#again: DO NOT leave spoilers for any of the future games on this I will block you

[ineylesian]

— FELL ON BLACK DAYS

AVENTURINE X FEM! READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 9.5k

WARNINGS — spoilers for penacony’s storyline, enemies (??) to lovers, slowburn fr (it gets good i promise) mentions of genocide, mentions of child exploitation (not explicit), weapons & violence, smut, fem anatomy reader, sub!aventurine, mentions of traumatic events, one bed troupe

SUMMARY — Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last. 

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — AHHH i love aventurine so much he made me write again <333 i will defend this man to the end of the earth i swear. also holy word vomit, this is officially my longest piece!!

“BREAKING NEWS: Reports incoming that the International Peace Corporation has been seen with an employee suspected of Avgin origin from the planet Sigonia-IV. All habitants from this world were thought to have been wiped out or lost to the galaxy, so the appearance of this mysterious individual has grasped the attention of–”

The broadcast slowly fades into the background, overtaken by the synth and snare of a song that lightly shakes the ground at your feet. 

Sometimes you’re better of dead–

“Oh, you think you’ll be an asset? You’ll have to learn to make tough decisions on the go here if you want to succeed, so tell me…”

There’s a gun in your hand, it’s pointing at your head–

“You want to help this clan? Help claim this world and rid it from the remaining filth that roams?”

There’s a piercing screech amidst the bar, the high pitched wail of the speaker blasting the music fighting against the volume. A few seconds pass before the song picks back up again, a few lyrics skimmed through.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world, The East End boys and the West End girls–

“...”

“Before your initiation, you must make a prayer to the winds and mountains. Do you swear to devote your thoughts and beliefs to them, and reclaim the glory of Sigonia-IV?”

We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past

Here today, built to last–

“I swear.”

The bass fades and you’re left standing amidst a crowd of chatting people, some high on buzz, others passed out beside the restroom. Your eyes slowly fix forward, coming to a halt as the masses shift in formation, curving in a circle around the biggest table in the casino. Lined with forest green felt and red chips, hands bang against the surface joined in a cry of frustration. 

“God damn it. This is rigged!” A player screams, hot-faced and teeth grit. “YOU!”

He stomps his way around the table, stopping at the dealer’s chair, failing to gain any attention despite the magnitude of his boots on the floor. In retaliation, the man takes a fistfull of the dealer’s hair, spinning him violently around and grabbing the collar around his neck.

Seldom have there been times where you didn’t see him in this sort of setting, a man with glasses that carried the same orange tint as the drink in his hand, die mounted between his fingers as he speaks with a wealthy patron. His words weave like velvet on a fine tailored suit as he invites you to play a game of chance, and before the game has even begun, you’ve lost.

His name is Aventurine, and, just as his reputation precedes him, the corners of his lips turn upward as you enter his field of view. He is never one to be down on luck.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the casino. The drinks have riled you up a bit too much, and I’m afraid you’re no longer sober enough to keep playing.”

The smell of outlandish alcohol hits your nose in a foul wave as he turns, rudely shrugging your hand off of his shoulder. 

“And who do you think you are? Protecting this weasel like that.” You take a step back as he advances, completely abandoning his grip on Aventurine as his gaze focuses on the emblem tailored to your shoulder. “You’re in on this scam too, aren’t you? Fuckin’ IPC, always looking to take money from people.” A sizable crowd has gathered at this point, and with that, guards are quick to stand at your side. You tilt your head to the side, extending a hand to gesture at the coat draped over his empty chair.

“You may gather your things and leave now, sir. Refusal to comply will result in you being forcibly removed.” 

A few more seconds of seething stares pass before he grumbles an insult toward you and rushes to gather his things, attempting to push the guards following him away. You sigh, turning to the dealer, who is now comfortable in his chair, feathered hat placed neatly on his lap as he shuffles the pool of cards pushed his way.

“Alright folks, now that’s over with, how about another–”

“Mr. Aventurine unfortunately won’t be able to join you all this round.” You quickly cut him off, laying the newly layered deck of cards onto the table. “May I have a word, please?”

The blonde takes a glance between you and the rest of the patrons at the table before nodding, allowing a charismatic smile to decorate his face as he slides the cards forward. 

“Of course. Miss Antonia, would you please find another dealer to step in for the remaining games?”

He gathers a kind nod from a nearby waitress, before turning to follow you outside of the casino. As the door opens, strong drafts of icy wind blow against your face, and you hear a shiver from behind.

“Sheesh, couldn’t we at least have talked inside? I didn’t come prepared to stand in the cold…”

You send a look his way, and Aventurine’s hands rise, lips pursed in faux apology. He pushes his glasses farther into his nose bridge as you lean against the casino’s exterior wall, shielding yourself from the chill. It’s clear he’s not taking you seriously, stifling out a yawn and rubbing his eyes before he even spares you a glance.

“Here to lecture me about the, wait…” His eyes suddenly narrow, honing in on your uniform. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, watching as he taps a few fingers against his forehead, thinking. The talisman of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department sits firmly laid into your uniform. A smoothly carved onyx, inferior to the cornerstone you know he possesses and certainly lacking in power. His eyes linger on the stone for a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head back up.

“Never seen that stone before..” He says after a few seconds, voice substantially lower. “What rank are you?”

His gaze is opaque, on guard. You resist the urge to bite your lip, figuring lying in this kind of situation wouldn’t be the best decision. Subconsciously, you bring a hand up to your stone, adjusting your coat flap before bringing it back down. 

“P39.”

His eyebrows form a sharp line, but his lips remain flat. The lens behind thick shades linger on the stone, burning into the lights that reflect off of the darkness. He’s never seen someone who isn’t a part of the Ten Cornerstones wear something like this, so who are you?

“If you’re here to try and convince me to do something, I’m not interested. I’ve had enough orders drilled into my head since I came to Jarilo-VI.”

His forefront is confident, but you can see the hand that lingers at his side, struggling to stay put. It reeks of mild uncertainty, and a lack of security. He doesn’t feel safe when he’s not in control.

“I’m here to tell you that your assignment’s changed.” Your response is straight and to the point. There’s no room to betray any underlying feelings of guilt you may have from years passed. “You’ll be with me and my team, we’re going to the Loufu in three days to sort some business out. I suggest you finish your deals here before we go.”

“Well then.” Aventurine clicks his tongue, mild annoyance riding the smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s acquaint ourselves then, shall we? You must know who I am, so please allow me the pleasure of returning the favor.”

A small passage of frosty air rises into the atmosphere as he breathes, hand extending in formality. You take it, slowly shaking, taking in the defensive rise of his shoulders. It seems he has zero tolerance for strangers.

“Nice to meet you, Aventurine. They call this stone the onyx.”

–

The Interastral Peace Corporation only takes workers to be strong-minded and just as toughly willed. In the Strategic Investment Department, greed is a virtue, and wanting nothing but it all is a prayer. Those who earn their spot as a cornerstone will stop at no means to chase their desires. 

Aventurine values risk, but he always loves to have control in his corner. Without control, the chips in his hands are of no use, and his bargains crumble beneath him. 

A gambler's true nightmare, sitting right between his eyes.

Your relation to him is a true mystery, despite all of the digging he’s been doing after arriving at the Loufu. Despite the numerous deals you’ve closed together, he still fails to know anything about you, other than the fact that you have quick wit and fascinating knowledge of the universe. He won’t dare approach you directly, his inhibitions are too high and he knows too little.

However, there’s something off about you and that stone of yours. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

“Does the IPC really need that many funds to perform a vitality check on the Sky-Faring Commission? From what I remember, this is nearly triple the amount of last year’s fee.”

“Well, Helm Master, from what our reports say, you had agreed to the accumulation of interest based on reports of safety in the Loufu. Based on recent events, there has been a substantial raise in alarm concerning the safety of the citizens here. We hope you can understand.”

Aventurine unfolds his hands, sliding a glossy black dossier over to the woman known as Yukong. After skimming over the first page of analysis, she sighs, and places her hand over the cover.

“Is it possible that we could touch bases on this later this week? I need time to look over these documents and discuss them with my team before making any decisions.”

Biting back a groan of exasperation, you nod, politely shaking her hand and bowing your head when she stands. What you thought was going to be a quick excursion of debt collecting had turned into two long weeks of debate, and you’re starting to lose sleep. After Yukong exits, you run a hand through your hair, allowing the flow from the outside to flood your ears..

You can admit, the place they chose is certainly impressive in its theatrics, blooming with tall fountains of pristine water and a live band of foxians playing classical music on a mahogany stage. 

After a few minutes of jotting down notes you find yourself leaning against the bar’s edge, elbows cool against smooth wood. Your thoughts swirl like the vibrato of the woman singing a cover of a local song in a language unknown to you, but it’s calming, and you begin to itch with the desire to order a drink.

The waiter polishing glasses near you seems to pick up on your wants, quietly gesturing with her hand that she’ll take your order.

“A Rose in Rain, please.”

She makes your drink at an astonishing speed, sliding the glass next to your hands with a smile. You stare at the royal blue liquid sitting at the rim, contemplating if the hangover will be worth it.

Aventurine eyes the finger that rests along the base of the glass, humming quietly to himself. He figures there’s no better way to get to know someone than through a few drinks.

“You gonna drink that or keep staring at it?”

You turn your head, watching as he slides onto the barstool next to you. He raises his three outer fingers, ordering a small glass of Wintry Garden before turning to face you.

It’s been a long month with the Cornerstone. His approach remains restricted, evident in his snippets of sarcasm that he still doesn’t trust you. Your situation is… unusual, so you tolerate it. However, there still lies a fear within that he’ll go deeper than what’s for his own good.

“Do you usually drink? Or are you afraid to spill your guts?”

His words drip with conviction, blindly accusing you with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. It’s been too long, and he still doesn’t know a damn thing about you other than the stone you wear. He needs to flip this in his favor, fast.

Aventurine’s fingers drum against the bar’s edge as he picks up his drink, taking a small sip. The slight tilt of his head inclines you to start yours too, drinking half of the tall glass in one swig. His eyebrows raise in surprise when the drink hits the table, taking all but a few seconds to completely down the entirety of its contents, a resounding clink following.

When you don’t rush to finish your own drink, Aventurine chuckles, crossing his arms as he turns to face you fully. He’s eyeing you, daring smile plastered on his face.

“What, scared?”

He’s challenging you. And it works, since your drink is empty and you’re ordering a second round in a matter of seconds. Fizz sluggishly bubbles down your throat, followed by rich spots of thick, clear syrup.

A few drinks is all it takes for you to begin feeling lightheaded, pressing a palm into your eye to try and alleviate the nausea. Aventurine is at least 6 drinks in, setting down his next with an exaggerated sigh. Raising his hand for another, he lightly dings his glass against yours, the scent of redsunset sauce high on his breath.

“Let’s talk, Onyx.” He remarks, placing his hands on the table as the bartender comes over. “What’s the real deal with you? How come I haven’t seen you anywhere in the IPC and you show up in my faction one random day?”

You cough, attempting to clear your throat before you answer. It’s tough to keep your resolve with the amount of alcohol in your system.

“Maybe you’re just not perceptive enough, I’ve always been around.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like your answer. Another drink down.

“How many years have you worked for the IPC?”

“Almost 4 now.”

“What’s the entrance project that got you into the Strategy Department?”

You hesitate, and he grins, satisfied. This interrogation is going as planned.

“Well then? I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad, unless you’re more dangerous than you seem.”

It’s your turn to down a drink, wiping a small trace off of your chin as you think.

“Izumo.” You answer, short, watching as his fingers clasp tighter around the glass in his hand. Surprise.

“You really expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a tinge of fire evident in his voice. “No one goes to Izumo any more, not after the slash.”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer amount of people that go to Magatsu no Morokami to uncover history. The IPC has their eyes set on valuable relics left behind from the war.”

He leans forward, dangerously close to your face. Past the thick orange lens of his aviators, you can see the irate spark in his eyes, alight with a plethora of shades you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not wise to lie to your superiors.”

You back away, sliding your card across the counter to the bartender. The moment Aventurine gets up to follow, you stop in your tracks, holding a small drive in his direction. You have some tricks up your sleeve, too.

“You’ll change your mind.”

He pauses, slightly bent over in a stupor of alcohol. 

“Best keep your cards close to your chest, Aventurine. Snooping in places you don’t belong bodes bad fortune.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, he takes the drive from your hand, leaning back onto the bar’s surface, eyebrows knit in thought. The world is suddenly too loud and amidst a flurry of harmonic bellows and blinding lights, you disappear. 

—

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGY INVESTMENT DEPARTMENT HQ | ONE MONTH LATER

“I guess I should apologize.”

Several weeks of absence. You look up from the papers on your desk, watching as Aventurine places your drive back on your desk. He straightens back up, waiting for you to respond.

“Understandable.” You answer, finalizing a document with a quick signature. “I would have had my apprehensions too.”

“Still do, but it’s better to work with someone you tolerate, right?”

You look up. He shrugs, eyeing the papers you have scattered around.

You had given him a flash drive with your report on Izumo, or, at least, a report on it. Sometimes things are left best buried. Still, Aventurine is certainly not stupid, and you know that. The final version of the report is vague and full of small incidents that contrast the planet’s true history There are inconsistencies, but he seems a little less hostile for the time being.

“Whatever you’re hiding from me, I intend to find out in due time. But I can’t do that if we’re at odds.” A hand is extended your way, held a little less straight and professional. “Let’s just try and hate each other a little less, huh?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you take his hand and shake it for the second time. Aventurine smiles at you, a little less pointedly, but still on guard.

“Friends it is, then.”

His grip tightens slightly at the proclamation, leaving your veins seared and eyes wavering. As if you just made a deal with the devil. Your gaze drags along the fancies of his coat, figuring this is just another gamble he’s won. Something closer to certain death; the passion for it intrigues you.

Sooner or later you’ll suffer the consequences of a lie, you tell yourself. There’s no good outcome when striking up an agreement with a gambler, especially one like Aventurine.

Especially when the gambler is holding a knife to your throat.

The blade is cool, barely holding back from your trachea. Leather gloves hold a fistfull of your hair, shoving you down onto the filing cabinet you were sifting through moments before. Your eyes dart around, only able to see the edge of his shoe pressing against your ankle and the papers you dropped scattered across the floor.

“Just as I thought we were getting along.” His spits, words slithering around your chest and settling around your neck. “It was only a matter of time before you slipped up.”

Confusion spreads across your features, and Aventurine scoffs. His shoe digs deeper into your achilles, and you stagger against the metal. 

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Your words come out choked, gasping for air against Aventurine’s hold.

“That man, the one you had a long conversation with at the meeting tonight? You two seemed to get along.” Aventurine’s breath runs short out of anger, grip scalding against your skin. “You know him, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, tracing the night’s events back several hours. You only recall shaking two men’s hands, one being the esteemed Doctor Ratio’s, and the other the reason why you were down in the IPCs archives. He was dressed nothing short of what a gentleman would wear, offering you many commending words as he spoke of the recent inflation concerning the astral economy. However, you didn’t miss the brilliant stone embedded in the shell of his tie, reflecting vibrant colors you’ve only seen once in your lifetime. And neither did he.

“Pretty stone isn’t it?.” Aventurine continues, pressing your hands against the wall you’re shoved against. “I’ve seen it a lot throughout my lifetime, but I’m sure you know that already. Silly me, forgetting how easy it is to conceal them.”

He reaches for your shoulder, and you push back, using the slightly stagger of his feet to grab the blade’s edge, violently smashing your head into his and spinning him around. His blade traded for your stone. 

“I’d like to know…” His fingers flip the stone around, taking in the colorless mass, like a void amidst the stars. With a quick swipe of his hand, a lighter is held to it, engulfing the black in a dance of pale fire. Aventurine shakes the rising smoke off of him after a few moments, and your eyes narrow.

“...Why you have this?”

Turquoise meteorite, a brilliant blue stone infused with veins of a green just as bright. A kind of beauty that could only be found on Sigonia, tailored in a way only an Avgin could. The crafter spoke of a tactic that could hide the stone’s true color, while keeping its spirit alive with you still. 

Blood drips from your hand, staining your clothes a deep crimson. Gritting your teeth together, you slice a sleeve of your dress shirt off, slowly wrapping it around the wound. 

Aventurine stands, still, fury riding his waterline. His glasses sit beside his feet, hues of purple and blue wavering in the dim light. His hand slowly clenches, in and out, smoothing the cooled piece over his palm.

“What now, Katican?” His voice is quiet, gently ricocheting off of concrete walls. “Came to settle one last score, fulfilling your dream of tracking down the last Avgin? Oh, I bet you’re itching to use that knife right now.”

You step to the side, shaking bloodstained papers off of your feet. The knife drops to the ground, scraping cruelty against the ground as you kick it to a corner far out of your reach. A sharp intake of breath follows, and he steps back.

“I’m no Katican.” Your tone is low, locking eyes with Aventurine, his gaze darts from the knife to you. “The stone was a gift from an Avgin I saved during the second extinction.”

The air is stale, prickling with fear as you pass. Aventurine stands tall, but you know all too well that his greatest fear has come alight in this very room. The thought of coming face to face with a Katican chases him in his nightmares each dusk, a terror looming over his head akin to a raging storm. For once, he’s speechless, completely dumbstruck, mind racing to comprehend all that you’ve bestowed upon him. So little said, yet so great a burden unveiled. 

You would be right in telling him that such information is better left buried. Yet Aventurine knows only how to shatter the destiny that calls for him, and monumental change has left in its wake.

He opens his mouth to speak, yet words fail him. The hand holding the stone sits slotted behind his back, holding on to it as he would a birthright. A piece of his past that would never bless him again, sitting in the shade of Sigonia’s darkest nights, mimicking a color that does not belong to it. He wants to scream, take his knife and shove it so hard into your chest that it comes out on the other side. 

“I am on your side, Aventurine. I always have been.”

After forcing himself to swallow, he straightens up, but you’re already gone.

Distantly, a heavy thud hits the floor.

–

TUMBLEWEED, SALSOTTO.

“I’m Daisy, here this morning with Tumbleweed’s daily weather report. As usual, there’s sun about. However, a rude awakening is coming at around 6pm, as a pretty hefty thunderstorm is coming our way. Make sure you carry your umbrellas! And remember, as our beloved Fleetworld Marc says, thunder only happens when it’s destined.”

Destiny. The word lingers in your head as a pang of hunger hits your insides. Placing your last suitcase beside your bed, you set off for your hotel room’s kitchen. Reaching over and opening a cabinet, you groan when it reveals itself to be empty. 

Shrugging your coat over your shoulders, you pocket your room card. However, when you open your door, you’re quick to step back, feeling your heart rate spike instantly in shock. 

“Uh…” You take a few short breaths, regaining your composure. “Can I help you?”

The man standing before you is no other than Aventurine, chin receding as he looks at you with evident confusion.

“Can I help you?” He retorts, flipping his hotel card up to the light. “This is my room.”

You pull the exact same card out of your pocket, and the two of you share looks of bewilderment. After reading over the numbers on your card for what felt like the 50th time, Aventurine sighs, long and drawn out. 

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined when the front desk told me they could fit a room in for me.”

“I’ll go ask–”

You’re cut off with a swift wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother, I already did. They’re fully booked for the next week.”

Before you know it, both Aventurine and his bags are heading into your… your room. Exhaling, you mutter a quiet “okay..” and follow him inside. However, he’s quick to stop you once you make it past the bathroom, exaggeratedly pointing toward the wall to your right.

“This has to be some kind of joke, right?” Aventurine laughs, pulling his glasses off as if attempting to see better. 

His gaze is fixed on the bed sitting across from you. The single bed, accompanied with a single nightstand and a TV. In that moment, you both share a second groan, and Aventurine palms his face.

“I’ll figure this out.”

In a matter of moments, he’s gone, suitcases set haphazardly on the ground beside you. After a few minutes of thought, you head to the bathroom, soaking your hands in cold water. A brief inhale follows the icy chill that drags over your face, and you silently curse destiny. 

A few hours pass before Aventurine returns, shirt slightly ruffled, annoyance clearly displayed upon his features. The click of boots melds into the soft step of socks as he enters the kitchen, and you silently pass a bowl of fried rice you had been able to scavenge from a local grocery store over. Running a hand through his hair, he nods your way, sliding into the stool across from you and stopping the bowl with his fingers.

“As you could have guessed, there are zero people in this whole building willing to switch rooms with us.”

“Ah, yeah. Tourists are usually snobby.”

A hum signifies his response. Silence encompasses the room as a blanket would, save the soft clangs of silverware on bowls. You fix your gaze on the granite countertops, following intricately woven lines of mixed stone and drawing patterns in each section you come across. Becoming so immersed in the cracks, you don’t even notice when Aventurine passes you twice, once with his bowl, and once without. Seconds turn into minutes as you stare at the sheet of stone, only taken away from thought when he returns to the table, dressed in a black set of silk pyjamas. 

“What’s your story?”

Your eyelashes flutter, taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Raising your head, you push the now cold rice to the side and glance at the man across from you, fingers interlocked in wait. 

You’re shocked at the simplicity of it. The lack of accusations are a breath of fresh air when it comes to his words, typically cold fronted and dripping with malice. You would expect him to be angry still, perhaps even worse, giving that you lied, but you can feel the genuine curiosity lingering within. He seems to want to understand.

“I joined the IPC when I was young, almost ten years ago.” You start, fighting the urge to snap away from his gaze. “In my second year, word was out that there was trouble on Sigonia. It was thought that the IPC had it under control, but everyone knew there was something else coming.”

You pause. Aventurine remains quiet, attentive.

“I took it upon myself to convince my superiors to send me to Sigonia, despite their warnings. But… the work we did there, it wasn’t enough. I could help no one under the bounds of the IPC, so I sought out the Katicans. No more bounds. I was on the inside, where I could do things my own way.”

“Such lovely people, weren’t they?” He questions, apathy leaking from deep within. “Didn’t have a single care in the world other than themselves. They wanted to see everything burn, the women, children.”

“I have never seen a deeper hatred than what lies within them.”

You stop, again, toying with your fingers. Aventurine’s silence beckons you to proceed.

“I could only help so many, and they all ended up dying anyway. There was no escaping them, they were ruthless.” Your voice trails off, shaking your head slightly at the recollection of dark days in the wasteland they call Sigonia. No horrors match the ones that took place there. “I couldn’t imagine what you went through, any of you. And still, you’re alive.”

A word softly chants in your head. Destiny.

“Ever since I was born, I knew what was made out for me was never good.” Aventurine says, a hint of irony in his voice. “I fell on black days without knowing what it was like to live on the other side, and it’s been like that since.”

Flashes of your past mix in with current thought. You remember them, the Avign children, clinging to scraps of life even when it was evident their lives would soon end. Their eyes, just as brilliant as his, drowned by crashing waves, yet afloat on the prayer of hope. You imagine Aventurine was just like them, and you understand. Anger breeds and it seethes.

“How do you control it?” Such a simple question, yet so many answers. 

“I put it all into risk. Every single last bit of it. I gambled, and I won.” His pointer finger gently hits the table, and he raises his hand to wave it through the air. “I survive, and I bet again.”

“A bold motto, I must say.”

A small smile graces his features, shrugging lightheartedly.

“Luck seems to be on my side.”

You look to the side at the sound of a crack, noticing that rain has started to fall. The sky is obscured by deep grays, and the rumble beckons you to the sliding door separating you from the balcony. The crash of drops on concrete is soothing to your ears, bestowing a peace upon your heart you’ve failed to find for a while now. The serenity thickens as Aventurine steps to your side, the hues in a ring of his eyes reflecting the storm outside.

“I didn’t rain much back then.” He muses, gaze following the slow drizzle of fallen streaks on the balcony’s edge. “A privilege I can keep alive, now that I see it so often.”

You look to the side, meeting Aventurine’s eyes halfway. The corners of his lips turn up as he looks past you, covering his mouth as he stifles a yawn.

“Almost forgot about the bed.” He laughs, running a hand over his lower face. “You can have it, I’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Absolutely not!” You counter, head tilting in defiance. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“That would be extremely impolite of me.”

“As it would be for me…”

“Will you please just sleep on the bed?”

“I brought extra pillows! I’ll be more comfortable than you on the floor.”

Aventurine stops, sending you a half lidded look. You walk over to your suitcase, swiftly pulling the two large pillows you packed out, holding them at your sides. He walks over to you, snatching a pillow out from one of your arms before walking toward the bed.

“Or, how about this?” He shoves your pillow on top of the hotel provided one. “We put the extra pillows on the bed, and we both take a half.”

You purse your lips, and shrug in reason. After patting your pillow into place, you climb onto the bed, turning on your side to ensure you’re only taking up half of the bed. 

As you land on your other shoulder, you nearly touch noses with Aventurine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising in a teasing manner.

“It’s not often someone gets the chance to be this close to me.”

You groan, tugging the coarse blanket to your chest as you flip to your front. Stifling a few chuckles, Aventurine turns so his back is facing you.

Within a few minutes, quiet snores begin to drift through your ears. You sigh, and roll your eyes. And yet, only peace visits you in your dreams.

–

There have been few nights of your stay in Salsotto without rain. You’ve grown accustomed to the melodic pad of morning to the erratic roar of the night. This night is different, however, as dew is high in the air but the clouds of the afternoon are white, tainted with swirls of pink that bode better weather. 

You fumble with the pearls on your neck, carefully positioning them so they rest on your collarbone. All IPC events require a clearance of wear that is above the standard grade of formal, nothing short of extravagant, explaining the fine tailored suit you wear over your dress. Ivory on cream, a palette that bodes well when making business deals. 

Heels click on pavement, Tumbleweed’s National Museum in sight. Golden lights cast the establishment in an elegant glow, and the stream of classical cello welcomes your ears as you approach. Welcoming smiles are given your way as you enter the building, and you start a long night of shaking hands and business chatter with the esteemed mechanical aristocrat Screwllum. 

Leisure chats of the Genius Society’s next project flow in and out of wine chutes, with gentle opera joining new deals of funding. Another hand shake bodes your farewell to a philanthropist from the Herta Space Station, and you take a seat at one of the tables nearby, attempting to gather your thoughts. Sipping on a glass of sparkling rose, you start jotting down tonight’s business proposals onto your phone.

“Having fun?”

You look up, offering a smile toward your temporary hotelmate as you pull the chair next to you back.

“Was wondering when I’d run into you, Aventurine.” You say, clinking glasses with the blonde. “How many deals have you clinched tonight?”

“More than you, I bet.” You scrunch your nose, folding your arms after sliding your phone his way. Aventurine takes a look through your notes, smile expanding on his face as he progresses.

“...And it seems I would be right.” He exclaims, holding up two full hands. “Don’t feel bad. It’s the natural charm.”

“Mhm. Super natural, and not annoying at all.” You quip, earning a light jab in the shoulder.

Your past two weeks with Aventurine had proved to be an easier feat than you had thought. Beside the snoring (that you had learned to tune out), he had served as a good source of company, squandering your worries of lingering grudges as you spent more time around one another. You were grateful he had the will in his heart to see the reason behind what you had done, although you were a little surprised to see that he had forgiven you with such ease. 

Now, to you, he seemed to be an easy soul forced to carry burdens that were undeserving of him. 

“Hey.”

You’re roused from your thoughts by the gentle tap of Aventurine’s foot against your heel. He cocks his head, and you’re suddenly aware of the soft serenade filling the room, sung by an artist famous for this piece.

“Let’s get our minds off of business for a while. Care to dance?”

He straightens his jacket before standing up, beckoning you to do the same. You accept the hand outstretched, threatening to roll your eyes as Aventurine lays his other on your back, guiding you to the floor.

“Trying to show off?” 

Aventurine slowly spins you into a shroud of spotlight, laughing when your eyes go wide from the precision of his arms slowing you back down. 

“Of course.”

A look is shared between the two of you, and the dance begins. You recognize the piece, Seid Umschlungen, Millionen! (Be Embraced, You Millions!), and fall into a sort of waltz, slow, quick, slow. Your feet move in a symphony of chirping violin and cello vibrato, swirling carefully around other dancers as you step from box to box. 

The music quiets in a moment of repose, and you slow, winding your hands around his neck as you sway, in wait. 

“What’s with the long face?”

The question catches you off guard, as you weren’t aware that your thoughts had reflected off of your face. Lips pursing, you wonder whether taking the chance and ruining the moment is worth it, but the question nags deep within, festering like a cancer that will not cease until it is freed. 

“Do you forgive me?”

Strings echo and rise; Aventurine fits a hand behind your back before spinning you into dance. His eyebrows are furrowed lightly, as if your question had caught him off guard in some sort of way, but you both knew it was coming. Trust is an uncertain entity, not easily won or wagered, never certain in whether it’s attained or lost. Forgiveness is a trial for trust, and within inquiry lie a question of deeper truth that never made it to the surface

Do you hate me, Aventurine?

There have been many times in the passing days where you’ve been questioned about your time in Sigonia-IV. A test to determine whether your actions deserved merit. Recounting stories of countless lives you worked tirelessly to save at the risk of your own. Gallons of blood stained on your hands from the guilty, those whose karma ran the empty river beds of the desert red. 

So much, and yet nothing at all. It’s as if life is out to play some game of twisted fate, as you see all of the lives you could not save in the man right before you. The brand slightly hidden by his collar and wispy blonde, jewelry glittering at his wrists, irises that shine in the darkest of nights. Bewitching, yet so alive. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He says, after some time. “You did a brave thing, I would be a fool to condemn you for it.”

Elation. It’s the feather touch of his hands, graceful in the way they dip you, nearly stopping time as you lay suspended. Your eyes lock, and you nearly drown in the glow of lavender and maya that stare back. Slowly, you feel one of his hands leave your back, dipping in his suit pocket and coming to rest in your vision. 

“Their memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.”

You’re lifted to stand, and, amidst a rather slow spin, Aventurine pins the turquoise meteorite you’d thought was long gone onto the span of dress fabric above your chest. The resounding smile shared is trust.

You twirl and sink until the song comes to an end, stopping in a hold of hands and interlocked legs as orchestra is overtaken by voice. In the midst of fading spotlight, your breath evens out, and you find yourself following the gambler’s hand to escape the noise, elbows brushing on a balcony railing as you stare out into the fading daylight.

The sky is tinged with the baby blue of afternoon, arising into a deep interweave of violet and blush. A small, red casino chip flips between Aventurine’s fingers, rolling to sit between his pointer and thumb in short pauses.

“Got any tricks up your sleeve, gambler?”

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, invigorated by the rise of your lips, challenging, daring. The game you propose has risk, but what is life without taking leaps blind? Aventurine is sure he can see you now, after all.

With a flip of the chip and a wave of his hand, the red disappears, and a cool sensation lands firmly on your lips. His face is inches away from yours, fingers gently pressing against the chip that severs the distance between you.

“There are tricks to any risk, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

You raise your hand, sliding the chip from your mouth and palming it. When he doesn’t move, you tug on his collar, chin tilting upward to press your lips to his. The sensation is warm, gentle, as if you tread on ice that threatens to shatter. Honey sears your tongue, and you revel in the touch of his lips, soft as the velvet of his tie.

The moment is all too short, yet your mouth feels numb as you break away. In a moment of silence, you take the hand that sits lightly clamped around your wrist, sliding the chip in his palm and closing his fingers.

“I think I’ll be gambling a lot with you, Aventurine.”

His face moves closer, and you look down for a moment, noticing the hand that sits behind his back.

“I look forward to it.”

–

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT HQ | TWO MONTHS LATER

Knock, knock.

“Coming.”

The door opens in fluid motion, revealing a room cast in gloom, tan shade, blinds drawn. 

“Hey, Aven.” You sigh, placing a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Long day?”

“Long day.” He mirrors, offering to take the stack of papers off of your hands. You accept, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Are you done for today?”

“Mhm.” 

Aventurine sits in his desk chair, shrugging the navy coat he sports onto the back. You stretch your arms behind your back, watching as deft hands undo the cross hatched tie representing the cornerstones from his collar. As he sets the piece down, his office phone starts to buzz, and he groans.

“Hello, this is Aventurine… Uh huh, what time?” He draws circles into ebony, holding the phone to his shoulder as he reaches for a notepad. However, as he clicks the pen in his hand, he nearly drops the phone, clearly startled. “Can you repeat that? Si- okay. I’m coming.”

In a flurry of movement, he stands, tie and coat snatched. 

“We have to go, right now.”

His tone is impatient, brimming with anxiety and unwilling to contest. You blink a few times before following him out of his office, grabbing his coat to hold onto as he fits his tie back to his shirt. The walk is silent, save a quiet “thank you” when you hand the coat over and the click of shoes on tile. Your nerves rise as you move, watching the way he frets with his gloves, tugging on the ends repeatedly. 

In a matter of minutes, you arrive at the boardroom of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, stopping at the edge of the table as Jade turns around, followed by a concerned looking Topaz.

“Ah, Aventurine. What a surprise, I was sure not to include your name in the list of attendees tonight.“She sends a look to the white haired cornerstone, before directing her gaze to you. “Unfortunately, ranks below P40 are prohibited from attending this meeting. Guards, please see her out.”

You push against the guard that seizes your wrist, but are unable to resist as more come to his aid. After having the door shoved in your face, you’re dragged to the hallway outside of the meeting hall, forced to sit in wait. 

30 minutes. Another 30. An hour before the doors open, with Aventurine first, Topaz following close behind. He rushes past you, eyes on the ground, gone within seconds. Concern etches your features as Topaz runs up to you, lips pursed in distress,

“Aventurine-” She pauses, hand on her chest as she catches her breath. “Please go after him. You’re the only one that he’ll see now, after what just happened.”

“What happened?”

At your inquiry, she shakes her head, nodding her head toward the direction Aventurine took off in.

“It’s best you hear it from him. But, please, go see him tonight, he needs someone who’s close to his heart.”

Worry is quick to seep into your features, but you nod. A quick visit to his office and you’re off, taking the next jet off of Pier Point, to Klimt Republic. Weaving through streets and bullet trails full of life, you arrive in the heart of Klimt just two hours later, standing on the penthouse floor of an apartment complex worth more than the entire block you’re on.

Knock, knock.

Silence. You hesitate, and knock again. 

The shuffling of feet hit the floor, and you wait in anticipation, hands firmly at your sides as the noise stops. After a few moments, the door slowly opens, and you sigh in relief.

Aventurine stands, slightly hunched against the doorframe, hair disheveled, eyes red and irritated.

“Aven, what happ-”

A pair of hands seize your wrist, tugging you inside and slamming the door behind you. 

“Not now.” Your eyes widen at the plea in his voice, whole with a basal need that makes your chest tighten. “Please, just, make me forget about it right now.”

He looms over you, yet the shadow he casts is the antonym of threatening. Fear reeks off of him like vodka, as tears brim on his waterline. The feeling spreads to your skin like wildfire, and you feel him shake as you take his face in your hands, breathing shallow and scared.

The first taste of his lips is sweet, but the salt of his tears is quick to sink in. Clumsy and trembling, your bodies rock and hit walls as you make your way to his bedroom. You throw his coat to the side as he does yours, pushing him down onto his bed as you break for air. 

Aventurine’s hair flows out around him as he falls onto the mattress, shrouding him as a halo would. You chase after him, littering his neck with soft bites that elicit soft groans from the skin beneath. You unbutton half of his shirt before diving for his collarbone, reveling in the whines that respond as you nip and bruise. 

His hands reach for your pants, and you stop him before he can reach for your panties. 

“Ah-ah, hands behind your head.” Your voice pools out smooth, running a hand down his shirt. “Just relax and let me take care of you.” 

Gently pinning his hands above him, you let go, and he complies. You reward him with a kiss, messy and careless, pulling a string of saliva between your lips when you leave them. Your free hand pushes hair out of his eyes while the other works on the zipper of his slacks, watching as his fingers lock together as you apply pressure.

A shudder leaves Aventurine’s lips as you pull his boxers down, hand gently running along the length of his dick. Teeth tug at lips as you spit on your hand, working at his cock while running your free fingers along your folds. His neck lifts up as your hands move faster, and you grin, choking the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth at the display before you.

A sight like heaven, an angel laid out for worship. Aventurine’s skin is coated in a soft sheen of sweat that shines in the dim light, hand laid over one eye whilst the other remains barely open. Under the mix of hues that resemble wild fields of flowers, blush coats his cheekbones, a light to the darkness that blooms on his neck. The vulnerability of it makes your heart soar, and you feel a fire ignite in the depths of your being that fails to stoke.

The hand that toys with your clit lifts, prodding at Aventurine’s mouth as you lower yourself on his cock. Muffled whines vibrate around your fingers, and you moan at the fullness that envelops you. You swirl your fingers in his mouth, biting on your cheek as his tongue wraps around them, sucking on the sweet taste of you. 

His hands abruptly reach up, fingers winding and tangling in hair as they pull you down, replacing fingers with lips. The sensation is hot, as if an unquenchable balm has set your skin alight. 

“Feel good?”

“What kind of- ughh- question is that?” 

You clench around him as if it's instinct, and Aventurine calls your name as he would a prayer. His moans are akin to song, divine in melody, alluring in a way that shuts your mind off from anything else but him. One of his hands leaves your hair, fingers clumsily clamping around your own, holding you like fine china. 

The stretch of his dick does little to quench the hunger within, you crave more, a devout worshiper crying a hymn of need. Your motion becomes erratic, a twist of limbs and friction that siphons tears that streak down your cheeks, falling to mix in with the sweat on your lover’s face.

“Gonna-” Aventurine chokes on his own words, eyes shut harshly as he blinks back ecstasy. “Cum.”

Your words are lost to you, only managing to groan in response as Aventurine pulls you back to him. His lips seal over yours in a searing kiss, arms winding around your back to hold you still as your orgasm shakes you. White light flashes through closed eyes as you spasm around his dick, mixing with the cum that leaks inside of you. 

The room is quiet, save the howling wind of night and the dance of unstable breath. Blankets shuffle as you drop to Aventurine’s side, allowing him to drape your discarded shirt over your bare chest. Time seems to cease as you meet his gaze, touch serene as the plains of distant worlds as he encourages you to come closer. You accept, eyes closing for a moment, feeling the warm fan of his breath over your nose.

“The IPC is funding a project to excavate Sigonia.” The silence breaks, peace shatters and your eyes snap open. “Turquoise meteorites are rare, so they’ll scrape the whole planet dry until every last piece is gone.”

Your face falls, corners of your lips pulling downward. Aventurine’s eyes are half lidded, seemingly already accepting the fate of the planet he calls home. He refuses to look your way, eyes focused somewhere past you, the sorrow spreads and leaks into your soul as it opens further. A place so full of hatred and loss, yet a place that he will never be able to let go of. It burrows within the deepest neurons, refusing to snap and forget.

“You have to say something, Aven.” You pull at his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Whatever you have to do, I’ll help you.”

“The IPC doesn’t have time to listen to Avgin.” He sighs, hope stale on his breath. “Not even if it's the last one alive.”

You still, fingers falling to rest against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes close, brows furrowing lightly against pale skin.

“Sigonia will fall, and only Kakavasha will remain.”

Defeat. It seems that what events occurred in that meeting room left no room for conversation. Guilt flows through your veins like it’s replaced the red, and your chest aches, latching onto the horror that no doubt holds sovereignty in his head.

Kakavasha. Blessed by the heavens yet cursed by the living world. Such a beautiful name that deserves no hell it endures. 

Amidst the quietude, Aventurine’s hand slithers under the blankets, latching onto your wrist. He traces skin, knuckles brushing against your own, coming to rest intertwined.

“Can we try something?”

You nod, and your hand is slowly lifted to the air, palm against palm between your chests. You’ve seen this motion back on Sigonia, yet it’s always remained distant to you, and the words echo in obscurity. 

“I’ll go through it once, and we can do it together.”

You nod, once more. Aventurine closes his eyes for a moment, reciting a prayer lost to you in time.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

A brief pause passes. You sigh in unison, and lock eyes. A voice whispers within the depths of your mind, and you smile.

The memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

As the last words drift off of your lips, you bend your fingers, slotting them between his. Aventurine shares your sentiment; hope flashed in the gentle smile that graces his lips. Your eyes wander, and notice that a single tear trails down his face, disappearing into his skin as it rolls.

Outside, you hear the crack of thunder. You pull Aventurine in, and in your clutch, the downpour begins.

–

Some months later…

The chatter of voices on the phone rouses you from sleep, rubbing a hand over your eyes in annoyance as you come to. Light spills through drawn curtains and open glass doors, filtering the room in hues of honey and hazel. 

“Mhm. Alright, I understand. Let’s schedule the interview for today.”

Songs of canaries and mourning doves flow through the air, and you sit up, raising a hand to block out the sun’s gaze. Aventurine sets his phone down on the bedside table, stifling a yawn with his hand. You roll onto your side, hand propped up onto your chin as you soak in the sight of your lover.

His hair is slightly ruffled from sleep, bangs astray and cast into his eyes. Only the top button of his sleep shirt is buttoned, leaving lean, sun kissed skin on display. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you in for a kiss. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You hum, knowing full well tonight has been one of the worst nights you’ve slept yet. Aventurine sees right through you, but chooses to say nothing, opting to pull you forward so half of your body drapes over him.

Today Aventurine leaves for Penacony. And, seeing as he was called in for a meeting, he’s probably leaving even sooner now. 

He seems to read your thoughts, offering a comforting peck to the corner of your lips in apology. Your hands card through his hair, head resting against his collarbone. 

You have your apprehensions about Penacony, having heard whispers on the streets of mysterious disappearances of people in the world’s famous dreamscape. The IPC has had a limited number of run-ins with the family, leading you to assume a recent grounds of suspicion has arised, and Aventurine was chosen as the solution. In his eyes, it’s just another gamble of life or death.

You’re roused from your thoughts by a tap on your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” His words do little to soothe you, but you listen regardless. “The risks I take are always foolproof.”

Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last. 

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

His phone rings, and the two of you groan before he gets up and tells the person on the other line that he’s on his way. You watch from his side of the bed as he throws his clothes on, grabbing two packed suitcases from the side of the bed before bending over to give you a kiss. The touch of his lips is bittersweet, nearly taunting as it is over before it even begins. You peck him again, running a hand over his hairline to straighten his bangs.

“Be safe out there, Aven.”

He smiles, so radiant it rivals the sun and all that it shines on. You think yourself blessed to see it survive.

“I will. Luck is always on my side.”

And he leaves. You turn to the window, awaiting the rain.

[itssliyahhxoxo]

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

(𝐁𝐖𝐖𝐖)

(𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐑)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Paige dose an interview were she gets asked about her celebrity crush’s and your name comes up

You were out with some friends when you got the message from you agent she had sent you the video of Paige. You read the comments and saw all the fans going crazy for no reason at all.

You’ve heard of Paige but never really paid any attention to her. “Yo look at this” you’re friend yelled over the loud music she showed you a picture of you and one of Paige’s pictures together on some fan page “damn they fast” you mumbled.

You looked back to your friend “I’ll deal with it later” you walked away to get another drink.

It was now the next morning you were back stage getting your hair and makeup done before your interview with jimmy Fallon for your new movie that’s coming out next week.

“Soo what going on with you and Paige bueckers” you’re makeup artist smirked looking at you in the mirror “what” you looked up.

“Everyone’s talking about you too like you the next big thing” she giggled “no their not,it just happened yesterday” you shook your head “go on twitter and see for yourself” she told you before she left finished with your makeup.

You paused And thought for a minute before giving up and going on twitter. There were pictures of you and her everywhere you couldn’t help but laugh going through the comments.

User18: they would be so good together

User3649: y’all are crazy they don’t even know each other like that.

|

User65: so you never know 🤭

Show more

You laughed to yourself before getting up and leaving your room to head on stage. You waited to be called out standing to the side as jimmy started talking about you and your appearance tonight.

After his speech you were brought out you waved to the crowd smiling. Before taking your seat you and jimmy hugged and and shook hands.

“So how do you feel about your movie coming out next week” he asked “nervous” you softly laughed “why” he laughed “well it being my first movie I’m kinda shitting my pants” you laughed everyone laughed with you “any spoilers, you can give us” he smirked.

“spoilers” you thought out loud “not really but there is a Sean where things get a little..” “spicy” he finished for you “yeah” you laughed blushing.

“I hate to get off topic buttt,you and Paige bueckers” he dragged out. The whole crowd went crazy making you roll your eyes with a soft smile.

“Anything you have to say about that” “unfortunately no I’ve never really had any conversation with her nor met her in person I would love to one day though” you answered.

The interview went on and on some questions about the movie and your music and some about you and Paige again.

A few weeks went by your movie was off the charts everyone was talking about it, you would have thought the Paige thing would have went down but no it got worse.

You were laying down on your phone when you’re friend cam in “guess whatttt” she sang “what” you looked up.

“I got us tickets to a basketball game” she smirked “cool what team” you got up and walked past her not paying attention “come and find out” she smirked .

You walked into the stadium looking around confused recognizing all the colors, you froze when you heard the crowd screaming the teams name..UConn.

“Why the hell would you bring me here” you softly shouted towards your friend “what don’t you wanna meet you future wife” she smirked pulling you to your seats which were in the front.

You grew nervous as you noticed some people in the crowd noticed you,they started talking pictures and videos you softly smiled and waved at them.

“I’m going to kill you” you mumble as the game started.

It was almost half time when Paige’s eyes caught yours you softly smiled at her,she looked away softly blushing “ouuu” your friend laughed “shut up” you laughed.

The game went on and on it wa the last round UConn winning with 113 points and the other team losing with 87. The ball was in Paige’s hands,with only 10 seconds left she threw the ball making it into the net

You smiled clapping happy they won.your were on your way out when some fans came over stopping you for some pictures,you sighed as they walked away.

“Hey” you turned around only to be met with the bluest eyes you’d ever seen “hi..Paige right” you nervously smiled “y-yeah” she answered “you were great out there” you pointed out “thanks,you to-I mean” she mumbled.

You smiled watching her blush “I’ll see you around bueckers” you slowly walked away as she watched mouth slightly open speechless.

(𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥🌚)



[ur-mousey]

Benzo-Addict ~

- Yandere! Jeffery x F! Reader -

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part One, Part Two

summary Drugs have always been your friend. A source of courage and tonight's no different. Now it's time to fuck a nerd. Hope your BF understands. 1.7k

warning mature, smut, non-con, hostage situation, dry humping.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

** Choices **

There are NO MORE choices to choose from.

You are shit outta luck, now wear those kitten ears and purr real good.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You blurringly watched ahead. A TV buzzed with images of red, blue, and clover green. You didn't feel luck at all. Jeffery kept you stable on his inner thigh, carding through knots twisted amongst your hair. You listened past his singing to the crickets beyond the attic crawl space, where cars whirled by, and left without hearing your pleas. Cody laid bleeding out on the creaky wooden slates. One thought persisted, he would die here. You talked him through it as best as you could, but in a twist of fate, you wished him dead. He'd be better off that way.

The rusted odor was acidic to your nostrils and filled the space like a migraine after a bender. All you could do was to constrict your throat. You were afraid that you'd double over at the sight. It's game over. As if you could save anyone? Much less yourself. Time to roll the credits. And spoiler, you'll remain fucked into death on top of a Hatsune Miku body pillow.

What the fuck were you supposed to do? What exactly could you have done differently? Go back in time and do what? Not be nice?

You smoothed snot into the wrist of your cardigan. The answer was a simple one. It stared you plain in the face, and it taunted you with the ferocity of the North Seas. You were the issue. Everything you did, all who you've interacted with, culminated into a thick poison settling in your skin. You wondered if you were destined for this - a life dictated by god where autonomy may be gifted or provoked.

And if you were to see Jeffery as that god, he had chosen to take you in as his rascal stray kitten. There will be no more choices afforded to you besides those he'll offer. Either to obey or not to obey. To crawl or to not be afforded the chance to ever walk again.

You were on the cusp of that new version of normalcy, having started with whom you placed the blame on. Jefferey directed it at Cody, as did Cody directed it at Jeffery. They were both wrong.

This was your fault. Jeffery showed you how easy it was to make you disappear. He cleaned fast that first night, ten days ago. You wouldn't have realized a stranger in the dark. He packed clothing for Cody and you, alongside sentimental items you'd fail to leave behind. He took a handful of Percs for the road and set up a snorting station of crushed Valium in the middle of your coffee table.

Jeffery had ushered you over by your biceps. He urged you to snort what you could of the powder. "Only a little, hun. He'll take the rest."

You wailed into your hands. Any and all protests were stumped in the pits of your belly. Drowsiness threatened to take you. But, your heart seemed to pound greatly outside of your body.

Jeffery whispered, "Please." He brought your head to his, forehead to forehead. "I promise, you'll sleep this all off. I love you. All I ask of you is to do this one thing to ensure our future."

"H-how?" Your voice sounded feral.

"You need to disappear. I'm setting the scene..." Jeffery brought your hands together. "If you aren't all mine, I can't stand it."

You gnawed on your lips, "How would this make me disappear?"

"I thought of many scenarios," Jeffery began, using his other hand to smooth flyaway strands from your face. His thumb rested upon your cupid's bow. "Most of them endited you for murder. But, I don't want people to think bad of you... So the plan is to-umm..." It seemed hard for him to set his words in order. He started once in stutters then he collapsed back against your boyfriend's bound leg. Jeffery basked in the silence.

Cody winced, flailing his limbs as best he could against the restraint. His muffled voice berated against your skull's cavity. Jeffery cleared his throat to begin anew. "Frankly... this world wouldn't miss druggie one," He slammed his fist hard into Cody's gut who began to wheeze while constricting in on himself as best he could. "Shut the fuck up! I told you if you attract the neighbors, I gut you. Now..."

Jeffery brought your head back to his. "You are druggie two. One and Two go missing. Then the cops assume these... 'lovers' fled together."

"And snorting Val?"

"You two were high off all the shit you took tonight. Friday nights are your weakness. The Valium is to cement the final hoora! of the night! Then I'll drive your car to the edge of town where there's no security, I'll withdraw money in his clothes, then dump him somewhere. And I get to have you! We can start our new lives with each other."

You blinked rapidly then slowed to the rhythm of your breaths. Were you ever breathing? "D-uuh Dump him... where exactly?"

"Anywhere. I don't know. I never disposed of a body. I'm doing this for you. You're my first. Will be... at least. After you, I won't be a vir- ah ah vir... virgin."

"Jeffery," You shuttered. "That's stupid."

"Which part? The virg-"

"No, not that. The dump his body somewhere -that part." You rubbed your eyes. You can't believe what you're about to do. "It would ruin all of this-" You waved your hand around. "If anyone finds the body."

Jeffery hummed, "Then what would you do?"

"Take him with us. That way you could think of a better solution. We could come up with something better!" You blamed the Percs. But it was all you leading at this moment. "I-uh don't know. We could chop him up or... or um."

What the fuck are you supposed to do? What exactly could you do to keep Cody alive? Fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck?

You gathered Jeffery's collar at the scruff of his neck. You huffed into the space between you before breaching the surface tension. His lips were chapped against yours, thin and twitched at first contact. Cody stomped furiously, swinging forward and back until he tipped over on his wrist. You watched his head crack down on the pavement.

"If no one cares about two druggies. Then, no one would care if I had fucked someone before high tailing it. Maybe you could convince the police that I had an affair. Cody found out, and then he murdered me outside of town in the dark spooky woods." You inhaled deep as you climbed Jeffery's knee. "You're right... he's a bastard."

You settled your fingertips on his neck, cupping his Adam's apple. "I want him to suffer. And he should see me enjoy our new life. Starting with me pleasing you."

Jeffery's eyes dart to your chest as you lean over him to glare at the nothingness behind. You were stalling. You felt too weak to run or to put up a fight. Morning would come eons from now, it seemed.

You had to keep him here until then.

~ ~ ~

Jeffery had sat enamored at your little performance. He kept his eye trained on your spasming body as you rocked faster into his leg. He'd known your druggie boy-toy trained you to drip at the gulp of a Perc, but he didn't expect to reap the benefits so soon. His brain fogged as the butterfly kisses you swept over his collarbone came up to his ear.

His mouth salivated at the faintest breath. He trembled as you bit his ear with tender care. Jeffery convinced himself of your love. This had to mean you loved him back. You had chosen him in the end over the waste of human parts. Your ex didn't use his eyes to watch anime nor did he jack off to big-breasted waifus. His dick had never spurt ropes of sperm into the air at watching a 2D woman leaking men's cum.

Not like Jeffery did. And all those nights felt like preparation for the day you saw him in his truest light. One which can now be actualized!

He would no longer be a virgin. Thanks to you.

Jeffery compared himself to Cody who had never had to imagine the subtle dips of a woman's hips as he did. He saw how the Baka would greedily smack your flesh. He knew that Baka had felt your pulsating entrance around his unsavory shaft. Jeffery wished to rid you of the phantom touch of your ex by burying his face deep into your pussy.

He felt rushed to gather its aroma on his palette. If only you would let him. Jeffery felt too afraid to string you to his whim when you chased pleasure so eagerly from his body.

He wondered if you would even want him to. He could try taking the reigns. Yet your lips slotted over Jeffery's like water over ice. He had to stifle a pitiful whine. His brain short-circuited at each pass of your tongue over his teeth. Jeffery's hand searched frantically the globes on your chest. He came to twiddle with your nipples.

You circled your hips to the beat of his thumb pressing down on your peaks. It was too good to be true. This must've been in a dream that he carded away in the depths of his depravity.

Your pussy mound molded over his thigh, wetting his jeans. What a sweet dream. Jeffery planned to relive the moment in all future sex encounters. He'll be in his late seventies, jacking off to the memory.

It has been hours since that moment came to pass. Jeffery caved to your sly demands. Cody lived another day. He knew you.

However, you'll soon realize that this was a part of the plan. Jeffery needed you to kill the piece of shit. How else would you move on if you painted him out to be the monster? Jeffery couldn't have you glorify the fucker in death. You would twist the truth in your sweet little head. All Cody's abuse, a symbol of his love that he's dead.

Hopefully, you finish the Baka off sooner rather than later. Jeffery had designed the attic with only you and him in mind.

Jeffery wiped your swollen cheeks. You were a princess adorned above your Sailor Moon duvet. He felt his cock swell with need at your peaceful yet grief-stricken face.

Three's a crowd.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo! Decided not to do the cosplay idea. Maybe in another fic not related to this concept. Wrote the ending in the dead of night bc I would've put it off.

Part One, Part Two

~ ~ ~

Tag list (y’all are depraved for wanting more)

@constellyations, @bladestits, @m1sscreep, @ilyquanxi, @opalineishere, @sakurashana

Will edit it later. Come back in 2 days, maybe I'll add an actual penetration scene. Or part 4, just smut, little plot. I get too into the plot thoooooo

[the-bitter-ocean]

Hi, I hope this ask finds you well. I've recently come across the ISAT AgeSwap AU you're at the least a collaborator on, and I've been really interested in it - in a good way, I wish to specify.

I have a small question I'd like to... well, ask pertaining it, or more specifically, the AU's Bonnie: How would Canon Siffrin react to them & vice versa? The thought wouldn't leave my mind while thinking of the AU, so I wanted to see if one of the people involved with it could weigh in.

I thank you for your time, whether you simply read this or answer my inquiry as well, and I give my best wishes towards any of your future endeavors be they near or far.

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the question I’m glad you’re enjoying the ageswap au! As for your question on how canon ISAT Siffrin would react to Ageswap! Au Bonnie (or vice versa) I imagine the two would feel very confused? It’s very jarring to see someone who in your reality/ timeline is a kid be an adult anywhere else. I think they’d get along well though! I think both would be happy that the other has a home/family amongst the party and turned out well overall despite the general traumatic childhood/ timeloop trauma etc.

(2HATS / A6SE spoilers talk under the cut)

That being said I think there’d be a level of guilt both of them would feel especially on the side of like canon ISAT! Loop + ISAT ! Siffrin reacting to ageswap Bonnie being in the loops to begin with.

The reason why is simply because the only ones who knew how to properly and correctly make the wish at the favor tree canonically is The King, Siffrin and Loop respectively. That means in other aus where someone else is looping and not Siffrin…that means someone had to have taught whoever was looping the correct way of wishing and the only one in the group who possibly could would be Siffrin.

I don’t think any looper would personally blame Siffrin or loop at all mind you- but I know how Siffrin and Loop have a very bad habit of placing guilt on themselves for things they couldn’t possibly control or change etc. The idea that even when you’re not the one wishing, you still somehow “doomed” your family by showing them how to wish correctly in the first place would nag at them. What a cosmic joke!!!!!

Not to mention because of the wording of the wish is a lot different than canon ISAT Siffrin and Loops wish. In the canon game of ISAT both Siffrin and Loop wished to stay with their family but in the ageswap au Bonnie specifically wished for the group to be safe (since they knew that the king was dangerous and anything could go wrong).

In simplest terms- it means the timeloop win condition in ageswap still relied on loop and Siffrin ( or any other kid in the group for that matter) to feel safe/be safe. Which is a problem because Loop and Siffrin respectively *would not* feel safe with the group splitting and going separate ways because then they would be all alone and fending for themselves again. Since the wish isn’t fulfilled until everyone feels safe, Bonnie would’ve had to been in the loops even after the group defeats the king and saves Vaugarde.

In the case of the eye incident I think both Siffrin and loop and ageswap Bonnie ( or guide if we go by the one au where ageswap Bonnie was the guide and Siffrin was the one looping) I don’t think anyone would be upset at their younger counterparts, nor at the person doing the protecting ( because they know for a fact that if the situation was reversed they can and will get hurt if it meant protecting someone- especially if that person was a little kid.)

Hope this answers your question anonymous! Thank you for stopping by.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

hi! I'm not sure if your taking requests or not, if your not please ignore this, but could you please write a self aware dazai, or any characters you'd like, learning that the reader has similar trauma as dazai, just some small aspects are different? thank you for your time!!

Hello! Hope, you like this. You are welcome.

When they learned, that you have similar trauma

Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu x GN!Reader

(Slight Self-aware! Oda Sakunosuke x GN!Reader)

Warning: Yandere, OOC, BSD characters stalks Reader, slight spoilers for "Dazai Osamu and dark era", mentions of death, few years ago Reader wasn't in the best place in their lives, English is my second language.

🪢🦀 It happened after you installed BSD Mayoi app and BSD gang gain access to the rest of your phone.

🪢🦀 Now they can hear your talking not only when you are using their app, reading manga/Light Novel or watching anime. Now they can hear you in your everyday life.

🪢🦀 Of course, they are looking after you for your own good. When they finally get to your world, they need to know who they should punish for wronging you.

🪢🦀 This cashier, who was rude to you and tried to scam you? Fitzgerald will destroy him financially.

🪢🦀 The terrible entitled parents in the park, who try to take away your phone and give to their children? Fukuzawa and Yosano will make them apologies.

🪢🦀 Entitled brats that ruined your notebooks? Elise and Q will show them, that you shouldn't be messed up with.

🪢🦀 Creepy old man that made you uncomfortable? Hirotsu and Melville will taught him some respect.

🪢🦀 But, until they find a way to your world, they only can send you some messages to lift your spirit up.

🪢🦀 Ango recently add another menu called "Message for you" to the game that allows them to leave you messages without adding presents. It's not that they were stingy, no. It happened because Gift Box won't allow them to send long messages. Moreover, they can send only one message per day. So, a new menu allows them to send more messages to you.

🪢🦀 You, for the most part, seem to be a cheerful person.

🪢🦀 So, when one day BSD gang felt that you are grieving, they were worried.

🪢🦀 They wanted to help you. But, the only thing they can do is sent another message to you.

🪢🦀 Dazai asked to be the one, who sent the message.

___________________________________

A familiar notification from "Message for You" popped up before your eyes. You mindlessly open it. It was a message from Dazai.

"[Y/N], dear, I hope you are doing well. If you are not... Well, do you want to talk about it? Dazai Osamu"

Little chibi Dazai was standing under the message text, looking at you. You stay silent for a moment. Then you start talking.

"I guess I can talk about it. Yes, you can't hear me, but, at least, I will talk this out. Today is the anniversary of my dear friend's death."

And you talked.

You talked about what happened few years ago. About feeling out of place. About feeling empty. About trying to find anything that can make you feel whole. About uncertainty in the future. About pressure from your family. About you failing in classes.

You talked about meeting your friend. About them been the best person in your life. About them helping you more than anyone at that period of time. They just were there. They didn't force you to speak about your feelings. Not only that, but they didn't shame you about your grades.

They were your anchor. Because of them, you were able to feel better. Life became good again.

And then they died.

You were crying, you can't manage to tell, how exactly they died. But you manage to say, that your friend died in a hospital. And that they managed to tell you something important. That you are good enough, that you shouldn't try to prove your worth to others. That your happiness matters.

Through sobs, you managed to whisper:

"If you think about it, Dazai, we are kinda the same. Both of us were lost, both of us were saved by a kind person, you by Oda, I by my friend, and both of us lost them. Thanks for listening. But, I think, I will go now."

You closed the app.

You didn't notice that Dazai sprite has tears in his eyes.

_____________________________________

🪢🦀 For a moment, everyone was quiet. They were sad after learning about your past.

🪢🦀 Yosano, who already felt bad for hating you before, felt even worse.

🪢🦀 Some of the characters cried. They thought that it's unfair, that someone like you suffered through such traumatic experience.

🪢🦀 All characters were concerned about you. You didn't deserve to experience this pain. They will start working harder. They will reach your world.

🪢🦀 But Dazai has the strongest reaction.

🪢🦀 Dazai was paralyzed. He feels tears running down his cheeks. You two were the same. But, you did something, that Dazai can never do for you. You brought Oda back.

🪢🦀 Dazai looked at the Infirmary door. Oda was standing there, leaning on the wall. Oda also looked concerned and sad.

🪢🦀🍛 Few days ago, you got Oda's card from scout. And Oda, like Shibusawa a few months prior, appears in ADA's office. He was dizzy and lost, but, according to Yosano, he was fine mentally and physically and just needs some rest. Soon he will manage to walk around.

🪢🦀🍛 Dazai was ready to work 24/7 just to reach your world. Oda manage to stop Dazai, before he tried to threaten to shoot Ango, Katai and Fyodor if they didn't find a way to your world immediately.

🪢🦀 Dazai want to hold you in his arms. Dazai want to protect you. Dazai want to take your pain away. Dazai will do anything he can to be with you. You will be happy and safe. He will let you cry on his shoulder.

🍛 Oda want to console you. Oda want to be near you. He isn't planning to replace your friend, but he wants to become as important to you as them. When Oda recovers, he will do his best to help others with finding a way to you.

🪢🦀🍛 Both Oda and Dazai will send you encouraging messages. They will try to make you smile.

🪢🦀🍛 You may not see each other eye to eye, but you are important to them. And they want to keep you safe.

[g0ry0re0]

Josh Futturman (Future Man, 2017, TV Show) - Headcanons

Description: [18+ MDNI] AU where the reader experiences the show's events with Tiger, Wolf, and Josh. This takes place at the end/after the show where you and Josh live together as a couple. / Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

General Notes: Established Relationship, Reader Show Insert, Slight Spoilers For The Ending Of Future Man, Gender Neutral Reader, Romantic Headcanons, Sexual Headcanons Mixed In, No Use Of Y/N, Slight Cursing

Author's Note: Needed to do some headcanons to fill the JHutch void on Tumblr right now, and to get myself back into writing actual fics lol. Also, I can't believe this is only the second thing I've done for my baby boy, Futturman. I love him so much. Hope y'all enjoy! <3

Word Count/Bullet Point Count: 523 Words/30 Bullet Points

You and Josh road trip from Iowa back to California soon after stopping the existence of time travel

You find yourselves doing odd jobs to keep yourself afloat, Josh often doing cleaning jobs

Y'all find a dingy little apartment on the outskirts of L.A.

Despite the smallness of the shitty apartment, you and Josh declared that you didn't need that much anyway, as long as you had each other

Josh definitely gets back into gaming once you come to terms with being stuck in the 2000s

He particularly enjoys Street Fighter EX3 and Tekken Tag Tournament on the PS2 (until Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy 10 come out in the next few years)

You also acquire a Gamecube system once it comes out the next year

You liked playing Pikmin and Mario Kart: Double Dash together (you always played as Luigi to spite him)

You both also try to get into taking care of small plants

There's a lot of dead plants on your kitchen windowsill

Though, Josh has the first flower you ever grew together pressed and hung in your bedroom

After everything that happened, Josh is pretty clingy

When you wake up in the morning, Josh does not leave your side

Whether you're making breakfast, coffee, or just trying to get ready, Josh is practically attached to your hip

He gets especially clingy at night when you two make dinner together and watch a movie y'all rented from Blockbuster

He likes to cuddle A LOT, which can often lead to some more intimate activities

After the events at Haven, Josh was a little nervous about sparking any private moments between you two

But, after the first time together, he quickly got over it

He was worried he would hurt you at first too, but the things you went through in the past few "however-much-time-has-passed", you showed that you can take a little pain

He loves how good you take him, as if you two were made for each other

Unless Josh gets pissed for some reason, he is a definite sub

His favorite position is having you on top in any way, shape, or form

Josh is a sucker for pleasuring his partner, first and foremost, to where he can nearly get himself off just thinking about it

Besides being sexually intimate, you both just love physical contact in general

Josh loves taking you out on little dates, taking you to his favorite places in L.A. (sometimes forgetting what year it is and finding out that place doesn't exist yet)

Josh especially loves taking you to Little Tokyo and the Arts District

Josh also loves when music he enjoys is released and he can finally listen to it again (instead of humming it to himself in the shower)

Same goes for films, he really enjoys being able to go to the theaters to experience it for the "first time" with other people. especially the Marvel movies later on

When Josh observed his parents for the first time, he cried

The last time Josh visited his parents, you took him away with the promise of a picnic in the park before his dad could say anything to him

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Gif: marlosrph on tumblr

[dragon-kazansky]

Midnight meeting

Astarion x Reader/Tav (GN)

Spoilers for the end of the game

It's done. The tadpoles are gone and all that's left is the future waiting for you to start a new chapter of your life. There's one person you're not going to leave behind, however.

Warnings: None really. Fluff. Astarion being Astarion. Not ascended. My game glitches at the end and I couldn't see the scene with Astarion, just Gale and Shadowheart T-posing while the dialogue popped up. So I wrote this.

♡♡♡

The sun had set on, what you could only describe as, a terribly busy day. The fate of everyone and everything relied on you and your friends taking down an Elderbrain.

If someone had told you a few years prior this is what your life would become, you wouldn't have believed them. Yet, you wouldn't change a single thing about it. Any of it.

There have been good times and bad times. It had been a struggle. There were nights where you lay there wondering if that night would be your last. There was also Astarion.

Your darling Astarion.

When the time came for him to make a difficult decision, you had been there to help make the choice. You had grown so close to the vampire, he opened his heart to you. A relationship blossomed unexpectedly. At first you were his entertainment, his guarantee of safety. Then he fell for you for real and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

One night he made up his mind. He liked you. A lot. You were sticking by his side through everything and he wanted more of that. You were so patient. So understanding. So kind. He didn't think he deserved any of it, but he was certainly glad to recieve it all.

You had become his person.

However, now that everything is right in the world again, the tadpole gone and people can go back to living their lives, Astarion can't help feeling guilty.

You had talked him down from ascension, which he was glad for, but also sad about because he could.no longer walk in the sun. He missed the days of waking up and seeing the sun shining on your beautiful face. He missed how it's warmth felt on his skin. He missed how happy you looked during the day.

Here you were, just past midnight, sitting by a fire keeping him company. He is watching you quietly. The glow of the moon filters in from a window. You look beautiful. Yet, his heart his heavy. He feels guilty.

You can feel his eyes on you. You lift your gaze. Those stunning red eyes are gazing at you, but you can tell he is lost in thought. You frown softly.

"Astarion?"

He doesn't move. Whatever is on his mind has really taking him away. Slowly, you reach out. Your hand finds his and your fingers curl around his pale skin. A slight jolt rocks through his body and he blinks. His gaze is on you and he is seeing you again.

"Apologies." His voice is soft. Distant.

"Are you alright?" You ask softly.

"Fine." Astarion turns his head back to the fire, but you can see the way he sulks. You move closer to him, shuffling into his side. Your arms wrap around him in a gentle embrace. You feel the way he craves your touch.

"Talk to me, Astarion. What's on your mind?"

He is silent for a few moments, but when he speaks his voice is soft and sad. "Are you happy?"

You look at him in disbelief. "Is that a real question?"

He nods.

You can't believe he ever felt the need to ask something life that. You lift a hand to his cheek and caress his cold skin. "I'm happier than I have ever been."

"What I mean is... are you happy with me? Staying with me is... is to be stuck in the shadows with me. You have no reason to deprive yourself of the joys of life to stay by my side. I... won't ask that of you."

"Astarion, you're not depriving me of anything. I love you. I will stand by your side because that's what I want. I won't ever leave you by yourself in the shadows."

Astarion's eyes glisten. He looks like he wants to cry. You stroke his cheek with your thumb softly.

"Do you hear me?" You ask softly. "I'm her because I want to be here. I love you more than anything. I am not about to abandon you after everything."

Astarion can't help himself. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you into his chest. He holds you tight and buries his face into your shoulder.

"Gods, I don't deserve you."

You smile.

"I'm exactly what you deserve."

The two of you sit like that for a while. Astarion has never been more grateful for anything. Meeting you, letting you talk him down from ultimate power, and for you chasing him into the shadows when it was all over.

You're his most precious gift, and he will never forget that.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 4

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

aaaaaaand i'm back for another chapter! Again at my desk with my reading buddy (Charlie) tea for this chapter is a soy matcha latte.

So, I thought the conference was a few days from when Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan was in the cave, but im assuming it's annual? Since he was in the caves for a year? p191

Ah JK. the top of the next page - the conference is every 4 years 192

I'm actually so stoked for this demon blood reveal. I want to know how its spun in this "version" of the story p 193

I love how confused shen yuan is, he's still over here thinking he's the villain when he has so clearly been upgraded to Love Interest/Damsel in Distress. IDK what to tell you pp193-194

Okay so now luo binghe is 17. Question though- do we ever actually get an age for Shen Qingqiu? p195

This kid is still here simping. Actually at this point I dont even know who is the simp. Luo Binghe is openly heart eyes and Qin Qingqiu isn't even aware of his own feelings but the way he describes future luo binghe is too much LOL. It is a trainwreck to read. p195

Binghe: *all flirt* Shen Qingqiu: shit. fuck. ah. I need to not fuck this plot point p196

LOL at Shen Qingqiu taking the carriage "I'm frail and indisposed" x3 twink energy p200

not the snacks too LOL p200

oh no! Luo Binghe thinking that Shen Qingqiu has any feelings at all for Liu Mingyan p201

But also then trying to make Shen Qingqiu jealous. Oh boy.

Let's take a second to appreciate how clear and concise the point system is for the conference. like this was well thought out- I love it. It's also giving a bit of hunger games spectator energy p205

This guy (Shen Yuan) already knows the outcome, and yet he's going to gamble (AND GAMBLE BIG) anyways p 208

I cannot with this group following Luo Binghe "my feet hurt :(" p215

why the foot fetish material 💀 217

RIP to the OG timeline's harem- the have been felled to the Demon Realm's Nu Yuan Chen p218

omg this is a massacre p220

awww at liu qingge not letting Shen Qingqiu join the fray. I feel like these two probably have a shit ton of fics pairing them p223

THE HEAD SPIDER WHAT pp226-227

Shen Qingqiu's entrance though!!!!!!!! p227

Shen Qingqiu is even getting the flower poison plot (points for my love interest/damsel in distress plotline) "Stop. Do not pass go. The girl you're supposed to pick the flower for, Qin Wanyue, is right next to us, watching- and you want to deflower it in her presence, and for a big, strong man to boot? Leave your wife some dignity, all right?!" p231

oooo now we get details on who the spy is. Enter Shang Qinghua p233

Shang Qinghhua deserves an Oscar for this performance 236

And more damsel shen qingqiu 242

the miscommunications! oh gosh why is this scene so painful. They're talking about two different things. pp247-248

Oh no. Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan is not okay :( p257

oh no oh no oh no -> heartbreak points?!?!?!? this is so sad p259

OMG WAIT WHAT AN END TO THIS CHAPTER. THE AUTHOR IS HERE TOO???????????? WHAT THE HECK!!!

RE: Who the spy is- A SPY WITHIN A SPY?

Thats all for today!

The twist really twisted me at the end there. AH. I can't wait to read more. Will they work together? will they be mortal enemies??? Will this be the author attempting to usurp Shen Yuan????? I DONT KNOW????

[malewifeharem]

YK I WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT OM STOOD FOR.. ANYWAY CAN WE GET BELPHIE IN THE YAN ALPHABET HOUSE PLEASE :3 ☁️

yandere!belphegor alphabet

彡- ,, yandere om! belphegor alphabet (template from @dear-yandere eheheheh)

cw ⁞ OMSWD CHAPTER 16 SPOILERS, death threats, violence, manipulation, just general yandere behaviour??? not proofread.

an ⁞ lmk if there are any other warnings i should add!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

he loves cuddling and napping with you. it may not seem like he loves you — the only sign of affection you receive, being cuddles and naps. but trust me, his love for you is INTENSE... he has slaughtered many people for you. past lovers, bullies, any and all who have wronged you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

he's willing to eliminate anyone for you. it can get very messy... lucifer has had to call for help to clean up evidence before. although his older brother tries his best to clean up after him, word still got out about the youngest's aggressive tendencies — simply because he leaves too many crime scenes behind, it's almost impossible to clean them all in such a short time. he's probably thought of eradicating the whole of purgatory hall and diavolo's castle too.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

100%. you've heard him call you the meanest names before. he will always remind you of your place as a human —you'll always be inferior to him, like his little pet.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

putting you to sleep when and wherever he likes. arguing with him? go to sleep, maybe you'll start talking sense when you wake. out in public? he suddenly feels like you've spent too long outside, go to sleep, he'll take you home.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

he doesn't tell you much, other than reports of only some of his victims. he keeps most of his carnal, deranged thoughts to himself. you're still well aware of his mania through his actions but you'll never know how deep his violent rabbit hole goes.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

if he's in a good mood, he might play along, just don't take it too far. if he's not, he'll lazily warn you first. if that doesn't work, he'll threaten you — reminding you of what he's done, what he can always do. if you decide to continue being a 'brat', he won't hesitate to wring your neck — not too harshly, he still needs to keep you around.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

he thinks it's amusing. he forces you test his limits and wear skimpy clothes out and visit the dangerous places he's warned you about. he'll let you go out and 'have your fun' but he's stalking your every move — like you're his prey. he likes feeling jealous of the other people around you so he can 'reclaim' you back at home. (read N for what happens at home hehe)

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

you went too far with your 'teasing' one night and it ended in him strangling you with his tail again. you were seeing all black, your struggling limbs almost giving out on you. you genuinely thought you were going to succumb to the same demon again, but he eventually let go of you. it took you awhile to recover — laying on the floor, having a coughing fit and your vision still barely coming back. he stared down at you before letting out a satisfied "hmph." maybe you'll learn your lesson this time.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

believe it or not, he does imagine marriage with you. you, walking down the aisle in a beautiful wedding dress, towards him. he'll prepare a ring for you once you've settled down with him and stop fighting back. (he won't be doing any chores in the rs)

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

he stirs up his own feelings of jealousy so it's kind of his fault. he likes possessing you and claiming you as his. whether or not its by punishments or marking you physically. (should i make a nsfw continuation of this...?)

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he loves the scent of you —stealing pieces of your clothing to smell and sleep with. he'll stick his nose as deep into your neck as he can to get the essence of you into his system. this is part of why he loves cuddling and napping with you too — holding you closely and wrapping his tail and limbs around you.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

he does get broody if you hang out around other people other than beel. anyone else from HoL, purgatory hall and especially diavolo and barbatos are completely off limits to you. before he started acted aggressively, he would defensively lurk around you to make sure no one got too affectionate with you. when you notice him, he has to clutch his shirt to stop his thumping heart from beating out of his chest. surely this means you appreciate his protection!

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

nope. he acts aggressively towards everyone but beel. everyone close to the brothers are aware of his hostility and have tried reasoning with him before but has basically given up. diavolo has tried restraining the youngest brother again but lucifer has promised to keep his violence at bay.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

oh... he's cruel. if he's lenient, he'll give you nightmares in your sleep. if you've been disobedient, good luck... he'll wrap his tail around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze — reminding you of your previous end. you never know if he'll actually take your life again — that's what's most scary. he knows how much it terrifies you but he's a demon baby, it's what they do.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

your health is constantly at risk after your body has had to endure multiple chokings but proper healthcare isn't available to you. the only medication you'll get is some ointment meant for demon burns.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

it depends on his mood. he's very unpredictable, with his patience levels fluctuating very often — making him all the more dangerous.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

he would be in a state of pure disbelief for months, hallucinating and dreaming versions of you. then, he'll move onto finding ways to bring you back or pray that you'll return back to him in hell. (we all goin to hell for even reading this bffr)

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

although he lets you roam around devildom somewhat freely, he'll never completely let go of you. you're his to keep and possess.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

being locked up in the attic created attachment issues in him. he finds a need to claim you and feel wanted by you. when you come running back to him, he feels euphoria — even if you're forced to.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

he feels uneasy, not knowing how to confront the situation directly so he uses the only method he knows. putting you to sleep is the easiest way for him to sedate you and calm you down. isolating yourself breaks his heart but he'll try his best to break your defensive stance and get you to come and cuddle to ease the tension away.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

(i'll skip this since i still dont't know the definition of a classic yandere TT)

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

if you could somehow find a way to possess a spell book, you could try finding a way to create a clone of you while the real you goes to find diavolo or barbatos. they have the authority and power to guard you from him and lock him back in that attic. lucifer will definitely be disappointed that he's failed to protect you again but you've had enough.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

yes. (read F and N)

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he treasures whatever affection you spare him and he secretly worships the ground you walk on. he doesn't try to win you over because there is no one for him to compete for him the begin with! none of them can fight him if they're all six feet below ground.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

he could only stand watching you from afar for a few months before snapping. he couldn't go on any longer without you in his room, in his arms, under his control and claim.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

yes yes yes and yes. he doesn't care if you lose your mind, then you'll be even more susceptible to his manipulation. you'll be much more obedient and finally stop whining and struggling all the damn time!

[hier--soir]

one last time

pairing: abby anderson x WLF f!reader, set within tlou pt II timeline summary: when the woman you love comes crawling back in the middle of the night, can you convince her to stay? warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] mainly angst, mentions of death, established past relationship, wlw, includes mentions of seraphites and wlf from tlou2, contains spoilers and plot points from the last of us part II game below the cut, mentions multiple canon deaths from the second game so beware if you don't want the game/potential future show plot points spoiled. word count: 2k

There was someone in your room. It was the middle of the night, and you’d woken with a start, acutely aware of a shuffling sound, as someone closed the door and stepped into your space.

Slowly, trying not to make a sound, you slid your hand underneath your pillow and gripped the hilt of the dagger you kept there. Your heart raced, blood roaring in your ears as they strained to listen for any sign of the intruder getting closer to the bed where you laid. The living quarters were so small though, and with the door only a metre or two from your bed, you knew it was a matter of seconds before they were on you. Sliding the knife out from under the pillow, you tightened your shoulders and prepared to leap out of bed, until a soft voice spoke your name in the darkness.

Your eyes shot open, and you strained to see her through the black void. But you’d know that voice anywhere. You heard her say your name every night in your dreams, and woke up every morning to the crushing reality that it hadn’t been real. That it would never be real again. But that voice… it was undeniably her.

“Abby?” you breathed, sitting up warily.

You fumbled for the lamp beside your bed and tugged the string quickly, soft yellow light flaring around you. And there she was. That all too familiar angular face and strong arms. Long braid hanging over her shoulder, just the way you remembered. Dirt coated her skin, clothes damp from the downpour of rain that you could hear raging outside your window. Cuts and bruises littered her face, harsh scrapes marring the skin that you loved so dearly.

It had been months since you’d last seen her; since the group of them had headed off to Wyoming to find… him. And she’d been back at the base since, but you’d avoided her like the plague. Couldn’t bear to see her, after the way things had been left between the two of you. And then a few days ago, she was gone again. It was all anyone could talk about; how Abby Anderson had fled the base and was out searching for Owen… how they were both traitors to the cause.

Her blue eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, and your heart panged with nervousness. She didn’t dare say another word, gaze trained on the knife you still held in your grasp, pointed out in her direction.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked warily, feeling your hand begin to shake. “How did you even get inside? Fuck, Abby, Isaac has everyone looking for you, he… he’s saying you’re a deserter.”

Abby shook her head slowly, face slack with an expression of hopelessness. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go.”

With an ache in your chest, you lowered the weapon, knowing you could never bring yourself to use it on her anyway. Her shoulders relaxed, and she shrugged off her pack. It hit the ground with a sharp clatter, and you noticed a bloodied axe clipped to the side of it. She slumped down on the edge of your bed, and the frame creaked with the added weight.

“He interrogated me, you know,” you shuddered. “After you went after Owen. Was convinced I was a part of it, that I kne-“

“Isaac is gone,” she interrupted quickly, not meeting your gaze.  

You stared, eyes widening a fraction, and slowly asked, “What the fuck happened?”

“Owen and Mel too,” she said hoarsely, staring down her at her hands. “They’re… I found them, in the aquarium. Both of them... she killed them.”

All the breath in your lungs rushed out, leaving you lightheaded. “W-what?” you stuttered. No.

“It’s her,” she ground out, eyebrows pinched together. “She knows who we are and she’s… she’s fucking picking us off, one by one.”

Shaking your head desperately you rubbed a knuckle into the corner of your eye, willing the brimming tears to dry as you absorbed all the information. You knew this would happen. You fucking knew there would be consequences, and yet she didn’t listen. She never fucking listened.

“Who are you talking about?”

“The girl,” she chuckled mirthlessly. “The girl that was with the smuggler. And his brother.”

It felt like the walls were closing in on you as you stared at her. The woman you’d loved for so long, who’s bed you’d once shared, who you’d held while she told you stories of her late father. The women who’d chosen revenge over a life with you... just to come crawling back in the middle of the night.

“What are you doing here?” you repeated, voice shaky and thick with emotion. “Why did you come back?”

“I needed to see you,” she whispered, finally glancing over to you. Her eyes shone brightly in the dim light of your room, and you could see the tears that stained her cheeks, the tracks they’d left through the dirt on her skin. “Things are bad, and I don’t… I don’t know if I’m gonna make it through this. I needed to see you, just one last time.”

“Abby,” you choked out, pushing forward to rest on your knees, hands hovering over her face as you contemplated touching her. You knew that if you touched her, all the progress you’d made, all the efforts you’d gone to in order to try and get over her, would be out the window. “Please,” you breathed heavily, shoulders shaking. She leaned forward so her cheek brushed your fingers and your face crumpled, allowing your hands to rest on her face, thumbs brushing along her skin.

“Please don’t do this, I can’t fucking do this again. I told you,” your voice cracked, thumb pausing on her freckled cheekbone. “I fucking told you nothing good would come from going after him. But you couldn’t just…”

“I’m sorry,” her eyes screamed in earnest. “I can’t… I couldn’t keep going without coming back here to say that. You were right, and I’m sorry, but there’s no turning back now. There’s no undoing this. She knows who I am, and she’s coming for me, but… but I’m gonna find her first, and I’m gonna make her pay for what she did to them.”

“How?” your eyebrows raised incredulously. “Abby, you’re alone, you can’t-“

“I’m not alone,” she said coldly, and you froze, staring at her in confusion.

“Abby,” you said quietly, shaking your head. Your hands dropped from her face. “You can’t be serious… it-it’s true? They said Owen killed Danny to save one of them…. are you with the Scars?”

“No,” she sighed in frustration. “He’s not a Scar anymore, he- he saved my life, and I trust him.”

“I can’t hear this,” you frowned deeply, lip curling up at her words. “You know I never wanted any part in this. If they find out you were here, they’ll lock me up, they’ll fucking interrogate me for information, Abby, I’ll lose my position. Don’t tell me anything else.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she replied quickly, reaching up to rub her shoulder. She massaged the muscle firmly, fingertips dragging across her skin in a circular motion as she cringed.

“You’re hurt,” you murmured grimly.

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head. “I fell in Wyoming.”

“You’re a shit liar,” you grunted, nudging her thigh with your foot. She grabbed it, quick as a snake, her fingers curling around the arch of it and holding it to her thigh. Your face softened, and you frowned gently at her.

“I’ll go,” she whispered, meeting your eye. “I just… I wanted to be with you, just for a minute. Needed to see you. I couldn’t leave things the way they were; couldn’t have the last time I saw you be that.”

That day, weeks before, flashed through your mind. The two of you, in the very same room, glaring at each other.

 “If you go, this is over,” you’d told her. “I mean it Abby, don’t fucking do this. Nothing good will come from it. It won’t bring him back.”

“I’m going,” she’d shouted. “And they’re coming with me. Owen, Manny, all of them. They want what I want. And I thought you wanted it too.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” you’d said. “I’m not going. Why can't this be enough for you? To stay here, with me, and just forget about him?”

Wiping a tear from your cheek, you nodded slowly, leaning in so your shoulder rested against hers.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured softly. You didn’t stop her as she leaned in, resting her forehead against yours, and tilted her chin up so your lips brushed. Shaky breaths escaped your mouths, mingling in the air between your faces. Not for a long time had either of you been nervous around one another. So unsure, so hesitant… Pushing the thoughts aside, you kissed her firmly, ignoring the way your heart cracked as the familiar taste of her hit your lips. “I’m sorry,” you repeated against her mouth, and she whimpered, gripping your face gently. You despised the way your body reacted to such a small touch from her; the way your shirt was suddenly too tight around your torso, the way your underwear suffocated the warmth between your thighs. She was intoxicating, overriding every rational thought in your mind until all you could think was Abby, Abby, Abby.  

You fell backwards onto the bed, pulling her down with you, until her warm heavy weight rested against your chest. Her knee worked its way in between your thighs, pressing you down into the mattress. You clutched at her back, kissing her desperately, face still wet with tears. Her lips pressed longingly to yours, soft pants escaping her mouth as she pushed your head deeper into the pillows, holding you down and stealing the breath from your lungs. Your head was swimming, and you shivered at the feeling of her wet clothes dragging along your skin. She pulled back from the kiss with a gasp, tucking her face into your neck as she caught her breath. A soft kiss pressed against your pulse point and you sighed, closing your eyes and relaxing into her touch. She whispered something against your skin, but you couldn’t make out the words.

The sound of rain battering against the window filled the space with white noise as the pair of you laid in your small bed, limbs tangled together. Abby’s fingers stroked your cheek softly, and she pulled back to look at you, eyes watching you so intensely you could’ve sworn she was trying to memorise your features.

After a few moments, a soft sigh escaped her lips. “I have to go,” she whispered, eyebrows furrowing, and the crack through the middle of your heart deepened. She saw the look on your face and gave you a forlorn smile. “It took me half a day to get here,” she admitted sullenly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

You watched as she rose, stretching out her shoulder again before reaching down to grab her pack. She towered over the bed as she looked down at you one last time. Fat, hot tears brimmed on your lower eyelashes as you watched her turn toward the door.  

“Please,” you whispered to her back in the dim light, seeing her shoulders tense, head turning a fraction to glance at you from the corner of her eye. “Stay. We can figure this out, I… I’ll convince them to let you stay. Just please, don’t leave me again. Don’t do this.”

“I have to see this through,” she said quietly, in a tone that left no room for argument. Tears dripped down your face and onto your pillow, leaving wet patches in their wake. You made no effort to wipe them away as you nodded despondently.

“I love you,” you cried hopelessly. “Please.”

“I love you too,” she rasped, and you knew from the finality in her voice that this was it. The last time you’d see her. You could feel it in your bones; the undeniable truth of the moment.

“May your survival be long,” you choked out, shoulders shaking against your bed as you fought against the sob rising in your throat.

Abby’s hand gripped the doorknob, and she turned to look at you one last time. Her eyes raked over your body, and she offered one small, sad smile before she stepped into the hall.

“May my death be swift.”  

[nametakensff]

Suggestible (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

The first fic of a few I have for these two because I am deeep into this shit now lol. Ended up at 4K!

H/arry, whilst working on the murder case in M/artinaise and ever so slowly piecing his identity together, notices an interesting reaction in K/im to his budding cold. I guess the first part of a series that will become increasingly NSFW, but for now mostly just alluding to it!

Based on an insane little piece of dialogue in the game where K/im suggests that other people sneezing makes him sneeze

~~~~~~

Content:

Future/hinted M/M, cold sneezes, sympathetic sneezes, H/arry has a latent sneezing fetish that he doesn't remember having yet, spray, stifles, sneezing into handkerchiefs, slight elements of voyeurism but only because H/arry is a confused mess lmao

CW: lots of drug and alcohol mentions, lots of self-hatred

NB - I guess please don't read if you plan on playing the game and want to go in with no prior knowledge - it doesn't really have any plot heavy spoilers but takes place within the story

(also also - decided to write this in 2nd person narrative to somewhat resemble the style of game play - it's not perfect but it was fun to try haha)

Minors DNI please!

Lieutenant Kitsuragi trails behind you as you jog your way across the empty boardwalk and towards the fishing village. The air is piercing and bitterly cold – you are starting to feel the effects of it as the salty air whips against your face. It has been snowing on and off for hours, and you are woefully underdressed. This has not been a good day for you – few new leads, endless dead ends. And a hangover. The hangover to end all hangovers. Not even the frigid winter weather can distract you from the dull thud of a lingering headache, painful pulses beating in time with your heart. It feels as though your brain is too swollen – or your skull is too tight.

Suddenly, you feel it – the familiar, fluttering sensation of a building sneeze. You have been a little under the weather ever since you awoke in your hotel room several days earlier, having no recollection of who you are and woefully bereft of substances to abuse. You had put any subsequent discomfort down to just that – the miserable lack of alcohol, nicotine and narcotics in your system. This tickle, however – it is something all of its own. You stop dead in your tracks, practically skidding to a stop as it crests. You have no hope of holding back the encroaching sneeze. Your mouth hangs open, a great yawn of irritation, before – at last – release.

It comes out sounding more like a desperate shriek than anything else; a few startled seagulls scatter, flying away in a maelstrom of confusion and feathers. You didn’t mean to cause such a scene, but the cold air, the breeze, and now the beginning of a miserable cold – it all proves too much for you. You take in another shuddering gasp before you’ve even recovered from the previous explosion and do it all over again.

“HAAAEEEIISHHHHhhh!!!”

There are no seagulls left to scatter this time, but you hardly notice for the way this sneeze, even more violent than the one before it, sends you flying forward and staggering on your feet. You manage to catch yourself before you fall face down on the sandy ground, panting slightly in the aftermath. It practically tore itself out of you, leaving your throat more than a little hoarse. Perhaps a drink would be just the thing to remedy your misery…

You’re shaken out of your alcoholic deliberation by a familiar, soft voice. Lieutenant Kitsuragi is resting a gentle, gloved hand on your shoulder, hovering next to your crouched form. His voice is as placid as always, but you can’t help but notice a slight hint of concern. You right yourself immediately and snuffle at the mess that’s threatening to overflow from your nose, already a bright shade of red from years of alcohol abuse and the biting cold of the beach.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor?”

The Lieutenant notices the thickness of the sound, a barely perceptible look of displeasure passing over his face. You see him reach into his pockets and pull out a large handkerchief – the very same you have seen him use before to cover his face as you performed a field autopsy together. He proffers it to you and you hesitate for just a moment - then your nose starts to run into your moustache. This prompts you to take it from him and snuffle into it apologetically. You realise this pathetic sniffling will do nothing to stem the flow – you surrender and blow your nose with as much conviction as you possibly can. The sound of it is devastatingly loud, almost as disruptive as the sneezes preceding it. You glance at Kim sheepishly from behind the material. If it’s as disgusting to Lieutenant Kitsuragi as it sounded to you, he doesn’t so much as flinch.

When you’re finished, you offer the soiled fabric back to him with an outstretched hand. He looks at it with mild dismay.

“You keep that, officer. I carry a spare with me at all times.”

Stupid. That was stupid of you. Why would you hand him a snot rag? You dismiss the thought before the negativity drags you down further into the already miserable grips of your hangover. But for whatever reason, you keep note of this new information regarding the handkerchiefs. It’s not as though this is out of the ordinary for Kim. He’s so organised and focused – a great cop. Not like you. Of course he would carry a spare. Moving on, you ask the lieutenant for his opinion of what you ought to do next.

“Hm…We should return to the Whirling-In-Rags. Try Klaasje again and see if she’s ready to discuss the murder in more detail.”

It sounds like a perfect idea to you. The wind is fiercely cold and you never did get round to buying a windbreaker. Your hangover is making it impossible to tell if the major discomfort you’re feeling is from the alcohol dissipating within your husk of a body, or the virus threatening to take hold of your sinuses. Either way, getting out of the cold is imperative.

You approach the vicinity of the Whirling-In-Rags Hostel – at last. Your chest burns. Normally, a brisk jog is nothing to you – if anything, it energises your ailing body after a particularly lengthy binge. But today, you feel miserably worn out. You pause for a moment, look towards the Lieutenant, and attempt to speak. You fail, nothing but a series of wheezing gasps issuing from between your lips, followed by an increasingly hacking cough. You buckle over your knees and continue to hack like the washed-up middle-aged man you know you are. Kim places a hand on your back - he seems worried.

“This isn’t good. You’re unwell, detective. Perhaps you should rest a while in your room?”

Something tells you this isn’t a suggestion exclusively for your own benefit. A perfunctory glance tells you that Lieutenant Kitsuragi is tired, and as miserably cold as you. He wouldn’t mind a break inside a warm building, thawing out over a cup of coffee. Nevertheless, you feel disappointment blooming in your chest. As if you weren’t already a pathetic excuse of a policeman - missing memory, decked head to toe in questionable clothes and with a penchant for drug and drink on the clock – you’re now so weak you can’t even handle a mild case of rhinovirus. Pathetic.

You stand upright in an attempt to signal that you are and always have been a perfect beacon of health. You tell the Lieutenant that time is of the essence; you’ve been working on this case for days and have no time for further setbacks. He acknowledges this with a small nod; he seems to appreciate this professional, business-like approach to the matter. He doesn’t say anything more but merely walks beside you as you stride towards the Whirling-In-Rags.

You barely manage to take a few steps before the tickle is upon you again. You tense your jaw and attempt to quell the sensation by taking in shallow, measured breaths, but no dice. In seconds, it tears its way out of you as before, echoing off the walls of the nearby buildings. It is so loud that you wonder if the scabs protesting outside of the Union can hear it over the sounds of their own angry chants. Again, you stumble forward under the force of it, feeling light-headed.

The Lieutenant reaches out to grip your shoulder, steadying you just in time. You wait and sniffle miserably in preparation for the following sneeze, lingering in the depths of your sinuses, but it never comes. You straighten up, blinking tears of effort from your tired eyes, when you become aware of a certain sensation. Kim’s hand squeezes your shoulder with a sudden flex. Could this be a gesture of affection? Reassurance? This is not the Lieutenant’s regular style. He is far too cool for that kind of thing.

You look over your shoulder in curiosity as the Lieutenant continues his grip, despite your having collected yourself. You can see that behind the lenses of his glasses, his eyes are unfocused and heavy-lidded. His mouth hangs slightly open, and he is holding a fist – expectantly? – before his face. The expression is…familiar. You’d seen it before, though not on Lieutenant Kitsuragi.

As you furrow your brow in deep consideration, reaching for an explanation that only just manages to elude you, slight movement from Kim pulls you out of your thoughts. You watch as his head tilts back, stays there for a just a moment before he’s jerking forward into his gloved fist, pressing it against his nose and mouth. His features contract severely, moulding his ordinarily placid face into a twisted, almost angry and unrecognisable countenance. You feel his fingers flex again. His entire body shudders, and as it does so, you hear him utter a tiny sound.

“-hHdt’!”

You blink, still not putting two and two together. Maybe this amnesia was worse than you had initially assumed it to be. Was he – seizing? No. Of course not. You continue to watch in confusion as he seems to uncrumple with a gentle exhalation. You think he might be done, but no. Just as quickly as one breath is exhaled, a replacement is sucked back in hurriedly. You watch as he repeats the action, ducking forward into his fist again, more forcefully this time. His shoulders jump with the effort and his hand squeezes substantially harder against you.

“h’Ngxt-!! hh…”

That strange sound again – this time followed by an uncharacteristically shaky exhale.  A moment later the Lieutenant straightens up and assumes his regular composure, releasing your shoulder as if nothing just happened. If you hadn’t watched this series of events unfold right in front of you, you’re sure you would have missed it altogether. He blinks several times as if to clear away tears. Still you have no idea what the fuck just happened – any remnants of the pained expression that cinched his features tight has vanished, leaving him to look as calm and collected as before. You stare at him, eyes roving over his face. This intrusive observation gives you the last bit of information you need to understand. His nostrils flare delicately as he indulges in a sniffle, moisture gathering around the irritated rims and glittering ever so slightly in the afternoon sunlight.

Had those been…sneezes? Those tiny little swallows of air?! You feel a grin spread across your face, any discomfort of your own forgotten for the moment. You bless him enthusiastically. Ignoring the inkling that tells you not to tease or cajole him, you also comment on how adorable the Lieutenant’s sneezes are. Like a kitten. A badass cop kitten.

He thanks you somewhat reluctantly, blatantly ignoring the kitten comment. He clearly wants you to move on from him and focus again on the case. You continue to make your way towards Whirling-In-Rags, but don’t miss out of the corner of your eye the sight of the Lieutenant covertly pinching his nostrils shut, before pulling down towards his septum. He is wiping the resultant moisture of those sneezes away with his gloved fingers. This realisation makes your heartbeat spike for just a moment. You choose to ignore this.

You walk into the establishment – the increasingly familiar sounds and sights greet you as you pass through the door. The Hardie boys are in their booths, an unwelcome fixture. You glance sidelong at them – Titus glares daggers back at you. You think you should puff up your chest and stare him down in a battle of warring machismo, but at last minute think otherwise. It would do nothing to repair your already abysmal lack of authority if you sneezed at him mid stand-off. You glance away. He smirks, arms crossed firmly over his broad chest, clearly enjoying this silent display of dominance. You get an all-consuming urge to spin around and put him in his place – but you feel shitty. Much too shitty. It would probably end with his fist in your face.

You approach the staircase leading to the bedrooms when you feel that familiar, irritating tickle blossoming anew in your sinuses. Not again, not here! Not in a busy room full of so many people. You want to maintain your cool cop image – sneezing is not a cool thing to do. You briefly think to yourself that Kim is cool, even when he sneezes - but it is a foolish thought. You’re not him. You fight to suppress the gasp that fills your lungs, fumbling in your jacket pocket for the handkerchief the lieutenant had given you – but you’re too late. Two huge sneezes rocket out of you, sending veritable clouds of spray across the base of the staircase. They practically break the sound barrier, two near identical “IIIIEEEESHHHHhhtt!!!” screams of irritation. Kim doesn’t steady you this time – you reach out and do that yourself with the help of the banister.

Jeers erupt from the Hardie boys across the cafeteria floor – you only just manage to hold back an embarrassed blush from creeping over your weary face. You have finally managed to extract the handkerchief from your pocket. You decide a honking performance will do very little to remedy this utter humiliation, dabbing softly at your aching nose instead. You begin to climb the stairs; a sordid walk of shame.

“That’s just what this establishment needs, following the hanging, bloated corpse – a biohazardous drunk anointing his plague unto us all.”

That snark came from Garte – the bartender. No, the Cafeteria Manager.

“Just ignore him.” Kim mutters close to your ear. You proceed to flip the bird at Garte instead. As you make your way upstairs, you swear you can hear a tiny gasp from behind you. Without the sensation of a hand gripping your shoulder and signalling the completion of a sneeze, you have to strain your ears to even confirm they happen at all.

“’Ngxt’ch! h’ddt’! Hh’Ggkt!!”

Those are definitely sneezes. Slightly louder than before, enough that you can hear the Lieutenant’s own soft voice blending in with the strained sound of them. Your stomach is suddenly alive with butterflies. In your mind’s eye you can visualise the way his face crumples with each of them – nostrils flaring outwards as he valiantly bites down against them. You are sure if you try to do the same, your head will explode. Or at the very least, an aneurism is a surefire possibility. You shudder at the thought of it. You want to offer a blessing to the Lieutenant, but based on the previous reception it received, you decide against it. This could be the start of a beautiful partnership – Harry’n’Kim, Du Bois and Kitsuragi. Disco Cop and Cool Cop. You can always brainstorm on your trademark duo name at a later date. Either way, you decide to ignore the Lieutenant’s strangled outburst. A soft exhalation behind you signals that he is finished – for now.

You reach the top of the stairs. With great dismay, you realise that perhaps for the first time in your life, you are experiencing firsthand the effect of all those years of chain smoking. The wheezing gasps bend you over for a moment. Lieutenant Kitsuragi stands nearby, just short of nervously hovering, waiting for you to recover. You finally catch your breath and stride as confidently as you can towards Klaasje’s room. You extend a fist to knock on the door when you feel the soft touch of Kim’s hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks. This has to be a new record. He has touched you on four separate occasions – all in a span of under thirty minutes.

“Perhaps you should take this opportunity to rest after all, detective.” Kim offers. You sense by the firmness of his voice that this is less of a gentle suggestion and more of a request. He smiles wryly.

“You are not very likely to get her to open up to you if you deafen her with your sneezing.”

Your stomach flips at hearing that word come out of his mouth. It is confusing but not entirely unpleasant. Whilst he doesn’t laugh, you can see the amusement held in the subtle quirking of his lips. You think for a moment that you should tell him your sneezes are the pinnacle of masculinity – ladies dig a huge, manly sneeze. You choose instead to sigh, practically deflating as any will to remain poised upright seeps out of you. You know he’s right. The filthy sheets of your bed beckon to you.

You agree with him and turn heel to your own room. He looks pleased – perhaps a little relieved. How disastrous did he think the interaction would have gone, had you proceeded? He turns to face you as you stand outside your respective doors.

“Don’t worry, detective. I will wake you up in a couple of hours, and we can resume our investigation. There is no point in making yourself ill.”

You nod. You are both about to enter your rooms when you feel it again. The tickle. It is persistent and increasingly difficult to control. You feel a gasp inflating your chest, helpless to do anything other than let the sensation overpower you. There is no time to even lift the handkerchief to your face. You do manage to turn away from the Lieutenant as the sneeze rips through you, baptising your own door with a trembling “aaAAAAEEEEGSHHHHhh!!!” A cloud of spray settles on the wood, droplets of spray shimmering under the harsh lighting. Gross.

“Bless you.”

A blessing. You feel relieved – and slightly giddy. Your stomach flips again. It is likely out of politeness, but the Lieutenant has at least not run for the hills in response to your disgusting display. You start to thank him when – oh, sweet confusion - he interrupts you with another sneeze of his own. He isn’t fast enough to bring a fist to his face this time. You can see every minute twitch of his facial muscles as he suppresses the sneeze through sheer willpower alone.

“Hh’Gnxt!! Huh’NGxtt!!”

The second sneeze follows immediately – his head dips twice in quick succession. That look of desperation suits him just fine, you think. You decide to abandon the thought as quickly as it forms. You are only partially successful in doing so. His hand reaches into the pocket of his trousers – he succeeds in removing the handkerchief in the duration of that second sneeze, you notice in great appreciation. You would never have managed to pull that off.

You watch as he raises the handkerchief before his face for a final sneeze. This one looks more irritable than the ones prior – the expression plastered on his face is openly more agonised than before. He pauses for what is likely only a second longer before the tickle reaches its apex, but that is more than enough time for another thought to cross your mind – one of an entirely salacious nature. You think that the face he is making resembles the sweet agony of another kind of release. You try to unthink it, but it’s too late – you’re absolutely, undeniably thinking it. The second passes. At last, the lieutenant smothers his final sneeze into the waiting folds of the handkerchief. It is considerably louder than before, even with the assistance of the fabric covering.

“hHh’nNGgxtt!!..chu…”

The soft vocal exclamation that rounds off the sneeze sounds weary, like it took a lot out of him. He sniffles briefly into the handkerchief, rubbing at his nose before tucking the cloth back into his pocket. Is it your imagination, or is said appendage starting to look a little reddened from the effort?

“Excuse me.” The Lieutenant mumbles, sounding uncomfortable. Embarrassed, perhaps?

You bless him before you remember to bite your tongue. Luckily, he accepts it with a soft “Thank you.” You watch as he removes his glasses and swipes at a stray tear rolling down his cheek. He replaces them just as quickly, giving you hardly any time to take in the sight of him without the thick frames. It is for a brief moment only, but the word ‘vulnerable’ comes to mind.

It dawns on you quite suddenly that he must be sneezing because you have infected him with your disgusting, no good germs. You ask him if this is the case, unable to hold back the shaking guilt as you voice your question-cum-self-abasement. He waves it off immediately.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that, detective, I assure you. I’m fine.” He pauses for a moment, looking hesitant to say more. You say nothing. This awkward silence seems to prompt him to continue.

“Sometimes the power of suggestion is too much for me. When somebody sneezes in my vicinity, I find my body often wanting to do the same. And your sneezes are particularly…” He trails off for a moment, in want of an appropriate term.

Masculine? Sexy? Bad-ass? You go with the first one. He shakes his head gently.

“…Suggestible.” He finishes. You’re not quite sure you catch his drift, but you do recall that he had mentioned something like this before. ‘Dancing makes you dance like sneezing makes you sneeze’. He had said that, in the church – he had been enthusiastic to interject, and then immediately changed the subject. You had had no idea what he had meant at the time – not once had you ever heard anyone say anything even remotely similar. It had been easily forgotten. Until now.

You smirk. You hope it isn’t akin to ‘the expression’, but is happening nonetheless. You cannot help it. This. Is. Gold.

You manage to hold back from laughing, but what you cannot help is calling him adorable. For the second time that day.

“I’m a 43 year old RCM policeman. I am far from adorable, officer.” He states firmly, almost as if he is chiding you. You do not miss, however, the softness in his eyes and the momentary twitching of his lips into a tiny smile. You do laugh at that. Bad idea. The laugh quickly morphs into a painful, wrenching cough. Whatever light-hearted moment you’d been sharing, you have ruined it. Your throat burns with the effort. God, but you want a drink. And a smoke. Maybe some speed. You finish at last, wiping spittle from your lips with the back of your sleeve.

“Please rest, Harry. I will check up on you soon.”

He casts a final worried glance your way before nodding curtly. You watch as the door clicks shut behind him. After a moment, you make your way into your own room, not even bothering to kick off your shoes as you collapse onto the pile of twisted sheets. Far too tired to think about the past that eludes you, about the case, about any of it, your eyes start to slip shut.

But it is back. The tickle. You have no means of fighting it, and you’re not sure you want to. You sneeze, smothering it into your sheets at the last second.

“HHHRRMMMPPPSHHHh!!!”

You peer cautiously at the sheets. You have left a considerably large damp patch on the section that covered your mouth and nose. Gross – that should be your middle name. You feel disgusting, but before you can begin another spiral of self-deprecation the exhaustion overwhelms you entirely. A final thought passes through your mind as you surrender to it. Did the Lieutenant hear you?

Next door, settling into the chair at his desk, Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi tenses at the sound of your sneeze. It was loud enough to be heard not only the next room over – indeed, anyone on the second floor may have been startled by it. His breath hitches, once, twice, before he is tipping forward into his gloved hands, steepled around his face. Depleted of energy from the prior onslaughts, he is unable to hold them back at all.

“-hh! Hck’tshuu! Hupt’Tshhht!! ‘TSCHH’uu!! hm...”

He glances in unmasked irritation at the damp speckling of moisture now adorning the palms of his gloves.

“Merde!” He grumbles under his breath. The Lieutenant pulls the gloves from his hands, pausing to scrub at his itchy nostrils with his knuckles for one indulgent moment, before resuming the paperwork he had failed to complete the night before. He hopes, for both your own sake and his, that once he wakes you your sneezing spell will have passed – due to a temporary chill and nothing more. Neither of you have the time for this absurdity. He sniffles once more and begins to write.

[venusjeon]

dragon bond

you're forced to marry your older brother in the tradition of your house, but it's the younger one who owns your heart.

♔ PAIRING: prince!hoseok x princess!reader

♔ GENRE: house of the dragon au, angst, fluff, smut

♔ WORD COUNT: 5.2k

♔ WARNINGS: incest!! yup, they're targaryen bro&sis. JEALOUSY, underage making out+groping+grinding (hs 15/oc 17), swearing, drinking, bloodplay, "cheating", +18 oral, loss of virginity (guys i think i have a kink)

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: you don't really need to have watched house of the dragon or game of thrones to understand this (there are no spoilers btw) but just know it's its own medieval fantasy world. also, sorry it took longer than usual, school and the tedious smut bit at the end are to blame:(

120 AC

Today of all days, he was doing it again.

Your brother Yoongi was only five and ten years of age, yet he didn’t shy away from flirting with every lady or maid that crossed his path. It mattered not to him that your parents had betrothed you to one another, nor that most girls only indulged him because he was heir to the throne.

To you, his future queen, it did matter.

Crossing the great hall full of nobles who’d travelled to the capital from all over the Seven Kingdoms to celebrate your thirteenth name day, you reached Yoongi and dismissed the lady whose cheek he was caressing. Although she curled her upper lip at your curt tone, she wasted no time in running off, glad you’d intervened. Your brother wasn’t, especially when you grabbed his hand and dragged him to an empty balcony.

The views were beautiful, of the whole city and beyond, but each time you stood there you couldn’t help but wonder how many brothels in that labyrinth of alleyways Yoongi had frequented. In various occasions already, you’d heard him slip out of his chambers in the dead of night, seen him leave the Red Keep from your window… He always wore a cloak that covered his hair so no one on the streets would recognise him, but you reckoned the whores of King’s Landing knew well enough whom he was.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he spat after shaking you off assertively, with scant regard for whether he’d hurt you. He had a little, but you were too used to being treated so by him to complain. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“My betrothed. Have you forgotten that I’m to be your queen, stand beside you when you sit on the Iron Throne? I think you must have, else you wouldn’t woo other girls so openly.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I can do whatever I want, and it’s no business of yours.”

“Of course it is! You’re humiliating me before the court! How can I expect to be respected as a queen if my husband won’t respect me as his wife?”

“You’ll not be a queen, you fool,” Yoongi laughed, the sound pricking your heart as though it were a dagger. “You’ll be my consort, there to just breed me heirs. Nothing more. But this is not about respect, is it? It’s about jealousy.”

There it was, the twisting of the dagger. You couldn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t know w-what you’re talking about.”

Yoongi sighed. “Listen well, you’re a freak and I don’t like you, the only reason I’m marrying you is because father’s forcing me to. It’s getting annoying, your following me around, so stop it! Go play with your dolls, or sew, or whatever plain little girls do, but don’t make me suffer your presence any more than I have to.”

He left you there, frozen in your spot as his hurtful words sunk in. And that was it.

Unbeknownst to you, Hoseok was hiding in the shadows, had eavesdropped the whole thing. Two years younger, he was your other brother, and after witnessing Yoongi leave you in tears for demanding a crumb of mercy, he wished he was the only one.

✩ ✩ ✩

You were spending the night of your name day heartbroken, crying in your bed curled up in a ball.

It was true, what Yoongi claimed. You held a torch for him.

How could you not? He was older, dashing, handsome. You watched in awe as he trained in the courtyard, or flew around on his mighty dragon; blushed whenever his eyes landed on you—even if it was momentarily—or he mentioned you by name, or held your hand in public events.

Now, you weren’t stupid. It was clear he didn’t return your feelings... You had just hoped someday he might.

Were you from any other family, it’d be a blasphemous scandal, but intermarriage to keep the lineage pure was the norm for yours. Targaryens were said to be closer to the gods than to men, after all, so different rules applied.

Perhaps people thought that because you were dragonlords, could ride the magical creatures that helped your ancestors Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys conquer the Seven Kingdoms some hundred and twenty years ago. Perhaps they did because you looked like deities, with your silver hair and purple irises, and still spoke the language of old Valyria. Or perhaps it was because the future was shown to some members of your house through dreams.

It didn’t matter why. It wasn’t true, anyway. No goddess could be as pathetic as you, rejected by her own intended on her birthday.

Then amid your woe, someone knocked on the door of your chambers. Wiping your wet cheeks, you sat up. Who would bother you so late, past midnight? Part of you wished it was Yoongi bringing a sincere apology, but when you gave permission to enter, it was your other brother who came in with a lit candle in hand.

“Hoseok?”

He approached the bed shyly, almost embarrassed. You guessed why when he asked, “Can I sleep here with you tonight?”

Nodding, you made some space for him. “Had another nightmare?” It was your mother’s bed he usually climbed to, yours only when she had been called to your father’s. You didn’t mind it at all. Tonight, in fact, you were glad he’d cuddle up to you like a pup.

Hoseok placed the candle on your bedside table and lay beside you under the sheets, shaking his head. “I didn’t want you to be sad on your own. I heard what Yoongi said to you earlier…”

“Oh…” You were the embarrassed one now. “It’s fine. He’s always like that, so I know not to take it to heart. I’m not sad... but thank you for caring. You are sweet, brother.”

Setting aside the clear lie for a moment, Hoseok held in a sigh. Brother. Why did you never call Yoongi that?

“He doesn’t deserve it, you know?” he muttered, making you frown. “Your heart.”

Were your damned feelings common knowledge? It was supposed to be an ideal situation to fancy one’s betrothed, but if people learned it was one-sided, your humiliation would be twice.

“H-He doesn’t have it.”

“Stop lying, yes he does!” Hoseok was upset, but you couldn’t fathom why. What was it to him if you chose to keep your infatuation secret? Despite the mutual affection, you weren’t that close. He took a deep breath to regain composure, then said quietly with his purple eyes cast down, “It should be me that you were marrying.”

A chuckle escaped you. “What?”

“Yoongi is a cunt and a bully. He treats you like– Well, he mistreats you! Yet you still follow him around, hoping in vain that he’ll turn into a charming prince like those from the poems you read. I know I’m not one either…” he found the courage to look up and hold your hand under the sheets, and your smile disappeared, “but I would never be mean to you, Y/N. I’d be honoured to take you to wife.”

Afraid of rejection, Hoseok had promised himself to never reveal he was smitten by you. How could he meddle in the betrothal of his siblings? He’d learned to endure the nightmares in which you faced a lonely and miserable married life, but after seeing Yoongi make you cry, he couldn’t let you forgive him again, pretend nothing had happened.

You, in all honesty, were shocked. There hadn’t been a moment when you’d thought of Hoseok as anything other than a little boy. Although… that was exactly what Yoongi thought of you.

Had you been in love with the wrong brother all along?

It wasn’t something one could choose, sure, but Hoseok’s confession had felt like a slap back into reality. The Yoongi you loved and were loved by was fictional, the Hoseok who’d always been kind to you of flesh and blood—the same blood as you.

“I think that, like Aegon the Conqueror…” you took his hand in yours, “I’ll keep company with one sibling out of duty and with the other out of desire.”

An exhale of relief quickly turned into a blushing smile on Hoseok’s face, and you smiled too, pleased at the turn of events.

Your name day was ending on the loveliest note.

By the time you were seven and ten, you still hadn’t married Yoongi. And thank the gods for that.

Alliances were achieved through the means of marriage, and your father feared tying two of his children with a knot might mean two missed opportunities, so the wedding was indefinitely delayed. What worried you was that if your hand was given to some distant lord, you’d be forced to leave King’s Landing and in doing so, Hoseok.

As the years passed and you grew up, so did the love you bore each other.

He was the only person who made you lose track of time, so at ease did you feel when you were with him—which he made certain was constantly.

And when you weren’t together with smiles plastered on your faces, he was learning how to play songs on his harp to later recite to you, or training to win every joust and dedicate you his victory with a wreath of flowers; and you weaving him garments with threads of gold so everyone would envy his riches, or writing to travellers so they’d come to court and tell him about the world he so longed to explore on dragonback.

Hoseok had been knighted recently, and that being added to his fine looks made every girl at court drool for him. He payed attention to none. His heart was yours alone. The knighting had meant nothing for Yoongi, however, who mocked him for not yet having bonded with a dragon.

Whatever interest you’d once harboured for your older brother had sailed away, never to return. Now, you didn’t hesitate to send him to the seven hells whenever he hurled words of abuse at Hoseok. You’d then assure the latter that his worth wasn’t measured in whether or not he was a rider, and that he would get a dragon one day. In the mean time, he sat behind you on the saddle with his arms wrapped around your waist when you flew your own above the clouds.

But all that was during the day. At night, Hoseok had made a habit of slipping into your chambers.

Fortunately, he’d not suffered from nightmares in years, which led him to believe they weren’t premonitory dreams. So even if you were married to another, Hoseok could and would make you happy.

You’d spend hours talking, laughing, caressing each other, kissing... It was hard to hold back when all you wanted was for him to consume you like fire, but contrary to popular belief, Targaryens weren’t immune to the flames, so if you burned, you wouldn’t rise again. That is, if you fell pregnant and the affair was discovered, society would brand you as a whore for the rest of your life and beyond. Without doubt, history books would record such shameful conduct.

Besides, Yoongi wouldn’t take kindly to it. Not at all out of jealousy, but because the only aspect in which he cared about you was procreational. If he couldn’t be sure your children were his, he’d get rid of you once he became king. Of Hoseok too, knowing him. Fear of that demise was enough to scare you into stopping right before matters ever escalated.

That night, however, neither seemed able to stop.

Lying on your bed, Hoseok was devouring your lips with a hunger foreign to him. His kisses were usually chaste and slow, now wet and urgent, as if he was going to die the next day and wanted to make the best out of what time he had left.

His tongue didn’t tire of exploring yours, sliding across it, tasting it, producing the lewdest sound. The only instants he put it out of your mouth was to lick his lips and in turn coat yours with his saliva, eager to keep going, keep taking your breath away.

When your arms curled around his neck, Hoseok got the hint that you wanted his body against yours and readily obliged, drawing close enough to feel your chest rise and fall as you panted, and your heart race. His hand travelled from your cheek down to your neck, and he had to restrain the urge to choke you. How pretty you’d look with his hand around your throat… But no, he moved lower and cupped your breast. Hells, why were you still wearing clothes? He wanted to lick your nipples until they hardened. His cock was certainly already so.

To his delight, you moaned against his lips when his grip tightened, so he kept groping your breast, though careful not to near the edge of pain—the only of which you felt was in your core, uncomfortable enough to make you squirm.

Hoseok noticed, sneaked his knee between your thighs so his own would come to contact with your aching spot, and he began grinding, the friction making you pull away from the kiss to gasp. Only then did you realise how wet you were, juices likely dampening not only your nightgown, but your brother’s also.

“Hoseok…”

Shaky breath warm against your skin, he whispered in your ear, “I know, darling one. It feels good, hm? I’ll give you just what you need…” He next kissed your neck, sucked on it as he had your tongue. The feeling was so lovely that you minded not he would mark you. You minded not a single thing in the world, actually. “Gods, Y/N… I want to kiss you between your legs too...”

It took a few seconds, but the spell did break.

You pulled Hoseok away. “How do you know that is a thing that is done?”

This was the same boy who, some weeks past, was convinced running his fingers through a girl’s locks brought her pleasure, so there was a hint of sudden fear in the purple of his eyes. That he’d been caught.  “I was told by Lord Taehyung. He is married, as you know.”

At once, you got up, hugged yourself. Hoseok sank his elbows on the bed, and with his gaze followed you pace around nervously. “Nobody knows you better than I. Do you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

“I’m not!”

Anyone would call you a fool, tell you that you should’ve seen it coming, that possessing a man’s heart was no assurance he wouldn’t stray from fidelity. But Hoseok had proved to be different… Was it your fault, then, because you’d failed to satisfy his needs?

“Who is she?”

Hoseok dropped his head on the pillow with a deep sigh, then laboriously sat up. “It was in a brothel.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, tears in your eyes. “You went to a brothel…”

“It’s not what you think.” Hoseok moved to the edge of the bed, but you took a step back, so he knew to remain sat. “Yoongi dragged me there. He said it was time I became a man. I wanted to leave, but he wouldn’t let me, made me at least watch... I touched nobody and nobody touched me, I swear, Y/N. The only good thing I take from it is that I learned some ways in which to please you.”

You stared at him in silence for a while. He was telling the truth, but then, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want Yoongi to upset you again.” He looked down, voice sinking into a whisper as he confessed, “And it is a hard claim to defend… I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”

“My love, I believe you.” Having exhaled the air from your lungs that anguish had been withholding, you sat beside Hoseok and held him in an embrace comforting for both. “Yoongi will pay for this. I promise you, someday he will.”

Your brother buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you caressed his silver hair. “I love you more than I hate him. If he’s to pay, let it be by another’s hand. Don’t let him come between us.”

“He won't. Ever”

Your father made up his mind when you reached the age of twenty.

In front of half the realm’s nobility at the great hall, you and Yoongi were dressed in traditional Valyrian robes, performing the rites of marriage.

Harder than he should’ve, the bastard sliced your lower lip with a sharp piece of dragonglass, then dug his thumb in the small wound and smeared its blood on your forehead, tracing the shape of a rune. You did the same to him. Next, each cut into your respective palms and joined them over a goblet while a priest explained that the mixing of blood signified becoming one with the other. You had to suppress a gag when made to take a sip, for it was plausible Yoongi’s blood was all kinds of diseased.

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife.”

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband.”

In the crowd, Hoseok turned his head away. He had not wanted to attend the ceremony—in fairness, neither had you or Yoongi—but your parents forced him. They were about the only people who could make him do anything anymore.

Ever since he’d bonded with the world’s oldest and fiercest dragon, nobody dared fuck with him, not even his older brother. That was why, when he caught some lords watching him turn away from the kiss, they immediately looked down in fear. Unfortunately, the rumours about the affair you were having with him being whispered at court weren’t so easily scared away, and you’d had to spend less time together in public so as not to spur them on.

Above the clouds, though, there were no witnesses.

That’s where Hoseok’s mind was during the feast, up in the sky.

You looked so beautiful in that white dress, with your soft, silver hair tied in a long braid that fell down your back, but he couldn’t stand seeing you sat at the end of the table next to Yoongi, who’d caused you both so much pain; kept bouncing his leg, playing with his food, giving curt answers to anyone who spoke to him… because the worst was yet to come.

Once the sun disappeared below the horizon, you’d be escorted to Yoongi’s chambers and deflowered.

He would get to be inside you.

Would he hurt you? Or would he… satisfy you? It was horrible, but Hoseok genuinely didn’t know which was worse. What kept him from deciding was the lively song that the musicians started playing, and everyone rushing to dance.

Your mother gave Yoongi a look at which he rolled his eyes. Dance with your bride, it commanded. Grudgingly, he held out a hand to you, who turned to your father with a pleading expression only to receive the same look. Dance with your groom. So with a sigh, you took Yoongi’s hand and followed him to the centre of the hall.

And Hoseok had to watch you dance with him just as your dragons had danced together in the air.

That was it for him. He quickly excused himself to your parents on the account of a headache and stormed off, pushing through the people who’d flocked to act as an audience to those dancing. He was about to go up the small steps leading to the entrance when someone grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Please, don’t go. I need you close.”

How you’d slipped out of the dance floor unnoticed, Hoseok didn’t know, but still, he freed himself from your grasp carefully so as not to hurt you, and whispered, “I can’t see you with him.”

“He means less than nothing to me, my love. And I to him.”

Hoseok knew that. Yet when he glanced down at the cut on your lip, he was reminded of the fact that you’d become of one flesh with another in such an intimate ceremony. It made his blood boil.

“I can’t take it, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

He walked away and left you there, having to face the rest of the day without him. Could you blame him, though? You’d react the same way, would’ve left ages ago... It was the gods whom you damned for making Yoongi the older brother.

✩ ✩ ✩

Past midnight, Hoseok couldn’t sleep.

It must’ve been what, a quarter since the bedding had begun? He wondered if you were still at it, plaguing flashes crossing his mind of your bare body under Yoongi’s. Were you moaning? Gripping the sheets? Begging for him to go harder? Disgusting. He couldn’t shake them away, every time he tossed and turned a new one surfacing among his thoughts. He was going to resort to pulling his hair to make them stop when his chambers’ door opened.

Hoseok sat up without delay, reaching for the blade under his pillow, but from the shadows it was you who emerged.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

There was some light, at least, that of the moon entering through the window, and it made something you carried shine. Hoseok got up from the bed and walked over, once he was close discerning the piece of dragonglass from the wedding in your hand.

“I’m right where I belong,” you declared. “With you.”

“It’s your wedding night. What of your husband?”

“He drowned in his wine cup at dinner. The second he lay on his bed, he was snoring… All the better.”

Hoseok pressed his lips together and sighed through his nose. “If it’s not tonight, it’ll be tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow, I’ll already be yours.” You raised the dragonglass and once more cut into your lip. It hurt as much as earlier, but this time you did it willingly. Hoseok frowned when you placed the piece on his lip. “I may be married to our brother by law, but I’m marrying you for love.”

He flinched at the cut. “But this means nothing to the world.”

“It does to us. And not only that, don’t you understand? After tonight, whatever children I have will be assumed to be Yoongi’s. The risk keeping our bodies apart is gone.” You drew the rune on Hoseok’s forehead with his blood, and on board, he did the same to you. “A goblet?” He ran to get one from his bedside table, gulped the wine inside it as he returned to your side. Soon, it was filled with the blood of both, emptied when each drank from it. “Targaryens are dragons, Hoseok. Fire made flesh. And once a dragon bonds with a rider, it is to the death. I bonded with you long ago.”

The moonlight made the tears forming in Hoseok’s eyes shine just as it had the dragonglass.

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife.”

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husb–”

You hadn’t finished saying it when Hoseok smacked his lips on yours, impatient to make you his, make up for too many years of restraint[PG1] .

Neither therefore wasted a breath in taking off the other’s nightgown, and Hoseok swallowed hard when he saw your naked body for the first time since infancy, you almost feeling faint at the sight of his... Your brother was clearly a man grown now and as a woman, you couldn’t keep away any longer.

He let you drag him to the bed and have him lie over you, knees and elbows sunk at your sides, but did nothing more than admire your features with half-lidded eyes as if he didn’t share your hunger anymore. You tried to kiss him again, and he even pulled back.

“Lykirī,” he murmured in High Valyrian as a rider did to their dragon.

Be calm.

Much as he struggled to resist your tempting, Hoseok knew it’d be over sooner than hoped for if you lost yourselves to lust so early.

He placed a finger under your chin and raised it. “Dohaerās.”

Serve me.

Oh, he needn’t ask twice. Your fingers skimmed across his back and waist until reaching his hard erection, then curled around it to move up and down painfully slowly, at which Hoseok gulped. In part, you wanted him to wrap his own hand around your throat and order you to stop teasing, behave, but the excitement to please him betrayed your mischief.

Eyes locked with yours, a scorching sensation was building up in his core that spread through his body like wildfire the tighter you gripped, the faster you pumped, and he wanted to let go so badly… But the reward of coming inside you was a great incentive to find a distraction to focus on until then, such as his erratic breathing.

You felt it on your skin, hot like a dragon’s. It mingled with yours and scented the air with wine and desire, and seeing the latter reflected on your eyes made Hoseok’s tensed arms begin to shake out of weakness. You quickly caught up on it and so sat up, forcing him to do the same.

“Y/N, what–”

“Sh, my love…”

Hoseok didn’t know what you were up to until you bent over and took him in your mouth, sucking hard as your head bobbed up and down his length. Despite the stinging of your cut, you found yourself revelling in the feeling of his throbbing gliding against your lips and tongue, becoming wet enough to ease right between your legs.

“Ah, just like that…” Hoseok wondered if you could tell he was only just quelling the urge to pin your wrists over your head and pound you until sunrise, until it hurt for both—you could. It made you want to try harder to provoke him. At least, you were satisfied he was unable to contain the groan that followed when you took all of him in, the tip of his cock hitting against your throat a few times until you had to pull it out to cough. “Gods, Y/N…”

You laughed, rather embarrassed, “Gainly, I know…”

Hoseok smiled before he cupped your cheeks and led your lips coated with saliva and blood still to his. All flushed, you’d never looked prettier. “As I want you.”

The way he looked at you, so devotedly and without judgement, you felt no shame whispering in his ear, “How else do you want me?”

You could’ve sworn you caught Hoseok’s pupils engulf the purple of his irises as a nervous, low chuckle escaped him. It was always fun to entice him. He whispered back, “Lie on your back and spread your legs.”

You followed his command with eagerness, welcomed the pain in your wound when he leaned in to kiss you deeply, and your delight in turn sweetened his blood, driving you to suck on his lip. He did want to be consumed by you in any way, but a hiss forced him to pull away. The two of you couldn’t help but laugh, yet the butterflies returned with the first kiss of the trail that Hoseok began leaving all the way from your neck to your thighs, each marked with blood on your skin.

His breath hit against your maidenhood the second he hovered over it, making you shiver with anticipation, and seeing this he decided against torturing you any longer. While his hands groped your breasts as he knew you liked, Hoseok’s tongue delved between your wet folds until reaching your clit and licking it side to side without pause, occasionally straying downwards again to tease your entrance with his tip. You could barely keep still, squirming and bucking your hips into Hoseok’s face, moaning from behind the teeth sank like fangs into your bottom lip. He’d dreamed of making a feast out of your cunt for years, and now that he was finally tasting your juices, your pleasure, he realised the wait had been worth it.

“Keligon daor, valonqar…” he heard amongst your pants.

Don’t stop, brother.

But he was going to. He knew you needed more, and it was time he gave it to you.

The pressure of Hoseok’s tongue was straight away missed, but the tip of his cock replaced it after he’d got closer to kiss you again. It rubbed on your clit as a consequence of stroking himself, and with an exhale your head dropped on the pillow, your eyes closing.

Hoseok took the chance to gently push his erection through your entrance, earning a gasp he interrupted with a kiss. You would’ve smacked him for taking you off guard had he not started rolling his hips like that, moving in and out of you slowly so you could get used to the stretch. There had been a slight stinging but now it felt so nice that suddenly, all your brain could think of doing was wrapping your arms and legs around him to pull him closer.

“You want me deeper?” he whispered before nibbling on your earlobe. You had not the strength to answer, only whimper, but Hoseok understood. And burying himself inside you all the way in a few times, with the scant moonlight shimmering on his blood, sweat, and purple irises, you’d never been so attracted to him. “You’re so tight, I can’t believe it…”

“Hoseok… More, please,” you begged, and it was an order he was keen to obey.

Intertwining your hands, he started pounding you hard enough to send you into a daze similar to the one wine would heave you to, only, overflowing with desire. Hoseok grunted in the crook of your neck with every thrust and you moaned loudly in return, not caring whether all of King’s Landing would hear. There was no need to hold back anymore, not now that you were both so desperate to reach your high.

Soon enough, your walls did indeed begin to clench around Hoseok’s cock, which forced him to fuck you so fast that tears of pleasure formed in your eyes and you had to hold your breath as a heavenly sensation engulfed you whole. You didn’t return to your earthly body until Hoseok finished too, his warm seed filling you.

Afterwards, he kissed you softly and with your eyes closed, both remained still for a while.

“I love you, Y/N.” His tone told you that there should be no doubt of it, that he was there and not going anywhere. The corners of your lips curled into a smile.

“I love you too.”

You kissed his nose, then opened your eyes to see Hoseok already looking back at you, like nothing else in the world mattered more. His gaze wandered about your face, then fell on your mouth. He scoffed, “The court will be suspicious when they see my lip is sliced also.”

“Then let me kiss it better, brother.”

[mrsometimes11]

Replaying DQ9, just got to Swinedimples, for the first time it's occurred to be how weird this place is.

Leaving aside the Harry Potter/Hogwarts reference that's aged terribly (but I think we can forgive a game from 2010 for not being able to forsee the future), the premise is bizarre.

Sure, it is a school, even fantasy worlds need schools, but why would you build a school in the middle of a frozen wasteland half a continent away from the nearest other settlement. We are told that the founder had a vision, that's cool lore and all, but how did he succeed?

Like seriously, why would you send your kid to a place like this? Do you just wake up one day and think, y'know what I really hate my child, I'm going to send them to a school in the Arctic Circle, on the other side of the world (okay Ivor's dad might do that). But somehow enough people decided that was a good idea, and the school survived and is intensely problematic.

As stated this school is in the middle of nowhere, the neighbours include a few hermits (including one guy who named the surrounding country after himself, and Santa) and, half a continent away, a small village belonging to a nomadic tribe, there aren't any local Kings or Mayors, as is normal for DQ locations, rather the only sort of leader is the Headmaster, and the school is basically his personal fiefdom. There's no other government, no supervising education authority, just one school teacher given the powers of a monarch, and you'd better hope he's a good guy, because that is a recipe for disaster.

Again, how much do you have to hate your kid to send them here? Not only are they going to school miles from home in a frozen wasteland, but you're trusting their wellbeing entirely to a stranger with no oversight.

And oh yeah, I said you'd better hope the headmaster is a good guy...

spoiler alert

He is not a good guy. A bunch of students go missing, kidnapped by a ghost as it transpires, and what does the headmaster and defacto king do? Does he send the remaining students home and call in his world's equivalent of the police? No, he keeps the students there, apparently not telling their parents (not that it'd do much good, as established their parents hate them), and hires a private detective with no ties to official authorities, a private detective who's identity he doesn't even verify, he assumes that the player and the thugs traveling with them are the detective and runs with it, before placing them amongst the students and letting them sleep in the students' dormitory. This is a safeguarding nightmare...

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 46 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 45.1 | lesson 45.2 | lesson 47

i'll probaboy be moving my baby sister into college when this queues up 🥲 sob sob

slight lesson 76 spoilers

we love to see more of a lighthearted lesson

ah yes, siblings 🫶🏽 levi is me, i am levi

i also love the fact that luci, mams, levi, and simeon are all working together to help mammon

it's clear how much they all adore him even if they're shitheads sometimes (read: most of the time)

anyone else having war flashbacks to cocytus? no? just me? kay.

see now they're just making up words bc what are we talking about 😭 also love how they didn't bother to make a 2D CG picture for it bc it's never gonna be mentioned in another lesson after this point

...i'd have to kms

imagine every step you take leads to a blood curdling scream...everybody's dying idc

"dear, sweet henry 1.0" my ASS

homeboy didn't even remember you when y'all were trapped in that made and had to get charmed by asmo 😭

...unless that was his way of telling levi to make new friends, just like the way he left levi in the anime bc levi had no friends outside of henry

but i also wanna see the full extent of mammon's power 🧍🏾 the devs need to stop giving us cut scenes every time my man steps up to fight a monster

that's hilarious actually

imagine some lower level demon actually ended up getting eaten bc they couldn't beat the monsters and the "research" was all in vain

leave it to me to read too far into things 🤞🏽

example x of mammon being lucifer's favorite and most trusted brother

regardless of how dumb mammon thinks a task is, he'll do his best to get it done as perfectly as possible if it means keeping up a good image for lucifer or making lucifer happy. lucifer knows this despite rarely, if ever, admitting it to himself, mammon, or anyone else, and that's why he trusts mammon with serious shit when the situation calls for it

granted, the speech mammon is giving probably wasn't orchestrated by lucifer, but the way it goes still reflects on him and diavolo, and mammon knows better than to make his big brother and the future demon king look bad in front of who knows how many people

MAMMON SIMPS HOW WE FEELING????

they absolutely would've fucked backstage if he wasn't up next for his speech /srs

they fucked in the back of class and they'd do it again BOP BOP

also mammon's speech being "get off your lazy asses and go touch grass" was easily the best idol about this lesson. 10/10 writing

about the first screenshot, why is nobody in-game verbally commenting on simeon wearing his angelic clothes ??? didn't he stop wearing them as soon as he fell from grace in the og timeline ?????

or maybe this is a result of too many time soup shenanigans. maybe his body can't tell if he's human or still an angel

but it's clear that everyone's noticed something's off with simeon even if they haven't said anything to him verbally, which is why luke was so hellbent on mc asking simeon if he was okay. but nobody's outright saying anything bc this mf will deny any and every concern thrown at him with a smile on his face. he won't even tell mc what's going on, so lucifer had to step in

ending the hard bonus chapter like this was VILE but in the best way possible

[yappacadaver]

All my notes from the Q+A, organized by topic

Going as in depth here as my notes allow, was doing this at work so I may have missed some things. This will be long. but here’s the gist of it below 👇

Companions

Switch from 4 person squad to 3 person squad

For the sake of combat gameplay, 3 seemed to be the right fit

Was described as more “immersive” and “intimate”

The team wanted to “spotlight” these characters and give them more presence

Romances and relationships

All seven companions will be romanceable by any Rook

All are pansexual, none are asexual

Companions will romance each other if Rook doesn’t

Confirmed Harding/Taash as a possible companion romance

Companions may “temporarily leave” based on Rook’s decisions but will still “always fight for Thedas” as “this is the greatest threat we’ve seen”

Heavily teased permadeath

When asked abt the possibility of a Manfred romance: “not THAT skeleton, but not NO skeletons”

Misc Companion/Npc info

Inky will be coming back, as confirmed before

Devs excited for the “authenticity” of our new companions, and the fact that they “feel like dear friends”

Companions’ looks will be somewhat customizable, like in DA2 where their fit could change depending on story beats, but with a wider range of choices

These will be the “deepest companion arcs we’ve ever done”

Combat

Mechanics

The combat will be “quite tactical” with more opportunities for strategy in higher difficulty settings

A “robust difficulty system”

Tactical mode will not be overhead, but will be a targeting system as shown in the demo

Tactical mode will be used in and out of combat

Emphasis on synergies and combos

Companions will be controlled via issuing “commands”

Rook’s death/downed status will cause a save to reload unless one of your companions has learned the revive spell

Healing magic is coming back

Class specifics

Some specializations for mages were mentioned including Necromancy, “Combat Mage” which promised more close quarters fighting, and “something more elemental”

Dual wielding is coming back but is once again for rogues only, not warriors

Warriors will have a choice of ‘sword and board’ or two-handed

Cone of Cold and Fireball are getting revamped versions, namely Frost Nova and Meteor

Character creation

Appearance

Everyone who spoke about the character creator was very excited to mention how robust it is

Extra attention paid to hair styles and physics

“Magnificent” dwarf beards

More tattoo variations for different cultures

Body sliders and a wide range of skin tones

The character creator will be shown off in more depth in the future before launch (👀)

Roleplaying and story

Rook will be from one of six factions, that will combine with a "lineage" to provide context for our character

There will be no playable origins, but we will be given opportunities to define the character through play

This includes defining emotional reactions to the mentioned events of Rook's background and lineage

Rook can be nonbinary, with He/She/They pronoun options

Crafting will, while revamped, make a return. You will be able to "improve and customize" your character's look

Somehow, they were not able to reveal more about crafting because it gets into spoiler territory ("a mysterious entity helps you")

The Keep will not be coming back, instead you will be able to define your choices from previous games through the character creator in a "Last time on Dragon Age" type of recap

Gameplay

Locations

The game begins in Minrathous, as confirmed by the gameplay teaser, but doesn't stay there

Rook will be visiting plenty of new locations previously unseen in gameplay such as Arlathan forest (where there will apparently be many "fade touched" enemies)

Kal Sharok was mentioned, with no confirmation that we would actively go there in-game, but they promised to "show what they can" of this location

We will have a hub (like skyhold/haven) called The Lighthouse

While war table missions won't be making a comeback, the lighthouse will have it's own gameplay functions

Locations will change based on player actions

More brand new locations will be "drip-fed" to us in references, like Tevinter was in dao

No more mounts, as locations are trimmed down and more linear we will not need them

Dialogue

Tone/Emotion/Choice wheels are coming back

Emphasis on making clear what Rook will be saying/choosing (hopefully no more mishaps a la "glass him")

Wanted "choices to be explicitly clear, consequences less so"

Dev notes

What everyone on the team is excited for

Character creator got huge shoutout

Companions were also hyped (story arcs feel deep and authentic, characters react to you in a meaningful way)

Art team received a big shoutout as well, with this being their "best attempt yet" at visual storytelling (not just codex entries and conversations)

Veilguard is meant to combine "familiarity and novelty" with the team saying it should feel like coming home to longtime fans, and also be something fresh for new players

Team Promises

A focus on delivering a complete single-player experience (no microtransactions, no subscription, no live service)

More VA information and teasers in the future pre-launch

More information on pre-orders soon

Side quests will be "handcrafted" and "support the narrative" ie no more collecting shards, no more getting locations locked behind power mechanics

Accessibility features were glossed over, but there was some talk of saving this info for launch (???)

Random bits

We will have many opportunities to hug and pet Assan the griffon

Elves went bald after living a millennium, this is why solas is an egg

The inquisitor will be heavily tied to solas' story and will appear in the flesh

The decision of who was left behind in the fade will not be important to Veilguard, but was heavily implied to be relevant in the future (not in this game but...)

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 10

i can't abandon them.

we don't sacrifice one life for the greater good if we don't have to.

you’re obviously hiding something from me, and it’s making me feel crazy.

i was sober enough to know better.

i’m sorry if i was shitty earlier today.

whenever i’m happy, everyone sounds the alarm.

the more people i cut out, the quieter my life got.

i love you, but i don’t have time for this.

i’ve never felt this helpless in my life.

you asked me before if i was happy, and i realized, i’m not. i’m not happy.

we both know if you’re shopping for an affair, i’m the first call you’d make.

you two are a powder keg ready to explode. 

i guess i’m scared that i don’t have what it takes to not fuck this up. 

you could do this without me.

it’s about winning. and i do. a lot.

when i’m with you, i want a future.

are you asking me to choose between you and my family?

i believe in solving problems. not whining about them.

what’s more important? your dreams or your pride? you only get one.

you don’t suck as much as most people.

your purpose is to live for you.

okay, that move? putting up walls? that used to be my move.

i think you’re just addicted to the drama of being miserable.

spoiler alert. life is meaningless.

wow, we really are bad people to date.

if you let me save your life, you’d be saving mine.

i’m an expert on self punishment.

it is me. i am standing with you. just please let me in.

just leave me alone with my humiliation.

“i’ll be happy when we can be together,” that’s what i always told myself. but what if we can’t be?

what if all we have is now?

you know more than anyone that the game isn’t over until it’s over.

you’re not the worst thing you’ve ever done.

i wouldn’t even want to do it without you. you make me better at this.

you love taking care of people.

i was worried. i came to check in on you. is that allowed?

don’t you dare ignore me. i have feelings!

if you’re always a disappointment, then it’s impossible to disappoint. 

what if i just, like, completely melt? what if i just fuck up and fail?

do i have time to go outside and scream “fuck”?

i can take what comes next.

contrary to popular belief, you’re not a total waste of space.

you have a future. don’t throw it away.  

every single cell in your body wants to blow things up and see what happens, that's what you are.

chivalry may be dead, but i didn’t kill it.

nothing is final. not even death.

that’s your family portrait, and you’re not in it.

life will crush your dreams and destroy your spirit.

why do i always let my heart get in the way of my happiness?

blowing up relationships seemed easier than having to lose people over and over again.

i had a dream. i was by your side, and it felt like we were changing the world.

i have to know what something is to believe in it.

there’s no one i’d rather walk through the fire with than you.

you think it’s the end? or the beginning? 

praying helps with some things. others, you have to take into your own hands.

i need us to be “us” again.

don’t think about what could go wrong. think about what could go right.

i’m just seeing things differently now.

i’ve done a terrible job of loving you when you’re in trouble.

you deserve the room to screw up.

i spent so much time trying not to be who i was, i don’t even know who i am.

you’re not okay. you’re stubborn.

i should have known better. i should have been better.

this place, it’s not you. it’s who you had to be to get to what’s next.

risking your life comes easy to your crazy ass.

i guess i’m just your fantasy.

you look like hell spit you out.

careful. i’ve had enough people coming for me today.

you look like shit.

sometimes we gotta let the people we love figure out their problems their own way.

it doesn’t make you any stronger going through this alone.

just be patient with me.

you’re something else. when you believe in something, nothing’s gonna change your mind.

don’t let love make you out to be a fool. leave before you’re left.

nostalgia’s got me in its vice.

what’s left of your soul will melt your poisonous heart.

i came to save your life. i wasn’t about to let you die a hero.

i’m barely living.

yeah. our timing is shit.

do you want chaos?

i’m sorry you’re afraid of being alone.

why should i trust you today, when things are shit, if i couldn’t trust you yesterday?

your now is not your forever.