#and then it's a domino effect and suddenly 18 more things make so much more sense when they seemed so weak before

[justalittlebluetiefling]

The fact that writing original fiction is just making stuff up seems so fake sometimes.

[stemwriter]

Pursuit of Knowledge - Chapter 3

Hey, I know I said I was gonna be delayed, and I was, but thankfully, only by about 18 hours. Anyway, it's done now, here it is!

And again, I am on Ao3 under the username StemWriter, link to the fic in the masterlist!

Word count: ~6.7k

You’d been doing some thinking since you last entered the mystical world of Teyvat. A lot had happened yesterday. For these past four months, you had been obsessed with everything related to the story of Genshin Impact. You could put together a full timeline of Teyvat’s history, and could probably guess what would happen in the future. You knew more about the world than most people of Teyvat knew. You thought it was just a game. 

Now, you knew it was much more than that. What were you going to do now, with all of this precious knowledge in your hands? Did you know too much? Should you cut yourself off from any Genshin media, stopping yourself from finding out any more than the too much you already know? Or should you continue on your endless pursuit of knowledge?

You didn’t tell them the whole truth. Probably because the ‘whole truth’ would have mentally shattered them, and you didn’t even know if it was the truth. You hated lying, but you knew you had to here. If they were ever close to finding out the real truth, would you let them? Or would you try your hardest to keep it from them?

And who even is them? Is it just the Ragnvindr brothers? Or were there more? If there were more, you would have to choose what to tell each person carefully. You may let someone you trust, like those two, know nearly everything, but you may keep nearly everything from, say, a Fatui member.

You still had so, so many questions that you just couldn’t answer quite yet. You were going to meet an archon soon. Should you let him know that you know he’s the archon? Regardless of what you end up deciding, you should probably see what he thinks of your situation and some of the questions you had. After a while of sitting on your bed, thinking and staring at your controller, you decide that it’s time to come back to Teyvat, and turn on your console.

The loading finishes after what feels like forever, revealing your avatar, Aether, standing just outside the walls of Mondstadt. Now, should you continue the story alone, sticking to the ‘script’, or have Kaeya and Diluc with you, and risk starting a major domino effect, if you hadn’t already? You checked your quests to see what you could do to hit AR 10. Secret Pirate Treasure - Pavo Ocellus Chapter: Act I

…Kaeya’s story quest? That’s strange to see after what happened yesterday. Maybe the whole confrontation didn’t have as much of an impact on the timeline you remember after all. Wait, does that mean he’s in the Knights HQ, waiting for you right now? You teleported to the building, not wanting to keep him waiting for much longer.

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

Kaeya was doubtful of [Y/N]’s strange… prophecy powers. He didn’t want to wait until the Stormterror crisis to see if any of their predictions were true. He decided to run an experiment of sorts. He was going to test them. He had a plan to tell them about the Arcadian Ruins, a domain here in Mondstadt that held an incredibly powerful sword. Just one thing, though; there’s no such thing as the Arcadian Ruins in Mondstadt. He had talked to some people and set a whole operation up. If they really could see the future, they’d know exactly what he was planning, and hopefully go along with it. If they couldn’t, he’d probably have a hard time convincing them that his story is true. As of now, he was standing in the lobby of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, wondering how he was going to grab their attention in the first place.

Suddenly, he snapped back to reality, and somehow he just knew that [Y/N] had returned. Not long after, they walk in the headquarters, making a beeline towards him. Time to put his experiment into action.

“This is bad… Such a hassle… What am I going to do…” 

He pretended to not notice them in front of him. [Y/N] hadn’t said anything yet. Like they said, robotic movement meant it was them, so this wasn’t Aether coming to find him. However, now Paimon had appeared, and the Traveler’s movement became more fluid, meaning that now Aether was the one talking to him here, so he couldn’t start asking [Y/N] questions immediately.

‘You don’t usually lose your chill.’ Aether replied.

He had thought about what he would say for this next part.

“Oh, thank the Thousand Winds! Aether, your arrival must be the grace of the gods!  If I may ask – envoy sent by the Anemo God to save this mere mortal – could you spare a moment?” “Ewwww, cut it out!”

“Paimon, shush. Do you want treasure or not?” [Y/N] joked, finally speaking up. They said ‘treasure’, did they know what he was about to say, or was that just guesswork?

‘Tell me what happened.’

He continued with his mildly rehearsed spiel. “I cannot let my peers hear about this! I cannot seek help from anyone else but you. Please, let us move to somewhere more fit for such conversations… Let's talk in the courtyard just outside the headquarters. Come with me.” He began to leave the building, and heard Paimon being cut off by [Y/N].

“What’s wi-”

“Hey, woah woah woah, wait up! It’s just me now. Can we go into the library for a second? I need to talk to you for a second before we go outside, and I don’t want it to look like you’re talking to yourself in front of the other Knights.” [Y/N] said, almost whispering.

He almost replied to that, before taking the last part of what they said into consideration. He nodded, trying to make it seem like he remembered something, and headed into the library, [Y/N] soon following. 

“So,” [Y/N] began, “let me guess; you want to tell them about a powerful sword that was used by your pirate grandfather, located in the Arcadian Ruins, which ends up not even existing because you made it the fuck up to catch some Treasure Hoarders. Is that right?”

“It is indeed. It seems you really can see the future. I suppose I won’t have to tell you what the plan is then, correct?” They really knew a lot. They reminded him of a certain astrologer he saw from time to time, though they were a bit more… vulgar. She was able to tell the future using her Vision somehow. That got him thinking; is one’s fate set in stone from the moment they were born?

“Yep, I remember this pretty well. So the courtyard outside the headquarters, right? I’ll do my best to go along with this, and it should work out.” He snapped out of his slightly existential thoughts. They both left the building, and went to the agreed meeting spot.

He began to talk to Aether and Paimon, mentioning how his grandfather was a pirate, and how he recently found out that he left behind a treasure…

“Treasure!?” Paimon’s eyes lit up. He had her hooked already. He continued to speak.

“According to his notes, the treasure is buried in the ‘Lost Arcadian Ruins.’”

“Treasure…” This time, both Paimon and [Y/N] said that, in the exact same tone. Were they mocking her?

“But the location of the ruins is currently unknown. I've tried searching for clues…” He had a feeling he knew what would be said after that sentence.

“Treasure!” They both said, in the same tone, again. Was this how [Y/N] felt with everything?

He continued on, revealing that the treasure was a magic sword that fell from Celestia, and was used by his grandfather to slay very formidable enemies. For some reason, [Y/N] seemed to be holding back a laugh when he listed said enemies. What did they know here that he didn’t? He told them that he was afraid bandits would get to the sword before they did, and sent them on a mission to gather intel to help find it.

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

You saw someone point out sometime that the enemies that Kaeya’s grandfather supposedly defeated just so happened to match up to the major enemies the Traveler faces. “Eight-headed hydra”? Osial. “Silver-haired banshee”? La Signora. (This one was a bit rude, but it kind of made sense.) “Wicked abyss dragon”? Dvalin. You knew that theory likely didn’t mean anything, but it still made you laugh when you thought about it. This story he’s telling is supposedly an obvious lie, right? Yet the theory-makers in the Genshin fandom were wondering if it actually had some truth to it. You thought about asking about it, but realized that there’s no way he would tell you.

As you talked to Cyrus, you wondered; in this version of events, did Kaeya set this up just to see if you could really see the future? It wouldn’t be too surprising if he did. Who would expect Kaeya, of all people, to try to stick to the script? Was this how his story was going to go in the “canon” version? Was he going to try to defy his pre-determined fate only to end up running straight into it? 

You stuck to the current plan, seeking Kaeya’s informant and looking for clues, starting with the chest on the windmill. (Though, you already knew where the dang ruins were…) The whole time, you were just thinking about how his story would go. Could you help him with your knowledge? Before you were thinking you knew too much, and maybe you do, but now, you felt like you were clueless. Even though Kaeya’s backstory was written in great detail, it still felt like it told you nothing. …That’s honestly not too out of character for him, isn’t it? You were worried about knowing too much about people, but now that you’re thinking about it, those stories you read about them aren’t too far off from things they may have told the Traveler themselves. 

It was too early for you to know such things about people, though. You decided that from now on, you would stay away from looking at things that reveal the backstories of people. Anything you’ve already seen, you decided to let yourself look at again, to jog your memory. You would still look at new Archon Quests and Story Quests, to an extent, too, to gain more information about what’s to happen in the future. But any other new content involving the pasts of people, you decided to stay away from. Maybe you should take every single form of content in the game and make a list on whether you’ll let yourself look at it or not.

You managed to find the windmill without getting a hint from Kaeya, and the next clue couldn’t be more obvious. It was a map leading to Springvale. You teleported there and began to climb the cliff, thankful of your avatar’s abilities to scale smooth vertical surfaces.

Cryo monuments. Great. How were you going to- Oh! Cryo slimes. That made things easier. You just needed to lure the slime to the monument, and… Wind Blade! You repeated that two more times, and you got through it like it was nothing. That made you think, the whole story could be completed using the Traveler, and you wouldn’t have to resort to potentially puppeteering someone again, right?

Finally, you made it to the ruins. You entered, walked past some Pyro hilichurls, weaved around Pyro torches, and defeated several Pyro slimes. The system really wanted you to use Kaeya here, huh? Well screw you, system! You can’t be forced to use anyone!

You could, in fact, be forced to use someone.

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

He had been waiting for this. Finally, his plan was coming into action. They had found the “Arcadian Ruins” and successfully led a group of Treasure Hoarders there with them. He already had some of the Knights he brought with him to arrest most of the Treasure Hoarders, and now there was just one more, their leader, that he needed to take care of. As the group of Knights entered the “ruins”, Kaeya noticed that [Y/N] had seemingly just walked through it all, paying no mind to the enemies and the torches. The door to the last room was open, though, so they must have made it through.

The lone Treasure Hoarder made his way out of the shadows, confronting Aether and Paimon. It was time.

“I'm sorry to rain on your parade…” He says, walking into the large room. [Y/N] started cheering and clapping, telling him to “get his ass”. “But your gang won't be participating in your current plan. If you'd like to ask why, you can go see them... in Mondstadt Prison. Or perhaps you'd prefer to join them permanently?” 

He broke the news to the three that there was no treasure to be found in the first place. For some reason, Paimon seemed more irritated about that than the Treasure Hoarder. Paimon began to throw a temper tantrum while the Treasure Hoarder merely said, “Hah. You got me good. Didn't think the Knights would resort to such tactics.” 

A criminal had the gall to question the Knights on their strategies? “A thief has no right to criticize the methods of the Knights of Fav- Wait, what are you-!” He started running away, saying, “You're not gonna get me!” He made it to a door, which opened, revealing a Ruin Guard behind it. “Okay... Oh god... Wh—What is this? I didn't mean it!” Not so tough now, are you? Kaeya loved seeing the fear in his enemies eyes as they faced off against him, or in this case, a Ruin Guard. The Ruin Guard wasn’t exactly on his side, but it wasn’t on the side of the Treasure Hoarder either, so it might as well have been on his.

Alright, time to take care of this- He felt a strange chill down his spine. He couldn’t move. No. Not again. How could they? He was just standing still as the Ruin Guard walked towards him, preparing to attack. He had trusted them, he thought their apology was genuine! Was this their plan all along? Build his trust only so they could control him again? Were they going to have him killed at the mechanical hands of this Ruin Guard?

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

Your screen faded to black, and now you were in a fight with the Ruin Guard, with Kaeya as your active character. Wait. Kaeya. As your active character. You let out a yelp. No. You looked to the right side of your screen, and saw the pink “Trial” tag over Kaeya’s icon. Why would the system have a trial for a character you already have?! 

You panicked, quickly sprinting away from the Ruin Guard as it slowly hobbled towards him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why this is happening, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cry, hoping that you won’t hurt him in this fight. You moved the camera to show his face. His single light blue eye darted around, before focusing right where the camera was. He knew where the camera was? He stared at you with a look of desperation and confusion on his face. It surprised you just how much emotion could be conveyed with just an eye. “I’m sorry,” you say again, ready to go back into the fight.

You stood far enough away from the Ruin Guard now to cause it to turn around and shoot tracking missiles at you. You tried to run, but at the last second, you realized you couldn’t, and switched to Aether to take the hit. You switched back to Kaeya and sprinted back to the machine. You used his Elemental Skill to apply Cryo to it, then switched to Aether to swirl that. The Ruin Guard stomps. You dodged to the right, then got a couple of hits in. Switch to Kaeya. The Ruin Guard punches at him, you dodged its arms. It jumped, you waited until it hit the ground, and hit it with Kaeya’s skill, which managed to hit its weak point. Switch to Aether, use his skill, swirl the Cryo. Rinse and repeat. You haven’t made a sound, being too focused on the fight to think of anything to say. The Ruin Guard starts spinning. You switched to Aether to take the hits as you tried to get away. 

“Maybe… I wasn’t meant for this world…”

Shit. Aether’s down, that leaves only Kaeya for you to use. No more punching bag to take the hits. Luckily, the Ruin Guard was almost down, so you just needed to get a couple more hits in. It jumped up in the air again, and when it came down, you hit its weak spot with Kaeya’s skill again. That weakness strike was just enough to finish it off.

“Take that you weird-looking farm equipment!” You yell in exhaustion. Wait, should you have said that? 

“How embarrassing... Having my life saved by a knight…” that Treasure Hoarder named Izzard said. Kaeya hesitated to respond, still looking a bit shaken from the fight. You decided to say something to him first.

“Hey, it’s over now, you’re alright.” You tried to comfort him a bit. We need to talk in a minute when it’s just you and me, but for now, just try to pretend like everything’s normal.”

And so he did, for the most part. He spoke slowly at first, but Paimon’s whining seemed to make him take his mind off of what had just happened. It almost made you forget, as well. You hated seeing people sad, but something about seeing Paimon crying about not getting treasure just made you crack up. He gave you the "Triumphant Harbinger of Dawn That Points Towards Victory". It was just an ordinary Harbinger of Dawn like the ones you already had, but with a long, fancy name. Still, you wanted to keep this one.

“What a wonderful day. Now, I have to go interrogate some people… Please excuse me. Do come speak to me when you have the chance.” The screen faded to black again, and you got a notification saying you’d reached AR 10. When you could see your surroundings, Kaeya wasn’t in your party anymore, and Aether had been revived.. It was just you two in the domain now.

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

What’s happening? Kaeya thought [Y/N] had purposely taken control of him here, but with the way they were almost sobbing trying to apologize to him made him think. Were they not in control of who they were controlling? Just how deep was this? He looked around in a panic, and focused on a single point. There was nothing there, but he felt like he was making direct eye contact with something. 

“I’m sorry,” [Y/N] choked out, and didn’t say another word after that.

Not too long after, he was nearly struck by the missiles of the Ruin Guard. He’d almost forgotten it was there. [Y/N] fought it, quickly swapping between using him and Aether. Every time he came close to getting hit, they would make Aether take the hit. Until the very end, though. Aether collapsed into a pile of glowing ashes, much like Amber did on that first day. Again, he panicked, wondering what would happen now that [Y/N]’s main vessel was gone, but remembered that Amber had been revived right after, so Aether likely would be as well.

“Take that you weird-looking farm equipment!” [Y/N] said, the Ruin Guard collapsing to the ground. While the seemingly mindless avatar of Aether had fallen, Kaeya had remained untouched, thankfully. 

Wait.

What had they just called it?

He tried his best to carry on like normal, ignoring his heart pounding right out of his chest from the anxiety caused by the fight. It turns out that fights were a lot more terrifying when you lacked confidence. Aether was, in fact, still alive, and unless he was a master at pretending he hadn’t just died, he really wasn’t aware of what was happening to him. Paimon really wanted that treasure, huh? Well, too bad. Maybe next time he’ll make a real treasure hunt for them. He gave the two their prize, and prepared for an interrogation. With whom, though; that Treasure Hoarder, or [Y/N]?

That question was answered rather quickly, as everyone else but him and [Y/N]... disappeared from the domain completely. For a split second, he could swear he saw some weird, yellow, rectangular outline where he felt he was making eye contact earlier, but it immediately disappeared. Kaeya looked around in confusion for a moment before turning towards [Y/N].

They walked up to him before saying, “Are you alright? Seriously, again, I’m so sorry. The system must’ve forced you into my team, I- I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear.” 

“I’m fine.” He crossed his arms. “Now, the system, forced me into your team? How exactly does that happen?” They had explained what they meant when they said things like “team” or “party” in this context, but what they meant by that mildly confused him.

“I don’t really know. When I was going in, I noticed a lot of Pyro things. It felt like the system really wanted me to use you to get through it, and then next thing I know, there you were, as my avatar.”

“So even if you’re only intending to use Aether’s avatar, your system… can force people into your control?” How much control did they have over this?

“Yep. I know it happens to more people in the future, but I was not expecting it this time. See, normally, the system would do this to let me try out new abilities; new avatars. I thought that since I could already use your abilities whenever I wanted, or at least in theory, I could, that the system wouldn’t need to do the stupid ‘Trial’ thing. But, of course, it did.” 

This would happen to more people? This was something he needed to tell Diluc about. Who knows, maybe he would be next… “Interesting…” He began. “Do you mind if I… inform Diluc about this?”

“Please do, actually. I have some other things to do, so I’m not too sure when I’ll see him again.”

“‘Other things’? Like what?”

“Oh, uh, I guess continuing the story of the Traveler. The system says I have to return to Mondstadt now, and I’m pretty sure that means that Aether’s about to be given the title of Honorary Knight.” At this point, he shouldn’t be surprised they know about that. He had heard Jean discussing it with Lisa while he was planning this operation, so he already knew they were right.

“You’re going to the Knights Headquarters, then? Mind if I join you? Talking with Diluc can wait for a bit.” All that really mattered is that he told Diluc before [Y/N]’s system got to him, too.

“Sure, you can come with me. Though I was going to teleport there…”

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

You were glad he understood that you didn’t do that on purpose. You weren’t sure if he was comfortable with the idea of you being able to take control of him at any given moment, sometimes without even your intention to, but it seemed like he mostly forgave you. 

You needed to get to the outside of the Goth Grand Hotel to continue the story, and now you needed to bring Kaeya with you. Either you walk all the way from Falcon Coast to Mondstadt, or you find a way to teleport both of you.

But wait, you needed to ask him about how he looked at you in the ruins. Could he…

“Hey Kaeya?” He turned towards you. You moved your camera around a bit, and he looked at it. “Can you… can you see me?” You moved your camera a bit more, to see if he followed it. He mostly looked at your avatar, but he kept glancing at the camera.

“Is that what… this is?” He looked back at the camera. “I don’t see anything there, but I feel as if I’m being… watched from that point. You said you were viewing this world from your own, yes? Is this where you’re viewing it from?”

“Yes, actually, I’m surprised you can, uh, sense it or whatever.” What he said made so much, yet so little sense. From what he told you, it felt like that weird sixth sense that tells you when you’re being watched, but how could he tell, and why only now? “...And you didn’t notice anything before?”

“I believe I noticed something similar before, but only now do I know what it is. I’m afraid I don’t know why this is happening, all I know is that… it is.” So they could see your camera… Wait, could everyone? Or just Kaeya? Another question to find the answer to.

Anyway, now’s not the time to be wondering about things like that. You needed to figure out if he could use the Teleport Waypoints or not, so you could get to the city. “Have you noticed certain waypoints around Teyvat? The ones made of stone, that kind of look like a torch.” 

“I have, but I wasn’t aware they had any kind of actual function until you came along, and started using them to teleport from place to place. Is that one of your… powers, as well?” It looked like he had picked up on how you were using the waypoints. That’s good, you won’t have to do as much explaining.

“So you do know what they can be used for, that’s good. I’m not exactly sure if using them to teleport is specific to me, though. As far as I know, there isn’t anything stopping people from using them, but no one else seems to even acknowledge their existence. I don’t know if others can use them, and that’s why I brought this up.” 

To quote the Wiki: “The canonicity of Teleport Waypoints is unclear.” Maybe it was only you, the player. Maybe it was just the Traveler. Maybe it was just people who could manipulate elements. Whatever it was, you were about to find out if Kaeya could use them. 

“...Are you wanting me to try to teleport to one of these waypoints?”

“Yep.”

“How exactly am I going to go about doing this? I don’t have a map like you, where I can just… pick and choose right where I want to go.”

“I think I might have an idea. Do you have the surroundings of a particular waypoint memorized?” Hopefully this worked. If it didn’t you had another idea, but this would allow him to do it on his own, whenever he wanted to.

“…I recall there being one in the middle of the lake in Springvale. I know that area fairly well, so I suppose I’ve memorized the surroundings of that waypoint. Now, what exactly am I supposed to do with that?”

“Okay, good.” You began to speak slowly. “Just visualize that area, imagine that you’re there. Close your eyes if you need to.” Eyes? Eye? Whatever, you just needed him to try that.

“Alright…” He said. You saw him close his eye, take a deep breath, and- Gone. No fancy effects, just poof! Vanished! It actually worked. Now you just needed to go there yourself. You opened your map, selected the waypoint, and followed right after him. You startled him a bit when you suddenly appeared beside him again. It looked like even he was surprised by the lack of any over the top effects.

“So, how’d that feel?” You asked. Hopefully in the future he could get quicker at it, and be able to make a swift escape from something. 

“It felt… as if my soul was ripped from my body for a moment. But, it didn’t hurt or anything like that, just a little… out of body experience.” 

‘Oh my god,’ you thought. That sounded horrifying, but apparently he was okay with it. “Are you willing to do it more?” You asked, wanting to make sure that he was, in fact, okay with it.

“If this allows me to travel around Teyvat nearly instantly, then I suppose so. A little discomfort is no big deal.” Having your soul ripped from your body is “a little discomfort”, and “no big deal”. Okay.

“Alright, just let me know if you start feeling bad because of it. Let’s try to go to the waypoint on top of the Knights headquarters; it’s the closest one to where I need to go.” You had a feeling he would not let you know if it did something to him, but you felt you should still say it.

You two made it to the HQ, and Kaeya was planning to follow you, but as soon as he heard Jean was going to be involved, he wanted to stay behind. He wasn’t in the mood to answer questions from her, and for all she knew, he was still on patrol. You told him you would be at the Cathedral plaza after you talked with Jean, and he decided he was going to meet you there. 

After he left, things went just as you remembered them. Jean told you about the Fatui, you went to the HQ, showed her and Lisa the crystal, received the title of Honorary Knight, and began to follow Venti’s footsteps. Did you even have to do this? You knew where he was. You tried heading straight to the plaza, and lo and behold, there he was, along with Kaeya as an audience member.

You listened to his story, the Tale of Two Dragons. It was far more beautiful than the one you’d heard. The emotions his performance gave made you feel as if you were really there, witnessing the events being told. You saw, or rather, heard exactly why he’s the most popular bard in Mondstadt. You couldn’t help but clap afterwards. If he could hear you, you wanted to wait until you were alone with him at Windrise to reveal yourself, so you hoped he didn’t notice. You went on with the conversation as normal, not saying a word. You could see Kaeya in the background, listening, but none of them seemed to notice.

“Hey! Where are you running off to!?”

“To the ‘Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero.’ Bye-bye~”

Aaaand he was gone. After the Traveler and the pixie were done talking to each other, you walked up to Kaeya, making sure there’s no one around to see him talking to himself. You were eager to see what he thought about all of that.

“I have to say, seeing people suddenly disappear like that is going to take some getting used to. Ignoring that for now, just what’s the deal with that crystal?” 

“I found it in the woods before I came to Mondstadt for the first time. It was red when I found it, and it’s been purified, so now it’s blue. It’s apparently a tear from Stormterror.”

“Oh? That sounds… interesting. Is there anything else I should know about from before you came to Mondstadt?”

“I mean, I can tell you what I know of the Traveler’s backstory another time, but now, I should probably go meet up with Venti. I guess this is bye for now, then.” You kind of wanted him to go with you, but you knew Venti probably wasn’t planning to see you, let alone you and a plus one.

“Already? Well, I suppose I do have things to do. I should probably talk to Diluc, and I can’t hide from Master Jean forever. I’ll see you around.”

“See you around!”

------------------------------------------------------------

And so you went to the massive tree, and approached Venti. Aether brought up the God of Anemo, and Venti began to talk about how the God of Anemo had been absent from Mondstadt for a very long time. You responded to that by simply saying, “Oh, really?” over and over again, and “It’s a shame I’ll never get to meet this Archon of the Wind,” in the most sarcastic tone you could muster.

After that last remark, he looked straight at the camera with a deadpan expression. To little surprise, he could hear you. He could also “see” the camera too? Aether looked in the direction of the camera for a second, probably wondering what Venti was looking at, but just looked back at him in confusion. You tried to stop yourself from laughing, but you couldn’t, bursting out into a cackle. Things are always ten times funnier when you’re not supposed to laugh.

And then you were fighting an Eye of the Storm using only Anemo Traveler. Great! You started calling out, “Venti help me!” repeatedly, and he started helping you. It wasn’t much, considering he too, was Anemo, but he was at least able to shoot it down when it flew up into the air. 

You finally defeated it, and Venti spoke up. “If there’s anyone else who would like to reveal themselves, now would be a good time!” He knew very well of your existence at this point. There was no point trying to hide, even if you didn’t want to let him know.

You simply said, “Hi.” He seemed to be trying to avoid talking directly to you. He might’ve noticed that the Traveler and Paimon seemed unaware of you. “You don’t have to worry about confusing the other two. At least, not until you see Paimon- or, the pixie, fairy thing again.” You forgot he (probably) didn’t know who Paimon was yet.

“Oh? And who might you be, then? I’ve never encountered anything like you. Perhaps one day you too, may be written into a bard’s tale.” 

“Call me [Y/N]. I want you to know now that I wasn’t put in this… situation by choice.” Venti looked a bit concerned. “I’ll explain later. We should get back to what we were talking about earlier, before we were… interrupted by that thing.”

“Alright [Y/N], if you say so… Seems the dragon wasn't the only thing affected by this change in the wind…” Your screen faded to black, and you were back in a cutscene. “Now then, you were saying someone had told you about the dragon?”

You stayed silent for most of the conversation, only reacting with:

“Oh.”

“Yay!”

“Woo-hoo!”

Next thing you knew, you were at the Cathedral, listening to Venti’s futile attempt to convince the nun to give him the Holy Lyre. 

“Shocked, aren't you? Don't you just want to cry out and rejoice? How does it feel to finally meet the god you've been serving?”

“If there's nothing else, I'll be going back to handle the Cathedral's paperwork now.”

“Wait-”

“I don’t think that worked.” You said, trying to show as little emotion as possible.

“Oh…” He sighed, pouting, glaring at the camera. “You're the hotshot of the Knights of Favonius, why don’t you give it a shot?” You just stared at him, hoping he could sense that.

And what do you know? It still didn’t work. What a surprise. Even when you said Paimon ate the papers, it didn’t work! You thought that would change things!

Venti commented on how it was unfair the best warrior did not receive the best sword; another tale fit for a ballad. You discussed stealing it, and now Aether was finally questioning Venti about what he had said.

“Your point being?” Venti seemed very nonchalant about his “secret identity” being revealed. Out of all of the archons so far, he was your favorite. 

You had a plan, and now you had to wait until “nightfall”, a.k.a. 6 in the evening! This was the part where you were meant to use the time skip feature you had been missing, right? You’d noticed the past two days that the time in Teyvat synced to your timezone, and there was no option to fast-forward. You didn’t have to wait a terribly long time, and thankfully, you had something to do to spend the time.

“Hey, wanna go to the Angel’s Share tavern for a bit? I think that I want to do some explaining there.” You asked Venti. You hoped Diluc was bartending, or at least in the building doing something.

“Ohoho, do I?” Oh no, what have you started? “I could never deny a visit to a tavern! The Dawn Winery’s wine truly is exquisite! Ah- wait, do you happen to have any Mora on you?”

You sighed. “I do, but I’m not going to be paying for alcohol. I have things to talk about, and I want you to remember them.”

“Oh, fine, fair enough. Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go! Hehe~” 

That laugh. That goddamn laugh.

Diluc wasn’t bartending, but you saw him come down from the third floor, unlocking the door to the stairwell so he could leave. You made your avatar jump up and down, saying “Hi!” to him. You hadn’t seen him since yesterday. He opened the door, and stopped at the base of the stairwell. Kaeya soon followed him, going down the stairs only to stop when he saw you. What were they doing up there?

“Ah. Hello.” Diluc looked around your avatar, probably checking for Paimon, and noticed Venti standing behind you. “Is there a reason why you’re here with this bard?”

“I do. I was hoping I’d find you here, and luckily, I did. I offered to take him here because I wanted to- you know what? Venti, you just tell them.”

“[Y/N] here said they wanted to do some explaining, right here in this most wonderful tavern, over a couple of drinks.” 

Kaeya and Diluc looked at you two for a moment, wide-eyed, surprised that Venti could hear you.

“Well, Diluc and I did just finish discussing things upstairs. I suppose we can go back up there to… fill your new friend here in.” Kaeya says, gesturing to the stairwell.

You tell him that sounds good, and the four of you headed upstairs, into a room full of wine barrels. It looked like it was their storage area.

Venti looked around in excitement, while you and the two brothers found a place to stand. “Don’t even think about touching anything. And don’t try to sneak a sip of anything without me knowing. All of these barrels are unopened, I’ll be able to tell if you’ve tampered with it.” Diluc definitely knew just how much Venti liked alcohol.

“So, what exactly are we talking about here? Everything we know, or shall we leave some details out?” Diluc asked.

“I at least want him to know who I am, and the very basics of what I’m doing, but yeah, everything. As much as possible.” You responded.

“Are you sure you trust him with this? You haven’t known him for very long, no? How can you be sure that he’s truly someone who should know this?” Kaeya seemed skeptical of Venti. Did he not want him to know for some reason?

“Yes, Kaeya, I trust him with this. Hey, come over here with me for a second.” You went to the corner of the room with him, and began to whisper to him. “Remember, I can see a bit of the future. I know who he is, and I trust him.” If anything, you trusted him more than Kaeya or Diluc. You thought the distrust some people had in the archons was reasonable, but you felt that you could trust Venti. You went back to the others. “Alright, where should we start?”

You discussed everything with them. It went very similarly to the conversation you had with just Kaeya and Diluc the other day, but this time, there was no panic, no anxiety. Everyone gave their thoughts about it, and any misunderstandings anyone had at this point were cleared up. You weren’t sure if they completely trusted you yet, especially considering what had happened with Kaeya earlier, but it seemed like they did trust you at least a little bit.

Now, as your avatar stood in the tavern, you were wondering;

“How much will my actions here affect things? Just when will that domino effect start?”

[bruhlsbees]

paradox burning ; 3/5 || ernst schmidt x fem!reader

gif credit to @/guillermodltoro

summary: the domino effect begins, schmidt and reader are thrown into hot water, mundy's arms shows up at the worst time

pairing: ernst schmidt x fem!reader

word count: 7,502

warnings: major character death (no not reader or ernst), spoilers for the cloverfield paradox, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, dick riding, yeah yeah y'all know what this shit about to be, minors dni, 18+, nsfw

a/n: we are almost done with the series!!!! figured i'd throw in a good smut scene before the angst of the ending - if you haven't heard already there will be a sequel to this (and yes it will be around 13 chapters) hope you enjoy!!!

translations (god i hope these are right):

Желим те - I want you, Волим те - I love you

Watching the clock, you waited until the hour hand clicked in place, the new hour beginning. You had been waiting in your room now for an hour, calming down before deciding that enough was enough and you had work to do. You wouldn’t be sitting in your room for the rest of your time aboard the station. Damn the Commander and damn anyone who thought differently.

Standing up from your bed, you didn’t bother with putting your suit back on as you made your way out of your room, down the hall, and back towards the medbay. Inside was Acosta who seemed to be taking a break from the woman in the wall and working on inventory. You walked in the room, watching as he looked up from his clipboard and towards you, his expression falling.

“Hey, you know the-”

“Acosta, please...I’m fine,” You shrugged and made your way over to the gloves, pulling a pair out before putting them on, “I did what the Commander told me to do and cooled off, I’m not just going to sit in my room forever.”

Acosta didn’t want to be the one to admit it, but he agreed with the Commander. Your mental state was failing the longer you were on board the Cloverfield Station - at this point it was only a guessing game as to when you would snap like Volkov or Schmidt. But Acosta cared for you, looked at you as if you were family, he was worried, but he knew how to talk with you about it.

“Yes, you cooled off...but how are you feeling still?” You opened your mouth to speak before catching Acosta turn and look over his shoulder, “Don’t lie to me, I am a doctor after all.”

You smiled at his joke, rolling your eyes before you sat up on the examination table, shrugging your shoulders. “Honestly? Not great.” Nodding, Acosta turned now and made his way to the examination table you were sitting on, leaning against it beside you.

“I know...you know, when I was looking over files to see who would be a good fit for the medical bay with me, you were always my top choice,” The confession surprised you, your gaze looking over at him as he smiled and nodded, “It’s true...I was always impressed with your work. When the Commander told me about your psychological evaluation and your low score, I didn’t care. You’re a great nurse and that’s what I care about.”

You could feel your eyes watering, but you didn’t care if Acosta saw you cry - it was Acosta after all. The words of encouragement were ones you had heard before, but coming from him, someone who had mentored you the past two years, it meant more than anything.

“We all have our faults, that doesn’t make us bad...what makes us bad is living by those faults and letting that define you.” Feeling his hand on your shoulder, you leaned into his touch before falling into a hug, wrapping your arms around his middle as he did the same to you, holding you close.

He smelled of warmth, bay rum, a father’s embrace. Acosta reminded you deeply of your own father - caring, quiet, and yet at the same time so full of knowledge that his mind alone could make up for the lack of his own words. He knew what to say and when to say it.

Pulling away, your hands rested on his back while you stared at him, smiling before closing your eyes as he leaned it, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline. “Don’t let the bad thoughts take away from all that you’ve achieved. You’ve done so much just to let your own mind take that away from you.”

Nodding, you brought your knuckles to your eyes and swiped away the tears, letting out a sigh as your mind lulled, your brain desperately trying to focus on what Acosta was saying.

Think of the good stuff, think of what is true.

Looking up, the corners of your mouth twitched as you stared at Acosta. You nodded once, thanking him before watching him pat your knee and get up to go and continue on with his work. You kept your seat on the examination table before getting up to join Acosta in taking marks on inventory.

As you went to open the cabinet that had the medicine for common colds, the doors to the med bay whooshed open, Schmidt and Tam stumbling in with Volkov in their arms. Setting the clipboard down, you rushed over to the examination table that Volkov was now on.

“How long has he been like this?” Acosta asked, pulling out his small light to look over Volkov’s eyes, “What happened?”

“He tried to kill us!” Schmidt rushed, catching his breath as he stood at the end of the examination table beside Tam, motioning towards Volkov as he stayed unconscious on the table. It was the Commander, who must have followed them in, that spoke up next.

“Tam? Why do you have a gun?” He demanded. You hadn’t noticed until you finally looked at Tam, seeing the gun that was

When Tam explained that he had approached them on the X-Deck, threatened them with it, your heart sank. You looked over at Schmidt, a worried expression glazed over your eyes while he shook his head, silently telling you that it was fine and that he would tell you about it later.

“Just lock it away, Tam!” At this point, Mundy and Hamilton were joining the rest of the crew in the medbay, watching as Acosta and yourself looked over Volkov. While Acosta used his flashlight to look down his throat, you pressed your fingers to his wrist, feeling for a pulse.

You tried to focus on finding a pulse, moving your two fingers up and down his wrist. You figured that because he was unconscious, his pulse would be harder to find - evidently he wasn’t as unconscious as you thought to believe because when he suddenly grabbed your wrist, you let out a gasp and stepped back, tugging your wrist out of his grasp and stumbling back, the Commander caught you from falling and kept you pulled back away from Volkov who began to finally spit up blood and violently shake.

“W-What’s happening?” You found yourself asking, although nobody seemed to truly know what the hell was going on, all standing around in shock at the disturbing sight of Volkov. His convulsions grew more rapid before finally his spine snapped up, silence deafening the room as he fell down before being replaced by the sound of his flatline.

You never were a fan of Volkov, but you would be lying to yourself if you said that you were happy to see him gone in such a gruesome matter. You wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even your worst enemy, not even Volkov.

“No...no.”

Glancing to your right, you frowned at the sight of Mundy, who slowly approached the end of the examination table, looking down at Volkov. Hamilton extended her arm out to console Mundy, but then suddenly out of nowhere, Volkov was at it again, only this time it was one final blow.

The worms that came out of Volkov’s mouth was one thing, but the quantity of the slimy earthworms that erupted from him. They coaxed the floors and your feet like mud, impossible to step away from them as you, like the rest of the crew, began to stomp down on them, desperately trying to get them away and off of you.

When the worms suddenly stopped, lying now on the floor, you leaned against the wall, catching your breath after the incident that just happened. Your eyes glanced at Schmidt who was looking at Tam to see if she was okay. You smiled weakly and looked around the rest of the room, noticing that everyone else seemed to be okay as well.

“Well we found the worms.”

You didn’t know if it was Mundy’s poorly timed joke, the excessive amount of worms on the ground and the guts that were seeped into your shoes, or the horrifying sight of Volkov on the table, but something made your stomach churn, and you followed Hamilton closely as the both of you rushed out of the room, back into your quarters to throw up.

Your body hurled over the toilet, the sudden smell becoming almost unbearable. You quickly flushed the toilet before leaning back to shut the lid of the toilet seat, standing up and sitting now on the toilet while you brushed your teeth, trying your best to get the taste out of your mouth.

Leaning over the sink, you spit out the contents of your mouth, rinsing your toothbrush off before cupping your hand under the sink to collect water, bringing to your lips to intake and swish around your mouth, spitting the water out after a moment.

Making your way out of your bathroom, you wiped the beads of sweat that collected over your forehead off, leaning against the doorway to catch your breath. You kept your eyes closed, taking slow deep breaths in and gently exhaling through your mouth. You stayed this way until you heard your door open and shut.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Your attention shifted from the floor and up in front of you to Schmidt who now held you in an embrace, his hands placed on either side of your face, looking over you to make sure you were fine.

Shaking your head, you leaned forward and buried your face into his neck, hugging him tight as you began to cry.

“Volkov...I-,” You whimpered and clung to his suit tighter, “Ernst, I can’t unsee that. Even when I blink I can see him lying on that table and I don’t think I will ever get that sight out of my mind. What if that was yo-”

“But it wasn’t...it wasn’t! Hey, look at me,” He pulled your head back carefully, his thumbs running along your face as he swiped away your tears, pressing a kiss in between your brows, “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m always going to be here.”

At this point he had pulled you back into his arms, cradling your head into his neck as he rocked side to side, his right hand on the back of your head while the other rubbed your back.

“I want to go home, Schmidt...I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t!” You thought of your family, your small home in the country. You always thought you were trapped in that home, sharing a room with your younger sister until you left for school. But now that you were in space, stuck aboard the ship, you only wished to be back in your room with Mila.

Schmidt’s heart sank, wincing at the sounds of your cries and pleads to return home. He wasn’t sure what to do, how to comfort you in that moment. You couldn’t reach your family, so calling was off the table, all he could do was hold you and listen to you cry. Eventually your sobs stopped and were replaced by faint whimpers that vibrated against his neck.

“I’ll get you home. I promise, I promise you’ll see your family again. But you have to stay strong until then, okay?” Schmidt kissed the top of your head, squeezing you one more time before pulling you back to coax you into your bed, laying you down before getting in beside you.

“You don’t have to-”

“I know, but I want to. I don’t think Tam is in any hurry right now, and neither am I.” You were surprised to hear him put you first - you understood why he never did given your secrecy of relationship and the fact that his role on the station was so important. But even now, after everything, hearing him put you first even for just a few minutes, it made you realize just how much you were in love with him.

You leaned forward and kissed his forehead, cradling his head now close to you as you laid with him. Your fingers running through his hair while his ran along your waist under your shirt. If it weren’t for how exhausted you were, you would have asked him how he was doing.

He wasn’t surprised to see you fall asleep so quickly, given how startling things were today for you. While he watched you sleep, holding onto him as if he were your teddy bear, he knew that he would need to leave you to go and get some work done. Schmidt didn’t want to, but he knew that he had to.

Gently pulling your hands away from him, he moved out from the bed and laid your arms down, watching as you shifted your position to your other side, your back facing him as you now faced the wall. Schmidt smiled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before tucking you in, standing back up to turn and exit your room.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Evidently you needed sleep. You had hardly done anything that day, but given the circumstances of what went down with Volkov, all you wanted to do was sleep off that nightmare. You were only slightly disappointed to see that Schmidt was no longer with you, assuming that he was back up on the X-Deck with Tam.

Rolling into the pillow beside you, you pressed your face into it, letting out a sigh before intaking the faint scent of Schmidt that lingered onto the pillow from his time sleeping in your room. He smelled like home - happiness, love, and your mother’s baked goods.

Mama, she would love Ernst.

You knew that you needed to stop dwelling on your family. The lost communication signal and being so far away from Earth should have motivated you to want to help more, but instead it made you scared - your mind fleeting instead of fighting.

When the doors to your room opened, the light footsteps rushed in, cutting you off from your thoughts, you frowned and moved your head up from the pillow, your glare softening once you saw Tam.

“Tam? What are you-”

“It’s Schmidt!” She rushed, pointing towards the door. She began talking so fast that you could hardly make out what she was saying.

“Slow down, Tam, what are you saying?” You focused on her words slowly, trying your best to make out what she was telling you in Mandarian before you finally made out what she was telling you. The Commander had taken Schmidt to the airlock; apparently Jensen, the woman from the wall, was accusing him of working with German Intelligence to keep the Shepard offline.

Shooting up from your bed, you shook your head and got up, making your way towards Tam, “No, no that’s not true. Schmidt wouldn’t do that.” Tam nodded her head and sighed, of course she knew that - anyone who had a brain on board knew that Schmidt wasn’t the enemy. Sure he had his moments where his anger got the best of him, making it hard to see how he was any different from Volkov, but he was different, he was good and he wouldn’t betray you like that.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you had to see him. Excusing yourself from your room, you quickly rushed out and down the hall, making your way towards the airlock that was on the other side. Weaving through the halls, you cut the corners sharp, trying to not get caught by anyone and get down to him as quickly as you could.

Finally, after what felt like a dozen mazes you had gone through, you finally reached the airlock. Making your way up to the door, arms crossed with a frown on your face, you watched Schmidt raise his head from his knees, squinting towards you before rolling his eyes, looking the other way.

“Whatever it is you’re here to lecture me on, I’ve heard it already.”

You weren’t surprised by his irritated remark - hell, if you were thrown in isolation, you’d be pretty pissed too. Your mouth twitched into a smile before you shook your head, leaning against the small opening of the door, your forehead pressed against the glass.

“Do you always have to see me as the enemy? Even now, I think it’s safe to say that I’m here as a friend.” You explained, watching as his head slowly turned back towards you, his body language seeming to calm down.

“Just a friend?” He questioned, his own smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

You smiled and shook your head, your eyes gazing as he stood up and made his way towards the door, leaning forward to mimic your stance, his forehead pressed where your’s would be on the glass.

“More than a friend.” You finally answered, your fingers coming up to rest against the glass, running down where his face sat behind the glass. God you wished you were there with him, to hold him and feel his warm skin against your own.

His fingers raised up to the glass, pressing down where yours sat on the other side, a sigh escaping him - the glass in front of his mouth fogging over.

“I don’t believe them, you know. I know whatever Jensen said was a lie. You wouldn’t do that, Ernst. You’re better than that.” His mouth twitched into a smile and nodded, pulling away from the glass after a moment. He took a step back and stared at you, watching as you frowned, head tilted to the side.

“I wouldn’t say I’m better than that. Now you’re just making me sound like the good guy.” He noted, crossing his arms over his chest. You matched his posture, growing a little annoyed at the sudden lack of faith in himself.

“And aren’t you? You expect me to believe that this was expected of you?” You laughed and shook your head, tears welling in your eyes, “You’re insufferable, you know that? Can’t ever just believe in yourself can you? Always have to live up to what others think of you.”

“Can you blame me? I think it’s fair to say that I’ve had enough and tha-”

“And what?!” You snapped, cutting him off. You dropped your head down for a moment to catch your breath, looking back up at him after a moment. “How do you think I see you? Like the others?”

You took a step towards the window again, staring him down.

“You know what I see? A man who is too stubborn for his own good, who thinks that arguing with everyone to prove a point will get him anywhere,” You paused when you saw his head drop, standing like a child who knows he did something wrong. “I see someone who is too scared to ask someone to just believe them because you’re afraid that nobody will.”

Stopping, you took a deep breath before continuing, “But I also see someone who smart, funny despite your poorly executed jokes, and someone that I lov-”

You cut yourself off quick before the word could come out. Mouth gaped open in shock, you stared ahead at Schmidt who was equally shocked, his head snapped up and staring at you. The tears were now falling from your cheeks, face even redder than before as you shook your head, taking a step back as he took one forward.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No, wait!”

But you didn’t listen to him. You ignored his pleads for you to come back, to finish what you were about to say. Your chest tightened, your heart hurting as you left the hall, flinching every time his scream for you became louder until finally there was nothing.

When you finally managed to escape the embarrassment of confessing your love at the worst time, you realized that you were down by the medbay. You were pleased to see that Acosta was in there, continuing to work on taking inventory in - the last thing you wanted to be right now was alone.

As you headed inside, his attention pulled from his clipboard and towards you, a weak smile on his face, “You okay?” He asked, noticing your clear discomfort. To him he only knew of Volkov, and how you ran out of the room at the sight of him throwing up the worms, he didn’t know that you were on the brink of tears from your moment with Schmidt.

“I-I think so...maybe, I don’t know,” You sighed and immediately went to work, trying to distract yourself, “I just think everything is finally getting to me. Seeing Volkov like that...I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even-” You paused and took a deep breath, closing your eyes before shaking your head.

“It makes you really understand death, how it can come out of nowhere and take anyone, right in front of you,” Your mind went to Schmidt, your family, the rest of the crew on board. Dying was one thing, but to die so horrible and unexpected, that was an entirely different kind of pain. “It makes you wonder about him, what his family must be thinking - if he had any.”

Acosta turned and looked at you, frowning as your back turned to him, continuing to work on your own inventory sheet, “If you live everyday dwelling on the idea of death, you won’t ever enjoy life…” His words paused your work, looking up from the clipboard and turning slightly over to him, watching as he approached you, “What is it that you’re afraid of?”

It took you back, the question. What were you afraid of? Well you were scared of many things - spiders, the dark, and frogs ever since your brother decided to cover you in them when you went camping. But those were silly fears, ones that didn’t eat you away. What you were so afraid of, was losing all your loved ones, to be alone.

“I’m afraid of-” You words fell silent, your breath hitching to your throat as you looked around, finding the confession silly now, “I’m afraid that once we leave the station, I won’t see anyone again. That Ernst will go back home and all of this, all of this was just because of the circumstances we were in.”

And then it hit you - why you were so afraid to tell him. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed or in doubt, you were afraid that he wouldn’t feel the same, that when you told him whatever you two had built over your time on the station would disappear in a flash.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Acosta took the napkin in his pocket and dabbed your cheeks. A weak laugh escaped from you as you shook your head, “It feels like everyday I’m crying more and more.”

“You’re human, crying is normal,” Pulling away from you, he threw the napkin in the trash as your tears soaked through it, leaving it thin and tattered. “Don’t ever apologize for showing emotions. God only knows we could show a little more around here.”

You smiled and shook your head, “You could say that aga-”

But before he could, the medbay doors opened and the Commander came rushing in, his face contorted into a scowl when he locked eyes on you. Did he catch you going down to see Schmidt? What did you do now?

“Commander, is there something we can help you wit-”

“Monk, I need you to be honest with me,” The Commander began, his gaze still locked on you, “How often is she down here alone? What does she do when you’re not here?”

Acosta took a step back, baffled at the questions that the Commander was asking him. Was he trying to accuse you of something?

“Commander, I don’t know what you’re trying to go on about, but if you’re accusing her of doing something I would like to know what it is-”

“We have reason to believe that she is stashing medicine away to take back with her when we land as part of the ongoing alliance with Germany against Russia.”

The laugh that escaped from you did not help your case, but what in the actual fuck was the Commander on? Reason to believe? Who was feeding him this bullshit?

“Commander, this is ridiculous! Why would I be stealing medicine? You know that I wouldn’t do anything to harm anyone on this ship,” You were taken back when the Commander walked over to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you with him, “What are you- let me go!” You cried, desperately trying to pull away.

Acosta attempted to grab you, but quickly stopped when the Commander turned around, “No, Monk! I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not risking another life on board this ship. Until we get back, her and Schmidt stay locked up. If Jensen is right, then we need them to be kept awa-”

“Jensen? The woman from the wall? That’s who is telling you this? Where is your integrity, Commander, if you can’t even trust your own crew?”

The Commander’s eyes fell to you, staring at you for a moment. Inside he knew that it was wrong of him to be so hostile towards his crew, but after everything that happened, he didn’t want to take any chances. He shook his head and kept silent, pulling you with him out of the medbay and down the hall.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The blow to the floor knocked the wind from you - rolling to your side, you groaned and laid your palms flat on the ground before pushing yourself up, catching your balance before staring at the Commander through the small window of the airlock.

“Commander, you know this is ridiculous!” You yelled, watching as he shook his head and waved you off. Scoffing, you threw your hands up in defeat before taking a step closer to the door. “You’re going to believe Jensen? The woman who came out of the wall? Someone who is from a different dimension? Over your own team-”

“Enough!” The Commander roared and you cowered back, stopping in your tracks by Schmidt who was behind you, his hand on your back to keep you from tumbling back.

Letting out a sigh, straightening up, the Commander shook his head, almost in a disappointed way. “We trusted you both, for two years. Two years we saw you as our friends and just to find this? Messages to Germany and Serbia on complying with orders to keep the Shepard offline? To steal medical supplies for your own good?” The Commander paused and looked over the two of you carefully, his eyebrows bunched together.

“We trusted you...and you betrayed us. You’re going to sit here until we get back to base and then you’re going to explain to everyone why you did what you did.”

Before you could get a word out, the Commander was already turned and heading down the hall, leaving you and Schmidt in the airlock. You let out a sigh and felt your shoulders sink before dropping your head down into your hands, hiding your face in case you needed to cry.

Schmidt, while doing his best to comfort you, was still confused by earlier when you stopped by to see him when he was first thrown in isolation. The two of you hardly argued the way you did and his mind was still racing on what you were going to tell him. Of course he had an idea, but he wanted to hear it from you - he didn’t want the assumption.

“What happ-”

“What do you think happened, Schmidt? That bitch from the wall has everyone convinced now that I’m part of whatever scheme they think you’re on!” You shoved yourself away from him, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned your back to him, seething in your own anger.

He wasn’t taken back by your outburst, that he had come to face before, but took him back was his name - his last name to be exact. You never called him Schmidt unless you were absolutely pissed beyond pissed, it was always Ernst.

Catching your arm, Schmidt tugged you back to face him, a glare casted over his own face, matching yours. You went to push him off you again but he caught your wrist, tightening his grip around both wrists now as he pushed you against the wall, pining you in place.

“I’m not the enemy here, remember?” Pinned to the wall, your hands beside either side of your head, you glared and moved your foot up, gently kicking him back until he stumbled away, giving you the opportunity to dominate him, grabbing his waist and tugging him down until he was pinned onto the floor under you. With your hands on his wrists, pinning them above his head, you sat on his lap, looking down at him.

“I remember, but right now, you’re being a real pain in my ass.”

As the two of you huffed, glaring at one another, it was you who finally made a move, leaning forward and kissing him deeply, his hands instantly breaking out of your grasp and coming to your head, holding you close as the two of you kissed.

His neck strained as he leaned up to kiss you, soon growing tired of the burning in his neck and sitting up fully, moving your legs to wrap around his waist as you continued to kiss. You became needy quickly, unzipping his suit to push down until it settled at his waist, the shirt under his suit coming off just as fast as your own shirt did.

In the moment that led up to you sitting in the airlock undressed, on Schmidt’s lap, you all but forgot your surroundings, realizing just how exposed you were to anyone who wanted to come near the room.

“Schmidt, wait, someone is going to-”

“Nobody is going to see us. Someone will hear us if you don’t keep quiet.” He insisted, his mouth open as he tried to catch his breath. His suit was around his knees, shirt discarded with the rest of your clothes while you hovered over his dick naked. Schmidt did prefer the comfort of your room to fuck you in, but in the heated moment the two of you shared, pissed at the world around you and deciding to take it out on each other, this would do.

Blushing at his words, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodding, doing your best to keep quiet while you rested your knees on his thighs, feeling him guide himself into you, his free hand coming to grab your waist, moving you to settle down on his dick. Your head fell back as you moaned, clinging to his shoulders while your hips rocked down onto him, Schmidt’s head falling forward into your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts before nipping at the skin of your neck and jaw.

“You’re so beautiful...how did I get so lucky?” He murmured, pressing wet kisses up your neck before finally looking into your eyes. Your gaze was locked on Schmidt’s as you continued to ride him, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck, forehead pressed against his as you raised up and sank back down onto his dick.

“Shh, don’t, don’t say that,” You whimpered at his words, closing your eyes tightly. You didn’t know why you were getting overemotional, but his words were so soft compared to how rough he was thrusting up into you - it didn’t hurt, but it didn’t match the tone of his words. “Please, Schmidt, just fuck me.”

And he did. He kept his grip locked down on your hips as he guided you up and down his dick, the sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing the room. You couldn’t bite your moans back any longer and pressed your lips to his shoulder, moaning into his skin to muffle you. His lips found your own shoulder, biting and sucking dark bruises into your skin, his pace quickening as he felt you tighten around him.

“Желим те, please Schmidt, oh, plea-”

“What? What do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, liebling.” You whined at his words and felt your core tighten, locking in place sunken onto his dick while he gasped, his fingers digging into your ass that was in his lap.

“I want you, Schmidt,” You weren’t quite at your peak just yet, but you were getting close. Schmidt, on the other hand, wasn’t going to let you quit now. Tugging your head back by your hair, he stared up at you, smirking to himself at the sight of you.

“Not yet,” He warned, one hand in your hair, the other around your waist. He needed to hear it from you, what you were going to tell him, “Not until you tell me what you were going to say.”

It caught you off guard, his demand. Of all the times he wanted you to think, now wasn’t the time. Casting your gaze down at him, eyebrows knitted close, you shook your head, confused.

“I don’t, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You whined when he thrusted up in you suddenly, trying to get you to focus, “Ernst...please...I don’t remem-”

“When you came to see me earlier - you said all those things about me, you didn’t finish the last part,” He kept his hips moving up into you, reaching his peak as he stared up at you. All he wanted to do was cum in you as you told him that you loved him, “Please...just tell me.”

He was so desperate to hear the confession. His eyes glazed over as he pressed his forehead to you, closing his eyes tightly. If you didn’t love him as much as you did, you might’ve found him to be rather pathetic at the moment.

“Волим те,” You whispered, clinging to him as your orgasm began to finally hit you. You whined and wrapped your arms around him tighter, your legs shaking as you pressed your lips to his cheek, peppering his face with kisses, “Волим те....Волим те….Волим те.”

Of course you had to say it in Serbian - the one language Schmidt still had yet to learn. Before he could beg you to tell him in English, he felt his cock twitch in you and his orgasm finally hit. With a grunt, he sank his teeth into your shoulder, panting against your skin as he came down from his high. You on the other hand, went limp against him, trying to catch your breath.

Both of you sat like that for a few moments, catching your breath while gently petting one another. Your hands running up and down his neck while his went up and down your back. When your brain finally cleared, you sat back and looked down at him, a smile on your face. Schmidt smiled back up at you, taking your face into his hands before kissing you softly.

The kiss was sweet, delicate, pure. This was the Schmidt that you knew, your Ernst - your beloved spaceman. You knew despite all his pent up anger, he was good and gentle. When you both pulled away from the kiss, his mouth fell open to speak, but was cut off by the door opening, although nobody was standing outside.

“Did you do that?” Schmidt found himself asking, staring in shock at the door. Your attention was pulled from the door and at him.

“Ernst, how could I have opened the door if I’m sitting on your dick?” You questioned. You watched his cheeks go red, his eyes glancing towards you before nodding, “Right…”

Helping you up, the two of you quickly pulled your clothes back on, smoothing your hair down to not make it so obvious that you had jumped each other's bones in the airlock. You cleared your throat and took a step forward to see what it was that let you out before coming to a sudden stop by Schmidt.

“Wait, I’ll go first. You just stay back, okay?” You knew there wasn’t time to argue. You obeyed and stayed back, lingering in the doorway of the airlock while Schmidt ventured out, the faint tapping noise picking up the farther he got out.

“Be careful!” You warned, your fingers toying with the string of your sweatpants. Your gaze kept locked on Schmidt as he continued to move down the hall, his steps soon slowing to a stop as he turned, looking down the other end of the hall. He seemed to be in shock with whatever it was that he saw.

“What? What is it-” As you made your way towards him, your own gaze went down the hall where the noise was coming from, your words cut off by your gasp at the sight of a single arm crawling down the hallway.

“Stay here, make sure it doesn’t leave!” Turning, Schmidt quickly rushed back to the door of the airlock, pressing down on the intercom to get everyone down there. “I need the whole crew on M-Deck, as fast as you can.”

Your eyes kept focused on the arm that was crawling to you, stepping back once as if it were going to jump at you. From your spot down the hall you heard the Commander ask who had let them out of the airlock, all for Schmidt to urge them to hurry.

As Schmidt made his way back towards you, standing beside you, both of you couldn’t take your eyes off the arm. It looked to be Mundy’s arm, but you weren’t sure if it was or wasn’t. Of all the things that were happening, this was by far the strangest.

It didn’t take long for the crew to make their way down to M-Deck, the rest of the crew surrounding you and Schmidt as he pointed towards the end of the hall, the arm continuing to make it’s slow approach towards you. When you looked over at Mundy who was beside you, your eyes widened at the sight of his missing arm.

Well that would explain the arm crawling around.

“We need to catch it,” Hamilton explained suddenly. She was right, you couldn’t just stand around watching it, “I’ll go get something.”

While she rushed off to find something to capture the arm, Tam and Schmidt rushed forward, grabbing it and holding it steady until Hamilton came back with a glass box, placing it over the arm to trap it.

“Be careful with it!” Mundy cried. Looking up at him, you offered an apologetic smile, “I just don’t want them to break it.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Mundy.”

He winced slightly, lips pulling to a thin smile before looking back ahead as Schmidt approached Mundy. You were just as annoyed as Mundy was when Schmidt asked if he were controlling his arm.

“I’m not controlling it! It’s over there!” Mundy explained, motioning towards his arm that was kept in the box.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure! Because right now I’m giving you the finger!” The two men locked eyes for a moment, as if ready to start arguing before turning back towards the arm.

“How is that alive?” You found yourself asking, crossing your arms over your chest as you took a step closer towards it, wanting to take a closer look. Before you could get too close, Schmidt pulled you back.

“Don’t get too close to it, we don’t know what-”

“It’s my bloody fucking arm, Schmidt! What else could it be?” Letting go of you, Schmidt sighed as he glanced around the room.

“One thing is clear. The overload did it. None of us believed it was real, but this is the paradox,” Of course nobody wanted to believe him, it was too out there to believe that it was real. “Particles interacting with each other across different dimensions. Two distinct realities in a multiverse...fighting to occupy the same space, creating chaos.”

Schmidt paused for a moment, catching his breath from his scientific explanation, Mundy having a seat to process everything while everyone else stayed frozen in their spots around each other.

“These aren’t the things we know...because they don’t belong to us.”

And then it began to click with everyone. Jensen, Schmidt’s communication logs, your own hidden stash of medicine that the Commander found. This wasn’t from your reality, but another.

"While another paradox is thriving, our's is burning...failing." You mumbled. You glanced over at the Commander, who looked between you and Schmidt in guilt. Of course you were still pissed at the accusation, but it seemed to finally click with him that you were telling the truth. Yes, Jensen was too, but that was in her reality, not your’s.

“Uh, guys. I think my arm is trying to write something.”

Looking over your shoulder towards Mundy’s arm that was captured, you were only slightly surprised to see that it was, in fact, trying to write something.

“Quick, somebody get a pen!” At the Commander’s order, Hamilton quickly turned and looked around for a pen, coming back with a red marker and handing it to Mundy, who gave it to his own arm.

“Oh, that’s creepy.” He groaned, stepping back to watch his arm.

As his arm began to scribble, the crew surrounded the glass cage, reading the words CUT VOLKOV OPEN.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Standing on the other side of the table that Volkov lied on. You glanced ahead at Acosta who held the knife in his hand, shaking as it hovered over Volkov’s chest. He seemed uncomfortable, not able to cut open into him. When he dropped the knife, he sighed and looked around.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do it.”

“Come on, you’re the doctor-”

“Give it to me, Acosta,” You explained, cutting Mundy off with your hand extended out in front of you. When Acosta did, you took a deep breath and looked down at Volkov. It was almost as if he were sleeping, and perhaps that’s why it took you a moment before finally cutting into him.

The knife sinking into his chest wasn’t the worst part, cutting down until you had enough to rip open. It was ripping him open that made your stomach turn. Taking a hold of either side of his opened chest, you broke open his front, trying to ignore the tearing sounds and the smell from his organs.

When the smell hit you in the face, you jolted back, your arm coming up to your face to cover your nose and mouth, gagging harshly. You shook your head as Tam came up to you, holding your hand in front of her.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” You smiled weakly at her before turning back to Volkov, exhaling through your mouth before going back in.

Your hands sank into Volkov’s organs, surprised to feel the warmth still in him. It reminded you of Thanksgiving with your family, how you always refused to stuff the turkey because you hated the feeling of the guts.

“Mama, please, I don’t want to do this, you know I hate it!” You whined, your face turned away as your hands sank into the turkey, your face going green.

“Oh just smile! I want to put this in the scrapbook!” Your mother insisted, holding a camera to your face.

You winced and peeked an eye open, “Mama!” You whined, earning a laugh from your father who sat at the table prepping the potatoes with your brother and sister.

“Come on dear, just smile once for your mother, it’ll be over before you know it.” Your father cooed, pausing his moments from slicing the potatoes to look over at you near the oven.

Groaning, you glared slightly for a moment before complying, opening your eyes and smiling weakly at the camera, watching as the flash went off before your mother grinned at you.

“Okay, I think that was enough torture for you. Go wash up and come back and you can help me with the pie.”

Ripping your hands from the turkey, you quickly rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the bathroom, the repeated “ew, ew, ew” echoing throughout the home.

You tried to not think about what you were digging through, your eyes sealed tight as your arms sank in Volkov more, elbows deep before finally feeling something. It felt cold, sphere shaped, something that clearly didn’t belong inside of someone’s organs.

“I found something!” You exclaimed, gripping onto whatever you caught and slowly pulling it out of Volkov. When you stood up straight, holding out what you found, you nearly dropped it in shock. It was the gyro.

The missing gyro was inside Volkov.

[j10kkuno]

The Sykks, the Guses, Ray, and Conan: Broken Bonds Reconnecting in Los Santos

OR: Have some family headcanons until all of these get negated by canon Nopixel because I'm a writer and these things are what I thrive on.

The most defining part of this that impacts everything like a domino effect: The Sykk family is rich rich. Like Yuno's great grandfather made some understated everyday product everyone uses. Reasons why I say this: Yuno/his parents had enough money to put him through college for several years only for him to fail and he still had enough money in his trust fund to run away to Los Santos, pay for an apartment, get settled, pay bills, etc. That's not just parents with good jobs. Also, Euno has a history in the States(Dating Conan, seems on good terms ish with Yuno, suggesting they grew up together), but according to wiki he's been in Europe but also decided to up and move to LS for reasons related to Yuno and moving back and forth and back between continents is very pricy and complicated and you have to leave people behind which is really hard so yeah. Sykk family is rich rich.

Due to that, Yuno and Euno both grew up with a list of expectations they had to live up to, Euno was meant to inherit the French branch of their company, they were both expected to be straight, rebellion was frowned upon, etc. Just everything you'd expect from people of their status and think of Yuno's personality and what Sykkuno wants to use Euno to do in game and how stifling that would be for them.

I was reading a headcanon on Yuno and Ray Mond yesterday about their parents being divorced and that's why they have different last names and I have a thought on that.

Basically, I'm thinking that Yuno's mom was having fertility issues and his dad was frustrated and like all rich men, strayed and cheated with Ms. Mond, an employee at the company's office, who got pregnant. His parents frowned and worried about reputation because they're very traditional, but when they found out Ms. Mond was pregnant with twins, they allowed him to keep the boy, but the girl had to be sent away. Ms. Mond was very unhappy, but she was paid well. Mrs. Sykk was unhappy but thankful the moment Yuno, three hours old, was placed in her arms. Yuno was never told his mom isn't biologically his mother, but she's the only mom he'll ever have, despite her expectations.

Mrs. Sykk's brother is Mr. Gus and Yuno grew up seeing Amon and Bin quite often. They were his favorite cousins. However, when they were around 8-10ish, the Gus family disappeared. Yuno cried for ages and over time, memories have faded but he has vague memories of them. In reality, the Gus parents are killed in a brutal car accident where the car is set on fire. An onlooker is barely able to save the children. All identification is burned and the children hit their heads so there's no way to identify them so because they're on vacation, they're forced into the local foster care system with only each other to cling to. Memories of their past life come and go, including of Yuno, which Bin especially can hold onto.

Ray grew up living a normal life in the midwest with a single mom. The Sykks paid off Ms. Mond handsomly, but she still worked to make ends meet so Ray could have most of that money for college/as an adult. Her life was dedicated to Ray. When Ray was 18, she stumbled across the contract, but didn't say anything until a big blow out fight a few years later and then Ms. Mond tells her everything and then Ray starts looking for Yuno, who she finds in LS. One day, she'll meet the Sykks and go off on them, but be kindest to Yuno's mom, who just wanted a child to please her husband and in law and feel like she wasn't a failure.

Yuno and Euno both felt like they didn't fit in with business and snobby rich people, both enjoying pranks and crime shows but Euno was able to pretend much better. His father was in charge of the French branch of their company, and they made sure he split his time evenly between the States and France as a child. As a young adult, he chose Columbia University in Liberty City for college(Ivy League school btw, Yuno also attended an Ivy League but the family preferred Dartmouth. Columbia was viewed as Euno's big rebellion). He wanted to get lost in the bustle of the city and find a place to be himself. And he does, in a young Conan Clarkson. He was a criminal justice major at a much less prestigious university but he captured Euno's heart easily. Conan let him joke around, let him be vulnerable when all his life Euno was told a man never lets anyone sees his vulnerabilities, and never, ever expects anything but love from him. Euno wishes their time together could last forever, but he knows eventually, he'll be expected to return to France. And he is, as soon as he graduates, and he asks Conan to come with. Conan's already been accepted to the Police Academy in Los Santos. Conan asks him to come with to Los Santos, but Euno has been prepped his entire life to take a position at the French branch and he's not strong enough to say no. It hurts like hell, but they break up. And Euno is miserable. Business isn't for him and now that he knows who he is he hates the person he has to pretend to be.

A few years later, Yuno tells him he's in Los Santos and his found family and how nice it is and the nice cops and Euno always loved hearing about Conan's major and passions so he asks more about the police program and so he and Yuno plans. And in the middle of the night, Euno leaves Paris with only as much as his suitcase will carry and catches a flight to LS. Three nights later, he runs into Conan at the pier, and well, it takes a few months, but home is where the heart is and Euno's home has been Los Santos for a lot longer than anyone knew.

Meanwhile, Yuno is overjoyed to be reunited with the Gus brothers and tells them about their past and introduces them to Ray, who is super excited to meet more family(!!!). The four feels like they were meant to meet all along and be family and now that they've met, they refuse to be parted. Yuno's family tries, and they really try with Euno, the once golden child, but neither of them are budging. They've made a home in Los Santos and they're not leaving it for anything. (Euno's little brother is very happy to suddenly be the heir of the French branch so it all works out)

[thiswasinevitableid]

if you're in the mood for requests i would absolutely LOVE something from the hidebehind au? (maybe including blindfold sex??)

Here you go! I decided to do this for monster march. We’ll figure this counts as prompt 18: claws.

All things considered, Duck is lucky. He’s employed which, given when the newspapers are calling the great depression raging across the country, is a blessing. His days are spent among the mighty trees of the Pacific Coast, he has a small cabin all to himself, and a cat to keep the mice away. 

He just wishes he wasn’t working for a fucking logging company hundreds of miles away from anyone he’s ever known. 

Winthrop Logging needed someone with an arborist or botanists training to make sure the woods stayed healthy before they were chopped down. So they pay Duck a fine sum to make sure diseases or pests don’t send their prospects toppling like dominos. As he traverses his usual route between the trees, he wonders if there will ever be a way to convince them to preserve some of the land rather than profit from it. 

He stops, studying a pine. There it is again, the feeling that someone, or something, is behind him. Watching. Waiting. 

It started three weeks ago, when he was deeper in the woods than usual, humming to himself and occasionally talking to the trees. The skin on his neck prickled, all his senses forcing him from his thoughts and into the present moment; something was there, tracking him as he moved. Not a bear, our a cougar, as the birds still called and the insects chorused. Whatever it was stood directly behind him, yet when he turned to look, there was nothing but the path. 

For the first few days he tried to spot it, never got more than a flicker in the corner of his eye. He came home exhausted, the day spent on high alert as the primal part of his mind demanded he remain on guard for the moment his hunter decided to strike. 

The moment hasn’t come, and Duck is growing used to the gaze crawling up his spine. He decided to ignore it, pretend it was just his imagination and some days that worked. 

Today, there’s no getting around the fact that something is peering over his shoulder. Twice now he’s felt fingers millimeters from his neck. When he feels them again, he reaches his arm back, eyes firmly on his notes, and grabs hold of his stalker.

----------------------------------------------

Humans are not known for their speed. Indrid’s foresight showed this one as no exception, so when the man is fast enough to grab his leg, he chirps in surprise. 

“Fuckin knew it, there is someone back there.” Warm fingers smooth across the short down of his leg.

Indrid appreciates being called a someone instead of a thing, but not the position of Duck’s hand. 

“Please let go. That is my thigh you are grabbing. My upper thigh.”

The hand stays put, “Anyone ever tell you it’s mighty rude to stand right behind a fella when he’s tryin to work?”

“I cannot stand anywhere else, though the proximity is due to-”

“Uh huh, sure, just like you can’t help but play and hide and seek whenever I try to figure out what’s goin on. Lemme guess, you’re one of the other fellas from the loggin camp playin tricks on the new guy?”

“I am nothing of the kind.” Indrid contemplates moving the hand himself, but it feels so very nice.

“One of the locals then? I keep tellin you, I’m a country boy, I’m not gonna get scared by campfire tales or weird noises in the woods. Try that government fella instead.”

“What about the part of me you are touching suggests I am human?”

“Probably a left-over monkey suit or somethin’ from Halloween.”

“I am not a costume, I am a Hidebehind.”

The human pauses, then shakes his head, “No such thing.”

“You are literally touching one.” Indrid stamps his foot, frustrated by the turn this is taking and the fact that futures do not show the human believing him any time soon. 

“Don’t believe I am.” The human turns his head. Indrid’s body whips sideways, keeping him from view. The human holds on, tries again from the opposite direction, only for Indrid to be wrenched back the way he came. 

“Stop movin!”

“Stop trying to look at me!” He’s twisted to the side once more, wrenching the humans arm in the process. 

“Ow!” The grip on him tightens, “quit this fuckin game right now. You don’t lemme see you, I’ll drag you right back to camp with me.”

“I can’t!” Indrid chirps, panicked, the noise continuing into a wail of alarm at what might happen if he’s surrounded with nowhere to hide. 

His fear must register as genuine, as the human releases him with a sigh. After a moment he removes his hat, running his fingers through his hair but not turning around. 

“You still there?” 

“Yes.”

“Why are you even followin me in the first place?”

A peek at the futures says the truth will be most effective, though almost all timelines end with the human telling him to “get gone.”

“I find you intriguing. You do not chop or hack at my home, you study it. You speak to the trees when you think you are alone. You look soft to touch, especially the fur on your head. I like looking at you and being near you. That was why I stood so close.”

“...You been followin me because you’re sweet on me?” The drawl, as soothing as movement of water through plant limbs, seems confused. 

“I do not find you sweet. I could only do that if I ate you. Which I do not want to do.

A chuckle, “Not quite what I meant. You been hangin around me because you think I’m swell and wanna get to know me. Guess I can’t fault you for that, I'm a decent fella to know if I do say so myself.  You got a name?”

“Indrid.” This is an unexpected turn of the timelines. 

“Nice to meet you, Indrid. I’m-”

“-Duck” Indrid says along with him, “apologies, I can see the future and am thus a bit ahead in conversations.”

“Huh. Well, I gotta head back to town. If you wanna talk again, I won’t mind. Just tell me you want to instead of lurkin, you hear?”

Indrid grins, “Yes. I hear you perfectly.”

----------------------------------------------------

“Fuck” Duck picks himself up from the dirt where he fell, brushing pine needles from his coat. He’d been angling for a better look at a set of roots and tripped over a different set in the process. 

“Are you alright?” A now familiar voice asks from behind a tree to his left. 

“Depends. You see me make a fool of myself by fallin on my face?”

“Yes.”

“Then my body is fine but my dignity is real wounded.”

A laugh like spring breeze through new leaves, “I suspect it will recover. You do have quite a deal of leaves in your hair. May I help you with them?”

Duck nods. Slender fingers pluck at his hair.

“Ohhh, it is just as soft as I thought it would be.” Indrid murmurs, “does it feel nice?”

“Don’t feel like much--oh, uh, fuck, that does though. Feels damn good.” Duck groans as claws scritch his scalp. The first time he felt them on his shoulder when Indrid was talking, he tensed; The hidebehind isn’t small, and the claws suggest he could shred Duck to bits and scatter him across the woods. But after weeks of keeping him company, Duck knows the worst Indrid might do to him is steal too much of his lunch. 

The hidebehind, endlessly fascinated by Duck’s job, will sit out of sight as he works. Duck asked him if he only watched Duck the entire time. It turns out the creature draws as well, and Duck now recognizes the sound of a pencil under the rustle of leaves and calls of wildlife. Indrid also spares Duck dangerous climbs into the trees, offering to look at marks or discoloration and describe them if they’re too high for the human to see. 

Turns out he also gives a mean rubdown, his claws moving from Duck’s head to his neck, banishing the knot that’s been bothering him all morning. 

“I like touching you.” Indrid chirps. Duck hasn’t forgotten their first meeting; if a man had come to him with such flattering shyness in his voice and an interest in Ducks body, he’d have been in Duck’s bed by the end of the night. 

He’s not ready to take a hidebehind home, but he’s ready to tease one.

“Seems mighty unfair that you get to touch and I don’t.”

“You would have to close your eyes to so much as shake my hand. My form does not care how little of me you would see, it will pull me into hiding regardless.”

“Then I’ll close my eyes.” Duck does just that, tips his head back so Indrid can see it’s safe. One hand continues massaging his head, while a spindly arm reaches around his chest.

“Bring your arms up, towards you a bit more, yes, there we are.” 

Duck runs his hands over the limb; it reminds him of Manzanita bark he saw in the Sierra Nevadas, smooth but unmistakably of the woods. Towards the elbow the texture changes to soft, short feathers, like the ones on Indrids leg. 

The hidebehind tightens his hold, pulling Duck to his torso. More feathers prickle the back of his neck and the creature shudders. 

“You alright back there?”

“I...it has been so very long since anyone or anything touched me. I foresaw my body being sensitive to it but the intensity is, is-” he lets go so suddenly Duck stumbles, “I am sorry, it was too much and yet I wanted, wanted more.”

Images of Indrid surrounding him, chirping and purring as Duck touches him all over, flood his mind. The embarrassment in his voice keeps the arborist from acting on them. 

“You, uh, gonna show me that Saw-Whet Owl nest?”

“Of course, sweet human. Take the right fork of that deer trail just ahead, and we shall go from there.”

------------------------------------------

“I have something for you. Close your eyes.” 

Duck, still perching on the stump he was using as a lunch chair, does as instructed. Indrid sets a piece of paper in his right hand. 

“You may now look.”

An illustration fills the entire page. It shows a being with stick-like arms and legs leading to a narrow body covered in short, leaf shaped feathers in mottled browns and greens. The face is angular, shaded to suggest it’s dusted with fuzz, and leads to several stick-shaped horns. The eyes are wide and black, the claws long, and there are short, triangular shapes behind its shoulders. 

“Holy fuck, you’ve got wings?”

“Indeed. I do not use them much. I believe they help my kind migrate when our habitats dwindle.”

Duck traces the face on the paper, “How long did it take you to make this?”

“Two days, as the lakes I use to study my reflection tend to attract townspeople and loggers looking to take a break from their toil.”

“You did all this just ‘cause I said I wished I knew what you looked like.”

“Not solely. I...I wanted to show you it as well. So you might know the face of the one who, ah, whose days you brighten.”

Carefully, Duck folds the portrait and tucks it into the inside pocket of his coat, “Find I like my work even better with your company too, ‘Drid. Would you, uh, be okay if I tried to match what you showed me to what I can feel?”

An intrigued chirr floats through the air as Duck shuts his eyes and waves to the ground in front of him. A scuff and rustle of dirt and leaves, and then he feels Indrid in front of him. Cool hands guide his own onto the multicolored feathers.

“Shoulders?”

“Correct.” Indrid moves their joined hands upwards, stopping on velvet-dusted cheeks, “oh, oh goodness, I have always wanted to be held like this.”

“Yeah?” Duck’s heartbeat is in his fingertips, “what else have you always wanted?”

“To, to be touched, to be known, toMMMphohh” a rough tongue laps at his lips as he pulls Indrid into an awkward, bowed kiss. 

“How’s that, darlin?” Duck kisses along what he thinks is Indrids’ jaw, “that the kind of knowin’ you in the mood for?”

“Yes, oh my sweet human you spoil me, oh” claws grab his shoulders, “I, do you really wish this, with me? This was in so few timelines I assumedAH” he squirms adorably as Duck gropes the feathers of his chest.

“You better believe it, sugar. It’s the weirdest goddamn thing I ever wanted and I want it, want you, more than I’ve wanted anything in a long fuckin time.” Curious and eager to fill every one of his senses with Indrid, he buries his face against his upper chest, finds skin beneath all the camouflage and bites down. The hidebehind keens, pulling Duck from his seat into his lap. Duck laughs, bites down once more and gets a nose full of fluff. 

“AhCHOO!” His eyes pop open on reflex after he sneezes, sending the hidebehind out of view and Duck flat on the ground. 

“Blasted physiology” Indrid chirrs, frustrated. 

Duck sits up, Indrid’s cries of pleasure ringing in his ears and giving him all kinds of reckless ideas. 

“Don’t worry, darlin. If my hidebehind wants to romancin’, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

-------------------------------------------------

He takes to wearing a kerchief around his neck at work. The loggers and company pencil pushers assume it’s an affectation, not a tool for covering his eyes for some uninterrupted kisses while deep in the woods.  Today, he’s not sure kisses will be enough. 

Duck woke up hard, dream of Indrid looming above him in bed fading into the morning sun. His hidebehind has yet to show himself, so the humans mind has nothing but his fantasies to distract him on his trek through the woods. 

He’s ahead on his tasks for the day. He’s five miles deep in the woods. And he’s got an idea. 

After rinsing his hands with water from his canteen, he leans back against a tree and undoes his suspenders, followed by his fly. Closing his eyes, he slips his fingers into his underwear, teasing himself and sending soft moans into the air. It doesn’t take long before he’s wet enough to push two up into himself with ease.

“‘Drid” he gasps, letting his head loll back, “‘Drid, fuck, that feels so fuckin good.”

A single leaf crunches in front of him, and his kerchief slowly slides up his face to shield his eyes. 

“It is about to feel much better, dear one.” Indrid kisses the top of his head, “Shall I take this shameless display as evidence that you wish for me to, ah, fuck you?”

“That it does. And I’ll have you know I got plenty of shaAAmeWHoah.” Duck flails as his pants fall down and his body flies up in one smooth motion. Indrids claws prick his thighs as he spreads them open, holding him against the trunk with ease. 

“So very polite of my sweet one to prepare himself for me. It makes this all the easier.” A round, bumpy cock teases his folds, pressing in with a stretch that makes Duck twist in his lovers hold. 

“Fuck, fuck, that’s so fucking good but holy fuck, are you packin a fuckin pine tree down thereOH, ohfuckdarlin, that’s, that’s as far as it’s gonna go.”

“Half of it? My, who knew my human could take so much? Wait, it is not too much, correct?”

“N-nope, just the right amount” the bumps rub every inch inside him, one on the shaft catching his cock as Indrid thrusts and wiggles his hips. 

“Wonderful” Indrid purrs, “I have dreamed of this all dayAHnnncareful” he chides after Duck bites the part of his arm he’s able to reach, “or I shall take you so roughly your back will wear imprints of bark for days.”

Duck whimpers excitedly, very aware of thick pre-cum dripping into him, “Yeah lets do that.”

He can hear the grin.

“If you insist.”

“FUCKohfuckohfuck” his hands scrabble at the tree and at Indrid’s arms, “that’s it darlin, that’s it, fuck, gonna give you the best goddamn rub-down after this, touch you until your body forgets what it’s like to be without my fuckin hands on it.” Leaves scatter in his hair and down the back of his shirt as Indrids fucking turns frantic. 

“I, I shall hold you to that AHhnn, sweet one, you are so tight, so deliciously slick and inviting, I, I am not going to last long, you are too perfect, just touching you makes me burn like wildfire” His thrusts sharpen, never pushing too deep but making Duck feel like a log split beneath an axe of ecstasy, “Duck, sweetheart, yes, yesyesyes” Indrid spills into him, cum running out of Ducks body and back down his shaft. 

For a minute, Duck is nothing more than a pinned specimen, spread eagle on the tree as Indrid shudders, purrs, and drags fuzzy kisses along his throat. Then his shirt rides up as he slips down the tree, but Indrid doesn’t put him down. Instead, a rough tongue glides up one thigh and then the other. The human gasps, gripping Indrid’s horns for balance as Indrid buries his face between his legs.

“Ohhhhhh, oh I do so love tasting how we mingle together.” Indrid’s breath is ragged and hot against his dick, “I am going to do this every day.”

“Please” Duck squeezes his horns, his orgasm painfully close, “please ‘Drid, wanna cum on your tongue, want you holdin me up while I, I-ohfuck.” His legs kick weakly as Indrid sucks him off, tongue lavishing his cock with so much friction he goes hoarse from moaning. The fact he cannot see makes it all the better, makes his world nothing more than Indrids mouth, his claws, his desire that wraps around Duck like vines. 

He cums, arching his hips into the “thank yous” Indrid presses to his legs. 

When his boots touch the ground, deft claws begin pulling his clothes into order, Indrid kissing and caressing him as he does. 

“Y’know, I can get my own britches up.” Duck ruffles a nearby patch of feathers. 

“I know, but I wish to take care of you. Hidebehinds are attentive to our mates, and while I cannot build you a nest, and I can least clean you up after you let me do something so wonderful with you.”

Duck wraps his arms around the cryptid, resting his cheek against him, “Would you wanna do this, uh, wonderful somethin again?”

“Of course.”

The human smiles, reaches his hand up to stroke Indrids cheek. This means he feels the hidebehind smile when Duck says, “Glad to hear it. But I’ll have you know, one of these days I’m gonna expect a nest.”

[bubblyani]

Dutiful Wife

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

A Lucifer Morningstar One Shot

Request: Hi! How are you? I was wondering if you could please write an imagine where reader is Lucifer Morningstar’s wife and she walks in on him masturbating and come to help him ;-D Thanks in advance! @kittenlittle24

Rating: Mature (18+)

Authors Note: With time I managed to come up with a story that went well with this request. Hope you all enjoy it!

Friday 7 am.

Morning may have dawned for others, but for Lucifer Morningstar, his day just ended. A satisfactory resolution to an exciting case filled him with much hype, but at the same he needed to unwind. Stepping into his Penthouse, he casually made his way to his bedroom, until a sight made him halt with a huge grin on his face.

“Oh...Hello”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Baby Blue or Turquoise? With furrowed brows, you were immersed in concentration holding the two dresses. Still in your lace undergarments and stockings, choosing the most suited outfit for work suddenly became the biggest dilemma. For it was an important day and you needed a battle suit.

The vibration of the phone on the dressing table once again reminded you why. Sighing in frustration, you made up your mind. While unbuttoning the baby blue dress, you felt the shoe buckle to be loose. Casually putting the dress over your arm, you bent down to fix it. The moment it felt secure and you got back up, you smiled. You were not alone in the room anymore.

“Good Morning you...”

You greeted Lucifer with adoration, with  your buttocks brushing against his clothed crotch as him stood so close to you. You heard him chuckle.

“Heheh...” You heard him chuckle, “It is a good morning indeed”He purred, placing his hands on your waist. With your body in his possession, he savored it in every way, any time. This time his fingers took charge, running them up and down your rib cage to your hips. His touch woke you up more effectively than an ice cold shower. But yet you resisted the desire for a vocal response.

“How did the case go?” You asked, changing the subject. “Ah...Culprit’s caught and locked away, you know the usual blah blah....but I must say...how ravishing my wife looks this morning” Lucifer said, his lips moving towards your ear:

“So ravishing that something needs a good tearing off ..pronto”

When his fingers tickled and pleasured your abdomen, as his lips nibbled your earlobe, a part of you wanted to play along. You knew what your husband was upto. Except the vibration of the phone once again caught your ears, making you groan frustratingly.

“Shit I ...” you began, “I can’t...” you said, throwing your head back.

“What?” Lucifer’s inquiry sounded genuinely upsetting. Sighing, you turned to him. “I’m sorry Luci...” you said, while you got dressed, “It’s stupid work. I need to go soon”

“Well ...this is quite anti-climactic” your husband remarked, as he sat on the edge of the bed. You scoffed. “Oh...don’t I know it” you said, buttoning the dress, “These people at work just won’t leave me alone” grabbing your bag and phone, you looked back at him “I’m sorry. I’ll see you later” Pinching his stubble cheek, you gave him an apologetic look before heading off to the elevator, leaving a silent Lucifer Morningstar to slump on the mattress.

There were many things in life you could not believe. And one of them was how on earth did you end up living in this Penthouse? More importantly, how the hell did you become Lucifer Morningstar’s wife? 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(1 month ago)

Shaking your head repeatedly, you were at a complete disbelief of your own actions as you felt Lucifer drag you by the hand into the LAPD precinct, which was busy as usual for crime never took a day off.

“Everyone! Hello! ...” Lucifer began clapping his hands, “Ah that’s better...” He said, finally getting everyone’s attention, as they turned their heads to face you both. “We have a huge announcement to make...” he said excitedly.

“Do we have to make this a big deal?” You whispered nervously. Ignoring you, amidst the unimpressed looks of some, he continued:

“It fills me with great pleasure as to say ...” he began, “...that Y/N and I are married!”

You swore you never saw a massive collective of shocked expressions, until that moment. Jaws dropped consecutively like dominos. Eyes widened to great measure.

“What?”

“You serious?”

“Oh my god!”

“Now don’t bring dad in to this” Lucifer said accusingly.

Getting up from her desk, Detective Chloe Decker tried to wrap her head around this piece of information. “How the hell did this happen?”

Sighing, you allowed your husband to summarize as you recollected in the form of a montage reel. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Matrimony did not exactly bring the two of you together.

But a case did.

You were fortunate enough to get to know Lucifer when you nervously  stepped in to the precinct as an important witness to an ongoing investigation. As the case grew more complicated, your friendship with him blossomed, leading you to offer your assistance with other cases as well.

Nonstop chatter and belly aching laughter were confirmations of how you and him were a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention the amazing chemistry you both seemed to share. People in Your vicinity even began to wonder if any romantic future was possible. Ella Lopez was the biggest enthusiast.

“Just so you know, I ship you both... hard”

She would randomly say, out of the blue on a random case, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Wha-?“ you’d question.

“Really?” Lucifer however would be intrigued, giving you a look of pleasant   surprise. 

The people were never to blame, for it made sense. But a romantic future? It  was never there. At least, none of you discussed it. The mere thought of it was unimaginable, given Lucifer’s Casanovian lifestyle.

One fine day, in the spirit of true partnership, Lucifer volunteered to drive off to Vegas in search of a suspect. Though it was clearly obvious that he was an eager volunteer for the location, not the purpose. With Chloe, Dan and even Ella tied at the precinct, you were more than happy to tag along with your friend.

Thus, amidst the sounds of slot machines, background music and loud chatter, you and Lucifer were on the lookout. But at the same time, you were both knee-deep in a heated discussion regarding the pros and cons of gambling.

“Oh come now...a bit of gambling won’t hurt anyone”

“Hah! You’ll say that now. But what happens when you lose it all to a bet?” You said to him, talking with your hands with a dramatic flavor . In response, Lucifer merely chuckled.

Looking ahead at an elevator, he smiled to himself. “Do you remember the first day we met?”

You looked at him with surprise. “Why all the sudden?”

“Do you?” He repeated. You nodded. 

“Yeah of course...” Indeed you did. Getting into the precinct elevator with a handsome stranger, you had no idea it was him. 

Lucifer chuckled, as if he just reminisced it with you. “You were so shy, I assumed you to be a victim of catholic school training” he teased.

Scoffing, you opened your mouth in protest. “Well that was only because...ah! never mind” you said, stopping yourself with a smile. “What?” He asked, curiously building up. You suppressed your smile from turning into giggles.

“Well...You were terribly attractive and I...” you admitted it, biting your lip playfully, “Heheheh I guess I didn’t know how to handle it. Oops-“ Moving swiftly, you skillfully avoided the stumble of a slightly drunk young couple holding a bouquet and a bottle of red wine. Flashing their wedding rings, their faces were full of glee.

Unfortunately, Lucifer wasn’t swift enough, as some of the red wine was spilled on his jacket. “Ah bloody hell! That was extremely  rude..” he snapped, as the couple went away “....this is Prada by the way”

“Wait!” Putting your hands up dramatically, you were birthed with an idea.

“Sir? ..Hi!” You greeted the bartender nearby, “...do you by chance have any club soda ?”

“Yeah..?”

“And a towel?”

“Yeah...Wha-? Hey Lady!”

To the bartender’s shock, you reached in to grab the soda gun and a towel. Though it was not what he expected, Lucifer watched you with fascination as you began to wipe off the stain from his jacket with focus.

“Club soda. Solves everythin-”

And to your surprise, Lucifer’s hands made themselves home on your waist, only to pull into a kiss.

Eyes widened, you felt embarrassed when they closed involuntarily, kissing him back in kind. Intense yet full of comfort; not bad for your first kiss together. But still, you were amazed. Where the hell did all this come from?

Pulling your lips from his, Lucifer looked at you excitedly. “Let’s get married!”

Your jaw dropped. “WHAT?” You said, surprised by how he sounded firm, sure and happy. “What...what have you been drinking?” You asked, as his hands remained on your waist. “You...” he replied seductively, brushing his nose against yours. And like a side effect from a drug, you knew you were being distracted.

“Omg did I just help you propose?“ the bartender asked with excitement.

“Yes” Lucifer replied happily. Eyes widened, your jaw dropped back down again.

“NO! And...why are you listening?” You asked the bartender angrily. 

“Hey lady! You took my towel”

 “Fair enough” you sighed.

“So...” Lucifer asked, making you turn back to him, “...what do you say?”

You scoffed, still fazed by all that happened. “Lucifer...Are you insane?” You inquired. “On the contrary....” he began, “ I strongly think we should get married. Besides, you seem to be quite  comfortable in my arms at the moment” Feeling more embarrassed than before, you pulled away from his arms. 

With a deep breath, your put your hands on your waist. “If you think I’m the type to say yes to a shotgun wedding, then you got another thing coming mister. I’m not that kind of girl...in fact,  I’m married-for-life kinda gal” you said, pointing at yourself with exaggeration.

It was true, this was definitely not the way you expected him to propose, let alone profess his love for you. But was it really love for him? You were scared to know. For you certainly stowed your deep, secret love for him inside a thick treasure chest in the deepest corner of your heart. “Besides...what about your life? The bachelor privileges? It’s not gonna be the same” you stressed.

“I am serious Y/N...” Lucifer assured, “You’ll be stuck with me for all eternity. Come on...” he said, getting closer to you, “You do love me don’t you?”

As those words haunted you, a hypnotic feeling overcame you. He was doing that thing he always does. And you knew there was no escape.

“Yes...”

You blurted, before getting back to your senses to see his naughty smirk. “Wait a minute...” you began, “Did you just get me to confess and accept a marriage proposal at the same time?” With his victorious laughter and claps, you knew he did. You sighed.

“Damn you, Morningstar” you muttered with a scowl.

“No damn needed when I already am love”

Truthfully, you do love him and now you’re about to be wed. You should be overjoyed. But it was certainly unexpected. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Come on! Show it”

Ella begged, making you show the golden ring which was paired up with  an exquisite engagement ring that adorned your finger.

“Oh my god...look at that!” She exclaimed “it’s so beautiful” amidst Lucifer’s proud look. 

“He really went all out huh?” Decker said, standing next to you.

“Yes he did” you replied, eyes still on the rings. You felt her hand rest on your shoulder. “Congratulations Y/N...” she sounded sincere, which made you smile, “Thank you Chloe” 

“Still hard to believe though”

“Dan!” Decker and Lucifer snapped at Espinosa, who merely shrugged in response. “I’m just saying ...a guy like Lucifer...I.. I could never imagine settling down” he said. You tried to hide your smile.

 “Well Daniel.. a guy like me can be full of surprises” Lucifer replied. You maintained your stance as Ella pulled your arm further towards her to check the rings in detail, with a crowd of police officers surrounding her.

You looked at Lucifer. “Seriously dude...” you whispered once again, “...am I’m your security blanket Or something ? I don’t buy this” you said, only to be kissed by him gently in return. His kisses certainly manage to shush you for a while. “Now my dear wife...off to consummation!” He said, making you blush as he lifted you up bridal style.

“Shhhhh!” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(Present) You stepped out of the elevator as the doors opened with a ding!Clenching your fists, you regretted ditching him like that. You regretted not even comforting him with a kiss before leaving . After all, he was your companion for life.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A hot shower and a well deserved nap did not stop Lucifer from keeping his mind off you. When night time dawned, He carried out business as usual, he played some tunes on the piano to liven up LUX, yet it all seemed out of focus.

“How could she do that? How..how dare she do that?” Lucifer suddenly muttered to himself , with a tone that was evident with hurt.

“Who?” One of his beautiful customers cried out through the loud music.

Lucifer shook his head, “My wife...” he shouted, “sorry...I was just thinking of my wife” he said. The woman raised her eyebrows, but curled up to him even closer. This was not new: A beautiful woman who clearly seemed to be lusting after him at from the first glance.

“Well...if she’s not treating you right, then maybe you need someone who does” she purred as she ran her manicured fingers along his forearm. Lucifer chuckled, “Heheheh...I appreciate your concern but I know seduction when I see one, and clearly you’re nowhere close to stage 1. Excuse me...”

Amidst her shocked expression , Lucifer slowly got up from the couch, before making his way over to the elevator.

LUX was always rife with temptation in all forms, and it was Lucifer’s mini playground.

But not today, not tonight. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The silk robes caressed and comforted his chiseled frame as he changed into them. An early night away from LUX, it certainly was a first.

Pouring himself a glass of whiskey, he looked over to check his phone. Messages filled the lock screen. All irrelevant. For none of them were from you.

He sighed, Lucifer did not like this feeling. Never in his existence did he imagine being surrendered to human emotions this way. Snapping out of it, he sank onto his bed, hoping to find a humorous yet silly video online to quench his amusement. A cat video perhaps.

But instead, he decided to watch something different. And one video in particular.

Being Lucifer’s wife meant a lot of spoiling. Including dates at fancy restaurants. He would always be amused by how enthusiastic you were about your food. The way you made romantic conversation with the food. The way your eyes shone with each bite. So much so he ended up recording you indulging on your cheesecake on his phone one fine evening. 

“So Y/N...what exactly are you up to here?” His voice was on the background as the video focused on you. Smiling, you dug your fork into the delicious treat. “This my friend...is the greatest cheesecake in the world” you spoke to the camera with conviction. You closed your eyes as you took the bite. Pleasure filled your veins like an injected drug, spreading it around, resulting you to produce a sound which was without a doubt similar to a moan.

Lucifer froze. Eyes glued to the screen, he kept watching you continue to make erotic noises indulging the condensed treat. “I think me and this baby need to go somewhere private” you joked, wiping the dessert off your mouth with a wink.

As innocent as this video appeared to be that day, it had a complete different effect on Lucifer tonight. Those moans haunted him. He could not help but envision you from this morning. Nothing but lace lingerie standing in the way of him and your naked body. The feel of your body against his.

He was awakened. His body was clear proof.

He dialed your number frantically and repetitively, only to discover it’s engaged. He even typed with urgency, “Where are you?”

No reply.

For the man who had almost everything, he suddenly felt as if he had nothing. Nothing as important as your presence.

Gulping the whiskey down, he leaned against the headboard. Starving in the desert that was his lonesome and desperation, he needed you. And patience was too virtuous of a quality for him as he felt his hand dig inside the waistband of his silk boxers, until he fully clasped his manhood.

Pulling it out, he allowed his eyes to close. The image of you kept him company, making sure his imagination pleasured you while he pleasured himself. Fully erect with arousal, his hand moved in steady rhythm, providing him with the temporary comfort he desired. His imagination ran wild, and so were you in it. He touched you, he tasted you, he ravished you with no end. Immersed in rich satisfaction, his lips finally managed to form the word he was dying to say:

“Y/N!�� Except his eyes opened in a flash, to find you actually standing a few feet away.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You did not expect this. Not even one bit. Marrying Lucifer Morningstar, you were well aware of the risks of infidelity. A minute part of you were concerned to find him in bed with another, as a punishment for your disregard this morning. You were ready to feel like a fool.

But this, this certainly was unexpected.

He looked ethereal, even in the most erotically compromised position. His twitches, his soft moans, his vulnerability made you wonder: did he miss you that much?

More importantly, were you just going to stand there, and ignore your strong arousal? 

“Well...speak of the me” Lucifer breathed, releasing his grip from his manhood. Words were not required for you to respond. You walked over to him slowly. For all you wanted to do was to provide your full assistance in the matter he was engaged in. Grabbing the hand that he held out, you balanced yourself climbing on top of him, your panties lightly grazing against his erect shaft in the process. You moved forward, resting yourself on his stomach as you looked down at him.

Drunk in his gaze, you could not believe this man was yours to begin with. Truthfully you felt that every single day.

Hand still interlocked with his, you guided it all the way up to your collar, putting your own hands on his sides so he was free to unbutton your dress. As he unbuttoned one, you were reminded of every single time this bed witnessed your love making, including the very first. Gasps left you when the buttons flew off the way he tore the dress open, only to pull you by it, kissing you at his hungriest.

At last. Fucking Finally.

The hunger seemed to be intense enough, you needed eternity to indulge in his lips while his hands caressed your buttocks. Flipping you down to the bed, you began to feel more naked the moment you felt him grab an end of your lace panties, tearing it off your frame with a grunt until it was left in pieces.  

“So...something really did need a good tearing off huh?” You remarked, as you felt him open your legs up. He smiled with mischief. “Don’t forget, I’m a man of my word” Lucifer replied, and you couldn’t help but agree throwing your head back, when you felt your moistened slit swallow his shaft whole, in an instant. With the flexibility of a skilled acrobat, he bent low. You winced as he kissed every inch of your stomach from your hip bone all the way up your ribs while he moved inside you. Impatient, you reached in from your back, to unhook and peel off your bra. For no inch of you preferred to be left out from his attention. Your enthusiasm certainly made him chuckle evilly.

“My! Aren’t you the Dutiful Wife?” He said, eyes on yours before slowly moving lower to enjoy the new view. You bit your lip with a smile. “Why not?” You panted, “When my husband pleases me so...ah!”

You flinched as Lucifer’s teeth dug into your left breast. Involuntarily forming a hickey, he compensated by soothing it with kisses and generous licks over your hardened buds in the midst of your cries of pleasure. However you did not complain.You were more than happy to claim ownership of his love bite.

“Lucifer...” you breathed, holding his face “Please know..I never regret marrying you”.

He froze with surprise.

“But I do regret not doing anything this morning...” you continued, taking a deep breath, ”I regret not kissing you at least” panting, you added “I’m sorry-”

“Apology accepted my darling” Lucifer interrupted you before pressing his lips against yours. Pulling away, you held his face again. “I’m serious” you said, “You should know...when I...love you,” you added with adoration, “I don’t want it to be short or forgetful.  I want it to be real..to be right. Cause it’s you Lucifer”

You could not believe what you just said. As if your heart suddenly spilled out with an overflow of emotions. Completely in disbelief, Lucifer smiled happily.

“Is this what it feels like to be the happiest husband ever?” He asked. You smiled, nodding in response.

Being the loving husband, Lucifer resumed his steady rhythm; increasing pace with added arousal. And being the loving wife, you held on to him tightly; throwing your head back with louder moans.

There will be a lot to talk about in the morning. But you looked forward to it , for all was finally well with this marriage. And you knew for sure Lucifer will love you right, in every single way.

——————————————————

Check My LUCIFER MASTERLIST here :)

[emmyrosee]

His Little Lamb (18+)

OH LORD OKAY- tune me out because this isn’t important but I feel like I should put a tiny warning; this is one of the most messy things I’ve ever written (yes, I know, crazy right?)  because of certain things that are going on in my neck of the woods. HOWEVER, this has also been in the works for about a week and a half non-stop, so there was no way in hell I was not gonna not publish it. I crave validation, what can I say? I’m also incredibly, indescribably sick, so there are certain parts of this that I am very proud of, while others are rushed and messy. This is also written in First Person, which I very rarely do, so please (nicely, I cry easy) tell me how I did with that.

Regardless of my garbage, I hope you enjoy :)

WARNINGS: (I honest to God don’t know what to put here smh) SMUT. SMUTTY SMUTTY SMUT WITH WEIRD TRACES OF FLUFF. DUNCAN’S KINDA A BULLY.  ORAL, MALE RECEIVING, LIKE, A LOT. RIDING DUNCAN, PUBLIC (i think public?) SEX, DON’T READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!

Fratboy!Duncan x Fem!Reader; after a fun night with the legendary Duncan Shepherd, he becomes smitten with you, and you soon learn the truth about the fraternity’s strange system of dating by the hands of The Shepherd.

When I stepped into the warm night of September, walking to a party that I had heard about on campus, I hadn’t expected a domino-like effect, leading me to meet the campus famous fraternity brother, Duncan Shepherd. I had definitely heard of him and his crazy, famous parties from girls around, almost like a modern day, scholarship winning Jay Gatsby.

Of course, no had told me that you don’t challenge this modern Jay Gatsby at anything, unless you’re ready to prove your talents and worth to him.

Especially beer pong, apparently. Or so I’ve learned.

“Yo, I wanna play!” I squealed, plopping down to a tall, handsome brunette on some random couch. A game of beer pong had just wrapped up, and a new set had been put up immediately after.

The man grinned before taking a sip of his drink, “You any good, doll?”

“I’m not too bad- never lost through high school, but I haven’t played since I’ve gotten here.”

“You think you’re good enough to beat Duncan Shepherd?” He asked, brows cocked.

I shrugged, “maybe. Don’t know if he could tolerate losing to a chick though.”

He chuckled, “why don’t you ask him?”

“Where is he?” I asked smugly. The man bit his tongue as his answer, making a shiver shoot down my spine. “Oh my God,” I whispered, blushing from embarrassment. “I-“

“No worries, but you couldn’t beat me a beer pong if you tried, doll,” he sneered, standing up and grabbing the small ping pong ball.

I grinned, relieved at his chilled and lax nature. I grabbed my own ping pong balls, “try me. Loser has to strip.”

“Hope you’ve got a cute bra on,” he purred.

There was not one unimpressed person in the party.

To his amazement, I sunk my last ping pong ball into the last of Duncan’s red solo cups. The crowd went crazy, chanting my name as I stood in just a tank top and pants while Duncan was left in his jeans with a grin.

“Impressive, baby.”

“Thanks, handsome man,” I said, crossing my arms, “but I want my prize.” My eyes traveled to his jeans, smirk on my cheeks.

Licking his teeth, Duncan nodded, “Ight, Ight, it’s only fair.” His hands traveled to his zipper and he teasingly undid it, everyone standing around cheering him on. “Ta-da.” He sang, dropping his jeans around his ankles.

Of course it was a marvelous sight. It was Duncan Shepherd, it had to be

Black, tight underwear left little to the imagination, meaty thighs shameless in their display much like the man that possessed them.

“Alright you damn show horse,” I couldn’t help but tease, walking up to him and wrapping my arms around his neck, “you can stop making the other boys feel bad.”

“That’s my forte, doll.” He snickered. “And if I’m a show horse, I’m desperate to know what that makes you.”

“Wouldn’t I be your Little Lamb, Mr Shepherd?” I asked, pressing my hips against his. His underwear did a poor job of separating us, the surprise friction making me bite my lip.

“Creative,” Duncan said, grinning. His arms wrapped around my waist, “you wanna get outta here? Come back to the house?”

I chuckled, “I feel like you’d be bad for my grades.”

Duncan scoffed, “Nah, I’m harmless. I gotta be. Dean’s always on my ass about shit, gotta stay on my toes.”

I giggled coyly at him, slowly moving my hands down his chest. “I better get back to my dorm,” I said, pouting. “But thank you for the show, Mr Shepherd.”

“Any time, little lamb,” he purred, pushing a strand of hair out of my face. “Want me to walk you back?”

“Sure,” I agreed, “it’s not far from here.” I smiled up at him, pulling away.

“Let me just grab my clothes, doll.” He whispered. He quickly buckled his jeans and slid on his discarded clothes before reaching for my hand and guiding me out of the party.

We walked back to my dorm in comfortable silence, hand in hand underneath the bright street lamps and dazzling stars. Duncan was different from the standard frat boy image- his face was older, the dark stubble on his face contrasting the innocent brightness of his eyes. The firm, protective grasp of his hand in mine was comforting and warm, making a heat wash over my body.

We passed the threshold to get inside my dorm complex, the luxury of having a room on the first floor suddenly seeming like a betrayal to cut our time short.

“Here we are.” I said, letting go of his hand. He sighed gently before jamming his fists in his pockets.

“Yeah,” he said, “I guess we are.”

“Thank you for keeping me safe, Mr Shepherd.”

“Any time, doll,” he said with a smile. He leaned against my doorframe and watched me fumble around with my keypad.

Finally, my room unlocked and I was allowed inside, giving Duncan a kiss goodnight as compensation.

That’s where I thought it would end.

I was quite wrong.

The next morning I had gone out to breakfast with some friends as we walked around campus, some of them more curious about my night with Duncan than I was ready to tell.

“How big was his dick? Word around campus is it’s 8 inches.”

“Did his stubble feel weird on your thighs?”

“No hickeys that I can see, huh? Kinky.”

“You guys,” I scolded, “nothing happened. He walked me home like a gentleman and that was it.”

“Boring,” they crooned.

Despite my assuring that nothing happened, my friends refused to let it go, all day that we were out they demanded to know about the events of the night before.

But Duncan’s true impact on the campus was only cemented in my mind when I met The Shepherd.

A small envelope on my door would be my entrance to his realm, and I was never more curious than when I saw who the letter was made out to.

Little lamb read the crude writing.

Picking up the small, white envelope, my heart pounded in my chest, shaking hands made it difficult to open.

I couldn’t pin point why I was so nervous. Maybe he was angry that I beat him. Maybe he was just trying to ask me out.

Finally, I opened it.

Little lamb,

Interest has been piqued. The Shepherd wishes to speak to you. Tonight. 830.

Be there.

Confused, I slipped the letter into my pocket and swiftly walked into my dorm, disappointed that my roommate wasn’t there to give advice.

I wasn’t even sure if I should go. I had a great time with Duncan, he seemed normal enough for a rich frat boy, but it’s always a stupid idea to go somewhere and have no one know.

I looked at the clock, pissed to see the red lights flashing 5:30. I had to make my decision and make it quick. If I went, god knows what would happen to me, what him and his friends would do.

However, if I didn’t go, he could get relentless, and I’ve learned there’s nothing scarier in a man than rage.

Fuck it, I said to myself, let’s go.

The three hours leading up to me going to meet Duncan flew by in a blur, and I had to dash out the door in order to make it to his frat house on time.

I knocked on the large door, and within seconds, a tall, broad brother peeled through the door, “name?”

“Uh... Y/N?”

“Business?”

“I’m uh, looking for The Shepherd?” I asked, looking back at the note. The man’s eyes widened and he swiftly unlocked the door.

“You must be Duncan’s little lamb.”

I shrugged, “I guess?”

“They’re waiting for you,” he said lowly, stepping out of my way. I nodded at the strangeness and entered the large house. I was impressed and a little freaked out with the decor, the school’s colors shamelessly splayed everywhere. Couches, pillows, pictures of past fraternity brothers hung, judging me for coming here, as if knowing something I didn’t.

“Ah, there’s my little lamb.” Duncan’s familiar voice called as I turned into the room. I nodded despite the strange nickname, “yup. I made it.”

The rest of the brothers clapped and whistled at me, making me blush in embarrassment.

“Welcome to the house, little lamb.” He proudly opened his arms to his house, making his friends all clap and hoot like wild beasts.

I chuckled awkwardly, waiting for the brothers to calm down.

Once they did, Duncan’s attention was refocused on me, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Now then- change into these,” Duncan commanded, tossing a pile of clothes at me.

I caught them, and my jaw dropped at them.

The too-small piled consisted of Duncan’s letterman jacket, the same one he was wearing the night I beat him, and a kilted mini skirt, much, much too short for any sort of imagination.

“D-Do I have to?” I asked, voice trembling.

“Well, if you really wanna roll with the Shepherd, little lamb,” he husked, tipping my chin up with soft fingers, “you gotta prove the pack.”

“H-how?” I quivered.

A smug grin spread across his cheeks, his thumb tracing my lower lip, “you’re gonna put on a little show for us, and in turn, you become one of us. We protect you from the wolves, my pretty little lamb.”

“I... I still don’t understand!” I cried, lips trembling in fright.

Duncan crouched down in front of me, mockingly pouting his lip out, “come on dolly, don’t want that pretty face to cry,” his large thumb swiped under my eye, taking up the tear before brining the salty liquid to his tongue. “I’ll take care of ya, don’t you worry.”

“W-Why me?”

“What can I say? Got me interested.” He licked his teeth under his grin, standing back up, “Alright boys. Let’s give her some privacy to change, I’ll be back in five to check on you, little lamb.”

The boys all left, Duncan even winking at me as he closed the door.

As anxious and tense as I was, I did as I was told and began to undress, the fright in my chest making it hard to breathe.

This was a mistake.

I just knew.

Duncan’s letterman jacket taunted me like a predator to its prey, the much-too-tiny-skirt to match is just as rude to my self esteem.

I contemplated leaving, just walking out with not a word. I had no reason to be here, I flirted with him for a night and now I’m his ‘little lamb?’

So weird.

Of course, this conclusion and idea to leave had blossomed as I had already slid on Duncan’s jacket and the miniskirt, not sure how I looked due to the lack of mirrors. Probably to save girls from having to look at themselves, the shame in my chest would’ve been cemented if I had seen my lack of rational thought.

I jumped as the door slowly opened, Duncan’s familiar face filling the frame.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, sinful smirk on his face, “you’re gonna be quite the show, baby.”

“You still haven’t told me what this is about...” I said, pulling his jacket around me to shield me a little.

Duncan threw his arms out, “what’s there to say? Every brother gets his name and his chick. I’m the Shepherd, you’re my little lamb. Michael’s the devil, his girl would be his angel. Get it?”

“I could do without the theatrics, Duncan.” I said, a lace of anger in my voice. He shrugged and called his friends back in, the catcalls from them rang in my ears like a gong to remind me just how vulnerable I am to their smitten eyes.

“Are you wearing your panties, baby girl?” Duncan asked, rubbing his stubbled chin.

“Yes?” I answered. The shakiness in my voice gave away my confusion as to why I would have to remove them.

Duncan clicked his tongue, “no no, thats not gonna fly. They’re gonna have to come off, baby.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he lowered his voice, “tradition. Off. Now.”

After a brief moment of pause, I tenderly pulled my underwear over my knees and down my legs, tossing them aside neglected.

“Good,” he purred. “Touch yourself.”

I froze, “w-what?”

“Touch. Yourself.” He commanded again, just as stern as the previous time.

I looked between the men encircling me, heart beating faster and full of embarrassment and in a weird way, arousal.

The heat resonation off of my core betrayed her, and I bit my lip anxiously.

“I...can’t do it in front of people-“

“You’re dripping, doll.” One of his friends piped, “the skirt doesn’t hide it, in case you were wondering.”

“Awww,” Duncan cooed, smirking smugly at the embarrassed girl before him, “someone must like all this attention, huh you little slut?”

I looked up at him, like a deer in headlights, opening my mouth to speak but no words come out.

Crouching down in front of me, Duncan gently grabbed my wrist and guided it down to my heat, long fingers gently pressing my own to my clit. My jaw dropped as delicious pressure circled tightly on my sensitive bud.

“That’s a good girl,” Duncan whispered, “keep going, little lamb.” He stood up, slowly sliding off his leather jacket and tossing it to the side, keeping his eyes locked on me like a predator to his prey. “Put a finger in there, baby girl. I want you nice and wet for me.”

I obeyed, much to my own confusion, and I slowly pushed a finger inside, eyes rolling back in my head as they found the spongy wall inside of me.

The men encircling me had begun to palm themselves at the sight, but Duncan stood as still as he could, watching my show with no sympathy.

As I started to become erratic to the touches to my clit, I couldn’t help but began to sweat in Duncan’s letterman, skirt becoming damp with my fluids. I was almost disappointed in myself, hoeing around in front of these complete strangers for a status that in 5 years won’t even matter.

But right now, being ‘Duncan Shepherd’s Little Lamb?’

That’s all that matters to me.

“Ahh!” I screamed, tossing my head back in pleasure, “p-please! C-can I cum?”

In mock sympathy, Duncan tilted his head, “naw, can my little lamb not take a little fingering?” He straightened his neck, “don’t you dare cum on those pretty little fingers, doll.”

“But-“

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Alongside the chuckling from Duncan’s friends, their own cocks straining against their jeans, I merely mewled at myself, sliding my fingers hesitantly out of my dripping heat. “N-now what?”

He took a condom out of his shallow denim pocket and grinned, “now’s the real show, little lamb,” he sat on the large couch, thighs spread wide as he pat his left muscle, “hop on.”

I couldn’t move. I was so stunned that I was actually here, let alone about to let Duncan ram himself inside of me while horny yes-men watch.

Slowly, I began to crawl over to Duncan, other men whistling at the exposure of my slick thighs and red cunt peaking from under my skirt.

I pulled myself onto Duncan’s lap, legs spread wide and open over his. He smiled down at me smugly and grabbed my hips tightly. “You ready for me baby?”

“Y-yes.” I whispered, tilting my head away from his gaze. I was snapped back to him when his soft lips attacked my neck, biting and sucking roughly. His hand left my hips as he began to undo his jeans, tent bigger now that I was so close to him.

He slid his hard member out, “Alright boys. You know the drill.”

One by one, jeans and pants were dropped, cocks being strained against boxers.

“Ready, Shepherd,” the crowd said, grabbing their cocks and teasing them.

Face completely red from embarrassment, I merely listened to the sounds of skin slapping skin, hands laying on Duncan’s chest as if to ask to wake up from this dream.

But this wasn’t a dream.

And I made the choice to stay with him.

Instead, Duncan gently adjusted me to sit on his length, sliding it inside with no hesitation.

“AH!” I cried, screwing my eyes shut and throwing my head back. The stretch of Duncan inside me was indescribably delicious, and I hated myself for liking it. Duncan gripped my hips again, slowly setting a pace for me to bounce on.

“Oh, and one more thing, little lamb,” he husked, licking the bite that he just created on my neck. “You’re the last to cum.”

“No! I-I can’t hold that!” I whined, bouncing harder, “please!”

A hard, commanding hand came down on my ass and I arched her back with a loud moan. “Don’t be a brat, little lamb,” Duncan growled, roughly grasping my jaw. “You’re not gonna like me if I’m mad.”

“Y-yes sir,” I whimpered, slowly getting back to my original pace on his lap.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “keep going, baby girl.”

“Yo, Duncan,” one of his friends interrupted, “can I get some of that?”

Duncan looked over my shoulder at someone, although I wasn’t sure who was asking.

“Yes,” came Duncan’s answer, “let’s make this more interesting.” He gently pat my ass to make me get off, but everything was so tense I couldn’t move. The lack of release and the thick air in the room were absolutely the cause. “Come on doll,” he commanded, slapping my ass hard again, “move it.”

“Where?”

“Next to me. Hands and knees.” He commanded.

Numbly, as if to know what was coming, I obeyed, arching my back like a cat and waited for the pressure between my hips to return.

Which it did, of course.

I bit her lip in awkward pleasure as Duncan slid into me, new position making it harder to predict his next move.

“Jim,” his husky voice called from behind me, “you’re up. Come ‘ere.”

One of Duncan’s frat brothers, a tall, handsome brunette apparently named Jim looked down at me sweetly, almost sorry for me, stroking my bottom lip comfortingly.

“Are you ready for me, beautiful?”

Despite the quick, hard thrusts of Duncan’s hips and the poorly made ponytail in his hand, I nodded, parting my lips slightly to welcome Jim’s hard, flushed member past. In tandem with Duncan’s thrusts and pace, I took his cock deeper and deeper down my throat, shaky hand gripping what I couldn’t manage. Jim groaned in sweet arousal, grabbing the back of my head gently to help me slightly with my bobbing.

He was strangely ginger with his touches, contrasting with the rough forcing from Duncan.

But we had to move on.

Once I laid my tongue flat against Jim’s head, hollowing my cheeks to finally break him in order to find my own release, I knew it was over for him. “O-Oh fuck, that’s it babe- I’m gonna cum,” Jim groaned, tugging my hair. He stayed true to his promise, spilling his seed down my throat. I swallowed it greedily, heat coating the back of my throat like honey. What else could I do?

The other brothers who participated, quite literally, came and left.

After Jim came Derek, a lanky blonde who was not nearly as gentle as Jim.

Then Seth, brunette hockey player that I knew from around campus.

Then Michael, another tall blonde that looked at me with even less sympathy than Derek.

Then Andy.

Brad.

Brendan.

Josh.

James.

Evan.

Dominic.

Finally came Matt, who instead of making me swallow, gave me a facial, sticking to my eyelashes and heated cheeks, smirking as he did.

I genuinely didn’t know which she appreciated more- the facials because I could merely wipe him off or the constant stickiness of various boys down my raw, aching throat. The ordeal had been over, and finally I could be with Duncan alone.

My hips and pussy hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before, secretly hating Duncan for keeping his promise of a show. His constant and relentless pounding had my entire existence molded around him, so close to that delicious brink of stars.

Tired and overstimulated, I choked back a sob when Duncan finally whispered “cum for me, my brave, strong little lamb.”

Everything in me snapped, I don’t know what came over me. Once I was given the chance, my thighs collapsed, arms gave out and it was only then that I cried from a mix of pain and pleasure from my abused walls.

Duncan followed, spilling his hot cum inside his condom before slowly pulling out and throwing it away, his own walking shaky. “Come here, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispered, gently picking me up and carrying me to the bathroom. I wanted to protest and tell him I could walk, but my everything fucking hurt. He set me down on the cool countertop, making me arch and whimper against the contrast to the overheating of my body. It felt really good, the cool granite on my thighs, but it would feel even better if my body hadn’t been so stimulated just seconds before.

Duncan smiled and gingerly dabbed me with a warm, comforting washcloth, cleaning me rather poorly of sweat, jizz and my tear tracks.

“I didn’t think they’d ask,” he admitted, earning a exhausted glare from me. “You really did impress us.”

I said nothing.

He sighed, “I get that you’re pissed at me. I don’t blame you.”

“I’m not pissed,” I said, voice breaking. “I’m in pain and tired from it.”

He tilted his head adorably, like a small puppy and I nearly forgot just how much I’d endured to see him like that.

“Your clothes are fucked,” I tried to joke, voice gone from the maltreatment of my throat.

Duncan chuckled, “that’s not my worry right now.” He handed me a small Dixie cup full of mouthwash, “here. Stay the night. I’ll get you home once you can walk again.”

I nodded, gratefully taking the minty mouthwash from him. I swished it around until it was a pure froth, spitting it and whatever else came up back into the sink.

“Here, I’ll get you some clothes,” Duncan said, leaving the bathroom to only return moments later with a black shirt and boxers, “may be a little big, but it’ll work, right?”

I nodded, sliding on the roomy clothes. They smelt like him, that kinda helped the recovery.

“Let me be the first to say congratulations, little lamb,” Duncan whispered, gently picking my exhausted body up again and carrying me to his room, “you’re one of us now. Top of the food chain, baby.”

I weakly smiled, hand caressing his stubbled cheek, “I can’t wait for you to show me what you can do when it’s just us, Show Horse.”

I felt the tent in his pants grow again.

Taglist💕~ Thank you for your support, baby!

@sojournmichael

@rosegoldrichie

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme

@peachesandfern

[desperatelyseekingroleplay]

Seeking Pokemon Partners

Hello there, you can call me Shadow! I’m a male in my early 20’s and I am currently looking for some Pokemon partners, perhaps even a GM? I’m EST based but I’m usually up late so any timezone will probably do!

Honestly I don’t have a set style, my replies usually vary from a few sentences up to a paragraph. Post as much as you feel like, just don’t ask me to post an essay defining how a soup spoon feels please.

I’d also like to address that I’m looking for long term partners! Sorry it has to be said, most people tend to disappear after day one :/

Take as much time as you need to respond! I personally prefer getting at least one reply a day but so long as I’m not waiting two weeks for a singular reply it doesn’t really matter. Just tell me if something comes up so I don’t assume you’ve ghosted?

Preferences:

I kinda have a thing for OCxCanon(Me playing the OC) ships And I’m sorry to say but I only do MxF ships. Sorry! :/ I know this can be a major deal breaker but… my roleplays include NSFW themes. All characters will be aged over 18 for the roleplay, and I ask that my partner is also over 18!

I’m perfectly fine with having plot of course, but I do like having pure smut related roleplays from time to time. I'm actually craving a more smut heavy thing right now haha! I’m alright with either, message me your preference so I know what’s up! This is purely HumanxHuman though, not really into HumanxPokemon.

Before I get to the plot, I’d like to bring up the GM part from earlier. I’ve never really gotten to do one of those roleplays before but have always been intrigued by them. I’d be very much interested if you’re up to the task and have the patience to deal with me!

And here is a list of my favorite Pokegirls, I’d love to play against any of these characters. However if there are some not present you’d like to play, feel free to ask!

Favorite Pokegirls: May, Dawn, Mallow, Lusamine, Cynthia, Flannery, Shelly, Olivia, Lillie, Delia Ketchum, Amara(Kiawe’s mom), Korrina, Professor Juniper, Bianca, Jessie, Cassidy, Domino

Now onto the plots!

Kanto and Johto: Honestly I’ve got nothing for these two… I’m just a bit tired of Kanto due to how forced it’s felt the past few years in the franchise. And Johto’s just hard to really think of any original plots

Hoenn: I was thinking maybe a Delta Emerald style roleplay? Like the Ruby and Sapphire remakes except more in Emerald’s style. With the Battle Frontier actually present!

Sinnoh: Okay so what I think would be cool is a regular Pokemon journey through Sinnoh but with an overarching plot of Cyrus wanting to find Arceus. Like having the literal god of Pokemon not be used in the plot of any game feels like wasted potential!

Unova: Here me out, I want to do what the anime should have done for Best Wishes. Basically Ash won the Sinnoh League and now we’ve got a new protagonist starting his adventure in the Unova region! With darker themes to match the Black/White games. The group dynamic can be decided on upon messaging.

Kalos: Alright so this takes place after the events of the XY games. It has been several years since the Team Flare incident and suddenly Team Flare’s resurfaced with a new leader behind them and to make things worse the champion is missing! Team Flare’s goal is a mystery to the public but they’re after the Zygarde cores and cells, instead of Team Flare going around and doing stupid random shit like in the games they’re actually doing that to cover their search of Zygarde in the nearby area.

Alola: Again basically a different take on Alola for the anime. Ash won the Kalos League(Like he should have) and a new character is the focus. Having just moved to Alola he begins his journey expecting a fun time but ends up discovering that he’s the hero destined to save Alola from the incoming darkness! (I’d also be willing to do the school angle; But think of it as more of an Academy given how old they are)

Alright now that everything’s taken care of, I’d like to make one final request. It’s completely optional and not required! But if you’re down for also playing any of these other fandom characters I would greatly appreciate it!

Naruto: Tsunade, Ino

Sonic: Amy, Sally, Bunnie, Fiona

Borderlands: Mad Moxxi

Total Drama: Lindsay, Courtney

Galaxy Falls: Wendy

Saints Row: Shaundi, Viola

Mass Effect: Ashley, Miranda

Marvel: Black Cat

DC: Starfire, Blackfire, Harley Quinn

Daphne Blake

Adventure Time: Princess Bubblegum

Yugioh: Alexis Rhodes

Resident Evil: Claire

Limits:

Honestly I don’t have much. It’s better to just ask upon contact

Contact:

Right now I can only do roleplays over Discord

Shadow Litten#4984

If I managed to keep your interest the whole way through then I’d like to thank you for reading, and I hope to hear from you soon :)

[readingbank-blog]

How Lay People Will Help to Bring Church Growth

1. Lay people will help you deal with ungrateful and forgetful sheep.

…in the last days… men shall be… unthankful…

2 Timothy 3:1, 2

There will always be lay people who are very grateful for your ministry. They will love you and appreciate your efforts for them. These people will help to neutralize the presumption that is common in the congregation. Their grateful speeches will neutralize rebellion in the camp.

You will notice ungratefulness in people by the way they complain. Moses led the Israelites out of bondage and slavery and yet they murmured and complained bitterly against him. Aaron even had to make a golden calf to calm them down.

If something ever goes wrong, you will be surprised at the reactions of people you have ministered to. Many quickly forget what you have done for them.

The things a pastor does are not physically tangible, but spiritual. Many therefore think that the pastor has done nothing for them.

Church members can sin against you after you have been a blessing to them. Don't be shocked! The prophet Jeremiah experienced the same thing from his people. He said, “Shall evil be recompensed for good?” (Jeremiah 18:20).

The Sin of Hezekiah

Once, a pastor told a very disturbing story. He said that he was surprised when one of his church members came to his house one night to assault him. He couldn't believe that this young man whom he had led to Christ, trained up in the Lord; whose marriage he had blessed and helped through various crises would attack him in that manner.

Dear friend, do not be surprised! Do not expect gratitude from man; expect your rewards from God. Hezekiah was blessed. But he did not "render again". That means he did not show gratitude for all the blessings he had received.

But Hezekiah RENDERED NOT AGAIN according to the benefit done unto him…

2 Chronicles 32:25

This is the nature of man. This is the nature of the people God wants you to lead.

2. Lay people will help you overcome disloyalty in the congregation.

With the help of lay people, you will be able to fight disloyalty in the church. The presence of zealously committed lay workers always inspires more loyalty in the ranks. Lay people, who do not earn money from the church, are a great support to every pastor.

Lay people who are loyal will report what is going on in the congregation

Though Judas walked and ministered with Jesus for three years, he eventually betrayed him for a small amount of money. Betrayal is a part of ministry. It is also a part of life. If you have yet to experience betrayal, I can assure you that you will. The disturbing thing about betrayal is that it comes from people who are supposedly close to you.

You are not greater than your master Jesus! The fact that someone may betray you one day makes it very difficult for you to happily interact and flow with the people. Look closely at the ministry of any great man of God. You will discover that they have all had their fair share of traitors. All of this contributes to the burden and difficulty of ministry.

Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.

Psalm 41:9

Paul experienced sudden desertions by some of his colleagues, like Demas. I remember one young man whom I trained. He was about to take up an important position in the ministry that we had been preparing for, for over a year. On the day he was to fill the position, he suddenly informed me that he was leaving the country. I couldn't believe my ears! All of our months of preparation meant nothing to him. He just abandoned ship without notice. These experiences are all part of the ministry. Abandonment also occurred under the ministry of Apostle Paul.

For Demas hath forsaken me…

2 Timothy 4:10

Because people can abandon you at any time, it is burdensome to lead them.

The presence of committed lay people will always help to share the burden of abandonment. God wants us to be involved in His work. God wants us to be shepherds!

3. Lay people will help to deal with disrespectful and rebellious church members.

And Miriam and Aaron spake against Moses… Hath the Lord indeed spoken only by Moses? HATH HE NOT SPOKEN ALSO BY US?

Numbers 12:1-2

There are lay people who will sort out disrespectful and rebellious church members for you. You always need people on the ground to deal with church members who make light of pastors. There are people who think their money and status in the secular world gives them a right to say and do anything in the church.

Miriam and Aaron (the closest assistants and closest relatives) spoke against Moses. They most probably said things like, "God also speaks by us" and "Are you the only one God uses?"

With time, familiarity creeps in and arrogant people now consider you as an equal. They tend to think, "We can all do it. What's the big deal? You are no different from us!"

This is unfortunate, but real. People easily take you for granted. They murmur and complain against you, forgetting all that you have done for them.

When some church members lose their temper, they will speak to you as though you are a little child.

"You Remind Me of My Father"

One church member approached her pastor after Sunday service. The pastor thought she was about to compliment him for the powerful sermon he had just preached.

She started, "Pastor, you know something? I felt I should tell you that you remind me of my father."

"Oh really?" the pastor responded. He thought he reminded her of some good traits in her father.

She continued, "He was so full of himself and so are you!"

The pastor was taken aback but had to smile and continue as though he had received a compliment. This church member was telling the pastor exactly what she thought of him. Moses also experienced rebels who thought he was “too big” for his shoes. Moses also had people who wanted to cut him down to size. That is why Moses had to share the burden with seventy other elders.

Now Korah...and Dathan…and Abiram…and On…rose up before Moses...and said...wherefore then lift ye up yourselves [Moses and Aaron] above the congregation of the Lord?

Numbers 16:1-3

4. Good Lay People encourage others to respond positively to the Word.

When any one heareth the word of the kingdom, and UNDERSTANDETH IT NOT…

Matthew 13:19

The domino effect is when one thing leads to another. When one layperson responds positively to your teaching, others are inspired to do the same. It is always a blessing to have ordinary congregants who are outspoken in their support of you. Sometimes large sections of the congregation do not understand the Word.

Often they do not understand why you have to do fundraising. Consequently, many do not respond in giving. Many times, I have to explain that they are giving to build a nice church where they can have their weddings, their baby dedications and their ceremonies.

Leading people who have all the above characteristics: ungratefulness, disloyalty, etc., is a major task.

One person cannot do it alone. The burden must be shared with others. Sharing the burden is hard work.

5. Lay people will cause the church to expand by becoming part of the workforce.

The use of lay people as part of the workforce is the secret to unlimited expansion of the church.

Sometimes people think that lay people cannot do much ministry work. Do not be deceived try using lay people and you will discover how much work they can do.

Lay people can join the pastors to share the burden of the people. Let your lay people know that they are called to share the burden of ministry with you. They will share the burden on earth and they will share the burden of accounting for the sheep in Heaven.

When we established churches in the universities, we entrusted the preaching and pastoring responsibilities to students. I am very proud of these student ministers because of the great job that they have done on the different campuses. I don't have to rush to the different universities every Sunday morning to minister the Word. Ordinary saints have joined in to help.

These saints must be perfected (prepared, trained) to do the work of the ministry. Ordinary saints can do the work.

For the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ:

Ephesians 4:12

The principal strategy for distributing the burden is to involve lay men and women in ministry. No church is capable of employing an endless number of people. Every church has a limit to its resources.

It is not possible to pay salaries and rent an unlimited number of houses for the staff of the ministry. Full-time staff are limited in the amount of work that they can do.

6. Lay people will help you with prayer, visitation, counselling and interaction.

Lay people can help you with the burden of praying, visiting, counselling and interacting with the sheep.

Moses was breaking down under the burden of having to pray, visit, counsel and interact with so many people. God saw a disaster waiting to happen and decided to take of the "spirit" that was on Moses and put it on the seventy leaders "to bear the burden" with him.

And the Lord said unto Moses, Gather unto me SEVENTY MEN of the elders of Israel… THAT THEY MAY STAND [work] THERE WITH THEE.

Numbers 11:16

Involving students, workers, and professionals helps to distribute the burden to all saints in the church. The Lord wants everyone to be fruitful no matter what they do in life.

7. Lay people will help you to account for the sheep on the Day of Judgment.

…for they watch for your souls, AS THEY THAT MUST GIVE ACCOUNT, that they may do it with joy…

Hebrews 13:17

The burden of answering for the sheep cannot be borne by one person or a few people who supposedly have a “call”. The burden of accounting for hundreds of different people cannot be borne by one person. When I stand before the judgment seat and God asks me about certain souls, I intend to refer to the lay pastors and shepherds I put in charge of these souls.

When the Lord asks me about some souls in the church, I intend to find out who was in charge and tell the Lord to ask that person. I cannot possibly answer for all these different people personally.

Every pastor will have a lot to answer for when he stands before the Lord in Heaven. Your burden is to be able to lead all your sheep to Heaven. Make sure you lose none of them. Every pastor must hope to say, "Of all that you have given me, I have lost none!" Jesus said this phrase in three different places – John 6:39, John 17:12; and John 18:9.

by Dag Heward-Mills

[msby]

The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Spiralling Loneliness and Crippling Anxiety

by Cara Rosete

You will never feel any smaller than when standing at the centre of the muddled streets of a new city, such as New York— all by yourself. You can stare at a map all day, find your way to Time Square or the Statue of Liberty, but still end up feeling lost, tiny, and completely out of your element. The daunting roads of Manhattan glare straight into your eyes as you muster enough courage to wave it a timid and forced hello.

Thoughts race around your head of being judged by the locals or being mugged in Central Park. Timetables, train schedules, and hourly traditions that you have yet to adjust to keep you up at night. Your head is bombarded with feelings of isolation and ostracisation. When complete strangers pass you by and ignore you on the streets, you automatically feel as if it’s because you do not belong in their city. This unquenchable homesickness and loneliness eventually lead you to worry and overanalyse every situation.

It’s not that the place isn’t beautiful. Actually, it is more than you could ever ask for! The wind is cool and crisp, carrying the rich and strong fragrant of Starbucks roasted coffee beans. You hear the divine sizzle of New York footlong hotdogs musk the thundering roar of Taxi cars and train tracks. You feel the crooked cobblestone with every tap of your boot. But the decadent taste of New York Pretzels, the alluring gleam of cheap Carnival lights, and the melodious sound of 60s Jazz on Broadway still won’t mask the fact that you, in one of the biggest and brightest cities in the world, are alone.

Similar to what Williams, et al. says, these situations in itself are ambiguous. It is when we think, assign meanings, and overanalyse or interpret, where we start to develop these negative thoughts. This is what leads us down a spiral of depression and anxiety. This in turn affects how we react.

It is quite weird how one may interpret a situation completely different from what it actually was. 

For example, you are in a foreign land and the locals are eyeing you as you walk through the busy streets. What may really be happening is that they’re intrigued with people (like you) visiting their own country, and would like to show you some local straight-from-the-heart hospitality. Perhaps giving you their undivided attention as you ice skate along Rockefeller Centre is their way of New York endearment. However, you immediately assume it’s because they discriminate against your foreign nature, and don’t want anything to do with you. This tingling sense of humiliation and timidness overcomes you as you slowly and shyly shroud away from the crowd into a back alley, where no one can see you (and where you can potentially get mugged by some alleyway gang). You then feel this growing pang of what it really is like to be lonesome. You never felt this back at home, and you wish you can return… But the sad reality is: you cant.

But then, somewhat like a gift from the heavens, a box appears suddenly right in front you. You pick it up to open it, and inside you found two items.

One is keepsake of your choice to take with you from home, hopefully to help with your well-being. Additionally, beside it, you have a photo of another item that left behind hopefully to have someone remember you by. You stare deeply at it as urges of nostalgia slowly seep in.  What do you see?

If it were my box, I would have a picture of my Sound of Music VHS Tape as a token for my family and friends to remember me by. 

This movie has influenced me in so many ways. This is because, when I was young, I would go around and sing all the songs from the movie at the top of my lungs until scolded. I would imitate one of the Von Trapp kids in my own rendition as I sing myself to bed. This movie taught me music. Julie Andrews was the one who inspired me to first sing, which honestly is such a big part now of my life. Maria’s bubbly and carefree personality is something that I have chosen to emulate still till this day, especially when faced with any particular problems. Surely, I cannot sing my way out of it, but she has taught me to grin through the process.  

I hope that this token will help my family easily remember me every time they so much as see it on our living room shelf, collecting dust. It is a timeless classic that will surpass even me. I hope it brings feelings of warmth, whimsy, and fun back into the lives of my family even when I’m not there to bring it to them myself.

Next, my keepsake would be the DSLR Camera. 

My father bought it for me when I turned thirteen. It is the only thing we ever had in common. Additionally, according again to Williams, et al.,

We only compound our feelings of depletion if we deal with them by giving up activities that normally nourish us, like getting together with friends and family who might be a real support for us. (p. 18)

Hence, those who suffer from high levels of depression, loneliness, or sadness tend to distance themselves from hobbies they use to enjoy doing. Furthermore, because I cannot access any support from my loved ones, my DSLR (filled with old photos from past trips and events) will easily remind me of the times I had with them to, in some way, make me feel as if they are still with me. For the sake of my own well-being, I feel as if engaging in a hobby will distract me from spiralling into this cycle of homesickness, loneliness, and self-hatred. It will keep me motivated and feel loved even, especially in this terrifyingly large and uncharted city.

Well-being, simply put, is defined to be the state of being comfortable, healthy, and happy. It’s especially difficult to achieve proper well being in a foreign area, where anxiety and stress levels are so high. Try imagining that these these negative emotions have somewhat of a domino effect, where one bad thought leads to another (which leads to another, up until you are just an emotional mess on the floor). It is important, especially in a anxiety induced area, to prioritise your well-being amongst other things.

Additionally, I believe my DSLR will help me in protecting my well-being by allowing me to practice mindfulness. When capturing photos, you must always be present in the moment. Williams, et al., says to “[g]et out of your heads and learn to experience the world directly, experientially, without the relentless commentary of our thoughts” (p. 46). To capture the perfect shot, you must have the readiness for any giving opportunity. You should not bombard yourself with overanalysing and overthinking. You have to use all your senses to take in the new environment and encapsulate it into your own photos.

This practice of mindfulness while integrating it with photography forms this amalgamation of peace and composure, perfect to  deal with negative thoughts and experiences.

It is okay to feel sad and lonely. It happens to everyone. When feeling down, it is normal to feel irritable and worthless. People, however, have the tendency to interpret situations to be more negative thus bombarding their heads with these loud, pessimistic thoughts. 

You have your basic emotions, such as joy, disgust, sadness, fear, and anger, which actually serve practical functions for your own survival. They allow you to respond to certain situations appropriately, and will not go away until that certain stimuli (which triggered them in the first place) is no longer present. So when something sad happens, it is okay to feel down. Eventually, what triggered it will go away over time. The problem lies in how these emotions lead to thoughts of negativity, loneliness, and inadequacy. These are not as easy to get rid of. However, engaging in mindfulness will help clear your head and make you feel not so small and alone in this new, ever-changing environment. This will help you in the development of the self, to not be so critical and cynical.

This uncharted city doesn’t necessarily have to be miles away from home, in some foreign country you have never flown to before. You can relate it to even the smallest events here. An example would be entering into a college after being so used to your previous school.

Everything felt so big, while I felt so little. I felt somewhat alone. I did not have my old support system that I used to count on during high school.

My photography, eventually, opened so many avenues for me and helped me build connections with other people who as well took interest in. It also distracted me from feeling useless and worthless. It also helped me practice to not stray away from the present moment.

The two objects in my box (my DSLR and the VHS tape) both are concretised means of my identity. They show this duality of the self because the VHS represents home. It is what is safe. It is what is sentimental. It is what I know and love. While, my DSLR, on the other hand, represents adventure and challenges. It is a hobby that I constantly challenge myself in so I become better and better. It takes me out of my comfort zone; it is the thrill in my body epitomized in a device.

I'm very thankful because, now, I have fully adjusted to college life, and I rarely get any thoughts of isolation and worthlessness. I can now spend my remaining 2 and a half years in college bettering my self. I can walk through campus with a sound mind and carefree spirit— kinda like Maria von Trapp, just without the singing.

References:

Gross, J.J. (2008). Emotion regulation. In M. Lewis, J.M. Haviland-Jones, and L.F. Barrett (eds.), Handbook of emotions (pp. 497-512). New York: The Guilford Press.

Hermans, H. (2015). Human development in today’s globalizing world: Implications for self and identity. In L. Jensen (Ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Human Development and Culture: An Interdisciplinary Perspective (Ch. 3, pp. 28-42). New York, NY: Oxford University Press.      

Mesquita, B., Boiger, M., De Leersnyder, J. (2016). The cultural construction of emotions, Current Opinion in Psychology, 8: Pages 31-36, ISSN 2352-250X, http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.copsyc.2015.09.015.

Williams, M., Teasdale, J., Segal, Z., & Kabat-Zinn, J. (2007). Part I: Mind, Body, and Emotion. In The mindful way through depression: Freeing yourself from chronic unhappiness (pp. 11-49). New York: The Guilford Press.

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Keeping the Horse in Front of the Cart: Realistic Expectations for the 2017 Sixers

I’m gonna go way out on a limb and predict that one of the four teams that played last night will win the NBA championship.

Alright!

Now that we’ve got that squared away, let’s talk about your team, your town, your playoff-bound Philadelphia 76ers. I went on the record Wednesday with this prediction:

41-41, 8th seed in the Eastern Conference

That’s assuming Joel Embiid can play somewhere between 50 and 60 games and isn’t hampered by his “fucking bullshit” minutes restriction.

Whether you agreed with The Process or not, I think everyone understands that this team still has a long way to go. Ben Simmons is a rookie. Markelle Fultz is a rookie. Embiid might as well be a rookie. But one facet of The Process that falls by the wayside is the idea that your core talent is being brought along at the same time. Sam Hinkie was patient enough to move on from guys like Michael Carter-Williams because he thought he could do better. He thought he could assemble a trio that would contend for a title and not just get the team into the postseason.

In that regard, The Process is over. Any half-hearted extension of the concept cheapens the philosophy and makes people forget why it was even executed in the first place. It’s like a band that releases a bunch of great albums then drops a disc like “St. Anger.”

This year, returning to the playoffs would be a big success for a team that has won 19, 18, 10, and 28 games in the last four years. Even cresting 30 wins is a step forward. You’ve been loyal enough to sit through four years of tanking, so suddenly putting the cart before the horse seems hypocritical for a fan base that has tolerated (and even invited) a half-decade of abeyance.

Here’s how I have it going down in the Eastern Conference:

Cleveland

Boston

Washington

Toronto

Milwaukee

Miami

Charlotte

Philadelphia

Detroit

Orlando

Indiana

Atlanta

New York

Brooklyn

Chicago

Playoffs: Cavaliers 4, Sixers 1

Hell of an opportunity to taste the postseason and steal a home win against the Cavs. 2018 expectations become sky high as the Eagles come off an NFC title game loss and the young Sixers sniff meaningful basketball for the first time in the post-Process era. The Flyers are skating like the ’85 Oilers and Mike Trout is finalizing details on his first Phillies contract.

There are a lot of good things to look forward to in Philly sports, so let’s temper immediate expectations and just enjoy the ride.

Embiid should refuse to abide by the minutes restriction, and just stay on the court when Brown tries to take him out.

— FakeWIPCaller (@FakeWIPCaller) October 17, 2017

What do we need to see from each player?

For me, team success is 35+ wins and/or a playoff berth.

Individually, here’s what I got:

Markelle Fultz – learn to play with Ben Simmons, let the shoulder heal, leave the shot alone

I think it’s key that Ben Simmons is going to be a spotlighted Rookie of the Year candidate. This is underrated, because it takes pressure off of Markelle Fultz to perform right off the bat and allows him to sort of fly under the radar as he gets back to fitness and form.

When’s the last time a number-one overall pick had this luxury? The fact that you have two first-overall picks debuting at the same time is incredibly unique and will be a boon for Fultz’s development. He shot the ball well enough in college that he didn’t require any mechanical tweaks, so I think this is just a case of fixing something that wasn’t broken.

Ben Simmons – learn to play with Markelle Fultz, build on ability to move without the ball, stay mentally focused on defense, finish at the rim

I think the thing with Fultz and Simmons right now is that there’s a bit of overlap, not necessarily in their skill sets, but in their strengths. Both look better with the ball in their hands. Both excel at driving to the rim and kicking it out to open shooters.

Neither looks entirely comfortable off the ball, nor are they knock-down shooters right now. That’ll improve with time. Even with Fultz beginning the season with the second unit, there will still be times where they share the court and become more comfortable with each other.

For Simmons, I think his finishing at the rim is going to be a “big fucking deal,” as Joe Biden once said. He can easily get there, and he’s going to draw fouls, but the and-1 potential, considering his size and skill, is going to astronomical this year.

Joel Embiid – stay healthy, stay focused, keep forcing the refs’ whistles, improve on defensive rebounding

There’s not much to say beyond the obvious. One thing I don’t think we talk enough about is the fact that Joel’s small sample size of games means that opposing teams haven’t seen much of him at all. We can say that he’s “unguardable,” but teams will learn how to play against him with more reps and more film. Part of the reason he hit the ground running last year is because opponents had no idea what to expect.

Defensively, he does so many things well, but obviously can’t slide to keep up with smaller guards. You saw D’Angelo Russell hit that floater over him in the preseason game. He can probably be a bit better in defensive rebounding, but sometimes shot blockers aren’t in the best position to grab boards, so that’s natural.

Another storyline is how he’s officiated and whether or not he can continue to get the calls we saw in the Miami game.

Robert Covington – more consistency as a shooter

RoCo is going to get open looks this season because of the gravity drawn by Simmons and Fultz as they attack the rim.

He shot 33% from three-point range last season, which was below the league average of 35.7%, but he improved to 36.5% when the calendar flipped to 2017 after pushing through a rough start. His shots aren’t going to be as contested this year and there’s no reason why he can’t reach 37 or 38% from deep, which would put him right at the edge of the NBA’s top 50. He’s not going to be sharing the court with non-shooters like Sergio Rodriguez this year.

Covington’s perimeter defense is going to be crucial in matchups against the likes of Washington, Boston, and Toronto.

When a ball-handler gets by Robert Covington but Joel Embiid is waiting there http://pic.twitter.com/TpTolg3r3i

— shamus (@shamus_clancy) October 18, 2017

JJ Redick – keep hitting from three, provide early body of work with next year in mind

It’s mostly just determining whether he’s a fit here and worthy of a long-term contract. He also has to think about whether he wants to stick around. I think if you weather the early storm, make it through the rough opening schedule, then pull it back to .500, that assuages any concerns he might have about Philly not being in his future.

Dario Saric – settle into a role?, move without the ball

First off the bench this season.

I’m interested to see how he does in year number two with a better understanding of the American game.

His utility is useful, but I don’t want that to come at the expense of finding his best role on the floor. Using him as a stretch-five, for example, is intriguing, but does that maximize his potential?

We’ll see what happens.

Jerryd Bayless – be the veteran

Talk, point, set assignments. Help these young guys figure it out and lead by example. They’re gonna need it.

Jahlil Okafor – ???

I think his fourth-year rookie option gets declined. With Amir Johnson working with the second team and Richaun Holmes coming back from injury, I just don’t see a role for Okafor, especially because he looks the same defensively as he did last year. The awareness and urgency just never seems to be there.

I love Jah’s offensive skill-set, but he’s operating in a different epoch than the rest of the NBA.

Justin Anderson, Nik Stauskas, Timothe Luwawu-Cabarrot – show us something

I think you just want one of these guys to step up and claim a second unit role. For me, TLC has the most upside.

T.J. McConnell – keep bringing the intensity, stay under control

Nice to see someone play with heart and hustle in 2017, he just has to keep himself grounded while doing it.

Amir Johnson, Richaun Holmes – hold down the fort

There’s a drop-off when Embiid leaves the court, obviously.

With Joel on a minutes restriction, Johnson is going have a big role in the early part of the schedule, and I wonder if Brett Brown goes to Saric at the five before bringing in Okafor. The Holmes injury had more of a domino effect than I originally thought.

Brett Brown: become a 4th quarter coach, find roles for interchangeable parts

One of the issues with the past four years is that Brown wasn’t in a lot of situations where his team was in close, 4th quarter games. What kind of plays can he draw up? Who takes the last shot? These are still relatively new concepts.

I don’t put too much stock into the “Bryan Colangelo didn’t hire Brett Brown” narrative (when considering his job security), but it’s obvious that the evolution of the coaching staff needs to be somewhat congruous with player development.

Another thing is that the unique skill-sets of guys like Simmons and Embiid mean that they can be utilized in a variety of ways. Remember that preseason play where Embiid fed Simmons down low for a dunk? That’s a 7’2″ center dishing it to a 6’11” “point guard” in the low post. That’s fun to watch, but it’s not conventional, and Brown is going to have figure out if we’re doing this with some sort of traditional structure or allowing these intriguing athletes to develop their own new-age and exclusive style.

Strengths – passing, defense, transition offense

With Ben Simmons slinging it all over the place and creating gravity that would make Isaac Newton blush, the Sixers are going to be nasty when playing with pace. They’ll move the ball and space the court much, much better in 2017.

Defensively, Covington, Bayless, and Redick will allow Simmons and Fultz to not have to deal with All-Star Eastern Conference point guards on a nightly basis. If Embiid stays healthy, you’ve probably got the league’s best rim protector, or one of them.

Weaknesses – turnovers, inexperience, finishing around the rim, free-throws?

Adventurous transition offense also opens the door to wayward passes and turnovers. You’re gonna see some balls fly into the stands.

And if Simmons and Fultz decide to take it to the rim themselves, can they finish there? If they get to the line, are they hitting their foul shots? I don’t know.

The inexperience is what it is. You get John Wall, Kyrie Irving, and Kyle Lowry in your first three NBA games.

Welcome!

John Wall Slam Dunk!! #NBAPreSeason #Wizards #NBA http://pic.twitter.com/NFXjb2KKbO

— All Sport News (@All_SportNews) October 7, 2017

Staff picks:

Write these down, then come back and rip us on Twitter in a few months:

Kyle Scott: The Sixers have the potential to be GOOD when Embiid is healthy and if Fultz is a solid contributor. But there are also a lot of new faces, some with no NBA experience, and there are going to be some rough spots. Overall, figuring a mostly healthy Embiid and Fultz not needing surgery on his shoulder, the Sixers are pretty good and get into the playoffs with 42 wins.

Phil Keidel: Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe. 40-42.

Russell Joy: At the end of the season, with the Sixers 5th in the East at 46-36, Joel stands over the broken bodies of those who stood in his way. He pours out two Shirley Temples, smashes them together, throws them back and states to the masses, “Embiid 3:16 says I just whooped your ass.” Or should that be Process 3:16… Or Hinkie 3:16?

Coggin: What is best in life? To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women.” 76ers 42-40.

Bob Wankel: So what if Markelle Fultz looks broken? Embiid stays relatively healthy, Simmons is ROY, and the Sixers go 43-39. They get the 7th seed and then they get wiped away by the Celtics in the first round. Basketball in Philly is back, BABY!

Chris Jastrzembski: Joel’s minutes go up and he stays healthy. Markelle’s shot is still meh, but Ben wins Rookie of the Year. Sixers go 42-40 and get the 7th seed.

Tyler Trumbauer: Embiid is limited all year, no back-to-backs, but team has enough talent to make the playoffs. I say 7th seed, 44-38.

Investor Mike: Reverse psychology absolutely in play here, but the Sixers miss the 8th seed by way of a heartbreaking home loss to the Bucks on fan appreciation night. 40-42

Investor Jeff: Embiid plays 61 games, Sixers 36-25 when he plays. 7-14 when he sits. 43 wins, good for the 6th seed where they give Washington all they can handle in the first round before losing in 7.

  That’s about it. Whatever happens this season, it won’t be boring. Let’s roll the damn ball out.

Take it away Lars Ulrich:

Keeping the Horse in Front of the Cart: Realistic Expectations for the 2017 Sixers published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

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Meet Your 2018 NBA Champions, the Houston Rockets

For our 2017-18 NBA Season Preview, we’re doing deep dives on five teams who can beat the Warriors in the next five years—and the players who can push them over the top.

P.J. Tucker was partying in Atlanta the first time he seriously considered joining the Houston Rockets.

It was the middle of June, a few weeks before the arrival of free agency, and James Harden, Houston’s franchise supernova, was also in attendance. The two are friendly and regularly see each other out during the summer. Tucker approached Harden and they embraced. The five-time All-Star leaned in: I’m coming to get you.

“I was like ‘What?,'” Tucker told VICE Sports. Harden persisted: You’re coming to Houston.

Interactions like this aren’t uncommon among NBA players who know each other well, particularly when the on-court relationship is what Tucker and Harden’s promises to be. Stars know, respect, and long for the blunt qualities someone like Tucker has to offer. This specific encounter rattled in and out of Tucker’s brain for the next few weeks.

As a 32-year-old, Tucker had never enjoyed unrestricted free agency. He was drafted way back in 2006 by the Toronto Raptors, and then spent five years overseas—in Israel, Ukraine, Greece, Italy, and Germany—before signing with the Phoenix Suns. But the NBA caught up to him. Tucker has tools that perfectly align with the modern game and a style of play one might liken with persistent grime. Heading into this summer, he held the right cards at the right time.

“I sit back and look at it: This is kind of my all-in moment,” Tucker says. “I’m putting a little bit more into this year because it was my decision. I wanted to go and fight for a championship. I wanted to pick a team where I can add what I do and be able to put them over the top a little bit. I haven’t been this excited in years about an NBA season.”

This year, the Rockets might be the only team able to go punch for punch on both sides of the ball with the Golden State Warriors. They had the NBA’s second-best offense last season (nobody was more efficient in the half-court, per Synergy Sports), and launched over 500 more threes than any team in league history. The relationship between Mike D’Antoni’s relentless offensive system and Daryl Morey’s analytically-obsessed approach to roster construction (and shot distribution) was harmonious from the start.

Now they have Chris Paul, a troop of interchangeable wings, and complementary depth in the frontcourt. Tucker doesn’t turn opponents into ash or make audiences delirious. He hardly ever dunks and rarely goes off script. But what he gives Houston is a bite they noticeably lacked last season. He can beef up their defense and unlock the kinds of versatile units that will be required to overthrow the Warriors as soon as, well, now.

According to a league source, before he signed with Houston, Tucker flirted with a return to the Raptors, seriously considered an offer around two years and $28 million from the Sacramento Kings, and said thanks but no thanks to a budget-rate proposal from the Minnesota Timberwolves. Now, locked into a four-year, $32 million deal (that’s non-guaranteed in the final season) with the Rockets, Tucker assumes culture-shifting responsibilities on a genuine championship contender. It’s the most important role of his NBA career, on the best team he’s ever played for. The stakes have never been higher, and his fit has never made more sense.

“The thing was maybe taking a little bit more and going to a team where I probably wasn’t going to win and I’d be more of a veteran leader and doing that whole deal like I’d done with the Suns the past few years,” Tucker says. “Or I’d probably take a little less and have a legitimate chance to fight for a championship, which every player wants to have, especially, this is my 12th year, so 12 years in that’s the kind of thing you look for.”

Before they signed him, Houston’s front office and coaching staff didn’t need to pepper Tucker with details about how he’d fit in, or what his responsibilities will be over the next few seasons.

“Coach D’Antoni just said from the beginning, he wants me to do what I do and bring a toughness, some leadership, [and] that fierce ability I bring to the game,” Tucker says. “We didn’t talk much about it. It was just a special understanding.”

Photo by Erik Williams-USA TODAY Sports

The Rockets wasted no time utilizing Tucker’s one-size-fits-all value in their very first preseason game. With 5:20 left in the first quarter, the 6’6″, 245-pound Swiss-Army knife subbed in for Clint Capela and was suddenly asked to wrestle Oklahoma City Thunder center Steven Adams, a comically immovable boulder of a man. Houston’s backup center Nene was out, but the decision by Rockets coach Mike D’Antoni to use Tucker in that role foreshadows five-man units he’ll deploy all year long.

Early in the second quarter, Tucker found himself in a different position, shuffling his feet to stay in front of Carmelo Anthony. On one play where Anthony called for Adams to set a high ball screen, Tucker crowded him, fought over the pick, and nearly wedged himself inside Anthony’s jersey, disallowing a pocket pass and dictating what came next. It was textbook. When Anthony rose to shoot, Tucker ripped the ball away and dribbled the length of the floor for a layup.

“In my early years they called you a tweener. Nobody liked tweeners,” Tucker says. “It’s so funny, when I first came out that was my biggest knock. I didn’t have a position. ‘Is he a two, is he a three, is he a four?’ It’s so funny now, it’s like the thing you get the most praise about is not having a real position, being able to play a bunch of different positions. So now it’s become a gift, being able to do that.”

After he was traded to Toronto last season, the Raptors allowed 98.9 points per 100 possessions with Tucker on the court and 105.8 points per 100 possessions (highest on the team) when he sat. That trend continued in the playoffs, when their defensive rating shot up from 103.4 to 112.7 (which, again, ranked highest on the team).

In Houston, he’s good enough to start and close games as a primary wing stopper, and that domino effect makes life easier for Trevor Ariza, Eric Gordon, Harden, Paul, and everybody else. “[Houston] finished 10th in the NBA all-time last year on offense, so scoring is not a problem,” he says.

But Tucker could win Defensive Player of the Year and Golden State still wouldn’t bat an eyelash if they’re able to ignore him on the other end. Tucker realizes this, and spent all summer familiarizing himself with different ways he can contribute when the Rockets have the ball.

“With James, you look at the way Houston plays, he gets it out make or miss. He throws the ball up and he finds people all over the court,” Tucker said. “This summer I was getting a ton of shots up all over. Wing, top of the key, corners, because the shots here are coming from everywhere.”

About 45 seconds after Tucker entered Houston’s initial preseason game, he set a screen for Harden, popped to the top of the arc, caught a behind-the-back bounce pass, and drained a wide open three—his first shot in a Rockets jersey. In this day, in this system, and with two of the smartest pick-and-roll playmakers in the league on his side, Tucker’s ability to knock down this exact shot is paramount.

Over the past few years he’s developed into a respectable threat from the corner, with only two players (Ariza and Klay Thompson) taking advantage of the analytical sweet spot more often in 2016-17. But he only shot 23.8 percent above the break, an area where he needs to be more comfortable now that he’s in an environment where early offense is a passport to success.

His evolution over the past decade was necessary for his survival as a useful player. Not only did Tucker stabilize his outside shot and prove he could defend multiple positions, but just as critical was his subtle transformation into a tertiary playmaker. Adding three points to Houston’s side of the scoreboard while widening driving lanes for Paul and Harden is helpful, but Tucker’s intelligence allows his responsibilities to expand when the game calls upon them. He’s a junkyard dog who occasionally eats dinner with a fork and knife.

“[Knowing] that Chris and James are gonna draw so much attention, you get those opportunities like Draymond gets where, Klay and Steph get so much attention, and he’s playing at odds so many times,” Tucker says. “Three on two in the middle, being able to be the trigger man, making plays, attacking the rim, kick outs to three, and just being able to make the right decision—that’s something that I obviously relish and definitely wanted.”

In addition to making plays as a roll man, Tucker is also savvy enough to create positive action off the bounce, whether it be in transition or after he attacks a hard closeout.

Of course, comparing someone five years older than Draymond Green to Draymond Green isn’t fair. Tucker isn’t a rim protector and doesn’t possess the same length and off-ball awareness as one of the NBA’s most transcendent figures. But there are obviously some similarities in how they’ll be used. Not only is Tucker strong enough to snuff out small-ball fours and fives, and quick enough to glue himself onto most guards, but his aforementioned offensive toolbox should allow him to be effective in meaningful situations on the sport’s biggest stage.

P.J Tucker may not be the most high-profile signing of the offseason. But he is the exact commodity the Rockets needed. And this season, he can be the difference between Houston merely playing against the Warriors in a postseason series, and actually beating them.

Meet Your 2018 NBA Champions, the Houston Rockets syndicated from http://ift.tt/2ug2Ns6

[lawrencehaber6-blog]

Where For Find Fantastic Truck Games

Gone are those good olden days when children used to play in group as families used to be joint family and had many children. There has been a paradigm shift presently in the lifestyle giving in to smaller nuclear families with one or two child, with both parents working to make ends meet more comfortably. There was no problem in joint family regarding looking after the children because someone was always there to look after them. In nuclear families where both the parents had to go out to work, there online games offer huge aid as an effective baby sitter that not only makes a child sit at one place, but also heightens his/ her perceptual power and responses. The web is abundant with a wide diversity of online games, ranging from action and adventure to puzzles and word games. The variety of online games excites the children to play with initial assistance, wherever necessary. Bright and colorful animations provided by these online games on interactive basis are enough to catch the attention of the children as well as the grown up people. Particularly the online games having the domino effects cast a spell on the young children. Online games have various positive points as well as negative points. Let us begin with the different positive points of online games for instance it relieve the parents from worrying about the fellow children who can play with their child and also help the parents to escape the process of appointment of a baby sitter whose duties are generally to look after the safety of the child. Beside these online games allow pleasure and fun along with sharpened intelligence to your child. Your child subconsciously learn and refine ones skills, hand and eye coordination, reflexes, logical thinking and various other skills through online games. Most importantly children get acquainted with the operation of computers and eventually attained a unique comfort level with their computer and gains confidence in the subject forever! The online games infuse in your child a sense of understanding of what competition means and help them to learn how to remain patience. The negative sides of the online games are that it centralizes the children to their room, making them addicted to computer games and indulging them to remain inside spending several hours in front of the computer. Parents do not understand allowing their children to play several hours of online games will make lose an important part of their life. Playing outdoor games, making friends are equally important in building character, improving physique and creating a healthy environment. It brings an overall development and helps the child to face challenges in their life.

Most kids play with regard to the game category with regards to course car games that will give. Moreover, it's should not just these elegance combined with the game, but you would by themselves really like the effects and sound which have got been been effective upon and additionally you can possibly even frolic the on-line in defined weather sicknesses too. You will be able to learn better about the exact games a play as compared to well as being where you might can a way in them. Practice contributes numerous assets for you to amplify your qualities. Eventually on that, drill with both perimeters of whatever part with 4- by- 4 within . lumber in to and indicates the sort of you see, the truck. It's any kind of great period of time for all of us. In the every hole from ones top produce to be positioned the particular lag secure. There is truly also any Hell Police. In that respect is exclusive array most typically associated with different types of games I've observed on Protecting Games. Which it is highly easy to help you get a site where it offers any of them by performing a fast search on the internet. If any person aren't truly about a different enters you will go for, then read out the overview appropriate. The batters need to defeat some sort of other manufacturers while using down this roller rollercoaster tracks and as a result trying that can win this particular race, Plus make absolutely sure everyone stays on in the type of trailer. Many of these games could be able in provide endless opportunities pertaining to fun and simply excitement with an limitless number and even variety linked to vehicles. Many are a number of categories so that it will choose from like parking, racing, driving, bike and furthermore truck simulator games play online so that it will name a few. The ideally websites would be those that a lot of offer the parties without the viruses for you to provide some users contentment of decision. In a quantity of of the main car games, you make to steer over some small products. All the way through this casino game you direct the beast truck then destroy all the things in an path. Right now there is a game to that monster 18 wheeler racing. Many on these contests challenge the entire capabilities concerning trucks while fighting automobiles. Several of all those addresses might be used about fishing, which can lead to identity and computer security problems up the call. The competitors start acquiring interested immediately after playing fundamental stages. This genuinely does not hit the path traffic safety compared who have motorways through other nations around the. The perfect thing about the car games typically is that any single one to them contains a variety of offers therefore each one has become different moreover more harder than the particular first. Rest, here games without doubt rather end boon as opposed to what bane for the reason that far equally relieving stress levels happens to be concerned. can use a impressive time equally there can be a figure of blogs where someone can learn these dazzling games meant for free. Driving responsibly means taking the guesswork out of driving all together. If a traffic light is yellow, your driver's education reminds you that this is an indication that you should slow down, right? Red lights mean that you should come to a complete stop. If a pedestrian is waiting to cross the road, and it is clear around you, you should yield to let them cross. The introduction of the red light camera is one example of how local governments around each of the states have been trying to slow drivers down into obeying traffic laws. Is it working? The answer is unclear. In some people's opinions, the red light cameras are not only a waste of taxpayers' money, but they are also dangerous as they have the opposite of their intended effect. For instance, in many cases, instead of slowing people down, the red light cameras are actually causing people to speed up in order to beat the light so that they avoid getting a ticket. If it is not timed out well, and the driver is indecisive as they approach the light and then suddenly slam on their brakes to avoid the flashbulb, then the other driver who is behind them (and was so sure that they would run the light) suddenly finds him or herself slamming on their brakes in order to avoid colliding with the person in front of them. Because so many drivers tailgate, however, many of them are unlucky in this pursuit and wind up getting into accidents at red light cameras. Driving responsibly also means turning off the cell phones while driving. Lately, I have been making it a point to either turn my phone to silent, leaving it at home (if I know that I am stepping out for a little while), or I have been resorting to simply keeping my cell phone in my purse or bag, which I then store in the trunk of my car while driving. Out of sight; out of mind works! Cell phones are incredibly distracting because there are too many fun things that you can do with them. From sending text messages to playing games to checking your fifteen different email accounts while tweeting, it is quite a spectacle that is best left alone while you are behind the wheel of your car. The radio is another culprit in the attention grabbing game. Even something as simple as changing a radio station requires most people to reach over and fiddle with the controls, which means that there is one less hand on the steering wheel. And should you have to perform an evasive maneuver while driving your car, you probably wouldn't be able to do it quite as effectively with just one hand. GPS devices, Mp3 players and pretty much any other device that plugs into one of your charger outlets is usually a one way ticket to distractionville, so beware.

[flauntpage]

Keeping the Horse in Front of the Cart: Realistic Expectations for the 2017 Sixers

I’m gonna go way out on a limb and predict that one of the four teams that played last night will win the NBA championship.

Alright!

Now that we’ve got that squared away, let’s talk about your team, your town, your playoff-bound Philadelphia 76ers. I went on the record Wednesday with this prediction:

41-41, 8th seed in the Eastern Conference

That’s assuming Joel Embiid can play somewhere between 50 and 60 games and isn’t hampered by his “fucking bullshit” minutes restriction.

Whether you agreed with The Process or not, I think everyone understands that this team still has a long way to go. Ben Simmons is a rookie. Markelle Fultz is a rookie. Embiid might as well be a rookie. But one facet of The Process that falls by the wayside is the idea that your core talent is being brought along at the same time. Sam Hinkie was patient enough to move on from guys like Michael Carter-Williams because he thought he could do better. He thought he could assemble a trio that would contend for a title and not just get the team into the postseason.

In that regard, The Process is over. Any half-hearted extension of the concept cheapens the philosophy and makes people forget why it was even executed in the first place. It’s like a band that releases a bunch of great albums then drops a disc like “St. Anger.”

This year, returning to the playoffs would be a big success for a team that has won 19, 18, 10, and 28 games in the last four years. Even cresting 30 wins is a step forward. You’ve been loyal enough to sit through four years of tanking, so suddenly putting the cart before the horse seems hypocritical for a fan base that has tolerated (and even invited) a half-decade of abeyance.

Here’s how I have it going down in the Eastern Conference:

Cleveland

Boston

Washington

Toronto

Milwaukee

Miami

Charlotte

Philadelphia

Detroit

Orlando

Indiana

Atlanta

New York

Brooklyn

Chicago

Playoffs: Cavaliers 4, Sixers 1

Hell of an opportunity to taste the postseason and steal a home win against the Cavs. 2018 expectations become sky high as the Eagles come off an NFC title game loss and the young Sixers sniff meaningful basketball for the first time in the post-Process era. The Flyers are skating like the ’85 Oilers and Mike Trout is finalizing details on his first Phillies contract.

There are a lot of good things to look forward to in Philly sports, so let’s temper immediate expectations and just enjoy the ride.

Embiid should refuse to abide by the minutes restriction, and just stay on the court when Brown tries to take him out.

— FakeWIPCaller (@FakeWIPCaller) October 17, 2017

What do we need to see from each player?

For me, team success is 35+ wins and/or a playoff berth.

Individually, here’s what I got:

Markelle Fultz – learn to play with Ben Simmons, let the shoulder heal, leave the shot alone

I think it’s key that Ben Simmons is going to be a spotlighted Rookie of the Year candidate. This is underrated, because it takes pressure off of Markelle Fultz to perform right off the bat and allows him to sort of fly under the radar as he gets back to fitness and form.

When’s the last time a number-one overall pick had this luxury? The fact that you have two first-overall picks debuting at the same time is incredibly unique and will be a boon for Fultz’s development. He shot the ball well enough in college that he didn’t require any mechanical tweaks, so I think this is just a case of fixing something that wasn’t broken.

Ben Simmons – learn to play with Markelle Fultz, build on ability to move without the ball, stay mentally focused on defense, finish at the rim

I think the thing with Fultz and Simmons right now is that there’s a bit of overlap, not necessarily in their skill sets, but in their strengths. Both look better with the ball in their hands. Both excel at driving to the rim and kicking it out to open shooters.

Neither looks entirely comfortable off the ball, nor are they knock-down shooters right now. That’ll improve with time. Even with Fultz beginning the season with the second unit, there will still be times where they share the court and become more comfortable with each other.

For Simmons, I think his finishing at the rim is going to be a “big fucking deal,” as Joe Biden once said. He can easily get there, and he’s going to draw fouls, but the and-1 potential, considering his size and skill, is going to astronomical this year.

Joel Embiid – stay healthy, stay focused, keep forcing the refs’ whistles, improve on defensive rebounding

There’s not much to say beyond the obvious. One thing I don’t think we talk enough about is the fact that Joel’s small sample size of games means that opposing teams haven’t seen much of him at all. We can say that he’s “unguardable,” but teams will learn how to play against him with more reps and more film. Part of the reason he hit the ground running last year is because opponents had no idea what to expect.

Defensively, he does so many things well, but obviously can’t slide to keep up with smaller guards. You saw D’Angelo Russell hit that floater over him in the preseason game. He can probably be a bit better in defensive rebounding, but sometimes shot blockers aren’t in the best position to grab boards, so that’s natural.

Another storyline is how he’s officiated and whether or not he can continue to get the calls we saw in the Miami game.

Robert Covington – more consistency as a shooter

RoCo is going to get open looks this season because of the gravity drawn by Simmons and Fultz as they attack the rim.

He shot 33% from three-point range last season, which was below the league average of 35.7%, but he improved to 36.5% when the calendar flipped to 2017 after pushing through a rough start. His shots aren’t going to be as contested this year and there’s no reason why he can’t reach 37 or 38% from deep, which would put him right at the edge of the NBA’s top 50. He’s not going to be sharing the court with non-shooters like Sergio Rodriguez this year.

Covington’s perimeter defense is going to be crucial in matchups against the likes of Washington, Boston, and Toronto.

When a ball-handler gets by Robert Covington but Joel Embiid is waiting there http://pic.twitter.com/TpTolg3r3i

— shamus (@shamus_clancy) October 18, 2017

JJ Redick – keep hitting from three, provide early body of work with next year in mind

It’s mostly just determining whether he’s a fit here and worthy of a long-term contract. He also has to think about whether he wants to stick around. I think if you weather the early storm, make it through the rough opening schedule, then pull it back to .500, that assuages any concerns he might have about Philly not being in his future.

Dario Saric – settle into a role?, move without the ball

First off the bench this season.

I’m interested to see how he does in year number two with a better understanding of the American game.

His utility is useful, but I don’t want that to come at the expense of finding his best role on the floor. Using him as a stretch-five, for example, is intriguing, but does that maximize his potential?

We’ll see what happens.

Jerryd Bayless – be the veteran

Talk, point, set assignments. Help these young guys figure it out and lead by example. They’re gonna need it.

Jahlil Okafor – ???

I think his fourth-year rookie option gets declined. With Amir Johnson working with the second team and Richaun Holmes coming back from injury, I just don’t see a role for Okafor, especially because he looks the same defensively as he did last year. The awareness and urgency just never seems to be there.

I love Jah’s offensive skill-set, but he’s operating in a different epoch than the rest of the NBA.

Justin Anderson, Nik Stauskas, Timothe Luwawu-Cabarrot – show us something

I think you just want one of these guys to step up and claim a second unit role. For me, TLC has the most upside.

T.J. McConnell – keep bringing the intensity, stay under control

Nice to see someone play with heart and hustle in 2017, he just has to keep himself grounded while doing it.

Amir Johnson, Richaun Holmes – hold down the fort

There’s a drop-off when Embiid leaves the court, obviously.

With Joel on a minutes restriction, Johnson is going have a big role in the early part of the schedule, and I wonder if Brett Brown goes to Saric at the five before bringing in Okafor. The Holmes injury had more of a domino effect than I originally thought.

Brett Brown: become a 4th quarter coach, find roles for interchangeable parts

One of the issues with the past four years is that Brown wasn’t in a lot of situations where his team was in close, 4th quarter games. What kind of plays can he draw up? Who takes the last shot? These are still relatively new concepts.

I don’t put too much stock into the “Bryan Colangelo didn’t hire Brett Brown” narrative (when considering his job security), but it’s obvious that the evolution of the coaching staff needs to be somewhat congruous with player development.

Another thing is that the unique skill-sets of guys like Simmons and Embiid mean that they can be utilized in a variety of ways. Remember that preseason play where Embiid fed Simmons down low for a dunk? That’s a 7’2″ center dishing it to a 6’11” “point guard” in the low post. That’s fun to watch, but it’s not conventional, and Brown is going to have figure out if we’re doing this with some sort of traditional structure or allowing these intriguing athletes to develop their own new-age and exclusive style.

Strengths – passing, defense, transition offense

With Ben Simmons slinging it all over the place and creating gravity that would make Isaac Newton blush, the Sixers are going to be nasty when playing with pace. They’ll move the ball and space the court much, much better in 2017.

Defensively, Covington, Bayless, and Redick will allow Simmons and Fultz to not have to deal with All-Star Eastern Conference point guards on a nightly basis. If Embiid stays healthy, you’ve probably got the league’s best rim protector, or one of them.

Weaknesses – turnovers, inexperience, finishing around the rim, free-throws?

Adventurous transition offense also opens the door to wayward passes and turnovers. You’re gonna see some balls fly into the stands.

And if Simmons and Fultz decide to take it to the rim themselves, can they finish there? If they get to the line, are they hitting their foul shots? I don’t know.

The inexperience is what it is. You get John Wall, Kyrie Irving, and Kyle Lowry in your first three NBA games.

Welcome!

John Wall Slam Dunk!! #NBAPreSeason #Wizards #NBA http://pic.twitter.com/NFXjb2KKbO

— All Sport News (@All_SportNews) October 7, 2017

Staff picks:

Write these down, then come back and rip us on Twitter in a few months:

Kyle Scott: The Sixers have the potential to be GOOD when Embiid is healthy and if Fultz is a solid contributor. But there are also a lot of new faces, some with no NBA experience, and there are going to be some rough spots. Overall, figuring a mostly healthy Embiid and Fultz not needing surgery on his shoulder, the Sixers are pretty good and get into the playoffs with 42 wins.

Phil Keidel: Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe. 40-42.

Russell Joy: At the end of the season, with the Sixers 5th in the East at 46-36, Joel stands over the broken bodies of those who stood in his way. He pours out two Shirley Temples, smashes them together, throws them back and states to the masses, “Embiid 3:16 says I just whooped your ass.” Or should that be Process 3:16… Or Hinkie 3:16?

Coggin: What is best in life? To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women.” 76ers 42-40.

Bob Wankel: So what if Markelle Fultz looks broken? Embiid stays relatively healthy, Simmons is ROY, and the Sixers go 43-39. They get the 7th seed and then they get wiped away by the Celtics in the first round. Basketball in Philly is back, BABY!

Chris Jastrzembski: Joel’s minutes go up and he stays healthy. Markelle’s shot is still meh, but Ben wins Rookie of the Year. Sixers go 42-40 and get the 7th seed.

Tyler Trumbauer: Embiid is limited all year, no back-to-backs, but team has enough talent to make the playoffs. I say 7th seed, 44-38.

Investor Mike: Reverse psychology absolutely in play here, but the Sixers miss the 8th seed by way of a heartbreaking home loss to the Bucks on fan appreciation night. 40-42

Investor Jeff: Embiid plays 61 games, Sixers 36-25 when he plays. 7-14 when he sits. 43 wins, good for the 6th seed where they give Washington all they can handle in the first round before losing in 7.

  That’s about it. Whatever happens this season, it won’t be boring. Let’s roll the damn ball out.

Take it away Lars Ulrich:

Keeping the Horse in Front of the Cart: Realistic Expectations for the 2017 Sixers published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv