#and not being a rude whiny host

[whitedragonwolf4961]

@snowlealee You know this moron and others think Dany just “burns alive” anyone who doesn’t bend the knee to her. But I wonder… what do they think Jon and Sansa would do to any Northern lord who didn’t bend the knee to them? Hmm? After all… didn’t Sansa want to punish Alys Karstark and Ned Umber for their fathers’ betrayal? Oh and Dany gave Randyll and Dickon Tarly the opportunity to bend the knee and keep their lands and titles… despite the fact that they betrayed her ally Olenna Tyrell. Would Jon and Sansa have given Harold Karstark and Smalljon Umber the chance to bend the knee and keep their titles or refuse and die? Or would they have simply executed them for treason? I think the latter is more likely. And like I said this scene was written to make Sansa look like such “a smart political genius” who understand armies need to be fed, despite the fact Dany is a Queen and a military leader who would obviously know that she has to keep her people fed. Hell, in the books she is thinking about keeping her people from starving. But you and I both know Show Sansa is D&D’s little pet and she has to be smarter than everyone so to do that, they dumb everybody else down and have Sansa point out the obvious.

Stark Stans like that guy seem to think the North was some sort of utopia before the Targaryens “colonized” it. Mmm… nope. First the Starks’ ancestors slaughtered the natives, the Children, and actually colonized the land. Then the Starks conquered the North, not by being nice and generous, but by wiping out rival kings and their bloodlines and taking the daughters as “prizes”. And then there’s what they did to the Warg King and his daughters. The Starks have good members but they were also ruthless and that’s how they became the Kings of the North. Not by “consent of the governed” like Show Stark stans and anti Targaryens seem to think. Not to mention the North actually benefited from the Targaryens because they no longer had to worry about Southern invasions now that they were part of a united country. And in the winters they could ask for food and supplies. Also the Targaryens allowed them to keep to themselves. Keep to their religion and culture and traditions. They did however abolish the First Night because that was allowing lords to rape common women on their wedding nights.

And as for the “implied threat”… Sansa was not asking a legitimate question. She was simply making it clear how unhappy she was having “foreigners and outsiders” in her home and acting like they’re gonna be a burden and not the only thing that will save them from certain death. Dany never made any threats. She simply snarked back at the rude host. Aren’t guests supposed to be treated with respect?

I just learned a new (well new for me) take about that dumb show Sansa and Dany scene with the “What do dragons eat” bs. This guy thinks Sansa was asking a legitimate question and not being a rude host while Dany is a terrible diplomat who is making an implied threat because Sansa isn’t kissing her boots. And that Dany isn’t there out of the goodness of her heart but because she’s scared and knows that the Others will kill her if they get past the North. And this moron, they were on Instagram, thinks Sansa is just a good “leader” who wants the North free from “Targaryen tyranny” because of the ratio of 6 out of 17 Targaryen rulers being “mad” (obviously this person didn’t read the lore). Sansa stans and Dany antis keep inventing new moronic ludicrous ways to defend their fave and shit on Dany. Sansa, and of course this is just bad writing to make Sansa look “smart”, should have known Jon was coming home with more people. And Dany, as a leader and ruler, would have known to bring her own food for her army. But of course D&D want Sansa to “look smarter than everyone” by having her be a rude whiny host and start a cat fight with the other powerful woman.

Yeah, I think Instagram!Stansa needs to rewatch that scene.

There we go! :) So... I want to know what about this delivery was genuine? Because all I'm seeing is snark. I don't even have to go into "subtle facial expressions" and mIcRoaGgReSsIOnS ;) But let's continue!

Yes, Dany, the "terrible diplomat". Didn't the Unsullied choose to follow her from Astapor to Westeros after she freed them? Now, I know Dany antis love to argue, "They dIdN'T hAvE anYwHeRe eLsE tO gOoO oR anY oThEr cArEeR oPTIoNs sO iS iT rEaLLy FrEeDoM?" Yes, yes it is, but that's a post covered by other people better than I. Also, then how do you explain smallfolk and their "career options"? And at least she was able to convince Highgarden, Dorne, and the Yara's faction of the Iron Islands onto her side and all on her own steam. Highgarden and Dorne may have joined Dany looking for revenge against the Lannister regime but Dany had honest-to-god face-to-face conversations with those leaders that won them over. And Dany was able to win Yara over on discussion alone, Yara -- a famously stubborn Iron Islander -- who stayed loyal to Dany to the end. Sansa? The Vale's forces came to the Starks' aid thanks to Littlefinger. And middleman Littlefinger arranged that thanks to his perverted attraction to Sansa because of her resemblance to her Tully mother. Littlefinger even takes credit for that in his one scene with Jon in 7x02. Sansa successfully manages to piss off House Mormont and House Glover on the Northern tour in 6x07 before shitting on the one person (Davos) who was able to convince the only Northerners onto their side on-screen. Oh wait, oh wait, yes, Lord Royce decided the Vale forces came "for [Sansa]" in 7x05 while he, Lord Glover and the Northern lords had that casually treasonous conversation about overthrowing Jon for Sansa. Jon, their king, whom they elected only six episodes earlier. (Hey hey, remember when Lord Glover was all like: "House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have for a thousand years. And I will stand behind Jon Snow... THE KING IN THE NORTH!" The North remembers, hey?)

And Sansa just listens and watches this proposed coup against her beloved brother with a smile before she calls them very kind (diplomacy!!!) and says Jon is doing what he thinks is best (getting crucial help against an ever encroaching extinction level event but agree to disagree, right Jon?) ....before Arya emerges from the shadows and is all like, "Diplomacy? Bullshit. You just want them on your side in case Jon doesn't come back."

And the script verifies ✅ And yeah, feeding armies -- not sure how Stansas think Dany's armies and dragons were fed on the journey there... I think Sansa may have a bit of a memory problem because Jon specifically told Sansa before he left for Dragonstone in 7x02:

We know that dragonglass can destroy both White Walkers and their army. We need to mine it and turn it into weapons. But more importantly, we need allies. The Night King's army grows larger by the day. We can't defeat them on our own. We don't have the numbers. Daenerys has her own army, and she has dragonfire. I need to try and persuade her to fight with us. Ser Davos and I will ride for White Harbor tomorrow, then sail for Dragonstone.

Yet Sansa acts like Dany and her armies' arrival is:

And yet the Stansa response to this is...

As for Dany coming North to fight the Others, yeah, she made that vow even before Jon gave her his fealty. As soon as Dany saw the Night King and the army of the dead were real, and as soon as Jon woke up (whom she searched and waited for after he fell below the ice surrounded by wights), Dany vowed to defeat the Night King and his army of the dead. She required nothing of Jon and asked nothing of Jon. Dany was determined to eliminate this threat from the world.

I will argue from a practical standpoint that the smart thing for Dany to do (and Jon and... any leader including Sansa) would probably be to help fight the Others before they start decimating Westeros. The army of the dead would be at its smallest at that point and the living would have its best chance before the AotD started adding corpses to its ranks as it killed its way through the continent. Even if Dany (or Euron) went back to Essos or their island (and I don't know if D&D considered this), water freezes like it did in 7x06 (...D&D). It'd take a while for the Narrow Sea to freeze, I'd imagine, I don't know the extent of the Night King's powers (I don't know if D&D really cared...) but if D&D (or GRRM) wanted.... yeah. This was one of my arguments against the Jonsas' popular Pol!Jon reasoning that, "Jon only sexed Dany up to keep her on side to fight the Night King! Otherwise, her distracted thirst!bot tyrant brain would go right back to fighting Cersei! Jon's dick is the only thing that can keep her under control!!1" (Because it's okay for Sansa to be concerned about Cersei in 7x01 but not Dany, no no no, even though Dany is actively engaged in war with Cersei...) However, when did Dany ever show fear at the prospect of fighting them? And would that at all be unreasonable? THEY'RE ZOMBIES. THEY'RE A GIANT ARMY OF ICE ZOMBIES CAPABLE OF ENDING HUMAN EXISTENCE. IT'S SMART TO BE AFRAID!

And what did Ned say about bravery and being afraid? Further, Dany was the one fighting them out there! She wasn't the one, hiding in the crypts, bitching about the woman, flying on dragonback, literally tackling the Night King! Dany was the one f i g h t i n g!

Dany has own non-Jon reasons to fight the Night King. Practicality, the Night King killed her baby, and Westeros is the country she wants to rule.

Speaking of Westeros, I don't imagine Dany would be comfortable leaving Westeros to that horrible, nightmarish fate. This is the country she wants to better, and to leave in a better place. She can't do that with the Night King turning her citizens into zombies. Zombies suck for quality of life. Finally, as for Targaryen "tyranny", I'd love to know where they pulled their "mad Targaryen/rulers" numbers from. I'd also love to know what they think of the Starks' own history too, their wars against the Children of the Forest, and how they feel about Westeros's feudalism in general which the Starks are very much a part of :) Maybe it needs reminding that Sansa is a feudal leader. Sansa has demanded House Glover and House Mormont honour their original oaths of fealty to House Stark despite House Glover and House Mormont experiencing significant personal losses in the Red Wedding thanks to Robb breaking his oath to House Frey. Despite House Stark losing the North and it returning to the Iron Throne under the Lannister regime. Sansa has also demanded Jon force the wildling refugees he helped save to fight for Winterfell. The 5,000 homeless wildling refugees on the run from the Night King, 3,000 of whom are children and old people. Funny how that is virtually never brought up, isn't it? I wonder how Skagosi feel about House Stark.

[satkru]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : ryomen sukuna x m! reader x mahoraga

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ : mmmmmm yummy yummy mahoraga cock yummy in my tummy

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ - dead dove do not eat: dub - con , mahoragas big juicy meaty cock , megkuna testing out divine general smth smth mahoraga before his and gojos fight , mentions of the reader being similar to sukuna (not being able to die unless his vessel dies) , MAJOR BELLY DISTORTION , mentions of blood and guts , gore basically but in written form , pushy sukuna , sukuna ‘s a cuck lmao , mindbreak

— this fic is mainly for my male audience, but fem readers r free to read as well <3

“yuck , your new host makes you look emo” y/n spat out, cocking his hip to the side with his arms crossed along his chest. Such a comment made sukuna stop mid bite on his food, his eyes carefully scanned y/n’s body up and down, “and who might you be?”.

“quit the act sukuna you know it’s me” once again, sukuna eyed the man closely, trying to see any familiar features, but nothing clicked in his head. “I don’t know you, now run along brat I’ve got important business to take care of” sukuna scowled, he turned his attention back to his final finger, consuming it in one bite.

y/n gritted his teeth, “quit acting like you’re so high and mighty! you do remember me! so stop acting like you don’t!” Sukuna began to grow pissed, the whining coming from the mouth of this random started to press on all of sukuna’s buttons.

“look here brat, if another word comes out of your mouth im going to fucking—” the imaginary dots inside sukuna’s head slowly began to connect to one another, whiny.. rude.. insufferable.. could this possibly be..? “y/n?”

y/n smirked, “finally! some of your fried brain cells seem to be working” sukuna let out a chuckle, “oh my god, it’s been so long!” sukuna stood up from where he was previously sitting.

sukuna made his way towards y/n, his eyes solely focused upon his face. “my goodness, look at your glow up!” ryomen exclaimed “happily”, y/n’s eye twitched, “woww thanks a lot sukuna”. Ryomen saw how much his comment irked the man, which made the cocky smirk on his lips grow even larger.

“what’s new hm? i saw your wife cooking for you in the kitchen, her cooking smells really good” ryomen perked up, “wife? I don’t have a wife?” y/n giggled, “that’s what I thought! you’re not husband material at all, so how’d you get her hm?” sukuna grumbled, “well, she’s not my wife, she’s my chef.. or servant.. whatever she wants to call herself”

“ohh? the great sukuna letting a mere human choose what they are? the times are really changing aren’t they?” with that, y/n snickered at his own words. “not funny” sukuna said as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“so, you got any new.. hm.. techniques with this new body of yours?” Y/n ran his finger through the middle crevice of sukuna’s pecs while resting his other hand on sukuna’s shoulder. “matter of a fact, I did. ever since I took over megumi’s body, i’ve been able to gain the ten shadows technique”

sukuna gloated on the fact that he was smart enough to obtain such a cursed technique, “sounds fun, want to tell me what the ten shadows have to offer?” y/n traced over ryomen’s tattoos, taking in how soft they felt against such youthful skin.

sukuna hesitated, not because he didn’t wanted to talk about the ten shadows technique, but more because he thought he would look like a dork by talking about it. “Well.. there’s nue..”

y/n hummed as he listened to sukuna’s rambles, who knew such a malevolent and violent being such as ryomen sukuna would be such a nerd about a random cursed technique?

sukuna ended his ramble with mahoraga’s abilities, telling y/n about how mahoraga could adapt to 9 different attacks. but the man didn’t care, his focus was only on sukuna’s supple skin and how defined his body had become the last time he saw him.

“i’ve only really seen mahoraga’s abilities once, during shibuya, he surely was.. something” once sukuna had laid eyes on the divine general, he knew he had to have him. And gaining the power of mahoraga became his first mission.

“now that i have him, and since you’re here, i want to show him off to you” y/n gasped dramatically, “oh my! my dearest sukuna is showing off his precious mahoraga to me? what an honor!”

instead of being pissy at y/n’s sarcasm, sukuna just rolled his eyes and chuckled. ryomen ordered y/n to stand back a bit and to “feast his eyes on a once in a lifetime chance to see such a creature”.

“with this treasure i summon..” and just like that, a massive hand reached out from the hole summoned from the ground, then its ring appeared, along with its head and the rest of its torso. After his torso reveal, was its bottom half, two big pair of muscular legs made their way out of the large, dark ditch.

“holy shit.. he’s huge” y/n gawked at the size of mahoraga, he topped over him over a dozen times! “i know right? an absolute unit” sukuna walked over beside y/n, admiring such a sight, “you don’t say..”.

“do you really want to see how much of a unit he is?” sukuna’s lips curled up into a sinister grin, “how?! i can already tell how much of a tank this guy is!” y/n expressed great shock towards mahoraga, pointing out how muscular the being was.

“well, you haven’t seen all of him, yknow?” sukuna snaked his arms across y/n’s shoulders, bringing him closer, y/n turned his gaze to ryomen, “I don’t get what you’re hinting..” sukuna cocked a brow, “you suree?”

y/n shrugged his shoulders with a confused expression on his face, sukuna chuckled as he retrieved his arm back and began to walk towards mahoraga. sukuna pulled mahoraga’s cloth away from his crotch, revealing an inhumanly large cock, it was white down to the base but the tip was colored a pretty pink color.

y/n jumped, a pink flush covering his cheeks, “sukuna! how.. how big exactly is that thing?!” ryomen shrugged, “about a couple inches” y/n was at a lost for words, as the sheer size of the cock in front of him was astronomical. Sukuna pulled on y/n’s arm, dragging him close enough to where he was standing right in front of mahoraga’s cock.

“go on, touch it” sukuna purred into y/n’s ear, “what?! I-I—!” sukuna placed a finger on the man’s lips, “go ahead, I know you want to do it”. ryomen got y/n there, but it wasn’t his fault! with a cock that big, how could you not try to aspect it more precisely?

y/n gulped down his fear and reached out towards the shaft in front of him, the tips of his fingers graced along the base of mahoraga’s cock. It was surprisingly soft, a couple ridges caused by its pulsing veins littered here and there. “move down more would you?”

y/n followed sukuna’s command, almost as if he was under a spell, his fingers dragged along down towards the pretty pink tip mahoraga had. even with such a small touch, mahoraga’s cock twitched ever so slightly.

y/n caressed the tip, taking in how heavy it felt in his hand. If it was possible, the blush on y/n’s deepened, making his face a deeper shade of red. mahoraga’s tip leaked pre-cum, pearls of it dripped from its slit down to the ground.

“he seems to be getting excited, how about you help him with that?” sukuna’s steamy voice slithered into y/n’s ear canal, plaguing his thoughts. ryomen placed both of his hands on either side of y/n’s forearms, guiding him to put both of his hands on the base of mahoraga’s cock.

slowly, y/n jerked off the shaft in front of him with the help of sukuna. “good, you’re doing so well y/n” y/n shivered, ryomen’s praise always got him hot and bothered. “i’ll leave you to it, alright?” y/n let out a shakey and small hum as he felt the warmth of sukuna’s hands leave his forearms.

but, y/n still did what he was asked of, and that was to keep stroking mahoraga, who was now letting out animalistic breathes. As y/n continued to stroke mahoraga, he realized how big he had already gotten. The size of its cock was now way bigger than it was before and was glistening with smeared pre-cum.

“how about you take a taste as well?” sukuna laid his head on the shoulder of y/n, taking in the sweet musk that vaguely stuck onto his neck and collarbone. ryomen placed his hands over y/n’s, guiding them to cup the bottom of mahoraga’s tip and to lift it up enough to where the slit aligned perfectly with his mouth.

y/n hesitated, looking at the tip in front of him and then at sukuna’s shit-eating grin. “I don’t—” “think it’ll fit? don’t worry, you don’t have to take all of it inside” ryomen provided false hope to y/n, knowing he’d always take his word.

ryomen grew impatient with seconds passing by, “just take it in already” y/n whimpered, “but it’s gonna hur—!” sukuna scoffed, “since when has that ever mattered? I know hundreds of curses you’ve taken in, but it seems their size doesn’t matter now?”

y/n pouted, “but this is different!! this thing isn’t a curse! it’s a shikgami!! and there’s no way in taking him inside me in any way!” the man then tried to take a step back, but was stopped when he realized sukuna was not budging. “sukuna.. there’s no way im willingly going to take him inside me…”

ryomen’s frown deepened, “whatever” he took a step back from y/n. giving him enough space to not be uncomfortably pressed against mahoraga’s cock, “since your not willingly going to take him in, i guess im going to have to make you do it the hard way.”

as y/n’s mind was processing sukuna’s words, ryomen had already gave mahoraga the ‘go ahead’ to pick y/n up from where he stood. He squirmed and struggled against the shikgami’s large hands but it seemed nothing fazed it. “sukuna! tell your shikgami to let go of me!!”

puffy tears threatened to spill from y/n’s bottom eyelids as he watched for any possible expression other than smugness on sukuna’s face, but there was nothing. the tears began to flow as y/n realized what was next to come, and with a snap of a finger. y/n felt as if he was being split into two.

mahoraga’s tip probed at the entrance y/n’s puckered hole, “his tip seems a bit cold don’t you think? why don’t you let him inside so that he can warm up, hm?” sukuna snickered, finding himself humorous. “t-this isn’t funny ryomen!! please! tell him to—!” a sudden moan shoved its way out of y/n’s throat and into the air.

such a tip could easily rip a normal human into two, but y/n wasn’t no human, he had “borrowed” his vessel from a random high-school. his vessel was just some plain boy that was stupid enough to release y/n from the binding he had been cursed to.

y/n felt mahoraga’s tip force it’s way into his tight walls, begs and pleads of being released poured out of y/n’s mouth like a waterfall. but it seemed that sukuna was purposely ignoring his pleads just to get a rise out out of him.

y/n’s begs were then plagued by both loud and strained moans, drowning out the pleads that had no effect whatsoever. he wanted to hate how easily mahoraga’s tip touched his prostate, but he couldn’t bring himself to, as the feeling of pleasure was too overwhelming.

mahoraga continued to force himself inside, but y/n’s gummy walls were clamped shut around his tip. making mahoraga resort into one trick up his sleeve.

he pulled out the entirety of his tip from y/n’s hole, making him let out a submissive whimper. y/n thought that this was the end of his punishment, but he was far from right.. as mahoraga shoved his way back inside.

y/n felt both his stomach and liver touch each other, as if to give one another a kiss. his head flew back as he let out a gut wrenching scream, he sobbed out for sukuna, who was now rubbing himself to such a sight in front of him.

“p-pull out! nghh— pull out you monster!!” y/n screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to get the shikgami to react in any way, but there was nothing. none of y/n’s attempts had worked, could this possibly be the rest of his life?

y/n sobbed at the thought of being skewered on mahorgaga’s cock for the rest of his life like a shish kebab, “p-please.. let me go.. i can’t.. take—“ and once again, y/n was interrupted mid-sentence.

mahoraga had no time for y/n’s pleads, he was summoned only to breed and fuck and there was no way he would pass up such an opportunity for another hundred years of inactivity. his thrusts were harsh and brutal, mahoraga’s thighs slapped against the supple skin of y/n, there was no doubt that y/n would wake up the next day with bruises on his arms and thighs.

y/n felt as mahoraga’s cock painfully slid in and out of his hole, against his own thoughts, y/n looked down to see how much damage was being inflicted to his once untouched and youthful skin.

his eye twitched as he watched the outline of the massive cock thrust in and out of him, and for some reason, he found it extremely hot. what was happening to him? these weren’t his thoughts! this isn’t something he’d say in a million years!

could it be? that his mind was finally turning into nothing mush? could this be the punishment he deserved for being a slut? no, he didn’t want to become dependent on some shikgami’s cock just for pleasure!!

y/n felt as his brain melted into the walls of his skull, infusing with the hard bone that protected his once intelligent mind. “i-i.. I can’t.. no.. I don’t wanna.. I don’t wanna stay on this cock for any longer!”

it felt as if he was on a carousel that wouldn’t stop even if he begged the conductor to stop, his eyesight began to fuzz and he began to become dizzy. but through all of this, all his mind could think about was the cock thrusting inside him, and the fact that sukuna was watching him become a cock-sleeve to his shikgami.

y/n was then ripped out of his daze as he heard the disgusting sound of two wet items rubbing against one another, and then his torso became cold and numb. he looked down once again to see his insides outside of his body.

he let out a bloodcurdling scream as he watched his stomach smushed up against his liver, “oh, whoopsies! guess he went a little bit too hard, huh?” even though his friend’s intestines were out in the open, sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle.

“sukuna! i-it hurts! tell your shikgami to stop! please!” even though y/n knew his plead would be ignored once again, it wouldn’t hurt but try to get sukuna to help, right? “you’re doing fine! you’re still talking to me right? you can survive a couple more hours”.

y/n was about to yell at sukuna again, but he felt mahoraga begin to move again, mixing up his organs and misplacing them. his larger intestine was wrapped around mahoraga’s cock like a scarf and his smaller one was uncomfortably smushed against his stomach.

y/n hated the sight, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of mahoraga’s cock, who was still plowing through his insides even through the blood and pre-cum. he tried hanging onto consciousness for as long as he could, but he began to slip, and soon everything went black.

[luciferanalyzestar]

I want to yap about the season two leaks.

Thinking about the beginning of episode that has the Al's backstory. I dislike how petty and childish Lucifer was when talking to Al.

Calling Vaggie the "Host of the Hotel" (Which is new because she is supposed to be the "Protector of the Hotel", will Vaggie get some character development outside of being Charlie's girlfriend??") and calling Al a bitch for dipping after Adam bodied him. Of course, Al had a bail because Adam was a fucking archangel and had the ability to kill him.

Lucifer already does not look like the King of Hell which is whatever but man I wish he acted like one not an annoying overgrown child.

I really like the idea of Lucifer being mean due to his pride and having an ego the size of the solar system. I do not want him to be buddies with the hotel residents, make him unpleasant to be around by being rude to them not just forgetting their names. I want character conflict! I would love a scene where Charlie has to stand up to her father and calls him out on his bullshit. If will never happen because Charlie is a woman and if she talks smack to the fan favorite, she will be seen as a "bitch" or "ungrateful" by the fandom. (The Octivia effect basically).

If I had to rewrite this scene, I would have Lucifer insult Al, making fun of him (not calling Al 'Bambi', that is a corny ass insult) for thinking he had the ability to take on Adam because he is just a Sinner and had no chance to win and instead of sounding whiny, his tone of voice will be like similar when he was talking to Razzle and Dazzle (the 'You Better Be" line.)

Anyway, bitchy Lucifer sucks ass and I hope he fucking dies. /lhj

[kpforpresident]

Prompt idea! The first 300 words of an AU you've never written for before 👀

Lexa’s left eye twitches irritability as she once again feels fat water droplets spray against her feet, interrupting the entirely pleasant nap she’d been having, where she and Ali Krieger had been having a tasteful yet romantic dinner somewhere in the French countryside. Sitting up and shoving her large sunglasses off her eyes with one annoyed swoop, she blinks against the suddenly bright rays of sun that crowd her vision.

It was the perfect pool day at  Polis’s community pool- bright, cerulean sky, a soft, warm breeze, and the temperatures teetering just under 90 degrees. Lexa had seized the chance to sunbathe and read for a few hours on her day off work, shut off her pager, and practically skipped down the street to get settled on a lounger, ready to sip ice water and read sapphic smut until her eyes crossed, all while solidifying her tan in the teeniest bikini she owned.

However, for the past thirty minutes, some little snotty-nosed kid (probably un-supervised and just itching to cause mischief), had been sporadically sending showers of water arching through the air to mist Lexa as she sat innocently in her perfectly positioned chair, placed specifically to get the maximum amount of afternoon sunshine possible. It’s not that Lexa didn’t like kids- she adored Raven and Anya’s adopted son, Aden, with every fiber of her being. However, random children in the general public? Lexa generally avoided them, finding them sticky, whiny, and rude.

Another scattered shower of chlorinated water doused her feet as she felt her patience waning rapidly. Standing up, she felt her eyebrows slide into a glower as she searched for the culprit. Seeing a dark-haired little girl pop up like a seal from the bottom of the pool, a bright smile stretching across her face as she triumphantly popped up, water frisbee in hand, Lexa leveled a finger at the kid, whose smile quickly vanished as she took in Lexa, towering over her on the pool deck, clad in a black swimsuit.

“It’s rude to splash strangers, you know-“ Lexa had begun to grumble indignantly to the little kid, eyes searching for the parent of this clear mischief maker, when the most beautiful woman Lexa had even laid eyes upon swam up beside the little girl, hosting her onto her hip and lovingly smoothing the wet hair out of her eyes before leveling a glare packed with the heat of a thousand suns onto a suddenly stunned Lexa-

“You scold my kid again, you’re going to get a lot more than a little bit of pool water on you, lady.”

[aby55-of-the-ab5o1ute]

This is just gonna be one big vent. with a lot of stuff. I'm not focusing on one thing.

I'm so tired of being host. I'm tired of waking up. I'm tired of existing.

But if I leave then whoever steps up will not only have to deal with that tiredness but also the distance it sets between them and everyone else because everyone only likes Uzi Doorman. Sure some like Vally are liked.. but they don't come close to me. How I can't leave front without "I miss zizi" or whoever fronting feeling a sinking loneliness because of the exclusion since nobody knows our family as well as I do.

Hell even I feel lonely a lot of the time. Unseen, unloved, unwanted. I want to cling to people and never let go. I want to scream and sob and be whiny and be a kid. But I can't. I'm always repressing regression, even when regressed I prevent myself from slipping too young because I lose the ability to speak and probably get really annoying.. cause if I let myself slip that far completely it would mean I couldn't operate anything, like the laptop or such.

I miss how our system use to be. Uncaring of who fronted, no matter their source. Now we have to make sure its something our friends know because it becomes awkward and scary whenever they don't know the source because they're way more distant.

I wish we could be "more of a system". I wish we didn't all mostly act the same with barely any amnesia and I wish everything that happens in-sys didn't feel fake. I wish I could just curl up in Nori's lap and it didn't feel like I was faking it. I hear literally every other system and think "they're so much more real.." like how the fuck are we a system?? Sure you can argue a few alters act different but that's because nobody fronts for more than a few hours besides me. So it could just be us faking the personality differences.

I hate being reminded that everyone else has a life besides us. Everyone else has friends outside of this friend group. Everyone else has things they do beside lie around and rot. Everyone else isn't pathetic. We're a disgusting freak who is sad and fat and ugly and rude.

We're failing at everything. I'm tired of being a failure. I'm tired of having to live up to being a gifted kid like we once were. I'm TIRED OF HEARING "Oh she does so well! She's quiet and nice and polite!" IM TIRED OF IT. WE ARE STRUGGLING. YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING NOTICE.

Life is terrible. I'm done.

If you think we vent a lot then oh you have NO FUCKING IDEA. we keep a LOT of vents to ourself.

[zmediaoutlet]

fic: the spare bedroom

the nostalgia bug has got me good, y'all. And man, it's so much easier to write for a new fandom, haha. For the four of you who might see this --

title: the spare bedroom pairing: Cloud/Barret rating: E length: 5000 tags: Game: Final Fantasy VII Rebirth (2024), Gongaga (Compilation of FFVII), Friends With Benefits, Size Kink, Oral Sex

summary: After getting out of the desert and making their way to Gongaga, everyone splits up. Cloud comes to check on Barret.

(read on AO3)

Cissnei's house is nice enough. Small. A few beds, like maybe desperate folks have crashed here before. A kitchen. Maybe Tifa'll cook something, if they're lucky. Pay back their host for her generosity. From the burn marks on the stove they better not rely on Cissnei to provide.

Barret's not hungry, though. He's tired but he doesn't want to sleep. Piece of shit of a day, worse than just about any he's had in four years. He sits on the bed shoved against the wall in the back room and rests his elbows on his knees, trying to figure it. Between the plate getting dropped and losing his team and the reactor back in Corel blowing and his arm being shot to bloody broken bits—yeah, he's got a list. Previously he'd had the ranking pretty well defined. Maybe on some later day he'll feel less like a sorry sack of shit about the whole thing but right now, every time he closes his eyes he sees that holding shack at the prison, and he feels the hot dust under his fingers, and in his ears, his best friend saying—

"What are you doing," Cloud says. Barret jolts, opens his eyes.

"I'm bo-ored," Yuffie says, from her slump in the living room around the corner. "This town was supposed to have materia."

"It isn't just going to appear midair. I thought you were a hunter. Go find it." Barret snorts. Kid doesn't even sound like he's trying to be rude. Perfectly practical, that's our SOLDIER. Yuffie makes some whiny noise—Barret is truly not looking forward to Marlene being fifteen—and Cloud sighs, and like he's making a great concession says, "I think I heard the GYC guys talking about training with magic. Maybe you can convince one of them to hand something over."

"Really?" she squeals, and then, calling like to a distant friend, "Materia, never fear! You shall be mine!"

Running sneakers on the stone, the front door slamming closed. Barret tips his head back against the wall, watches the afternoon light coming in through the strange stone-hewed windows. Town's nice. Peaceful. If it were some other day he bets he could enjoy it.

Cloud appears in the archway. His lips part on seeing Barret and then he shakes his head. "Figures. Last place I look."

"Ain't everything in the last place you'd look?" Barret says. He stretches his boots out on the stones. "'Cause you'd stop looking then, right?"

Those big, pretty eyes narrow. "Right." Cloud studies his face and Barret lets him. Nearly all his awful secrets are out in the light, now. Don't make sense to pretend otherwise. Anyway, the rest of 'em didn't abandon him in the desert or kill him where he stood, so he figures little fearless leader here isn't about to run him through. Though, really…

"You need something?" Barret says. Better to head those kinds of thoughts off at the pass. "We ain't moving out already, are we?"

Slight head-shake. "Mission break. We don't even know if that reactor's the right place to look. Everyone needs some downtime."

Barret's got enough going on that he thinks he can be forgiven how it takes him a few seconds. Cloud's looking at the ground, his arms folded over his skinny chest, and Barret stares at him in silence until he sees how the kid's ears and cheekbones are going that telltale pale pink. He'd laugh if he didn't feel like his guts had been torn out and left all over the desert. "Don't know if I'm gonna be good company for that, man," he says.

Cloud rubs the back of his neck. "You're never good company," he says, after a second, and Barret's surprised enough to snort. Cloud's mouth tilts, barely, and then his jaw firms. "That was—messed up, today. It shouldn't have gone down like that."

"My best friend shouldn't have been mown down in a hail of bullets by Shinra goons? With it being my fault?" Barret shrugs. "Yeah, guess I'd agree with that."

Strangest look on the kid's face. He blinks hard, shakes his head. Barret frowns—he knows he sounds bitter but he didn't mean to make the kid cry, damn—but after a few seconds Cloud says, softer than he normally says just about anything, "I can't imagine." He stands there, quiet, while Barret takes a full breath, deep in his lungs, trying to clear out the thick tense fucked-up misery that's solid there, all of a sudden, his chest full of iron ore and sandstorms. Then Cloud steps forward, hands loose at his sides, cheeks pink, chin lifted. "Let me help take your mind off it."

"Cloud—" Barret starts, but Cloud gestures vaguely to the rest of town, interrupts with: "Yuffie's out chasing materia; Red's mushroom hunting; I think Cait's charging; Tifa and Aerith are… I don't know, they're doing girl stuff." He tips his head to the side, toward the real bedroom. "I'm betting that door locks."

Barret sighs. "You thought of everything, huh?"

"I try," Cloud says. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth and lets it out slow through his teeth, so it shines in the dim light. Nervous and doing a hell of a job of hiding it, and it might even work if Barret hadn't seen his badass act fail about fifty times by now. "I don't know how to make it better. Maybe it doesn't get better. But there could be an hour that didn't suck."

Damn if the kid hasn't had a 180 in personality from the day they met. Barret's heart's still lead, but—hell, the kid's right. He doesn't want to feel like this anymore. "Long as you promise it won't suck," he says. Feels heavy coming out but, damn, he's trying.

Cloud steps forward between his boots. "Or what," he says, dry.

Barret reaches out, flattens his hand over the kid's chest. The tank's thick wool, surprisingly soft. "Ain't got the energy to mess with you, man," Barret says, more honest than he means to be. Cloud's eyes change, quick as that. He gets a little nod. Barret curls a finger under one of the leather straps on Cloud's armor and tugs. Cloud leans down slow, bending at the waist, pausing for some reason when his breath touches Barret's skin—meeting Barret's eyes, checking, like Barret's some virgin that needs to be gentled—and Barret holds there like a stone until Cloud reaches whatever internal decision had to get made and sinks down the final few inches and kisses him, close-mouthed. Sweet.

He is sweet. Clumsy still, even if they've done this already. Barret holds him by the small of the back over the thick leather brace and lets Cloud take the lead, the weight still dragging at him, but distracted at least—the kid's skin smelling like salt and river-water and the jungle green they waded through to get here and also that weird sharp tang that's always around him, the mako seeping up somehow through his pores. His girl-soft mouth and his girl-soft skin, the touch of wet against Barret's lower lip, his hands warm even through the leather gloves when he frames Barret's jaw, when he sucks in a shuddery breath through his nose, when he makes this tiny deep sound in his chest, like he's tasting something he's been wanting for a while.

Barret's gut wakes, slow. Like it's remembering that he's a man and not just a hollow thing for grief to fill. He presses Cloud's mouth wider, licks his top lip, and Cloud shudders, lets Barret kiss him—deeper—his hands sliding from Barret's jaw to clench in his vest. Then he breaks away—mouth red, wet—and blinks at Barret, and then pulls at his vest, hard, that unnatural strength hauling Barret upright before he's ready so he stumbles forward into the kid, who catches him like it's nothing, and pulls again, until they're in the bedroom, the door slamming behind Barret's back as Cloud pushes him up against it. Cloud has to lift up on his toes and Barret has to bend to get their mouths together again but damn if it's not worth it, with the kid better every time, making those little noises like he's surprised, like he's learning something, like he didn't know he could like it. Hot as hell and not the first time Barret's thought it and certainly not the last, with this warmth building up in him. He was dead ten minutes ago and now he wants—damn, he wants a lot, too much, shit he can't do with responsibility about to come knocking any second, in the bedroom of some stranger's house, with a door that—

"No lock," Barret says, fumbling behind himself. Shit, shit—

Cloud stares up at him hazily, breathing heavy. "Fuck it," he says, rough. "You're a doorstop, right?"

"Screw you," Barret says, surprised into laughing, and Cloud smiles at him and then hooks his sword off that magnet on his back, leans it against the wall—careful like he always is, like the thing that cuts dragons in half will get chipped if he doesn't treat it nice—and then pushes right back in and kisses him, wrapping his arm around Barret's neck, pulling him down enough that it's easy, and then his other hand skimming down Barret's belly to his belt to the front of his fatigues, gripping there, small but firm.

Hell of a lot bolder than he was before. Barret grunts, dips and kisses the kid's jaw, lets his hips curl forward. He's not all the way there but Cloud's curious, feeling the length and the thickening girth and it feels—damn, just right, muffled pressure that's not enough to go crazy over but that feels—like a strong hand gripping his and pulling him out of swamp-muck. His nuts don't mind, that's for damn sure. He drags his fingers down the center of Cloud's back, pressing through the leather, kisses there under the kid's ear and grips his ass in a big handful, squeezes, gets a sweet tiny gasp against his jaw that makes him grin, all unexpected.

"Shut up," Cloud said, and then before Barret can protest that he didn't say nothing at all, he immediately says, "Do you want to—like before?"

Fucking the sweat-damp tunnel between Cloud's thighs, the kid squirming and panting and overcome under his bulk, so hot he's half-surprised the room didn't catch fire. Something that'll be good dreams, as long as he manages to keep his sorry ass alive. Still—"Don't think we can screw up Miss Cissnei's bedroom like that," he says. Regretting it sincerely but also somewhat glad to see Cloud pull back and blink, confused. "Made a mess, creaming you up."

His cheeks are about the color of one of those hibiscus outside, speaking of catching fire. "Right," he says. Just barely unsteady. Barret squeezes his ass again, pulls him in closer against his thigh, and Cloud half-stumbles and—yeah, he's hard too, stiff enough through the uniform that Barret could probably just get the kid to ride his leg, desperate and dizzy with it until he made a mess of himself. And that'd be fun as hell, especially if excuses had to get made about ducking back out to the river for a swim, but Barret's more selfish than that, and, anyway—

"Right," Cloud says again, harder, and then licks his lips, and drops without so much as a by-your-leave to his knees—drops, all at once, hitting the floor with a thud—and reaches for Barret's belt, and Barret's too shocked-stupid to stop him.

Belts aren't complicated and neither are trousers and Cloud's got him unzipped in record time, and that's also when Cloud gets to find out that it's been a long journey and there hasn't been much time for worrying about the delicates. He takes a deep breath and curls his hands into the waistband. "Commando, huh?" He flicks his eyes up.

"You complainin'?" Barret says, spreading his boots. Goddamn, that's a sight.

"I figured you'd need a special sling for this thing," Cloud says, cool as a mountaintop like Barret can't see his ear-tips glowing red under the mess of his hair. He pops the bracer on his right wrist and drags the leather glove off with his teeth, and it's ghostly-pale fingertips on the low of Barret's stomach, dragging down the trail from his navel to the bush he's let grow kinda thick and then touching the root, curious, feeling him all fat and ready. Ready—damn, feels like he could hammer nails—but he doesn't have to wait much longer, with Cloud's fingers peeling back the v of the fatigues and pulling down just enough that his dick—ah—pops free, hanging heavy but hard enough that it's standing out from his hips. Cloud curls his left hand around it—the leather strange and battered-soft—hefts him, fingers barely meeting his thumb—and frowns, and lifts up higher on his knees, and then dips and—presses his lips to the side, over the vein, dry, the heat just—

"Yeah," Barret says, thoughtless, and Cloud glances up at him hot-faced and then closes his eyes, licks instead, his lips dragging stutter-soft up the side of Barret's dick. "Cloud. You done this?"

He holds there with his lips just under the head, bangs hiding his face. Barret fits his hand around the back of Cloud's neck, something twisting so hard and vicious in his gut it almost hurts except that his nuts surge like he could shoot right now, no warning. He slides his thumb up over the soft hollow spot at the top of his spine, feeling the soft puffs of Cloud's breath over the head of his cock—quick, warm. "Wet your mouth," he says, quiet. Tiny space between their skin—he hears the slick noises, Cloud sucking his lower lip—and Barret closes his eyes tight but then opens them again, because hell if he's gonna miss this. "Gotta relax your jaw. Don't try to fit the whole thing. You suffocate, there'll be hell to pay."

"You'd bring me back," Cloud says, absent-minded, and Barret uses the grip at the back of his neck to pull him away—Cloud blinking up at him, startled—but he has to curl down and kiss the kid for that one, knocking his mouth open and really licking inside, pushing his jaw wide, feeling him—wet, yeah, slick and warm and good, and then he stands up again and brushes his thumb over Cloud's smooth cheek and watches him sway softly under that tenderness—what in the hell, every minute's like meeting a new merc—before Cloud licks his lower lip, and bolsters Barret's dick high, and bends to fit his mouth around the head.

Wet shock. Slick, hot—god, there are times Barret prefers this to pussy, of whatever gender. He's too big and most never offer, much less try. Cloud's tongue slicks smooth and strong under the head and Barret grips his hair, presses his hips hard back against the door not to fuck in and maybe actually cause an injury. Little grunt and Cloud pushes down another inch, pulls back, coughs. "Good," Barret says, like a dumbass. "That's good, baby."

"Don't call me that," Cloud says, but he must not mind too much because he licks a sloppy kiss there at the tip and tries again, sliding the tight ring of his lips down and down, the inside of his mouth—he sucks and it's the silk inside his cheeks and his tongue sliding and a hint, ow, of teeth, but with how hard he's trying even that's a kind of harsh hot thing that's swirling tensely at the pit of Barret's belly. Cloud switches hands, gripping with the bare right instead and sliding his left down to hold Barret's nuts, and he laps right at the slit, pressing hard, and Barret—damn, he's trying but he's mortal, isn't he?—fucks his hips forward, chasing it. Knocks into Cloud's throat, makes him yank back, coughing—and Barret does feel like a piece of shit, says, "Damn—sorry, sorry—" but Cloud, being a crazy-ass, says, "Shut up," and kneels up gripping Barret's hips and forces his mouth down. The angle's all off and he hasn't done this or at least hasn't done this with a cock as big as Barret's and he only gets maybe halfway down, but that's insane-making enough, Barret's cockhead threatening the pit of his throat and feeling that tight spasm, his hips pushing forward because he can't not under that demand, closed up in all that heaven. He's so turned around he tries for a second to grab with his right hand, forgetting somehow that it's been gone for four years, and ends up leaving his gun-arm laid heavily over Cloud's back, clanking against his iron pauldron. It's a mind-bending handful of seconds buried about as deep as anyone's managed in years before he remembers he's not supposed to kill the kid and he pulls Cloud away by the hair, his dick emerging into the horrible cold air slick and furious, calling him a fucking dumbass for not leaving it right where it belonged.

Cloud coughs once, slurps spit and air. Barret tips his head back and there are—fuck—tears in his eyes, his face red, his eyes furiously blue. Looking up like it's a challenge and like he's got not a thought in his head, all at the same time. Barret keeps his head still and pushes forward, his dick standing straight out from his hips, lets the cockhead kiss Cloud's mouth. Lets him lick at it, soft-pink and wanting. Pushes past, sliding the sticky-wet along Cloud's bizarrely soft skin, watching the fat dark of it smear along the pale cheek and past, dipping under his ear, brushing the soft ends of his hair until Cloud's lips are pressed to Barret's skin, Barret's nuts against his chin. Barret slides his own fingers against the underside of his dick, brushing Cloud's jaw. Cloud tips his head forward, forehead against Barret's belly. Kisses, careful, at his sack. God, if it were possible. If there were a dozen nights where Barret could hold his head just so and coax him and open his throat, feed in—all the way, past the constriction, in—

He can't wait. He spits in his palm and wraps his fist around his dick, and from lack of options—even crazed-headed as he is he's careful, careful, with the gun, nudging Cloud back with the muzzle against his collarbone—Cloud's eyes opening wide, darker, his jaw dropping—so Barret can feed the head in—just the head, jerking himself, Cloud watching and gripping Barret's hips and then his nuts and then just holding there, cupping Barret's sack and slurping and suckling and licking soft and sweet at the cockhead, this hot urgency in him, wanting it bad enough that he'd choke if Barret let him. Fuck, Barret could choke him. He wrings at his dick, that coil turning in and in and in on itself, tighter and hotter and clawing its way out of his nuts, and he should warn Cloud, should pull him back, should say at least—should say—except it's one of those things he knows, down somewhere deep past every other thing, that no, that this is going to be—that he will—

He bites his lip hard so he doesn't yell out. His hips jerk, once. He follows the pumping release, fisting up and up and up, drives—in—just barely, Cloud gripping his hips and then wrapping his hands over Barret's hand, holding it, letting him pump inside. Cloud's mouth opens and he gasps wetly and Barret watches the white shine on his lip and wrings his dick viciously to pull out another gob of it and then chases that right into Cloud's mouth, forces it back inside when he seems like he might lose it over his chin, and Cloud holds the back of his hand and closes his lips over Barret's thumb and sucks it clean, blurry-eyed, good. Fuck, he's good.

Barret stares at that, for a few seconds. Maybe for eternity. This insane fucker, acting like Barret's giving up the lifestream itself. His tongue pushing hard along the ridge of Barret's thumbnail. How he swallows, and gasps weird around Barret's wet thumb, and then swallows again. Then Barret's brain logs back in, or at least halfway, because he rips his hand away and grips Cloud by the bicep and hauls him bodily to his feet—fucks his tongue into Cloud's mouth for a stolen second to taste himself—bitter, god that's bitter, salt and bleach and Cloud's tongue—and then turns them around, slams Cloud back against the door and goes to his own knees, less gracefully but no less happy to do it.

"What," Cloud says, raw-voiced—god, god, because Barret fucked him there—and Barret says, "You gotta help, baby, can't do this one-handed," and Cloud stares down at him before he fumbles at his waist—rucking up the wide back-belt, peeling open his uniform, and there's—sweet, standard issue Shinra grunt white boxer-briefs with his little dick standing up so hard in them, pushing forward the cotton desperate enough that there's a damp spot at the tip, pink skin shining through the wet. Even kneeling Barret's too tall for this, though—he fumblingly helps Cloud push the trousers and briefs down to his mid-thigh and then picks up one leg, hauls Cloud's knee over his left shoulder to lift him higher—one boot thudding against his back, the other scrambling to brace on the stone floor—and it's awkward, yeah, but at that moment the bed feels a mile away and anyway he can just—"Oh!" Cloud says, as brainless as he's ever been. Barret slurps down, down, to the base—easy—while since he's had the pleasure but it ain't the kind of thing you forget. "What—Barret—"

Barret pulls off, kisses the inches of bare white thigh by his cheek. "Gotta stay quiet, you don't want the whole village coming to see," he says, and when he glances up Cloud's covered his mouth with his gloved hand, staring wide-eyed like Barret's something he never expected to see. Barret'd laugh at how fussed he is—wet-eyed and pink-faced and fluffy-haired as a chick—but it's more fun to grip his tight little ass with his good hand and push him forward into Barret's mouth. Stiff pole of it, leaking all over the place, salt and clean skin and again that strange metal flavor, a tang, somehow all off and weird and addictive all at once. Good mouthful, his nuts a sweet smooth package pulled up so tight to the base he seems ready to shoot, with thirty seconds' worth of decent attention. Barret wants to do him better than that, though, to give back even half of all that good—"Suck," he says, tapping two fingers against the metal back of Cloud's glove. A blink, confusedly hazy. "C'mon, now. My mouth's busy."

Slurped right in, after that. He ducks back down and laps at the smooth sack—truly, he'll never be over how the kid seems to be entirely hairless from the nose down—and kisses Cloud's belly and the knobby little turn of his pelvis where he's too skinny and bites real careful just under his navel, makes Cloud's cock jerk like it's on a damn lead up against the underside of his chin. His fingers are getting what he'd bet would be the gold-star VIP treatment at the Honeybee, Cloud sucking as eagerly as he did dick, and goddamn, if Barret were younger they'd have a real issue on their hands. Even so his nuts are interested, wanting another try.

"Good," he mumbles against Cloud's belly. Another jerk—his dick's pearling clear, oozing. Barret pulls his fingers out of Cloud's mouth and gets a stuttery little gasp, and then a choked noise when he applies them to the red dripping head, smears all the wet around. "Cover your mouth," he says, and Cloud doesn't quite obey but slips his own fingers inside, biting, and that works, too—well enough that when Barret slips his hand around and presses against his asshole the only sound is a chest-deep grunt, not something that'll get shouted to the village and the whole jungle, besides.

Cloud ain't a princess and he's so desperate he don't need coaxing; Barret rubs the wet around, feels him tight, flexing, and doesn't ask before he pushes his middle finger in, quick and all-at-once to the knuckle. Cloud jerks and Barret slurps his dick back in, sucks in little pulses to match his finger fucking in, and Cloud's naked hand fumbles to Barret's shoulder, grips his vest so tight Barret hears a stitch pop. Insanely hot inside. Maybe hotter than other people—those mako treatments, again?—and the ring of muscle clamping hard—and easy, damn, so easy, Barret scrubbing his finger along that front wall where all the good stuff happens and Cloud's breath going strange and high and whiny around his fingers, his thigh flexing over Barret's shoulder and his hips not knowing whether to push back or crush forward. Barret makes it easy for him, encourages the thrust, letting him rock between Barret's hand and his mouth. It feels nice, anyway, right, his lips tight, letting Cloud rock against Barret's tongue pushed flat and hard up against the base, his taste leaking all over 'til Barret's sure he'll only taste that salt-and-metal for days after. He can feel Cloud quickening, though, his tiny noises going deeper, his hips getting desperate, and he crushes his finger in hard and pulls Cloud all the way up against his face, his beard grinding against that smooth sweating skin, his nose crushed in against his belly, sucking, demanding, and—yeah, Cloud's breath stops and his whole body seizes and his bootheel bruises Barret's back and he—shoots, right up into the back of Barret's throat, quick jets that Barret swallows down right away before he pulls back, slurps soft at the head, gets those last few drops. Slippery as mercury.

Cloud's head is tipped back against the door. Fingers still in his mouth, his chest heaving. Barret kisses his cockhead, all flushed and wetly red, and his belly, and then, watching carefully, he tugs his finger out of Cloud's body and then presses back in with two. Thick—he knows, his two fingers are thicker than a lot of men's dicks—but Cloud swallows them up without a whine or a flinch, his body clamping tight but just—taking it. He missed his calling, Barret thinks, and then feels bad for thinking it but—not that bad, really.

"You're so good, baby," he says, meaning it about as sincerely as he's meant anything, and Cloud's eyes open up above and his head drops down, his chin against his chest, meeting Barret's eyes. Not protesting at all. Tilting his hips when Barret grinds his two fingers thick into that spot, his pupils huge and his lips open and everything about him seeming to say—go ahead. Go ahead, make me.

If only. Barret kisses Cloud's belly again, right at the root of his softening dick, and pulls out his fingers and then stands up, bracing against the door to do it. His knees crack, gun-shot loud. Cloud blinks at him, looking up of a sudden with Barret so close, and then gets one of those tiny, goofy smiles.

"Don't you say a thing," Barret says.

"Hm," Cloud says. He looks to the side, where one of the high windows is pouring in that syrupy late afternoon light. "Maybe we can get you a potion, later."

"Man, what'd I say," Barret says, and Cloud grins and then turns back and goes on his toes and kisses him, quick. Just this brief unselfconscious peck, not asking for another thing. He drops back to his heels and he's not smiling anymore but his eyes are soft, and Barret chucks him under the chin, gentle. Dumbass, crazy kid.

He zips up. Cloud gets his uniform back together. In less than a minute, other than how Barret's mouth tastes like cock and metal, looking around the bedroom, no one'd suspect a thing.

Cloud pulls his discarded glove back on, clicks his bracer back together. Twists his wrist back and forth to check the fit. Says, looking down, "You good?"

Barret takes a deep breath. He feels—he doesn't know. It's still this shitty day but it's not worse. His bones feel looser in their sockets and his brain feels somewhat clear and he doesn't—regret at least one thing that happened today. "I'm good," he says. Not exactly true but maybe there's not anything truer.

A steady look, sidelong across Cloud's shoulder. "Good," he says. A little soft. The tip of his tongue touches his lower lip and he swipes one gloved thumb across his mouth, like he's trying not to think about it. If he keeps doing that it's gonna be hell on Barret's composure. But then he settles his shoulders, and picks up that big-ass sword and lets it clank heavily into its place. Looks more like the badass merc he's meant to be. "I'm going to check on the others. If nothing's going on maybe we can rest here, tonight, go on to the reactor in the morning."

"Sounds good to me," Barret says. He opens the door—no one waiting in awkward silence in the rest of the house, thank the planet—and follows Cloud to the entry. Watches Cloud reach for the knob and then grabs his arm. "You—" Cloud lets himself be held still, looking over his shoulder. Barret clears his throat. "You meant it, huh. 'Bout having my back."

Cloud looks at him entirely clear-eyed. No weird tenseness or like he's thinking of ten other things or brooding on whatever dark-ass secrets he keeps locked tight. Just this kid—man, Barret amends—standing there with him. For a minute, steady as a mountain. He nods, once.

Barret swallows. "Hope you know it goes both ways."

A slow breath. "I'm counting on it," Cloud says. Means it, too.

Barret nods back, something settling low at the base of his spine. Something steel-forged, solid. He ain't got a lot of best friends left. He'll do what he can, for this one.

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M

Cressida Thames sat with her legs crossed in the velvet chair, looking rather dressed down in a white blouse and chinos. “So, what should we call each other?” she tested, eying her host, gold chain bracelets dazzling off her wrists. “Cousins, I suppose.”

“We don’t have to call each other anything.”

The Thames heiress tried a different tactic. “Alright then, what about married life? How have you been treating our dear Hannah these last few months?”

“A hell of a lot better than your family ever did. Thanks for asking.”

The acidic bite in Satoru’s tone made it evident he wanted no part of Cressida’s company, despite inviting her into his home, prompting the Thames heiress demeanor to sour more at his slight.

“Splendid. I’m so glad to hear it,” Cressida strained. The heiress was not used to being un-welcomed by strangers. By now, she’d usually have them gobbling out of her well-manicured hands, but knowing she was treading on very thin ice, the English woman averted her focus away from the Six Eyes wielder and back to Nanami and Hannah, who were sitting side by side on the opposite couch. “Sorry, why have I been summoned here again?”

Nanami's patience was rapidly depleting. He wasn’t fluent in English like Satoru and Hannah, but even he knew when someone wasn’t getting the memo. The three of them - mostly Hannah - had spent the last hour and a half informing the Western sorceress of the Sukuna finger in the Gojo’s living room, or at least, they tried to. The proceedings had been less than stellar.

“And you’d like me to help?” Cressida asked after Hannah repeated their predicament for the millionth time.

“Will you?” Hannah piped squeakily.

Cressida glanced at Nanami and then Satoru. “I don’t know, Duch. This seems like a tall order. Even for me.”

Hannah frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, what do you mean?” Satoru rudely butted in. “Enlighten us.”

Cressida rolled her famous ocean blue eyes. “Do you really expect me to sit here and pretend jujutsu and Western sorcerers have always gotten along?”

“But hasn’t that changed already?” Hannah insisted. “The Association and the jujutsu higher-ups are cooperating with each other now. It’s a new age.”

Cressida shook her head. “That may be so, but I’m not part of the Association. Despite what people say, diplomats and aristocrats don’t mix, Duch. If word got around that I was helping and abating ‘jujutsu scum,’ I’d be the talk of the county. My image would be tarnished.”

Satoru shrugged. “Not that we’d care.”

“Satoru, please.” Hannah issued her husband a begging look. He was making things difficult, but her plea went ignored.

“No, this is bullshit.” Still leaning on the doorframe, Satoru crossed his arms and eyed the Thames heiress like a judge issuing a jail sentence. “There’s a Sukuna finger hiding somewhere in the underwater trenches of Itsukushima Shrine. Hannah says you have a curse technique that’ll help fish it out.”

Cressida did not respond and casually flopped her black and gold Chanel bag onto her lap. She opened the lambskin clasps and pulled out a silver cigarette case and lighter. “So what if I do?” she stipulated, slotting a clove cigarette between her teeth, flicking the lighter.

“Then you’ll go fishing.”

She lit the end, pressed her lips to inhale, and blew out the first tobacco puff. “And if I refuse?”

“You won’t,” Satoru snorted. “A lot of people are gonna die if this thing isn’t apprehended in time and someone will have to take the blame. I don’t know about you, but being the ‘talk of the county’ for helping and abating ‘jujutsu scum’ sounds a lot better than being the ‘rich, whiny twat’ who couldn’t do the right thing if her life depended on it,” he shrugged, “but that’s just my opinion. I’ll let you make the call.”

He watched the Thames heiress’ lip curl. “My, such a compelling argument,” she groused, exhaling another breath of smoke. “Tell me, are all you jujutsu sorcerers this irritating, or is it just you?”

Satoru satisfied into a smirk, hands stuffed in his pockets. He said nothing.

The burning white hatred on Cressida’s face could’ve melted diamonds. She eased herself back into the velvet armchair, crossing her legs, cigarette in hand, and stared challengingly at the Six Eyes wielder, looking more like her father than she’d dare admit. “You know, if it wasn’t for that Infinity of yours, I’d have you kneeling at my feet.”

Satoru barked out a laugh. “Is that a proposition? Cause I’ll have you know I’m happily married.”

“Are you? Thank heavens. I was beginning to wonder.” The heiress took a long drag, and uncrossed her legs, slinking from her chair to coily saunter up to the Six Eyes wielder like an alley cat. Fearing a fight, Hannah made to get between them, but Satoru silently waved her off - it’s okay - and so she remained seated where she was on the couch. The two sorcerers, West and East, now stood nose to nose, Cressida’s height shorter than Satoru’s by no more than an inch thanks to her high stilettos (which she still hadn’t taken off). The heiress blew a puff of tobacco right in his face, voice dropping to a low whisper. “I have it you like to get around, Mr. Gojo. Can’t say I’m surprised. After all, plucking the blooms off the rose tends to be your demographic’s idée fixe.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed. “Watch it,” he warned.

Cressida didn’t hide the immense satisfaction from smiling up her lips. “But don’t be too discouraged, love,” she quipped. “I’d never betray Hannah like that and fortunately for us both,” she gave him a once over, “you're not exactly my type.”

The two sorcerers kept eyeing each other down like MMA fighters at a press conference, while Hannah and Nanami observed on the couch. Neither were able to catch what the other had said, only that it wasn’t friendly or polite. Hannah felt the knife in her heart twist. She was hoping the two of them would get along and might’ve voiced this wish had Nanami’s impatient Japanese not broken through the silence first.

“So is she helping us or not?”

The island of Itsukushima, or simply “Miyajima” (Shrine Island), was about an eleven hour drive from Tokyo, rooted in the prefecture of Hiroshima. Only accessible by ferry, visitors would depart from the Hatsukaichi harbor and arrive at the island where the famous 12th century shrine resided within an inlet. The sacred buildings encompassing the shrine were connected through a series of boardwalks, granting people safe passage without them needing to take a dip in the Seto Inland Sea. The shrine’s main attraction of course was the red “floating gate” facing the ocean. Visitors could walk up to the grand o-torii at low tide when the water drained out of the bay, which fluctuated day to day.

It smelled strongly of fresh fish, ocean, and salt. A colony of wailing seagulls ringed the cloudless blue sky. Fishing boats put-puttered down the island coastline and nosed their way into shipless wharfs, men yelling at each other to grab the nets under the eternal surveillance of Mt. Misen. Hannah, Cressida, and Nanami had departed Tokyo by plane and arrived in Hatsukaichi two hours later, 12:05PM on the dot. They took a taxi to board the quickest ferry, which then sailed them safely across to Mijajima, exactly as planned. There was just one problem, and Nanami wasn’t happy about it.

“I should’ve expected as much,” he lamented, glowering at all the people. “They were supposed to clear this place an hour ago.”

Hannah checked the time on her phone. “We are a tad early,” she pointed out and began searching for a familiar head of white hair and a moxie Indian woman. “Satoru and Kumari said to meet us at the entrance.”

The two sorcerers in question had already left for Miyajima before sunrise to secure the area, but there were surprisingly more tourists than anticipated; old ladies holding their umbrellas to shield from the sun; gobs of cheesy couples snapping selfies; a child throwing a major temper tantrum over his toppled ice-cream cone, now a melted chocolate puddle on the stoney hot ground. Tour guides hooked to microphones lead processions of people up and down the stone-blocked path bordering the sea, next to streets of gift shops, townhouses, and traditional ryokanwhere visitors could rest their heads for the night, as families of sika deer dozed peacefully under the pine trees, unperturbed by the throngs of camera-wielding humans passing them by. A small number of Fly Heads were buzzing around the vicinity, but all in all, the atmosphere was calm.

Nanami and Hannah kept a slower pace behind Cressida who was already four leagues ahead. It wasn’t lost on them how seemingly every grown male’s concentration would pivot away from their nagging wives and high-maintenance girlfriends towards the sensual foreign woman strutting up the boardwalk in a bright red sundress and floppy hat. Wearing impractical sandal-wedges and big rimmed Prada glasses, Cressida oozed sex appeal wherever she went. Anyone would’ve mistaken her for a supermodel. Except Nanami. His agitation was thick enough to spread on toast.

“She’s doing this on purpose,” he grumbled to Hannah under his breath. “We’re supposed to be blending in.”

Hannah looked over her shoulder at all the star-struck (male) tourists fawning behind them. She was also wearing a sun hat and shades, but sported a more mauve colored dress instead with white trainers. “Actually, I don’t think she means to,” she said in her cousin’s defense. “It sorta just happens.”

Nanami huffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course.”

Hannah smiled at the quasi-businessman, himself donning a well-tailored grey suit, which wasn’t too eye-catching as many other men were wearing similar suits, though surely the sun and humidity made it uncomfortable. “You’re not much for excitement, are you Nanami-san?” she chimed.

The quarter Dane released a vexed sigh, dabbing his neck with a handkerchief and balancing the unique sunglasses on his nose, cleaver knife concealed in its holster. “I’m not much for spectacles, I’ll give you that.”

“Are you sure you need me here?” Hannah added. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Any clues to the finger’s whereabouts would be appreciated,” Nanami answered, coiffing back his wheat-blonde hair. His cleaver knife was in its sheath. “Being present might spruce up your memory, and as long as Satoru’s around you should be fine.” He spoke under his breath. “Might even keep that overpowered nitwit from doing something abnormally stupid.”

Cressida ushered them to get a move on. “Come along, you two. We’re almost there.”

They soon spotted Satoru and Kumari waiting for them at the entrance in front of the floating red gate. Sunglasses over his eyes, Satoru waved them over, and without thinking, Hannah raced for her husband’s open arms as fast as her legs could run like nothing else mattered. She could hear him chuckling the closer she got. She must’ve looked ridiculous. Satoru didn’t mind. There was no greater feeling in the world than her running to him.

“What’s cookin, good lookin’?” he teased cheesily in English, stretching his arms real wide. His little wife barreled into him and Satoru responded by lifting her up off the ground and swaying her side to side, legs swinging, prompting Hannah to laugh. Satoru grinned like a total sap, but soon frowned upon realizing the dress she had on. “Where’s the flowery one?”

Hannah peered up, face apologetic. In want of some late night entertainment, Satoru indulged himself yesterday evening by selecting her outfit, though apparently the plain mauve substitute wasn’t cutting it. Hannah tried reassuring him. “The flowery one was too bright and Nanami said we needed to blend in.”

Her husband couldn’t omit the whine from his voice. “No fair, I liked the flowery one.” He propped his chin on her soft auburn crown to hide his disappointment. “It was cute.” His turquoise blue eyes flicked over to Nanami fiddling with his phone while Cressida picked the dirt off her fingernails, both ignoring the other. He sighed. “So how was it flying with Miss Sassafras and the Danish curmudgeon?”

“Good,” Hannah replied, nuzzling into his navy colored shirt, glad to be reunited. She loved the smell of his morning coffee and his comforting solidness. “But I missed you.”

But I missed you.

Satoru felt his heart and soul quadruple in size. Could she repeat that? Someone actually missed him? The flowery dress forgotten, he squeezed her tighter. “Aw, I missed you too, Prin — ”

Kumari barged in. “Yes, yes, we all bloody missed each other - hugs and kisses - now can we please get this over with? I have a sick toddler who needs me.”

Quite so. Out of the five of them, Kumari’s reasoning to leave was the most justified. Abandoning her apron, the native Delhite opted for breathable palazzo’s and a peasant blouse, rapunzel raven hair braided down her back, but the makeup and glasses hid her exhaustion. Suffice it to say, the young mother was not happy to be woken in the middle by her toddler son burning a 39°C fever and a cough. Ichiro kept sending her texts throughout the morning, sharing status updates, but little Kichiro’s condition showed no signs of worsening or improving. Her separation anxiety was through the roof. Kumari simply wanted to find this accursed finger, box it up, and take the quickest flight straight home to her baby. She didn’t care for much else, especially the English airhead standing beside them dressed in an offensive red frock that was reminiscent of a wannabe Flamenco dancer. (It was worth mentioning that the Indian arms-dealer also had a 98 cm, double-edged khanda strapped to her back, and was not afraid to use it if provoked).

Nanami exhaled tiredly through his nose and placed his phone in his pocket. “Satoru, what was the hold up? I thought you’d have this place cleared by the time we arrived.”

“Oi, don’t look at me,” Satoru moped, holding his wife. “It's not my fault the police are slow. We notified them two hours ago.” He buried his nose in Hannah’s hair, muttering to himself, “and I better be reimbursed for those plane tickets.” He heard his wife giggle, her small, dainty fingers massaging the taut muscles on his back. He felt sleepy all of a sudden.

“It was your idea we should fly,” she soothed.

“Yeah, I know,” he yawned, closing his eyes and relaxing to her touch. “My own damn fault.”

They didn’t wait too long for the police to arrive. The alibi was that the shrine was closing for religious purposes; a special ritual was to be performed and no tourists could be present. Within twenty minutes they had the area cleared of civilians. Satoru made a quick scan with his Six Eyes to check the place was deserted (police included). He gave a nod to Kumari and the arms dealer rolled up her sleeves and in a quick chant activated a curtain over the entire shrine and beach so the townspeople couldn’t see. The sorcerers were obstructed from view. Cressida stepped up to the plate.

“Right then,” she said, seeing no reason for delay, Latin flowing off her tongue like a river. “Mare benedicta, da mihi instrumentum tuum…”

In a twirl of magic, a bronzed lyre materialized in her hand, though it bore closer semblance to a miniature harp. The memory came quickly to Satoru like a light switch; him sitting in Wasserton House, waiting for Lord Thames and the elders to strike up a deal, surrounded by glittering jewels and hoarded treasures. One of which was a lyre mounted on a wall next to an old grandfather clock. Shiny black strings, too thin in diameter to be copper wires or horsehair. So his hunch had been correct. That lyre or harp, or whatever it was called, was no decorative instrument, but a cursed tool. A cursed tool with Cressida’s matching black hair tithed as strings.

Satoru was holding onto Hannah’s hand. She felt his arm tense and looked up, moss-brown eyes filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

Satoru assuaged her with a quick smile. “I’m fine.”

The four of them watched Cressida strum the first glissando, all twenty twined threads of ebony black provoked by their mistress, switching her thumb and forefinger in circles to create a continuous scale up and down the harp. Up and down. Back and forth. Give and take. Twenty. Forty. Sixty strings it sounded like, their musical notes steadily layering on top of each other, ringing all at once.

The waves along the dock seemed to sway around them, rising to ten-feet swells and then falling, responding to the harp’s melodic enchantment. When Cressida’s hand strummed back, the waves went back. When she strummed forwards, they beckoned closer, edging the shore, amassing to great height with each finished glissando. Cressida thus removed her fingers and soon the harp began playing alone. She soon broke into song, not with words, but with the musicianless harp, her aria accompanying the dancing sea like she were a snake charmer, a moon goddess controlling the tide. And it was something; Perhaps one of the most ethereal sounds they had ever heard, if “sound” was the definition for such a thing.

Satoru and the others watched the sloping waves, climbing higher and higher, though they did not crash into the shore like expected, but rather gently ebbed. Like the water had a mind of its own, choosing to forgo the laws of physics, building without spilling over. Waves only got that big when sailing miles out at sea amidst a powerful storm with no land to stop them from growing bigger. Satoru hadn’t witnessed a curse technique quite like this, or perhaps he had? Music was not new to jujutsu - Utahime and Gramps were proof of that - and yet despite its alieness, something about the sound was familiar. He could hardly feel his own two feet on the ground, song traversing through his ears and into his bones. His brain felt numb to the harp’s playing and Cressida’s hypnosis, drowning out his other senses. Strange. He only ever felt this way when Hannah —

Cressida stopped singing. Everything became calm. She splayed out her hand towards the sea. Water, music, humans, frozen in time.

“Recedo,” she commanded in a voice not solely hers.

Pleased by her song, the water showed its obeisance and began rolling back the direction it had come, back, back, back to the sea, more so than it did at low tide. Given how far the water receded, Satoru feared the locals would think a tsunami was underfoot, but the water only drained from a specific area in the bay, not the entire Miyajima coast, and there was no earthquake. With any luck, Kumari’s curtain would prevent people from thinking anything was amiss.

Nanami glanced over to Hannah to translate. “How long will the water hold?”

Hannah relayed the question in English for Cressida. “I’d say about an hour. An hour and a half. Not very long,” the heiress said with a shrug.

Hannah repeated her answer in Japanese. Nanami grunted. With a curt nod, he turned to face his other comrades. “Technically it rests on Satoru to retrieve the finger, but for the time being we’ll divide and conquer. If anyone finds something, text it in the group chat and wait for Satoru to give the ‘all clear.’ Once he has the finger, it’ll be handed over to Kumari for proper sealing. We’re following protocol. No exceptions. Is that understood?”

Nanami kept his tone neutral like he were reading percentages during a business meeting. Hannah paraphrased his speech as best she could to her cousin.

Done listening, Cressida offered her hand. “Shall we go together?”

“Sure,” Hannah obliged, but felt a gentle tug on her arm.

“Nope, I don’t think so.” Satoru snatched his wife and twirled her around, wiggling his snow-white eyebrows flirtatiously. “You’re comin’ with me.”

“O-Okay.” Hannah's face grew warm, letting him weave their fingers together and pull her in the opposite direction. She didn’t see the triumphant smirk he shot Cressida’s way as they passed by. Nor the heiress’ blatant disgust. He had won this round.

The group split. Nanami to the east, Kumari to the west, and Cressida taking a route in between. Satoru continued walking north with Hannah along the bay, looking back over his shoulder every five seconds till the others were out of sight.

“Finally. Thought we’d never ditch ‘em.”

“Ditch ‘em?” Hannah tilted her head, not sure what he was getting at. “Why would we — ”

At once Satoru’s mouth was on hers, capturing it in an all-too-happy kiss. Hannah was startled by the impromptu lip-lock but soon found her eyes closing, kissing him back, body melting as his arm looped protectively around her waist to draw her inwards. He had left for Miyajima that morning before she’d woken up. They hadn't been separated for five hours, yet it felt much longer.

“Mmm, no reason,” he answered, as he broke from the kiss, lips smacking, and wove his fingers in hers again. Couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin off his face even if he tried. “Okay, now we can go.”

Hannah's profuse blush spread more to her neck and ears, all while not relinquishing his hand.

The underwater trenches of Itsukushima Shrine were deep. Not Mariana Trench-level deep, but deep. On the surface, their depth seemed to exceed no more than three meters before gradually marrying with the ocean; enough for an average person to plunge head first into the burnished saltwater and dive to the bottom. But the island shrine, with its rocky bluffs and pine covered shoals, actually stood atop a valley of gash marks embedded within the reef-beds like troughs, measured at about four fathoms. Once swimmers reached the very end of the bay, they were met with a steep twenty-four feet drop and risked being swept away by the heavy current, the Inland Sea punishing them for their hubris. A more experienced swimmer wouldn’t make it.

Hannah and Satoru stopped where the bay ended and the chasm began. Curious, the Six Eyes wielder lackadaisically kicked a pebble in the hollow trench and watched it disappear. Didn’t make a plop.

Drip, drip, drip.

The jagged rock was slick and slimy from being drained of its watery enclosure. They were high above the seabed. Satoru thought of helping his wife climb down the slippery rock on foot till they reached the bottom, but then hatched an idea. Without warning, he got behind Hannah and bent his knees. “Alley-oop,” he hollered and hoisted his little wife in his arms, bridal-style. She let out a gasp. Much like the kiss, the auburnette wasn’t given time to prepare and nearly had a mini-heart attack when Satoru spun on his heels, grinned real wide, and jumped off the edge like he was at the local pool and not a thirty-foot long chasm.

So they fell.

Hannah managed to eek out a yelp, burying her face in his shirt, clinging onto him like a frazzled squirrel. In seconds they were floating to the ground for a soft landing, Satoru’s Blue and Red manipulating gravity to slow their descent. Falling no more, he set Hannah back on the ground.

“That wasn't funny,” she chided, freckled cheeks glowing red, this time for an entirely different reason. The reprimand hid the fact her knees were buckling.

“To you, maybe.” Amusement twinkled in Satoru’s turquoise blue eyes. “I thought it was hilarious.”

His wife pouted adorably at being laughed at and the Six Eyes wielder couldn’t resist leaning his tall, masculine frame over to plant an “I’m sorry” smooch on her blushing cheek. All forgiven, they webbed their hands together again and continued on.

The carpet of dark green seaweed spurted beneath their shoes, shells and fish bones crunching and cracking. Located in the epipelagic zone, the trench was deep, but not nearly so deep as to prevent sunlight from shining below. This particular kelp forest had thrived under Itsukushima for millennia, nourished by the warm sun and years of “marine snow,” teeming with an ecosystem of diverse wildlife, but Satoru found it weird that there were no flopping fish on the sediment-covered ground, frantically puffing their gills for breath, or other aquatic animals, or cursed spirits for that matter. Had they been swept away with the water?

Those that could exist on oxygen remained. A cast of Chinese mitten crabs skittered across the exposed mudflat, pinching their claws at the trespassing humans, ambling to get away. Hannah thought they were cute and gave them a wide berth, sidestepping the exposed coral, the anemones, the seaweed, the shards of glass and plastic that had drifted because humanity didn’t care. Thank goodness she’d worn trainers, who knew how well Cressida was fairing in those awful sandal wedges?

Hannah wasn’t aware she had voiced this aloud for her husband to hear, receiving an earful about what he thought of the Thames heiress.

“I don’t understand why you feel the need to be nice to her,” he groaned bitterly. “After how her family treated you.”

Hannah squeezed his hand as she narrowly avoided crushing another mitten crab. “She’s your family too.”

“Yuck, no thanks. Tell ‘em family is overrated.”

“People can change, Satoru.”

“Which I’m not disputing, but you said you hadn’t seen her in years and then suddenly she shows up on our doorstep to hand you tiaras? As wedding presents?”

“Cressida’s going through a rough phase right now,” Hannah disputed. “She’s suffered a terrible loss.”

Satoru’s snort conveyed his doubt. “Whatever. I still don’t buy it.” He scanned the ground for clues. “Anything look familiar?”

Hannah sighed and shook her head. They were luckier than when they’d been stuck inside the curse’s Domain at the opera. Here, they could see where they were going courtesy of it being in the middle of the day, making the excursion less foreboding, less unpredictable.

Thames.

Hannah became alert. “What’d you say?”

Satoru turned to face her. His brow framed into an arch. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh, sorry. Nevermind then.”

But it called out again. Raspy and ominous. A whisper.

Thames.

Hannah looked to her right. At the base of an inner wall was a postern, slim and narrow, chiseled out of the rock.

Satoru felt a pull on his arm, his little wife leading him towards the wall. “Princess? You okay?” She kept mum, not saying a peep as she walked him down the narrow path, assuming the lead. Her grasp was firm for someone so small. He didn’t fight and allowed himself to be conducted by her guiding hand. The chasm split in two like a cleft palate. She chose the left fork and pressed onward, past the small seamounts amassed from centuries of seismic activity and magma, past the forests of teeming seaweed and coral. Another left turn. Made a right. Walked through the mouth of a cave, dark and sinister, stalagmite-like protrusion jutting downwards like rows of carnivorous fangs. They became swallowed by the dimness where sunlight couldn’t penetrate.

And there it was.

You could’ve read it straight from the page of a movie script; the third Sukuna finger, shriveled and spindly, lying flat atop a sediment slab like a tribute, a film of skeletal-white sealing wax gauzed around it, perfectly intact. Staying submerged in the saline water seemed not to have altered its appearance whatsoever.

That was all there was inside. No cursed womb. No eighteen missing bodies, their flesh splitting open from being under thirty feet of saltwater like soft-boiled eggs. No hoard of hungry ghouls or freakish beings lurking behind, waiting to pounce. Just the cursed object. Just an index belonging to the strongest sorcerer-turned-curse who ever lived.

Satoru huffed out a laugh. “Well, that was easy.”

Way too easy. Gojo paused a minute for something to jump out at them, block their exit, or both, but neither happened. The finger stayed put on the slab. He leaned over to pick it up.

THAMES.

Hannah also reached out, and Satoru, half spooked, immediately seized her hand.

“Woah there, Hoss, leave that to me.” Hannah wasn't listening and reached out again. With more force, Satoru pulled her back from the undisturbed finger. “Oi, what’s gotten into you?” She looked out of it almost, hazel eyes listless and vacant, reaching for the cursed object the more he tried pulling her away. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Hannah?” Started shaking. “I said enough.” He could see perfectly in the dark. Her pupils were fully dilated, indicating the lights were on, but nobody was home. She wasn’t paying attention and hadn’t spoken a word the whole time, hand grappling for the finger. “Hannah!”

“Huh? Wha?” Hannah came to, snapping out of whatever stupor befell her. She rattled her head and blinked confusedly. “Oh, um, sorry. I'm not sure…I thought I heard…” She swung around.

Perplexed, Satoru also spun himself around, but saw only the cave. “Heard what?”

“Nothing,” Hannah said, hand on her forehead, perhaps feeling a tad dizzy. “I can’t remember.”

Satoru cupped a palm over her cheek and took a moment to study his young wife. Her pupils were back to normal and she appeared unharmed, but her recent behavior left a bad taste in his mouth. A constrict of worry tightened around his chest. He couldn’t relay what just happened, but he knew the sooner he got Hannah out of there, the better.

“C’mon, let’s leave. This place gives me the creeps.”

Hurriedly, Satoru took the finger and stuffed it in his jean pocket, and encouraged Hannah to grasp his hand.

She did.

Kumari painstakingly examined the newly found Sukuna finger, flipping it over at every angle, searching for any indication it wasn’t the real thing or a fluke; decoys weren’t outside the realm of possibility. However, the sealing wax encased around it would’ve been near impossible for non-humans to replicate. No signs of crackage. No tearing. Oh yes, this finger belonged to Sukuna alright. She could practically smell the evil on it like raw sewage.

The cursed object specialist showed her displeasure, glaring daggers at the infernal thing. Kumari didn’t want a repeat episode the last time she brought a Sukuna finger inside her house, and had raised hell in getting the higher-ups to approve her research at Jujutsu High. “This isn’t your grandpa’s grade-4 level sorcery. What’s wrong with you people?” Good news was she didn’t have to take them home with her anymore. Bad news was she’d have to drive down to Jujutsu High to study the damn object at the risk of bumping into her in-laws. Well, beggars can’t be choosers. Her family’s safety was most important. All there was left to do now was box the finger up and pray no surprises trickled in.

Kumari placed the digit inside and closed the lid of her sealing box, clasping the latches, utilizing her cursed technique to “lock” the compartment, only for Satoru to intervene.

“Actually, give it to me.”

She blinked, holding the box. “You sure? This doesn’t exactly make a good table centerpiece.”

“There’s a room in my house meant for keeping cursed objects like this under wraps. The sealing wax hasn’t peeled off yet, so it shouldn’t cause issues. I’ll give it to the higher-ups first thing in the morning.”

The arms-dealer eyed him coolly but nodded. Satoru showed no signs of concern. He was right, of course, the Gojo estate was imbued with powerful protective charms and spells, capabilities far exceeding those in her modern, three bedroom townhouse. It was designed for housing dangerous artifacts. Plus, he was the strongest. Though that didn’t explain what Satoru planned on doing with it.

“Why not give it to them as soon as we land?” she inquired.

The strongest took the box from her hands. “I want to check something,” he answered, tucking it under his arm like it wasn’t a problem.

Kumari didn’t question further. When Satoru had an agenda, there was no sense in arguing. His eyes were fixated on Hannah standing beside her cousin, both their backs to them, staring out into the wide, endless sea, chatting as Nanami maintained distance. Hannah’s long auburn hair shone like shimmering waves of amber silk in the pretty sun.

“It'll be fine,” Kumari heard the Six Eyes wielder whisper.

He’d regret those words for the rest of his life.

Chapter Contents

[whitney7up]

Introducing my 3rd Monkey Wrench Fan-Made character, Natasha Aryal.

She's a Nepalese Snow Leopard humanoid, is 31 galactic years old, and fluently speaks Nepalese, English, Persian, Spanish, Hindi, and German.

She's 7 feet and 4 inches tall.

She has silver fur-like skin with some white furs as well, has a couple of spots around her lower face, has 2 whiskers on her left cheek and right cheek, a small dark mauve colored nose, black curly hair, 2 thin-shaped black eyebrows, 2 yellow-colored eyeballs with black pupils and black eyelids, has a overweight but muscular body, 2 white colored paw-like hands with 4 fingers on each side, 2 white colored paw-like feets with 4 toes on each side, has 16 black claws all together; 4 on her left hand, 4 on her right hand, 4 on her left feet, and finally 4 on her right feet, and a tail.

She regularly wears her standard yellow suit, blue collared shirt, a black tie, and ripped pink pants.

She works as a television host, executive producer, writer, therapist, and social media influencer.

She has her own T.V show called, 'Brighten Things Up with Natasha Aryal' where she'd help many people on how to deal with toxic issues, learn about themselves, and making a anti-bullying segment by encouraging others to always be kind and respectful than being a jerk all the time.

Her show would get very high rankings over the years due to her intelligent conversations, helping anyone she'd meets during her television work, and becoming a good influence on others by spreading positive messages all over the internet.

Her personalities are: Helpful, Immature (Mainly) Mature (Mostly) Well-Meaning, Intelligent, Whiny (Mainly), Rude (Sometimes), Selfish (Mainly), Sweet (Sometimes) Friendly, and Caring.

She likes yellow (her favorite color), helping people, speaking various languages, being famous, wearing suits, salmon (her favorite food), having plenty of fans, red pandas (her favorite animals) and watching gossip videos.

She dislikes bullies, her show getting cancelled (if that ever happens), having toxic fans, losing friends, playing sports (mainly), her hair getting damaged, and unable to make others become good after trying to help them.

[gnfard]

As a former picky eater I can't speak for everyone, but I think what you're perceiving as sulking may just be discomfort and awkwardness around not eating?

Yes, it sucks to be hungry at a gathering and sometimes people are just whiny and a pain to be around because of it, but it can also be disappointing to show up somewhere with the thought of "surely there will at least be some sort of bland cheese-and-cracker appetizer combo that I can snack on to get me through the evening" and find that no, every single food option is out of your reach and there isn't even like, a bowl of grapes. But you don't want to be rude to the hosts by complaining about there not being grapes because that's a silly thing to complain about, so you just try to ignore the disappointment and lie whenever anyone asks if you're hungry. And I think that often comes across as being sulky or belligerent when for me it was always just the fact that I wasn't hiding my discomfort well?

However that said, I agree completely with you that all this would be solved if it were socially acceptable to just bring your own food. I used to eat big meals before going to dinner parties so that I wouldn't be the hungry downer you mentioned, but I would have felt much less awkward if I could have just opened a tupperware of carrots or something and participated in the meal with everyone else.

I think we need to normalise letting picky eaters just pack their own food to every social gathering. Bring a bento box or something.

[multifandomwhore-003]

Sunshine, nice to meet you

Pairing: bisexual! JJ Maybank x bisexual! female! reader because happy pride month

Summary: You stole JJ's snack for the night, and he's not happy about it

Genre(s): pre-smut? Maybe?

Warnings: mentions of weed and alcohol, implied smut (fxf)

Taglist: @pankowfruitsnacks @youdontlikethatdoyoucupcake @fdl305 @rafecameronswhore @prettiestgirlontheblack @barbiekatz @gabiatthedisco @l-o-v-r-s @kaitieskidmore1 join the taglist here

Gif credits to whom it belongs

Part two on the masterlist!

𓆉︎𝙹𝙹 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝙿𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𓆉︎

REQUESTS CLOSED

THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK

Reblog if you like

If there was anyone bitchier than the blonde bitch himself would be 'Sunshine', or at least that's how the entire island called you. It began as a simple family nickname that quickly spread to your friends as nothing more than a tease, but it was tossed around so naturally, you would never respond if someone called you by your actual name, you'd even go as far as introducing yourself as such.

"Sunshine, nice to meet you,"

And there wasn't really any irony with the name and your attitude, you were really a positive and nice energy to be around with, if and only if, you liked the person, you weren't rude, just selective. Well, except with JJ, he's a whole different story, it didn't matter the day or the mood, you always loved to get under your skins, although this time maybe you went a bit too far, which is why you ended up sat down in John B's sink with your back pressed against the mirror and his face fuming right in front of you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, what are you talking about?" you doed up your eyes.

"Don't- don't play innocent with me,"

"I-" you chuckled cynically, "I have no idea what you're talking about,"

It began with a normal and casual party at the Chateau, you know, the ones where all the Pogues come. John was being the perfect host making sure everything was in check, Kiara was debating everyone within a six-feet radius, Poe was trying his best with... everyone really, JJ was eyeing everyone that had a heartbeat, and you were at the center of the living room laughing, joking, making conversation. At one point you caught with the corner of your eye the Maybank boy soothing yet another visitor that was sure to stay the night, something lit up inside you as you machinated the idea of stealing her for yourself, so, when he and John went to get more beer, you didn't waste a second to swoop in his place, you offered her a blunt that you both shared in a quieter place. By the time they got here, you were both nowhere to be seen, until eventually, you both came out of the bathroom, Melissa, poor Melissa as a flushing mess with her lips all plumped, her hair in a tangle, and the straps of her sun dress pushed down; you, on the other hand, came out with freshly washed fingers and a cocky smile, and as soon as you came out of the bathroom, you were shoved inside once again and shortly carried to be placed in a more vulnerable position.

"You know you just cost me tonight's snack, right?"

"Real classy Maybank," you frowned, "But honestly, you should be thankful, if anything she's more than ready to continue with anyone,"

He tilted his head in annoyance, "Do you really think I wanna be stuck being second round?"

"Look, I'm not really looking for one of those dick-measuring contests you men love so much to feed you pathetic pride, mostly because even tho I don't have one it still manages to be bigger than any of yours,"

"You don't say,"

"Well, I mean," you grinned, "I just stole the girl, and she was fine as fuck if I say so myself, but you already knew that," you bragged, "You would've loved her, loud but not too loud, whiny, needy, clearly had a praise kink, and her voice, fuck, I don't think my name has ever sounded better," you bit you bottom lip missing her body details, you had to lay off a little.

He bit the inside of his cheek, "You think you're funny?"

"No, I think- No. I know I'm hotter than you," you pulled a perfectly rolled blunt out of your bikini bra, -neat trick, horrible timing- you thought, because it was indeed perfect, worked every time.

"You're fucking insufferable,"

"Oh, relax, there's like at least 50 girls out there who would love to be dicked down by you," you put it between your lips.

"Go to hell," he took a step back.

"Oh, yeah? And where do you think you're gonna end up ol' sport?" you also took out the box of matches, "Because last time I checked," you lit it up, "Us fags aren't going to heaven," you took a hint, relaxing your head back and releasing the air. You made eye contact again, he was still pissed, "Let it go, pretty boy, what are you gonna do about it, huh? Fuck me instead?"

.

Okay, I know I'm a fucking tease but in my defense, I have no idea how to continue this, please give me ideas for part 2 otherwise I genuinely won't know how to continue

Love y'all

[marvelous-harry]

Harry/Florence/Fem!Reader Dom!Harry, Dom!Florence, Sub!Fem!Reader

Flossie is due home and you want to keep watch. Harry has other thoughts

You and Flossie are in the Late Night Talking music video

Some aftercare after a scene and you're extra clingy

You watch the DWD trailer and miss them both

Harry is overwhelmed cause he is going to play Wembley and feels subbie for Florence.

Night Forty-Three: Love on Tour is back in business and you and Florence are in Glasgow for the opening show

You have a little bit of wine and decide to die your hair

"Please don't be mad"

You have your period and Harry & Flossie looks after you

"I'm sorry I made you worry"

You have a date with Florence and Harry but you're not feeling well

"If you're going to act like a brat, I'm going to treat you like a brat"

You fall into subspace in public

"Aren't we in a good mood today?"

"You've been such a good girl waiting all week for this, darling"

"Ow! Daddy, that hurts!"

"Oh yeah, I took some pregnancy tests,"

"Don't make me ask again"

You and Florence have to go back home and leave Harry on tour

You wake up in the night and see it's snowed.

"Why are you guys so mean to me?"

Harry has a subdrop during movie time. You ask some very important questions. Being sleepy is very very hard Florence wraps up filming sooner than planned and surprises you while you're on tour with Harry. You're supposed to be sleeping but you do a Q&A on Insta instead and get busted. Harry and Florence discover you have a unpaid bill from months ago A Jealous Little Brat: Harry and Florence coo over baby Jack and you are not jealous. Nope. Bratty and whiny cause Harry won't let you suck him off You film a tiktok about the rumour that you've broken up

Harry and Florence take you out for dinner. They're quite handsy. Home Alone: With Harry off on tour and Florence off shooting a movie, a series of meetings for your upcoming book leaves you home alone in London for a few weeks… it results in a lot of takeaways. Harry unexpectedly has a subdrop and Flossie helps him You wake up in subspace and get upset when they're not there Night One: It’s time for the first show of Love On Tour. Harry is packing for tour and you're having a tough time dealing. Cooking With Flo: You join Florence for a 'Cooking With Flo' live stream.. It ends in tears, blood, and lots of cuddling. Happy Birthday: It's the morning of your birthday and the start of your celebrations. A little moment before the guests arrive at a party you're hosting Bathtime with Florence and Harry Your mother calls and ruins the day Homecoming: Harry's been away on tour but manages to schedule in a stop at home. He and Florence surprise you with his homecoming. You come home very late after partying all night Outside picnic ends up 18+ rated "You know I don't like being teased!" You meet a woman at the shop who have a few rude things to say One of their morning routines Discussing your rules as the relationship gets serious One of their nighttime routines Being a brat in public Part two Your first time giving Harry a blowjob Harry and Florence trying to punish you for something you didn't do Caught In a Lie: Part 2 Florence and Harry are very disappointed after finding out you’ve lied about missing your doctor’s appointment. Unsupervised: It’s hard being a good girl when you’ve been left unsupervised for the whole day. Downtime Fun Part 1 Part 2: While waiting for Harry to finish up filming for the day Florence and reader distracts themselves.

[lacrimosathedark]

"One more time" as if I've been having an obnoxious back and forth with you and not responded to you about this ONCE. I wasn't being rude or condescending, so you have NO RIGHT to do either to me. If you're going to be rude instead of having a reasonable discussion, you can shove it, fuck right off, and have the day you deserve.

If you had any amount of reading comprehension, you'd notice I didn't say it was outright wrong to say they aren't divorced, but that it's an exaggeration because while separation does not always mean divorce, divorce always means separation. It's not unreasonable or unrealistic to presume they are divorced when Charlie says they "split" up. "Split" is the word she uses, she doesn't even say separate.

Where the FUCK do you get that Charlie is 200? Because even on the wiki, which often has outdated and no-longer-canon info on there, Charlie's actual age isn't there. It only says that her biological age is equivalent to a human's 20s.

Those portraits don't inherently mean their marriage was happy at that time, especially given other portraits where they clearly are. For one, notice the distance between Lucifer and Lilith, especially compared to these other portraits of the family.

They are close together, physically touching, with open smiles.

In that other portrait, Lilith looks professional and regal more than anything else. Also recall she's a performer; a fake smile for a portrait is easy. And you can't compare Lilith and Stella. Lilith is literally a queen and Stella is a whiny spoiled brat.

And there doesn't have to be malice between them like Stella and Stolas for them to be divorced. I never said Lilith hated Lucifer, just that they could be divorced, so comparing her to Stella is utterly ridiculous. You don't have to hate your partner to divorce them. Amicable separations can and do happen for any number of reasons. I have a whole post about combating Lilith-bashing in other Lucifer ships.

Where the fuck does it every say or imply that painting was in the Hotel and not the Palace? because the signage of the old Hotel looks like it was a theatre of some kind.

See that sign above the door? That's one of those "now playing" signs that both movie and stage theatres frequently use, and I rarely see them anywhere else. And most of the actual hotel part looks almost like it was pasted on top of the theatre, with so many floors having an entirely different window structure, and that there's basically another roof before you get to the apartments. And that's not even mentioning the unorthodox additions, like the carousel, the ship, the radio tower, and whatever dock leads to Pen's blimp. And the arrow signs clearly added by Alastor since 3/5 of them are pointing to his radio tower and the other two are at the front entrance.

Like...what the fuck gives you the impression that this was a manor??? The royal family owned it, but it's full of "tacky circus decor" which is Lucifer's thing, and Lilith is a performer herself who could have sung there.

Why wouldn't they want to host entertainment given who they are? But also, why would they ever entertain in their own home if they didn't have to?

Also, straightforward as she can be, Viv also likes her easter eggs and curve balls and has been intentionally mysterious on all things surrounding Lilith. We genuinely don't know shit. You don't need to be a dick over one word.

Don't be an authoritative jerk if you can't back it up. Google is free.

As a big time Radioapple shipper, I would love it if Radioapple writers didn't like, bash Lilith?

I've seen a handful of writers make Lilith downright abusive. Saying Lucifer's ducks are ridiculous, that his dreams are outlandish, even going so far as to say he's useless or pathetic. This is often used to highlight the difference between Lilith and Alastor when Alastor is shockingly understanding, as if Lilith wouldn't be and is portrayed as and ice queen. Which is nothing like what little we know of her.

The intro says she inspired demonkind. In the pilot, there are posters of her encouraging Sinners to resist against the Exterminations. Charlie is so sure that Lilith would support her hotel. The paintings in Lucifer's office show a loving, happy family.

People who love each other can grow apart without either being outright abusive.

Lucifer's Fall came with a great deal of despair, exacerbated by the cruelty he saw in Sinners. His depression was in direct opposition to Lilith's hopes.

And then there's his AuDHD, which probably leads to him focusing on one thing or another and losing track of time, time he could be spending with his family. Not like he means to be away, it just happens.

And of course he's so socially awkward and Lilith is inspirational, so any "royal duties" probably fell on Lilith's shoulders rather than Lucifer's.

That's a lot of strain on the relationship without either one being particularly cruel or at fault. Just drifting apart.

It's possible Lilith kept Charlie from Lucifer when they split, but there's so many reasons she could have done that. If he got focused on something, he might not pay enough attention to her and she get hurt for example. There's also the possibility of anything Lilith was doing behind Lucifer's back to help Hell have something to do with Charlie.

And Lucifer is still wearing his ring, keeps up family portraits as a reminder. If there was any resentment for her at all, he could have covered up Lilith. We've seen Blitzø scribble out his own face in photographs and scribbled over Verosika on his calendar, and Stolas cover all portraits and revealing only Octavia. It's not out of the realm of possibility. But he didn't and he keeps that reminder of her with him.

And while very much not canon, I've seen Viv like fanart of Lucifer showing his ducks to Lilith and her loving them. Lucifer is adorable and do you think he was any LESS silly before his hopes were shattered? No! If anything, he was probably SILLIER when she fell in love with him. All that creative power and imagination, only scolding to dampen his sparkle, and not scolding from Lilith. He would tell her all about his funny ideas and would she have married him if she didn't love that about him?

Lucifer and Lilith were very much in love at first. The only hint we have that Lilith is actually a horrible person is that the person that is presumably her made some deal with Adam and has been chilling somewhere outside of Hell for the last seven years without telling her daughter anything at all. Which there could be so many reasons for.

And that dark look she gave to Lute doesn't have to be her being annoyed at having to go back to Hell to her family. Lute is a bitch, and also just called Lilith's daughter a bitch. Like...do you expect her to smile at her??? Lute sucks. (for the record, I hate her as a character, which I think means she's a good character. And her voice is AMAZING and I need to hear her sing more after You Didn't Know because WOW)

All that is to say, a separation doesn't have to be from abuse and it can still be hard to move on. AND you don't have to hate your ex to move on to dating someone else.

You don't need to villainize Lilith to make Alastor look good. Part of Alastor's appeal is that he's a complex contradictory bastard. If you want his behavior compared to something to make him look good, use his past actions. If he's getting kinder, sweeter, more understanding, his old antagonism would contrast it. And if you want to use someone else, Adam's right there! And he SUCKS! (I like him as a character tho, he's hilarious)

I don't like shipping Lucifer with Adam, but I know some people do, and I also like the idea that they were friends before everything fell apart. But Adam is all the negative things Alastor is not.

Both of them are prideful, but so is Lucifer. And Alastor generally wields his pride with grace while Adam never shuts the fuck up about himself.

Adam clearly has little to no respect for women, just by how he treats Lilith and Vaggie and even Charlie. Alastor holds women in high regard, and most of the people he seems to have actual relationships with are women, Niffty, Rosie, Mimzy, and even Charlie.

Adam is always talking about sex and bragging about how much he fucks, and says that Charlie and Vaggie's relationship is "hot as fuck" which, ew. Alastor, meanwhile, is (obliviously) asexual, has a general disregard for sexuality, and open disdain for hypersexuality.

Adam is very openly uncouth and brash and rude and constantly swearing. Alastor is vicious, but he is charming and genteel all the while, and swears a whole of three four times in season one. First, the "Fuck you" to Lucifer in Episode Five (it took him that long to swear ONCE), and then twice in Episode Eight, once when first letting loose in his fight against Adam, and second when he was stunned right before getting wounded (edit addition: and also once in Episode Seven when he called Susan an "ornery old bitch" and I have NO IDEA how I forgot that). Adam drops cunt in the first episode.

Adam is also an open book where Alastor is a puzzle hidden behind a smile.

If you wanna compare Alastor, or anyone else you'd ship Lucifer with, to someone he might have been close to from all the way back in Eden times, Lilith isn't the only option there.

Let Lilith say one word before you decide she's evil, yeah?

[an-ambivalent]

WARNING: This post contains yandere and violent themes (mentions of murder and brainwashing) and other toxic and creepy behaviours that can be triggering and uncomfortable to read. So read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional. I do not condone this toxic behaviour irl. 

Fandom: Naruto 

Pairings: Itachi x Reader | Shisui x Reader | Sasuke x Reader

Status: Headcanons and scenarios mixed hybrid, requested. 

Ask:  Scenario where Yandere!Itachi, Yandere!Shisui, Yandere!Sasuke and Yandere!Obito realizes that they all have feelings for you and since they're family, they decided that they are going to share.

A/N:   I’m didn’t add Obito to this scenario because I don’t see this dynamic working with him in the mix. Although Obito is an Uchiha, frankly speaking, Itachi didn’t ever trust him. Sasuke used him for his own means didn’t care about him other than that either way. As far as Shisui is concerned, he never really interacted with Obito. 

Itachi and Shisui are best friends, and Itachi and Sasuke are siblings (who do care for each other). Sasuke is stubborn about his own ideals but he can still be persuaded by Itachi, and given that Itachi and the Uchiha clan respected Shisui a lot, Sasuke would do too. So, a dynamic with these three choosing to co-operate is plausible. But with Obito.... not really. I just don’t see how he would fit in this scenario.  So, hopefully this explanation clarifies why Obito wasn’t added to the scenario.

No beta, we die like men. I wrote this at like 2 am so idgaf about grammar errors atm ^.< 

Your background: To be in a position where you can interact with all these three simultaneously, you would have to be part of the Uchiha clan yourself. The only other way might be that you’re Itachi’s classmate and progressed exactly like he did. But then, it just feels like copying and pasting Itachi’s character and that’s no fun.

No ‘duplicate version of another character’ in this household. So there’s two choices for your background that can nonetheless lead to the same scenario. Thus, you can choose whatever floats your boat: 1) you’re the first daughter of the main branch of another clan of your choice, and for some time now, your clan and the Uchiha clan have been planning to form an alliance together. What better way to do that than to arrange a marriage between the two first children of the main branch from both clans that “coincidentally” have to be the same age?

2) You’re an Uchiha child, born to parents who are from one of the side branches of the clan. There isn’t many other kids to interact with, and despite being a side branch member, your father is one of the most respected shinobi in the clan. So, your future as a ninja is given, and with his interactions and meetings  with Fugaku, he takes you along with him. As a result, your introduction with Itachi is inevitable. And so by extension, you will also meet Shisui and Sasuke. And given your father’s good relationship with Fugaku, mayhaps your parents went ahead and arranged your marriage with Itachi behind your back and not notifying you yet.

PSA: For the age balance, you are Itachi’s age in this scenario. Shisui is 2-4 years older than Itachi and Itachi is 4 years older than Sasuke. Having a maximum of 8 years age gap if you were Sasuke’s age, or Shisui’s age, would be a lot LOL. Besides, Itachi would be the mediator between Sasuke and Shisui, so you building a relationship with him first makes the most sense.

Introduction / Meeting

Itachi

You and Itachi are forced to spend time together as ‘playmates’ while your parents discuss ‘official business’ (the arrange marriage) with Fugaku and Mikoto. Itachi is overly polite but there’s an icy coldness underlining his polite greetings and one-word answers he gives to your questions when you try to start a conversation.

You aren’t dumb. You were raised with high expectations placed on your shoulders so although you’re not a prodigy at his level, you have more than enough intelligence to know that he’s patronizing you. And unlike him, you aren’t an immature coward who hides behind their passive-aggressive remarks. Whatever you have to say, you communicate it bluntly. So, you don’t hesitate to spew out what you really think of him (a coward who takes his frustrations out on others aka you, who is also in the same situation, instead of facing his problems), and leave his pretty boy face behind in shock.

You were five when this happened.

Sasuke: Overtime, your ‘playdates’ with Itachi became a norm. You were forced to visit him many times and spend time with him given that he is your future husband. (You don’t know that yet, but at this point, Itachi has his suspicions that something is up).

His baby brother is his entire life. Sasuke makes him smile in the way no one else does, so its no wonder you met him eventually.

You were first held Sasuke was he was about fourteen months old. He was a small, chubby, innocent little thing with his already haughty attitude. He had no problem crying in the arms of the people he didn’t like, which was almost everyone outside of his immediate family. But when you held him, despite Itachi’s warnings that “he doesn’t like everyone” but he instantly liked you (much to his displeasure), you instantly became attached to him. Then in the following years, you babysat him a lot. He was the cute little younger sibling you wanted but never had, so you spoiled him to bits. And with the attention and love you gave him, Sasuke loved you too. Not to mention, unlike everyone else in his family, who picked Itachi over him, you picked him over Itachi.

How can he not fall in love with you?

Shisui: More often than not these days, Shisui would silently watch and observe Itachi. For a six years old, it was terrifying for him how he was already adapting to the shinobi lifestyle is so easily; being an emotionless robot and extremely talented.

But, over the past few days, gone were the seemingly emotionless robot. Instead, he had changed into a boy who acted like how a six year old was supposed to act: whiny, pouty, and frustrated (to an extent), but happy at the same time. It was entertaining for him to watch Itachi’s expressions shift from one to another every moment as he grumbled about you underneath his breath. Shisui was ready to tease him about it, but you had beat him to it.

You had appeared out of nowhere and were hosting the two-years-old Sasuke on your shoulders for a piggy back ride. No one was given any time to react, before rude remarks were slipping out your lips that just humiliated his precious friend into a fumbling mess.

Itachi had tried to get back at you, he really did. But your mouth ran like a sailor and you had a witty remark prepared for everything. It was such a contrast to the “perfect princess” show you put on before your and his parents. And each time, your response was more embarrassing which eventually made him lose his cool. Seeing him flustered, despite how much he loved you, little Sasuke tried to  jump to his nii-san’s aid. Shisui was prepared to snicker and chuckle to himself, if he it wasn’t for the most beautiful sound he had ever heard: your laughter. It was so raw, pure, genuine and innocent, he was instantly immersed. Barely anyone from shinobi clans, and given how they were raised, acted so open. And you brought out a different side to Itachi -- it was intriguing for him to witness.

He wanted to get to know you more. He wanted to hear your life more. He wanted you to share your secrets with him on how to bully Itachi so easily. So immediately, he put out his hand and gave you a wide grin.

“I’m Shisui. What’s your name?”

Realising their feelings

Shisui: Shisui knew he loved you ever since your first laugh. It was love at first sound. However, with the respect to you belonging to his best friend, he would never make a move on you.

Maybe, there might be some lingering touches here and there that lasted a bit too long between ‘friends.’ Maybe sometimes he was harsher on you during your training spars so he would have an excuse to touch you and help you bandage up your injuries. Maybe sometimes, he ‘jokingly’ wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek to ‘get a rise out of Itachi’ and not because he wanted to touch you.

But he never made a move on you because he knew you were Itachi’s. And as long as you were still his friend and spent time with him, he didn’t care too much.

But he should’ve known better. Just as how he can understand Itachi and cares for him like he is his brother, Itachi is the same towards Shisui. He knew how Shisui felt about you, and although one part of him just wanted to you have all to himself, it didn’t feel right that Shisui had to hold himself back when he needed you too. If only, it wasn’t for your clan, and the Uchiha, and their damn village that believed in monogamous relationships, then he would happily share you with Shisui.

Itachi: There were many rules and obligations Itachi has to adhere to due to his clan. Although he did them, he didn’t want to. He hated it. His thoughts were different from his actions so he was constantly experiencing cognitive dissonance. But, you weren’t part of that. For some reason, when he was eleven and his suspicions were confirmed by his parents and the clan elders that you were set up to wed him when you both turn thirteen, that was one thing he didn’t hate or didn’t want to do. In fact, it was alarming for everyone in the meeting how easily he obliged.

Confirming how he felt towards you, it honestly did not surprise him. He had assumed this was the case for a while. Ever since you called him a coward due to his habit of upholding a facade, he tried to be more honest. Not in front of his clan, evidently, but to the people that mattered. Shisui, Sasuke, you, and himself.

The old Itachi, had he not met you and fell in love with someone, would have buried his feelings without a care. But for you.... it was a different story. He acknowledged his feelings and never tried to get rid off them. How could he? You were the perfect lover for him. You got along swimmingly with Shisui. You took good care of Sasuke, and his younger brother was so attached to you. You were an exceptional kunoichi, put up the perfect facade before your own parents and his, and weren’t afraid to challenge him and speak your mind.

And best of all? You were already promised to him. So, he saw no reason to bury his feelings for you.

Sasuke: Sasuke always knew he loved you.

Ever since he can remember, you had always been by his side no matter what.

His father didn’t pay attention to him. His mother did, but she scolded him too when he just wanted to spend time with Itachi.

Itachi spent time with him but lately, he has been ignoring him. It’s not the same. And him and Shisui always leave him behind to get things done that they say he’s “not mature enough to know.”

But Sasuke does know.

He knows what they talk about his and your back because thinks of those things too. It’s everywhere: princesses, their prince, their love story and happily ever after.

He wants to kiss you to show you how he loves you like the couples in fairy tales. He does. Despite his nerves that are causing fluttering butterflies in his tummy, he builds up the courage to have his first kiss with you.

But you’re faster than him. You just move your head so he kisses your cheek instead, and then laugh out loud before ruffling his hair and telling him, “you’re adorable. But you should save your first kiss for your true love.”

He likes being adorable for you, but why won’t you understand?! You are his first and only love.

There will be a day when you finally understand that.

Sharing You:

ok.... listen.... Uchiha clan massacre (and yours too for scenario A) but both Itachi and Shisui. And although its mission issued by the damn village, that’s not why they’re doing it. It just so happens that its the perfect solution to all their problems because they get rid off the obstacles in their way, and they will have to leave the village. They can take you away far, away from everything, so you only have them left.

Obviously, they will take Sasuke with them too. Except this time, there’s no also hurting and torturing him and enticing him to seek revenge. If anything, when Sasuke is horrified, Itachi tells him the truth. There’s lies as well, but, they would need to brainwash him to some extent so he willingly stays with them. Itachi tells him of how if the clan lived, then he would never get to be with you, or see you again because they were going to hurt you.

“Do you want that foolish little brother? You made big claims to make [Name] yours and protect her, so are you really going to mourn those who were going to take her away from you? She’s my bride, and because I care about you, I will share her. But for that to happen, you need to listen to me and Shisui and not be pathetic as to get in our way.”

Itachi had a way with his words, and it was terrifying how much they could influence Sasuke. And now that they had, and no one else was going to be in the way -- not any clans, the village -- nothing.

It is just going to be you and them for the rest of your life.

[bloody-bee-tea]

JC getting small gifts from his disciples on the anniversary of when they joined the sect (maybe in your Rumor has it verse, if you don't mind)

JC Love Month 2020 Day 3

Home in Lotus Pier

Following after BeeTober Day 24

I don’t mind this at all, so have some disciples gifting thoughtful things to JC on the day he saved them and also some JC/JXY bonus ;)

When Jiang Cheng wakes up he’s surprised to find Jiang Xiuying not in bed with him. It causes him to grumble, because Jiang Cheng really prefers to wake up to his love in his bed, but he guesses there is nothing to do about it.

So he gets up, and gets ready for the day alone, same as he normally would—as he did for years before Jiang Xiuying became a fixed point in his routine—but he hates every second of it.

It must be evident in the frown on his face, because when he makes his way to breakfast, people keep out of his way and Jiang Cheng is glad for it.

He had no problem functioning in the morning for the last years, but now that he usually has Jiang Xiuying by his side in the morning he forgot how to be a normal human being without him.

Jiang Cheng is almost ashamed to admit it, but he misses his morning kiss and he is not at all too happy that he has to do without it, apparently.

His angry frown turns into a confused frown when he sits down for breakfast and finds a box next to his bowl of congee.

“What is this?” he asks into the room, because someone is bound to be around, but he doesn’t get an answer and Jiang Cheng heaves out a sigh.

He tugs the box close and opens it and he’s surprised to find that his favourite tea is in it. It’s hard to come by lately, as it is entirely seasonal and only grown in a small spot in Sect Leader Yao’s territory, and after everything that happened at the Cloud Recesses a few months back, he already mentally said goodbye to it.

He wouldn’t be getting any more supplies from Sect Leader Yao after all.

“What is this?” Jiang Cheng asks again, but it’s softer this time, more questioning, and he’s not at all surprised when arms suddenly encircle him from behind.

“Good morning,” Jiang Xiuying says into the skin on his throat and follows it up with a short kiss as well.

“You left me alone,” Jiang Cheng immediately says, entirely aware of how whiny he sounds, and Jiang Xiuying squeezes him.

“I know, and I’m sorry. But there was a problem with Fu Zhihao and she didn’t want to talk to anyone else.”

That immediately makes Jiang Cheng tense.

“What happened?” he asks, already half up in case there is anything he has to do, but Jiang Xiuying pushes him back down.

“She had a flashback or something similar,” Jiang Xiuying tells him. “Woke up terrified out of her mind and Jiang Sushan is out of town as you know. They thought it would be best to call me.”

“Good thinking,” Jiang Cheng says because Jiang Xiuying’s calm presence has helped Jiang Cheng with dealing with volatile demonic cultivators a lot in the past, so he gets that urge.

“How is she now?” Jiang Cheng asks when Jiang Xiuying doesn’t volunteer more information and he shrugs.

“As well as you’d suspect. She remembers where she is now, but the episode left her shaken,” he says and Jiang Cheng nods, because of course it would leave her shaken.

“Anything I can do?” he asks, even though he trusts that Jiang Xiuying would have already told him if there was anything for him to do.

“I trust you to know how stupid that question is,” Jiang Xiuying says, rather predictably, and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at him.

It brings his gaze back to the box with tea and Jiang Cheng pulls it close again.

“Do you know where this came from?” he asks Jiang Xiuying, who pouts at him.

“You’re not even asking me for a kiss?” he says and Jiang Cheng feels that is entirely unjustified.

“You’re the one who left before I woke up and who made me get ready without my morning kiss. It only feels fair,” Jiang Cheng gives back and Jiang Xiuying tugs him close, just like Jiang Cheng secretly hoped.

“Duly noted,” Jiang Xiuying whispers right against his lips and then finally brings their lips together.

Jiang Cheng is aware of how cheesy it is, but it’s only then that his day starts to feel right.

“You’re entirely too spoilt,” Jiang Xiuying mutters when they part and Jiang Cheng shrugs, totally unrepentant.

“And whose fault is that?” he wants to know, because it is Jiang Xiuying who spoils Jiang Cheng with his love, and who seems to know that well enough because he doesn’t reply to his question.

“So the tea?” asks again when Jiang Xiuying settled down across from him.

“I’m not sure,” Jiang Xiuying says, which means he damn well knows where this tea comes from but is entirely too unwilling to tell Jiang Cheng.

“Rude,” Jiang Cheng says but he keeps the box close by his side.

It is damn good tea after all.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng doesn’t entirely forget about the tea, but it goes very far into the back of his mind with how much he has to do.

There are a few of the minor Sects who want to make up for their previous mistakes, so Jiang Cheng hosts them as graciously as he can with a glowering Jiang Xiuying to his right, but he’s glad to see that a few relationships are mended.

When two minor Sect Leaders come by shortly after another, Jiang Cheng is almost too busy to notice the bottle of his favourite alcohol that somehow turns up at dinner.

“Xiuying?” Jiang Cheng calls out when he realizes that it is really the alcohol from a small town in Qinghe and he takes a moment to savour the flagrant smell of it.

“What, my beloved?” Jiang Xiuying says, completely unashamed and Jiang Cheng flushes slightly, like he always does.

It’s kind of a problem, if Jiang Cheng is being honest.

“Stop that,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, and Jiang Xiuying dutifully nods, even though they both know damn well that he will not stop it.

“Where does this alcohol come from?” Jiang Cheng asks to distract himself and Jiang Xiuying smiles before he shrugs.

“From Nie Huaisang maybe?” Jiang Xiuying suggests and Jiang Cheng frowns.

“Unlikely,” he gives back. “He would have given this to me personally, because if there’s a gift from him, there’s also something he wants,” Jiang Cheng says, because Nie Huaisang has never given him anything without a demand.

“I don’t know then,” Jiang Xiuying replies, his tone implying that he does know where it comes from and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at him.

“You’re lying to me,” he accuses him and Jiang Xiuying is by his side a second later, pressing an apologizing kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I promised to keep it a secret, until you figure it out,” Jiang Xiuying explains, and that is a bit better than being outright lied to.

“I see,” Jiang Cheng whispers and pulls the bottle close to pour a cup out for Jiang Xiuying as well.

Jiang Cheng has an inkling of what is happening, especially given the date today, but it doesn’t quite make sense, so he keeps his thoughts to himself.

“You already know,” Jiang Xiuying slowly says but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“I suspect,” he corrects and Jiang Xiuying laughs.

“But you don’t trust it,” he says, and Jiang Cheng is surprised to hear a wistful note to his voice, almost as if he’s sad.

“Not yet,” Jiang Cheng says and mentally calculates when the next gift should arrive if his suspicion is right.

He almost hopes it’s not, because he doesn’t understand why that would warrant being given a gift. But he’ll just have to wait and see.

~*~*~

When the next gift arrives, Jiang Cheng is not entirely too surprised, because it goes along with his expectations.

Especially when he sees that it is a small vial of a potent cream Jiang Sushan has developed that soothes the scars on Jiang Cheng’s chest when they act up.

It’s hard to make and Jiang Sushan always loudly declares she doesn’t have the time to make more should Jiang Cheng have even a tiny fraction left but Jiang Cheng knows that Fu Zhihao has been working in the infirmary almost since she came to Lotus Pier.

It’s not entirely impossible that Jiang Sushan taught her how to make the cream. And it’s not entirely impossible that Fu Zhihao took entirely too much time out of her schedule to make it for Jiang Cheng.

“You look unhappy,” Jiang Xiuying rightfully says when he finds Jiang Cheng holding the pot of cream and he comes over to smooth the frown out from Jiang Cheng’s forehead.

“Is this from Fu Zhihao?” Jiang Cheng asks, even though he knows the answer already.

“Maybe,” Jiang Xiuying says with a small shrug and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“This is so stupid,” he complaints. “What is it even for?” he demands to know and Jiang Xiuying levels him with a look.

“Do you really have to ask?” Jiang Xiuying wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods.

“This is so time-consuming to make, I should know, because Jiang Sushan bitches to me about it every single time she has to make it. Fu Zhihao has only been helping Jiang Sushan for the last few months; why would she focus on this, instead of learning some practical things?”

“You are really goddamn stupid sometimes, do you know that?” Jiang Xiuying shoots back and Jiang Cheng pouts at him, because he has found that it is a very effective way to stave off Jiang Xiuying’s ire.

“Do not even start with that,” Jiang Xiuying grumbles but leans in to kiss Jiang Cheng, just like he had hoped. “You truly are spoilt.”

“By you,” Jiang Cheng gives back and threads their fingers together, because Jiang Xiuying is close enough and because he can.

Jiang Cheng has half a mind to go and find Fu Zhihao to ask her why she feels the need to make this, but he figures it might not be the best idea.

Fu Zhihao is still skittish, doesn’t trust anyone but Jiang Sushan and Jiang Xiuying, though she doesn’t seem to mind Jiang Cheng much, but Jiang Cheng still thinks it would be a bas idea to go there and question her.

And besides, if he is right about this, then the next gift should show up in a few days and it should be from Jiang Xiuying who he can question that much more easily.

For once in his life, Jiang Cheng decides to wait.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng realizes his mistake when he wakes up to beautiful red wedding robes on his bed. Jiang Cheng’s breath catches as soon as his eyes fall on them, and Jiang Xiuying takes the opportunity to slide back into bed behind him, and hug him to his chest.

“Good morning,” Jiang Xiuying whispers and peppers kisses over Jiang Cheng’s shoulders, even as Jiang Cheng reaches out with a shaking hand to touch the robes.

“What is this?” Jiang Cheng asks, his voice trembling and Jiang Xiuying huffs out a laugh into Jiang Cheng’s neck.

“I trust you to be more clever than this,” Jiang Xiuying says and Jiang Cheng cranes his head to look around to Jiang Xiuying.

“Why? Why today of all days?” Jiang Cheng asks because that he doesn’t understand.

“What better day than today?” Jiang Xiuying shoots back and Jiang Cheng breaks out of his arms to turn fully around to him.

“You do know the significance of the dates,” Jiang Xiuying says when Jiang Cheng stays silent and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“I know the dates, but I don’t understand.”

“What’s there not to understand?” Jiang Xiuying asks, his whole face going soft in a way that Jiang Cheng is entirely too weak against. “Tell me.”

“The first gift was from Luo Ganting,” Jiang Cheng starts and it makes sense, that he would get that tea for Jiang Cheng, because after the whole thing at the Cloud Recesses, he reconciled with his sister, as far as Jiang Cheng knows.

“The alcohol came from Zhou Nuan,” Jiang Cheng goes on.

Zhou Nuan is one of the few Nie disciples that turned to demonic cultivation and that Jiang Cheng reached soon enough to save her.

“The cream is from Fu Zhihao and the robes are from you,” Jiang Cheng finishes with a whisper and he reaches out for the robes again.

“I just don’t understand why,” Jiang Cheng admits.

“But you do know the dates,” Jiang Xiuying says again, and of course Jiang Cheng knows the dates so he nods.

“It’s the dates I found you, when I took you to Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng confidently says, but he frowns when Jiang Xiuying shakes his head.

“No, this is where you’re wrong,” he says and pulls Jiang Cheng into his embrace again. “It’s the dates you took us home,” he says with emphasis.

And this, Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand.

“Those were the worst days of your lives,” he argues. “I really shouldn’t be getting gifts for this.”

“Those days are the start of our new lives,” Jiang Xiuying gives back and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s temple. “We nearly died on those days, yes, and it was objectively the worst, but then you saved us, and you took us home with you. You gave us a home, and so those days also mark the starts of our new lives. Our lives as your disciples. And that, my beloved, is something to celebrate.”

“You are all so sentimental,” Jiang Cheng sighs out but he has to bite back some tears as well.

“You’re one to talk,” Jiang Xiuying chides him. “You’re the one who remembers when all of us came to your Sect.”

Jiang Cheng has nothing to say to that, because Jiang Xiuying is right, after all. He remembers all of the dates.

But it still leaves one question.

“So, what is this?” Jiang Cheng asks, leans more firmly back against Jiang Xiuying, and he tugs the robes close.

They are exquisitely made, Jiang Cheng knows enough about clothes to know that, and Jiang Xiuying huffs out an annoyed breath.

“Really? You really have to ask that?”

“Well, I don’t want to reach the wrong conclusions,” Jiang Cheng says with a small smile and Jiang Xiuying warningly squeezes him.

“What wrong conclusion could there possibly be?” Jiang Xiuying demands to know and Jiang Cheng slightly turns to smirk at Jiang Xiuying.

“You could always be asking for my blessing as a Sect Leader to marry someone else,” Jiang Cheng says, and the words don’t even hurt that much, because Jiang Cheng is not so insecure to think that they are the truth.

Jiang Xiuying is probably going to have his head for even daring to suggest this and going by the angry flush he can see on Jiang Xiuying’s cheeks, he’s not that far off.

“Sure, I usually am in the Sect Leader’s bed to beg for some blessing,” Jiang Xiuying bitingly gives back and then he deflates. “Don’t be stupid, my beloved,” he whispers.

“I’m not,” Jiang Cheng reassures him. “I just maybe want to hear you say it,” he then admits and puts his hands on top of Jiang Xiuying’s. “Indulge me?”

“Always,” Jiang Xiuying says and presses a kiss to the soft skin under Jiang Cheng’s ear. “My beloved, will you marry me?” Jiang Xiuying then asks without hesitation or sweet words and Jiang Cheng turns around in his arms at that, straddling his fiancé and he puts his arms around Jiang Xiuying’s neck.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng tells him and then immediately leans in for a kiss.

There is not much to say between them after that, and they are too busy trading kisses to even think of something anyway.

The red robes get a little bit wrinkled that day, but it’s not as bad as it will be on their wedding day, Jiang Cheng is sure of that. And he’s definitely looking forward to that.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[angelguk]

the one where jeongguk was your best friend until uni hit and you drifted apart. you hadn’t thought about him and you didn’t think he thought about you. until one day you walk into a bathroom that felt more like a closet full of skeletons. oc is ?????? about jk. there’s angst folks! 1.6k words. listen to safe place by kiana v

You didn’t even want to go out. At all. Jaehwa’s the one who forced you out of your comfortable nest of solitude. Why would you want to leave your cosy apartment when you could binge-watch all of Avatar: The Last Airbender uninterrupted? But she’d insisted, and because you had a tiny soft spot for her adorable whiny face you’d relented. She’d painted your face, squealing in delight at the prospect of finally being able to play with glittering golds and wispy dark tones on your eyes. She had enough pallets stacked in her room to build a house, although you never commented on her obsession with make-up since it was literally what she did for a living. A part of you was thrilled too, brain already organising an outfit that corresponded with the look Jaehwa had granted you. It’s not like you never went out; you had your fair share of wild nights during the course of university but fourth-year had taken a toll on your social life. When you had the energy, you’d rather do something simple like attempt a Nigella Lawson recipe (which — by luck — worked well most days), or stare at your ceiling while listening to your favourite songs from high school on repeat, longing for the time when the future didn’t feel like a great big abyss on the verge of swallowing you whole.

Everything felt right when you left, both of you giggling into the sweet summer air, your arms intertwined and your breaths tinged with tequila. She’d kept murmuring about her current infatuation, the glitter in her eyes brighter than the evening stars scattered above. Every time she mentioned his name, her cheeks flushed rose, features a picture-perfect image of contentment. The love that radiated off her made your lips twitch in a smile. You’re ecstatic that she’s found someone who makes her feel like that; Jaehwa had been through too many messy relationships with people that didn’t deserve her kind heart. If anything you just wanted to meet the guy to warn him that if he was going to worm his way into your roommate's life, he better treat her well. You didn’t even know his name yet, but you wouldn’t hesitate to punch him right in the face if he didn’t handle her with care.

That is until you met him.

You didn’t mind that Jaehwa vanished at some point during the party. It was given considering that you were both aware her new partner was coming here tonight too. You knew the hosts well enough to linger in the living room, Jimin splayed out on top of you as he slurred out another anecdote that left you laughing into the cushions of his couch, the grin on your lips delirious. The drinks were endless too, overflowing from your cup as he tipped them down your throat. It didn’t take long before you were squeezing your thighs together, eyes spying for a moment to break away and head to the bathroom. But Jimin was persistent, his knee nudging against your bladder more often than you’d like. Until Taehyung appeared. An individual you vaguely knew but Jimin adored him. You broke away the moment the two collided, scampering off upstairs as quickly as your comprising saunter would allow.

You didn’t think as you kicked open the door, your brain focused on finding the nearest toilet. But then your eyes fell upon on a scene that seared itself into your memory.

He’s got his hands on her, deft fingers buried in between her legs and his lips latched onto the span of her neck. You hear the crack in your heart, so loud that it rumbles in your head, a warning for what’s to come. You know it’s Jaehwa, the little flustered laugh that drifts from her rosy lips nothing but evidence for your suspicions. It’s worse because you know exactly who she’s with. How could you forget him; from the broad span of his shoulder to the soft chestnut curls that gather atop his perfect head like a halo. It’s like your insides are spilling out, vision hot with wetness you didn’t know was pooling there until he turns, gaze descending on you with disinterest.

That changes swiftly, the flash of recognition that sparks in his honey eyes ripping your heart out of your chest. It tumbles to the floor, forlorn, an emptiness eating you alive.

“Sorry,” you croak out, tearing your eyes from him.

“No, no, it’s okay!” Jaehwa shifts, flustered but there is no trace of shame in her moment. She tugs her skirt down playfully, unbothered by the trail of your gaze. You just clocked that she wasn’t wearing any underwear in the first place. “Um — uh. I’m sorry, this is so awkward, I didn’t want you guys to meet like this.”

His eyes snap onto her, jaw tight. You can’t help but swallow hard, the jumble of words in your throat demanding to be released. They claw and scratch, harsh and vengeful. You swallow again, shaking your head, the forced smile on your lips courteous. “Don’t worry about it."

She jumps into an introduction then, pretending like his hands weren’t working her open mere moments ago, while the two of you stare at each other; strangers who weren’t strangers. You take the chance to observe him, ignoring the delight colouring her voice when she says his name, your gut twisting with contempt. Somehow, he’s gotten buffer, his broad figure evident even with the loose black top billowing from his frame. His hair is longer too, cascading from his scalp in delicate ringlets that you would have gingerly brushed back if you could touch him again. His eyes are the same though, doleful, wide, with an innocence that spurs you to take him under your wing, pamper him like the prince he was.

He should be with Jaehwa — she's a princess in her own right. Even in the dim light of the bathroom, you can see how well their bodies slot against each other; her fragile frame a direct contrast to his broad one. His arm is slung around her waist too, tugging her close like he used to do with you.

You don’t know why this hurts. You attribute it to the alcohol trickling through your system.

“Hi Jeongguk,” you say softly, the feeling of his name on your tongue is foreign. You distinctly remember the last time you said it. A long hurtful fight that left the two of you standing on opposite plains, staring as the long-standing bridge between the two of you burst into flames. “Nice to meet you.”

He nods, curls swaying with the moment. “Likewise. I guess you need to use the bathroom?” His hand slips into her’s. You feel like you’re sinking. But you nod, give them another false smile. The exchange is brief, Jeongguk already tenderly drawing Jaehwa out the door. “Apologies for hogging it. Didn’t mean to,” he says. Jaehwa mutters another apology as they leave. The air around you sticks to your skin, squeezing your lungs tight.

“Come find me later, okay? I want you guys to be friends! You’d be great friends!” She’s so animated you’re not sure how to squash her pipe dreams without hurting her. You and Jeongguk being friends? That was nothing but a castle in the sky. But you promise to find her, shutting the door gently, even though your fingers itch to slam it in their faces.

You don’t know how your feet make it to the toilet, but you collapse on top of it after swinging the cover down. Your head meets your knees next, the waves of emotions inside of you rolling and crashing into each other with a violence that makes you feel sick. The bile in your throat is bitter, tasting exactly like the resentful words on your tongue. The universe must despise you. That’s the conclusion you reach, body cold as you curl into yourself. How you managed to bump into the one individual you managed to avoid for nearly three years straight was nothing but a calamity you didn’t deserve. And the fact that he was with Jaehwa? The one person you treasured more than anything. Jaehwa had helped you find yourself after Jeongguk had left you in shatters.  You wish you told her his name — maybe this could never have happened.

The pain spiking in your heart refuses to wane, cruel with its clamour for acknowledgement. You could leave, flee from Jimin’s place and return to the sanctuary of seclusion waiting for you under your bed cover. But if you left Jaehwa would be hurt. And Jeongguk would know you’d gone because of him. Even if you loathe him, even if he caused you enough pain to last a lifetime, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction that he’d gotten the best of you again. But how on Earth could you explain to Jaehwa that her lover was none other than the boy whose name you never said? The boy who trampled over you like you meant nothing to him. The boy who was your first friend ever, who kissed your cuts and bruises when you were in elementary and saved a seat for you beside him during your joint library lessons. The boy whose bed you’d started your first period on, who punched any asshole who was rude to you, who carried spare headbands in his pocket in case yours snapped or you lost one as you were prone to do. The boy who baked you a cupcake for your birthday every year, who made you laugh and cry and scream with joy when he attacked you with tickles. The boy you thought you knew until you landed here, young adults naive in their navigation of the world. The boy who was your best friend - until one day he wasn’t.

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Adversity - 13-A

Fanfic update

I’ve decided to utilize this tumblr space to put in WIPs/partial chapters/unedited stories from my end. Then I’ll post it somewhere in Ao3 or FF.net. Maybe.

 In the meantime, here’s an installment of Adversity (the chapters here in tumblr aren’t updated – it would make much more sense if you check it out on Ao3 first before coming back here). In essence this is part of Chapter 13.

Keen to hear what you think about this portion :)

-

Adversity details

Multi-chapter, work in progress, AU, pre-LoK,

Latest status: up to Chapter 12 uploaded in A03

Blurb: Lin and Tenzin are both at the height of their respective     careers – she with the Metalbending Police and he with the Air Nation.     Questions about their future begin to arise and things come to a head when     Lin responded to an emergency call. Would her job take them from each     other forever? Eventual happy ending. Alternatively: The one where Lin and     Tenzin had to go through adversity like Lin’s dangerous job, a near-death     experience, temporary separation and memory loss, unplanned pregnancy and     Tenzin’s responsibilities before they end up with a family.

Tumblr chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Ao3 link |   Ff.net link

---

Adversity – 13-A

 Tenzin clutches a warm towel and wipes it across her forehead. He did not know why and if it would help but he thought it might make her feel better.

Her chest rose and fell with each breath, no longer laborious or irregular. Nonetheless, he kept vigil and held one of her hands. It reminded him of incidents in the past years where he kept watch over her – that night in the Fire Nation Royal Compound when they first found her alive, those nights after missions that might have gone fatally wrong…

The day had started promising. But as always with the two of them, it never was easy…

Once he had the cabana in his view, he should have known that Izumi would have pulled something like this.

---

Tenzin received a message from one of the staff that the princess requested for lunch to be served at one of the beach cabanas. He did not think much about it; it has happened before and figured that maybe Izumi was being a good host.

There was only one person else in the cabana – Lin, who was looking puzzled and was frowning at something on the table.

His feet hit the sand and the earthbender turned to him. “Oh, it’s you.” She looked at him incredulously.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He deadpanned, seating across her. He did not ask questions, assuming that she was led to the cabana using the same ruse.

"I had no idea that you were the man that Izumi said that I'll be meeting for lunch." Lin flicked a note towards him. “Why is she doing this? I found that upon arriving here.”

He caught the paper that slid on the table.

It was in Izumi’s handwriting – informing Lin to please consider (consider – the word was underlined heavily, the insinuation not lost to the reader) this man that she has invited for her. And that they would be left to their own devices as the princess has taken the entire family off for a scenic tour of the island on Druk, Appa and Oogi.

Trust that Izumi would have connived with the rest of the family to pull something like this off.

Tenzin felt the need to apologize for their meddling family and did just that.

Lin shrugged, seemingly uninterested. “Is this supposed to be a test?”

“A test?” What does she mean?

“For me – or for you?” Lin asked back.

“Like for your memory?” To the airbender, it seemed like they were having a different conversation.

The earthbender looked vaguely uncomfortable now, hand lightly patting her belly. “Um no – I mean, for you – is Izumi…?” She trailed off.

For the life of him, Tenzin could not think of what the continuation was.

“Your partner?” Lin finally asked.

What.

“No!” Tenzin’s voice rose, surprised by the question that he did not even consider that the response might have sounded rude. “Of course not!”

“Don’t you protest too much?” Lin was amused. “It’s fine really – or is it a matter of security?” She was being nonchalant about it though Tenzin could have sworn there was a tiny bit of relief in her voice.

“What. No – it’s not like that.” Tenzin had to disabuse her of this ludicrous idea she had. “They’re all just meddling – they mean well – look, Izumi – she’s not my type -!”

Now you just sounded like a whiny teenager.

He cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “Well, seems like they’re setting us up.”

“Whatever for,” She rolled her eyes then grinned. “Let’s not waste the food then.”

He found himself chuckling at that as Lin proceeded to scoop some food on her plate. “Joke’s on them though.”

Lin’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

“I actually intend to ask you out for dinner today.”

She paused and left her chopstick hanging in the air. “Dinner.”

He wet his dry lips. “Yes.”

“I take it you haven’t told them yet?” Lin examined the other dishes available to them. “What time do we need to get ready or we don’t know yet, depending on how soon they get back?”

Tenzin held the back of his neck as the heat crept up. “I mean, dinner – just us, you and me?”

As much as he did not want to admit, maybe Bumi was right – he did not have game.

Lin’s face was unreadable.

He was able to back-pedal when he heard it.

“Okay.”

 ---

The rest of their lunch went a smoother.

They talked about the mundane things – he talked about Republic City, she talked about the Fire Nation. She asked about what he does in the council and how the RCPD was when they left. He was more than happy to oblige and took the time to answer her questions in great detail.

Before long, when she declared that she felt too full for dessert, he invited her to walk along the shore. He pointed out a cluster of rock formations at the edge of the island.

Lin looked intrigued and they set forth.

He explained that Lord Zuko had told them when they were children that the rocks were formed when the volcano used to be active. It made for an impressive sight, tall and a bit forbidding.

That did not stop them though, Tenzin shared, as they would keep going back there to play when they were younger.

They stood beside the rocks, sandals soaked by the sea, small waves lapping at their legs.

He was in the middle of a retelling of the time Bumi had dared Su to race him to the top (not knowing that the kid can earthbend really well by then) when rather large wave crashed against the rock formation, spraying and drenching them with salt water.

He was laughing, saying he probably should have warned that that usually happens. His eyes alighted on her and was caught mid-laugh.

Lin stood stiffly, her eyes wild. One hand on her cheek (her scars), another on her chest - breathing erratically gulping air.

“Lin!” He immediately held her by the shoulders; she was shaking. “Lin!”

A panic attack.

Each breath rattled against chest as she started blankly, unseeing. Lin was insensible to her surroundings.

Tenzin scooped her up and ran as it all clicked.

Captain Tomasu did say that they had found Lin in the water.

Damn.

The minutes it took him to the rest house felt like hours. With the family away on whatever excursion Izumi and Iroh planned, he had to rely on the staff to come to their aid. Fortunately, the in-house healer was at hand.

The rest was a blur.

 He felt the moment she regained consciousness. Her breathing shifted yet her eyes remained close.

Tenzin continued to run his fingers on her knuckles, whether to comfort her or himself was unclear.

Lin blinked slowly, her breathing sped up. Her hand quickly slapped to her cheek, tracing the scar with shaking fingers.

The airbender could hear her murmuring softly.

“My name is Lin. I’m in Ember Island. I’m okay. I’m safe. We’re -.” Her eyes focused and saw Tenzin at the periphery. “The baby?”

Tenzin leaned forward, grasping both of her hands and placing them on her stomach. “Is okay. You’re both okay – I had you both checked. You just had a little panic attack.”

There was no use alarming her.

“Panic attack…” She whispered to herself. “I used to black out before…”

“I’m sorry,” Tenzin said quietly. “I should have paid more attention to you.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Lin said in an equally soft tone. To his astonishment, she pulled his hand up to her cheek and leaned on it. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

He extended his fingers, gingerly touching her cheek. There were still times in the past weeks when he could not believe that she was here and she was alive. Little touches like these were rare and he savored the moments to remind himself that she was truly there.

“The rice granary,” Lin began, staring at the ceiling, actively avoiding Tenzin’s gaze. “It exploded, you know, the man – the firebender –.”

The airbender waited, this was in the papers and the reports that he was very familiar with.

“He knew what he was doing,” Lin held on his fingers tightly. “He saw me and he set fire – I fell to the water. I felt like drowning – maybe I did.” Tenzin gripped her hand back. “It was really hot and there was a lot of metal scraps. I remember sinking and maybe removing my armor…” Her face scrunched, obviously thinking. “The current was fast, rapidly swept me away – it was so cold. I thought I was going to die.” She resolutely focused on the ceiling when she heard Tenzin’s gasp. “I don’t know how long it was – it was dark, then there was light. My lungs – they burned so bad. Next thing I knew – I was aboard Captain Tomasu’s ship.”

Tenzin’s own breath caught.

Could it be… her memories have returned?

“Don’t force it.” He rubbed her wrist back and forth, hoping to sooth her.

“It’s still blank.” Her face was troubled and eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “I don’t remember what happened before the explosion.”

Feeling her get distressed, Tenzin moved closer to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Lin Beifong, my mother is Toph – we grew up together in Republic City.” She now turned to him. “I live in Republic City now…”

His stomach churned. “What’s the last thing you remember from before?” He asked cautiously, afraid of triggering something.

“I’m deputy chief, I think.” She racked her brains. “There’s this small apartment. I think I live there.”

Tenzin swallowed. This was from a time before they lived together, when they were still exploring their relationship.

“I’m not losing it, am I? That really happened?” Her green eyes wide, seeing reassurance.

He nodded, still silently contemplating what this meant.

“After that – it’s blank.” She released a breath. “Did something significant happen during that missing period?”

“You got promoted to Chief of Police.”

“Maybe that’s it…something to do with work.” Lin guessed absentmindedly, biting her lip.

He added tentatively. “We’ve also decided to move in together.”

The way she looked at him now – it was as if she was seeing him for the first time.

“You’re the father.” She stated it so plaintively with a hint of caution.

“That’s the first time you’ve told me that.” Tenzin attempted to downplay the significance of the revelation. “Don’t worry about it – you probably didn’t know you were pregnant back then before –.” He waved a hand around, at a loss for words on how to explain the situation.

“You’re not even questioning it?” Her voice was tight and her posture tense.

“Not at all.”

She finally let tears flow.

 ---

He embraced her, murmuring reassurances that he will be there for her and the child. He will be involved.

But somehow – there was still that gap in her memory. She was missing something crucial, she can feel it - it was about the Air Nation. The gut feel was of hesitation and wariness. What was it about?

She had talked to Aang the previous days and there were no mentions of issues with the Air Nation.

Maybe it had something to do with crime? With her promotion as Chief of Police?

If only her mother were around… Maybe she could help her piece her memory together.

Lin pulled back from the airbender, who suddenly looked at her with apprehension.

“What happens now – what if I don’t remember?” Now that she had part of her memories back – she hated the feeling of uncertainty.

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” Tenzin inched closer to her, gently cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears. “Just know that you’re never alone.”

The sincerity in his eyes was enough for her. She did not even need to employ her seismic sense to know he was telling the truth.

She closed her eyes as he moved. She felt his lips on her forehead.

The airbender sat back down, a soft smile on his face.

She looked at their entwined fingers.

She will take this chance.

This was for her child. All for their child. And it will be enough.