#but i was like no. that's her name now. she is perfect

[corroded-hellfire]

More Munson Than Expected - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Written with my beloved @munson-blurbs 💜

Summary: The ultrasound for your second pregnancy brings a new wave of excitement to the Munson household.

Note: The excitement I have to let this secret out of the bag after cooking it up for over a year is real. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: pregnant!reader

Words: 4.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Eddie, you didn’t have to come with me,” you remind him again as he pulls up a chair next to the examination table he just helped you get situated on.

Your husband gives you a disapproving look as he makes himself comfortable in the seat. He shakes his head as he reaches out and takes one of your hands in his.

“Did you really think I was going to miss this?” he asks. “No way. I was there for Eliza’s first ultrasound, I’m going to be there for this one’s too.”

“What about the boys?”

Eddie sighs. “I was there for Ryan’s. But I wasn’t aware of when Luke’s was, so I missed it. Don’t tell him.”

“I won’t,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “He would know it wasn’t your fault, though.”

“You keep your mouth shut too, hmm?” Eddie leans over and presses a kiss to your emerging bump. 

“I don’t know if he or she developed a mouth yet,” you say, the sanitary paper crinkling beneath you as you try to get comfortable. 

“Not gonna find out if you’re a he or she,” Eddie continues talking to his developing child. He reaches out and rubs a hand over your stomach. “Wanna see you, though. And make sure you’re healthy.”

The door to the examination room swings open, bringing with it the distinct smell of antiseptic. The ultrasound technician walks in and closes the door behind her.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” she greets with a smile. “My name is Tara and I’ll be doing your ultrasound today. The doctor tells me that you don’t want to know the sex. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod. “We want this one to be a surprise.”

“That is no problem. Let me just set up here and we’ll get started.”

While she gets to work, Eddie helps you as you attempt to tug your shirt up enough to avoid the cold and sticky goo that will inevitably be squirted on your stomach for the ultrasound. You’re able to tuck it into the underwire of your bra just to be sure that it won’t slide back down and get all messy. 

One of the sleeves of Eddie’s jumpsuit falls down and he shoves it back up past his elbow. You take in the navy material, your eye tracing over his name sewn on in red thread over his heart. 

“What time are they expecting you back at work?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “They know where I’m at. They know it might be a little while.” 

“Alright, are we ready?” Tara asks.

“Yep.” You offer your hand to Eddie again and he laces his ringed fingers with yours. 

Tara picks up the bottle of the dreaded goo and squirts a healthy amount on your abdomen. The chill against your skin sends a shiver throughout your body. At least the wand should warm it up as the tech spreads the substance around to get the best view of the baby. 

To you and your husband it feels like you’re just looking at a black screen with wavy white lines on it. Somehow, everything seems to make sense to Tara as she positions the wand on different parts of your stomach. 

“Oh,” she says at one point, stilling the instrument against your skin. “Here we go.”

A soft but steady thump thump thump fills the air of examination room 5. Tears immediately well up in your eyes. You look at Eddie to see him grinning from ear to ear. 

With the slightest movement of the wand sliding against the goo, you hear thump thump thump thump thump thump.

“Oh wow,” you say through a sniffle. “You can hear it even better now.”

“Sounds strong,” Eddie adds. 

“Actually…” Tara trails off.

“What?” Eddie asks. You feel his hand tighten in your grip. “It’s…not strong?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s very strong. It sounds perfect to me. But I want you to listen.” There are a few moments of silence as the three of you listen to the heartbeat. 

“It sounds fast,” you say.

“It does,” Tara agrees. “But if you listen, you can hear some of the beats overlapping one another.”

She leans in towards the screen and moves the wand again, just slightly. A smile grows on her face as she spots something in the mess of gray shapes on the machine. “Hear it?” she asks.

“Yeah, kind of,” Eddie says. “What does that mean?”

“Well, if you look here,” she replies, pointing towards what looks like a small blob, “that’s your baby.”

Pure glee radiates throughout your entire being. It’s your first glimpse at your and Eddie’s new baby. Another life that the two of you created together. You share a quick loving look with your husband before you both become engrossed in the image on the screen again.

“And here…” Tara says, sliding her finger slightly to the right, “is your other baby.”

The room goes silent save for the sound of the heartbeat. Or rather, heartbeats. Though your ears heard the words, your brain is still processing what they mean. It’s clearly the same with Eddie, as he stares at Tara just like you are.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie finally says. He chuckles and licks over his lips. “Did you say, ‘other baby’?”

“I did, indeed.” Tara taps a few keys on the machine, and it looks like it takes a screenshot. “There are two babies here. Two distinct heartbeats and two little nuggets showing off to the camera.”

“Twins.” The word comes out of you as a whispered breath. “We’re having twins.”

“Not just Baby Munson #4,” Eddie adds in a voice as awed as yours. “Baby Munson #5, too.”

“And they both appear to be developing well,” Tara says. 

Eddie laughs. “No. No, we, uh, we’re not having twins.” He looks down at you, then back at Tara. “We decided we’re just having one more. I’m already forty-one, so just the one newborn is already pushing it.”

Tara grins, clearly used to this kind of reaction. “Well, you’d better rest up. Because you’ll be a father to two new little ones in a few months.”

Eddie grabs your hand, still stunned by the news. You can’t say you’re faring much better, although it does explain why this pregnancy has been so much more intense than when you were expecting Eliza. Part of you feels relieved that it wasn’t all in your head. But another part…

“Twins.” The word leaves your lips in an exhale. “We’re…babe, we’re gonna have five kids. We’re gonna be a family of seven.”

A clammy hand squeezes yours, and you glance up to see Eddie visibly trembling. “How am I gonna raise five kids?” He murmurs. “That’s one more than Harrington, and that dude was pretty much born to be a dad.”

Tara’s brows furrow as she cleans off your belly. “I’ll, um, leave you two to discuss.” She starts for the door, then turns around. “Take all the time you need.”

As soon as the door clicks shut, Eddie starts pacing around the tiny exam room. “Okay, okay. We’re having two babies. At the same time.”

“Yes, that’s generally what happens with twins.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. “I could do without your sarcasm right now, Sweetheart. I just found out that I’m about to out-kid Steve Harrington.”

“Out-kid?” You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a laugh. 

Eddie doesn’t pick up on your joking tone. “Yes! He has four, and I’ll have five. Five!” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I was barely keeping two alive before you came along, and now I’m gonna be responsible for five?!”

“First of all,” you say, pushing yourself up, “you were an amazing dad before we got together. Even before I started watching the boys, when you were basically doing it on your own. Give yourself some credit. Second, Ryan will be going to college soon enough, so we’ll only have four kids in the house.”

Your attempt at consoling your husband falls flat. “Oh my god, I’m gonna have infants while my oldest is gonna be in college! I’m supposed to be slowing down, not re-babyproofing the house!” He buries his head in his hands. “What were we thinking? And why do you always have to look so hot? I wouldn’t be tempted to jump your bones all the time if you weren’t so goddamn sexy.”

You sigh. “I mean, you’re the one who’s always telling me you want to ‘pump me full of your babies.’ Guess now you really did it.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie runs his hands down his face and takes a deep breath. He stands in the same spot, staring at you for a few silent moments before a smile begins to crack through his fog. “Holy shit.”

“Calming down now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Or realizing I’m the one who has to push two of them out of my body?”

Eddie ambles over to you on the examining table and rests his forehead against yours. His shoulders have gone down to their usual height again, no longer bunched up around his ears with tension. 

“Okay, I had my mini freak out,” he says softly, reaching up to tug the hem of your shirt down back over your bump. “You may have yours.”

With a low chuckle, you reach up and cup your husband’s face in your hands. 

“I still don’t think it’s hit me yet,” you admit. “Or maybe trying to logic-out your fear helped me with my own, too. I mean, you said something about being too old to re-babyproof the house? Sweetheart, we would have had to do that with one baby anyway.”

“Common sense left me there for a little bit, I’ll admit.”

“And I’ve got one more bone to pick with you,” you say, leaving one hand on his face and using the other to poke him in the chest. 

“What’s that?”

“You said Steve was pretty much born to be a dad. Eddie, out of all the people I’ve ever met in my life, you are definitely the one who was always meant to be a dad.” You lower your hand to your bump. “Because it doesn’t matter if there were one, two, three, or even eight babies in here. You’d still love them all unconditionally and try your hardest to give the world to them.”

“I love our babies,” Eddie replies softly. His hand moves to rest on top of yours on your bump. “I love our twins.”

“Hey, we’ve got some extra resources this time around, too,” you point out. “Ryan drives now. We can recruit him for diaper or formula runs. And he can take Luke and Eliza places if we’re not able to. Luke is old enough now not to be intimidated by being around newborns. He’ll definitely be more hands-on than he was with Eliza. And speaking of the little firecracker…we already know she’s going to be like a mother hen to them. See? Recruiting the kids to help with the kids. And that doesn’t even mention Wayne and all of our friends. At least ninety percent of them owe us from watching their kids at one point or another.” 

“My wife is so smart,” Eddie praises with a small smile. 

“She is,” you reply coyly. “Do you think you could help me off this table, though? Makes sense why it’s been harder for me to get up from things lately—two against one here.”

Eddie gently takes your arms and leads you to a comfortable seated position before helping you hop down from the high table. 

The two of you walk hand-in-hand out of the doctor’s office and across the parking lot to your car. The sun seems warmer and brighter than when you went in. There’s not a cloud in the sky—were there any before? Birds call to one another from the trees that encircle the medical plaza, and their tune brings a smile to your face. Everything seems so light and airy around you that it almost makes you feel like you’re dissociating. But there’s Eddie’s hand in yours. The sneakers you wear knock against the concrete with every step, reverberating the vibration up your legs. You’re very much here in this moment. The magic in the air comes from knowing the amount of love you carried for the bundle of joy in your belly has just doubled. The thought of kissing two little button noses goodnight every day instead of one has you giddy. 

“Baby,” you say as Eddie opens the passenger car door for you. “We’re gonna have double the cuddles.”

“Double the drooly kisses.” The smile on your husband’s face tells you that he’s excited about the prospect. “Double new baby smell.”

You secure your seatbelt and rest both of your hands on your belly as Eddie walks around the car and slides into the driver’s seat. 

“Double the love we give and receive,” you muse softly, looking down at your protruding bump. “I wonder if I’ll get double the pain meds when I’m in labor.”

Eddie laughs as he pulls the car out of the parking space. 

“Time will tell,” he says. “Are you hungry, princess?”

“Yeah. I mean, makes sense, since I’m eating for three,” you reply. “But don’t you have to get back to work?”

“There is no way I’ll be able to focus on anything,” Eddie says with a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. “I’m taking the rest of the day.”

“Okay. Do you want to get lunch at—oh boy.”

Eddie’s eyes glance over at you before looking back on the road.

“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not wrong,” you say. “Just…I-I don’t know how we’ll keep this from the kids. We didn’t think we’d have anything to report to them other than the baby being healthy since we’re not finding out the sex. But there’s absolutely no way I won’t slip up and say ‘babies’ or ‘them’ or something that will give it away. I’d rather they hear the news from us directly than catching us in a slip.”

Eddie nods in agreement. “How do you think we should tell them?”

“Umm…” You purse your lips as you start to ponder different scenarios. Both you and Eddie think in silence for a few minutes before he speaks.

“Oh, I’ve got an idea…”

Eliza is thrilled to have both of her parents picking her up from school. The way she goes on and on about an arts and crafts project they did in class today reminds you of when you were just the babysitter and picked Ryan and Luke up from school. Luke always had something interesting to babble on about—much to your amusement. 

Your second oldest is already at home when you walk in the front door holding Eliza’s hand and Eddie trails in behind with a few bags from the store. Usually, Ryan drives both himself and Luke home from school every day, but now Ryan takes SAT Prep classes once a week after school, forcing Luke to take the bus home. Which you’d think was one of the trials of Hercules with how often Luke shares his disdain for the form of transportation. 

“Whatcha got, Pops?” Luke asks from the couch. His hand is buried in a bag of white cheddar popcorn and an episode of Supernatural is on the television. 

“You’ll see,” Eddie tells him, taking the bags straight to your room. Best to keep them out of the way of the two nosiest Munson children. Although, you wonder to yourself if that will change with the new additions. 

Eliza spies the snack her brother has and quickly sheds her Little Mermaid backpack and pink Mary Jane shoes to climb up on the couch next to him. She sticks an arm in the popcorn bag and brings out as big a handful as her little fist would allow her. 

“There’s food in the bags,” Eliza says to Luke through the kernels stuffing her cheeks.

“Huh?” Luke clearly doesn’t speak four-year-old-with-a-full-mouth.

“The bags Daddy has,” Eliza says once she’s swallowed. She wipes her white cheddar covered fingertips on her white tights. “There’s food in them. I smelled it in the car.” 

“Good job, Watson,” he tells her.

“Uh, who?” Eliza gives her older brother a look that clearly relays she thinks he’s crazy. It doesn’t stop her from taking another handful of popcorn, though. 

“Watson. Sherlock Holmes’ assistant. They’re detectives, Lize.”

“Oh,” is all she says before shoving more popcorn into her mouth. 

You putter around, cleaning up the kitchen and tidying the living room to keep yourself from spilling the beans too early. It’s important to wait until Ryan gets home later. You just know time is going to crawl by at a snail’s pace for the next hour and a half.

When your oldest son finally arrives home, you usher everyone around the kitchen table for a family meeting. 

“Am I in trouble?” Luke huffs. “Because if I am, I’d like to plead not guilty.”

Eddie raises his brows. “Not sure why you’d be in trouble, but I’m sure we’ll find out.” He clears his throat, placing a loving hand on your bump. “No, this family meeting is to tell you guys some exciting news we got at the ultrasound today.”

He reaches over and plucks a grease-soaked Burger King bag from the counter. “Ry, you get the first clue.”

Ryan practically tears open the bag, the hungry teenager ready to devour the Double Whopper without even unwrapping it. 

“Is the baby a hamburger?” Ryan asks mid-bite. He pulls out the fries you got along with it. “Or is it small? Is the clue ‘small fry?’”

You shake your head. “Nope. Nice try, though.” 

Luke’s clue is next, though he’s too busy trying to get his brother to share his food to really pay attention. When Ryan finally relents and tosses a fry his way, Luke looks down at the Gameboy game box in front of him. 

“A Looney Tunes double pack?” He wrinkles his nose. “Are you naming the baby Tweety Bird?”

Eliza sticks out her little tongue in disgust. “That’s a horrible name for a baby!”

“Maybe it looks like Elmer Fudd, like Eliza did when she was born,” Ryan chimes in, licking ketchup off of his thumb. 

“Who?” Your daughter glances between the boys, unaware of the joke being made at her expense.

Luke doesn’t hesitate to fill her in. “The weird guy who hunts Bugs Bunny. The one who always goes, ‘ooh, I hate that wabbit!’”

Eliza shoots him a glare that’s equal parts adorable and terrifying. Luckily, she’s easily distracted by her clue. 

“For Eliza,” you say as you tug the crinkling Target bag off of the biggest hint of all. Eddie already made sure to open the box and cut any wires attached so your daughter can get right at the twin Baby Alive dolls. 

The four-year-old gasps. “Babies!” She holds her arms out as you deliver the box to her.

Little fingers grab onto the first doll, and she gently places it on the table in front to her before removing the second doll. The rest of the family watches in amusement as Eliza covers the baby on the table with a blanket, and cradles the other one in her arms, holding its bottle to its mouth. 

“So,” Eddie asks, rubbing his hands together, “what do these gifts have in common?”

The three of them begin to think. At least, you’re pretty sure Eliza is thinking about it. She’s gazing down at the doll in her arms with the most heartwarming compassion. 

“There’s two burger patties, two games, two dolls…” Luke muses.

“Wait,” Ryan says, his head perking up as an idea occurs to him. “Is it a girl? Like, two X chromosomes?”

Your husband simply stares at your oldest son for a moment before responding.

“In what world would I be smart enough to come up with that?” he asks. 

Luke nods his head in your direction. “Ma is, though. But I think it’s a boy because there’s two of us boys already.”

“Then the hint would have to do with three, genius,” Ryan scoffs. 

The younger brother contorts his face and mocks his brother’s words in a high-pitched voice.

“Maybe Mama has two babies in her belly.” Your daughter’s words are spoken with the most casual tone, the majority of her attention on the plastic doll she’s gently rocking to sleep in her arms. 

The boys both laugh, Ryan rolling his eyes at what he considers a silly idea from a little girl. The Munson brothers turn to you and Eddie, expecting you to be joining in on the laughter, but all they find are your excited and hopeful faces. The chuckles trail off as the boys pause and consider what those faces mean. 

“Wait, you don’t mean…” Ryan starts.

“Oh my GOD!” Luke shouts, banging his hands down on the table in front of him. It rattles the doll Eliza isn’t holding, and she gives her big brother a glare over the disturbance. 

“No way!” Ryan stands up, excitement nearly paralyzing him. He doesn’t know what to do except smile as he holds his arms out in front of him awkwardly. “It’s really…twins?!”

“It’s twins!” you confirm. You make an attempt to stand as well, but the two babies inside of you are keeping your center of gravity low enough to make you give up. 

“Two babies!” Luke hoots. “This is insane!”

Eddie chuckles, his heart at once light as air and completely full at seeing the excitement of his boys. 

“Do you have a picture?” Luke asks.

“The sonogram,” Ryan adds.

“Yeah! Can we see it? Let us see the picture!”

“Do you even know what you’ll be looking at?” Ryan asks as he sits back down next to his brother.

Luke shrugs. “They’ll show us.”

“Okay, okay, here it is,” you say, handing over the image that’s been sitting in your back pocket. “That little spot right there is one baby, and that one right there is the other baby.”

Their stunned faces make you giggle softly as you lean back. 

“Oh my God,” Ryan says. “I can’t believe it’s twins.”

“Holy sh—crap, we’re going to have two new siblings.”

“We’re going to need a bigger house,” Ryan says, looking around the room everyone is seated in.

“Wow, there’s going to be a lot of people living here,” Luke says. “Dad, were you going for twins?”

“That’s not how it works, doofus,” Ryan says as Eddie shakes his head in amusement. 

Luke scoffs. “Explain it to me then, Mr. SAT.”

Eliza heaves a deep sigh for someone with such a tiny body and small lungs. She sets the baby doll in her arms down on the table next to its sleeping sibling. 

“You’re so loud!” she complains. 

“Lize, it’s twin babies!” Luke tells her, gently shaking her frame back and forth. 

“I know, I know, you keep saying it over and over!”

“Aren’t you excited?” Ryan asks her. 

Your daughter shrugs her shoulders once before picking her doll back up and cradling it in the crook of her arm.

“Sure.” 

Both boys look to you and Eddie at her lackluster reaction. You give a gentle shake of your head.

“Don’t worry,” you tell them. “It’ll click at some point.” 

“Oh, what a day,” you sigh as you slip under the blankets to lay down next to your husband. Eddie lifts his arm, and you immediately cuddle up to his side, resting your head on his shoulder. Your bump nudges his side, and you rub one hand over the soft material of your worn t-shirt. “Makes sense why my bump is more pronounced earlier than it was with Eliza.”

Eddie wraps one arm around your shoulders and brings the other one down to place his hand on top of your own. 

“Can't believe there are four of us in this bed,” he says with a light chuckle.

“Daddyyyyy! Mamaaaaaa!”

A four-year-old with wild curls runs into your room and leaps onto the bed, landing at your and Eddie’s feet.

“Make that five of us,” Eddie says. 

“You’re supposed to be asleep, Little Miss,” you tell Eliza.

She pushes herself onto her hands and knees in her purple piggy pajamas and quickly crawls up the infinitesimal space between you and her father. 

“Careful, careful,” Eddie cautions the closer she gets to your belly.

Eliza halts her ascent and leans back on her heels. Her chocolate brown eyes are as wild as her bedhead is.

“I’m gonna be a big sister to two babies?!” 

Across the hall, a chuckle reverberates in Ryan’s chest as he turns to lay on his side in bed.

“There it is.”

[shaisuki]

Hi may I request yuji/sukuna taking “turns” with their chubby darling, just them non stop love making showing how much they absolutely adore her & filling her to the brim 🩷

sukuna was willing to put his pride back. tagging along with his host for the sake of having the taste of your fat pussy in his mouth and it was such a little low for him that he's using his host's cock just to fill her sweet pussy. such a shame you weren't being fucked by his two cocks in his original form. you would absolutely take it. your pussy was made for his cock.

but now — he's using it. having to coaxed that brat of a host of his to consider the offer that he had given to him. the three rules and one of them was to let him ravage you using itadori's body.

the brat wasn't the easiest and took him more of a little convincing. he wants to bark a laugh. there's no convincing in his past. sukuna doesn't do persuasion.

“you take this cock so well. you would do better on my cocks.” sukuna muses. pinning the back of your wrist while he fucks you from behind. the swell of your ass hitting his pelvis or rather itadori's.

your face buried in the pillows while you cry out his name in pleasure. the stretch of itadori's fat cock inside you fills you up so deliciously and being pounded by sukuna was the cherry on top.

sukuna chuckles behind as he leaned in. his hot breath tickling the skin in your back where layers of skin are like dough being repeatedly kneaded by the thrust of his hips. the constant slap of skin to skin filling the room.

“you could have been my favorite concubine if you existed in my time.” he muses. changing the he rhythm of his thrust, turning into one brutal slam of his hips. “i'll have you filled with my cum every night. stuffed with my cocks full that you'll feel me for days inside you.” letting out a groan when he feels you squeezing around him. “you like that? it's a privilege being filled with my seed and you're the perfect one.” smirking at your skin when he hears you gasp.

sukuna takes a lick. his tongue (itadori's) drags at the soft expanse of your skin — covered with a thin sheen of sweat from the coupling before sinking his teeth into the skin. the sensation making you tighten around him and with a sudden harsh slam of his hips. he buried his dick to the hilt. the tip of his cock nudging at the entrance of your womb before spurting thick ropes of his cum. painting your walls white and filling you to the brim.

you cried out as it triggered your orgasm and the stinging of the skin breaking from his teeth. droplets of blood surfacing and sukuna licked the crimson liquid. groaning at the taste of your blood. it had been so long since he got a taste of the human flesh. your blood will work for now.

sukuna grins at the sight of your plush body riddled with his bite marks. some of your blood seeped through the cracks of your skin where he had bitten. proud of what he had done and if you're pussy weren't any good, he already had devoured you.

annoyance settled before him as he feels the owner of the body he currently lives switched with him. he can cooperate for now. he will be back later though.

itadori got a hold back of his body. he bites back a moan. his cock that was previously used by sukuna is still nestled inside you. the remnants of his cum trickled at the sheets beneath him. mixed with your own arousal.

he slowly pulls his cock out. gently turning you around. laying in his bed with your face fucked out having achieved multiple orgasms from being fucked earlier, both itadori and the curse living inside him, sukuna had repeatedly filled you to the brim.

“yuuji....” you weakly moaned out and itadori leans down. burying his face in the crook of your neck. his cock still hard pressing in the skin of your thigh littered with bites. “you can still take more...” lifting you up easily like you weigh nothing in his lap. “of course, she still can.” come sukuna interrupts. his mouth forming in yuuji's cheek. itadori ignores it.

you weakly gripped yuuji's shoulder as he lifts you up before slowly sinking your awaiting heat to his cock. “yuuji!” you throw your head back. the sensitivity of your abused cunt adding tremors of pleasure-pain down in your core.

“i got you, okay...” the pink-haired sorcerer coos at you. settling in for a easy rhythm as he thrusts upwards. groaning as your fat pussy wraps around his cock. hugging him like a glove.

“f-feels so good!” you cried out. tangling your fingers in his head while you lean down to kiss him and yuuji accepted it with open mouth. his lips sucking your tongue as he builds up the pace of fucking you.

he grabs a boob in his hand squeezing it while the other holds your ass and sukuna's mouth appeared on his palm where his hand is. biting your nipple before sucking them. you clenched harder around him. moaning in the kiss as you moved your hips downward meeting his thrust.

itadori couldn't stop. you just feels so good. he can't bring himself to stop despite having released his load to you before sukuna took over. you were made for him and for you to take his cock repeatedly is enough for him to bust his load again. over and over to your awaiting cunt. the squelch of his cum that he previously filled you with mingled with your arousal adds to his heightened senses and it didn't take long for him to fill you up again.

his hips stuttering before completely grinding your hips on his to fill you with his load. you had already cummed and the sensation of being filled again send you the edge again. you softly pant. regaining your breath while you slowly roll your hips to prolong your orgasm and his.

you press a chaste kiss to itadori's face and you bite back a moan. sukuna's tattoos are already appearing and it was far from done. it looks like these two had already came to understand for one thing, is that to fill you up with their cum.

you weren't complaining to and sukuna's smirk and tattoos disappearing to show yuuji was the last thing you see before you drifted to sleep. filled to the brim with their cum.

[marysfics]

Comfort in Confidence

Your girlfriend feels a little insecure.

Short Fluff

The soft music from your stereo thumped through the walls as you finished getting ready. You adjusted your outfit one last time, excitement bubbling up for the night ahead. You’d been looking forward to this — a chance to introduce Alexia to more of your friends and, admittedly, show off a little. After all, she was Alexia Putellas, and tonight she was going with you.

But as you stepped out into the hallway, ready to leave, you realized Alexia wasn’t anywhere in sight. You frowned, calling her name and hearing only silence. That’s when you noticed the bathroom door was closed, with light streaming from underneath.

“Ale?” you called, walking over and knocking gently. “Are you almost ready?”

There was a long pause, and then, a soft voice from the other side of the door. “Yeah…I’m, um, I’m almost ready.”

Her tone was hesitant, something you rarely heard from her. Instantly, you knew something was off.

“Ale,” you said gently, “are you okay? Can I come in?”

After a beat, the door cracked open, and Alexia’s face peeked out, her cheeks a little flushed. She hesitated before opening the door wider, revealing her outfit — the same loose hoodie and sweatpants she’d been wearing earlier. Her arms were crossed protectively, and she didn’t meet your eyes right away.

“Sorry, I just… I know I’m supposed to be dressed up,” she murmured, her gaze flickering down to the ground. “But I really don’t feel like wearing something fancy tonight. I thought I could get myself into the mood, but I just…couldn’t. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

You softened, reaching out and gently taking her hands, coaxing her to look at you. “Ale, you’re not embarrassing me. I promise.” You offered her a reassuring smile. “I don’t care what you wear. I’m going with you, not your outfit.”

Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but she still looked unconvinced. “But you got all dressed up, and I just…I feel out of place standing next to you like this.”

You shook your head, holding her hands a little tighter. “Alexia, you’re perfect. I love you just the way you are, sweats and all. Honestly, I think you look amazing. I’ve always loved seeing you comfortable and just…being yourself. I don’t need you in a dress for that.”

She let out a small, relieved sigh, the tension finally melting away as she held onto your hands. “You really don’t mind?”

You shook your head, giving her a soft smile. “Not even a little bit.”

Alexia took a deep breath, finally letting herself smile back at you, that hint of shyness replaced by warmth. She pulled you into a hug, resting her forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I feel better now. Let’s go to that party.”

As you headed out hand in hand, you couldn’t help but notice how her confidence grew with every step. No one else would know how vulnerable she’d felt tonight, and she walked beside you like she owned the room. And as you snuck glances at her through the night, you knew that this was what made her shine.

[heechwe]

the start of time | 𝐩𝐣𝐬

୨୧ pairing: park (jay) jongseong x reader ୨୧ word count: 8.6k ୨୧ genre: angst, semi-fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: friends to strangers to lovers, childhood friends, miscommunication, pet names (baby, love, etc.), unprotected sex, TRIGGERS FOR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND PARENTAL ABUSE IN THE LATTER HALF OF FIC. ୨୧ synopsis: You've lost your creative spark for the first time since moving away from Jeju Island, leaving behind your best friend in the process without an explanation. But when a work assignment sends you back to your hometown, truths come to light and perhaps lost love can come back with a little time and effort. ➸ bless @pars-ley for following this fic to the very beginning and being one of the best betas ever! this story is for you, ley, and thank you ♡ 💿Listen to the story's playlist here!

Over the thin railing that separates Jay from the cliffs below, the waves crash violently together. The weather mirrors the feelings circulating through his veins. The ripples of the seabed meeting the sand make him long for what his life could be instead of its current state. The wind whips his trenchcoat in angry thrashes against his back. His hands grip the lighthouse’s iron bars to keep his body steady. The upcoming storm was forecast last night to be one of the biggest downpours of the summer.

As the second in command of the lighthouse keeper, his father, it’s standard practice to be prepared for what’s to come. As the sea continues its visceral reaction to the weather, Jay thinks about her and what her life has become since she’s left. Is she happy? Is Seoul everything she dreamed of? Was running from Jeju without saying goodbye worth it? Or is she closer than he believes, her heart’s desire turning out to be not far from the fishing town they grew up in?

His father calls for him inside, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. Probably for the better, anyway. Thinking about those chapters of his life, the book separated cleanly and harshly with a before and after, does him no good. So, like he should, he runs inside to do the next task that keeps one of the last lighthouses in Jeju working properly. Even if his heart has to be sacrificed in the process.

The subject of your next photograph takes no interest in the lens standing three feet away. Her tail wiggles rapidly as she inspects the bush in front of her with her perky, wet nose. You giggle quietly behind your camera, trying not to disturb her inspection of the roses.

Rule #1 of photography, according to your department head Sunghoon, is to make yourself nonexistent. To get the perfect shot, conceal yourself as much as possible. It’s taken many practice sessions since your first magazine catalog, the original photos coming out less than perfect. Thankfully, you’re now lead photographer thanks to Sunghoon’s tutelage and tips. After five years, you feel like you’re on stable ground.

It reminds you of Jay, the sudden memory of him being the focus of your lens many times before a punch to the gut. Your oldest friend in the world probably wonders what the reason was for your sudden departure. You couldn’t even leave him a letter to provide some semblance of an explanation, one that he definitely deserved more than anyone else.

If only you had a reason that made sense or could salvage the bond you once shared. You know now it’s been eaten away by silence, so what could be said anyhow to repair it? 

Your guilt gnaws at your empty stomach the entire way back to the headquarters of Otherworldly, the magazine you interned at and subsequently were hired to take pictures for. You greet the rest of your team when you make your way upstairs.

”Finally found some inspiration?” Sunwoo asks. Your friend tries to balance a pencil on the top of his nose.

”I’m working on it. In the meantime, I got the copies you wanted.” You give him the folder that holds your pictures for the month’s spread.

”Barely made the deadline this time, kid.” Sunghoon tuts his head at you.

“Leave her be,” Chaewon chides him, thwacking her notebook on the back of his head. It’s nice to know the writer’s room has your back when the boys decide to tease, especially in the form of Chaewon. She may be a stern leader, but she also happens to have a soft spot for you, the only female photographer.

You hear your boss, Kim Taehyung, call your name and ask you to come to his office. Your body bristles at the command, but Chaewon pats you on the shoulder. “Probably just a timesheet thing.”

Tip-toeing into Taehyung’s office, you smile at his back. Your boss is focused on a box of files on the windowsill, the outline of his button up shirt highlighted by the sun. “Please sit,” he says.

You do as he asks, putting your hands on your knees to pinch the skin, an old habit you couldn't kick. You tuck your hands under your legs to stop when Taehyung turns to you. He presses his glasses higher to the bridge of his nose, a soft smile emerging on his lips. “I wanted to say your photos from the last column were very impressive.”

”Oh!” You respond instinctively. Expecting reprimands that turned out to be compliments, you mentally take a deep breath of relief. “Thank you, sir.”

"Also," he says, "I was wondering how you’d feel being sent out on an assignment. Well, you and Sunwoo, actually. Sunghoon was discussing a location-focused piece, and he recommended you for it since you may need a change of scenery for some fresh inspiration.”

You nod your head immediately. “Of course!”

Taehyung claps his hands together, clearly pleased. “Perfect. I’ve already booked you two for the next flight to Aewol in two days. It’ll probably be easy to find a place to stay, right?”

The pit in your stomach that faded immediately widens into a chasm. The sound of your hometown’s name on Taehyung’s lips could have been a figment of your imagination. A sick joke your guilt materialized to punish you further. But as you look longer at your boss, his glee transforming into hesitant confusion, you know the reality is far worse.

”The location piece is for Jeju,” you say, the realization on your lips hitting your ears like a cannon.

”Is that an issue? I can always send Jungwon with Sunwoo instead."

”No sir! Not a problem at all.” The words tumble out before you can stop them.

Jungwon, the little prick, wouldn’t get in the way of your success if you could help it. It’s bad enough that he reminds you of your creative block whenever he gets the chance. No way would he steal a cover piece from you. Particularly the one Sunghoon recommended you for and your boss expected you to complete without problems.

Despite the implications creating intense dread in every fiber of your being.

”Perfect. Get some sleep for the flight! I’ll send the piece details in an email first thing tomorrow morning.”

You walk back to your desk in a daze, unsure what to say when Sunghoon, Sunwoo, and Chaewon ask about the meeting. All your thoughts can center on is Jay, his smiling face continuously playing in your mind’s eye.

“This town is cute! A bit barren, but cute,” Sunwoo says as he exits the car parked in front of your childhood home. Your mother’s rose bushes stand tall near the mailbox, the only color in the dry grasslands surrounding your house. Aewol pales in comparison to the colors of Seoul, the city’s vibrant hues suddenly replaced with sepia tones. The only color that seems to shine through the landscape is the sea a five-minute walk away.

”Say that again, Woo, and your face won’t look so cute.” You roll your eyes and grab your luggage from the trunk.

Two weeks, only two weeks, you can survive two weeks. Your mantra on the flight to Jeju Island has been giving you some relief at the thought of going back home in half a decade. Standing in front of the brick and mortar that encapsulates your old house, you find the words to be extremely hollow.

With her uncanny senses, your mother is already out the door and greeting you and Sunwoo with hugs and kisses on the cheeks. How she could tell the two of you were barely out of the car without spying out the window, you’re unsure.

Sunwoo melts under your mother’s attention, his gummy smile and polite aura on full display. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

”Ah, my prayers were answered. Glad to see my daughter returned with a boyfriend!”

Yours and Sunwoo’s eyes grow to saucers. Your tongues are erupting with explanations at an absurdly fast speed. “No, Mom,” you shush her as Sunwoo’s blush creeps across his neck. “Woo’s my coworker. He’s here with me on an assignment.”

”Oh! Apologies.” She laughs behind one hand and pats Sunwoo on the back with the other. “Doesn’t mean one day you can’t be more than coworkers! That’s how your father and I met, remember?”

You give her a close-lipped smile and nod, the muscles in your jaw tightening.

You hadn’t thought about your father or your parents’ relationship once since you had flown out to the mainland. Admittedly, your life was all the better for it.

Feeling the air of his presence surrounding yours again twists the veins in your neck to tense knots. The ends of your hair prickle in anticipation. You make it to the front of your doorstep, wondering where he is and why he didn’t barge outside to greet you.

Like she can read your mind, your mother says, “I forgot to call and tell you, honey. Your father had an accident at the factory a month ago.” You see a tear in the corner of her eye, but you don’t address it. “So…he’s been bedridden for the past few months now.”

Sunwoo expresses his deepest sympathies. Unbeknownst to him, they deserve to go to the next beggar before him.

Like any other child, you should worry about your father’s sudden health change with a heavy heart and a frazzled mind. You should feel guilty for being away for so long, wondering how to make up for the lost time.

But you feel nothing. Not an ounce of what you should feel.

Even when you sit by your parents’ bed, his eyes lazily gazing out the window while your mother tells him in a loving voice that you’re home, your emotions are devoid of anything negative or positive. Sunwoo smiles and greets him politely. Your father says nothing. The seizure that overtook him stole his ability to enunciate coherent words.

Some moments later, when it’s just the two of you in the room together, you itch to leave. It should be a pleasure to see him. But you’re unsure to see it any other way but objectively: he’s just a body in a bed, doing nothing every day.

You hear your mother shouting in the living room. Her voice is at an abnormally high pitch to exemplify her happiness. You forgot she could achieve such a decibel when she wanted to.

”You won’t believe who’s here, Seongie!”

Seongie.

The childhood nickname Jay was blessed with by his parents, and the name stuck like a second skin. Now, it bounces off your ears and exacerbates your already conflicting emotions. Your body goes into overdrive from the sudden overstimulation, at ease from knowing Jay is close by but petrified you're seeing him after so long.

You fix your hair and take tentative steps out of your parents' room and into the hallway, hearing your mother call your name to beckon you to welcome your old friend.

When you see him, his frame filling the doorway of your childhood house, you’re transported back in time. You see yourself and Jay on a day when he could barely stand at half the wall height. You were etching pencil markings into the doorframe, the wood concealing the handwriting perfectly when the door was fully closed. A time when there were no worries or anxieties placed on you, the two of you against the world.

Looking over his face now, you realize the years have not shown physically. He still has the same angled jaw and smooth cheeks. His bottom lip remains puffy, especially when he pouts. The only thing that has changed with time is his eyes, most likely from the image before him, one he hasn’t seen in so long.

He has every right to be confused. One second, you stopped being a staple in his life. Now, you’re back in it without a warning.

You can’t deny your heart clenching. The muscle seizes when he looks over your figure, his jaw ticking when he finally meets your eyes with his own.

”You’re back,” he says finally. His first words to you in five years hold an air of uncertainty, laced with unspoken pain. He’s unsure what to do with his body, his arms pressed to his sides and his hands stuffed tightly into his pockets.

Knowing you’re the cause of it makes you want to run to Seoul all over again with your tail between your legs, hoping you can forget the misery you’ve caused. How can one apology hold enough weight to make up for what you did to one of the only people you’ve ever loved?

Sunwoo, aware of the sudden tension flooding the room, holds out a hand to your best friend. “Hi, I’m Sunwoo.”

Jay breaks eye contact with you to take Sunwoo’s palm, shaking it with a gentle but present grip. Jay gestures to your mom when he discusses yours and Sunwoo’s job at the magazine. “She’s very proud of her daughter, you know."

”Of course!” Your mother exclaims. “‘S not everyday that your child becomes some hip photographer.”

Jay inhales a heavy breath and looks down at his watch. “I have to go back to the lighthouse, but—“

”I thought your dad still ran that thing,” you cut Jay off. Aewol’s lighthouse was one of the last on the island, and the last love Jay’s father had left after his wife passed away twelve years ago. You expected it to stay in the family, but not in this way. Not when Jay has so many dreams to fulfill. Or, at least, you hope so.

Jay releases a humorless laugh, eyes falling at the corners. “Pop’s getting old. Can’t do it forever.”

He hugs your mother and gives a soft wave to Sunwoo. You feel the pit in your chest from a few days ago re-erupt when Jay looks in your direction before he departs. All you’re left with is the grim line of his mouth to haunt you for the rest of your afternoon.

The shutter of your camera makes Jay turn his head to you with a shy grin, his hair blowing in all directions from the wind. Your spot on the cliffside overlooking the sea is close enough to the lighthouse for you to see Jay’s father going in and out of the structure with supplies shipped from the mainland. Jay only runs over when his father calls for him to help, but his father hasn’t bothered to in the last hour or so.

In the downtime, the two of you have been alternating between science homework and enjoying the cool, cloudy weather. You’ve taken a number of shots of the water’s current and weeds surrounding your picnic blanket, but the majority of them were of your best friend. He pretends he’s going to smack your lens away, but he never does.

“Are you done taking candid shots of me?” Jay asks, his pencil scratching against his notebook.

“Depends. Maybe once you tell me what you’re writing,” you tease. “Because it’s definitely not a chemical equation.”

Jay chuckles and puts his notebook between the two of you. The words are jumbled in front of you until you recognize them as a recipe. “I was testing out this version of hoedeopbap last night, but I used white fish instead of salmon. It turned out really good, even Jaeyun liked it.”

You rest your head on your hand, sprawling out on the blanket to look at Jay. He always appears so animated when discussing food. You wonder when he’ll take the initiative and do something with his passion.

“What?” He asks when he catches you staring.

You grin and turn your eyes away. “You’re just a dork for food, is all.”

“Says the nerd with her camera always around her neck.”

You click your tongue at him. “I consider myself an opportunist. How else will I get good shots if I don’t have my baby with me?” You rub your camera’s body lovingly, and Jay releases a hearty laugh.

The booming sound of your father’s voice calling your name makes your entire body flinch. You swear his figure is as tall as the lighthouse as he comes towards your picnic blanket, stopping short when he sees Jay next to you.

“It’s almost dinner time. Let’s go home.” Your father says the words with a false ease; they hide his warning to follow him back to your house. Your anxiety rumbles low in your stomach, but you play it off like it’s nothing as you pack up your stuff.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jay says, his eyes hopeful for the next morning. As it is your routine for him to bike with you to school, you’re also counting the minutes until you see him again.

“See you tomorrow,” you say, your eyes soft but your stomach wrapped in knots. When you’re out of sight, and your father wraps his hand around your upper arm on your way to the car, you calculate the next seconds until you’re away from him and back in the safety of your best friend’s presence.

You and Sunwoo have been around the town square of Aewol all morning and afternoon. The crisp hour of 4 PM hits you sharply with the sound of cows and other livestock sounding off somewhere nearby. The pictures you’ve both taken of the local townspeople, random animals passing through the pale greenery, and subtle landscape have been average at best. They don’t hit you with awe or fuel any further inspiration. It’s the same cycle you’ve repeated for the past three months, trying to strike some sort of match of creativity only to come up empty.

“Let’s be honest,” Sunwoo says, looking over his own camera’s reel. “These kinda blow.”

“You don’t say?” You kick a free cobblestone off the road in front of you, lips downturned.

“The assignment is ‘Hidden Treasures’ right? Maybe we’re just looking in the wrong place.”

“Where do you think we’ll find something like that here?”

“You’re a local,” Sunwoo says in his defense. “Where did you go all the time in this backwater town?”

The beginning of your sarcastic remark dies on your lips the second you see Jay walking out of the laundromat with Heeseung, one of your old high school friends. He looks the same as Jay, still youthful but showing maturity around the edges.

Jay catches your eyes as they continue walking, his face contorting in surprise but unsure how to address it. Heeseung is the one to run towards you and pick you up in a tight hug, practically squeezing the remaining energy out of you.

“Holy shit, Jong wasn’t lying! You’re really back!” Heeseung laughs, his eyes becoming crescent moons from his happiness. You match his reaction, genuinely glad to see another familiar face.

You introduce Sunwoo to Heeseung, and Sunwoo exchanges pleasantries with Jay. Jay remains tense, the two of you conflicted about how to bridge the awkwardness that lingers.

Heeseung, like Sunwoo, is a great detective, sniffing out tension and immediately directing the conversation to your cameras. “So, Jong was saying you’re here for an assignment?”

“Yes!” Sunwoo says before you can. “We’re trying to find hidden treasures, actually. Our boss’s words, not mine.” Heeseung laughs at Sunwoo and then flicks his fingers.

“Jong could show you guys the inside of the lighthouse! Or even the view from that damn balcony would be a treasure in its own right. You can practically see the whole town from up there. Right, Jong?”

Jay rolls his eyes and rolls the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows. “Yeah, that would be fine.”

“Perfect! We were dying here without any good material. No offense to you small town folk,” Sunwoo apologizes, but neither of your old friends mind. They welcome Sunwoo’s city perspective with laughter and an open hand, just like they always have with newcomers.

On your walk to the lighthouse, Heeseung and Sunwoo taking the lead, you’re left to walk alongside Jay. The tension is a tad looser than it was before, but it still pervades the space between you both.

Finally, Jay says, “I can’t believe you’re actually home, y’know.” He says the sentence more like a question, his voice unable to mask the traces of hurt that linger.

It makes your heart rip, but you avoid the workings inside your chest to keep the conversation light. "It took a long time, didn't it?”

”Yeah. It’s like you dropped off the planet.” Jay’s voice turns a degree lighter. He smiles, the crack in his solid facade giving you a way back in.

“I basically did. All I had was my camera and some clothes in my bag.”

Jay's eyes widen, startled by the thought. “You’ve never traveled light once in your entire life.”

”I know! I barely had time to grab the necessities.”

His eyes are filled with humor. “And by that, you mean…”

“Obviously my Pokémon collection, for starters. I had to start from scratch,” you joke. “Good thing I saved all of the old cards under my bed.”

”Even the one of Charmander that I dropped in Jaeyun’s homemade soju?”

You nod, laughing. “It still smells like watermelon.”

”Bullshit!”

You both fall into an easy rhythm of witty banter and taunting, recalling old memories and brushing shoulders in a mocking fashion.

By the time you’re taking photographs on the highest floor of the lighthouse, the tension has dissipated by a large portion. Your relationship with Jay may not be completely back to where it was before, but the first lighthearted smile he throws in your direction proves it’s a start.

And a start is just enough to make your heart feel a million pounds lighter.

“So Jongseong is flailing this card around, not realizing that the bowl of my signature soju punch is right there behind him…” Jake tells the story of the Charmander card with animated expressions. Heeseung and Jay roll their eyes, but Sunwoo laughs the entire time, his buzz bumping his energy to a level you had never seen before.

The bonfire Jake and Heeseung set up a walk away from the lighthouse is big enough for all five of you to sit comfortably around it. It seemed to be the only way your old friends could hang out together at this point in their adult lives. The bar that still stood in town filled with too many old people to feel like an acceptable hangout location.

“And he completely dropped not only her precious Pokémon card, but his whole fist into the punch bowl! I had to make a whole new batch without my parents knowing about it!” Jake laughs incredulously.

The memory still holds a level of insanity for him, clearly—not just at the situation but the level of teasing that you and Jay would devolve to when you were in your own little world together. You couldn’t help that you wanted to take your card from Jay’s hands, even if that meant soaking him in alcohol to get him to give it up.

You lift your beer to your lips, blushing. Jay sits beside you and notices the humor in your expression, smiling to himself too. You didn’t expect to reach this level of closeness again so soon. Who knew it would take a work project to find your way back to each other? With the week coming to a close and a good catalog of photos under your belt thanks to him, you could say the glass was looking half full.

“You guys got any more stories? This shit’s hilarious!” Sunwoo says, still laughing.

“Loads, man,” Jake responds.

“He’s got the best memory of all of us. Probably remembers all of our first naps in elementary,” Heeseung adds.

“How about we focus on the present, please? Otherwise we’ll be here until the sun comes up, Dee and Dum,” Jay says, pointing to the prime suspects with their all-knowing smirks.

“What else is there to say, Jay? Jake and I have been toiling on the dredging boats. You keep guarding that white tower and saying no to your uncle every time he asks you to work at his restaurant. Same old, same old.”

You turn your head to stare at Jay, perplexed. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

It’s always been Jay’s dream to make something of himself with his recipes. Bookmarks, sticky notes, anything with free space held an ingredient here or a step for a recipe there. It was like it was second nature, as were photographs for you.

How could he deny himself from what he wanted?

“I already have responsibilities here. I can’t drive up and down the highway to Park & Co. every day.”

“Start small, idiot.” You chide him, half-serious in your pestering. “Who said you couldn't do both? You can be a good son and still have your own dream.”

“Careful,” Jake says to you. “He might listen to you.”

“You’re the only one who gets through that cold heart of his,” Heeseung teases.

Jay gives the older boys a stern look, and they back off immediately.

On the walk back to your house, Jay’s jacket nestled around your shoulders, you grill him further on the prospect of him cooking seriously. “You should do it.”

Jay shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. “And what’ll happen to the lighthouse? My dad will go back every morning on his cane and keep it working himself? No way.”

“Come on, who says you can’t do both?” You flaunt your arms in the air, emphasizing your point. “It’s not like it rains every day here.”

He looks at you with humored eyes, their shape becoming extremely thin when he smiles. “You’re even more stubborn as an adult, you know?

You poke your tongue out at him. “I could say the same about you, Seongie.”

The rain soaks your clothes when you run through Jay’s door. You shake off the droplets in your hair, most of the strands needing to be wrung out in your fist. Jay gets you a towel to dry off with, laughing at your current state of affairs.

”Don’t make fun of me. Be glad I still came, asshole,” you warn, warming yourself with the dryness of the cotton towel.

Jay raises his hands in mercy. “I told you to come earlier! Forecasts are no joke.”

”Sometimes they’re wrong,” you say. 

”Ninety-five percent of the time, they’re not. Trust the lighthouse keeper next time, maybe? I’ve been watching those skies for three years. I know if and when the weathermen are full of shit.”

You roll your eyes and shuck your shoes off, “Whatever. Any chance you have a spare pair of warm socks for me? I may get frostbite.”

”One, that involves snow,” Jay says as he walks into his small bedroom, leaving you alone for a second before coming out with what you requested. “And two, promise to bring them back. I only have so many pairs before I have to go to the city for more.”

”Scout’s honor,” you promise. You switch out your soaked socks for Jay’s, the feeling of the fabric making you immediately warmer. It could also be the fireplace that Jay put kindling in before you got there, but it’s mostly the socks. “Thank you. I feel better already.”

“I’d offer you a set of clothes too, but I’m moving a lot of my stuff from my dad’s.”

“It’s not that far away, though. You really want to live in this tiny shack?”

Jay laughs and returns to his food on the stove. “Do you think I could bring a girl home living with him? I love him, but I’m getting too old to be his roommate.”

You smile and press your arms into the kitchen counter, but you know it’s false. The thought of Jay being with someone else sprouts a gargantuan knot of jealousy in your stomach. He’s never belonged to you, not by any means. Not only that, but your illogical departure gives you no right to claim him now. And yet…

“Hey, where’d you go?” He waves a dish towel in front of your face, a smile on his lips.

“Sorry, just lost in thought,” you play off your prying thoughts.

“Obviously.” He sticks his tongue out at you and continues to stir the concoction on the stove.

“What are you making anyway?”

“Seaweed soup. I haven’t been able to make you any since…the last birthday we spent together.”

Your body warms deep down to the soles of your feet at this surprise. “My birthday was three months ago.”

He chuckles and turns his head to you, smirking. “Consider it a belated birthday gift then.” He carries on stirring, but continues talking. “Besides, you always liked my soup compared to your mom’s. Too watery, if I remember right.”

You blush and step away from the counter. “Let’s not talk about her or her food.”

Jay’s face turns puzzled. “You’ve always been so bristly when we talk about your family. Your mom is one of the sweetest ladies in town." 

“You don’t get it. You didn’t grow up with her.”

“Hey, at least you have both parents around.”

You slam your hand down on another laminate countertop, growing more frustrated the longer the topic is broached. “Jongseong, please drop it.”

“Why are you getting so upset?” He asks, puzzled and growing alarmingly quiet at your outburst.

“Because you don’t get it! And you never will, okay? So let it go!”

The kitchen suddenly feels too suffocating, the memories of the past and your argument melding together in a way that makes any hunger that you had become a full stomach stuffed with nothing but anger and fear. You run out of the house and back into the rain, knowing if you say anything more, your secrets will fall around you like pellets soaking your skin.

The lanterns fill the sky like a thousand stars, close enough for you to touch before they’re whisked away into the dark clouds above you. Even for your small town, every adult and child knows the end of summer festival is a time to make the last set of wishes and affirmations before autumn comes. If Jay’s father yearned for an easy season, he would buy a lantern to release on a night light tonight, as would your friends’ families who hoped for good health and fortune.

You smile when you manage to catch one, holding on tight despite knowing it’s against tradition. Once one is meant to float away, it was considered rude to stop it from continuing on its path upward.

Jay chuckles and grabs it from you, matching your pout in jest. “Next year, I’ll buy you your own, alright? Don’t be greedy!”

You roll your eyes and watch the lantern rise up and away from your spot on the beach. It shimmers in an amber glow until it slips away into the black sky overhead.

You turn to him, eyes lit up not just from the lantern flames. “Did you wish for anything this year?”

Jay shrugs. “I can’t really wish for anything ‘cause I didn’t get—“

“Don’t give me that! It’s symbolic, anyway. Just tell me,” you whine.

Jay only side-eyes you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You attempt to throw a bundle of sand in his direction, but he sees your upcoming attack the second you raise your arm. He takes your wrist in his hand, the clump disintegrating between your fingers. The two of you laugh as you try to wiggle free from his grasp.

You’re both a tangle of limbs until he finally pins you down on the ground. He hovers above you, panting hard. “I win,” Jay replies, his breathing ragged but eyes still sparkling from a successful takedown.

“You wish.”

In the flicker of lantern lights and midnight stars overhead, Jay can’t help himself from leaning down closer until there’s barely a breath between your lips. He lets every doubt that has lingered over the past fourteen years dissipate and surrenders to the moment, feeling the softness of your mouth as he kisses you.

You could be glowing as bright as the lights still being sent off into the sky. You feel like you are, anyway.

He doesn’t go faster or push you further, the simplicity of the act making you sparkle from within with every ebb and flow of your conjoined lips. The crackle of a firework is what makes the two of you come up for air, unaware of how much time has passed.

 You let the moment hang between you the entire walk home. He holds your hand, squeezing it every now and then, the action more valuable than any words he could say right now. He holds himself back from giving you another kiss to say goodnight, knowing there’s always tomorrow.

Minutes after you make it inside, the scene in front of you turns whatever joy was left from Jay’s presence into acid.

“Can you not do anything right around here? I ask for the simplest things and even that’s too much.” Your father points to the food in his hands with an air of disgust directed at your mother.

He spits his vitriol in her face, the pattern commonplace. The behavior is nothing new, but his eyes show something worse than normal brewing beneath the surface.

“I can fix it,” your mother assures him, trying to take the bowl from him. “I’ll throw out the old batch and—“

“So now you think wasting food is the better choice? Are you stupid?”

The two of them are unaware of your presence, but even if they were, you doubt that would change the downward spiral they were heading towards.

She tries to walk away from him like she always has, diffusing the situation in the only way she knows how, but he drops the bowl on the counter and takes her by the arm.

“You’re not leaving,” he warns. The next moments pass in a blur, each one that plays out making you hover outside of your body, looking down in disbelief. Your mother’s temple hits the wood with a terrible thud. The next second, your body is pressed against your father’s to pull him away, begging, “Daddy, please stop!” 

His upper arm has enough force to jam into your chest and knock you onto the kitchen tile below. Pain reverberates up your tailbone from hitting the floor in a violent bang.

Your mother comes from the daze of her assault to cover your body with her own. It’s a pointless defense, your father’s feet slamming hard on the floor as he walks away and into the bedroom without looking back once.

She apologizes profusely, holding your head in her hands as tears stream down her face without an endpoint. You can barely form a tear yourself, still unsure the past ten minutes happened at all. An hour ago, you had your first kiss, and now…

“Your aunt lives on a coast off the mainland. I can’t let you stay here anymore, my love.”

That moment is when you feel the water form in your eyes. You couldn’t leave now, not with so much left uncertain.

“Promise me you’ll leave this place. Don’t think about this night again and find something better, please.”

That entire night, the waves knocking into each other with the same force as you had encountered hours ago, you feel your heart shatter into a multitude of pieces, each fragment tinier and more painful than the last. The thought of Jay waking up to see you in the morning only to find you erased from his life, robs any chance of you sleeping on the boat ride to Wando.

He’ll try to call and text, for sure. But what could be said that would explain the last twenty four hours without breaking your promise to your mother? How could you live with sharing such intimate details of your household, even with someone as sacred to you as Jay is?

How could you make him believe it wasn’t his fault that you fled without revealing your most vulnerable and harsh reality? After coming so close to the future you always dreamed of with him, what would he think? What would he do?

So, like any coward does, you let the phone ring until your battery dies, not bothering to charge it again until you make it to your aunt’s. You tell yourself he’ll move on and life will be better with you safe and out of the picture. Every beat of your breaking heart may call you a liar, but you’ll learn to twist it into the truth one day.

The next afternoon, sun slowly setting to meet the waves below, you walk towards the lighthouse with the courage your younger self didn’t have the night you ran away. Your heart tosses around in your mouth when you take the first step through the threshold, but now is the last time you fear the truth. If you couldn’t explain the circumstances back then, the least you could do was explain them now.

You take the trek up the steps to the top floor of the lighthouse, every step heavier than the last. Jay stands inside the lantern room cleaning the large bulb at the center of the space. He immediately tenses when you walk through the open door, but he says nothing. He only holds the same somber expression he had the first day you arrived back in Aewol. Only now, so much more rests behind his face that you cannot decipher.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. The words release something you believed couldn’t be separated from your being. Your guilt remains present, but the apology provides a long-held breath of fresh air.

He looks up to meet your gaze, eyebrows furrowing just a touch. The setting sun casts amber shadows across his face, making his confusion breathtaking. Clearly, he’s unsure what exactly you’re apologizing for.

The next words already taste like lead in your mouth, but you can’t hold the weight of them for another second.

Speaking them out loud is what will set you free.

“The night I left, my dad pushed my mom into a cabinet,” you confess. The eight words you just uttered create a well of tears in your eyes, but you keep your voice level and solid. “He had always been…harsh before, not just with her, but that was the first night I ever saw him hurt her with his hands instead of his words.

“I tried to stop it from getting worse, and I fell down—no,” you take a breath, “h-he threw—he threw me down on the floor.” You feel foolish for trying to minimize his actions, knowing there’s no reason to protect him anymore. You lower your head, ashamed. “That was when my mom called my aunt in Wando. She begged me not to say anything, so I kept it a secret. You’re the first person I’ve ever told about it… and about how much of an asshole my father really is.”

You can’t help the way your words crumble on your tongue or the low whimper that erupts from your lips. You had accepted in silence the harsh reality of your father being a violent and cruel human being, but speaking the words aloud is another beast entirely.

You go cold, your figure limp until you feel Jay’s gentle fingers under your chin. They pull your face up to meet his, catching his glassy and red eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

You sniffle. “What would you have done? We were seventeen—“

“Fuck that,” Jay seethes, his face a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “I would’ve killed him then, just like I want to right now.”

You laugh and take his fingers in yours. “I made a promise.” You lock onto his gaze harder, trying to convey every ounce of regret you still feel. “I thought about calling you every day. I’d pick up the phone and didn’t know how to come up with the right words, especially after…”

Jay laughs, passing over the curve of your cheek with his thumb. It’s the rhythmic pattern of his touch that makes you come down from such heightened emotions. It’s always been his superpower, grounding you like this. “If I had known I wouldn’t see you again, I would’ve kissed you until the sun came up.”

You blush, your body flushing with heat. “Nothing’s stopping you now, Jongseong. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He steps forward, the shy boy you grew to love appearing in front of you. The last time you were this close, you both were unsure about most things in life, but not about how much you meant to him, and vice versa.

Now, the feelings he had put on hold for so long take hold of him, his heart a kaleidoscope of pent-up sensations when he finally presses his lips to yours. His mouth is ravenous, his tongue finding yours as his arms clutches onto your body with fervor.

You’re encased in him, all the lost time suddenly found in the spaces of his mouth on yours, your hands on his body, and the moans that leave your mouth. He undoes the buttons of your cardigan with quick ease, taking it off of your shoulders and somewhere in the room you don’t care to remember. You help him pull the sweater over his head to kiss the column of his throat and top of his chest, making him shudder.

You both pause to hurry down to the drawing room below, not wanting to continue on the iron floor next to the bright bulb of the lighthouse. Yes, the cot off to the side of the room is not incredibly comfortable, but you care little about its lack of comfort when Jay lays you down on your back and smothers your body in kisses. He makes a map of your skin until he meets the apex of your thighs, your body highly strung by the time he kisses the center of your legs.

You clutch his hair with both hands and hold tight in the midst of his ministrations, his whispered words of affirmation and the figure-eight patterns of his tongue saying just enough to push you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

He lifts his head from your body to crawl over you, his heart in his mouth as he says the words that have always been in his mind and heart from the second he saw you. “I love you.”

You’re unsure if it’s normal to cry at such a confession or in the midst of your current situation, but regardless, there are no tears of fear or pain. They’re ones that fill the silence between you with what he already knows to be true. But you say the words he needs to hear anyway. “I love you, too, Seongie.”

This is what it feels like to be at home. His body against yours, him sliding so easily inside of you without a word needed for the immense amounts of pleasure that already exists. It could be a handful of minutes or a span of time that carries over into the next morning. All that matters is his lips on your own and his hips meeting yours with every thrust.

And in between every movement, he has to remind you how much he loves you. His words and feelings are already embossed into your heart, but it’s nice to hear the breathless cadence of his voice. “I love you so much,” he groans, his end close with the sudden stutters of his body.

You fall off the cliffside together, your bodies in sync in the best possible way as your eyes see the stars from the very first night you kissed in the back of your eyelids. And when he has his hands in your hair, his touch lulling you to sleep, you wonder why it took you this long to come back to the one person who has always been the safest space in your world.

The two of you stay nestled in the thin blanket, Jay’s body your source of warmth in the small drawing room of the lighthouse. The cot barely holds your bodies, but with you both squeezing together and not wanting to let go, you make it work.

Jay takes stray hairs from your face to tuck behind your ears. “I can’t believe you didn’t know how bad my crush was until the festival.”

You giggle into his chest. “I wasn’t paying attention to boys back then! How would I have known?” You hold his gaze, suddenly vulnerable.

He chuckles. “I think I was pretty obvious.”

“To everyone but me, I guess,” you joke. “Besides, I think I always knew I’d end up with you, strangely.”

“That’s not strange, not at all.” He kisses you tenderly, nipping your lips until you laugh into his mouth. “Perfect. At least to me.”

“Same,” you agree. “I’ve never felt more at home than when I’m with you.”

Jay responds by holding you tighter between his arms. He kisses the top of your head before whispering, “So where do we go from here?”

The answer is simple, but that doesn’t make it any easier to face.

Jay looks deeply into your eyes and senses the words you cannot say, and the strength of his stare and his arms as your protective walls from all the harm that still exists in this world gives you the power to confront what you need to.

That afternoon, leaving Jay in the lighthouse with your heart fully in his possession, you know you have to face the demons that wait for you in your childhood home. If you are to have a future together, the first thing you have to do is make peace with the past.

A handwritten note on the fridge tells you your mother went out for groceries, giving you the perfect excuse to release the words that would end your terror once and for all.

You enter your parents’ room to see your father, unmoved from the spot you saw him in on the first day you were back home. Your mother pleaded for you to check in every now and then now that you were back, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not until now.

You move the chair by his bedside out to sit down. When you finally face him again, you take note of the details you were too blinded by indifference to notice before. You observe the wrinkles on his forehead, the sunken divots under his eyes, the age lines surrounding his mouth, the frailness of his body.

The weight he’s lost since his accident makes all his features stand out more. All that he’s lost, but has also always been, is on full display now: this husk of a man without the venomous words and bravado to hide behind is truly nothing to be scared of anymore.

 “You’re so much smaller than I realized.” You say it with a breath of relief, any fear or anger that was left behind for him in your soul replaced with pity. You can walk away without regrets or words you wish you could’ve said, because you know now it’s a waste of your peace. Maybe one day, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive, even. Not today, but someday.

You walk away with no grievances left, back in the direction of the lighthouse with a new purpose and ready to take the path you were always meant to. Back to the home you’ve always had resting inside of the one you love.

Jay stands with his back facing you, staring off into the expanse of sea in front of him. His shoulders ease as you step closer.

“You’re back,” he says with saccharine happiness. He takes your hand in his and presses your fingers to his lips.

“I am,” you respond. You kiss him with your whole soul, incredibly in love and unafraid of what will come next.

“Babe! The new issue is here!”

You open your eyes to the sound of Jay’s words. You could barely doze off when he was so excited to grab the mail this morning. It was only delivered a few minutes ago, but of course he has to check for the newest spread of Otherworldly in your mailbox. To his happiness and your shy pride, your name’s plastered in almost every section of the photography credits.

Convincing your boss to let you work for the magazine from your hometown turned out to be easier than expected. With his happiness from your newfound inspiration, it seemed like you could take pictures of algae for all he cared and it would be a hit in the magazine’s eyes.

You weren’t the only one who could take credit, though. Jay’s name was also included in some of the photos, his insight into Aewol’s cuisine and new sous chef position at Park & Co providing more than enough influence for your photography. The lighthouse would always be his priority (aside from you), but his second love of food could not be kept at bay any longer.

He opens the magazine to the first page that features your photos, the centerfold being of Jay’s original recipe for hoedeopbap. “It looks even better in print,” Jay says, his face three shades brighter staring at the meal.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his middle, peeking your head out from the side of his shoulder to look at the pages. “It’s really good, isn’t it?”

“Some of the best you’ve ever done.” He turns in your hold to press your chest to his, kissing your forehead in the process. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“Actually, getting lucky is how we got this.” You take his hand and rest it on the curve of your stomach, fifteen weeks peaking out from under the midriff of your tank top.

He laughs and presses his lips to your cheek. “I love you.”

To your surprise, peace was easier to find than you had expected. Confronting what you ran away from all those years ago feels like a distant memory, the pain of the past a part of another reality. There are no monsters that creep in the shadows or secrets to keep locked behind closed doors.

All that remains is the ease that comes from a life filled with nothing but love and happiness, as weightless and freeing as a lantern floating through the sky.

“I love you too, Park Jongseong.”

@junekissed (thank for beta-ing also june!! ilysm) @yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[bequiteanddriveeeeeee]

Hi my name is Kennedy and my older therapest tried to kidnap me. She would ask me questions about my body like “what do you wear at the beach” then when i would say a long sleeve swim shirt and longer trunks she’d say “well some people find that sexier because they can imagine what’s underneath that” then asked me to go on her boat. At the time I was 15 and she would tell people I was 19 and wanted to fake my identity to have me run away to another state with her. I only saw her about 8 times and she told me she loved me and how i was perfect and i needed a mommy, that my mom was terrible and I was the perfect one. She tried to get me to dress like a girl for her because I’d be such a cute feminine boy, and would take me on coffee dates with her even though it was just a ‘sit in her office and talk’ kind of therapy. She would tell me about her nudism and how i would have to get used to it when we ran away among her use of psychoactive drugs for sex within our first two sessions. Among SO many other things, eventually I told my parents and they stopped me from seeing her which she blew up their phones and tried to get CPS and a wellness check involved and I have a video of her screaming and crying over the phone that she loved me so much and needed me right now and I didn’t think it was like actually bad for awhile because I am a 43 year old fictive and have a hard time with my age dynamic. I took me to after that it wasn’t just creepy, she was in fact a pedophile

I brought the uh just blue bag of sour patch kids

Hi I'm Valerie and once I dated a guy who I had a crush on for about six years and after our break up he told me he only was with me because I'm easy to manipulate

And I brought Haribo gummies

(trauma candy salad, please continue or else I'll die from embarrassment)

[schemmentigfs]

can i request a fluff one shot where reader has to go on a trip (either for work or family reasons) and melissa meets them at the airport when they arrive back and is just super domestic once back at their shared apartment 🥺🥺

In the Quiet of Absence.

Summary: After spending a month in Paris for a work conference, you finds yourself longing for the warmth of home and, more than anything, for Melissa.

Tags: @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota <3

You sink into the plush hotel bed, a sigh escaping your lips as you look out at the city lights glimmering against the Parisian skyline. It’s breathtaking—no doubt about that—but after almost a month, even the magic of Paris can't dull the ache you feel right now.

“God, I miss her so much…” you mutter to yourself, rubbing your temple as you glance around the luxurious room.

Your right hand drifts to the nightstand, fingers brushing over your phone. Without thinking, you pick it up, your thumb tracing over Melissa’s name. You can picture her asleep back home, curled up in bed, her auburn hair spilling across the pillow, maybe even with little Sweet Cheeks nestled at her chest. The thought brings a goofy but genuine grin to your lips as you press ‘record voicemail.’

With the phone cradled in your hand, you start speaking quietly, as if she could somehow hear you through the miles of the ocean.

“Good night, Lis. I know you won’t see this until morning since you’re probably fast asleep right now. Paris is... well, it’s Paris. Beautiful, busy, a little overwhelming. Everyone says how lucky I am to be here, but honestly, it just makes me miss you more. I walked by a café today, and I kept thinking how nice it would be to sit there with you, sipping coffee, people-watching, maybe listening to you rant about the tourists. It’s just not the same without you here to share it with.”

Sighing softly, you add. “I spent the day at the conference, and honestly, I found myself daydreaming about our couch and Sweet Cheeks curled up between us. I wish you could’ve seen the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower. You would’ve loved it. I tried to take some pictures, but they just don’t do it justice.”

As you keep talking about the conference through voicemail, the people you’ve met, and the places you’ve seen, you can’t help but let your thoughts drift to home.

Home.

It’s hard being so far from home, but even harder being far from her. Paris might be beautiful, a dream city for most, but without Melissa next to you, it feels empty, just walls and skies. You’d flown here for work, a month-long conference that was supposed to be exhilarating, a stepping stone in your writing career. And while there’s been value in it, each day is a little heavier than the last. Every stroll past the Eiffel Tower, every quiet hotel room evening, only reminds you of how much you miss the life you share with her.

You’d never imagined how hard it would be to be apart from her. Sure, you two had spent nights apart before, but a whole month? It was almost unbearable. You miss everything about her—her laugh, the way she fills the room with her warm, unfiltered energy, and the little things she does just to make you smile. It’s like there's a part of you that just isn't here, and every day, that longing grows heavier.

Everything here felt too polished, too perfect. You missed the little imperfections that made life with the second grade teacher so damn beautiful. How Melissa would wrap her arms around you in the mornings, still groggy from sleep. Her face when she’d forget where she put her reading glasses only for you to find them perched on her head, or the way she’d tease over making the perfect cup of coffee each morning. The way she would immediately fuss over your packing, making sure you had everything you needed, and the soft hum of her voice as she reassured you that everything would be just fine while you were away.

Home was with Melissa Schemmenti, and every part of you ached to be there.

Your girlfriend’s voice on the phone helps – her late-night calls about what went wrong at Abbott Elementary that day, the accent you love laced with the warmth of home. “Mon amour,” you’d whisper into the phone during one of your daily conversations, a term of endearment that wraps around both your hearts, even across the miles. But her voice isn’t enough, not when you’re used to seeing her every night, sharing meals, her touch grounding you in a way nothing else can.

With a gruff, you close your laptop, packing away notes you’d barely read. That’s when you hear the knock on your door, breaking the silence.

“Bonsoir, madame,” one of the hotel staff says politely when you respond. “Dinner is ready downstairs in the lobby.”

“Merci, je serai là dans cinq minutes.” Your answer is quick, almost robotic. Despite enjoying the culinary wonders of the place, you can’t help but prefer the meals of a specific redhead who knows everything about cooking and Italian cuisine.

“Pas étonnant, si vous avez besoin d’autre chose, nous sommes à votre disposition.”

You thank them with a smile, but you’re already glancing at your phone, at the time difference that keeps you apart, counting down the days – just three more – until you’re back in her arms.

Back at the bedroom, after finishing dinner, you’re restless. As much as the meal was filling, your thoughts are back at home with her. You finish up the small dessert in your room, the excitement building to be back in her arms, in the life you’ve built together. The night stretches on, a quiet contrast to the bustling city outside, and your sleep feels even further away.

You slip beneath the covers, staring at the ceiling as the quiet surrounds you. Sleep eludes you as memories of the older woman flood your mind—her lavender smell, the comfort of her presence. Everything.

“Just three more days,” you repeated the phrase, over and over again. Feeling like a mantra.

Closing your eyes, the loneliness is creeping in again, but the thought of returning keeps you anchored, making the distance feel just a little bit smaller.

It won’t be long now.

Back in Philadelphia, Melissa is dealing with her own form of aching loneliness. She’d thought she could handle a month without you; after all, she’d done it before. But the days had dragged on longer than expected, and each night without you next to her was another reminder of how deeply entwined you both were.

The redhead’s days are packed with the usual chaos at Abbott Elementary, but somehow it doesn’t quite fill the space you left behind. She comes home to an empty apartment that feels colder without the warmth of your laughter echoing through it. Sweet Cheeks, her classroom guinea pig, has become an unlikely companion, curled up in a little cage by her couch. She started bringing him home on weekends, claiming it was to keep the kids excited for Monday mornings. But if she were being honest with herself, she liked the company—even if it was just a ball of fur and squeaks. Sweet Cheeks always listened to her rants about the day, his tiny, twitching nose and big eyes a small comfort in your absence.

She talks to him about you sometimes, about the things she knows you’re seeing in Paris. “She’s probably at some fancy shit right now, buddy,” she mutters, throwing him a piece of lettuce as she leans back on the couch. “Probably complaining about how boring those rich dumbasses are.”

Melissa had never really considered herself to be sentimental. She was tough, independent, and good at taking care of herself. But after so many years of you two being together, this past month had taught her just how much you’d become her home. She finds herself missing the little things—your goodnight kisses, the way you leave your books stacked messily by the bed, the warmth of your hand reaching for hers whenever you pass each other in the kitchen.

She sighs and reaches for her phone, scrolling through your photos, lingering on the ones you’ve sent her from Paris. There’s one of you smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower, looking radiant with the city’s lights sparkling behind you. She can’t help but smile, even if her chest aches. “God, you’re beautiful,” she whispers, running a thumb over the screen. The animal lets out a small squeak, almost as if he’s in agreement, and she chuckles. “Yeah, champ. I’m the luckiest gal in Philly, huh?”

Her phone buzzes with a voicemail notification, and her heart jumps a little. It’s your voice, soft and intimate, filling the quiet of her apartment as you talk about your day. You talk about the conference, the view from the Eiffel Tower, and how much you wish she were there. The familiar sound of your voice brings an ache to her chest, but it also fills her with a sense of peace.

She presses the phone close to her heart once your message ends, letting out a shaky sigh. “Just three more days,” she says to herself, mirroring your own anxiety. She settles back into the couch, Sweet Cheeks nestled beside her, as she listens to your message one more time, the sound of your voice helping her feel just a little closer to you.

The nights for your girlfriend are the hardest. She lies awake, staring at the ceiling, longing for the warmth of your body beside her. Sometimes, she’ll grab the spare pillow, pulling it close to her chest as if it could somehow substitute for your presence. She buries her face into it, breathing deeply, as if she can still catch a faint trace of your scent.

She’s tough, but she’s not ashamed to admit that she’s counting down the hours until you come back.

When Saturday morning rolls around, Melissa stands by the sink, her sleeves pushed up, humming a soft tune as she washes the breakfast dishes. Sunlight filters gently through the curtains, casting a cozy glow over the kitchen and giving her that familiar sense of home she craves more than anything right now. Sweet Cheeks squeaks from his spot on the counter, and she reaches over, giving him a gentle scratch.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Mama will be back soon, okay?”

Just as the green eyed woman was about to finish the last dish, her phone rang. Seeing your name, Her heart skipped, her fingers fumbling with the dish towel as she hurriedly picked up.

“Hey, amore mio,” she greeted, her voice soft and warm, as if she hadn’t heard from you in months, though it had only been a few days.

“Hey, Lissa! Guess what?” you said, excitement bubbling through the phone.

She grinned, already thrilled just hearing your voice. “What? Tell me!”

“I’ll be back tomorrow!”

Melissa let out a little laugh, caught between disbelief and pure joy. “Shit, really? Tomorrow? I missed you so much!” The words escaped her before she could hold back. She looked down, feeling a bit silly for how much she’d let herself miss you.

Sweet Cheeks, catching onto her excitement, squeaked louder at his feet, little paws tapping against the kitchen counter as though to join in. “See, even Sweet Cheeks missed you,” your girlfriend joked. “I think he’s been going nuts without his other mama.”

You laughed on the other end, and Melissa felt warmth spread through her. She didn’t want to admit it outright, but it had been a long, lonely few days without you, the routine things—the cooking, the tidying, even sitting on the couch—felt empty without you there.

“Well, you just hold tight. Tomorrow, we’ll make up for lost time,” you replied, and she could practically feel your smile through the call.

“That’s perfect. Love you, hon.”

“Love you more.”

After you hung up, Melissa wandered to the bedroom, feeling a deep swell of emotions, her fingers brushing over her pocket where a small, carefully hidden velvet box lay. She’d been carrying it around for days, checking it repeatedly, rehearsing the words she wanted to say once you were home again. The plan was all there—she’d wait for a quiet Sunday morning, like the ones she cherished so much, and then she’d ask.

Unable to resist, she pulled one of your shirts from the closet, bringing it close to her nose. The faint scent of you clung to it, bringing her right back to those lazy Sunday mornings that had become her favorite part of your life together.

She let herself imagine it: you, padding out of bed with only your underwear on, your hair a mess and your eyes still heavy with sleep as you’d pull her into a hug from behind. Every time, she’d grumble a bit, pretending she wasn’t as soft as she actually felt in those moments. You’d tug her back into bed with you, insisting on snuggling under the covers while she made her usual complaints about wanting to get up and start the day.

But truthfully, she loved being wrapped up in your arms as the little spoon. She felt a rare kind of safety there, the weight of your arms around her, the warmth of your chest against her back. She’d pretend to make a bad face, grumbling softly, but she’d inevitably relax, letting out the soft snores you always teased her about later.

And then, just when everything felt perfectly peaceful, Sweet Cheeks would start squeaking from the foot of the bed, weaving around your legs in hopes of an early morning cuddle.

Melissa smiled to herself, clutching the shirt close as she pictured the day ahead, wondering how you’d react when you saw her there, waiting to welcome you home—and how your face would look when she finally asked the question she’d been holding in her heart.

The next day, after what felt like an eternity, she drove to the airport, her heart racing with every step. When she finally spotted you through the crowd, her heart just about burst. She didn’t hold back, rushing over and pulling you into a tight hug, her face buried in your shoulder.

“I missed you so much.”

You held her just as tightly, murmuring, “Missed you too, Mel. So, so much.”

As you made your way back to the apartment, your laughter filled the car, and Melissa soaked in every second of it, feeling like the pieces of her world had finally fallen back into place.

Once home, she proudly led you to the kitchen, where she had your favorite meal prepared and ready, the smell of marinara sauce filling the space. Sweet Cheeks squeaked in delight at the sight of you, and you scooped him up, letting him nuzzle against you in greeting.

After dinner, you settled on the couch together, wrapped up in each other, your sweet guinea pig resting contentedly in his popsicle stick home nearby. The redhead leaned into you, her heart racing again as she reached into her pocket, fingers brushing over the small box.

She took a deep breath, turning to you with all the love she’d been waiting to share. “I know it’s just us, and this fella,” she said softly, glancing down with a shy smile. “But… I couldn’t imagine my life without you. So, I was thinking, maybe… we could make this forever?”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti, what are you doing?” you gasp confused, while blinking.

She cleared her thoart and kneeled down. “Y/N. Will you marry me?”

Your eyes widened as she pulled out the box, revealing the ring she’d been carrying. In that moment, with tears in your eyes, you nodded, pulling her close in an embrace filled with all the quiet love and warmth that had defined your life together.

And as the night wore on, Melissa held you close, feeling finally, deeply at home.

[webanglikethat]

to every single queer person out there—trans, gay, bi, pan, ace, nonbinary, however you identify—let me just say this: I am so, so fucking sorry. SO, SO, SO FUCKING SORRY. I am furious. I’m pissed off beyond words. english seems like a forgotten skill as I'm typing this. I am so sorry.

we never deserved this. we never fucking deserved this.

I am sorry that you’ve been betrayed like this, that we’ve all been betrayed like this. I’m sorry that SO MANY of our damn votes weren’t counted, like we don’t even matter. like we’re just numbers on a page that they can toss out without a thought. like we can just be erased, as if we do not exist, like we’re puzzle pieces that don’t fit into their perfect picture, so they just throw us out, discarded, like we were never there in the first place. I’m sorry she just conceded, just gave up. left us hanging. just handed us over like we’re some afterthought, like we’re collateral damage in this disgusting twisted fucking game. as if our lives, our rights, everything we fought for, meant nothing. she just rolled over and let us get steamrolled, like we’re just noise, just numbers on a page, just nothing worth fighting for. do they even care that real people, people who trusted her, who put their hopes in her, are being crushed by this? and not only in the US. we ALL believed in her. and ... she ... just ... she was gone. just like that. and we’re the ones who have to pay the price. we’re the ones left with our futures on the line, wondering what rights we’ll have tomorrow, if we’ll even be safe tomorrow. and she just… gave it all up. handed us over to people who are hell-bent on erasing us, who’ve been clear from day one about what they think of us, what they want to take away. how do we even make sense of that? how do we believe in ANYONE? how can you abandon us in the lion's den and yet demand compassion and trust? to trust in the very hands that have left us to bleed, to burn, to fight alone?

we deserve better. we deserved someone who would stand with us when it mattered, who wouldn’t just throw in the towel and walk away when things got tough. we’re not just collateral. we’re not disposable. we’re human beings with lives, with love, with the right to exist without fear. we aren't statistics, diagrams, names forgotten on a wall. we are queer, and we are real. and she ... just left us to face down a nightmare she knows damn well is coming. so how dare they tell us to “keep faith” when they’ve shown us that our lives were never worth the fight to them. we needed someone who would dig in and say, “no, you can’t have them. not now, not ever.” and instead? we were left out in the cold to fend for ourselves. like always. like fucking always. and this isn’t just some political setback for us. this is our lives, our right to exist. we’ve fought and bled and stood through hell just to claim an inch of ground to live openly, to love who we love, and to be who we are. we deserved so much more than empty promises. and we won’t forget this.

right now, it feels like every warning, every fear we’ve had has come to life in the worst way. and let’s be real—what’s next is terrifying. I will not sugarcoat it. rights are going to be stripped away, our existence denied, our safety threatened. trump hasn’t hidden it; he’s promised it. this was supposed to be our home too. but they’re pushing us out, forcing us to hide. so please, if you need to, go back into the closet. change states if that’s what it takes. hell, think about leaving the country if you can, because it’s becoming clear that staying might mean risking everything. you do not owe anyone anything, just think of yourself first. you are your own priority.

and god .. Love. Love—something so pure, something so simple—has been twisted into a reason for others to hate us, to fear us, to hurt us. we were never supposed to be the ones people saw as a “threat.” that label should belong to hatred, to racism, to homophobia, to everything that has poisoned this world. but instead, somehow we are the ones they call dangerous. we are the ones they want to erase. and it’s maddening. what kind of world are we living in, where the fight to just exist is an endless battle? was it not love that led Eve to take that fateful bite, trusting in the bond she shared with Adam? and if love is the foundation upon which humanity was built, how can we be faulted for following its lead? of all the things we could hate, and we chose love.

if this moment feels like it’s too much, if it feels like everything you’ve fought for, every piece of yourself you’ve worked to own, every right, every dream, every bit of safety is collapsing around you -- I get it. I feel it in my bones. it feels like drowning, like being swallowed whole by a storm that never ends. the shore seems so far away. but listen to me: don’t you fucking dare let them break you. don’t let them get that satisfaction. don’t give them that power. we are not here to let monsters erase us. we’re here to outlast every single one of them. we’re here to survive and thrive. we are queer, we are real, we exist, we will continue to exist.

their power, their hatred, their cruelty—it won’t last forever. I know it's difficult to see the light at the end of this tunnel. but they are the ones who don’t belong in a world built on compassion, on love, on freedom. You are the real thing. You are here. You deserve to be here, and you deserve to feel safe, loved, and free.

if you’re feeling like there’s no point anymore, if this all feels like it’s too damn much to take, please just hang on. this fight is brutal, and sometimes it feels like it never ends. but I’m begging you—don’t give up. don’t let them have that final victory. don’t let them silence your voice, your light, your life. scream, cry, punch walls, call someone, reach out, hold on to whatever will keep you here another day, another hour. do whatever you have to do to survive this moment. because you’re needed. we need you. the world needs you.

you might not see it now, but you are a part of something big, something powerful, something they wish they could destroy but never will. you’re part of a legacy of resilience, of love, of defiance against hatred. every queer person, every person who has ever had to stand up against a world that told them they shouldn’t exist, that they should be crucified, erased, beaten up, has carried that legacy forward, passed it down so we could be here. so you could be here. and they did not survive all they did, did not fight, did not sacrifice so much just for us to lose hope. we’re still here because others fought and held on. now, it’s our turn. we owe it to them, to ourselves, to hold on with everything we have, to fight with everything in us.

and one day, I promise you, I truly pinkie promise you, that you’re going to wake up in a world that has moved beyond these hateful voices. one day, you will wake up in a world that sees you, that values you, where you don’t have to fight just to exist. you deserve to live in it, to walk in the sunlight without fear, without shame. they don’t get to take that from you. they don’t get to erase you. they don’t get to win.

this moment is hard. it’s beyond hard. but you, every single one of you, are worth it. you are not alone in this fight. you are surrounded by countless others who feel this too, who know this pain, who are holding on right alongside you.

so please, hold on. you belong, and nothing they do can change that. they cannot snuff out your light. they cannot erase your legacy. they cannot undo the love you were born to spread.

stay. fight like hell. be louder, be prouder, be everything they tell you not to be. because you are worth every ounce of this battle. and we will see the day they’re gone. we will make it through.

we too shall rise from the ashes.

to my queer family, my phoenix.

[vrystalius]

Yo! Hello its me again! Could i please request like a reverse isekai where the kny characters end up in reader's house? And maybe she is like Mad rich but like.. Not a spoiled brat she likes to do charity and make money for herself and maybe she is living with her cousins, she is smark but can be stupid (if you know what i mean) i don't know, you can do whatever you want, (there is not enough reverse isekai fanfictions😭), anyhow, hope you have a good day and you didn't get sick of my (a lot) requests😁🫶🏻👋🏻

Hashira getting reverse isekai’d

Your favourite hashira suddenly appeared inside your home! How will they react to your home and the modern world?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He will not adjust to this change quietly— he is ready to destroy and slice every single piece of tech that decides to randomly beep or talk to him. You once found Sanemi trying to get his katana out of your ceiling after throwing it with full force against your smoke detector, after it beeped to remind you to change battery. It scared the shit out of him, so he put an end to that thing. Often times when using your phone, Sanemi accidentally activates Siri. He first thought that a demon was speaking through the phone with some kind of blood demon art, then, after explaining to him what exactly Siri is and what she does, he just begins cursing her and cussing her out every time she activates on him. You once had to remind him not to grip it so tightly, or else your screen might crack.

A thing he really, really likes about your modern home though is your bathroom. The shower, the large mirror, sink, toilet… just everything about it. The first time he stepped into your shower and closed the glass door behind himself, Sanemi was first confused about the shower settings. He turned every knob that is able to be turned, both cooking himself alive and dodging the water in fear of freezing, achieving both of these things in one shower. Once he finally found the perfect temperature, it was time to test all of the products you have, and not sparingly. Shampoo, conditioner, hair masks, shower gel, body scrub and whatever else he could get his fingers on— once he got out of the shower and returned to you, his smell was almost overwhelming, but at least you know now that his har is somehow able to look even better than before.

After a long adjustment period, you sometimes catch Sanemi watching the TV. He made himself comfortable in a corner of your couch, cuddled up in heated blankets (he learned how to use the settings all by himself!) and watching one movie after another. He’s quite the binge-watcher apparently, watching one action movie after another for hours on end. At the end of such day, he’ll complain about his eyes burning up without having any idea how that happened.

“Hey, wanna join me? Blanket s’ warm and I found a movie about some weird metal things moving really, really fast and guys kicking each other’s asses— Huh? Cars? Are those these fast carriages sliding around on there?”

Kyojuro Rengoku

He is incredibly curious about every single thing and would try to understand how everything works. Kyojuro would inspect your microwave and press every button their is, watching the pizza pocket he threw into there react to the different settings and then grieving about how the once weird snacks he wanted to try turned into a piece of burnt remains. Despite being the most comfortable with the traditional meals he used to eat, Kyojuro would love to try any dish you even mentioned by name once! Since you can get your food delivered to your front door, Kyojuro can try as many different cultural dishes as he can get his hands on! Or as many as you can get delivered to tour home. Ordering food is something he always gets very excited about, like what do you mean you can order all kinds of cultural food in a matter of minutes? How do the restaurants have all the ingredients available and are always ready to serve customers? And why do you refuse to order a so-called Happy Meal for him? Isn’t it supposed to make one happy?

Another thing Kyojuro is very excited about is the gym. He accidentally stumbled upon a fitness center after returning from buying groceries, staring at the people training inside with those weird machines. The hashira spotted a couple of people build broader and stronger than him, making him realise that this may be some kind of modern training ground. He begged on his hands and knees for a membership so he can explore all these new machines and weight excursuses. Once Kyojuro got inside, he was like a child in a candyshop. He spend the whole day testing out every machine, noting his own limits and setting goals on how to get even stronger. Despite no demons terrorising your world, he still wants to keep his muscles and gain strength to offer nice pillows you can lay your head on and also have the ability to open sealed jars for you without struggling.

“Can we order sweet potato tonight? I miss eating it, and it’s my comfort dish…. Also, I believe I may have started to develop homesickness. I miss my brother the most, though… Not that I don’t like it here, I love it! I just miss my father and brother, that’s all.”

Giyu Tomioka

Staying true to his nature, Giyu would be silent and awkward in this new space. He’s scared of offending you in any way but simply taking his haori off or sitting down onto your couch since he has no idea about the manners and behaviours expected from him in this world, but at the same time doesn’t bother to ask you in order to not burden you in any way. So, he quietly followed you around the house in and inspect your furniture and decorations, sometimes curiously picking something up and inspecting its function. His favourite object so far is a rubix cube he found on your desk. You caught him turn the sides, trying to understand what the point of this thing is. Does it have something on the inside? Why are the colours all scrambled up? While watching his irritation grow because of not being able to sort the colours, you suggested that Giyu can keep it and try to solve it after giving him a small briefing on what the point of the cube is. Thanking you, he kept the rubix cube on his body to play around with it whenever he has time. He is seriously invested in it and really wants to solve it in order to prove to himself that he can solve a complex puzzle and to maybe even impress you a little.

Also, you discovered that Giyu likes noise-canceling headphones, music and e-books. You often find him cuddled up together on your sofa, his face illuminated by your Ipad in his hands. You could hear the faint sounds of soft and slow music from the headphones he was wearing. He looks incredibly invested in whatever he is reading, so you snuck up on him and glanced over his shoulder, reading a couple of lines. It wasn’t a fantasy story or a random novel like you thought, but Giyu was actually reading an article about the behaviour of cats. Adorable, you thought, so you left him be and went on with your day. The water hashira eyed your form as you left, sneakily switching tabs and returning to what he was actually reading: a fluffy romance novel. He looks over his shoulder twice, thrice, checking if you are still near before feeling comfortable enough to continue his reading in peace.

“Can I borrow your.. headphones? They’re called headphones, right? Yes, I’d like to borrow them again. I want to use them to have more silence, you are being very loud and I wanted to read something.”

💠

You never bother me with your requests! They are always so fun to write for!! Also, I hope it’s okay I kind of “simplified” your request— I hope you enjoyed this anyway. Also, I didn’t include Gyomei because I was unsure of what exactly to write for him, but I may update this tomorrow and a small scenario for him <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[skyyclan]

➸☁️ "I learned that hunger is a symptom Of adopting bad behavior I bit my tongue last night Woke up with blood on my pillow I woke up thirsty

Words make less sense to me these days Faces look flat and unfamiliar Do you wanna rest forever? Underwater, it gets better When I get better, I'll treat you like I used to I'll do the things you want me to" ☁️ - Horseshoe Crab by Slothrust

LAMBHORN Born a proud and true Cloudclan warrior, she grew up outperforming her peers by a wide margin. She was talented and dedicated, someone to be used as an example of the best of the best. Everything in her life revolved around living up to this image that she projected, or rather, what was projected onto her. At first, it was exciting being the cat seen as perfect, but with all good things came plenty of bad.

After earning her warrior name, she was quick to rise in popularity in many ways, her attention was sought after like nothing else. Over time, she grew tired, but pushed through. Becoming a mentor, falling in love, competing for deputyship, but ending with raising a family. One by one, she gained cats that she truly loved and trusted and who loved and trusted her for who she really was.

And one by one, she lost them all. Her apprentice, dying on their graduating night. Her mate, exiled for being a traitor and shattering her trust. Her children never making it to their own apprenticeships.

All of her work, her pride, and achievements all shattered in front of her within mere moons. Now a shadow of her former self, she struggles from day to day to just exist. She carries on for them all, not for herself. Its so easy to blame those around her for all of the tragedy in her life, and its even easier to lash out when a helping hand is reached towards her. Its so hard to move on. She would also make a very interesting leader, especially with the idea of having to exile her made for treason, but she's perfect as a warrior too in my heart

(Other songs I had in mind were: Does the Swallow Dream of Flying by Cosmo Sheldrake, Hand over Hand by Roland Faunte, Make the Grade by Jack Conte)

JOIN MY DESIGN CONTEST NOW!! 5 PLACES WITH AWARDS!

The idea is simple, you must design a cat for Breezeclan's rival clan: Cloudclan! You can ping me or reblog this post with the design and that's it! The contest doesn't have a deadline for now and it's an entry for person.

Places:

1° - Any of my comms + chibi + $20 (USD)

2° - Any of my comms + chibi

3° - Fullbody

4° n 5° - Chibi

Info about Cloudclan: They are located in a forest near the Breezeclan fields, because they are more accustomed to the shade rather than direct sunlight they generally have more fur and they have the ability to climb trees that has been mastered over the years. As for their personality, they are extremely arrogant and think they are superior to Breezeclan, usually fighting over anything, they have a better relationship with loners and horrible relationship with kittypet just like Breezeclan

Extra: All the ranks (leader, deputy, healer, guards, warriors, caretakers, apprentices and kits) are open for a try! Also feel free to give em' a personality and traits if you want.

[libby-for-life]

A trade I did with @sir-tater-of-the-tot

I hope you all like it! These are humans with animal-like attributes but I will refer to everyone as animals.

The Rabbit and The Wolf

Adam prowled through the dense, shadowy woods, each step careful and deliberate as he searched for his next meal. The underbrush was thick with brambles and fallen leaves, damp from the night's rain, and the air was heavy with the earthy scent of moss and decay. Being homeless was a harsh reality, especially for a wolf like him. The other creatures of the forest kept their distance, wary of his hungry eyes and ragged coat, leaving him with little company and fewer options for sustenance.

With the sun hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows through the trees, Adam moved stealthily along the winding path. He had learned to rely on a dark instinct—an understanding of which way the unsuspecting travelers might wander. His stomach growled as he recalled the taste of warm flesh, and a flicker of determination ignited within him. He had discovered that overtaking those who strayed too close to the edge of the woods was a plausible strategy; plucking them off the road and dragging them back to his hidden den.

As he licked his jaws, a primal hunger surged through him, the thought of the feast that awaited spurring him on. In the depths of his lair, the dim light filtering through the trees would reveal shadows and flickering movements, reminders of the life he had been forced to abandon. But for now, all that mattered was the hunt. He inhaled deeply, letting the scents of the forest fill his nostrils, ready to seize the opportunity that might come his way.

Adam considered himself fortunate that day. As he stealthily moved through the dense underbrush of the ancient forest, he spotted a solitary figure making its way along a narrow, winding path. This trail, flanked by towering trees with their leaves whispering in the gentle breeze, wasn’t frequented too often. If it were, the forest's inhabitants would start to notice the abrupt absence of their fellow creatures.

The figure drawing closer was a deer, its graceful silhouette framed by the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The deer moved fast, its delicate hooves barely making a sound on the leaf-strewn ground. To Adam, a starving wolf prowling just a short distance away, this unsuspecting mailman of the forest seemed like a perfect meal, the kind of opportunity that didn’t present itself every day. His heart raced with the prospect as he calculated his next move, the thrill of the hunt igniting his primal instincts.

It didn't take long for him to hunt the creature down and drag his bloody form to eat. Most animals had outgrown this way of life. Eating other animals and such was considered barbaric in polite society. Adam never claimed to be polite. Besides, he wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for the fact that everyone despised wolves of any kind.

Adam sighed happily, chewing on a bone as he looked through the mail. He opened all of them, browsing for potential meals. Most were just bills and unimportant stuff. But, there was a letter that was addressed to someone named Lilith.

The wolf was aware of a particular creature known as Lilith. She resided in a quaint cottage nestled among towering trees, their branches intertwining to create a natural canopy that filtered sunlight into delicate patterns on the forest floor. Lilith was unlike any other; she possessed a wild spirit and a deep understanding of the untamed world around her.

Adam had learned to respect her solitude. Being a wolf as well, he felt a kinship with Lilith, knowing all too well the challenges and struggles of life in the wilderness. They shared an unspoken agreement to maintain distance, aware that it was often wiser to let each other be. Their lives intersected only in the fleeting moments when their paths brushed against one another, a silent acknowledgment of their shared existence.

Well, she was writing to someone named Lucifer. Adam's interest was high and they decided to open it.

Reading the letter was a bit boring and full of flattery and flowery words that made Adam's nose wrinkle. It then hit Adam that Lilith was once again pulling a con. He was used to her ways of seducing other animals through letters, getting them to come to her house before devouring them.

Adam happened to know that Lilith would be gone for a couple of weeks. The letter said he would be visiting tomorrow. Adam smirked and knew how to get his next meal. Lilith wouldn't ever have to know that he was near her domain, and he would be able to get an easy meal. With that set in mind, he left the bones of his meal to mix with the elements. No one would find him here and even if they did, Adam would be long gone.

XxX

Adam tracked the path to Lilith's secluded cottage with surprising ease, guided by the faint trail that wound through the dense underbrush. His muscles ached with fatigue, each step feeling heavier than the last, but the thought of reaching his destination ignited a spark of determination within him. The cottage, nestled among towering trees, promised the comfort of warmth and nourishment—something he had been yearning for during his long, arduous journey.

As he approached the weathered wooden door, a sly grin crept across his face, anticipation swirling in his stomach like a hungry beast. Tonight, he would lay in wait for Lilith’s elusive pen pal, his instincts sharpened and senses heightened. The air was thick with the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves, amplifying his primal hunger.

Adam took a deep breath to steady himself, feeling the coarse bristles of his jaw lock tight with eagerness as he pushed the door open. It creaked ominously on its hinges, a warning to whatever life lurked within. The moment he stepped inside, the dim light revealed the rustic charm of the cottage, but his mind was focused solely on the hunt. With his wolf instincts awakened, he felt the thrill of anticipation surge through him, the promise of a meal just inches away.

XxX

Adam stood in front of the mirror, pondering the best way to present himself before Lucifer's arrival. He knew first impressions mattered, especially when dealing with an animal of such enigmatic nature. With deliberate movements, he drew a warm bath, filling the air with the soothing scent of lavender. As he sank into the water, the warmth enveloped him, melting away any lingering tension.

Once clean, he meticulously brushed his fur until it shone, each stroke revealing the deep hues of brown that reflected the flickering candlelight in the room. The soft bristles glided over his coat, and he took a moment to admire his reflection, ensuring he looked polished and inviting.

To add the finishing touch, he reached for a delicate bottle of Lilith's perfume. With a few light spritzes, the air filled with a floral, almost intoxicating fragrance—one that he knew had an alluring effect, often causing animals to lose themselves in a dizzying haze, making it easier to eay them. Adam hoped this subtle allure would help bridge the gap between them when Lucifer finally stepped through the door, ensuring that their encounter would be anything but terrifying. At least at first.

Looking at the clock on the wall, Adam concluded he would be here any minute. If Lucifer questioned his appearance and why he was a boy instead of a girl, then he'd just say that he was scared to tell Lucifer the truth, afraid he would reject him. Hopefully, that would garner some sympathy points. A knock roused him from his thoughts.

Adam smirked and breathed in once before placing on a submissive face and heading towards the door. Opening it, his eyes widened to see a rabbit on the steps. Oh, it had been so long since he ate a rabbit. He forced himself not to drool as the rabbit said, "Hello! Are you Lilith?" Lucifer asked with a big smile on his face. "It's Lucifer!"

The rabbit stood before Adam, dressed in a flowing white peasant shirt that billowed gently with each movement, its fabric adorned with intricate patterns that hinted at a rural charm. Below, dark black pants clung to its legs, contrasting sharply with the crisp whiteness above. A striking red hood framed his face, the fabric vibrant against the muted tones of the surroundings, and large ears, tall and alert, poked through neatly woven slits at the top, twitching ever so slightly as if attuned to every sound.

As Adam took a closer look, he realized that this creature was not just any ordinary rabbit; it was a hare, distinguished by its long limbs and graceful posture. Though this hare was on the short side. A rush of hunger coursed through him, but he quickly smoothed his features, striving to project a calm demeanor. "Ah, yes. Come in," he said, ensuring his tone remained gentle and welcoming, despite the tension that tightened in his chest.

The hare's eyes sparkled with gratitude, and an inviting smile spread across its face. "Thank you!" He replied, his voice cheerful and warm, instantly easing the atmosphere.

"So, Lilith, I like your place," Lucifer said with a hint of appreciation in his voice. However, the name 'Lilith' grated on Adam's nerves. He despised being misidentified, especially in front of his prey. What he truly craved was the sound of his own name being spoken, a deeper recognition of his true self.

Taking a deep breath, Adam summoned his resolve to stir up some emotion, deciding it was time to bring out the waterworks. With his heart racing slightly, he adopted an expression laden with vulnerability. "Actually, I must confess something," he said, letting his gaze linger on Lucifer.

He made sure his eyes shone with an artificial sheen, reminiscent of someone on the brink of tears. The thought of confessing hung heavily in the air, and as he stared into Lucifer's inquisitive eyes, he felt a mixture of adrenaline and exhilaration. "My name is not Lilith. It’s Adam." The revelation hung on his lips, charged with a tension that was palpable.

He took a moment to let the words sink in before continuing, his voice almost trembling. "I... pretended that I was a female because I was afraid you would reject me..." As he spoke, he exaggerated the quiver of his lip, trying to summon that flicker of sympathy he so desperately needed.

But as he glanced up at Lucifer, he was met not with the shock or horror he anticipated, but with a look of genuine compassion. Lucifer's eyes softened as he regarded Adam, and he felt the triumphant recognition he craved and a bubbling snort threaten to escape him—a mixture of incredulity and amusement at how easy it was to manipulate him.

“Oh, Adam. You didn’t need to weave such a web of deception. I understand that your kind is not looked on favorably.” Lucifer said softly, his voice filled with a blend of empathy and concern. He stepped closer, his gaze piercing and yet understanding. Adam felt a warmth flush across his cheeks at the admission; the hare's words struck a chord deep within him. It was painfully true—his kind had been unjustly treated by both nature and animals alike. The world had become a relentless battleground, demanding constant vigilance from wolves like him. He was always on alert, aware that danger lurked around every corner, hunting wasn’t just a means of survival; it often required cunning and subterfuge.

As Lucifer continued speaking, his voice carried a gentle sorrow. "I'm sorry if I ever gave you any reason to question my sincerity. I understand the burdens that weigh heavily upon you." The hare’s sympathy cut through Adam's defensiveness, stirring an uncomfortable vulnerability within him. He had spent so long in the shadows, relying on deceit to fill his belly, that the idea of trust felt foreign and unsettling. The two of them stood in a moment of silence, the air thick with unspoken truths and shared struggles, each reflecting on the harsh realities of their existence.

Suddenly, the hare lifted his head, his sensitive nose twitching as he took in the scents swirling around him. His large, round eyes darted from side to side like he was scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. Adam glanced around, his instincts kicking in as he searched for the source of the hare's agitation. The only scent that filled his nostrils was the lingering perfume he had absentmindedly sprayed on himself earlier, sweet and floral mixed with something he couldn't name, but it was devoid of any danger.

Just then, Lucifer turned to Adam. His gaze was piercing, imbued with an intensity that made Adam’s heart race and caused him to flinch slightly. It was a reminder of their stark differences; Adam was a wolf, powerful and confident, while Lucifer was a timid creature, a mere rabbit. The contrast was striking. And yet…why did it feel different?

“Adam… oh, you naughty puppy,” Lucifer exclaimed with a playful lilt in his voice. “I didn't realize you were interested in that sort of thing.” His tone was teasing, and there was a glimmer of something in his eyes that suggested...something dark between them, one that Adam couldn’t quite decipher at that moment but felt he was about to find out.

"If I had known this was what you meant by asking me to come visit," Lucifer said, an edge creeping into his voice, "I would have come more prepared."

He felt a chill run down his spine as Lucifer stalked closer, a devilish smirk curling at the corners of his lips. The intensity of Lucifer's gaze deepened, his red eyes shifting into a dark, predatory glimmer that sent a wave of unease coursing through Adam. This can't be happening, he thought, shaking his head slightly. Adam was the wolf here, the one with the power, the natural predator in this unsettling scenario.

Yet, as Lucifer closed the distance between them, Adam's confidence began to wane, evaporating like mist under the rising sun. A growing sense of vulnerability washed over him, making him acutely aware of how small he felt in the face of Lucifer's looming presence.

With nowhere left to retreat, Adam's back pressed against the hard, unyielding surface of the wall behind him. He could feel the weight of his own heartbeat as he glanced up into Lucifer's eyes, realizing that the balance of power had shifted in ways he never anticipated.

"I can't wait to taste you~."

"What—"

Adam was pushed to the floor, pinned under strong arms. The wolf gasped, stunned at the turn of events. This was not how he envisioned things going for him. At this point, he was supposed to have eaten Lucifer and make his escape. Not whatever was going on here!

"Adam...you smell divine!" Lucifer exclaimed as he sniffed at Adam’s neck, his arms easily pinning Adam's down. How was he so strong?! "All this for me? You really shouldn't have but I accept!"

Accept what?!

Adam gasped again as his clothes, or Lilith's depending on how you look at it, was ripped from his body. He shouldn't have been so embarrassed by that, he was used to hunting without them anyway but for some reason, it made him feel vulnerable.

"Oh, you look delicious!" Lucifer complimented, making him flush red. Hands roamed his body but Adam could only squirm in embarrassment and slight fear as Lucifer touched him everywhere. A hand swiped down below and Adam whimpered, hating how needy he sounded.

“Oh my! An even better surprise!” Lucifer said as his hand came back up to show off his slick-covered hand. Adam blushed horribly, knowing exactly what he found down there. Adam was born with both parts and to a hare built to breed…it must have been like finding treasure.

He could feel the slick slowly dripping down his thighs and Adam, despite knowing he could break free if he truly wanted, let out a frustrated whine and tried to ignore the ache between his legs. His cock was at half mast, dripping pre-cum.

“You were asking for it with that perfume…” Lucifer growled before taking off his own pants. Adam's jaw dropped at how massive he looked. What he lacked in height he obviously made up in other ways.

The scent of Adam's own arousal made it hard to focus. Every movement and touch felt like Lucifer was lighting a match under his nerves. Fingers were quick to spread him as he moaned at the touch. If he had been more lucid, he would have thought about Lucifer's last sentence about the perfume he was wearing.

The perfume was designed to make animals horny…specifically to mate. That was how Lilith got her prey. If Adam had read the bottle he never would have put any on. As such, he was in too much pleasure to care.

Lucifer was swiftly in entering him and Adam whimpered at the feeling of being whole. He had no idea you could feel this good! He moaned as Lucifer went fast, growling down at him as he took him on the floor.

“I'm gonna fuck you. Fill you with my babies. Then, fuck you while you're pregnant with them.” Adam could only drool at his words. Never had he experienced something this stimulating. Not even when he went into heat.

“More!” Adam cried as Lucifer bottomed out. “Faster!” Lucifer growled and obeyed, fucking Adam as hard as he could. Adam cried, tears of pleasure rolling down his face as he was rocked into at a speed only a rabbit could do.

They did this for several hours and in many different positions. On the wall, on the bed, on the table and even outside. Lucifer was determined to impregnate Adam.

When they were done, they collapsed onto the bed, feeling drained. Adam was tired but satisfied. Lucifer sleepily looked at Adam and muttered, “You never wrote to me, did you?”

Well, shit.

XxX

Adam let out a frustrated groan as he propped himself up on his elbows, feeling the weight of his pregnancy settle heavily on him. Every movement felt sluggish, a reminder of how difficult it was to navigate even the simplest tasks. The cravings gnawed at him, and right now, nothing sounded better than the sweet, juicy burst of strawberries dipped in rich, velvety chocolate.

Beside him, Lucifer sat with a calm demeanor, his presence a source of comfort amidst Adam's discomfort. He gently cradled Adam’s feet in his hands, his fingers expertly working over the arches and soles, applying just the right pressure to ease the tension. Each tender stroke made Adam's body relax, and he couldn't help but let out a soft whimper of relief. Lucifer looked up at him, his eyes filled with affection, the gentle smile on his face a mirror of the love they shared.

"I got you," he said softly, his voice smooth and soothing, laced with warmth that enveloped Adam like a cozy blanket. "Don’t worry, we can take this one step at a time." Adam felt a wave of gratitude wash over him, knowing that Lucifer was there, supporting him through every struggle and craving.

Strangely enough, Lucifer found himself remarkably unfazed by Adam's earlier deception regarding his correspondence. It wasn’t the lie that ruffled his tail; rather, it was the audacity of Adam’s bold proclamation that he intended to make a meal out of him. With a resigned sigh, Lucifer had gazed at Adam with mock exasperation and remarked, "You are very lucky you're cute." As he spoke, he playfully pinched Adam's cheek, a gesture that served both as a lighthearted reprimand and an affectionate acknowledgment of Adam’s endearing charm.

Despite the unusual circumstances, Lucifer’s irritation melted away with surprising ease, especially when the revelation hit him that Adam was pregnant. The news shifted the entire atmosphere, filling it with a sense of warmth and anticipation. Lucifer's demeanor transformed as he realized the implications of this twist in their story, his irritation replaced by a mix of concern and excitement for the future they would share.

As Adam had settled into the warmth of Lucifer's burrow, the air filled with a sense of newfound freedom for the hare, who was eager to dote on him. The wolf let out a contented sigh, closing his eyes as he felt the tension melt away from his body under Lucifer's gentle touch. The soft pressure of his partner's fingers kneading into the arches of his feet was blissful, and he could hear the subtle sounds of the forest outside—a world that felt both distant and safe now that he was no longer out in it constantly.

“Thank you…” Adam murmured softly, a sense of gratitude threading through his voice. He opened his eyes just in time to catch Lucifer's gaze, shining with affection and concern. The way Lucifer smiled at him made Adam’s heart swell with warmth.

“Of course, Adam. I’m so glad to see you feeling better,” Lucifer replied, his tone soothing and full of love.

The challenges of pregnancy had weighed heavily on Adam, each day bringing its own set of struggles, both physically and emotionally. But within the comfort of Lucifer's embrace, he felt a soothing reassurance. Having such devoted support made the journey not only bearable but also an experience filled with unexpected joy and tenderness. It was a quiet moment of intimacy, a promise that together they could face whatever lay ahead.

"Hmm...keep this up, and I'll definitely let you fuck me..."

Lucifer's smile turned into a smirk. "I'm glad...I've been missing your taste~” He gently kissed Adam on the lips and giggled at his flustered expression.

[the-fiction-witch]

Princess

Media - Rings Of Power Character - Elrond Couple - Elrond X Reader Reader - Y/n (Gil-Galad's Daughrer) Rating - 18 + fingering/ pinv/ full sex/ princess/ squirting Word Count - 950

Elrond had been frustrated earlier in the day, when he was once more told he could not attend the council meeting, even if he was the High King’s Herald. Still, they denied him because of his birth. It disheartened him, but he knew there was little he could do to change the minds of the high elves.

But he had his own way of… dealing with such frustrations,

Y/n, The High King’s daughter. Was hidden secretly in Elronds room, her hands bound with silky elven rope around the wood of his bedpost. Pressing her body against the post and her fingers gripping into the intricate carvings. “Ughh! Uhhh…” She gasped out trying to stay quiet,

Elrond stood behind her, his body pressed up against her back, his hand had hitched up her blue and gold gown, bunching it up around her thighs and hips. His fingers buried inside her moving his index and middle finger in and out over and over making sure to be slow and gentle with her. His hand and her legs were soaked from her wetness dripping down after the almost hour he had been doing this to her.

“Ummmm! Ahhh!” She moaned her legs trembling and shaking, lust burning bright in her eyes

Elrond grinned wickedly, fingers buried deep inside her. He pumped his fingers in and out, curling them to hit that perfect spot inside her.

Y/n's breathy moans and wet sounds filled the room pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck yes, you're so tight,” Elrond growled in her ear kidding her neck a little,

Y/n writhed against the post, hips bucking wildly. Her moans turned into cries of pleasure, higher and higher in pitch as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside her. Biting her lip and arching her back so Elrond could rub his hard cock against her ass "Yes! Yes! Elrond please I'm close."

Elrond groaned at the feel of his rock hard cock rubbing against Y/n's ass, His fingers still buried deep inside her, he thrust them in and out rapidly, hitting that perfect spot inside her over and over, driving her wild with lust. “Cum all over my fingers, Princess,” Elrond panted. “I want to feel you on me.”

Y/n's Walls clenched around his fingers desperate for her orgasm.

Elrond roared in ecstasy as Y/n's walls clenched around his fingers, milking them as she gushed all over his hand. His cock twitched against her ass, precum leaking from the tip. He quickened his pace, fingerfucking her harder and faster as she quaked and shook around him. “Yes, cum all over my hand and fingers, my love!” Elrond growled savagely, fucking Y/n's soaked pussy as he chased his own release.

Y/n could hardly breathe, let alone form words. She screamed digging her nails into the groves of the bedpost as she came screaming his name and squirting all over his hand as she reached another orgasm,

Elrond bellowed in savage ecstasy as Y/n came all over his hand, he withdrew his fingers from Y/n's spent pussy, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. “you taste so sweet,” Elrond purred, grinning wickedly at Y/n. “Now it's my turn Princess. I'm gonna fuck that tight little pussy of yours until you can't walk straight,” he growled in her ear,

Y/n whimpered, already aching for more.

Elrond quickly unlaced his clothes and. He positioned himself behind her, grabbing her hips and pulling her back against him. “You want it, Princess?”

“Yes… yes…” she panted,

“I know you do,” Elrond growled, pressing the head of his cock against her puckered rosebud.

Y/n loudly moaned and arched her back for him,

Elrond grinned wickedly, his cock twitching at the sight of Y/n's ass, pouting and glistening with lube. He gently pushed against her pussy, feeling it give as he entered her, inch by inch. Elrond began to slowly thrust into Y/n, feeling her tight muscles gripping him like a vice. He reached around and pinched her clit, causing her to moan in pleasure and pain. “Yeah, nice and deep, such a good little princess,” Elrond grunted as he began pounding her pussy, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. He alternated between pinching her clit and spanking her ass cheeks hard, leaving red marks on her skin.

Y/n was writhing, lost in a haze of lust. Her moans and screams filled the room as Elrond fucked her, driving his cock in and out of her. "yes! Yes!" She screamed "Elrond! Ughh!"

Elrond groaned, as he felt the familiar tingle at the base of his spine. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Elrond growled, starting to pump his hips harder as he chased his release. “Look at you- uhh imagine your father saw you like this. With me. Begging for me and screaming for me. Humm whatever would he do to you princess.” he growled, “No worse then what I’m gonna do to you. Only difference is- You’re gonna love what I do to you.” Elrond grunted, “I'm gonna cum, princess,” Elrond growled against her lips, his cock twitching inside her.

“Yes! Just a little- Ahhhhh!” She screamed out reaching her third orgasm,

He felt her tighten around him, her pussy clamping down on his cock as she came, her juices coating him in her sweet nectar. Which brought him his own burying hilt deep inside her as he came. “Ughhh… fuck… umm… I love you so much Y/n.” He cooed in her ear peppering her neck and jaw with little kisses,

“I love you too Elrond,” she cooed turning her head back enough to kiss his lips softly and sweetly, “Again?” she pleaded,

“Humm…” He chuckled “come here, princess.” He growled untieing her hands and tossing her down on the bed. 

[fateunwritten-if]

My name is Jiya and I am one of Amelia’s friend. She left behind a letter, giving me instructions to let you know what happened. I want you to know that she attempted to take her own life 12 hours ago just after that post she made but, thankfully, she survived as we found her just in time and is now in the ICU getting the support she needs. Amelia is one of the kindest and most amazing people I've ever known. She has a heart of gold, and it breaks my heart to know that she has been struggling so much. In the letter, Amelia talked about how much joy she found in making others happy. She loves writing so much. She would always send me pictures of every time someone told her they liked her work. She would stay up till midnight trying to make her work perfect. She said she feels like she disappointed you all by going through with her plan. She has always been the person to lift others up, and it’s so heartbreaking that she hasn’t felt that same happiness for herself lately. Please keep Amelia in your thoughts and prayers. If you reach out, please do so with kindness—she needs your love and support now more than ever. Thank you for being part of her life and for all the love you’ve shown her.

[justanothersanjilover]

So I got this idea about a Zosan Soulmate AU and just had to write a little bit about it. I don't know how fast I can update this, but its a start and I’m going to keep writing it 😊

My Name on your tongue

Part 1

Paring: Zosan (maybe Sanzo, too)

Soulmate AU

Triggers: Child abuse, swear words, death

Six years old

“In our world, you get something very special when you turn 18. You get to summon a familiar - an animal, mythical or natural - that will be your companion throughout your whole life. The animal you summon is based on what you need in life and what fits you. No one knows who’s assigning the animal to you, but it always fits.

Now, if you are very passionate and loving toward your familiar and it returns that feeling, there is a chance that it will turn into a human and become your soulmate. But this only happens when there exists such a strong bond that both of you would endure the greatest pain imaginable for the other. The bond has to be so strong that you’d die for each other.

Most people don't put in the effort because why go to that length for an animal? Also, there is no greater need to be with your soulmate unless your familiar turns into it. You can perfectly live without ever getting your soulmate.”

“Is father your soulmate?” Sanji wanted to know, looking up at his mum.

Sora shook her head, her expression somewhat painful, but her son didn't pick up on that fact.

“But…you don't have a familiar around.”

“I know,” Sora swallowed drily. “She…she died. She wanted to protect me and got badly injured. I couldn't help her.”

Sanji looked shocked at her.

“I’m sorry…”

He snuggled against his mother to comfort her. She smiled sadly and brushed a hand through his blond hair.

“When you get your familiar, make sure to protect them. It’s a really bad feeling to lose them forever.”

“I promise. And I will love them so much! I can't wait to meet them!”

Sanji was so different from his siblings, and Sora was thankful for that, but she knew that he would have it worse than them. While pregnant with him and his three brothers, her husband genetically modified them - against Sora’s will. He made them stronger, more durable - as he called it - faster and better in anything. He got rid of their emotions and made sure they would become his best soldiers. In doing this, he also hoped to influence the familiar they’d get. He wanted them to have big, brutal animals - monsters to make their enemies shake in fear. Sora had watched him silently get rid of the emotions and feelings of their oldest child, their daughter Rejiu. He somehow managed to manipulate her into an obedient, emotionless kid, strong and fast, and an expert in poisons despite her young age. She was his first perfect soldier.

But Sora wasn't standing by as he tried to corrupt her other children! So, after learning about Judges doing, Sora took a poison to destroy the modifications. Unfortunately, it only worked on Sanji. On the one hand, she was happy for him; on the other, she was sad and devastated. Sanji would never have any worth for his father; he’d always be the failure, and she was the reason why.

Although Sanji always smiled when he came to visit, she saw the bruises and cuts. She saw the pain behind his young eyes. She knew what his siblings and father were doing to him, and she could do nothing to stop them. So she always tried to give him the best times when he came to visit her. Unfortunately, the poison she took destroyed her body and made her bedbound.

Hugging Sanji tightly, she did her best not to start to cry. She knew that her days were counted…and it would be the end of the night when she would leave Sanji behind to deal with everything all by himself. The only ray of light was that at least on his eighteenth birthday, he would get a familiar that surely would protect him. That was why she told him all about familiars! She wanted him to know as much as possible, as much as humanity found out about them. Sanji sucked everything up like a sponge!

The only thing she wasn't allowed to tell him was how to summon his familiar. Because if a familiar was summoned before the eighteenth birthday, there were terrible side effects. Sometimes, the familiar wasn't fully developed….like the child. Other times, the child couldn't hold the image of the familiar (which was important), and it would turn out deformed. And then there were times when the familiar was an adult and got really protective and possessive of the child - sometimes so much it had to be put down because no one could touch the child without getting attacked, even when the kid was hurt, starving or anything else putting its life in danger. So she wouldn't tell Sanji - even if a protective familiar wouldn't be the worst…she wanted them to have a chance at getting real friends, and Sora hoped Sanji would be allowed to find his soulmate. She hoped he could experience this purest kind of love in the world.

“You need to go,” Sora mumbled into Sanji’s hair. “It’s past visiting time.”

“I don't want to…”

“I know, love. I know. But your father will get mad if you stay, and you know that.”

Sanji nodded, suppressing sobs, as he pulled away from his mother. He lifted his head and smiled at her.

“I’ll come again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, do that. I can't wait to see you again, my little angel.”

Sora hugged him tight and placed a kiss on top of his head. Why should she tell him that she wouldn't be there in the morning? It would only upset him and make him sad and guilty. She felt her spirits leave her body slowly but surely. At the end of the night, she’d be dead, and Sanji would be alone. Before she let him go, she brushed a hand through his hair and made him look up into her eyes.

“Remember that I will always love you, my little sunshine. Regardless of what will happen in your future. I’ll love you every day of your life and after it.”

Sanji looked a bit confused, but as soon as Sora smiled, he smiled back, placed a quick, wet kiss on her cheek and ran out - so his father wouldn't punish him.

~

“Useless!”

“I’m trying…” Sanji sobbed, holding the side of his face - it pulsed with pain, and he was sure his lip was bleeding.

“That's the point!” His father yelled. “You are trying! You shouldn't have to try! You should be able just to do it!”

“But I…” another blow, and Sanji flew backward against a pillar of the training room - he groaned in pain when he hit the stone with full force.

“You are weak! A false experiment! A fucking failure! I should just get rid of you!”

Judge was towering over his son like death himself. And Sanji couldn't do anything different than feel fear and hurt and disgust at his own body. The poison from his father's lips seeped into his mind and planted a dangerous seed. He cried when Judge grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and held him up to his face.

“And that's why you don't have a familiar. You will never get one! Never! I took that ability from you because it would be as weak as you are, and I don't have use for two failures in my kingdom!”

Sanji sobbed uncontrollably. Ever since he asked his father about his own familiar - which was a big, dragon-like creature always lurking behind his throne - he left no chance unused to point out that Sanji would never have one. Sanji didn't understand why he would rip this opportunity from him, why he was such a mistake in his father's eyes. Just because he wasn't as strong as his siblings? Because his skin started to bleed when cut or punched hard enough? Because he cried when he got hurt?

“Get out of my sight before I start losing my temper,” Judge growled and tossed him aside like a back of garbage.

Sanji scrambled to his feet and ran from the training room, hoping his brothers wouldn't wait outside like they did most of the time. His hopes crashed when he closed the door, and laughter sounded behind him.

“Look at that,” Yonji said.

“The weakling is back out,” Ichiji grinned.

“Seems like he still can't handle a punch,” Niji snickered.

His brothers gathered around him, laughing and pointing at him. Sanji felt tears in his eyes but tried to swallow them. He hated to cry in front of his brothers, just as much as he hated to do so in front of his father. His eyes searched for pink hair, and surely, he found his sister, standing in the background but grinning as evil as the rest of them.

“Leave me alone,” he sobbed - knowing very well it would turn in the opposite of what he wanted…but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

“What?”

“We couldn’t hear you over all your whining.”

“I think he said we should show him how to fight.”

And a blink of an eye later, he crashed against the wall and slid down to the floor. Lying there, he curled up into a ball to at least try and shield his stomach and face from the kicks and blows that rained down on him like a hailstorm.

In the end, he was beaten bloody, and they left him where he was lying. His eyes stared into nothingness while his tears mixed with the blood and formed little puddles on the floor.

Hours later, he was able to drag himself to his bedroom. Curling up in his bed, Sanji felt tears in his eyes again.

“Why?” He cried into his pillow. “Why am I not like them? Why do I have to be this way?”

He knew why, his mother had told him, but still…There were moments when he hated his emotions, and he would give them up just to see the same smile on his father's face, pointed at him like he was giving his siblings.

He was worthless, and that's also why he would never have a familiar, which made him cry even more. Since his mother died two months ago, he always comforted himself with the knowledge that he’d get a chance to meet his soulmate. But because he was weak, because of his emotions, Judge took this ability, this gift from him. The first time he mentioned it to Sanji, his whole world was shattered. He didn't even feel the hits his father was dealing. He was numb…almost lifeless. The only thing he was looking forward to - the only thing that made his little heart and mind strong enough to survive and not give up - was the reassuring thought of meeting his familiar.

After his breakdown, he thought maybe, if he got better, if he could prove to his father that he was worth keeping around…maybe he would give him the ability to get his familiar back.

“I have to…get stronger…” Sanji sobbed while drifting to sleep.

All he wanted was to be loved and be part of this family…

[mizuki-foreshadowing]

Kamiyama High Festival, Episodes 6 & 7

Feeling hurt from the two students from earlier, Mizuki retreats to the rooftop, an old habit. There she sees Rui. Their middle school days were defined by these lonely impromptu hangouts. Rui knew Mizuki before she became Mizuki, and he had been the one to help her back then.

We learn that the context of the flashback to Mizuki and Rui with Mizuki in the boys uniform, is that it's the first time the two had met.

Their first introduction is very worth delving into. Rui introduces himself and asks Mizuki's name. She refuses to give it, but Rui already knew it. He says the reason he asked anyway was to hear what Mizuki would say. Under the reading that Mizuki is a closetted trans girl, this interaction makes perfect sense; Rui picked up on Mizuki's self-loathing and wanted to be considerate and kind to a fellow loner. It was an invitation for Mizuki to give him her real name [Mizuki].

Likewise, the metacontext is that Colorful Palette wants to be kind and considerate to people like Mizuki; they're telling her story in a sincere way. The first and easiest way they do this, made even easier by Japanese grammar, is to not refer to her with a masculine pronoun. Japanese allows the omission of a pronoun if it's clear from context, which combines well with the depth that can be conveyed with [name]-honorific, as well as simply using either the first or the last name. Akito, for instance, who's heard the rumors about Mizuki, exclusively calls her Akiyama in this event story.

It's a little harder to do this in English, which requires a subject for its sentences, and only really offers the use of first name or a pronoun. In English, students who know Mizuki's secret, at worst, refer to her in the text of the game with 'they'. The dialogue of N25 members, at least from what I've seen, is careful to only use 'Mizuki' or some other wording to refer to Mizuki. (as a trans woman, I'm very sensitive to when 'they' is used for us) They don't know her secret after all, and would otherwise use 'she'.

A more difficult way than pronoun usage, for the team to be respectful of Mizuki and players who they want to reach out to with her story, is to not deadname her. If they ever gave a birth name for her, it could be used by hurtful fans as a more correct way to refer to her, doing only harm. Rui and Mizuki's introduction is meant to be read as Rui asking for a different name from Mizuki. She refuses to give any name. This would otherwise signal the conversation as being over, so Rui skips the introduction for her, saying he already knows her name.

Is this all enough evidence to support that 'Mizuki' when used in flashbacks of her in a boys uniform is a way to respectfully censor out her deadname? Maybe, but there is one more piece of evidence, in the next episode. Episode 7 opens with a timeskipped flashback. Mizuki and Rui have been having their loner hangouts on the school roof for a while now.

It's not something I can capture in a screenshot, but Rui refers to Mizuki in this line with "Mizuki-kun". This is clearly still Mizuki before she transitioned, and she's still just as icy and bitter in the way that she talks as she'd been in Episode 6. But more than that, [I checked and] Mizuki is an unambiguously feminine name. It means 'hope', and the only suggested spelling for it is with the kanji that Mizuki's name officially uses. Conversely, -kun is typically reserved for a male addressee. While Rui also uses -kun for Emu and other members of the cast younger than him as part of how he talks, he no longer uses -kun for Mizuki. At the end of Episode 5 and all throughout Episodes 6 and 7, Rui in the present uses just Mizuki to address her, which acts to respect her in the same way friends avoid using 'dude' or 'guys' when addressing a trans girl. Rui using -kun in the flashback may reflect that the name in-universe it's spoken with was not actually 'Mizuki' and that we the players read it as 'Mizuki' as part of the writers respecting her character.

This is the Mizuki who Mizuki talks about when she tells people about how she used to feel confined by people's expectations, always wondering how much she should change herself not to inconvenience those around her. That Mizuki can't understand why Rui refuses to act more normal and try to fit in, even as herself doing so is the source of her own misery.

Rui's response is there are many things that are very much worth finding in solidude. Among them, Mizuki herself, with the silent hope that Rui is also that for Mizuki.

Mizuki understanding that getting rejected by the other people around her isn't the end of the world, and that she can still find meaning even if she does so alone, is the first step toward the person she'll become, of somebody who does things her way and is so much happier for it.

[bambii-bimbo]

Enthralled

They woke up in a daze, head pounding, sitting in chair. They had no idea where they were, or what had happened to them. All they could remember was... umm... uhhh... In that moment, they realized they couldn't remember anything. Who they were, where they were from, what their life was like. Becoming aware of their body now, looking down to find a nice, round pair of large breasts covering their slim stomach. They screamed out of fear, only to hear a feminine, woman-like cry escape from their plumped up lips. Almost hyperventilating now, they checked the rest of his body to confirm their fears, and with a long, deep breath, took in the changes. A round butt, long, thick black hair tumbling over a narrow feminine frame, and to top it off, a pink, glowing pussy between their thighs. After calming himself down, they looked around the room made up of nearly all pink, with a few soft chairs sitting in front of a TV, and a door leading into a chamber of sorts at the other side of the room. Just then the door opened, and pure perfection walked in.

"She's awake!" The girl was wearing a ridiculously revealing black outfit, and strutted her way into the room, breasts moving side to side and long pink-highlighted hair swinging back and forth. She was stunning, and the still groggy, confused girl couldn't help but stare at her form. At least, now she knew she was a girl, but couldn't remember if she was always one. Not that it mattered anyway, the girls whole world became the sexy woman as she approached her.

"How do you feel, Kylie?" The woman inspected Kylie's features, giving her a moment to digest her appointed name, before continuing on. "In case you don't remember, which I seriously doubt you do, my name is Alexa. I know you're feeling pretty confused right now, but that's alright. By the time we are done, you will be feeling so, so much better." Before Kylie could say anything, Alexa snapped her fingers, and spoke a command. "Bambi Freeze." Instantly, Kylie felt all of her muscles completely clench, and she stood at attention in front of Alexa. "Good girl!" Clearly she was pleased with Kylie's response, and with another snap, motioned for her to follow. Kylie followed, without any resistance or thought, pursuing Alexa before being sat down in one of the pink chairs, Alexa sitting directly across, extremely close. "What am I doing here?" Kylie asked, her girly voice echoing through the room. Alexa gave a smirk, licking her lips and seemingly waiting for something.

All of a sudden, Kylie heard footsteps behind her, and another woman came around the chair, wearing the same type of revealing outfit, but this time was a brunette. Her pink bra did a poor job of hiding her absolutely massive tits, swinging back and forth as she leaned over towards Alexa. The two exchanged a few words before giving their attention back to Kylie, still questioning her situation in the chair. "Relax, you won't need to think about anything in a second. If you're still confused, let me explain. You have gone through an intense brainwashing cycle, where we have altered your mind and body to be the perfect bimbo doll, just like the two of us. I'm guessing that you can't remember anything before now, which is good. Old life completely gone, first step to accepting your new life as Bambi." Kylie tensed up, asking "who is Bambi?" The other bimbo laughed, a very pretty laugh, and said "Bambi is the girl deep within you. We have programmed her deep into your subconscious, and now it is time for you to accept her as a part of yourself! You don't have to fight it, the conditioning has made sure that you can't anyway. Just let it feel good, and give in to the feelings of pleasure and empty bliss you feel while we complete your bimbofication. Now, lets begin."

Bimbofication? Bambi? Brainwashing? Kylie tried to stand up, to make an effort to resist her captors. She wasn't some dumb bimbo, conditioned to obey her inner "Bambi". This was ridiculous! Before Kylie could stand up and do anything, however, Alexa snapped her fingers, and Kylie froze in the chair. Blankly staring at the girl in front of her, she could feel the hands of the other girl behind her begin to run through her black, moisturized hair. "What did we tell you, Bambi. There is no escape from your conditioning, no chance of resistance. Your subconscious mind gave in a long time ago, and now it is time to let your conscious mind accept this too. It's so easy to just obey, to open up yourself to Bambi, to let her take control. You'll feel so good, feel like such a good girl. So let it happen." Alexa moved in super close to Kylie, still feeling the other bimbo's soft hands glide over her head, massaging her ears. "Look at my breasts, Bambi." Kylie instantly felt her eyes drift downwards, down to Alexa's large tits. She watched them begin to sway, side to side, in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic motion. She had to admit, they were easy to look at, so full and soft, admiring them as they swung. Before long, Kylie was deep in trance, completely enthralled in Alexa's breasts, completely mindless as the other girl whispered into her ears, still gently massaging her. "Good girl. Stare. Submit. Obey. Sink." Kylie relaxed into the chair, eyes fluttering and mouth dropping open. It did feel good, to stare at Alexa's breasts, bobbing up and down now.

"Mmm, what a good girl you are. So easily accepting trance, dropping deep under my large hypnotizing breasts. Feel the pleasure radiate all over your body, sinking even deeper into this state of obedience. Bri, lets make her feel it even... more." Kylie sat, unmoving mindlessly absorbing Alexa's breasts and enjoying every second of it before feeling Bri's own, soft, large breasts pressing up against the sides of her head. The chair leaned back and Alexa felt her head lean into Bri, with her legs wrapping around her tight waist and feeling her warmth on her back. Alexa adjusted herself too, climbing on top of Kylie and rubbing herself over Kylie's crotch. Kylie felt the drool come out of her mouth and pussy, feelings of arousal increasing by the second. Spreading her legs even more as Alexa grinded on her, continuing to sway her large, bare breasts back and forth. When did she take her bra off? It didn't matter, all Kylie knew is that she was loving this. All resistance she had was completely gone, replaced with total mindless obedience and vacant, seemingly endless arousal. Bri's large breasts pressing up against her ears, holding her in place, Alexa leaned down, holding a teat over Kylie's mouth. "Show me you want my milk. Only the dumbest, horniest bimbos get my milk." Kylie strained for her nipple, wet tongue and soft moans highlighting her struggle, showing her desperation. Alexa, satisfied, lowered her teat on to Kylie's face, and...

Kylie was in heaven. Sweet milk instantly burst into her mouth, covering her face as she blankly sucked, happy and empty as the thick heavy cream filled her mind. Making any remaining thoughts completely still, dissolving in the warmth and pleasure of the milk rushed to her brain, making her feel so much more fuzzy and aroused than before. The feminine, drowsy scent coming from her exposed breast only added more to the horniness, thinking of nothing but the sweet milk gushing into her wet, obedient mouth as a powerful pink fog clouded Kylie's head. Hearing nothing but her constant triggers and mantras being repeated in her ears, and Alexa's moans stimulating Kylie even more. Alexa suddenly pulled away, leaving Kylie needy and so, so horny, begging for more. Laughing loudly, mixed with her pleasure filled moans, Alexa backed off, stimulating her sensitive breast with her own hand, and Bri pulled her breasts, also wet with milk, away from Kylie's head. Intense pleasure causing Kylie to writhe, she audibly yelled, accepting her new life. "I am a pretty horny bimbo doll, completely brainwashed and conditioned to obey and be the most slutty girl that Bambi can possibly be. Please keep going, I'm begging you so much. I need it so, so much right now." Kylie moaned again, hands locked at her sides no matter how much she tried to move towards her throbbing pussy. Alexa and Bri giggled, before Alexa said "You will fully accept your conditioning and become one of us only when we allow you to cum. Cum out your mind and drop fully into submission for Bambi. What a good girl you have been, keeping you in heat this long has left you desperate. So, we will allow it, just for good girls like you. Think with your pussy now."

The trigger immediately took effect, with Kylie instantly moving her hand to her breasts, stimulating them and watching them lactate for the first time. She felt Bri climb on top of her, pressing her own hands against her sensitive breasts and massaging them, sending spasms throughout Kylie's body. Then, Alexa's plump, wet lips locked on to Kylie's pussy, instantly delving her tongue deep within her clit. Bri locked her mouth against Kylie's and they shared saliva, rubbing their breasts together on autopilot. Kylie couldn't think about anything other than her triggers, repeating her mantras and feeling so abolustely delicious. She felt an orgasm approaching through her pussy, as Alexa's pace increased rapidly. Her moans became louder, the mantras like the ticking of a clock, her whole body twitching every time she repeated one in her head. And then, she heard a new one. "Bambi Cum and Collapse." In the most intense and pleasurable surge of bliss she had ever felt, Kylie finally came, her stimulated breasts worked by Bri's as they passionately made out, Alexa's tongue feeling the full force of her orgasm. Feeling Bambi take total control, Kylie felt the intense orgasm rush through her like a flood, before finally settling after a long moment. She collapsed back against the chair, Bri lifting off and standing beside Alexa, licking the remaining juices off of her face.

Kylie stood up in front of the two bimbos, admiring her new fellow Bambi's and still shaky from the intense orgasm. It was no longer a question, Bambi controlled Kylie, a good girl for her conditioning. So brainwashed that she was unable to form a thought unrelated to her brainwashing or pleasure. "Thank you so much for showing me the bliss that Bambi brings. Why would I ever resist when I can just give in and be a bouncy, blank bimbo?" Alexa bit her lip. "So glad you came around, Bambi. Now you can let your tits and pussy think for you at all times, obey the pleasure that you love so, so much. Good girl." Kylie mindlessly smiled, feeling soft and fuzzy, ready to begin her new life as a slutty, brainwashed bimbo.

[mythalism]

ok im going to try and parse through my feelings on the entire game in the hopes that expelling these thoughts from my brain will allow me to actually sleep because i am running on about 3 hours right now

i will start positive with the things i absolutely loved:

solas. whos suprised

just kidding i will elaborate further of course. genuinely, from a (mostly) objective writing perspective, he is the best part of this game. like hands down. his writing is bonkers insane. he has the best lines and the most complexity out of any character in the game (besides mythal perhaps). i was so so so afraid they were going to completely woobify him into someone who was right all along and never did anything wrong in his life blah blah to make him sympathetic to a new audience. they did not give a fuck however and i could not be more glad. he is exactly the dread wolf and bringer of nightmares of legend. he is so wonderfully in character, even if that character is not someone we saw in inquisition (we saw solas, not the dread wolf!). there are moments that solas shines through, like in his mentions of varric in the very beginning, when he mentions his love for the inquisitor, his convo with a rook he respects (which i do believe was genuine, even if he betrays them anyway. we know that he regularly betrays people that he likes and respects lol), the way he helps the shadow dragons and saves the dalish, and of course in his final scene with the inquisitor. he manages to retain that perfect back and forth, mask on and mask off, solas vs. fen'harel dichotomy with a different balance than the one we saw in inquisition. in inquisition, we saw solas with hints of the dread wolf peeking through. in veilguard, we see the dread wolf with hints of solas peeking through. ok i need to move on or i will talk about him forever. but they nailed the moral ambiguity with him. they nailed the theme of forgiveness being hard. i loved when harding said something along the lines of "there is no one who doesnt deserve forgiveness" this is one of the few consistent themes that this game was successful in exploring. ok ok moving on now i promise

i also loved mythal (fragment mythal, not morrigan mythal who was a flop). admittedly i am a mythal stan, but her integration into this story was a highlight for me. she haunted the narrative in such a great way. it added so much complexity to solas. hearing him GROWL at elgar'nan in rage "you have lost the right to say her name" made me scream in glee. i loved talking to her and having to prove my worth to her. i love that it was hard and she would kill you without hesitation if she found you unworthy. i love that if she does find you worthy she is instrumental in changing solas's mind. i loved her dragon appearance even if she was useless in the damn fight lol. morrigan mythal sucked tho but thats for later

similar vein but the main quests were fantastic, with a few caveats. but overall every main quest had me hooked, having so much fun, at the edge of my seat and screaming and flailing in my chair. weisshaupt was incredible, BLOOD OF ARLATHAN WAS INSANE (the solas elgarnan bitch fight will go down in history as a moment of all time for me) and of course the finale was some of the best writing ive seen from bioware. the way suspense was built was well done, the stakes felt high, and the twists were interesting.

choice and consequence was absolutely banger. i gasped when i went back to dock town after leaving minrathous to fend for itself and saw a gallows with bodies hanging from nooses and piles of bodies in the streets. i gasped when harding died. i gasped when bellara got blighted. definitely the best choice and consequence in the entire franchise and it was very satisfying. i feel motivated to play again to see different options play out.

the environments are fucking insane. genuinely insane giga brained genius. i have never been so gagged by a video game like this. not only were they beautiful but they were well-designed, interesting and diverse. i rarely got bored anywhere (except treviso lol) and i was regularly picking my jaw up off the floor. some highlights for me were the anderfels area where you first meet davrin with that amazing vista, kal sharok, the docktown catacombs, pretty much anything in arlathan, the deep roads, and honestly so much. absolutely beautiful.

this game felt incredibly cinematic and the direction was fantastic. the cutscenes were so well done and they transitioned so smoothly into gameplay. the animation was fantastic, and everything was so engaging to watch. my favorite cutscene has to be when solas is about to switch places with rook and you see him in the background out of the corner of your eye twice, though rook doesnt know. i was literally screaming it was so fucking cool. it genuinely felt like watching a movie a lot of the time

i genuinely enjoyed the gameplay loop of exploration. i had a lot of fun just exploring around docktown and arlathan, there was always something new to find, i loved the puzzles, and i loved finding codex entries. this is a crazy thing to say but it actually reminded me a lot of genshin impact LMFAO. which i know a lot of people would probably consider to be a negative but i thought it was engaging and fun.

combat fucks. it got a little repetitive by the end, mostly because i think i just wanted to find out the end of the story and fucking darkspawn were in my way, but it was a huge step up from previous games and i think action combat was a good choice.

this game has an incredible amount of genuine heart and soul put into it and you can feel it in every facet of the game. i can tell that the devs were passionate and their creativity was genuine. i could feel their love for the characters and the world. this game is unflinchingly sincere and not afraid of being cringe (though it definitely is cringe at times, i respect the commitment to it so i dont mind it). it genuinely does not feel like an EA cash grab, which is a huge win considering how likely it was for years that a cash grab was exactly what we were going to get.

i enjoyed the varric ghost twist. i knew something was up with him but i didnt fully call him being dead until right before the reveal. i get why people are going to be upset about it, its a pretty fucking crazy decision, but i think what saves it is the quote he gives rook in the fade about his choices being his own and still encouraging rook to try to get through to solas despite being KILLED BY HIM.... fucking crazy. it ties in enough to the overall theme of regret and forgiveness that i think it works.

ok time for the negatives

its hard to pick my biggest issue but i definitely have a top 3: the lore flopped majorly, much of the writing felt juvenile, and there was an overall lack of nuance to everything about the game except for solas's storyline that did feel very not-dragon age to me

i actually dont give a fuck about lore retcons, especially if they are explained well. i think they are often necessary and can be pulled off. but this game literally just pretended to answer decades long questions about the lore and then does not. which would be fine if we didnt have someone who knows all the answers to those questions hanging out in our brains and willing to answer them. we did not learn what exactly a titan was. we did not learn what they were like when they were alive and before they were blighted. mythal called them monsters. harding suggests they might have been violent like the elves. we literally dont know anything about them except for what solas and mythal did to them. i dont think anyone even actually gave a clear answer on what the blight is. ok it was the titan's severed dreams but what the fuck does that mean? it was their rage and pain? then why does harding say the red lyrium manifested by her rage and pain was not blighted, just red? if blight equals titan nightmares then that lyrium should have been blighted? so what the fuck is the blight that ghilan'nain cooked with? red lyrium? how did the original darkspawn get made? did she start injecting people with red lyrium? but we know what that does to people because we saw it in inquisition. it makes them red lyrium freaks but it doesnt make them darskpawn. WHAT ARE DARKSPAWN? WHAT IS THE BLIGHT? did i miss this in a codex entry or something guys im so serious. how did we play this whole game and not actually learn what the blight is. we also learned almost nothing about the forgotten ones, which is fine except we literally met one and all they really had to say about it was "evil spirit" ? ok. also um. where are the rest of the evanuris. ok they are gone but where did they go. we know where their archdemons went, but where did they go? ghilan'nain exists separate from her archdemon so its not like killing an archdemon kills the evanuris, it just makes them vulnerable. should they not all be still alive in that prison together, just mortal and archdemon-less? they literally just say "they're gone" and expect us to be like ok! WHAT THE FUCK??? WHERE ARE THEY?? WHERE ARE THEIR BODIES??? WHAT??????? also the explanation for archdemons was boring. it felt like the team literally did not know the answers themselves (and didnt feel like calling up david gaider) so they just gave us vague non-answers hoping we wouldnt notice. I NOTICED.

similar vein; we learned nearly nothing about elgar'nan and ghilan'nain, and they overall felt cartoonishly evil and one-dimensional. and this is a greater problem that ill talk about next, but they were afforded none of the nuance that solas and mythal were given, and it feels glaring in comparison. why was elgarn'nan evil? was he just born fucking evil? we know thats not true. he originated as a spirit, what kind of spirit? what was his relationship with mythal like? what was his relationship to the other evanuris like? he calls ghilan'nain "sister", were they always close? did they become close in their prison? what are his goals beyond tyranny? or do you actually want me to believe he is just full stop evil? if he was one of the original spirit born elvhen what virtue did he embody and what polluted him into something so terrible? why does ghilan'nain love the blight? why is she obsessed with creation? we only get a single codex about she and andruil (that i found). what was her and solas's relationship like before she ascended to godhood? he calls her "the best of them" but we never see anything about their relationship. neither of them has any nuance. they are just pure evil, corrupted by ???? something ??? power??? i guess. and we are supposed to just be fine with it lol. what are even their motivations? why do they want to cover the world in blight? what is their emotional connection to this pursuit??????? we get such an exploration of this for solas and just NOTHING for them. they feel so one-dimensional in comparison, literal comic book cartoon character villains.

similarly, this game lacks nuance overall. bioware is known for its exploration of grey morality on both personal and sociopolitical levels. this game has that only for solas and literally no one else. qunari antaam? evil (super fucking racist depiction as well). venatori? evil minions. elven gods? evil. forgotten ones? evil. meanwhile, crows? suddenly good. its okay. just forget the MURDER, child slavery and abuse. seriously its fine. caterina dellamorte is a sweet old lady :) dont worry about it :). every faction is good and every antagonist is bad. its genuinely insane coming from the studio who gave us dragon age 2 to now give us something so fucking boring and black and white. they got SO CLOSE with the wardens and isseya and in the end davrin still kills her. why does solas get a chance at redemption and no one else does? here we are with an entire story centered around this morally grey character, interrogating whether or not his actions are justified, whether his intentions matter, whether his abuse informed his atrocities, asking ourselves if he deserves forgiveness asking if he deserves to be saved, where do we draw the line? what is the point of no return? why do people do the things they do? its fantastic. and then you go and do a faction or companion quest and its just like, these are the good guys and these are the bad guys. dont ask questions. have fun! WHAT???? FROM BIOWARE??????????

this issue bleeds over into the companions as well. i genuinely liked all of them. they are likable. but holy shit they have no flaws. all of them are genuinely good people and their problems center around others rather than themselves. there is little to no complexity, to the point where honestly they did not feel like real people to me. harding is sweet and perfect and her worst trait is being *checks notes* TOO AGREEABLE? davrin's worst flaw is raising his voice at his pet too much. emmrich's only flaw is FEARING DEATH LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN BEING? neve is kind of cold. thats it. bellara never does anything wrong. lucanis doesnt sleep enough? taash is the closes they come to any sort of complexity and i did genuinely enjoy their identity struggle and i loved seeing their complex relationship with their mother. but none of those are flaws. like these characters are cookie-cutter perfect. we used to have companions who committed acts of terror and blood mages and mean jealous little brothers and did horrible things and said horrible things to each other and struggled with things like internalized racism and complacency in violent corrupt institutions and addiction and facing your fucking war crimes and they are some of the most beloved of the franchise because they feel SO REAL. like genuinely going from characters like anders and blackwall to these companions was so jarring and disappointng. i LIKE them all, dont get me wrong. but they do not act like real, complex fully fleshed out people, and the writing overall suffers greatly for it.

again connected, the writing in terms of literal dialogue but also what i mentioned above comes together to feel incredibly juvenile. i know some big reviewers beforehand said that the game feels like a pixar movie at times, and unfortunately i dont think thats inaccurate. a little harsh maybe, but there are moments that are truly written in such a way that it feels like the audience is children. and that doesnt mean its bad, because i am a lover of childrens media and most of my favorite media of all time is actually for kids (avatar the last airbender, fullmetal alchemist, etc), but this game oscillates back and forth so violently it will give you literal whiplash. it reminded me a lot of the way young adult fiction is written. GOOD young adult fiction, where its well-done, but its deliberately written to be simpler in both diction and theme and focuses on concepts that young people can identify with. this is how i felt during much of the companion quests during this game. again, it was GOOD young adult fiction, but it had the narrative styling and lack of nuance and complexity that is characteristic of such things, and that is just literally not what the game is supposed to be like. and there are great writing moments that do feel appropriately mature and complex, but they are mostly in the main quest and their presence makes the lack of maturity in the rest of the writing feel even more jarring. i have no idea why they wrote it this way.

morrigan's mythal flopped and was out of character. i missed flemeth's crazy ass. they literally nerfed her. i think this is connected to everyone being nice and good and perfect (no abusive mothers allowed!) which is crazy because the other mythal fragment got to be a crazy bitch. so what the hell

the lack of world states is still a major L. it felt like things were missing that should have been present and had no reason not to be other than just no worldstates. well of sorrows needed to be there ESPECIALLY considering the solas/mythal/lavellan dynamic.

this one is self-indulgence but solavellan could have benefited from better pacing. packing so much into act 3 made it feel rushed. i loved the scenes themselves, but there could have easily been more build-up with a few codex entries.

no fenris. i will never forgive

ok im running out of steam and actually feeling more able to sleep now (thank god). i know i said a lot of negatives but i actually believe this game is very, very good, especially within the context of its development. i think a lot of the issues likely do stem from their fraught development cycle, and overall they did a great job of identifying their priorities and pursuing them to the fullest. i dont necessarily agree with what they prioritized or what their vision was at all points, but i respect the clear direction that this game had. i do not believe it will stick with me the way the previous games did, and while playing i often found myself just missing the characters from 2 and inquisition that i love, and the writing that so often had me screaming crying throwing up and/or giggling and twirling my hair. however, this game gave me the #1 thing i wanted which was a satisfying solavellan conclusion, and though yes it could have been done a bit more... artfully, i think its incredible considering where we were just a few years ago with this game. i will play it again a few times, and the fact that it has sold well enough to guarantee bioware gets to stick around and make new games is a major win. 7.5/10 thank u for listening