#and i hate it so much because i should just study but its eating at me having to live up to what everyone thinks i can do

[sleepless-crows]

.

[blitzyn]

relax

alhaitham x m!reader

Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo

a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read

merry christmas and happy holidays!!

To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.

And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.

You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.

Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.

Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.

"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."

He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.

"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."

"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."

"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."

He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."

You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.

"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."

But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."

"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.

Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."

He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.

"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.

"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.

"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."

He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.

You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.

You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.

He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.

It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.

Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.

"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."

"But that doesn't—"

He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"

He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."

"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.

"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."

You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.

"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.

"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"

You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.

Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.

He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.

He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."

You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.

Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.

You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.

"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?

Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.

You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.

“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.

You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.

You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.

He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.

Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.

“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”

“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.

“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.

“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.

“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.

“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.

You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.

“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.

"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.

"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.

"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."

You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."

He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.

The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.

"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.

"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.

His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."

[ms-demeanor]

Going off that post about nutrition and science, I'd love to hear what you think of the 5:2 diet/The Fast 800 and its creator, Dr. Michael Mosley. For context: in order to get an NHS-funded breast reduction (it's a gender thing, but also just a general quality-of-life thing), I need to be a certain BMI, so I've been referred to a weight management clinic. The lady I've been seeing initially just put me on a low-carb diet (130g or less of carbs per day, with an aside from her about how bullshit Keto and BMI limits for treatment are), but now she's said that, if I wanted to speed up the weight loss, I should include the 5:2 diet: 5 days in a week where I eat "normally", and 2 fast days in which I restrict myself to 800kcals. I did a little looking into it myself, and found that 5:2 - which I HAD heard about before - is now being sold as part of "The Fast 800", with Dr. Mosley being the creator of it. I was shocked by that, because I was already a fan of Dr. Mosley's work (he has a podcast called "Just One Thing" that I really liked, and thought contained reasonable-sounding advice), and yet having a diet plan that he's clearly making money off of does immediately make me feel suspicious. I've borrowed his "The Fast 800" book from the library, both to find out more about the diet I've been put on and to see if it's at all backed by evidence, and he does cite a bunch of scientific studies which seem to back up his ideas, but I don't know how valid they are, and I don't just want to accept them at face-value (especially since he's a "we got fat completely wrong in the 80s, therefore we should eat a Mediterranean diet!" types). Obviously I'll go with what my weight management lady suggests, since she's obviously more qualified to talk about it than I am, but I am curious to know what you think, and whether I'm right to be distrustful of all of this.

I am, generally speaking, against any diet for rapid weight loss. They're not sustainable so people gain the weight back (often with more weight getting added on).

There have also recently been findings that suggest that BMI cutoffs for top surgery are detrimental to patients as patients in higher BMI categories are more likely to have minor complications like UTIs or to be readmitted, but are not likely to have major complications or be at risk of significant harm from having top surgery. I don't know if anybody will listen if you bring up that study, and I know that GCS is fraught in many places for many reasons.

I'm also just.

I'm so mad. I'm so fucking mad! I'm so mad about this!

One of my best friends is a guy who was pressured into a pattern of disordered eating and unhealthy exercise in order to qualify for top surgery; since then he has not been able to eat in a healthy way and has struggled with alternating between exercising to the point of harm and other destructive behaviors that make him unhappy and unsafe. And he didn't need that. He didn't need any of that! He needed a very safe surgery that had perhaps a slightly higher risk of minor complications at his size and instead he got top surgery and an eating disorder! I hate it! I'm so fucking mad about it!

Also as near as I can tell Michael Mosley qualified as a psychiatrist in the 90s, spent very little time working as a psychiatrist, and then became a media personality. From what is visible on his website and every biography I've found for him he apparently doesn't have any background in nutrition beyond whatever is standard for someone in medical school (which is NOT MUCH).

Hey I just looked at his website and this is straight-up fucked up.

Anybody recommending an 800 calorie a day diet for 2-12 weeks in a context that is not heavily medically supervised can fucking choke. That is *ridiculously* dangerous and the website says that this can improve insulin resistance but there are a shitload of studies about people on crash diets like this *developing* insulin resistance (oh hey like my friend who became prediabetic after his rapid significant weight loss).

Also in regard to the studies he cites on the website, the "two years later patients are still going strong in their diabetes improvements" it's really important to put shit like that in context

at 5 years 13% of the original intervention group were in remission from their type two diabetes; the average weight loss experienced by the intervention group as a whole was 6.1kg compared to 4.6kg in the control group. That's 1.5kg lower for the people who went through a twelve week medically supervised very low calorie diet compared. That's an average difference of 3.3 pounds between "starvation diet" and "no diet" for the Americans in the audience.

Yours is the second comment I've seen that has been leery of the Mediterranean diet, btw, and the Mediterranean diet is fine. It's very achievable and not super gimmicky and is based on very reasonable reassessments of fat, not the hardcore "you are fine to eat 100g of fat a day" kind of attitude that you get from the keto crew. There isn't really one Mediterranean diet and it certainly isn't low carb (which the bits from Mosely's website seem to indicate it is).

So, no, honestly I don't think much of Mosely and I'm very sorry you're in this situation, that sucks and I hate that they're refusing you treatment until you undergo an exceptionally difficult and potentially harmful weight loss excursion.

I know you're probably stuck with that and it's bullshit and I think it fucking sucks and unfortunately the medical advice you're likely to get is "eat in a significantly disordered manner at least until it is time for surgery" and it blows. That just fucking sucks.

If you're looking for rapid weight loss that you don't plan to sustain (and you shouldn't plan to sustain it, it won't stay off) you may want to look into body building forums for how they discuss cuts. It's still disordered eating and it's still not healthy, but at least they're effective and can tell you what supplements will keep you from becoming malnourished while you prepare for surgery. This is a terrible idea. I don't actually want to give this advice to anyone but bodybuilders are the exact kind of people who know how far and how fast they can push weight loss while having an awareness that it isn't really good for them and it won't stay off.

I cannot overstate enough how much I hate the thought that people are being encouraged to rapidly starve themselves in order to prepare to recover from surgery. I am so sorry and I'm so mad and

[bweeeb]

🎄Christmas collection

LONELINESS

THEODORE NOTT X READER

Part 1

Warnings: Angst, maybe too much drama, idk, use of Y/n for once here. Very short. Nothing too much. there will be a part two of this ok?

I hope this makes you sad like it made me while I wrote it.

* Theo might sound like an idiot here, but things get better I promise *

Summary: Christmas has always been your favorite time of year, but things are starting to go wrong this year.

The castle had never been as silent as it was that night. It wasn't surprising that the Slytherin common room was empty, or that the Great Hall was quieter than it had been all year, or that the snow-covered courtyards were devoid of any foolish students breaking a bone by jumping off a snow-covered stone. It was Christmas Eve, and the pitying glances of the teachers, and especially the smug looks directed at me, had kept me cooped up in the common room all week. I wasn't supposed to be here; I was supposed to be in Paris, or anywhere else, as long as he was holding my hand and pulling me along with him. Theo and I had made plans, but he'd simply vanished after hearing rumors that I was flirting with the Hufflepuff, Mason Mount. Since when is getting help with Potions class flirting? Anyway, Theo and I had argued, and the next morning, I'd waited for him, not having any idea he'd gone and left me here. I waited an entire day, wondering if maybe he'd just gone to buy some Christmas socks and those funny, tacky clothes we'd planned to wear on Christmas, but no, he'd just gone. He knew I had no one else, and yet he left me here on my first Christmas alone. It's not very nice when even the ghosts are talking to each other and making strange noises, and I haven't had a normal conversation with anyone in over 96 hours.

Sometimes I'd see a couple or two climbing the stairs, their faces lit up with joy at the peace the castle was exuding at this time of year. Sometimes I'd see students who were simply used to spending their Christmases alone, studying because their families didn't celebrate. But not me. My mom had always made sure that our Christmases were the most important event of the year. Dad would help me make cookies, eating them all before I could finish decorating them, while Mom played the piano. The fireplace was warm, and for three days, we'd sit on the fluffy white rug in front of it, a mug of hot chocolate in our hands and the tree lights twinkling as we played Christmas-themed guessing games. If I'd known that last year would be my last with them, I would have locked us in and stayed there forever.

I curled up further into the green leather sofa in the common room, watching the fire consume the logs. The common room was one of the coldest areas of the castle, and even though there weren't many windows, the cold wind seemed to dance through our hall. As stupid as it seemed to stay downstairs in this cold, my room was even colder, and the blankets I'd conjured with magic hadn't become warm enough. Mom had always told me that our magic was only as strong as our belief in the magic around us, so maybe that was why nothing was working very well. My pajamas weren't warm enough to keep me cozy, since my heavier winter robes were far away and had somehow gotten caught somewhere along the way, and even magic hadn't worked its magic.

Shivering against my own body, I snorted, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. The clock struck midnight, and a shaky sigh escaped my lips. I hated how ridiculous I looked now. The only group of three students passed by me. Even though it was late, the bedtime curfew on holidays was relaxed, so it wasn't unusual to see some of us out and about. They wished me a Merry Christmas and disappeared, leaving me there. Now that I figured hardly anyone else would show up, my tears streamed down my face like waterfalls as I buried my face in my arms, my knees drawn up to my chest.

Christmas wasn't supposed to be like this. At Christmas, there should be nothing but tears of joy, but it was so hard not to feel pain.

Somewhere between my crying and exhaustion, I fell asleep. I closed my eyes and no longer heard my sobs.

__________________________________________

Part two

[amphitriteswife]

Jay Jo dating hc’s

🚲 Just like with Shelly, Jay will seem uninterested and unimpressed at first. Often being either blunt or not responding. He would rather stay in his studies or ride his bike.

🚲 Unlike vinny, he is not a romantic. He would be straight and matter of factly. He doesn’t see a point in beating around the bush. If he likes you he will say it straight up, but not without contemplating and badly slept nights as well as a lot of advice from Dom and Minu. Maybe even Vinny to keep him down to earth.

🚲 If you are dating Jay you need a lot of patience. His parents are strict and would not approve of a relationship, especially his mother who thinks it will be a distraction and that Jay should focus on studies instead. This would cause things to be like a mood swing.

🚲 If Jay would once again have a fight with his mom or his mom telling him to not come back home for the night he would probably go to your place. He wouldn’t want to talk about it. He’d rather spent his doing something else than talk about his problems.

🚲 ‘babe i fell down the stairs today. It was really funny.’ ‘How’s that funny.’ ‘My friend asked me why i started lying down. Some ppl saw me fall.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘Babe you’re being dry again. Dryer than the desert. You need water.’ ‘Don’t pour water on me again please.’

🚲 he’s more of a listener. So if you yap a lot he wouldn’t mind. He listens and remembers very well. He is pretty dry with responses to he’ll let you do most of the talking, but if you give him a chance to also talk about his things he’ll get a little but flustered because he’ll feel like he’ll be put on the spot

🚲 He would let you ride his bike if you can ride one, if you can’t he’ll teach you. He’s a very stoic teacher, but he’ll make sure you don’t fall, he would hate to see you get hurt. He will let you ride his bike if you asks very nicely.

🚲 Sometimes he’ll cycle you home if he doesn’t have any tournaments or races. You can hop on behind and if you have school bag he’ll carry it for you. If you’re scared to go on the bike he doesn’t mind walking you home either. He’ll just walk with the bike in his hands.

🚲 He would probably like study dates a lot, it means he can spend time with you and do his studies. Maybe the two of you can help each other in different subjects and getting to know each other’s interests along with it.

🚲 ‘what would you do if you caught me eating bugs?’ ‘Why would you eat bugs?’ ‘I don’t know, but if i did. Would you break up with me?’ ‘Probably. I will not be with a bug muncher.’

🚲 If he’s staying over at your place, expect that he assumes its just a sleep over. It’s quite literally too. He’ll be in bed on time and sleeping. Even if he wants to be ‘rebellious’ it’s in his mind and soul that he sleeps on time and gets enough rest.

🚲 If he reads any good books he’ll recommend them to you so that he has someone to discuss the book with, especially if he has to read the book for school. That way he can prepare for the test and bond with you.

🚲 He would want you to get along with his friends. Minu and Dom aren’t super difficult to get along with and would probably tease Jay for having a girlfriend since he was so ‘uninterested’ in girls. Vinny wouldn’t really care and Yuna and Mia would get along with you very well , perhaps even make you their trio

🚲 if you’re a foreigner he’ll guide you trough some basic Korean things like the food, clothes, manners, language. Anything you want. In return he would like to know about your home country and culture as well. He likes the fact that the two of you are so different yet can like each for that same reason at the same time

🚲 Jay actually doesn’t talk a lot in general, so it also means he doesn’t talk much about himself. This means that most of the things he likes or dislikes can be noticed by his expression or body language. If you for example pick up that he’s uncomfortable and help him in the situation it will make him smile a bit out of graduate for you. He isn’t used to others picking up on his demeanor, especially since he’s considered a cold person

🚲 ‘jay! Are you available today?’ ‘Only until 7. Then i have to be home and study.’ ‘Didn’t you leave your mom’s house again?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Where will you stay.’ ‘With you.’ ‘Oh? Well we can invite Dom and Minu too! Maybe even Vinny. Do you think he’ll come?’ ‘If you have food then probably yes.’

That’s all yall (I’m still not finished reading)

[knight-dwx-09]

First Player

1. New Admin

After hours of thinking, Jaune was debating between Trivia Vanilla, Pyrrha Nikos, and Ruby Rose. Why those three? To be honest, he just chose random since the floating words won’t help him at all. And finally, he had chosen one.

Jaune: Okay, first option have never failed me before so I choose Ruby Rose.

[Picking Ruby Rose]

[Waiting for the user to reply…]

The only thing Jaune could do at that moment was sitting on his bed and wait when he noticed from the window that it was already dark.

Jaune: Hmmm, should I go to sleep? I don’t even know if this person is awake or not.

[Congratulations]

[Player: “Ruby Rose” had accepted to become your first Player]

Jaune: YES!

A blue screen appeared with a name in front of him, giving some detail to the person he chose.

Name: Ruby Rose

Title: Red Riding Hood

Gender: Female

Age: 4

Race: Human (Silver-Eyed Warrior)

Level: 5

HP: 250

MP: (Locked)

AP: (Locked)

STR: 6

VIT: 3

DEX: 13

INT: 9

WIS: 7

CHA: 10

LUK: 120

Jaune: Oh wow, she is really young. I wonder how she react to a blue screen show up in her face, asking her to become a player.

As he read the detail of her information, he saw something that catch his eyes.

Jaune: Silver-eyed warrior? What is that?

[System level is too low to provide the answer]

Jaune: Come on! Aren’t you supposed to help me to become a hero?

[System could only help the Developer within its authority at the moment. Trying to give aids beyond of the current capability are impossible]

Jaune: Fine… but can you at least call me Jaune instead of Developer?

[Of course Jaune]

He smiled a bit after it listen to his request as he continue reading Ruby Rose’s information. he know what the number and stat represent, he didn’t being called a gamer master by her family for nothing.

Jaune: Wait, if I can see her stat, could I see my?

[Correct]

Jaune: Then I want to see it.

A screen with his name materialize in the thin air.

Name: Jaune Arc

Title: Coward Hero (Jaune: Hey!), The Admin

Age: 7

Race: Human

HP: 520

MP: 100

AP: 1700

STR: 23

VIT: 30

DEX: 17

INT: 3 (Jaune: COME ON!)

WIS: 5

CHA: 5 (Jaune:… I hate you…)

LUK: 1 (Locked) (Jaune: *Sulking*)

[Point System: 47]

Jaune: why most of my stat are so low compared to Ruby?

[Because Jaune love to sleep through the class, read comic book in most of the free time, and have a very low-self esteem]

Jaune: No I don’t!

[…]

Jaune: It just my family and people around me are much better than me…

[…]

Jaune: And the class are so boring, why should I learn about math when I can use my brain to become a hero!

[…]

Jaune: Fine… I may have low self esteem and don’t like studied…

[Wisdom has increased by 1]

Jaune: Jerk

[Realizing one’s flaw is a great first step to reaching one’s desired]

Jaune: You are still a jerk

[System level up!]

Jaune: Huh? Already? Does that mean you could finally answer me some of my questions like what is a silver-eyed warrior?

[System level is too low to provide the answer]

Then something snap in him as he let out a loud scream the revert throughout the household of Arc.

Somewhere

A young rose in his beowolf onesie slam open her bedroom door with a loud noise, scaring Tai Xiao Long as he jumped in his chair.

Ruby: Dad! There’s blue screen floating in the air!

Tai head snap toward his second sweet daughter, Summer’s cookies in hand as he was about to eat it but stop like a deer caught in headlights.

Tai: Huh… Where?

Ruby: Right there! It is saying that I have become the first Gamer! It’s like the RPG game I player this morning!

Tai just stares at the empty air where Ruby was pointing for a moment, then to her sparkling eyes, and back to the cookies in his hold as Yang, in her pajamas, come out of her room while rubbing her tired eyes.

Tai: Just what did Summer put in this cookies?

[shalomniscient]

hihi sev! i adore ur work sm oml can i req an enemies to lovers with zoya? :D (pretty basic im sorry auahag)

but imagine, reader in a rival gang or maybe she’s a salva doctor. but either way they DESPISE each other. a heated battle or argument eventually blooms into sexual tension?? (i’m so bad at wording this i apologize)

OH ANON I HAVE IDEAS (or well. one idea specifically BUT I CAN WAFFLE) FOR THIS ONE 👀👀👀

what is this feeling? || zoya x reader

cw. petnames (princess), sexual tension (?)

notes. yeah this is based on that wicked song. also made this sft sorry anon 😔😔😔 also i went with salva doctor because if you were a rival gang leader, well. i think zoya would simply just kill you fhskskdjjs i hope this fits ur expectations anon

You always knew following your sister to Syndicate was going to be difficult. The people would always distrust you, and with good reason. Eastside has brought them nothing but pain and suffering, so why should they trust two doctors from there? For a while, SALVA was mostly empty, but soon enough, through word and action the unofficial hospital's reputation improved, and more and more people flocked to its doors—including gang members. Your sister had simply shrugged when you asked her about it.

"It's good that they're starting to trust us," she'd said over a bowl of instant noodles. "Even the gang members. At least, when they turn into Corruptors, I can use them to study Mania."

And that had been the end of that conversation. And she'd mostly been right about trust in SALVA spreading, though with one notable exception: the Commander of the Legion, Zoya. Ever since first showing up to the hospital, Zoya has never let herself be treated within SALVA. She lets her subordinates be treated, but avoids it herself. Which you wouldn't much care about, if she weren't so irritating.

She is, truly, insufferable. You'd rather deal with one of those Yagyu or Red Falcon pricks—at least they have the sense to shut up and follow your orders so you can treat them properly.

Zoya, on the other hand, simply refuses to even acknowledge the absolutely horrendous gash on her arm, as if it would simply disappear if she continues to act nonchalantly as she stands against the wall of the emergency room, a watchful eye on your nurses and assistants as they patch up her subordinates. She also has a particular habit of calling you everything but your title or your name.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale a long-suffering sigh. "Can you sit down so I can actually stitch you up?"

Zoya offers you a look from down her nose, and you hate how ridiculously tall she is. Really, what the hell did she eat growing up to become that absurdly tall?

"I'll pass, princess," she hums, and you grit your teeth.

"It's doctor," you snap. "And it wasn't a request."

Zoya rolls her eyes. "And I told you already, princess. I'm fine, I don't need your help."

"You are bleeding all over my ER walls, for fuck's sake."

"Tragic," the gang leader drawls, and you swear your jaw creaks from how hard you're clenching it. With a snarl, you spin on your heel and stomp towards a nearby tray of equipment, grab some gauze, saline, thread and a needle before marching right back. Zoya arches a brow, then makes a sharp hissing noise as you unceremoniously pour out the saline onto the gash on her arm.

"What the hell?" she growls, moving to step away from the wall, before you grab her wrist and her eyes narrow. She stills, but not in agreement. No, this is the stillness of a predator before it pounces on its prey. You swallow despite the thick atmosphere, and just your chin out, meeting her dangerous gaze with as much stubbornness as you can muster.

"I am going to treat you," you say firmly, "whether you like it or not."

You think Zoya might’ve killed you right then and there, were it not for the jovial laughter of some of her legionnaires. One of them, a large, burly man with two nurses trying to wrap his bicep with a bandage, places a hand on his knee and chuckles.

“The pipsqueak has fire to her, eh Boss?” he says, and your brow twitches. Are members of the Legion simply allergic to referring to people other than their Commander by their proper titles? “Just siddown and let her patch you up. It ain’t fair that we get to feel better while our Boss isn’t in tip-top shape, ain’t it fellas?”

The other legionnaires in the room yell their agreement, and you would’ve had a headache from the sheer disorder in your ER room right now, but finally seeing Zoya’s stone facade crack and the slightest hint of a genuine smile bloom across her face made it all well worth it. She crosses her arms, then sighs.

“Fine,” she acquiesces, then turns to you. “But make it quick, princess.”

You scoff. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on spending that much time on you either.”

Zoya snorts, then strides over to an empty hospital bed, and plops herself onto it. She braces her injured arm palm down on the bed, extending it so you can stitch it properly while you pull the privacy curtain around the bed. You chance a glance at her face while she’s focused on looking at her wound, and though she has an excellent stone face, you notice the slightest furrow in her brow—so the legendary Legion Commander can feel pain, after all.

You grab a stool and sit by the edge of the bed, then get to work. Zoya barely reacts beyond the slightest twitch of a muscle in her jaw as you continue cleaning the wound with saline. You can feel her gaze on you as you wipe the wound down with gauze, then start the first few stitches.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks, after a while. “Here, in Syndicate? This isn’t a place for pretty little things like you.”

Despite the harshness of the question, there is no malice in her voice. It is simply a question, one she’s right to ask. You don’t stop your stitching as you reply.

“I’m helping my sister.”

Zoya’s palm shifts on the bed, causing the muscles in her arm to flex. You pause, waiting for her to still again so you can stitch properly. “That’s all? So Syndicate’s a little family project to you?”

“Stop moving,” you growl. “And no, it isn’t. I’m helping my sister, but I’m also helping people like you who delight in making my life difficult.”

Zoya scoffs at that, fingers digging into the thin linen sheets of the bed. You can feel her gaze turn into a glare, but you don’t care. Zoya’s never liked you, anyway. She respects your sister—and yeah, you get that. Iron is just like what she’s named after. She’s solid, reliable, and won’t bend or break under intense pressure.

You’re… well, you’re just you.

You close your eyes and shake those thoughts away. Now is not the time.

“Syndicate deserves doctors who are here out of their own convictions,” Zoya sneers, her hand suddenly reaching to grab you by the collar of your white coat and pulling you close, “because at least then they won’t run at the first sign of trouble. Pretty little things like you who aren’t strong enough to blaze their own path should stay in Eastside.”

You meet her cold gaze with your own, your hand squeezing her wrist. It would do nothing to her, you know this, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to cower to her. She could kill you, but you won’t let her win.

“Am I going to have to pin you down, or are you finally going to behave?” you say, your voice frigid, icy compared to Zoya’s fire. And you see it flare in her eyes as she looks into your eyes, as if searching for something.

This close, you can truly look at her. And though you hate to admit it, she’s… attractive. A sharp jaw, defined cheekbones and that silky-looking silver hair that frames her sharp, wolfish eyes. Maybe under different circumstances, the rush of your heart in your chest might’ve been from butterflies and not pure loathing.

Then, of all things, Zoya’s eyes flick lower to your lips, and your breath stutters in your lungs. Her grip on your collar slackens, but for some reason, you don’t draw back—you can feel her warm breath fanning across your lips, and she leans closer, her eyes narrowed in something you can’t quite place but God, does it make your blood sing in your veins. Her lips brush yours and then—

“Doctor?”

Both of you spring apart as if you’d been burned. Zoya releases her collar and looks away from you, while you clear your throat and do your best to slow down your racing heart.

“Yes, nurse?”

“The legionnaires are all patched up,” she reports. “They’re ready to go. Will you be much longer?”

“No,” you answer quickly, going back to sewing Zoya’s wound, but this time twice as fast as before. She pointedly doesn’t look at you the whole time, but her fingers are curled tightly in the sheets. You wrap up in record time, then gather all the used material and dump them in a nearby biohazard bin.

Zoya stands from the bed, and glances at your handiwork on her arm. Her face remains impassive, but she looks it over without complaint, then slings her jacket over her shoulders again. She reaches for the curtain, but before she slides it open, she offers you a glance. Her eyes are stormy with a mix of emotions you can’t quite identify, with an underlying darkness that makes your pulse jump.

“Thanks,” is all she says, before she steps out of the private bed area, leaving you alone, and you lean against the bed, sucking in a breath and running a hand through your hair.

Fuck, she’ll be the death of you one day.

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 8

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Wasn't going to double post today but I'm feeling generous with it being Valentines Day. Sadly nothing super romantic about this one, but I promise some really good stuff is coming soon! I also have a few more one shots, but my requests are open if you have any more you guys want to send through! The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

The rotunda is empty as Imogen and I enter. Everyone in the dining hall eating. The feeling of being alone should unsettle me given recent circumstances, but after today I feel like that’s behind us.

Usually I would feel her eyes on me, but as she approached me in the hall I had no idea. Though I had been a little distracted at the lack of Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi at dinner.

She leads me over to the edge of the rotunda, and sits on the ledge, leaning up against one of the pillars. I copy her on the opposite side. For a few moments we sit in silence, looking out over the trees and mountains. It’s beautiful under the moonlight. In the distance I occasionally see dragons flying around. I wonder if one of them will be mine come threshing.

“I’d say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted towards you and what I did today. But I’m won’t. It’s just my weird way of processing this I guess.” She finally says, still looking out over the trees. “But, I can’t assure you it won’t happen again.”

I slowly nod my head. “Thanks, I guess.”

She looks over at me as if confused by my response.

“Not going to lie I was expecting a different response out of you regarding this. Also kind of surprised Garrick isn’t attached to your hip after what I did.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Yeah well I kinda ran off after he told me he had feelings for me and I haven’t seen him since.”

She narrows her eyes at me and the look she gives me is like she thinks I’m crazy. Which honestly, I definitely am.

“You ran off?” She emphasises each words.

“Yeah.” I lean my head back on the pillar and sigh. I was such an idiot. “I ran off. Like an idiot. And now he’s nowhere to be seen.”

She shakes her head and laughs at me. “Well if it’s any help, I don’t think you haven’t seen him because of what happened. With Bodhi and Xaden also both gone, and from what I could see their dragons to, I think something’s come up.”

I nod. She’s right. In the last few weeks it had become almost normal for the boys to disappear some nights without much warning. But it still felt like it had to do with me. Maybe they went out to help Garrick clear his head. But if that was the case I’m sure either Xaden or Bodhi would have come to see how I was.

“I’m sure Garrick has told you are history and why I’ve been the way I’ve been?” She finally says after a few minutes of me swimming in my own thoughts.

“Yeah, only took me weeks of asking and then snapping at him in the healers quadrant before.” I tell her, earning a laugh out of her.

“I knew I’d like you. Even if I hate how much you have Garrick wrapped around your finger, I can see why.” She says with probably one of the first genuine smiles I’ve seen on her since I’ve been here. “And honestly I did this to myself. He always said he couldn’t give me more than something casual. That his heart lay elsewhere. He never said who, just that they were part of the rebellion casualties. And then you showed up.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any issues. Though was inevitable with everyone thinking I was dead for the last few years. Though I didn’t know Melgren’s plan till the night before conscription day.” I look away from her back out over the valley below us.

I catch the sad look that passes over her face as she studies me. “Don’t be sorry. You being back, as much as its annoyed me in one aspect, has been good the the guys. But can you promise me one thing?” She says as she stands.

I look over at her and nod.

”Don’t fuck it up. He deserves to be happy. And you definitely make him the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

And with that, she turns and leaves me alone in the Rotunda with my thoughts.

Imogen’s words hang over my head. Don’t fuck it up. Easier said than done. Part of me is over joyed that Garrick shares the same feelings. Though looking back I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner. I just put it down to us being best friends. Yes he wasn’t like that with Xaden, but I was a girl. Of course our friendship would naturally be a little different.

But part of me is also terrified. What if it goes badly? What if it puts a divide in the dynamic of our group. I couldn’t live with myself if I came between Xaden and Garrick. As much as Xaden is extremely loyal to Garrick, Xaden would pick me over him without a question. It would destroy him. But he would do it. And that’s not something I’d want him to do.

So I do the stupid thing and avoid them. Which sadly is quite easy with how little they are around. They’re in our daily battle brief class, wedged up in the back corner. I know cause I feel their eyes on me despite not turning around to see if they are there. But when it comes to challenges, their appearance is few and far between. And if they are there I do my best to blend into the crowd. As best as I can with my hair colour. Though I haven’t dyed it since arriving, and at nearly 2 months in my natural dark hair has started to shown through. Rhiannon and Violet keep telling me to let it grow out as it looks good with the dark red.

But outside of classes, I rarely see them. I get glimpses of them, but most nights they aren’t at dinner. Imogen makes comments about them being sent out for drills and such. Must be part of being a third year. Though I do notice they are gone more often than the other third years.

A few times Garrick tries to catch me after battle brief or find me at challenges, but somehow I manage to get away. I’m not quite ready to have the conversation he wants to have. But I can’t avoid it forever. A few times I nearly cave when I see the pained look in his hazel eyes. Pain I was causing. Pain I’d seen in Xaden and Bodhi’s eyes as well.

Soon our gym time turns into Gauntlet training with presentation day around the corner. So far our squad has done pretty well. Only one casualty so far. One I had to watch Violet almost be apart of. She hid it but I knew how much it killed her on the inside. She was yet to fully complete the gauntlet and today was our last day of training before presentation day tomorrow.

As we walk up the stairs to the gauntlet my heart drops. Not only is Xaden standing off to the side, Garrick is with him. It wasn’t uncommon for leadership to watch their squads do training on the gauntlet, so far neither had turned up for ours. Of course they show up on the last day.

Rhiannon who is next to me must notices something is off and follows my eyes to where Xaden and Garrick are.

“Why do you look so scared to see Xaden and Garrick?” She asks.

I hadn’t quite built the relationship with her that Violet had, but it was getting there. But I hadn’t told her about my interaction with Garrick after the challenge with Imogen.

“Remember how he took me to the healers after my fight with Imogen?” I whisper to her so the others around us don’t hear. The last thing I need is gossip spreading about this while I’m still figuring my own feelings out.

She nods. “Yeah I remember. Practically rushed over and scooped you up in his arms before you could get off the mat. Was quite romantic.” I roll my eyes at her.

Our group comes to a stop in front of the gauntlet, Xaden and Garrick making their way over with Emettiro. Both their eyes locked on mine.

I lean closer to her. “He might have confessed he’s essentially been in love with me for years and years despite me being dead and I kind of panicked and ran off and have been avoiding him ever since. Which also means avoiding my brother.”

She shakes her head and chuckles at me. “Girl I could have told you he was in love with you. No one looks at someone the way he does with out being in love.”

I go to reply but Emettiro calls us to start running the gauntlet. And I’m glad Rhiannon and I end up near the front, being one of the first ones to go. Though I doubt Xaden and Garrick are here to try talk to me, as much as they may want to. At the end of the day, they want the wing to do well.

I step up as Rhiannon takes off, my eyes meeting Garrick’s. His face is a mask and I can’t read it at all. I can tell he’s upset though. He’s never like that with me. I’m one of the few he never puts a mask up for. Xaden on the other hand is intently focused on Violet who is behind me. Before I take off up the gauntlet I offer Garrick a quick smile. For a brief second before I take off, his mask falters and his eyes soften as he gives me a tight lipped smile. The entire way up the I feel his eyes following me. He’s yet to see me climb it. And probably won’t tomorrow as most of the leadership wait up top for their squads and wings to pass the gauntlet.

I reach the top with ease. Yet again Melgren’s training had really prepared me for this. I’d barely had any issues getting up the gauntlet in the first day. And most times I caught up to or passed the person in front of me. As much as I didn’t want to think it. I was grateful for his training over the years. I turn around to look down the gauntlet to see both Garrick and briefly Xaden looking up at me. Both look happy with how easily I made it up. Xaden’s gaze drops to something below me. Violet is yet again stuck on the last parts of the gauntlet. And dare I say, does Xaden looks concerned? His eyes shift up to mine. We both know she needs to find an alternate way up the last part of the gauntlet.

Part 9

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh

[mychlapci]

Can we bring back the college slut Ratchet for a sec I never actually got over that

Imagine it's time for finals, and Ratchet is cracking down hard on studying. He may be a shareware slut but he still needs to make time for class, and now is the time to get serious. The problem is though, there's hardly enough time in the day to get through all his homework, have time to study for exams, and still go out for a good time. Enter his shifty deals with some scummy hookup he met online. Ratchet would get on his knees and suck spike while his contact would tell him he had all sorts of energizers and boosters he could take that would give Ratchet that extra kick to get through the day.

He didn't want anything hardcore, but he did take what his date offered him as he made his way out; some strange sort of energy boosters. The packaging said it was all natural in big cybertronian font, but the rest of the label was in some other alien language Ratchet couldn't read. He should know better than taking mystery pills, but Ratchet was pretty desperate for a quick fix to his problems, finals were getting closer after all.

After a few weeks of taking his daily pill, Ratchet felt great. He was full of energy all day long, he was getting plenty of work done rereading his notes and watching lectures, and he's had plenty of compliments on his perfect tight valve from his hookups. The only downsides Ratchet could point out were the extreme jump in his libido and the soreness in his chest. He was always an active bot, but Ratchet had been ready to crawl on other bots to get to their interface arrays. No one he hooked up with had any complaints that Ratchet wanted them around longer, so he didn't take it too seriously. The pain though wasn't as easy to ignore. He just felt so sore and tender, and he felt an increase of pressure on his windshield over time.

It was probably just the stress, he would tell himself. Ratchet had been eating more energon treats lately instead of eating full meals, the junk food binges just saved time in comparison to cooking. The stress probably also didn't help the bloating, he was sure once his exams were over he'd bounce right back to his usual specs. It'd have to be something he worried about later, because Ratchet had another date with his dealer to pick up more of his strange energy pills.

After a while of hot and heavy interfacing, the mech had smacked against Ratchet's windshield when their frames connected, leading the glass to crack. Ratchet didn't panic when pulling the remaining thick glass out of its slot in his chest, he was more shocked what was left from it. Ratchet's swollen chest bulged out the busted window. When he unlatched his armor, he stared in surprise at the enormous heavy energon pouches he didn't remember having a month ago. No wonder the glass had broken, clearly his breasts were too much strain! When he got back to campus he'd have to speak to the university doctors. He hated to say it, but he had to close up and end his hot date early.

The other mech was understanding and handed over Ratchet's energy pills before he left for the evening. Ratchet looked over the package, noticing it had changed from his empty pack. This time the box was a lighter pink, and all the text was in cybertronian. He read the box carefully now that he could understand it and froze up. The packaging wasn't a natural energy booster, or at least it wasn't a good description of what he was given. The pills Ratchet had been taking daily for weeks was what mechs would use to feminize their frames before any update work to lay groundwork for new plating. Ratchet's protoform was redistributing to thicken his thighs and aft and caused his usually inactive excess energon pouches to fill rapidly. It probably tied to his bad eating habits too, he figured. Only wanting sweets to bulk out his protoform more for all the changing it had done. Ratchet barely noticed the changes under his armor, but now that he was really examining it, he did feel more loose in some places and tighter in others.

He bounced between turning around to give his hook up a piece of his mind or going home and ended up just going back to his dorm. He could get angry and do something about the pill switch once exam week was over. He needed his full focus on his classes, even if studying without his pills was exhausting. Maybe just for a little longer Ratchet could stay on his pretty pills, but he'd stop right after exams.... And maybe after the party he planned to go to after exams, after all the horny pent up medbots in training would love to get their hands on his milky tits, and getting fondled by dozens of big strong mechs sounded amazing to Ratchet. -🌱

RATCHET FORCEFEM!!!! Aaaaaa!!!! Medic in training, he should've known not to take strange pills from shady older bots, but spike makes his head muddy, and he liked the promise of a little energy boost. His pills make him feel so good, not in a suspicious way, he's just... so lively and full of energy these days. aw, if only his chest wouldn't ache so much <33 i bet his contract loved watching him fill out a little bit, and his titties spilling out was just the cherry on top.

Ratchet should stop taking the pills, but it would be so stupid to go cold turkey now. And his titties are a big hit with all his classmates, and Ratchet loves having them fondled by big strong hands and maybe he should just have a little reframe so his fat thighs aren't so tight under their plating and maybe get a slightly bigger windshield so his chest isn't too sore all the time.

Soon he'll be a curvy little thing that no mech can take their optics off of...

[softlyella]

Sensual discoveries

Part One: Pain

🔮 synopsis. Best friends discovers new sides of each others and tether the line between friendship and their hidden romantic feelings.

tw/cw. sexual education. scratching, hair pulling, suggestive talk, BDSM talk. I pet names: (his) sweetie, pretty boy.

🔫 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 3.6k

🍭 aus. friends to lovers

© This fic is an original work from softlyella, 2024. No part of this work can be used to train AI. This fic cannot be modified, published, translated in any way, shape or form without the written consent of its owner.

“I just don’t get how pain can be enjoyable,” Kai shrugged. 

Lily stared at her friend, surprised by his words. She vividly recalled conversations of him expressing enjoying biting and nail scratches. Yet, for some obscure reason, that was not where her brain decided to go.

“Well actually, according to a recent study, individuals who enjoy spicy food have a pain kink. The spiciness makes your taste buds hurt which activates pain in your nervous system, but as you feel good eating food, and eating this particular food, it also activates pleasure. So your nervous system registers that pain on a certain level brings you pleasure.”

Lily had a knack for remembering any information she read unless it was information she actually needed to remember.  

“That’s- that’s completely different Lil!” Kai shouted out, exasperated.

“Not entirely… no. It is relevant. Right now, you're just upset cause you love spicy food.” Lily shook her slowly, adamant. “However, on the subject of that girl…. You were startled and hadn’t consented, so her touching you in that manner was not enjoyable. Should you be in a safe and comfortable environment, with someone you trusted, I do think you’d enjoy a bit of pain.” Seeing her friend opening his mouth, clearly about to argue her point, she added promptly, “Just a bit, everyone has their limits.”

“My limit is none, thank you very much,” Kai added stubbornly. He sighed, pulling his legs into his arms, resting his chin on his knees. He groaned loudly, the sound muffled by his legs.

“That’s just- I don’t want sex that feels like a good fuck. I want sex that is romantic, you know? I want the ‘out of body experience’ type of sex. I want it to be intense and bonding. And binding too!” Kai professed, desperately. “I want to make love to a woman and feel consumed by her. I’ve been trying to meet someone but I want my someone. My person. All people do nowadays is cheat on each other and fuck everywhere but in their own bed and nothing lasts!” 

Lily’s eyes softened at her dear friend’s rant: this wasn’t about a kink, this was about his ex, her cheating on him and Kai’s romantic nature. She moved the bag and books and other random objects they had been using for the past 2 hours out of the sofa, and moved closer to the sad, pouting, boy. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears, further breaking Lily’s heart. She hated seeing him sad. 

Resting her head on Kai’s knees, she pressed a soft kiss on his hand, gently caressing the other.

“Kai,” she said softly, “you’re gonna meet your person. You will find the love of your life, and I have no doubt that you will know how to keep them in your life.”

“My ex cheated on me, Lily.”

“We don’t talk about her.”

He sighed, “ever since Jennie and I broke up, I’ve only met people who saw nothing in me but a pretty boy good or a quick fuck.” 

Pushing his long dark hair away from his face, Lily held his gaze, tenderly, “Kai sweetie… you are a pretty boy.”

He lowered his eyes, a single tear falling from his eye, escaping the tight hold he had had on them. “What if I’m just not good enough to be someone’s last love?” He asked his voice small and hesitant, barely above a whisper.

At that moment, the spirited woman that was Lily wanted her knuckles to mercilessly meet Jennie’s cheek. She had never liked her, and it was not because of any female rivalry bullshit. Jennie was just judgmental and seemed to think she was better than anyone else, and always trying to put down other woman. Something Lily particularly disliked.

“This dumb hoe cheating on you was about her own commitment issue, lack of morals, poor judgment and dumbassery. She was never good enough for you anyway and I told you so from the beginning.”

“But she said… she said I was too boring in bed. That she wanted to have fun and tried new things but I- I didn’t feel… comfortable with it.” Kai shrugged.

“And that’s exactly it, Kai!” Lily exclaimed, raging that her sweet friend could ever think himself unworthy of being truly loved. “You not being comfortable enough to try things with her was a red flag. A big fucking one! Red like blood! If you instinctively feel uncomfortable at the idea to put yourself in a position of vulnerability with another person, then it’s a sign!”

Lily gently put her hands on her friend’s cheeks, smushing them together as she brought his face up to meet her eyes. “Sweetie, I’m a feminist and I don’t like men. So complimenting your species isn’t in my nature, and you know that much.”$He nodded and Lily took note of how adorable he looked his eyes glistening and face all squished between her hands. 

“You’ve spend the year doing amazing. You went to therapy, worked on yourself, addressed many wounds that could hinder a healthy, emotionally mature relationship. You’ve been doing great. Any girl would be lucky to have you as her last love.” As if to punctuate her sentiment, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Kai thanked his friend, touched by her passionate defence and how highly she thought of him. But Lily smiled that smile that always made his stomach do summersaults, he seemed as frozen, lost in feelings that had been overwhelming him.

Lily and Kai had been friends for two years now. Both introverted people, they took a long time before really truly connecting and letting the other in.  Ever since he had met her he had felt drawn to here like a moth to a flame; she was devastatingly beautiful, incredibly smart and so, so, so sweet. A beauty and grace that charmed everyone, and intimated a few.

Truth was that Kai had been in love with Lily for months but had never risked telling her. He was determined to keep her inches life, to have her obsidian eyes on him for as long as he could. 

He took a long look at her lips, mesmerised by their shape and colour. He had always the brown outline of her lips, with its pink center. Her lips were so full, he dreamt of tracing their brown contour with his tongue. Today, they were shinier due to the gloss she was wearing.

Glossy and pink.

Such an enticing combination.

When he spoke again, his voice was serious. “Would you consider yourself lucky to have me?”

“In our case, you’d be the unlucky one. I think you’d run away screaming and never speak to me again if you took a peak at the Lily inside,” she joked.

“What if I didn’t?” He pushed, needing some reassurance, no matter how ridiculous it could be in this moment. “Would you feel lucky?”

Understanding his need for reassurance and love in that moment, Lily dropped the playfulness and turned serious. “To be yours? One hundred percent. Why do you think you’re my only guy friend?” She punctuated her response with a eyebrow raise that drew Kai’s gaze to her eyes.

She had the most striking gaze, he thought, one that felt so tantalising. One of the thing Kai loved most about Lily was her habit of staring at a person and leaning in, giving them her full attention. He was particularly proud to be someone she did this with the most. He simply loved having her full attention, it always made his blood boil, his entire body heating up under her gaze, her aura.

It was true, Lily didn’t have any male friends, stating that ‘male energy within her sacred space just wasn’t ideal’. Something else Kai liked about her, that she didn’t have men in her life but him. He felt special to be in her inner circle, special and proud.

Suddenly, as if shot by an electric charge he remembered her previous words. “Have you ever tried, Lil?”

“Tried what, sweetie?”

“Pain. Pain kink”

“Not nearly as often as I’d like,” she sighed, letting her body fall completely on his folded legs. Her pretty doe eyes plunged in his.

Unable to resist, Kai brought his hand to her face, gently pushing her delicate brown curls away from her face, taking in her striking beauty. He then asked, lowly, “why not?”

“Well… I guess…. I want someone I truly connect with. Not a quick fuck. Not someone to play with. And I like being the one inflicting pain. Men who like receiving are… a little harder to find,” she confessed with a pout.

“You mean, you actually are… dominant?”

“Yes. Why? You wondered?” she asked, making his legs tremble slightly with her chuckles. 

He considered the idea for a moment, yes, he had wondered - hoped even- but never could be sure. “You’re pretty... no-nonsense and quite… pushy when you want something. All things I like about you!” He exclaimed, holding her gaze. The last thing Kai wanted was to hurt he is friend, especially since these were things he actually really loved about her. 

He added, shrugging, trying to appear nonchalant. “Sometimes you’re even a little mean…and it’s not unpleasant.”

Lily rose from her folded position and sat straighter, ensuring her eyes were levelled with Kai's. She raised her hand to grasp at the tufts of hair falling in front of Kai’s eyes, fiddling with them. “You like when I’m mean to you, Kai?”

Her soft, feminine voice had taken on a slightly sultrier tone, and in that moment the young man’s attention strayed. He had dreamed of her speaking to him with that voice and experiencing that, combined with her warm touch, a sharply sweet thrill gripped him.

“Y-yeah…”

“Kai,” Lily said softly, tucking his long raven hair behind his ear. “With the woman you love and trust you could be exploring things, exploring your desires further, hers… What if the woman you fall in love with, the one, wants to not-so-gently pull your hair and bite your throat?”

Kai’s casual comment had awoken the caged temptress in Lily, and it was as such that she ran her fingers down his jawline, all the way down to his Adam’s apple, watching his breath hitching: a temptress, tempting the object of her own temptation.

“Leave a pretty mark right… here.” Her thumb grazed a spot right above his collarbone, before slowly going up, pressing down on the skin as it did so, rubbing it strongly, almost… painfully. “What if she licks you all the way up here… then runs her teeth all the way back down on your skin, teasing you, making you shiver. Hmmm? And what if, once you start trembling, she bites down the skin. Pulls onto it. Sucks on it until it bruises nicely.”

Speaking slowly, enunciating each syllable perfectly, her eyes never leaving Kai’s, Lily was tethering a limit she had set long ago in her friendship: not acting on her romantic feelings. Yet, there was Kai, sad because his romantic heart still hadn’t found the eternal love he yearned for, feeling violated because cause a mindless hussy had dared touched him in a way that was way too forward, way too intimate for a first date and confessing things that she’s long suspected, wished for, imagined once or twice or even a few more times than that in moments pleasure, alone with her fingers. She knew Kai wasn’t the type to fuck someone in a public bathroom, he wanted candles, handwritten love letters, and Lily was now certain of it, to be owned.

He hadn’t yet said a word, eyes still fixated on hers. She needed to push him a little bit more. Or maybe no? If she went any further, she'd be stepping on a line, the line that rained their friendship. But if she did, she' would make such sensual discoveries about sweet Kai. Was it really a choice?

“If I was to kiss your neck right now, lightly bite you. Do you think you would hate it?”

Kai’s frantically shook his head, causing her to chuckle at his eagerness. How cute was he.

“No?” She hummed, feigning reflexion. “What if I was to bite just a little harder? Not enough to break the skin but enough to….leave a mark on your beautiful bronze skin?”

He gulped, his mouth running dry. “Well-”

“A mark that says you’re mine. Taken. Spoken for. A mark that says no one is allowed to approach because you belong to me.” 

Kai stared, mouth agape. Was this really happening to him? Was the woman of his dreams truly saying what she was saying? To him?! He simply couldn’t believe his ears. Lily, on the other hand, was nowhere near done.

“An ache in your skin to remind you of the pleasure only I can give you.”

Oh, it brought Lily way too much pleasure to say those things out loud. To notice how Kai gulped, his eyes faltering, how he absolutely wanted to pinch himself to know if he was dreaming. 

In a sickeningly sweet voice, she faked shock, “and what if you’re being bad, Kai?”

Confusion painted his gorgeous face. “Huh?” B-Bad?”

She leaned forward, eyes boring into his own. Deep into him. “Bad. Wicked. Naughty Kai.” Her voice changed, suddenly, into a lighthearted tone,  “I would have to punish you.”

“P-pu-punish me?” 

She hummed in approval, “Hum hum... to remind you to be a good boy for me.”

“A good boy.” He paused, gulped to moisten his very dry mouth. “For you.”

“If I have to punish you, make your body hurt so you remember who you belong to and how to behave. You don’t think you could feel a tinge of arousal whenever you remembered your punishment? Every time you felt the soreness in your muscles, the memories of all the ways I manhandled you rushing back.”

It seemed like, at first, his eyes were all surprised, wide and glistening; then, they were reasoning, narrowing on the devilish woman before him, telling him none of this was actually happening.

“Lil,” the way Kay said her name sounded more like a grunt than anything else, words leaving him without a filter, like the blood that ran to his cock lacked in his brain and tongue. “Is this a dream?”

“Let’s see, shall we?” She asked teasingly. 

He didn’t move, nor speak. Simply sitting, immobile, his legs still drawn up before him. 

She asked again, waiting for his confirmation and consent, "shall we, Kai?” 

“Okay,” he breathed out.

“Let’s starts with something so easy, so simple.”

She pushed his legs down, and lifted his shirt, before bringing it to his mouth.

“Open,” she commanded. She then tucked the end of his shirt into his mouth before instructing him to bite down on it. Lily stared in awe, running her nails over the defined surface of her friend’s abdomen.

“If this falls out of your mouth, I’ll stop immediately. Do you understand?” With his silent nod, she grabbed his wrist.  “Wrap your hand around my wrist. That way, if you want me to stop, just pull my hand.”

Again, Kai nodded silently. His eyes still wide and glistening; this time not only with surprise, but lust too. Those wide dark eyes watched as the now in charge woman showed him her hands, purposefully pointing at her long manicured nails. Slowly, she placed her hands, cold, on his stomach. His breath hitched, but it was nothing in comparison to the feeling of her running her pretty pink fingernails on his stomach. Lightly at first, then, a little harder the second time. The third time, Kai’s fist clenched. It did hurt. He was sure it would leave marks. 

“Are you okay, Kai?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he whispers lowly, his mouth full. 

“Why don't you pull down your pants a little for me?”

“Anything for you,” he whispered, the look in his eyes affirming his words. Shy, pleading, and loving. Lily’s heart is fluttering, her head is telling her this is just a nice moment between friends, an indulgence. Meanwhile, unaware of her conflicting emotions, Kai obeyed her command and slid his sweatpants and boxers down.

“Like this is enough?” He asks, his voice wavering.

It was perfect, Lily thought. It showed just enough of what she wanted: a little bit of his bush, and the outline of his already hard cock. Kai shrunk a little under Lily’s gaze fixated on him.

“I-is it okay like that?”- he asks timidly.

Lily licked her lips, eyes glued to his pelvis area. “It’s so fucking hot.”

“Really?”

And her eyes met Kai’s, who shivered meeting them: this was the gleaming gaze of a hungry carnivore. One ready to devour him.

“Really,” she whispered, hand reaching down, gently, slowly. He expected her to caress his cock, to tease him, instead Lily gently ran her fingers down his happy trail, caressing the hair, playing with it before suddenly lightly pulling on them. Kai jolted, his cock twitching as electricity ran through his body.

“Oh… oh that feels good,” words choked in his throat as the pain deliciously mixed with pleasure. He wanted her fingers all over him, wanted to feel this all over his entire body. Lily smiled before pulling a little harder, unable to help the gush of arousal pooling on her panties upon hearing Kai’s cute little whimpers. Seeing her pretty friend, all sprawled out for her, on her couch, legs slightly spread, dick hard, eyes wet, mouth full and willing… he simply looked delectable.

“Should we try something else now?”

He didn’t need to think about it, the answer was yes. Kai nodded, already certain he would agree to anything for the woman he had madly in love with for almost two years now. 

She tutted, “I’m gonna need words now, pretty boy.” She said pulling on his hair again, harder. The combination of being called ‘pretty boy’ and the thrill of pain short- circuit Kai’s brain and the moan that left his mouth as a result was downright sinful. He doesn’t care, too far gone to feel embarrassed. He wanted more. He wanted it all.

“Yes Lily.”

“Yes what, pretty boy?” she murmured.

Kai struggled with clear thinking in that moment, his senses were fogged by the excitement of being touched by his love, in a way that was new to him but oh so pleasurable; he wanted Lily to call him her pretty boy, forever. He wanted to be pretty for her, have her coo at his visuals. Another harsh pull of his hair, another loud moan left his mouth, and he shamelessly jutted his hips forward, his hard member desperately seeking the demanding woman’s touch.

“Are you comfortable with me taking things one level further, Kai?”

He recoiled. “Ew, don’t call me that!” Her saying his name felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown at his face when he’d been so warm since she had started touching him. 

“No? What do you want me to call you? Pretty boy?” she taunted. Lily ran her free hand on Kai’s thighs, spreading them further apart. The male visibly gulped, his eyes bored into her as he looked at her sweetly.

“Yes please,”he breathed out.

Lily’s hand came up to his chin, lifting his face up, her thumb pressing into his plushy lower lip. His lips part as he looked at her, mesmerised. She pushed her thumb into his mouth, his tongue immediately wrapping around it, sucking on her.

“Pretty boy? Do you, or do you not want to try more?”

With a mouth full, he answered. “Please Lily, yes.”

She smiled, satisfied with not only his answer, but his politeness and eagerness too. She wanted to explore his limits, see how much she could ruin him, how many memories she could keep of him when this night of discoveries inevitably ended.

“Do you know what a safe word is?” She asked, removing her thumb from his mouth. 

He nodded once more. She pulled harshly and suddenly at his hair.

“Ah!” he whined loudly, his thighs and biceps flexing and straining as his hard cock twitches.

Lily’s voice is stern this time. “Words.”

“Sorry. Yes, I know what safe words are. Hum... traffic lights.”

Still stern, she ordered him to describe them to her, wanting to make sure he knew exactly what it was. 

“Red, yellow and green, mean stop, this could go either way and yes continue.”

“Very good example. Poorly explained,” she commented. Kai wondered why he felt so disappointed to have not done well for her.  

“Pay attention!” Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He nodded sheepishly.

“Green means all is well, go ahead, I love this I’m comfortable. Please don’t stop. Yellow means okay, I’m a little unsure, I mean I like this, I think, but I’m not fully confident here. Thread carefully.  Red means stop.” She leans forward, grabbing his chin. “Red means I stop immediately. Hold you. Make you feel safe. Reassure you. Warm you up. Take care of you. Immediately. Do you understand?”

Kai nodded once more, and as he felt her hand beginning to twist. He put his hands up in a stopping motion and shouted, “YES! Yes, yes, yes I understand.”

“Repeat them for me,” she ordered, caressing him once more, her hand going slightly lower, grazing his touch deprived cock.

Kai whined, feeling so utterly desperate for her touch where he needed her most. “Green is what I say when I like everything and don’t want you to stop. Yellow is when…hum… I’m a little scared but want to see what happens. Red is when I can’t anymore and want it to end. Immediately.”

All traces of severity were gone from Lily’s voice as she affirmed, “red means I make sure you feel safe and okay.” 

“I feel safe and okay with you Lily. I’d love to explore a bit more with you.”

And he meant every word.

Reblog, Like & Comment for part 2 🌹

© This fic is an original work from softlyella, 2024. No part of this work can be used to train AI. This fic cannot be modified, published, translated in any way, shape or form without the written consent of its owner.

[seungminismyboo]

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X FEM READER FUCKING IN A LIBRARY

☾ ━━━ CONTENT: SMUT, EATING HER OUT, FINGER PLAY, CHAIR SEX, CALLS YOU DARLING (I think that’s it)

☾ ━━━ 18+!! Unless you wanna be a bit risky..

━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━

Seungmin is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Seungmin doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. Thursday afternoon, sitting at the library desks trying to study, thinks about how dumb he really is. he reads his textbook and… God, he is fucking stupid, since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class and there is nothing that Seungmin hates more than being called stupid. Then his thoughts came to you. He’d see you stare at him in class and in the hallways a lot, and Seungmin interprets your stares. But he doesn’t really know how he feels about you. Seungmin generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. So Seungmin just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud smack of books wakes Seungmin from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break! Disoriented, Seungmin raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. Slowly, Seungmin recognizes you, in the book isle.. checking out some books. He knew you always liked reading. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the isle. Seungmin furrows his brows and shakes his head. Why would he even go up to you? Pfft. What a dummy. But Seungmin froze when he heard you call his name. He turned around and saw you with your arms crossed and staring right at him. A few seconds pass until Seungmin finally realizes that he hasn’t said anything yet, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Thinking of what to say. “Oh sorry. I was just STARING AT YOU” like.. no…

“Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside.

"It's fine, really" you stare at him before walking deeper into the isle of books.

"May I follow you?" Seungmin asked.

You nod and he manages to follow you into the isle, deeper and deeper where no one else was. You sit at an empty table and take out a few books from your backpack and some of the ones you just found. You glance at him and see Seungmin in a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. You see he’s dressed quite messy. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Because normally he’s always dressed so well. Of course, you'd notice.

"Seungmin, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Seungmin has not seen. Ever.

"What..?” He said confused.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re dressed like a mess..” you reply.

Then he lets out a sigh. “I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?"

Seungmin’s tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Seungmin informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm.

“Well you should continue. I heard your grades are dropping.”

Seungmin sighed and got up to grab his stuff. He came back and placed it down and sat beside you. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second. Seungmin’s mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your hand against your book to remind him to continue to study. Seungmin groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice? "I'm really glad you let me be here with you.." He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Seungmin decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you.

"Seungmin, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Seungmin reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, He is not stupid. He does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Seungmin inhales sharply.

Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on this table, without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today.""A-are you?"

You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Seungmin looks at you without moving his head.

"Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Seungmin enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel.

"There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your book in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the pages until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud. Seungmins favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together. Oh, how Seungmin loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Seungmin confirms with a slight smirk.

He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Seungmin lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Seungmin so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should go then..?"

Seungmin smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His slender fingers toying with his pen, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements.

"Already?""Mhm."

You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Seungmin listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching. As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing.

"What?" Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Seungmin smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness.

"Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Seungmin loves this game. That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you.

Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Kim Seungmin stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Seungmin can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him. Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Seungmin’s form, but Seungmin is not here for it. He has gotten what he wants. Seungmin feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Seungmin’s mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Seungmin smugly leaned back in his chair.

Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said. In the blink of an eye, Seungmin feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Seungmin gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his. A deep groan escapes Seungmin’s lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. His hands go up your skirt, touching your panties. He can feel they are getting wet. He glides his fingers along it, Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Seungmin in front of you.

Yes, he is aware of the effect of his siren eyes. For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise.

And you do, allowing Seungmin to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the table. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Seungmin is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time. Okay, Seungmin admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more. Impatient as you are, you assist Seungmin in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes. And as much as he would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access.

His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Seungmin loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even. Finally, the time has come, and Seungmin kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, smirking at the wetness on it. His hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Okay, maybe Seungmin feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in. So that's what he does, He goes down on his knees, looking at your eyes, then your clit. You laid back on the table.. just waiting for it. Obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Seungmin tastes you. His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls. Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Seungmin thinks, not to brag, but-Seungmins eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Seungmin’s fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands. To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, he lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you.

At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance. Seungmin loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this. He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle.

“Shh.. darling.. people will hear us..” Seungmin whispered. Then he feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist. Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum. Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you. Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it. Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Seungmin says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants.

And as if you're getting paid to stroke Seungmin’s ego even more, you gasp at his size. Seungmin can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully.

Oh, how Seungmin would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Seungmin is more in his giving,receiving era. Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more. Seungmin smiled and pulled you into a kiss, picking you up by the thighs and bringing you back down on his lap. He said on the chair again, kissing you passionately. Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Seungmin helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle. Damnit, Seungmin. Why are you so hot. Seungmin mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Seungmin and are not possessed by a sex demon."

“I don't fucking care. Just get these boxers off and have sex with me!"Seungmin does not need to be told twice, only a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Seungmin chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half,

"come here. Please."

You scoot closer and Seungmin moaned. The feeling of your thighs and clit against his dick, And you start to beg him with your eyes. Seungmin wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards, making you bounce up a little. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely. His hands trail your skirt, pulling it upwards. Exposing your thighs and ass. And he softly squeezed it. God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Seungmin feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again." How did that get out there? You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now.

"You're so cute." Cute?! Seungmin will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance.

"Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open.

Helplessly, you cling to Seungmin’s body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier. With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Seungmin’s ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return.

"Yeah, like it that my voice is so seductive?" You nod pathetically. "Cute.""Seungmin- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Seungmin grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open.

He really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot.

Seungmin feels like he loves you. He also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it?

All that matters is that Seungmin’s ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish. His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one. Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Seungmin if he kept it that way.

That's why he found himself putting you back on the table, going into his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge. It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Seungmin eating his own cum out of you, he assumes.

Somehow, you two end up in his bed after a romantic drive to his house, mostly because Seungmin is a cuddler, partly because he’s is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows. Maybe he’ll never ever let you go..

The end!

(Unless you want a part two on what happens at his house..)

[missamyrisa2]

15 questions for 15 friends:

Thanks for thinking of me for these questions, @lady-featherquill ~ this is like mmmmh a certain kind of tingle blushhh tickle for me to be called on~

Were you named after anyone?: Yess I was named after Burl Ives, but you wouldn't know it because I spell and pronounce my name differently~

When was the last time you cried?: I made the mistake of thinking about The Lion King a few hours ago~

Do you have kids?: I make kids all the time. Like crying over the lion king because I randomly was thinking about how real to life the animation was of Simba pulling on Mufasa's ear and holygodddddd he was trying to wake his dad up whyyyyyyy are animators so supremely great at heartsqueezing~~~ I'm just kidding. That was a kid.

What sports do you play/have you played?: all of them I think~ I live by the fake it until you make it mindset and I'm still figuring out the latter part of that. But I did study pickleball thoroughly under its venerable founder, The Earl of Pickle

Do you use sarcasm?: William Shakesman said that's the lowest form of brevity so I try to avoid it whenever possible, also I'm horrendously bad at it to where I sound completely sincere and this has resulted in one too many punches to the face because, surprisingly if you poorly sarcastically announce you'd really love to be just hit in the face there are a LOT of people who are all too eager to jump in~

What is the first thing you notice about people?: That they're always trying to figure out if I hate them because I had a fairly consistent RBF crossed with an inclination to be mysterious. Through online interactions I first take note of their comma frequency because that says so much about a person's Oxford-related preferences.

What's your eye color?: Blue or green or grey depending which type of light you shove in my face, followed by whatever my eyelid is because moonlight makes me squint

Scary movies or happy endings?: I like the ones where nothing is really resolved and the story just sort of stops because everyone gave up and it was probably lunchtime so f*ck it~

Any talents?: I can do a hair flip like nobody's business, which is to say no one should ever be in the business of doing such hair flips because I've knocked over more cups and hit my head on more things than anyone should do in five lifetimes.

Where were you born?: I'm fairly certain I've always been, because whenever I attempt to find the record of my birth Mr. Tumnus plays an enchanting tune and I wake up in a cold room.

What are your hobbies?: arguing on the Internet and street corners why Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is better than Brotherhood. I took up the hobby after some guy stole my bicycle which was an outrage, but that was his hobby and he imparted the wisdom which set me on my path which is that a hobby is something that makes you completely miserable and spreads that misery onto anyone unfortunate enough to share your space.

Do you have any pets?: No, no one ever wants to pet me and it's probably because of the below answer

How tall are you?: 6'2

Favorite subject in school?: History. Not so much for the subject matter but because memorizing facts comes obscenely easy to me and I loved writing excessively lengthy essays which went nowhere and were loaded with as many funny words as I could muster like trying to relate an unrelated event to the future of filibustering.

Dream job?: Tending a lighthouse so I could make giant shadowpuppets over the water and make alligator mouths eat the ships.

Join in and pass it on if you can. Don't feel obligated!

@witchy-giggles @atomiccollectorwitch @crystalstarlight4657 @opossumgirltongue @adventuresofmelody @greenticklerdreams @juviisworld @dusktexanler @polsj103 @fuzzypilled @androgynousangeldreamland @daisylovestickles @yourgothgfswitch @magicaltickles @giggliestgirl

[gummiworm-writes]

dottore x gn reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

a/n: evil insane villain who hates everyone but you is my favorite trope ever so here you go <3

word count: 636

dottore has no need for love. love is a human weakness, something that would only weigh him down and cause him to fall. he abandoned the concept of love the second he abandoned his humanity. the fatui worship him as a god, so why should he feel as a human?

the whole concept was ridiculous.

and yet...there you were.

destroying everything he thought he knew about himself. all with a single smile.

that damned smile.

it would be his downfall for sure.

you are dottore's primary assistant. the only person capable of dealing with all of his deranged ramblings and cruel studies. despite the distinct lack of humanity present in the lab, you always managed to remain calm...maybe even a little compassionate.

dottore treated you differently than everyone else. he treated you...well, not as an equal. nobody is an equal to him in his eyes, not even his own segments. but...you came close.

he claimed it was because he appreciated your competence and respected your work.

and you believed him.

because why would a harbinger as powerful as him actually care for a human as weak as you?

the very notion was absurd.

but...even then, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at you. the way his voice seemed softer when directed at you, the way his hands gently brushed yours instead of harshly grabbing them...

no, no. you were just thinking into it too much. that's all.

today you and dottore were studying a new automaton. something khaenri'ahn that you'd never seen before. dottore called it a "ruin tarragon." you, on the other hand, preferred to call it "ingrid."

you were carefully inspecting the mechanisms on its legs, humming a tune from your home nation. usually, dottore had a record playing. not today. ingrid took up too much space in the workshop.

dottore didn't seem to mind your humming. you often caught him glancing over at you if you stopped, as if he was disappointed that your song was gone.

it was endearing.

well, as endearing as dottore could be.

hours fly by, and it's now time for a lunch break. dottore claims that he doesn't need to eat, but he still spends this break with you, occasionally stealing some of your snacks.

"what do you think the purpose of the tarragon was?" dottore asked suddenly. "it wasn't for war, i found no traces of weaponry. not for agriculture, as there was no room for equipment. and definitely not transportation...that would just be ridiculously unsafe, and the khaenri'ahns were smarter than that."

"hm..." you hummed, thinking. "maybe it was simply made for companionship?"

dottore gave you a confused look.

"the hell do you mean, 'companionship'?"

"well...it doesn't seem to serve any other purpose that I can think of. plus, it has rounded edges, and what appears to be places where there used to be fabric, almost as if it were meant to have a padded exterior."

"...but it looks so powerful and imposing. i doubt that it would make a very good companion."

"...break's over," dottore said, standing up. "we need to get back to work. on...ingrid.

"you'd be surprised," you said with a smile.

that damned smile.

"and what is that supposed to mean?" dottore asked, raising an eyebrow.

"not everything that's strong and scary makes a bad companion. like...you. you're tall, powerful, intimidating...but I also enjoy spending time with you."

there was a pause. a long, long pause.

"...break's over," dottore stood up. "we need to get back to the workshop...ingrid's waiting for us."

you smiled happily at the name.

that goddamned smile.

he was lucky that his mask covered up the blush spreading on his face.

it didn't cover his ears, though.

and that only made you smile wider.

[riise-my-anngel]

Idk i just think theres something to say the brothers all realizing what time period you are trapped in and the way they fall apart.

Lucifer and Belphie understand the others fear. Both of them came close to, or succeeded in killing you and they know that time period they WILL try again and thats terrifying. They've done a lot to personally grow from their actions towards you.

And they both have nights where they sit in Lucifers study, drinks in their hand, discussing if they could live with themselves if you are killed by their past selves. And also what happens if you come back, but sre scared or lost trust in their present selves.

Its the most honest the two of of them have been in a long time. Their unique out of the brothers. Their violence towards you was unforgivable but yet you not only forgave them but now love them. Lucifer and Belphie are powerless to protect you from their past selves and they hate themselves for being such violent demons that they know hurting you is probable.

Satan, well, no one understands. He barely does. His room is a wreck. He hasn't been like this in centuries. He has no idea what his past self is capable of towards you all he remembers is his hate for his brothers and no amount of magic would spare you from his wrath tearing your body into peices.

Everyone at RAD is terrified of Satan, everyone who isn't the brothers, angels, or the royals refuse to bring your name up. He's already had to pay for damaging quite a few walls and doors because lesser demons would comment to him about him "finally losing his dumb little pet".

It isn't lost on Satan that the very fact that you're trapped in a time period where his wrath is dangerous and unpredictable, and that has led his present self to cope by being dangerous and unpredictable. He just isn't himself without you anymore.

Levi is lost in a fantasy world. Its easier to pretend you're just in your room if he hides away to his anime and his video games. He can just pretend everything is fine but the second he remembers your not there? Well the HoL isn't the only place that has had issues with Lotan being summoned. A lesser demon made a comment about the "human finally moving on from the lord of losers" and whoops guess that demon and quite a few others drowned to death. Over and over again until Diavolo had to step in and make Levi stop.

Beel can't figure out if he's ravenous or if he never wants to eat again. He fluctuates, some days he destroys whatever kitchen he's in, be it HoL, RAD cafeteria or just whatever restaurant he happens to be nearby. Other days he spends hours in the kitchen making your favourite devildom food, trying to recreate the human world food you two made together, but once its done he feels sick to his stomach that you can't just be there cooking with him and he can't see that shy smile you hide behind your hand when you have something you love. So he just tosses them onto the dining table for the brothers and goes to Fangol practice instead. At least he is more allowed to be aggressive there.

This is worse then losing Lilith, because he might never know what happened to you. Protecting people was his JOB and if he couldn't protect you, then its worse then having to choose betwern siblings lives. It means Beel failed before even trying, in his eyes.

Asmo doesn't recognize himself. He didn't realize how much time his vanity was actually spent with you in his chair and him draped over you behind him constantly doting on you. He buys things he thinks you'd look stunning in or things with your favorite scent and as soon as he gets home? Well not much gets kept. He throws the bottles at his tub until its a scattered mess of liquids that needs to be cleaned and clothes he bought you get torn up. Why should he keep them if you never come home, they would just be a reminder of what he can never see again. He doesn't recognize his reflection without you. You love him for who he is not what he looks like, but all alone he can never see the good you saw in him and he hates that all is left in his reflection is a bitter, miserable demon who lost the only person who loves him for his inner self.

No one even tries to sleep with him, he didn't fool around once you two shared your feelings but now hes offended at even being propositioned. These demons, succubus and incubus, they all just see his face and body and want a peice. You looked him in the eye and fell in love without any charm or magic. Who do these people think they are assuming they could ever live up to you? Many nights he goes out, he ends up physically attacking people who dare get too touchy with him.

Mammon tried. He really did. He wanted to keep his brothers together, but it just isn't working. No one knows if you're alive anymore and Solomon has stopped bothering trying to send word through time to update on your status. Once Solomon stopped? The brothers couldn't stand listening to Mammon being calm and rational anymore. No one knew if you were ever coming back and Mammon didn't know how to make them believe otherwise when he didn't know himself.

He's not in the house a lot anymore. He spent too much time with you in that house he can't stand the sight of it. Ironically he's never been richer. He doesn't see the joy in schemes or ploys without you to scold yet indulge him, you're not around to spend it on, so he just gambles. Wins more, has nothing to do with so he gambles.

In a winning streak, he'd either pull you right to his side or just haul you onto his lap to show off his pretty little good luck charm. Now he's winning all on his own and he doesn't give a shit about any of the people around vying for his attention or time. They ain't you, but he'll take their money cus what else is he going to do. You're not there and no one has the right to even think they could replace you.

They all know one thing though. If you never come back, Solomon better never come back either because they'll take out every single bit of pain on him for as long as the sorcerer could survive it.

[gaily-daily-musings]

This is the second part of my billford portal era fic which you can read on ao3 here: (x)

Pls keep in mind this is an unfinished rough draft

Ford enters a contest of endurance. He's always held a good exercise regimen. He should fair fine. He could really use the prize money too. Sleeping outdoors holds its appeal for only so long.

He only had the clothes on his back, his leather gloves that had been in his pockets, and a pair of goggles which he'd stolen. he's had to scrap for food. Resorting to stealing more often than not and dumpster diving. He hates the way it makes him feel. He's been getting better at foraging though. But the risk that he may eat something poisonous is always a risk.

At the starting line he comes across a familiar face. Ford's mood instantly sours.

"God not you again."

If there's one person worse than Bill Cipher in the universe it's Rick Sanchez.

"Are you actually competing or are you just gonna steal the prize money?"

"What if I am?" Rick grins.

This man was like if you combined the worst parts of his brother Stan with himself. All ego and no morals.

“Perhaps you should try playing fair for once. Unless you don't think you can beat me?”

Rick's grin turns mean. “Any day of the fucking week pal!”

They gear up and get in line. Ford frowns at Rick's anti grav boots.

“That's not regulation! They are against the rules!”

"Jesus, as much a stickler as always. Newsflash asshole, everyone's cheating!”

Ford looks around. Indeed everyone seemed to have something on their person that they'd slipped into the competition.

“you really outta get laid. It'd loosen that stick up your ass," Rick snorts. "Normally I'd offer but I don't wanna die from nightmares courtesy of your demon boyfriend thanks."

Ford startles. "How...do you know about that??"

Rick shrugs and doesn't answer. How infuriating.

-

They race. A third party wins. Ford and Rick had been too busy fighting each other to notice.

Rick shoots a portal and grabs the prize money from the guys hands before disappearing. Ford rolls his eyes. Typical.

-

“You know you've never asked to use my gun to get home.”

"I don't…" Ford's mind draws a blank. He feels numb in the pads of his fingers.

“Not that I'd let you, mind you, but you've never even asked how to make your own.”

Ford's mind turns over like a pancake. Why hadn't he?

He thinks about returning home. To his empty house in the middle of the woods. Surrounded by anomalies he's already studied. And people who don't understand him.

He thinks about his research which had stagnated. Nothing left for him to do or see.

Does he even want to go back?

Ford's gaze drops to the ground. Was there even a point?

Rick sighs. "Fucking shoot me if I ever get that deep in self denial." he throws up his middle finger and walks away. “Till next time fucker!”

-

After several years Ford can admit to himself a few things.

It is out of some morbid sort of pleasure when Ford finds out that others seem to cower at the mere mention of Bill's name. To know that Ford alone openly defied this powerful being and actually got away with it was a little bit intoxicating. Ego boosting. He'd successfully stopped the portal from opening and pissed off Bill Cipher and then lived to tell the tale.

Back then, in the before, Ford had felt like he could do anything. Be anything. The world--the universe--was at his fingertips. And now...well he still feels like that. Not in the same way, but similar. He feels important in his mission to stop Bill once and for all. He feels like he's the only one smart enough and resourceful enough to do it.

Perhaps that's why they've started talking. Him and Bill. Why Ford even allows it. Because he's unconsciously separated himself from the rest of the galaxy just like he had with humanity on earth. Plus a wise man once said to know thine enemy.”

They argue a lot. But they keep coming back to one another. Year after year neither one loosens their grip on the other.

It's always in the dreamscape. Never in person. They've made a place for themselves there.

They talk about sacrifice. Ford learns that people have sacrificed to Bill before. Offered him their blood. While Bill found blood useless, he found it fun to play with the insides. He thought it was fascinating how fleshy species worked. He would examine the heart, the liver, and pull out the lower intestine. And if they didn't offer willingly, Bill took one anyway. He knows intimately how over 4,878 different species of biology worked. A sacrifice was a chance to learn. And perhaps to have a new toy with permission to rip open.

Ford finds it all horrible. But also unfortunately fascinating. The people he was currently staying with were a subsection Cipher cult. They'd initially captured him, but now they treated Ford with respect. He pretended to be a follower by showing off his tattoo. He hated showing it off let alone acknowledging it, but this was an exception. He'd rather not be killed and eaten thanks.

Across the dimensions, those who swore loyalty to Bill Cipher were either dangerous, insane, or both. Most criminals who associated with him tended to do so sparingly. But the most loyal Bill referred to were his henchmaniacs. they lived with him in the Nightmare Realm. None ever ventured there. These cult people, however, weren't Henchmaniacs. They lived outside Bill's realm.

The rituals are all nonsense as far as he could tell. Ford couldn't believe how ridiculous it was. He wonders if Bill ever crashed these things like a frat boy at a house party. Hopefully not.

Had Ford ever been this cringey in his worship? He winces. He gets why fiddleford had been so fed up now.

They give him a room and a bed. A real bed. It felt luxurious. he knows he can't stay for long or else Bill would come and find him. But he still drags his feet about leaving. the way these people looked at him, like he was important, was intoxicating. No wonder Bill favored this tribe.

Still the sacrifices were wrong. Bill didn't need the blood! Why make them keep doing it?

They get into an argument about morality.

"I don't understand why you need to take over the universe! Why can't you find a new peaceful place to live without hurting anyone?"

"Of course you don't understand you're just a human!"

"Why can't you be happy with what you have?"

"BECAUSE I HAVE NOTHING!" Bill's voice booms like a thunderclap. Ford covers his ears. "You have to scrap and lie and cheat for everything in this world Sixer! People don't just hand you what you want on a silver platter!"

Bill is heaving.

Ford lets his hands fall. His words echo. No, people don't just give you what you want. But Bill did. He offered Ford everything. Everything he ever wanted. His dreams and hopes.

Ford is the only one Bill has ever been physically close to. This knowledge has always sat at the top of his heart. He hoarded it like a secret. It filled him with a sense of importance that he probably shouldn't feel anymore.

And he wonders…

Did Bill share that same light hope? Did he possess a secret joy that Ford was his and his alone?

It still amazed him even now, that this wild untamed creature would come down from the heaven's long enough to let Ford call him “His.”

Instinctively, Ford touches his upper left arm. The tattoo was always covered now. All of his body was. Once upon a time Ford was proud of his choice of ink. Bill wasn't even aware of it. He'd gotten it after the “flirty gal” disaster. Bill had thought that one was hilarious. As angry as Ford had been over that particular incident, it had given Ford the idea to get one that actually meant something.

He'd always meant to tell Bill. But somehow he felt too embarrassed to say anything when the time came. Like it would be taken as some declaration of love (even though it practically had been.) He supposed he was afraid that Bill wouldn't understand the significance of it. That he'd treat it like any other trinket that was made in his name.

"Sure that's great Sixer. But have you seen the pyramids? Best tribute anyone ever made me!"

He didn't want this sacred thing to be undermined. So he said nothing.

Some time after he'd fallen through the portal he'd only looked at it in anger and shame. Wanting to get rid of it but unsure how or who to ask. It would take money which he did not have. And he needed to save every penny for essentials.

Now whenever he looks at it, it feels less like a cheesy couples tattoo and more like a tramp stamp. It is embarrassingly over the top. And the more Ford stares at it the more his cheeks inflame. He'd known on some level what he was doing when he got it. And anyone else who saw it would understand too. This side of the portal he would just as likely be ridiculed for being such an easy target or thrown to the curb in distrust.

“You could have had me.” He finally says.

It's mortifying enough that that alone makes him wake up.

-

It is dark in the cell. They called it an oubliette. Ford's lock picking set had been taken along with everything else. What's so ironic is that he's starting to feel closer to his brother now, millions of miles across space and time, than he has in years.

It's pitch black in here. Its cold. Ford has never been scared of the dark. Has never shied away. Rather he wondered the sorts of things he would find. The secrets he could uncover.

There had been a moment in the cave, after he finished the summoning incantation, that his light had gone out. Nothing happened. But he didn't feel quite as disappointed as he thought he would. The darkness felt almost comforting.

Then the eyes opened and kept opening. Hundreds it seemed. All staring at him. Watching and waiting. He didn't feel unnerved or apprehensive. He felt rather special. That these eyes would turn towards him.

Ford sighs. He could call him. Call Bill for help. He has avoided doing so for 10 years though and has never once admitted defeat. But he's been here for months already. His frail body feels ready to snap. He calls him.

Bill appears in his mind. They're in a library. In truth Ford can conjure any background he wishes. It's his dream after all. But he finds comfort in familiarity. And he has always been most comfortable in a library. Sweet grass under his feet and stars above his head.

Bill floats near him but keeps his distance. He's as weary of Ford as Ford is of him. It could be a trap.

“I need you to get one of the guards to give me a set of keys.”

Bill is not so ready to help. Why should he? What does he get out of it? He's known Ford was here for a while. But he thought a punishment was in order for his human. Served him right for continuously defying him.

“I'm not helping you with the portal.” Ford growls. “And I'm not joining you! Other than that, name your price!”

Bill's eye squints like he's smiling. It was cute the way Ford tried. As if anyone could intimidate Bill Cipher.

Bill makes a show of thinking about it, humming loudly.

“Let me see you.”

It had been quite some time since last they did something intimate. A long time.

“Seriously?”

“You call my name a lot in your sleep. Could be taken the wrong way Fordsy.”

Ford blushes angrily.

Bill stretches into a human form. “I think you rather liked it last time.” He winks.

Ford undresses. He doesn't look at Cipher while he does. He pretends his body isn't responding to the attention. Pretends he doesn't want this. That he doesn't ache for it.

Bill holds him down, having gone eerily quiet. The silence unnerved Ford. Bill was never quiet.

Then a claw touches his back. Tracing up and down. It hits Ford like a comet to the face. The tattoo.

Bill had known. He'd known since that first time in his dream where Ford had felt fuzzy and unreal and Bill laid him out like a feast.

Why hadn't he said anything? No, Ford knows why. Anything would have been taken as a taunt. He would have immediately rectified the mistake had Bill pointed it out.

Ford made up all kinds of excuses. But at the end of the day, he could have gotten rid of the tattoo if he'd really wanted to. The truth was that it brought him a sense of purpose. Bill Cipher was out there and Ford would stop him one day. It was a reminder. They were still held together by destiny.

Something presses against him, hot and burning. Bill's hum thrums throughout him.

"I knew you were still mine." Bill's voice is pleased. The note of possessiveness makes Ford's toes curl.

-

After breaking out of prison Ford takes up with a group of scavengers. He's only been with them for a few weeks before Bill crashes it. as they're out foraging an abandoned spacecraft for parts, Bill takes over someone's body. Ford is a little ways away from the others so they don't notice.

“Bill! What are you doing?! Stop this!”

"Hey Fordsy look how wide I can open my mouth!" he unhinges the jaw.

Ford can practically see the creature's intestines. He grimaces.

Whenever he possesses someone, the gold in his eyes always seems to shine through. Like rays of the sun peeking through the curtains, the physical body unable to contain all of his magnificence.

Ford would be more angry about this, and he is, but he can't risk revealing Bill to the rest of the group. No one ever took kindly to finding out Ford used to be a follower. And no doubt Bill would tell them.

"They're planning on screwing you over by the way."

"What?"

"You're the newbie. They get someone to do all the hard work and then ditch them the first chance they get."

Bill could just be lying. Trying to drive a wedge between him and the rest of the crew. But it wasn't as if they were all buddy buddy. And Ford had a strict policy he adhered to: trust no one.

Bill wanders over to the rest of the group despite Ford's protests. Bill starts trash talking the crew, making everyone antsy and mad.

Ford hisses at Bill to stop but it only eggs him on.

“What's gotten into you?” One growls at Bill.

“Nothing! Just realized I hate all of you! You're lazy and stupid and ugly!”

Bill expects the punch. He doesn't duck. The body is flung backwards, hitting the ground hard. Bill starts to laugh.

Ford, feeling guilty for the body Bill was possessing, steps in to help defend him. As if by Bill's design, they start fighting the rest of the crew together. None of them have the intelligence to realize their friend is possessed nor the patience to soften their blows.

It gets to the point where Ford knows they have to retreat. They fall back to the ship. Bill jumps into the cockpit and starts the engine.

“What are you doing?!”

“Stealing the ship! What's it look like?”

Ford looks back at the rest of the crew banging on the doors demanding to be let in. On the one hand, Ford didn't like the idea of just stealing from them. On the other, none of them were particularly good people and were self proclaimed thieves themselves.

He collapses in the passenger seat as Bill hits the accelerator. He feels a hysterical bubble of laughter push up his throat. Bill joins in and soon they're both laughing. Ford is bruised and bloodied and his head is killing him.

Bill is insane. Ford has always known that. And yet even back then he'd always loved that spark.

"You know," Ford says slowly, "this kind of suits you."

And he means the whole not terrorizing entire populations and tearing apart the universe kind of thing. Just them and their inside jokes. Brilliant minds sharing space.

"Of course I look good!" Bill says with a swagger. "I can pull off any meat sack I wear!"

That had been so far past the actual point Ford was trying to make, but his lips pull up unbidden try as he might to fight it. And then he's smiling openly at Bill Cipher. Laughing at his horrid humor. Bill grins back, like making Ford chuckle is the highlight of his day. He preens at the attention. At Ford's attention. And it just makes Ford want to look at him more. To give Bill whatever he wanted. It's a dangerous feeling.

He should probably tell Bill to get out the body. He feels kind of bad for hijacking the ship as it is. The least he could do is make sure this person wasn't stranded on some strange planet.

But Bill crosses his arms and huffs. "Don't wanna."

Ford sighs. This was going to be a long ride.

-

"No one wants to hold a rose with too many thorns."

The fortune teller's words haunt him. Aside from Stanley and Fiddleford, Stanford had never been close to anyone. It was pathetic. A whopping number of two people in the entire universe. Something had to be wrong with him.

Family was supposed to like you, so did Stanely even count? And Fiddleford had a golden heart. He got along with literally everyone in college. Even the fraternity brothers. They often invited him to socials. Though Fiddleford would turn them down to study with Stanford.

It's moments like these when Ford looks back and wonders whether Fiddleford had done so because he actually wanted to. Or if he stayed holed up in their room to keep Ford company because he felt sorry for him. Because he pitied him.

It was true that Ford had never had the best track record with people. Most of the things he said went over their head. And they never seemed to get his humor either.

Ford threw himself into his books and learned to be content with that. Knowledge was so much more satisfying in the long run. You could always count on numbers and math. But people were unpredictable. People were mean. They were rude and loud and they made fun of his hands.

Stanford has always assumed that it was other people that was the problem. But as he remembers the fortune teller's words at the fair, he thinks back on all his interactions. Was he the problem? Was Ford the one who looked down on others? did he roll his eyes when someone said they were a liberal arts major? Was he the one that used obscure references to historic scientists and scoffed when someone didn't get it?

Ford covers his face and rubs at his eyes. He feels like an ass.

The thing is, Ford doesn't know how to be around people. And for the most part they don't know how to be around him either. Should he say this? Should he say that? Should he point out the weather?

It had been so easy with Bill. Of course, a lot of that was because Bill was just pretending, but even now it was eerily easy to fall back into that rhythm. He feels himself losing sight of his mission. Of what matters.

-

Reverse Falls dimension

Traveling across dimensions, Ford comes across a place that is all backwards.

Bill, or rather Will, has been captured and tortured for years. The other Ford owns the demon and lets the kids play with him for their act in some kind of tent of telepathy.

It's horrifying. Seeing how callous he was capable of being.

The other Ford is friendly with him at first. Gladly inviting him in to sit and talk with him. Ford asks him how to do it. How can he defeat Bill?

The other him tells him that he has to make a weapon. Binding Bill in the same way that he did with Will won't work. Will was an idiot. Bill won't be tricked as easily. the other ford tells him all the materials and how to get them. Ford thanks him.

Before leaving the other him invites him to stay for a show.

“I insist.”

So Ford stays.

It's awful. It's degrading. It's humiliating. He tries to sneak out in the middle of it and just go. He makes it outside. As he rounds the tent to the back, he overhears other Ford talking with his brother Stan. They were arguing.

Apparently he thought this little sideshow was smalltime. They shouldn't be using Will to make money. He was a powerful demon. They should be using him for to take over government and rule the world for example. Stanley was so small minded. Keeping to this backwater town and making chump change with his little Tent of Telepathy act.

He's spotted. Ford freezes.

“Skipping out are we?” other ford says.

“No i…i mean i, um, was just looking for the bathroom.”

Stan glares at him. “Didn't like the show? I put. A lot of work into that you know. Least you could do is watch the whole performance.”

Ford starts backing up. They follow.

“Well it's–I mean it's just a little much for me i think. I'm not sure I was prepared to watch children saw a demon in half.”

"What?” Other Ford asks. “It's not like he has feelings."

The fact that those words are said from a face matching his own horrifies him. Ford has thought that same exact thing before. That Bill was callous and cruel and it was all he ever was and would be. That he did not care for others.

Ford remembers the crumpled form of Will on that stage. He was more or less the same being as Bill. Same powers, same form, same voice. Something had happened differently in this Cipher's past. Or perhaps not differently at all. Perhaps this version had decided to direct his rage inwards instead of out. He blamed himself instead of the universe for his troubles. For whatever it was that he did, the sadness was unbearable.

"He can feel just as much as you or me." Ford says lowly, vehemence rising in his voice. "Just because he looks different doesn't mean he can't feel anything! He has hopes and dreams and regrets just as much as you or I!"

Stanford looks at his double’s face and glares back. His face, his voice, his body, they were all ugly and twisted. "The only monster here is you!"

You.

Me.

Us.

The double pulls back. Blinks. Then breaks into a chilling laugh.

Chase scene

Ford runs. He'd no intention of getting captured here. No telling what these people would do to him.

He doubles back into the tent. Using the element of surprise, he frees Will. he takes the poor thing into his arms and races like a bat outta hell. He runs into the woods praying that they were shaped the same as his own back home. He knew where several good hiding spots were.

He retreats to a cave to catch his breath. Will trembles in his arms.

“It's alright. You're safe now. They can't hurt you anymore. You can come back with me! I can take you!”

The broken triangle shakes, similar to the motion of shaking one's head.

“I can't. My place is here.”

“It doesn't have to be!”

Will looks at him with a sad smile. “I always thought it had it bad, but it looks like I lucked out with my dimension after all."

Ford looks down at him incredulously. "How?? I never did anything like this to my Bill!" He ignores how 'my bill' feels on his tongue.

"It's hard to love you Stanford Pines." He cups Ford's chin and strokes his cheek. "I'd rather know exactly where I stand than be pulled back and forth."

-

When Ford travels back, it takes a moment to adjust.

Bill visits in his dreams as usual. But it's different now. Whereas Will did not hide his pain, choosing to embrace it, Bill hid his under a thick veil of anger and humor. Hating the universe and all therein. Raging and raging because he could. Because it still hurt and it would never stop.

"Heya Fordsy!" Bill says cheerfully.

Ford smiles back. "Hey Bill."

Bill pauses. He must sense something for his single eye squints.

Ford walks closer. He hasn't willingly reached out to him for over two decades. He very much wants to again suddenly. Despite the circumstances, it had felt nice holding Will in his arms.

"You ever think about wearing a tie? Instead of a bowtie?"

Bill reaches up to his little bowtie. "Of course not! Bowties are way more cool!"

Ford chuckles. "You should try it. Just to see."

Bill rolls his eye. He snaps his fingers and there it is. A little black tie. Ford slowly reaches out so as to startle Bill. He touches it. Then he tugs, pulling it towards him. Pulling Bill towards his face.

"See? Looks good on you."

Bill flushes pink.

-

In his quest across the universe he comes across a great being. He asks it one question.

“How can he defeat Bill?”

The axolotl does not answer. That is not the real question he wants to ask, it says. That is not the one in his heart.

But Ford doesn't know what's in his heart anymore. He walks away empty handed.

-

With every dimension he goes to, he finds himself returning to one being. All paths lead back to Bill. His thoughts twisting and turning until they were once again consumed by little yellow triangles.

-

Weirdmageddon

Reunion with his brother. Finding a kindred spirit in Dipper. Knowing that he must follow through with his mission to protect earth.

-

Bill turns the golden statue over. He literally had Ford in the palm of his hand. The world was finally at his feet and yet he was sitting inside. Staring at nothing. This should be his crowning achievement. Everyone was out there partying and having a great time destroying the local buildings and wildlife.

Bill places Ford down. He'd always imagined this moment. A glorifying triumph, a party lasting forever. No limits. No restraints. Finally he would be free. No one to hold him back or hold him down. The freaks, the weirdos, the outcasts, they would make the rules from now on. Let society crumble and be rebuilt.

When had he started to imagine it with Ford by his side?

Ford could have done so well. His human was an outcast too. Attracted to the unknown and the weird. They could have ruled side by side. Bill doesn't offer immortality to just anyone. He didn't do it on a whim. He genuinely wanted to give Ford the world. He's surprised by how much it hurt when Ford turned him down. It wasn't like he didn't expect it. Ford was too pure. For all his dark thoughts and questionable desires, Ford remained a good person despite everything. Despite the years Ford had remained firmly attached to his morals.

-

Piano scene

Tries to seduce him. Bill doesn't know what he's doing. Hadn't known the first time either, it just happened. Now that he's actually trying he feels unsure what to do. what are the right words he can say to convince Ford to join him? Are there any right words that even exist?

-

If Bill could not be the center of Ford's affection, he would be the center of his ire. It didn't matter so long as he held the man's full attention. He wanted to be so utterly wrapped up in Ford's mind he didn't want anything else leaking through.

"You worshiped me!"

Bill spats like an ex lover on a soap opera. He still doesn't understand where it was they'd gone wrong. hasn't Bill shown Ford for years that he's serious? Has he not chased him and helped him and sat and talked? He's been right here for 30 years.

Ford growls back at him, ever defiant. "There's plenty of other gullible people out there! Go bother them!"

"They're not you!"

The words die in his throat. They're not Ford. They're not him.

Bill doesn't want followers. He doesn't even want henchmaniacs. He wants Sixer. His smart, naive, annoying little human. As stubborn as an immovable rock.

-

Resisting him is just as hard as Ford knew it would be. but it's made easier with all the atrocities Bill was currently committing.

Bill comes at him with sweet words and promises. Then when that doesn't work, he comes with rage and threats.

Whenever Bill feels something, he feels it fully and without shame. When he is angry he is fire. When he is happy he is an explosion. And when he loves, it is all consuming. He doesn't hide it away.

Ford knows the truth. Of course he does.

Bill loves him. He loves him.

It steals Ford's breath and aches in his chest. He feels like he's being pulled apart and put back together in equal notions.

-

Erasing Stan's mind

In one fell swoop Ford loses both his brother and Bill. It cracks his heart in half.

-

Therapist

The axolotl has Bill making amends to people he's wronged. It's a very, very long list. He has to write a personalized letter to all of them.

Stan is fishing when a giant axolotl bursts out of the water and floats above the boat. He falls over and hits the deck. Ford runs up from downstairs. He stares at the great cosmic Axolotl.

“It's you.” He breathes.

The axolotl explains that Bill is currently his patient at the theraprism. Ford's heart twists. Bill is alive?

It then says that Bill has written an apology letter.

“It's your choice to read it or not.”

It leaves as swiftly as it came. Stan frowns at the note. Ford crumples it up and puts it in his pocket.

“I'll throw it away later.” He tells his brother.

Stan lifts a suspicious brow. “Why not do it now?”

“You shouldn't litter in the middle of the ocean, Stanley.”

-

“Bill? Stanford Pines has passed away.”

He continues drawing. That's all he did nowadays.

“Are you alright?”

“Time is an illusion.”

Ford was always both dead and not dead.

“We can talk about it later if you want. I'll leave you alone to process.”

There is nothing to process. He can go back and see him at any time. Just as soon as he got out of here anyway.

Bill's crayons break in his hands. He's been holding them too tightly.

-

Bill sits in his cell with his stupid scrapbook looking at his memories.

Curse them all.

Curse them.

Curse him.

-

“Bill?” His jailer calls. “You have a visitor.”

Bill ignores them.

“They said their name is Stanford Pines?”

Bill freezes.

He walks–as he can't float anymore–to the visiting section and scrambles up the chair to sit. Ford stares at him. His hands are clasped before him on the table. They're beautiful.

“Hey Sixer.”

“Hey Bill.”

[ghostingghostingghosted]

Lyons and Tigers and Bears (and Gator too) Oh My!

So I've been a Fargo viewer since S2 and have followed each season relatively closely (except most of S4). Noah Hawley is a sucker for hidden messages and meanings, as well as using symbolism derived from inspiration, such as - as shown in S4 - Alice in Wonderland. Hawley symbolically uses Alice in Wonderland in S5 as much as S4, but with a heavier focus on the dangers - "Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!" Here is an analysis of how some character behaviors entwine with their representative animal's instinct.

SPOILS BEWARE AHEAD

CASE STUDY #1 - WOMEN REPRESENTING LIONESSES

Everyone should know that a group of lions is called a pride. Within a pride, there are multiple lionesses, and one or two male lions which usually have a monopoly on these lionesses. The male lions exploit these lionesses as multiple mates and depend on them for food typically. Mating aspects aside, the group of lionesses are the ones who hunt prey for the pride. Male lions can also hunt for themselves, but I digress with the following statement: when the lionesses are successful in the hunt, they have to eat their share quickly before the male lions come and take the rest of the meat. The male lions have the purpose of protecting the pride from other hostile, wandering male lions, so they're not completely useless.

But that's not the point of this post.

Lorriane Lyons and Indira Olmstead, in my humble opinion, show two sides of a lioness. Their husbands, respectively, represent the male lions and their exploitation of the women's work.

Lorraine Lyons represents the strength, determination, and intelligence of a lioness. I mean, come on! Lyons = lions. Did I just blow your mind with that connection?

Lorraine Lyons has a husband, Mr Lyons. As far as I remember, we don't see him until episode 6 when he's visiting his son, Wayne, at the hospital. Did we even need to know Mr Lyons existed? In my humble opinion: No.

(Tinfoil hat: I thought Danish Graves and Lorraine had something going on, and Graves was Wayne's dad. Secret love affair or whatever.)

Mr Lyons serves no purpose than emphasizing just how much Lorraine works for her, and his, "food." She runs a multi-billion company as a debt collector (or whatever the professional term is). She looks flawless. She has zero time for bullshit. Can't you see she's busy? If it weren't for her, her husband wouldn't have his train collection we later see in the same episode (6). Although she acts like her family is a burden to her, we see in some moments of her immense love for her son: such as her over protectiveness of him and coldness towards the outsider Dorothy, and her love towards her granddaughter, Scotty. Again, in episode 6, we see a brief moment of her smiling when Scotty hugs her father, until she puts back on the facade of HBIC when she speaks with Olmstead. So far, we don't see how she interacts with her husband, which can stand for as its own evidence. Lorraine's scenes with her family and professional life show that they wouldn't be who they are today without her (wo)man power. Another interesting thing to note about Lorraine and her behavior as a lioness is how, even though she doesn't like Dorothy, she still considers her as part of the pride as she's the mother of her granddaughter and her son loves Dorothy. As the idea goes, you're as strong as the weakest link, and Lorraine knows she's better off protected with Dorothy on her side than trying to get rid of her, especially as the season goes on.

(Note: Lorraine had Dorothy committed. Okay, I get that. She still hates Dorothy and wants her gone. However, Lorraine plays the sibling game in that she can bash and ruin Dorothy all she wants - as long as SHE IS THE ONLY ONE DOING IT. When Roy Tillman came around sniffing for Dorothy, she refused to even entertain his wild ideas about responsibility and freedom, and even admitted to keeping Dorothy close because of her being the mother of her grandchild and the wife of her son. She kicked Roy Tillman's ass to the curb with a, "I don't like her, but she's a Lyon now, and you're a dipshit with a 'dead' wife." Rant over.)

Another side note: Regarding Wayne, Lorraine only helps him out in extreme cases of emergency. When he suffers the head injury from electric shock, she makes sure he has the best care and best hospital room. Anything outside of emergencies, he's on his own. While he's not the strong lion we typically picture, Wayne is a lion in his own right. Male lions typically leave the pride when they come of mating age and join another pride of unrelated kin females. Here, Wayne made his own pride with Dorothy and, later, Scotty. By the way, lion prides usually consist of mother-daughter kinship, with a few outsider females and one or two male lions. Wayne still has a long way to go, but we do see him protect Dorothy and Scotty in his own way, such lying for her to the police about her kidnapping, helping her against Gator and his accomplices, etc.

Moving onto Indira Olmstead, she represents the other side of a lioness, which is the exploitation. I won't be nice: her husband is the biggest piece of shit. Even though it would be assault, I wanted her to throw her scalding hot coffee in his fucking face when he went on a tirade about wanting a real wife. Well guess what, fuck face? She wants a real husband. Either go get a job or suck your wife's dick in appreciation. Ya know?

Her piece of shit husband wastes what little money they have on worthless dreams that don't go anywhere. At one point, he wanted to be a famous drummer. Now he wants to make it big at pro golf. He sucks ass. Hard. But that would be a compliment to him. The biggest point of his exploitation is complaining about how Olmstead isn't a wife while eating the food she puts on the table with her income. He doesn't help hunt aka get a job. He doesn't support her. I have a feeling that if Olmstead gets into trouble where her physical being is at risk, he'd run away! Fuck him! Also, he's no doubt cheating on her. Hope he dies. Or gets his dick cut off. One of the two.

CASE STUDY #2 - DOROTHY AS A TIGER

Dorothy Lyons may have taken on her second husband's surname, but she is far from a lion. Several times throughout the season, Munch, and even the narrator in a special episode, calls her as a tiger; in the episode with the narrator, she describes her behavior as the behavior of a tiger. And she is a tiger.

Unlike lions, tigers are not social cats. They are solitary except with mother-cub relationships up to a certain point. We have seen how exceptional Dorothy is at defending herself, especially when she is alone. A pride needs a male lion or two to protect the pride from hostile male lion outsiders. A tiger doesn't have the protection of a pride or pack against the forces of other hostile animals of the same or different species. Dorothy fought off two kidnappers, effectively killing one and wounding the other. She fucks up Gator's accomplices on Halloween through a series of traps and tricks. Later on, she puts up a good fight against the male nurses ready to take her away to the hospital. She outsmarts the FBI detectives. She continually outsmarts Roy Tillman and Gator.

While Dorothy, in her own way, loves her husband, I believe she used him and his family's wealth as a cover at the beginning of their relationship, but only for that extra layer of protection. Later on, she probably developed feelings similar to that of a non-sexual relationship, relying on him as a closely dear friend whom she can trust to protect her and especially their daughter when she isn't around. Anyway, she is cautious because she knows she can only rely on a select handful of people - if that. She goes at life like it's her vs the world, and rightfully so considering Roy's abuse of her during their marriage. Telling of this is how she springs into action when the PTA (?) meeting in E1 descends into chaos and she pulls out a taser on an unsuspecting cop.

CASE STUDY #3 - OLE MUNCH AS A BEAR

I love this character so much, and it's such a shame that everyone is (rightfully so) thirsting over Gator. We get it: pathetic boy with daddy issues and a middle schooler boy personality is cute and all, but when will people wake up and take on the may-be-may-not-be a sin eater from 1522, who is nice to old women, a killer of idiots, and how takes his jobs deadly seriously?

(Don't get me wrong, I like Gator as much as the next person, but everyone is sleeping on the King of the season imo.)

Anyway, I propose that Ole Munch represents a bear. Bears are the king of the forest. They can eat mostly everything, from nuts and berries to full on meat. They hibernate for some months out of the entire year. They can fuck up a full sized moose.

Munch's backstory revolves around starvation: starving so much that eating a deceased's sins is nothing compared to a few gold coins, a loaf of bread, and a goblet of wine - if we take that 1522 flashback as truth, or some part of the truth. Munch can also fuck someone's shit up: exhibit a): the two ranch hands ready to kill him at the Tillman's ranch and breaking Gator's arm; exhibit b): Gator's partner; exhibit c): the old woman's loser son in the latest episode.

When I think of a bear, I think of a creature motivated by food and a lot of it, especially male bears. Bears are one of the higher mammals on the food chain; the only danger to a bear is another bear - or maybe a big cat. Bears wander the forest in search of food, food, food. Unless they have to assert their dominance with another bear in the area, they don't have to worry about costly fights. (If you can stomach it, watch a YouTube video of bears fighting. It's crazy.)

In Munch's early scenes, we see him motivated primarily by money, or in essence, the means to buy food. He only goes out of his way to kidnap Dorothy because Roy Tillman promises him payment, and tries to re-kidnap her by any means, even when she has the upper-hand at the gas station. When he doesn't get paid by Roy, he then sets his sights on fucking with Roy and Gator.

Silent and deadly, but don't fuck with this guy - or shall I say, don't poke the bear. Nothing with Munch is nothing personal. I'd go as far to say him messing with Roy and Gator aren't for personal reasons. Gator keeps insulting Munch right to his face, but he doesn't react at all to it. He only reacts when he doesn't get his payment. Hell, I have a feeling that if Roy tried to kill him after paying him, Munch might not have reacted then, either. He probably would have gotten the hell out of Dodge in search of another job. It's just not worth it when a man's (or bear's) livelihood is at stake as long as food is readily available somewhere else.

Also, Munch always wear brown clothes. The latest is the fur-line neck of a brown coat he took from the old woman. Make of it what you will.

Further, I consider Munch a bear because he "hibernates" like one. When he isn't out causing chaos for Roy and Gator Tillman, he goes back to his place of shelter (aka the old woman's house)and rests there with a cigarette. I don't bother to do the math, but I bet you that half of Munch's time on screen focuses on his "hibernation" at this dark, cave-like home.

RANDOM THOUGHT ON GATOR

Is it just me, but why would Roy name his son Gator? So far, no one calls him by any other name but Gator, so we have to assume Gator is his legal name. Which, imo, is a stupid name.

(Do you think his dad named him after Gatorade? lol)

However, looking deeper, we have menacing characters taking on animal representatives: Lorraine and Indira as lionesses, Dorothy as a tiger, Munch possibly as a bear. Where does (a) Gator in snowy Fargo (or wherever the fuck) fit?

That's the thing: he doesn't fit.

Alligators, as said by the National Zoo website (googled) live in freshwater, slow-moving rivers, and also in swamps, marshes and lakes. Aka, Florida, North Carolina, and Texas. Fargo is the exact opposite of that description: cold, cold, snowy, and cold.

Therefore, Gator Tillman is metaphorically a "fish" out of water. He doesn't belong in this strange environment his father inhabits. He doesn't belong to Roy's idea of what a man should be. Gator doesn't know how to be himself, but he needs to survive and adapt because he's seen what happens when someone doesn't, so he tries to take on the personality of his father - but with heavy failures and setbacks. He isn't built to be like Roy. That's why, in my humble opinion, Gator has that strange name. It's showing how much he, a "Gator", doesn't fit the environment his father created. In the latest episode, Dorothy even mentions this. She says she still sees good in him, but he still wants to be Roy. This implies that a person cannot be Roy and still have goodness in them. The two shalt never intertwine. I'm pretty sure Gator's bio on the Fargo website says something similar to him wanting to become his father, but it never working out in his favor. He wants to be a "winner" or the fittest in survival. But he is struggling hard, and his father is quickly losing patience with him.

Rant over.

Note: Other than the Fargo tv series + movie, as well as some Reddit/Tumblr media consumption, I do not know anything about Noah Hawley or his writing style, inspiration, etc. Also, I did not do much, if any, research on the animals studied here. Everything comes from minimal knowledge. This is purely an opinion.

PS: It's come to my attention that Lyon is not spelled Lyons with an 's' at the end, but simply Lyon. I'm too lazy to fix this issue. Sorry. Also, sorry if there's any incoherent sentences and/or grammar issues. I needed to get this out of my system.

I would also like to say that a lot of my information, ideas, and opinions come from TV Tropes (website) where they have a lot of insightful facts about characters and their personalities, among other things. I suggest checking them out!