#ch: rem

[ruporas]

the blank ticket in your hand is just waiting to be filled in.

happy birthday vash! (ID in alt text)

[madaminuashitani]

Misa Amane and Rem (Death Note) 1/6 Scale Diorama Hive, Oniri Créations (2024)

[deus-ex-mona]

i hope they fight (can’t read past this point)

[collieii]

vash protecting humans bc rem sacrificed her life to save them and he didn't want it to be in vain... following in her footsteps...vash killing legato to save livio bc he doesn't want wolfwoods sacrifice to be in vain...following in his footsteps...hmm

[lemongogo]

genuinely at a loss 4 words ok

[missmisnomer]

time keeps moving on

whether you want it to or not

@remedyturtles absolutely killing it with the latest chapters of their firefight fic. The last third of ch.37 was so fuckin eerie and tense and visually rich that I couldn't NOT make some art inspired by it. I've been hankering to draw something more experimental and dark lately, and this really scratched that itch!

Thanks for The Horrors™, Rem!

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Ch.3: The New Normal

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Plus Size!Reader

MDNI

Ao3 | Previous - Next

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

Sometimes Simon still feels like he’s in a dream. The world around him seems effervescent - so ready to slip through his fingers at a moments notice. He expects to pass through Johnny, as though the man was never there, that this house and home and world will crumble and he’ll wake to that grey, cracked ceiling above his bunk in the basic training barracks again.

But then Johnny grumbles something under his breath - because the man cannot shut up, even in deep REM - and turns over, hand resting on Simon’s chest. Even in his sleep the Scot knows how to ground him like nothing else. Like a sixth sense.

He can see discomfort in his husband’s furrowed brow. The hand on his chest twitches.

Ah. He’s going to wake up to a bad day.

Simon figures he won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon, so he may as well prepare. Even he isn’t sure exactly how he knows what will be in store when Johnny opens his eyes but he knows. Every twinge and wince expertly memorized with the same precision that made him do so well in the SAS.

Speaking of, Simon checks his phone while he lines up Johnny’s pain medication. Today’s his call with Price. A monthly reoccurrence. Every third Thursday. The old man and his control issues could never let him or Johnny fully go - he insisted to keep in touch. Even if it is just a monthly call. Simon knows the real reason - that Price was worried about how two gung-ho soldiers would settle into civilian life but the man would never admit to such sentiment.

Johnny stirs, a low groan passing his lips as he tries to hoist himself up. Simon presses his hand to his husband’s back, stilling him with a gentle touch.

“Lay back. Let me ‘elp you up.” He murmurs, rearranging the pillows slowly before wrapping an arm around Johnny’s waist to pull him into a sitting position.

Johnny presses his forehead into his palm, screwing his eyes shut. A small whimper escapes his throat - the sound breaks Simon’s heart every time.

“Rate it.”

Johnny sighs, thinking for a moment. Taking stock of it all. “…Three…?”

“Love.” Simon levels a look at Johnny. One he knows will get the man cut the bullshit.

“…five.”

“Thank you.” Simon nods, turning on his heel to get the proper medication. It’s a particularly bad day, if Johnny is willing to admit to anything above a two or three. For anyone else that’s a seven easy. Stubborn bastard. Simon opens the cabinet to grab the stronger stuff - their on hand back up.

Johnny tries to take it sparingly. He doesn’t want to grow too much of a tolerance - doesn't want to get addicted. Simon isn’t too worried about that, but Johnny insists.

“‘Ere.” Simon holds out two little pills and a cup of water. “Need ‘elp takin’ it?”

Johnny grimaces but nods. Simon’s gut churns with worry. It’s rare for the man to put aside his pride. To allow Simon to carefully tip his head back, cradling it with tender care as Johnny slowly sips at the glass.

“Thanks…” He seems almost bashful despite this being easily the least compromising position Simon has seen Johnny in.

“We’ll take it easy today. Get some take out...” Simon mumbles, reaching under the bed for the heated blanket. On the worst days Johnny’s circulation in his limbs seems to nearly freeze up. How that happens because of a brain injury the doctors have never been able to say.

“Simon?” Johnny murmurs.

“Hm?”

“Kiss me?”

Simon barks out a laugh. The way he still blushes when he asks after all these years is too cute for words. Johnny can say the most salacious shit with a perfectly straight face and then when he asks for such a simple touch he’s flustered like a schoolgirl.

Of course, Simon would never deny him. It’s impossible to say no to those big baby blues.

“I’m going to let Riley out into the yard. Want t’ take a bath when I get back?” Simon offers as he pulls back, running a thumb over Johnny’s lip and hoping the medication will have kicked in by then.

”Tryin’ tae get my clothes off, Mr. Riley?”

Simon rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t ‘ave to scheme t’do that.”

Johnny clicks his tongue. “I’m no’ tha’ easy.”

“Tell that to the maintenance closet in Hereford.”

“Yer no better.” Johnny grins. “Brazil?”

“Shut it.” He makes a playful cutting motion by his neck. Johnny just laughs at him. Simon wishes, like every time before, that he could have the sound carved into his very marrow.

He clicks his tongue and Riley follows dutifully. They got her an automatic feeder long ago so she’s already had her breakfast. Really it was a necessity - back when Johnny was in too much pain the majority of the time for Simon to step away too long. She’s been so patient with them. She runs around the yard excitedly while he throws the ball a few times to get her energy out. Some outside time will tie her over until he can take her for a proper walk.

The weather’s nice today. Johnny will be disappointed he missed out on so much sun.

Simon turns on his heel to go up and get the water started. They installed an extra large tub not long after moving in. Baths together were a small luxury back in the day - cramming both of themselves into shitty hotel tubs and the base housing showers. They never quite fit - usually Simon’s leg would end up hooked over the side of the bath. Or Johnny’s. Working the man open and loose after a long, hard mission-

He stops that thought I’m it’s tracks. That’s not the line of thinking for today.

Simon settles Johnny in first thing. He’s lighter than he used to be. That extra layer of muscle worn down and away over all that time in hospital and in physical therapy. That scared Simon, at first. The idea that Johnny had become another fragile thing for him to ruin. Something he could break.

It was a selfish thought.

The water is hotter than Simon would usually like as he climbs in, but it’s based on Johnny’s preference. Plus it relaxes his muscles - the stinging in his nerves from misfires in his brain. The tremble in his hands.

Simon takes it all in, gently dragging his knuckles over Johnny’s perfect cheekbone. The tender motion no longer feels foreign, which is strange in and of itself.

“Comfortable?” He asks.

Johnny hums and nods.

They stay quiet while they sit. Johnny always seems to glow in the morning light. Angelic. If Simon were better with words he’d write poems. He tried a few times, though he’d never admit that out loud.

The closest he got were his vows (still not good enough). Nothing can encapsulate what it is to love John MacTavish.

“I worry.” Johnny sighs, pulling Simon from his thoughts.

“Bout what?” Simon turns toward him, lowering his reading glasses.

“The baker. She’s all alone over there y’know?” Johnny sighs.

Simon hums. His big hearted boy. “Y’should be worried about yourself.”

Johnny scoffs. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, cause you’re ‘opped up on goofberries.”

“Oh shut the fuck up.” Johnny laughs.

“C’mere.” Simon turns him so that Johnny’s back is against his chest, grabbing one of the extra shampoo bottles to scrub down his hair.

“Thinkin’ about getting’ rid of the mo-hawk…” He murmurs.

“Don’t you dare.” Simon blurts before he realizes, face heating at the admission. Johnny just laughs at him again.

“It’s no’ very dignified. Doesnnae scream grown-man-in-his-thirties.”

“No. But it screams Johnny MacTavish. ‘ow else am I goin’ t’find you in a crowd?”

“Fair point.” Johnny tilts his head back to look up at his husband, grinning. “More hair fer ye tae grab, though. Proper handle.”

Simon huffs. “See, now that’s just playin’ dirty.”

“Simon Jr. likes it.”

“Please stop callin’ it that. It’s been bloody fuckin’ years.”

“Never.”

Simon rolls his eyes. By the end of their exchange the water has started to get cold. He gives himself a very bare minimum scrub down - the perks of having buzzed hair - before climbing out to grab them towels and fresh pajamas.

Before all of this he’d never considered the importance of comfortable clothes. Layer-able. Soft. Breathable. Easy to maneuver in on a bad day when Johnny can hardly walk - though it hasn’t been that bad for a long while. Strange how needs change and fluctuate.

“D’you want to go downstairs or stay up ‘ere?” He asks, patting Johnny dry while he sits on the side of the tub.

“Definitely down.” Johnny nods decisively, wincing at the motion.

“A’right.” Simon scoops the man up bridal style. Back in the day he would’ve thrown Johnny over his shoulder with ease. These days he has to move slower, keeping Johnny steady so as not to jostle his head and irritate his pain. It’s been good, he thinks, to practice gentile touches for the first time in his life.

It’s easy to settle Johnny onto their large, L-shaped couch. To set him up on a throne of blankets and pillows that envelope his frame entirely. They throw on some rom-com as low background noise. It’s not long before he falls asleep, the medication finally fully taking effect and sending him into one of those deep sleeps that will last until his next dose around lunch.

Simon glances over to Johnny’s peacefully sleeping face. Lips parted, quietly snoring.

Might as well get his call done now while the man’s well and truly passed out.

“The prodigal son returns.” Price announces loudly on the other end of the phone.

“Y’talked t’ me last month.” Simon scoffs.

“Ach, well, have t’ give you some shite here an’ there. Gotta tap down that ego.” He sighs. There’s an edge to his voice despite the attempt at a playful tone.

“Y’sound tired, Cap.” Simon settles into the couch, keeping his voice low.

“You’re no better.” The old man grouses. His voice has only gotten grittier over time, though he won’t admit it to be the cigars’ doing “How’s he doin’?”

There’s always a hint of guilt in his voice when he asks. Even four years later, he can’t let it go - can’t forgive the damage done to Johnny. The best of them. None of them could ever blame him for it. There isn’t any blame to be had.

“Alright.” Simon shrugs to no one. “Bad day today but he’s been better on the whole.”

“Good.” Price sighs. There’s a creaking noise - like he’s settling back into an office chair. “You solid?”

Simon huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Got a new bakery in town. That was enough to have the area properly twitterpated all week.”

“Any good?”

“Actually, yes. Johnny’s taken a shine to the owner.”

“That boy would take a shine to a black hole.”

“Ah, you’d like ‘er. Soft little thing - that’s your whole deal innit?”

Price splutters, Simon laughs. It’s the only thing that can get the Captain off kilter. Throw a live grenade at the man and he’s steady as a rock; mention anything about his love life and he’s no better than a flustered teenager.

There’s a pause.

“Kyle is up for Lieutenant.” Price says.

Simon freezes, swallowing roughly. It’s not that he’s not happy for Gaz - hell the boy deserves it more than anyone - but his thoughts go to Johnny. How he’ll react. He’s been doing so well, these past several months. The news could make him spiral… or he could take it perfectly fine.

It’s a fifty-fifty.

“Yeah, I was worried about how Soap would take it, too.” Price sighs. “Figured I should tell you first.”

“He’ll be fine…He’ll be fine.” The repetition is more to convince himself, really. Simon shakes his head. “Might wait to tell ‘im until ‘e feels better, though.”

“Probably for the best.”

Simon hums.

“How are you doing, Riley?”

“Fine.”

“Y’sure?” Price knows him too well, Simon thinks. Knows how much the military meant to him - how much he needed it.

“I’ve got Johnny.” Simon looks wistfully at his husband, still snoring on the couch in his mass of pillows and blankets. “What else could I ever need?”

Price laughs - loud and full bodied. “You’ve become a sap in your old age, eh?”

“Who’s callin’ who old, here? You’re practically a bloody fossil.”

“Oi, watch it.”

“S’good to talk t’you, Cap.” Simon sighs, sinking further into the couch.

“You too, kid.” Price sighs as well. “I’ve got to go but… do you want me to let you know when Kyle’s ceremony is?”

Simon clicks his tongue. “Yeah. As much as I hate the pomp and circumstance.”

“We all do.”

“Yeah.”

“Take care of each other.” Simon can practically see the way Price is most likely nodding along to the words.

“Always.” Simon nods. He rests his head on the back of the couch, tossing his phone off to the side and staring up at the ceiling.

If he thinks about it too hard - about the SAS and Price and Gaz… that whole life - his chest begins to ache. The military saved him, in many ways. The military gave him his greatest love despite all the fear and strangeness that came with that.

Simon looks over at Johnny’s sleeping form.

He’s worth it.

He’s always been worth it.

Between the three month long coma - the even longer physical therapy - Johnny’s been through hell, to say the least. Truly came back from the dead. What is it, in the grand scheme, for Simon to have to make a career change in order to grasp onto this second chance?

Who knows if he would have even been able to stay in the military if Johnny died. He’d break, surely. He broke the first time Johnny crashed. Fractured upon the second. Died with him on the third.

His therapist says it’s not good for him to romanticize and aggrandize that kind of trauma. She’s probably right but there are worse ways to frame it.

They’re both broken. They’re both healing.

His thoughts drift to you as all things seem to recently. Why do you always seem so sad? Your eyes a far more tired than your age would suggest - the eyes of a woman on her deathbed and ready to go. He’s seen that look too many times in his own reflection not to know it by heart.

He’ll check on you when he goes to the shop tomorrow. For Johnny’s sake.

~~~

“Simon! How are you?” You smile wide. Always smiling. It’s not bright, like Johnny’s, though. There’s a pull at the edges. It doesn’t always reach your eyes.

“Fine.” Simon says more gruffly than he means to.

You swallow nervously. He can tell he makes you uncomfortable. Squirrelly. You don’t shrink away, though. Brave little thing, he thinks. “Uh, Johnny stay home today?”

He nods solemnly. “Migraine started up yesterday.”

“Oh, I hate that.” You frown. So genuine. “I’ve got some extra white bread. Easy on the stomach. I could-“

“That’s kind, but not why I’m ‘ere.” He cuts you off. It’s rude, yeah, but he’s seen the way you can chatter and has a point to get to.

“O-oh?” You squeak.

He steps closer, setting a little sticky note on your counter with two numbers messily scrawled across it, each labeled as his and Johnny’s. Maybe he should’ve gotten Johnny to write it. At least his twos and sevens don’t look alike. “Johnny mentioned you were woozy, when you first met. Said you have a thing.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head. “And?”

It’s defensive. Your shoulders are more square than before, lips slightly pursed and arms crossing over yourself involuntarily. It looks wrong on you, if he’s honest.

“And you don’t seem t’ ‘ave anyone around to look after you.” Simon continues bluntly. “If you need anythin’ you give us a call.”

Your expression morphs into surprise, then bashfulness. He takes it in categorically just like everything else. “Th-that’s really sweet… you don’t have to-“

“It’s only right.” He cuts you off again.

It is. You’re a young woman all alone in a new country with some sort of illness. Something chronic based on Riley’s alert. Simon might be cold but he isn’t heartless - not anymore, at least. Johnny saw to that. Even if he doesn’t know what it is, even if you’re obviously smart and independent, there are too many variables for his or Johnny’s liking.

Simon doesn’t know how to interpret the look you give him. It’s grateful. Soft in the same way as when he gave you that little cut of beef. There’s something else on the edges - not quite desperation. Not quite fear. Something that furrows your brow minutely and has your eyes flicking wildly between his.

You’re afraid of an ulterior motive.

“Take care.” Simon nods once, turning on his heel to leave.

“W-wait-“ He feels a tug on the sleeve of his hoodie. When he turns your eyes are wide, shining. “I… uh…”

“Yes?”

You bite your lip, a consistent habit if the chapped skin is anything to go by. You pull your hand back quickly, pressing it to your chest. “S-sorry, never mind…”

Simon doesn’t press. He never does. Far be it for a man like him to try to force secrets out of someone. So, with another good-bye and a nod, he makes his way out of the shop and starts toward the car to go home. At least, he should.

Instead he stops a little way down the street. Far enough he can still see into your shop without you noticing him. He watches the way you pick up the paper carefully, cradling it in your soft fingers. The way you frown at it, taking a deep breath before pocketing it and disappearing into the back of the shop. He can’t place what compels him to watch you. What keeps pulling them both in.

When he pushes the door open, he expects a quiet house. Dark and silent as Johnny sleeps his pain away upstairs. Instead, he’s greeted with the sounds of pots and pans and Johnny’s voice echoing down the hall - singing along to Celine Dion (though he’d never admit to it if asked).

“Johnny?” Simon turns to corner.

“Och, welcome home!” The Scot shoots him a grin over his shoulder.

“You should be in bed.” Simon kicks off his boots and meanders to the kitchen.

“A man cannae cook fer his husband?”

“Johnny.”

Johnny turns, grinning wide. “I’m fine, Si. Really. Trust me.”

Simon sighs, stepping forward and resting his hands on Johnny’s waist. “I trust you. Y’know that. I just worry.”

“I ken, I ken.” Johnny chuckles, planting a series of kisses across Simon’s face.

Simon sighs, leaning against the kitchen counter while Johnny gets back to cooking. So domestic. Still so strange that this is their normal.

“Kyle is up for Lieutenant.” It comes out in a jumble - more uncertain than Simon is used to.

Johnny pauses, hand flexing around the spatula in his grip. It’s so brief you could almost miss it before going back to sautéing the vegetables in the pan. “Good. He deserves it.”

Simon hums, watching, waiting for a reaction. Eyeing his husband with all the scrutiny he can muster. “Price invited us to the ceremony.”

“Aye.” Johnny nods. “We should go.”

“Are… you alright with that?”

Johnny turns, a slight furrow in his perfect brow. “Why wouldnnae I be?”

Simon searches his face - tries to gather any evidence to the contrary. He finds none. Just a genuine look of confusion at what he said.

Good lad.

“We’ll go, then.”

“Hope there’s an open bar.” Johnny chuckles and turns back to dinner. Normal, casual, comfortable.

They’re both healing.

A/N: I’m not totally in love with how this chapter turned out but I’d rather get it out and get to the next than lose motivation bc I got stuck.

[jazzstarrlight]

MD:MI Ch.3 Pg.19

N begins to enter REM where someone greets him. His mind knows Uzi wouldn't have wanted to see him unalive himself (multiple times). But all he wants is to see Uzi again. Maybe some lucid dreaming could set something up for him.

[into-the-feniverse]

Finished reading Trigun/TriMax a couple days ago and have been feverishly trying to piece together a timeline, so here’s the result of that ✨

EDIT: as of 3/13/24 this has been UPDATED

For a more detailed timeline (with vol/ch marks): google sheet

Full res of the graphic (& other resources): bit.l/trigunresources

Notes & rest of the timeline under the cut!

Edits as of 3/13/24

The detailed spreadsheet is organized and color coded! If you'd like a more concise breakdown of events/see some of my reasoning behind certain time stamps feel free to skim through that

Changed where in the timeline the Maylene and Wolfwood events happened (originally where I had placed them would have made Maylene like 6 when she and Wolfwood reunited which is NOT correct)

moved where in the timeline Knives started collecting the GungHo Guns (at latest he started in 0090 (20 years before 0110) since it's noted that Monev has been training in a cellar for the past 20 years

Moved where Knives initially tracked down Conrad (felt like it needed to happen at least a decade before July)

Changed up some of the months (personally, I don't think the Ark launched in December, since that'd put Milly and Meryl's arrival to the colony in July, which wouldn't make sense. So I placed the ark launch in October which of course offset some of the other month stand ins)

Added an earth year for when Knives and Vash are born. The explanation is I think at minimum there was at least a 2 year period between them and Tesla (since Rem was around for that whole process). I do think it was more than that, but that’s the earliest possible year I think it could have happened. Personally I’m more in the camp of 5-10 years, but def not 50 like in tristamp

Old Notes:

If you see any typos or phrase inconsistencies: no you don’t 💕 (😭)

Blue text can be completely ignored, that’s just kinda my personal preference/wild guesstimating of when “exactly” those events happened

Blue lines can also be ignored, they’re also just rough guesstimates on where exactly in the timeline these could have happened

The distance of the lines from one another doesn’t really mean anything, I started trying to follow a system to notate when things happened really close together but it was//// not consistently done ngl

Fun fact: by the time Wolfwood leaves the orphanage Meryl is 18! And she was 14 at the time of July’s destruction

Additional fun fact: Brad is 17 when he and sensei meet up with Vash in the Factioned city (which I think is absolutely RIDICULOUS), and we know this because he was 4 the one/last time he had met Vash and it’s been 13 years since

It was noted by Karen, one of Meryl’s coworkers, that she and Milly had been on assignment with Vash for about 4 months. (Might be that they were out searching for him during that time as well, but I’m choosing to interpret it as they were actually with him for that amount of time)

I’m also working on a 98 timeline for comparison (but more like just sequence of events cause I don’t think I have the patience to sift through the lore quite as much… mainly making it just to clarify how the anime delineates from the manga)

I am//::: feeling v unhinged after this and feel like it could be improved/i need to do a more thorough read, but I’m calling it quits for now before I actually go insane (but hopefully some people will find it somewhat helpful!)

Also: if anybody has any notes to add or clarifications/corrections I would be more than happy to hear them 👂

[feekins]

so I'm re-reading the manga (Dark Horse and Overhaul translations side-by-side jsyk) along with @trigunbookclub and, as I was going through ch 7 of Trigun Maximum vol 4...something struck me.

"I will send Knives to Hell" - up to this point in the manga, Vash has consistently cited that as his ultimate goal, yeah? off the top of my head, I remember him saying as such as early as ch 1 of Trigun vol 2.

which is. interesting. bc so far, Knives is the ONLY person we've seen Vash express REAL, PERSISTENT DESIRE to KILL. and call me Captain Obvious, but doesn't that go against, like...Vash's whole-ass thing??? as he says in ch 7 of Trigun vol 1:

which begs the question, Vash: what about Knives' life?

Knives (albeit indirectly) killed Rem. Vash wants to get revenge and kill Knives - even though it goes directly against what Vash promised Rem. that tells me that Vash, too, fundamentally misunderstands Rem's sacrifice. see, Rem's decision to stay behind and die doing what she could to make sure at least some of those in cold sleep would survive the Fall? it could've partially been about the survival of the species, sure. makes sense. but first and foremost, it was an act of love.

neither Knives NOR Vash has a healthy idea of what it means to love - and we see that in the terrible ways they live for each other. everything Knives does, he does with the ultimate goal of creating a world that's safe for him and Vash - even if it means working with the humans he so hates, even if it means trying to force Vash to join him. meanwhile, Vash willingly, even intentionally suffers extensive harm over the years at the hands of humans because ultimately, the only person he's set on killing is Knives. like...despite everything he says and does, it's not really about wanting to protect humans - it all comes down to getting revenge. Vash lives to kill Knives. because Knives killed someone Vash loves.

so. yeah. both Knives' AND Vash's respective ideas of love are fundamentally flawed, and their stories (individually AND together) hinge on how they navigate that.

[skyfallscotland]

Seriously Amy? It’s not like we’re not all in love with Xaden and you had him write *that* love letter? I literally could not stop smiling!!!!

I need ch 9 AND 10….this reunion might just be one of the top remixaden scenes.

Speaking of which….what are your top 3 Remi/xaden scenarios?

I'm sorry haha, I thrive on making him a perfect(ly flawed) human being, ok?

I have to choose? 😭 Haha

The reunion/following conversation/day IS one of my top three, for sure. I feel like I'm already going to forget some of their F&F scenes? I'm going to cheat and do three from both (yes, that means multiple sneak peeks so buckle up). I think it kind of says a lot upon reflection that most of my favourite scenes/quotes are from times where they're intimate but openly communicating 🥺

In F&F definitely when Rem first manifests her signet and she's crying and overstimulated and he's laughing but comforting her all the same.

I flinch, closing my eyes against tears as he turns back toward me. “Remi,” he says gently. “Look at me.” I shake my head, keeping my eyes firmly shut as the tears spill over, running down my cheeks. He laughs softly and I shake as I feel his hands on my face, pulling me close. “Angel,” he says quietly, “why are you crying?” “I don’t know,” I whimper as he holds me to him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

Maybe the scene by the lake where she threatens him?

“And Xaden?” My voice is gentle and he freezes in place, only a foot away. He turns his head, barely glancing over his shoulder. I let my hand shoot forward, pressing the dagger I’ve palmed from my corset against his spine. “You don’t ever speak to, or handle me, so disrespectfully ever again.” I tell him warningly, holding his gaze. “There are so many things I could do to you that would still leave Sgaeyl intact.”

And when he tells her he loves her 🥺

“I love you, Remi.” He skates a gentle hand across my cheek and my heart begins to pound in my chest. “So much.” He cradles my face as his onyx eyes hold my gaze. “I love you in a way I never thought possible. You’re—you’re everything to me. I’d burn the world for you.” I swallow hard, blinking back tears. I’d known already that he loved me—I could tell from his actions and the way he always held me like I was something precious. I didn’t need the words, but… “I love you too, Xaden. You’re my stars,” I tip my head back so he can kiss me again, softer this time, “my centre of gravity.” I whisper. “I love you more than anything.” He presses his forehead to mine, clutching me tightly like if he blinks, I’ll disappear. “Promise me you won’t leave.” He begs quietly. “Promise me.” “I already told you,” I whisper softly, “for as long as you love me in return, you’ll never be alone again.” It breaks my heart that he’s still so convinced I’m going to hate him—that he believes there’s no possibility that I’ll stay.

In T&T definitely the reunion and the scene that follows, for which I'm keeping the best lines to myself for now, because I want you all to experience them in context, but... (Ch9-10)

“I don’t know.” I admit quietly and his expression shutters. “We need to talk about it—about so many things.” I tell him. “I can’t figure this out on my own.” It took me a while to realise that. “But what I do know is that I love you.” I tell him firmly. “Xaden,” I cup his jaw gently, “as long as you love me in return—” “I’ll never be alone again.” He whispers, finishing my sentence like it’s a common refrain, something he’s repeated to himself over and over, and I close my eyes for a second, willing myself not to cry.

This moment in (approximately) Ch14? I think? Where they have both fucked up.

“I thank Amari every day that you gave me a second chance, because no one else will ever meet my standards. I know exactly how strong you are, Remi Sorrengail.” I bury my face in his neck, trying to force back the tears that prick my eyes. “I’m sorry.” I choke out, trembling slightly against him. “I feel like I let you down.”   “No, angel.” He says quietly, cradling me close. “You didn’t let me down.” His arms tighten around me. 

And this whole scene where Remi almost dislocates her hip, that looks like it's going to sit around Ch17-ish

“Come here.” He slides away and in a second he’s hovering over me, pulling my leg out straight. His hands gently manoeuvre me this way and that, his thumbs kneading my thigh. “Stretch it out and then we can try again.”  I huff. “I’ve killed the mood already.” I mutter. “What’s the point?”  He stops, lacing his hands together over my thigh and then drops his chin down on top of them as he stares up at me amusedly. “Bold of you to assume you know how I feel.” He challenges.  “Are you still hard?”  “Are you in charge?”  We stare at each other for a moment before my lips twitch, just slightly, and then he’s grinning, dragging his teeth over the skin at the top of my thigh as I laugh softly. “Stop being a brat.” He chides, nipping gently as he pushes himself up, crawling over me. “Follow the rules.”

And yes, in case you were wondering that's just the tip of the iceberg and I plan to ruin you all xx 😇

[vashbug]

Dropped into No Man’s Land Ch 2

Summary: Vash has a hard time trusting you. You tell him about Earth. You realize something important.

Notes:  Chapter 2 of my silly Trigun Isekai fic. Okay, that's all I'm posting for today! I think two chapters is enough for now. I hope you enjoy :)

First Chapter: Here

Read on AO3: Here

***

You let out a nervous laugh as you watch Vash's face go from jovial, to curious, to suspicious in the span of a few seconds. He's taken a cautious step back, and suddenly you feel like he's looking at you as though he's calculating the trajectory of a bullet. Vash might be all too trusting, but he's not stupid, and you're an outlier in a world he knows almost everything about.

The moment drags on for a little too long, and you can see Vash's right hand twitch slightly at his side near his gun. You know he won't fatally harm you, but you sure don't want to get shot today. You make the mistake of sparing a quick glace at the holster strapped to his thigh, and it takes a millisecond for him to take that as a threat and draw, aiming directly between your eyes.

"Hey! Woah!" You put your hands up quickly. You know he's only doing this because he feels like you've deceived him, but the sight of his gun makes your blood run cold regardless.

"What are you," He asks, "and why are you here?" He's practically growling, and if you were watching him on TV, the tone in his voice would make you shiver. Instead, you feel like you might throw up.

"I'm human, I swear!" Your mind is struggling to process what is happening, and you're having a hard time finding the right words to defuse the situation. His glare is colder than you anticipated. "I told you the truth! I swear on my life."

Vash doesn't move a muscle as he stares you down. "Explain why you know who I am, then. I need to know if you're a threat to the people who live on this planet or not."

Ah, that's what this is. He couldn't give a shit whether or not you were here for him, he just wants to make sure you won't hurt anyone. Your mind clears somewhat and you're able to speak.

"Oh," you chuckle nervously. There's no point in hiding it now, whether he thinks you're insane or not. It's better than having him shoot you. "You're sort of... famous. In my time."

For the first time in a minute he moves, slightly lowering his gun. He looks surprised. "What?"

"Theres..." You need to phrase this in a way that makes sense, and in a way that doesn't make you so embarrassed that you beg him to shoot you. "There's a book about you. Where you're the main character. It's a... western, about a gunslinger named Vash The Stampede. He wears a red coat and travels from town to town helping people. Or trying to," you smile sheepishly.

He takes a moment to think this information over. "So in your... reality or whatever, there's a book about me? That you've read?"

"Yeah, I mean, it doesn't seem like it's entirely out there that at some point our realities have crossed, given that I'm here." You feel a lot more confident now that his gun isn't pointed directly between your eyes. "Maybe the author dreamed about you or something."

"How much does it say about me?" His curiosity is obvious now, though he's still trying to mask it with suspicion. His gun is lowered all the way down now, still in his hand.

"Oh, well, it... It says enough about you that I know who you are, but you seem a little different from the Vash in the book." He seems exactly like the Vash you know, but you're trying to save face a little, in case you get any details wrong.

"Okay..." He doesn't seem entirely convinced. "Then tell me something no one else knows about me."

This takes you by surprise. You didn't expect a quiz. You have to think for a moment. "Um, I know that Rem grew red geraniums."

He looks surprised again. "That's... That's not good enough. There are plenty of people who know that." His face says he's expecting another answer.

You feel sick to your stomach. You look him directly in the eye, so he knows that you're serious. You know what you have to say, but you desperately don't want to open old wounds.

"You saw something terrible; something when you were young, back on your ship." You eye him cautiously, careful with your words. "After you saw that, Knives was asleep, and Rem told you about the train, and the ticket..." You stop, sure this is enough. You don't dare to elaborate further.

It's Vash's turn to look sick. He carefully places his gun back in it's holster and sits heavily on the ground, his head dropped between his knees. "There's only a couple people that know that," he mutters.

Your heart aches for him, but at the same time you feel relief flood through you. You slump back and sigh. He raises his head and gives you an apologetic look. "Sorry, this is just so weird. When I realized you knew me, I was worried you were an alien... here to threaten humanity... or something." He looks ashamed, his cheeks red with embarrassment. It's obvious in the way his shoulders hunch forward that he feels bad about threatening you. "If it makes you feel any better," he pulls his gun back out and releases the cylinder with a click, showing you the inside. "I'm out of bullets."

You glance between him and his empty gun with your mouth open, not sure of what to say. Then you laugh-- a real laugh--and the sound makes his face brighten. "Damn it... you really are him."

He laughs as well, and for the first time since you've met you're both smiling at each other. He takes this as forgiveness and snaps his gun shut again, hiding it away once again. The two of you sit quietly for a while, watching the fire flicker in the dark, trying to process everything.

"So..." You look up at the sound of his voice and find him tracing circles in the sand with his prosthetic hand. He looks like a little kid about to ask their parents for something they're not supposed to have. "In this book... what other things do you know?"

"I'm not sure if I should tell you," you say, trying to sound playful. Truthfully, you were worried about this. Would telling him too much alter the timeline? Was it even the same timeline?

"Please! Just a little!" He half-walks on his knees over to your side, lacing his hands together and giving you the biggest puppy-dog eyes he can manage. His big blue eyes sparkle with anticipation. "I just want to know a little, you don't have to tell me anything life-altering; nothing about the future."

You fold immediately. Damn it. "Okay, I'll tell you. But only the light stuff! I don't even know if this is the same timeline I know." He sits upright, legs crossed like a child ready for story-time.

So you tell him about his friends, mostly, steering clear of any major events. He knows Wolfwood, Meryl and Roberto already, but the timeline diverges slightly and he ends up separated from them, with plans to meet with them again after Vash makes a few stops. You don't have time to ask him for details, as he's playing 20 questions with you at break-neck speed. After a while you run out of things to tell him about, and he begins to ask about your timeline and your Earth.

"What's it really like there?" His eyes are wide, and he leans closer and closer with each answer you give him. "Is flora really everywhere? Do you really watch movies? And just how many people are in your town?" He hangs on every word you say, and the fire begins to die from neglect.

"Well, flora really is sort of everywhere, except for in the desert, but even then there's specific vegetation there." You're careful not to use the word plant in this context. "And I do watch movies... And..." You have to think for a moment. "There are about 9 million people in my city? It's one of the biggest." You have to guess the population size.

His already wide eyes grow even wider. "9 million... In just one city." He thinks about it for a moment, and then his tone turns quiet and serious. "Is it... peaceful?"

You know the answer he is hoping for by the look on his face.

Your heart throbs painfully in your chest. "Well..." You look down at your hands. "It's more peaceful than here." You give him a weak smile, and you know it's not convincing. "It's not the same as here, really. I mean, I don't think you can even compare the two. People have more peaceful days than not, depending on where you live, I guess." You quickly realize you're not cut out for this conversation; you're not sure how to explain that there are so many contradictions in your life on Earth.

You look at his face in the dying firelight. For the first time since meeting him here, you see that familiar look, the one that exposes just how old and tired he truly is. You're not sure if he's disappointed with your answer, and you don't have the heart to ask.

"But," you continue, reaching over and taking his hand in yours. You figure you know him well enough to do this much. "People are mostly good. And we all help each other when we can. There are so many people from my Earth that are trying to make it a better place. I forget sometimes, that the Earth is a good place. It is... It's beautiful." You smile at him, this time genuinely. One of your hands holds his right, the other tracing circles into his palm. You notice that his hands are bigger than yours.

His eyes search your face, and while his expression is still worn-down, something else is there. Surprise? Curiosity? You can't place the feeling.

"Rem would have really liked you," he says quietly, looking down at his hand in yours. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but she wanted the world to be a better place. She wanted everyone to get along, just like that." His voice hitches slightly in his throat.

You're surprised at the mention of Rem, and suddenly you're keenly aware of your hands, your finger tracing it's slow circles over his gloved palm. You know it's a huge compliment--an honor, really--to be compared to Rem. Your face turns hot, and you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You can feel him looking at you, but you can't meet his eyes. You have to change the subject.

"The fire..." You glance at the dying coals. "We should probably keep it going, it's getting cold." You pull your hands away so you can wrap them around yourself.

"Ah!" Vash looks as though something in him has snapped back into place as he makes a show of fussing over the fire. He seems like his usual, cheerful self as he pushes sticks and kindling into place. The fire comes back to life, and you're both bathed in the warm glow.

"Thank you," he says into the fire after a while. "For telling me about Earth. I hope you get back there someday. It sounds like a wonderful place." He turns his head to look at you as he says this, a smile that reaches his eyes spreading across his face.

He is so sincere it makes you want to cry again. You're not sure if you want to curl up in his jacket or curl up in his arms. He's still smiling at you, and you're sure he knows exactly what effect he has on people. Several thoughts cross your mind, all of them having to do with touching him or kissing him, and you have to fight to hold down your embarrassment. You decide it would be best not to act on any of them, though he's still looking at you, and he's so close...

Instead, you pick up your cracked phone and look at it once more, Idly turning it over in your hands. You concentrate on picking the sand out of the crevices, trying not to think about Vash. You look at the cracks in the screen, thinking it would probably still work if you could get it to turn on. You know you won't get a signal, but you'd at least have whatever is saved on it...

You exclaim so loudly Vash nearly falls into the fire.

"Ah! What that hell? What is it?"

You ignore him as he watches you scramble on all fours behind him, reaching for your bag. "My laptop!" You pull it out of your bag and brush the sand off of it, frantically opening it and pressing the power button. "Come on..." You plead. Please turn on.

Vash moves to sit behind you so he can look over your shoulder, obviously curious about your strange tech. His proximity is dangerous, with his chest practically pressing into your shoulder, but you don't have time to think about that.

You have to contain a shout when the screen blinks on. You can't believe it. It's working. You sort through your files and find that everything is unchanged, and this fact brings a small comfort to you. A piece of home.

But more importantly, you're looking for something. You search your downloads folder for the file. Vash watches you without making a sound; his gaze could drill a hole through your face and hands.

And there it is. Thank god for poor reception on the subway! If you really want to read something on the way home, you have to download it and send it to your phone so the poor cell reception doesn't prevent the next chapter from loading.

The fic your friend sent you, the one you didn't finish, sits in your downloads. The absurdity of it makes you laugh and nearly tear your hair out. Vash looks at you, concern and confusion written across his face.

You scan through the pages you've already read, heart thrumming in your chest.

Your hunch was correct. The events of this world, the one you've fallen into, aren't following the plot of the original. No, they're following this specific story. Vash separating from his friends, on his way to Octovern to buy gun parts; it can't be a coincidence. You've fallen into the story you were reading when the car hit you, right where you left off.

If you can't get back home, you'll need a way to protect yourself.

It doesn't seem like much, but with your combined knowledge of the original story, this is the closest thing to a weapon you have here. You might as well be able to tell the future.

This is it. This is how you'll survive.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Here's a collection of Trigun Stampede thoughts and observations I had from someone who has only seen this series, since big long posts rarely go over well lol. I'm really intrigued to contrast with the manga later and see if I get similar takeaways... I'm eagerly willing to expand on any of these if anyone is interested but for now they will exist as loose point forms! Hopefully this is coherent!

Firstly: Vash my beloved... please be nicer to yourself... please... you are so kind...

Meryl and Knives are the lead active/driving forces of the show, in contrast to most everyone else's passivity and Vash's reactivity

Meryl's influence on Roberto over the course of the story - she actually has him taking a pretty firm stance later on (which is likely the opinion he held all along, he just buried it), which brings me to the next point-

Conrad and Knives claim to be looking to the future but ignore the present - Roberto dismisses this because those who won't even save a life in front of them in the present moment won't save anyone (this is more in keeping with what Vash does)

The juxtaposition between Conrad and Luida's methods are great and I hope we return to that in the next season

I love Meryl. This is not an observation or analysis it is merely a statement of fact. :)

I wonder if we'll get more Zazie and Meryl interactions. Zazie seems to find Meryl intriguing at the very least. I also just like Zazie and think this could be a really interesting dynamic.

I would also like to see more of Rem, hopefully outside of the biased recollections of Vash and Nai... I still don't feel like I know anything about her :(

Ideals in the service of people (Vash) vs people in the service of ideals (Knives)

Most of the children in the series literally age too quickly. There's a lot to examine there.

Given the attempts to create Independent-like humans by Conrad and the rapid aging of these children... is the serum created from Plants?

Vash 🤝 Me: "Wolfwood" 🥺 (I'm kidding, I'm kidding... mostly.)

Vash and Wolfwood are not fundamentally different, as they first appear to be, but are actually quite similar in their drives (protection of others at personal cost) - the difference in their perspectives comes down to the scope of what they swore to protect (with Wolfwood's being far more limited, thus there are outsiders) and propensity to hope (Vash will act on hope without solid proof, while Wolfwood needs the proof but will jump on it if he sees it - interesting for someone who is associated with religion and faith)

Wolfwood's version of mercy is an unfortunate form of projection (aka Legato is a fucking idiot for thinking removing Wolfwood's attachments would lead him to be solely devoted to Knives. my dude, I am pretty sure that attachment plus raw survival instinct is the only thing keeping him going)

Vash: allows himself to get shot and reveals his scars / Wolfwood: >:O !!! / also Wolfwood: repeatedly takes hits either shielding people or just plain not dodging when he 100% could / Me: 😐

I wish we'd gotten some breathing room in the series. That's my number one gripe about it. Specifically, I wanted a little more time with Wolfwood to get to know him in the present before we got into him having the worst life of his fucking life in the span of two episodes... I also wanted to see a little more of this world that Vash cares about so much! I understand the manga and 98 series do this a little better so I'm excited to see that. Meryl's arc was great though!

Loved the really clever way the flashbacks are done!!! Nai is barely focused on at first, then as his character is slowly revealed, he gets the camera focus and childish behaviours more and more!!!

Huge themes of autonomy and choice. I think they're actually more the point than the whole morality aspect. It's not as important that Vash be perfectly moral and right than it is that his philosophy allows people the chance to choose and change for themselves - Knives' doesn't grant anyone that choice, and in fact, he and the people under him actively remove free will (breaking Vash's mind, the experimentation on Rollo, Wolfwood and Livio, what he did to... the Plants... etc.)

Vash is genuinely angry at Nai in a way he doesn't seem to be with anyone else. I do think a part of him can't forgive what happened to Rem or the emotional strain that comes with watching someone you love repeatedly do horrible things. I don't know if humanity could hurt him the way Nai has. The worst part is that I don't think Nai fully comprehends how badly he has hurt Vash. He looked so confused and hurt when Vash trained the gun on him for the first time. The "ominous piano playing" probably isn't meant to be ominous at all, once we see they used to play that piece together. Nai's been playing it on loop for so long. He wants his brother to come home. :(

The twins treat each other like an extension of themselves for a lot of the story, which is somewhat ironic for a couple of Independents. Vash blames himself and seeks to atone for his brother's actions, Nai thinks any differing opinion his brother has is a result of corruption instead of him being his own person. That is why it is a triumph when Vash finally asserts his identity away from Knives in episode 12, declaring himself his own person. That is why it is a tragedy when Nai would rather let his old self die, figuratively and literally, than accept that.

Nai did not want Rem dead. I stand by this strongly. His anger at her is I believe in part to justify her death in his mind.

Nai wants to return to a time of safety more than anything (the higher dimension is like an "egg", the ship's dome around the two as children, the quietness of the tree, etc.).

Tesla 🤝 Livio: products of human experimentation who really ought to be dead but apparently... aren't??? I am putting them both in my pocket and running away

[suffarustuffaru]

why otto is so pissed off at subaru (arc 8 ch 24)

hello im otto posting Again but im writing this in an attempt to understand this subject myself (and totally not as a reference for later…) and also bc some people in the fandom seemed to be confused on Why ottos so angry at the moment. but i really think the key reason why hes so mad at subaru right now comes from this: otto treasures the people he cares about far above anyone else—to the point where if he needs to make sacrifices, he absolutely will because the people he cares about (his friends in emilia camp) go First before everyone else in his mind.

like. thats ottos key reason for everything hes been doing in arc 8. all his other reasoning branches off from that—like him wanting to leave vollachia for dead and only take the people his camp cares about. otto sees the path that will keep his camp safest—ie just going into vollachia to rescue rem and subaru and then immediately getting out—and he chooses that rather than subaru and emilias more noble approach of refusing to leave vollachia and its population of 50 million people to die. otto himself is aware that his own strategy is Callous, especially after roswaal told him in chapter 24 that he agrees with ottos proposed strategy of just leaving vollachia. but otto thinks that its 1. entirely necessary and 2. he Knows that thats the optimal way to keep the emilia camp safe.

he knows that staying in vollachia and helping vincent is a massive risk to his whole camp. otto being a merchant values equivalent exchange and Hates too much cost, which is On Top of otto knowing that going out of their way to help vollachia is risking the entire emilia camp’s lives. but otto Knows subaru and emilia. and he knows that subaru and emilia are idealists at heart that will do everything they can to save Everyone, which is why despite being Extremely Unhappy about all of this, otto plays hard to get so vincent is the one who asks for their help. that way, at least the decision to help vollachia looks more like accepting the request of vollachias emperor and adding more accomplishments under their belt and Less Like just going out of their way to vollachia for no benefit at all.

otto valuing his camp above everything else is also why he creates distance between himself and julius and anastasia and emphasizes that theyre enemies. for otto, its Absolutely the emilia camp above everyone else.

then theres the whole louis situation. otto, of course, knows that subaru cares about louis Despite everything shes done.

so. essentially. i think ottos extremely pissed about subaru always going out of his way to try and be a hero because otto knows this comes at a Detriment to subaru (bc otto CARES about subaru!!! he knows subaru is WAY too selfless and forgiving and he cant agree with that!!!) and otto worries for the cost of subarus decisions, especially with the current conflict regarding louis. otto has accepted that, unlike the majority of his camp, that he has to be the Bad Guy. because in ottos mind, no one else in his camp is going to be bold enough to be the ruthless morally questionable one. he thinks its 100% necessary to play this role to minimize the costs and threats to his camp.

which is why he hasnt told anyone, despite knowing this from his dp, that louis/spica is innocent.

hes fully aware that—even though hes manipulating his own camp—louis will be more likely to be eliminated if he keeps quiet about the fact that she has Zero malice. louis being eliminated means one less threat to his camp. and otto KNOWS that subaru cares about louis and is upset at the idea of her dying (which is at least partly why otto snapped at julius in chapter 23!!), but ottos decided that killing louis comes at a far less cost than keeping her alive. because keeping her alive means dealing with the consequences of the emilia camp calling her an ally and rem and subaru recognizing her as their daughter when louis has affected So Many people. otto knows this and wants to prevent it at all costs.

otto wants her dead for these reasons. otto figures that he has to be the one walking in darkness bc he not only wants to help emilia and subaru and preserve their idealism (bc he Knows that its important to them!! its who they are at heart and he cares about them in turn bc of their kindness and goodness!!!), but otto also wants to help by being the necessary evil. because someone has to.

that, of course, wont stop otto from being pissed at subarus decisions. this also, of course, wont stop subaru from being pissed if he ever finds out otto withheld the fact that he knows louis is 100% innocent just so he can make sure that 1. the rest of emilia camp stays suspicious of louis and 2. louis gets killed. i really do think ottos questionable decisions will eventually catch up to him—because he stands in direct opposition to everything subaru stands for.

subaru wants to save everyone. he wants to have it all, even if it costs him. otto, meanwhile, chooses only who he cares about because hes not idealistic enough to believe he can have everything, and he believes that sacrifices have to be made even if its cruel. and he knows that subaru cant do that, but it still angers him because hes trying to keep subaru safe while subaru insists on trying to accomplish everything without sacrificing anyone. otto doesnt think its possible at all. but otto knows its not in subarus nature to be pragmatic.

which is why otto takes A Lot of the things subaru has been doing in arc 8 Extremely Personally. because its Very personal for otto.

[jazzstarrlight]

MD: My Immortal Ch.3 Pg.18

& finally, chapter 3 officially begins. N's memories take the lead before the rem dreamscape can take over.

[faegoddessog]

Woman in Red Ch 9/17

Chapter 9: Dreams and Bacon and Falling 

Series Summary: She's a very successful woman who can't seem to find a partner that can keep up with her. He is just wanting to find someone who likes him for HIM, not his fame. Neither of them are prepared for what hits them when she walks into that coffee shop.

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll!), sleepy maybe non-con dream sex, vaginal fingering, he licks his own cum from her, nipple licking, hickies.

A/N: In this story, I make no mention of birth control or condoms or STI's. Please, darlings, please love yourself enough to protect yourself appropriately when you have sex. <3

Message me or leave in in a comment if you'd like to be added or removed from my tagged list!

@purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef

Here is the Woman in Red Masterlist

Here is the link to all my posted work: My Dirty Little, and not so little Stories.

Chapter 9: Dreams and Bacon and Falling 

Aya rolls over, sleepy lids lifting. The light in the room is gray, hinting at the coming dawn. She comes back from peeing and sees the shape of Austin. He is on his back, one hand is outstretched to the rumpled sheets where she had lain. The other is draped over his head on the pillow. He is like a god made even more beautiful in slumber. Her eyes drift down his body. He must sleep hot because the bedspread is pushed away, his chest is bare to the air and only the sheet covers the rest of him, barley. One muscular thigh bent to the side and sticking out.  Compared to her usual cocoon of blankets, he is like a grecian painting. Her eyes are inevitably drawn to the soft curve, the swell of sheets at his crotch. Even though she is barely awake, the total sight of him sparks her. 

Standing close to the bed, she curiously reaches one tentative finger out to caress the rise in the sheets. She finds hard flesh there and glides her palm over him. A soft moan emanates from him though he neither moves nor awakens. Clearly he is deep in REM sleep. She wonders what he is dreaming about to make his cock hard. With one hand, Aya slowly pulls the sheet aside, being careful not to wake him. His cock is so pretty. Not all dicks were, but his was a masterpiece. Of course it was, Austin was a masterpiece, body, mind and spirit. Long and thick, but not alarmingly so. The blonde curly pubic hairs that nestle at his base clearly groomed. She likes that. Her mouth waters at the sight of him. She realizes as wetness seeps over her other hand that has been rubbing her vulva this whole time. It strikes her hard how she just fucking needs him right now. Not just an orgasm, but him. Carefully, she slides over him, expecting him to wake at any second. 

He is in a meadow. It is filled with dandelions and soft grass. A stream rushes somewhere nearby. Aya in a pretty little dress is running ahead of him. The hem is rising and falling with her strides, showing little glimpses of her bare ass underneath. He catches up to her, grabbing her waist. The hem of the dress rubs his naked cock. He hadn’t known he was naked until now. The dress becomes a checked blanket under him and she is above him. He guides her down on his erect cock, hands on her waist. He moans, her pussy like magic around him warm and wet like velvet. 

Aya glides up and down on him, clenching her pussy, working herself into orgasm.  Her hands are on his gorgeous chest. She figures he has to be awake by now as his hands are on her hips, pulling her to him. He starts to thrust up into her. Fuck. How is it that he feels so fucking good at every angle? Her orgasm rises in her as he starts to fuck her a little harder.  She freezes and clenches, jerks, freezes again. Hushed little uh’s pop from her throat. It washes over her, soft and quiet, like the dawn.

He is fucking Aya, holding her tight, not letting her go. His cock is washed in her rain as she moans. She is a goddess above him, awaiting his offering, demanding his seed.  He feels her clamp down on him, insistent that he give himself over to her. He obeys and thrusts harder into her. He can hear her tiny moans like they are far away. Then he is pouring himself like a fountain up and into her waiting cleft. “Take me, I’m yours,” he tries to say to her.

After she cums, his hands clamp down and he drives into her. His stomach tightens not 30 seconds later. His hips tilt forward and his ass clenches in little rhythmic jolts. His eyelids quiver. A breathy openmouthed moan slips from him with his exhale. His chest expands under her fingers. 

“Mmm’ yers,” he mumbles. Then his whole body relaxes.

She lays her body on top of his, listening to the thump thump of his rapid heartbeat. His arms automatically wrap around her as he slips back into sleep. 

She realizes now that he was not entirely awake. Good lord, even mostly asleep he can make her cum. 

She rolls off him and burrows under her covers, taking him with her. Wrapped in his arms, she has no time for her inner questions about what the hell she is doing before she is fast asleep. 

Aya is woken, hours later by the smell of bacon.  She rolls over to Austin in bed, lying on his side completely naked, and  holding a plate on a dishtowel. 

“Hey you, good morning,” he says. He takes a strip of perfectly cooked bacon between his forefinger and thumb, taking a bite with feigned casualness. His lips come away shiny from the perfectly crisp-tender texture.  She smiles, licking her lips. and reaches out to the plate. 

“Oh no no,” he  pulls it away, “I got up early and made this for you. You have to earn it, honey.” He puts the rest of the piece in his mouth and plate down, out of her reach.  

Her bottom lip pouches out in a pout accompanied by a little whine. He rubs his greasy thumb over her lip and pushes it into her mouth. She sucks it off his thumb. Damn, she had never thought of bacon as sexy until this second. 

“That’s a good start,” his eyes are fixed on hers, “now open your legs.”

Her eyebrow cocks dubiously at him. 

“You aren’t gonna…” she asks looking at his still greasy forefinger. 

He looks at his finger then smiles a lopsided smile. He hadn’t planned on taunting her with the bacon. He was trying to be all sweet and thoughtful, since she mentioned bacon last night. He had rummaged around and found some in her freezer when he woke up and prayed that the smell of cooking it in the oven wouldn’t wake her up. He loved cooking for people. He was just going to wake her up, feed her a bite and invite her to the kitchen for more when she was ready. But seeing her lying there, the covers still pulled down from when he had gotten out of bed and exposing her exquisite ass made him think of the previous night. Aroused, he had stripped and climbed into bed to wait until she woke up. It didn’t take long.

He sticks out his tongue, cleaning off his greasy digit. Aya immediately thinks of that tongue on her clit, cleaning off a different mess. She is instantly wet.

He nods at her still covered legs, pulling his finger from his mouth with a light smack.

“Do it, or no bacon for you,” he sets the plate down and  picks up a short strip, dangling it teasingly. 

She flips the covers back and all at once she feels the need to stretch her whole body. She reaches up, arching her back luxuriously and pointing her toes. As her body relaxes, she runs her hands over her inner thighs, spreading her legs. Looking at him seductively, noting that his cock is now standing fully at attention.

“MMM, yes, like that,” he rolls on top of her in a one armed plank, holding the bacon still in his other hand.  He lets his cock probe and push of its own accord. Her hips roll to meet him. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out as he finds his way into her. 

He moans, closing his eyes. Suddenly the bacon is no longer between his fingers. He opens his eyes to see her chewing and grinning ear to ear.  

‘You little…” he begins to admonish. Her hot cunt clamps down around his shaft.. “Ugh.. fuck ok, you win.” 

“Yes I do,” she grabs his ass in both hands, pulling him inside of her deeper.  How is it that she always feels so fucking good? So wet all the time. 

He lowers to his elbows, she pulls her knees up high. They move together unhurriedly, him pulling up, her hips rocking him deeper as he comes down.  His lips nibble on her neck. 

“I dreamt about you last night,” he whispers into her ear, “you had a little dress on with no panties. I laid down in the grass and you were riding me. You wanted me to worship you. It was so real and so hot.” His thrusts get a little more intense as he recalls his dream. 

“It was real,” she giggles.

“What?” his hips stop moving and he looks at her. 

“Oh Austin, that wasn’t just a dream,” she tells him, a little sheepishly. 

“Oh yeah,” he pulls back, inquisitive and intrigued. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Do you seriously not remember?” Aya asks. 

 He blinks, looking to the side like he is trying to recall. 

“I saw you asleep like some kind of greek god,” she explains cautiously, “You were all hard under the sheets. It was so damned hot. I climbed up on you. You grabbed my hips and fucked me until we both came. I’m sorry, I thought you were awake by the end, but apparently not,” she bites her bottom lip, looking up at him, eyebrows lifted. 

“Well that explains why my cock was sticky this morning, I thought I’d had a damn wet dream,” he laughs. “Don’t look like that, it’s fine. Fully awake or not, it was fuckign hot for me.” 

His head dips to hers, capturing her mouth. The mutual taste of bacon mingling on their tongues. He never knew bacon could be so sexy. Breath blows out his nostrils. His hips thrust, grinding into hers. Her hands are kneading his ass, it feels so good. He is so turned on by the idea of her fucking him in the middle of the night, by his dream Aya-Goddess being real.  

She is relieved that he wasn’t mad, she makes a mental note to make sure he is fully awake  next time. His thrusts into her feel so good. His kiss is fucking delicious. She grabs at his ass, wanting him deeper. His breath swirls along her cheeks and she moans. She pulls away from his lips. 

“Oh yeah, just like that,” she moans, clenching down on him, “fuck me ‘till you cum.” 

He growls into her neck, giving in to primitive drive, fucking her harder. She is close, but not quite there, she just rides the wave of pleasure even if it’s not peaked yet. For the first time in a long time, she is just enjoying his pleasure, enjoying being fucked, her orgasm not on her mind, just feeling good. 

“You are so hot when you fuck me,” she moans, “no one’s ever been like this.” her words are streaming from her. “I want it Austin, fucking give it to me, I want every last drop.” 

Completely spurred on by her dirty mouth. He lets himself loose like he’s not in a long time, letting his arousal flow up and around him and he pounds into her, not holding back an iota. She is tight around him, wet around him, hot around him. 

“FUUUUUUCKKK’ he yells into her neck. His primal body takes over. His rhythmic thrusts becoming deep pelvic tilts, his abs curling inward and pausing, again and again until his tight ass shudders deep against her. 

“Oh! My! Fu-king gaw-ah ahd,” he moans as his cum spurts inside her. 

Watching, like, fully watching him cum in her, skyrockets her arousal. It's as if the ‘feral’ button were pushed in her brain. She needs more, she needs it now and she will fucking get it somehow. 

“Oh my god Austin, that was fucking hot.” she moans, writhing under him, trying to get friction from his still hard cock. 

He pulls out, squirming in overstimulation. He is smiling, thinking she is just teasing him. But when he sees her shaking lips, her flared nostrils and the intensity in her eyes; he knows what he has to do.

“Oh,” his fingers dive toward her gyrating hips, finding her sloppy, wet entrance. 

“You want it hard?” He says sliding into her.

“Oh god yes,” she moans, not sure if she is referring to his fingers or his question. 

He slams into her over and over, finger-fucking her. His palm is slapping against her vulva. His cum splattering on her inner thighs, her low belly, and his forearm.  

“My clit” is all she says.

Without thinking, he dives his mouth to her clit. He loves sucking a woman to orgasm.  As he closes his mouth on her, it dawns on him that what he is tasting is a mix of them, his own cum with her slippery fluids. He’s never done that before, it pings something carnal in him. Ever curious in nature, he dips his tongue into her lush entrance next to his fingers.  Creamy fluid covers his tongue, salty and a little bitter. He hadn’t expected it to turn him on like this. Moaning, he licks his cum up from her lips, drawing figure-eights around her clit. 

He is voracious for it, for her to cum all over his face. 

His obvious arousal at tasting himself on her is driving Aya into a frenzy. She grabs his head and gasps, sealing him to her. She grinds her pussy onto his face, his gorgeous face. His fingers and tongue lash at her. Her clit is superbly tormented in the vortex of his mouth. It’s more that she can bear.  She strains, mashing bundles of his hair into her fists, locking her thighs around his head, arching her back. Her whole body stiffens. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she worries that she might break his neck. She can’t stop it though, can't stop the freight train that is her orgasm. The roaring, arching, shaking, moaning mess that might as well have turned her into mist, sublimating her very bones with how hard it smashes into her. 

Shaking, she releases his head from her hands, from her legs. She tugs him up, kissing him, tasting them both on his wet lips. 

“Good morning to you too,” she finally says. 

…..

Austin does, finally, get around to finishing up breakfast for her, Bacon and eggs, with fresh fruit. They spend the day on the beach. It’s just a few steps down the embankment of rocks, through the gate and boom they were there. It’s mostly private, at least today.  They play in  the surf, sit in the sand, put sunscreen on one another, drink and talk about loads of nothing and everything.

It’s a relaxing day. 

On the way back to the house in the afternoon, they see Bee on the deck of her house holding Kato. She waves to them. 

Aya leads Austin to an outdoor shower on the side of the house. The path in is smooth river rocks turned on edge, providing a reflexology-like massage to the bottoms of their feet.  A curving stone wall makes it feel private, though it’s still outdoors.  Plants are strewn throughout in little niches and there is a matching stone bench. The open side is cleverly exposed to catch the afternoon sun. 

“Of all my showers, this is my favorite” she says, stripping out of her swimsuit. The sun is slanted just perfectly that it hits her naked body. She turns on the water. She squeals, but stays in the cold spray until it warms up. Austin watches as her nipples stand at attention in the cold water. His cock starts tenting in his swim trunks. He had been able to keep his dick under control all day; despite picking her up and tossing her into the waves, despite watching her rise wet, dripping  and laughing from the water, despite rubbing sunscreen into her back and wrapping her in a towel. But now that she is naked in front of him, even with cold water splashing on him, he can no longer keep it together. Her tits are so gorgeous. The drips of water from her hard nipples catch the sunlight. They look delicious and he just wants them in his mouth. 

“I believe we have a rain check to cash in? No? And since this is your favorite shower.” He unties and drops his shorts, not waiting for her to answer.

She was hoping that he’d take matters into his own hands soon. She’d been good all day! Lightly flirting, but in a way that is completely comfortable. She knew the possibility of paps with telephoto lenses or drones. Even though she doubted it, she tried to be vanilla and wait until they were back here, maybe even wait until after dinner. He had promised to cook ‘something’ for her. But when he is naked in front of her, she breaks the silly resolve to wait. She also knows her outdoor shower is safe from prying eyes.

He presses himself to her with a big breath. His mouth is insistent against hers at first. Then it travels over her  jaw and down her neck, stopping to administer little nips. He backs himself to the bench, pulling her towards him. 

Standing, the warm water runs down her back. He gatherers her tits in his hands, his thumbs grazing the tight, hard nipples. She shudders under his touch. His full lips curl up as he lifts his eyes to hers. She rakes her fingers through his now wet hair. He gently licks the droplets of water off one taut point, then the other, pulling each into his mouth. He sucks lighty, flicking with his tongue. 

She moans above him, the zings to her belly make her gasp. 

“I know this is weird, but can I give your breasts a hickey… or two? I’m feeling really oral right now, and I just want to suck on you,” he asks, always a sweetheart, is Austin.

“Yeah, sure,” she nods. She hasn’t had a hickey in years and never on her breast. She also totally understands ‘feeling oral’. 

His smile is full of boyish delight. He starts exploring the globe of her left breast with his tongue. He kisses and licks to find just the right spot. He lands just south of her nipple. He pulls her tender flesh into his mouth, sucking hard. His finger rolls the nipple on her other breast in equal, but different, measure. She moans, hips bucking just a little. She grabs his head, pulling him to her, gasping.  He pulls away with a pop, looking at the swollen red spot where his mouth had been, a smile plastered on his face. 

He has a thing for hickeys, for marking his lover. He only does it in discreet places like inner thighs and breasts and only with permission. Once he even left a pretty chain of them under his girl's bum, on the backs of her thighs.  He has never really admitted it outright. It’s easy to guess if you witness it, just how much he loves to see the little purple bruises he leaves.  It makes his cock so very hard. Very few know this about him and Aya is now at the top of this very short list. 

She is sucking breath through her teeth, looking at him with pure lust. 

“You like that?” he asks with a smile.

“Oh yeah, do the other one,” she presses her chest toward him. 

With a sly smile, he turns to her other breast. He licks and sucks at her nipple first. She feels a tell tale tingling inside her, wetness swelling her inside. Then he is pulling the skin under her nipple into his mouth, He moans as he sucks, sinking his teeth in just enough. 

“Hmmm,” he leans back, admiring his handiwork, “ needs more.” He dives back, sucking and biting. 

Aya is outright groaning now, dry humping the air and grasping at his head. By the time he is finished, there is a string of bruises adorning the lower half of each breast.  

She looks down, tongue on her lip. He looks up through his eye lashes. For the space of two heartbeats they pant at one another. There is no mistaking just how much each of them had been holding back out on the beach. 

All at once, he is standing, forcing her back through the stream of water. With a grunt, she hits the wall opposite them. In one smooth motion, he lifts her leg, draping it over his forearm. She reaches for his hardness, steering it toward her waiting opening. He drives in deep. They freeze, eyes locked. His back arches, sliding nearly out. Then plunges in again, glues flexing and knees slightly bent. 

She is caught in his blue eyed gaze, pinned to the wall in more ways than one. He goes at her again and again, pausing a beat or two between each luscious thrust. Only breath passes back and forth between their lips. She tightens around him. He abandons the pause, going harder into her. Her eyes start to flutter closed and her head begins to tilt back, pleasure mounting in her

“Uh uh,” His thumb and fingers close over her jaw, pulling her head back down, “right here.”  She  obeys, staring into his lustful deep pools as he dips in and out of hers. His own jaw tightens as he starts to fuck her in earnest. 

She struggles to keep her eyes open and on his as she begins to climax, cinching down as hard as she can on his cock. Her mouth drops in a silent scream as her back arches. Sounds seem to be antithetical to the lust filled moment. 

His breath is shuddering in and out of him as he rides out her orgasm, his control tight. Once her spine jerks forward, he lets loose. His cock pulsing inside her, his hips shaking, driving his cum deep with soft grunts. His hand never left her jaw, fingertips digging in as he peaks. His eyes never left hers. 

She pulls him into a deep kiss as they come down. 

“Well that was worth the wait.” she says as he slides from her. 

“I think you’ll always be worth the wait, Aya,” Austin can’t stop falling into her eyes.  Falling, falling, falling. 

She sees it, his descent. She knows deep down it’s happening right in front of her eyes. She pointedly ignores it. She should break eye contact, but he’s just too damn pretty.  What she doesn’t realize is that seeing him plummet means she too is on the precipice. 

…..

“What do you have going on this week?” Aya asks, leaning on the counter as he cooks in her kitchen. 

“Um, not much, I have some scripts to read, why?” he says, 

“Do you want to read them on the airplane and come with me to Montenegro?” she offers, like it’s ‘shall we do dinner?’

“Hmmm, is it work or pleasure for you?” he asks. 

“Pleasure, I have a place there,” her answer is off hand. She honestly hadn’t been planning on asking him, wasn’t sure why she was asking him now, only that spending time with him felt good. 

“Um yeah, ok. Let me call my people, traveling for me is a whole thing with airports and getting recognized…” he wants to go, but is not sure he is up for the whole rigamarole of travel. 

“No need, I have it all arranged. Just pack a bag and bring your passport. I’ll pick you up at 8 pm on Wednesday. Do you think you’ll need a bodyguard?” 

“What? No, no it’s not like that, just the airports usually have a service that will have security keep people at bay,” he explains. 

“Yeah, I wouldn't worry too much about that,” she pulls him into a kiss, ‘trust me, it’ll be fine.” 

It isn't until he is back in his car driving towards home the next day that he wonders what she meant by having ‘it all arranged’. Did she just assume he would say yes? 

He calls his people anyway, trying to cover his bases. They inform him that there is no commercial flight scheduled to Montenegro that evening. He is intrigued but decides to trust Aya.