#even though it’s not your suffering you are elevating. you are making yours worse

[keikoayano]

Thinking about how all the remaining men are suffering. Thinking about how Eurylochus trying to elevate just a bit of that suffering (hunger) is the final nail in the coffin of their journey. Thinking about Penelope’s voice singing “Let me take the suffering from…” and her voice doesn’t finish, but then Odysseus is pointing towards his crew. A tragic, heartwrenching decision that in some ways could be seen as him “taking” their suffering by choosing to end their lives

[seniaasaysstuff]

hopelessly devoted; ryomen sukuna (og form) x fem! reader.

not culturally accurate; will have aspects from both chinese culture and japanese culture tho it is based in heian era where sukuna was at the height of his power.

smut next chapter🤭

Ryomen sukuna, the king of curses. This name was known all around and was reasonably feared. People worshiped the man as if he was the second coming of Jesus. Those who were trying to curry favor with the man sent him beautiful women, including many of their daughters as concubines for sukuna.

Sukuna gladly accepted them and frequently visited the beauties. The beauties were all focused on pleasing sukuna and wished to birth him a son and elevate their status to a consort. Sukuna was like a deity to them and they believed pleasing him would bring their family luck and glory.

Now on the day, your parents were about to send you off to emperor sukuna’s palace as a concubine, your vicious sister born from concubine fed you poison in the guise of a nourishing soup.

Your concubine birthed sister thought if you were killed she would take your place and become emperor sukuna’s concubine. She didn’t anticipate that you would wake up and act like nothing happened.

In the modern world, You were drunk and ran out of the club. You didn’t expect to run onto the road in your drunken stupor and get hit by a truck.

When you woke up, you were assaulted with memories of the body you were inhibiting. You felt enraged at the way that low-birth sister and that wretched concubine pei treated you.

Since you were from the principal line, the rest of your concubine-born siblings were envious of you. You received love from your parents, and grandparents and it made them filled with jealousy.

You hated the way the body you were inhibiting was so naive. She treated the siblings like they were all birthed by the same mother. She gave away her clothes, her hairpins, and everything they wanted. You made up your mind that you were about to make these ugly bastards suffer.

You were about to enter the palace as a concubine today and you made up your mind you were going to grab the emperor’s golden thigh and make all that made the previous owner of the body suffer face a fate worse than death.

First, you had to see what kind of golden fingers you had. Since you were a gen z kid who read ancient-era novels and watched anime and Asian dramas you knew you could stir some shit up and wreak havoc.

When you heard from your parents that the man you were being gifted to as a concubine was sukuna who had quite a monstrous appearance it felt like you had hit a jackpot.

Ryomen sukuna was someone you were quite familiar with. Considering the simping you had done when the original designs of his body were released, you were very excited to see the man in the flesh.

Night time was approaching and it was time for you to be sent off in a carriage to your new home with your entire family seeing you off. Your parents and grandmother had tears in their eyes while your grandfather looked sad.

You could tell all of them didn’t want to part with you but this was something that had to be done and you understood that. The carriage reached the palace and you were ushered off to your tiny estate. You brought five dowry maids along with you. You were bestowed with two eunuchs and a maidservant.

You were given a rosewater bath and the maids dressed you up in a sexy negligee and put a huge ass wedding dress on top of that. A huge veil was placed, making you unable to see anything. The maids then left you alone in the room.

The room was dark and the only glimmer of light was from the candles.

You were squirming in excitement. You were about to meet one of your favorite anime characters even though his fraudulent behavior was questionable at times you loved him.

You yawned, feeling bored out of your mind.“When is sukuna coming? Like this is so boring. Been waiting for that guy for so long for fuck sake,” You grumbled loudly. You weren’t aware of your surroundings and failed to listen to the footsteps of someone approaching.

A deep chuckle was heard. “Did I just hear someone calling out for me?” The voice crooned, making you squeak.

“Aww is my concubine shy?” Sukuna spoke in a low voice. You shyly nodded.

“Words love.” He softly said. “M’not shy,” you replied, your face covered in a red hue.

Sukuna removed the veil from your face and gently caressed your cheek. “Your father didn’t lie when he said you were beautiful.” He whispered as he softly tilted your chin upwards.

You gasped, “You think I’m beautiful?” Hearing one of your favorite characters say that you’re beautiful was just sending butterflies down your stomach.

You huffed, “Look at you. You're hotter than anyone on this planet well… except Toji but he doesn’t exist right now.”

You added as a second thought, “Well if you have two dicks and we can count that stomach mouth of yours then you are the best man alive.”

Sukuna let out a deep chuckle. “And pray tell how do you know about my body anatomy?”

You cursed, you should stop babbling. “I have dreamed about you a lot actually.” “Well, shall we make your dreams a reality?” Sukuna teasingly spoke. You nodded your head.

Sukuna wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled your face close to his. He rubbed his thumb on your lower lip. You were feeling a bit mischievous so you stuck your tongue out and licked his thumb.

“Sweetheart just say the word I can give you another thing to lick,” He smirked. “Oh I’d love that,�� You winked at him.

“You minx,” He growled. He picked you up and sat you down on his lap, so now you were facing his humongous chest.

His stomach mouth decided to be cheeky and licked your hand, making you jump. “Pfft-” Sukuna chuckled. “Hey! It wasn’t funny!” You whined, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

Sukuna kept looking at you with that enamored look in his eyes, it made you feel shy and it made you want to run for the hills. It felt like the man was slowly getting obsessed, and if that obsession grew even deeper? You wouldn’t be able to escape, not that you wanted to.

You caressed his cheek. “You’re a beautiful being sukuna ryomen and being able to meet you was a pleasure,” you whispered.

“C’mere you sweet sweet vixen,” he spoke as he grasped your chin, tilting your head upwards so that you could look at him. His one pair of hands gently ran all over your body. You ground your body against his thigh, a feeling of bliss washing over you.

You gasped as his hand brushed over your waist, slowly and steadily making his way towards the inner of your thighs. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against your lips. His tongue brushed yours, he tasted like sweet sake.

“My sweet girl, you are a treasure,” Sukuna breathed out as he broke away from the kiss, a smile etched on his face as he glanced at you.

[reiding-writing]

HURT/COMFORT

/həːt/ˈkʌmfət/ [GENRE]

receiving comfort from another person after or while suffering injury, illness, or a traumatic experience.

main masterlist || fluff || angst || series

incessant insomnia. | 2.4k

The BAU had just finished a case across the country in California, and were now finally on the jet to fly back home, needless to say, everyone was absolutely exhausted and very ready to get some shut eye during the 5 hour flight. Trouble was, Spencer couldn't sleep, even though he had managed to bag the jet's sofa, which was arguably the comfiest place on the plane.

WARNINGS | mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of child death, mentions of touch-starvedness, no use of y/n

respite. | 5.6k part two. | 1.7k

Dealing with addiction withdrawals is a horrible experience. Having to sit at a desk for eight hours and act like they weren't happening was even worse. If only someone would just ask him if he was okay.

WARNINGS | Details of addiction withdrawals, Mentions of Spencer's kidnapping, Needle mentions, Vomit mentions, Thoughts of self-induced bodily harm, Inaccurate portrayal of therapy and legal loopholes, Mentions of touch-starvedness

deprivation. | 2.8k part two. | 1.0k

Spencer needs support. He needs it. But he for the life of him just cannot reach out for it himself. And after one particular case, you make an effort to try and quell is emotional rampage.

WARNINGS | germophobia, self deprivation, touch deprivation, emotional breakdown

migraine massages. | 2.7k

Migraines are the worst. They hurt and they stop you from doing absolutely everything. Spencer was silently pleading for relief from his own body, and you plan to fulfil those needs.

WARNINGS | details of migraines, vomit mentions, mentions of spencer's addiction, mentions of relapse

familiarity. | 3.7k

Spencer's nightmare leaves him reeling with a panic attack, not helped by the unfamiliar environment of his hotel room. in his desperation he does the only think he can think of, call you.

WARNINGS | details of spencer's kidnapping, needle mentions, mentions of bodily harm, detail of panic attacks

malfunction. | 3.2k

You and Spencer end up staying late to finish some paperwork after a case, when you finally vacate into the elevator to leave it breaks down, revealing some secrets harboured by both of you and strengthening your relationship in the process.

WARNINGS | claustrophobia, nyctophobia, arachnophobia, mentions of spencer's bullying

circles. | 2.7k

you keep your aimless repetition of the most arbitrary things under wraps from the team for fear of them thing you’re ‘weird’. when spencer walks in on you doing it however, you’re forced to have an uncomfortable conversation with him

WARNINGS | reader is insecure, reader has echolalia, self deprecation

tbc...

reblogs are appreciated <3

[faith369]

I'll never leave you love

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (use of love)

Warning: angst, comfort, mentions of death and violence, panic attack (reader), nightmares

Summary: Ghost comes home finding you inpanic and comforts you

Your eyes were trained on the TV, trying not to look at the time and distract yourself from the anxiety that creeped up your spine, but the pounding of your heart inside your chest made it hard to concentrate on the voices coming from the TV. He wasn't home yet. He should be though, you gave in and looked at the clock he should be home for since 6 hours. He's never been late, and he'd write you if he were to be. The anxiety that has been trying to creep up on your body has made its way to your head. Dark, unlogical thoughts start pestering your mind like a house infested by bugs. What if he's lying somewhere in the field, the coldness of death replacing the warmth of his body? What if he's hurt with no one in sight to care for his wound? What if he's being tortured, his screams of pain not reaching ears that care to help? Your heart beat spiked you couldn't imagine losing him, but your head did just that, turning the pestering thoughts into the one clouding thought that he wouldn't come home to you.

Simon watched the numbers of the elevator go up before finally reaching his desired floor. He was supposed to be home a few hours ago, but his flight got delayed, and his phone died on the way back. He thinks about the time when he wasn't keen on going home, but now he often catches himself looking at the time on missions, counting down the hours until he gets to go home and see you again. Trying not to wake you, he carefully turns the keys. The flat is quiet, and all lights are turned off. The adrenaline of the mission is finally washing away, being replaced by tiredness instead. As he slips off his boots and lets the weight of his duffle bag hit the floor, he perks up to hear quiet sobs coming from the living room.

"Love," you turn your head, a wave of relive washing through you when you see Simon, but your mind didn't fully adapt, not even as you get up and grab his shirt, having to feel that he's there. "Hey, what's wrong?" Simon hears your rapid breath and pulls you against him. "It's fine, love". He was worried, and not knowing what happened made it even worse. Violent sobs shake your whole body as you cling to Simon, scared that if you let him go, he will disappear. His hands go to wipe your tears, only now noticing the dark circles under your eyes. "I thought something happened, t..thought you wouldn't come home." Simon knew you were worried sick every time he left for work, even though he often downplayed the dangers of his job. He didn't know just how badly your head makes up scenarios when he's gone or how often you wake up in the middle of the night sweat clamming onto your shirt, waking up from a dream that feels like a glance into the future where he's gone, and you're left with dog tags and a skull mask splattered with blood that for ones isn't from his enemies but rather himself. Simon's' brows furrow. He hates it. He hates the way that he is at fault for worrying you, especially when you almost faint in his arms. "Love, let's go lay you down, and then we'll talk okay".

He doesn't wait for your answer before scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to your shared bedroom, and carefully laying you down on the soft mattress, which bends under his weight as he lays down next to you, immediately pulling you onto his chest. "You don't have to worry about me, love; I'll always come back home to you. You're the only reason I want to go home and stay alive on that field. I think about you when I try to find sleep in safe houses at night, and what pains me more than to be away from you is to think that you suffer under it, so I swear I come home even if that would mean digging myself out a grave.

"Promise" your voice was almost a whisper, the exhaustion of crying and the lack of sleep catching up to you

"promise"

Simon wrote Price that night, after you slept in, taking some time off.

A/N: Follow, like and repost. Requests are open

-Love Faith <3

[hyperfixation-throwaway]

All Quiet at the Batcave (one-shot fic)

“I said quit it.” Jason snarled, wiping the sweat off his forehead on the back of his hand. With the other hand, he tested the bike’s brakes again.

Better, but still not nearly responsive enough.

A perfectly pleasant Friday night and he was stuck on the lower level of the Batcave tending to the Batcycle, performing “bat-repairs”.

I could be out with Roy and the others, on casual patrol or getting hammered at the boulevard, or both at once. A rare night off and this is how I’m spending it.

To his great annoyance, he heard Damian—who had rolled the Batcomputer’s chair right up against the railing—tear out yet another page from his notebook and scrunch it up, “But why does it bother you so much? It’s just paper, Todd.”

With that, another paper ball came sailing from above, this time hitting Jason’s shoulder.

Jason sucked in a deep breath. He had been making some good headway in his anger management sessions lately and he was NOT going to let Damian cost him that progress.

“You’re right, Damian.” he said through gritted teeth, “It’s just paper. Although doesn’t wasting it go against your deeply environmentalist beliefs?”

The youngest child snorted, “It’s hardly considered a waste if it fulfills my purpose.”

Deep breaths, Jay. Deep, deep breaths.

“Yeah? Well, I have my own purpose to fulfill.” Jason nodded towards the Batcycle, “The calibration’s been off since Bruce crashed it last week and he hasn’t stopped complaining since. Let me finish up in peace and you can continue turning the cave into your private paper ball-pit or whatever.”

“You know Bruce is only making you do this because he wanted an excuse to see you, right?” Tim’s voice piped up. The Red Robin had draped himself across the brown leather couch next to the Batcomputer, holding his phone barely an inch away from his face.

Bruce had been saying he’d replace that couch for years now—actually, since the days Jason was Robin. But for some reason or another, the couch remained unmoved and unchanged. Hell, it technically even outlived Jason.

Jason scoffed, “I’m touched. Though if that were really the case, wouldn’t he be here?” He scanned the floor for the rag he was using, only to remember that he had draped it over his shoulder earlier.

“Father said Catwoman suddenly found a new lead on the Malkovich files.” Damian grumbled, “How convenient that she—of all people—managed to uncover such critical information right when he was starting to get desperate for it.”

Jason and Tim’s chuckles echoed lightly throughout the cave.

“That explains why he didn’t take you along then.” Jason grinned, “A brooding kid in bright tights trailing behind you doesn’t exactly help set the mood.”

His youngest adoptive sibling only glowered at him in response and then proceeded to storm away in a huff.

“Come on, Ian!” Jason called after him, “You realize that by brooding even harder, you’re just proving my point, right?”

Still no response, only the whoosh of the cave’s elevator doors closing.

Tim sat up on the couch, stretching his arms above him, “Is he genuinely upset? Or is he just being a Wayne?”

“A little bit of Column A, a little bit of Column B.” Jason shook his head, “But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check on the kid… you know, for the sake of the petty criminals he might take his anger out on tonight.”

Tim leaned over the railing, “Ah, are you already done with the Batcycle?”

“Not even close.” Jason laughed, “But the Batman has suffered worse ordeals than missing his Batcycle for a couple nights. Oh hey, toss me Damian’s notebook, I can do the polite thing and leave Bruce a note.”

***

“Damian?” Jason knocked, “You there?”

No response.

“If you’re bored, the three of us could go on patrol.” Tim called out, “We’ll even pass by the animal shelter on our way to Main Stree-”

A muffled, “Shut up!” came through the door, “Would you both just shut the fu-”

“Hey! No swearing. At least, not for you just yet.” Jason banged on the door, “Now open up. You heard what Alfred said about damaging even one more door this month and I’m not taking any-”

To their surprise, the lock turned and the door swung open immediately. This was a most unexpected development considering that this standoff didn’t end with a chase through the east gardens this time.

But the even bigger surprise was the state they found Damian in. They had expected to find him all suited up and halfway out the window. Instead, they were greeted by teary eyes and a sniffling nose. At least his eyebrows remained as they usually were: set in a deep frown.

“Go away.” he simply hissed, “Clearly, I have no intentions of sneaking out tonight. So you can leave me alone.”

“Whoa, not so fast there, Mini B.” Jason stuck his arm out, stopping the door from slamming shut, “How are you supposed to shred my apology if you don’t listen to it first?”

“I don’t want an apology.” Damian roared, “l want you gone.” he slammed the door on Jason’s arm again, even harder this time.

“Damian,” Tim reasoned gently, “if you give us at least a vague idea of what’s wrong, it’ll put us at ease and we’ll leave you alone knowing that you’ll be able to handle it—whatever it is.”

The door creaked as it widened once more.

This time, Damian couldn’t bring himself to look them in the eyes “But it’s… embarrassing.” he mumbled through gritted teeth.

“More embarrassing than when Jason spilled coffee on Wonder Woman?” Tim raised an eyebrow.

“That was years ago.” Jason snapped at Tim, “On the other hand, your little Twitter mishap was only last week.”

Tim narrowed his eyes at him, “Carefully consider what you’re about to start here, Todd.” he warned.

“Me? But you’re the one who brought up-”

Damian let out an exasperated, “Ugh!” and moved to close his door once again.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jason stopped it again, “Sorry, bud. You were saying?”

“Never mind.” he answered coldly, “It’s not like it would make a difference anyway.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” Tim rebutted, “Just try us. There’s no harm in that, right?”

Damian sucked in a deep breath before letting all his words out at once, “Every day it feels like this family gets smaller. Grayson’s in Bludhaven, you’ve got your sorry excuse of an apartment, even Tim’s spending more nights at the Tower. And now-“

He slowed down, his chest deflating further, “Now it seems even Father is losing interest in taking me out on patrol. How long until everyone just… forgets me?”

Jason and Tim met each other’s gaze silently. They had always known that Damian didn’t always mean the harsh words he threw their way, but who knew he cared this deeply about them?

About Dick? Sure. He and Damian have a bond so solid that on most days, not even Bruce can compete. But Jason—and by the looks of it, Tim as well—had no idea that Damian would even notice their absence, let alone miss having them around.

Jason finally broke the silence, “I’m only going to say this once,” he gently placed a hand on the young boy’s shoulder, “but no matter how busy we all get, no one’s ever going to forget about—or replace—the only Blood Son.”

He lowered himself onto one knee before continuing, “Nothing is going to change that fact. Not people moving out of the manor, not people finding new teammates, and not even patrol dates with Catwoman. Hell, not even if Bruce somehow married Catwoman. You are Damian f**king Wayne! You’re our little brother—whether you like it or not. And you’ll never be rid of us.”

Bursting into tears, Damian threw his arms around Jason’s neck—yet another unexpected, but welcome, development of the evening.

As Jason held him close, he felt Tim join in the hug from behind, “I always knew you were a big softie.” he chuckled in Jason’s ear.

Jason laughed, “You better savor this moment, Chalamet. Because it’ll be your last once I’m released from this hug.”

“Then bring it, Todd.” came the smug response.

***

Epilogue

Bruce practically dragged himself out of the Batmobile, his left shoulder still sore from the explosion.

As he took his gloves off, he was surprised to find the cave deserted. No yelling or punches to be heard, just the low steady hum of the Batcomputer.

“Boys?” he called out, but his voice was still hoarse from the tear gas earlier. Clearing his throat; he called out again, louder this time, “Boys?”

But only his own booming voice echoed throughout the cave and returned to him.

He spotted Jason’s tools in a neat pile near the Batcycle. Approaching it, he found not one, but two notes.

The first one—clearly in Jason’s handwriting—read: Sorry, will finish later. Something came up.

The second one—this time in Damian’s handwriting—simply read: Finished homework. Gone to Bludhaven and will return shortly.

Bruce smiled to himself. A visit to Bludhaven doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but maybe a shower and a nap first.

[ithoughtitwasobvious]

In Sickness And In Health

Rating: Explicit (18+ Mature Readers Only) 

Pairing: Hunter x Female Jedi! Reader  

Words: 3k

Warnings: Here be smut! PIV Sex, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it before you tap it folks), mentions of sickness. 

Summary: After coming back from a mission on an ice planet, you begin to not feel quite like yourself. You are determined to suffer through this mysterious illness alone, however your clone sergeant/lover has some other ideas about how to make you feel better.  

Tags: Hunter x Female Jedi! Reader, Smut, L-Bombs, Porn with feelings, PIV Sex, Thigh Riding, Shower Sex, Reader is sick, Hunter is determined to take care of her, in more ways than one.  

As you climbed the steps leading back into the Marauder that night, you could already tell that something was off. You’d been running a job for Cid with the boys that led you to a remote ice world. The job had been simple enough; retrieving information from a contact of one of Cid’s mysterious clients on their hidden base in the outer rim. In fact, it had been one of the less eventful jobs that the squad had pulled off in quite some time. You were all thankful for the reprieve, and excited to return to Cid’s for a bit more down time before the next inevitable death-defying assignment turned up.   

At first you attributed your sore throat and abnormally hot skin to the change of temperature from the freezing tundra to the climate controlled air of the Marauder. However as Tech put the ship up and made the jump into hyperspace, your symptoms only got worse. By the time you emerged from the fresher after your designated turn in the shower your whole body shook from chills. You layered a spare set of Hunter’s blacks overtop of your normal underclothes, yet still couldn’t seem to get warm. Your body swayed uneasily as you stumbled through the fresher door, completely foregoing the cockpit in favor of entering Hunter’s private quarters. It was very uncharacteristic of you to not visit with your squad to discuss the day’s events or what your next moves were, however the insistent pounding in your head took precedence.  

The door slid shut behind you, plunging the space back into darkness as you crossed the small room and climbed into Hunter’s bunk on pure muscle memory. Just as you were pulling the blankets up over your shoulders, you heard the whoosh of the door sliding open once again. A beam of artificial light briefly cast across the bed, causing you to hike the blankets up even higher to shield your eyes. The door shut again just as quickly as it had opened and, before you knew it, you felt the familiar dip in the mattress as the weight of a larger body settled behind you. One of his strong arms wound around your waist to pull you closer as you shifted backward to meet him, welcoming the added warmth of his body heat.  

“Cyare,” Hunter’s gruff voice beckoned to you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “What’s wrong? You haven’t said a word since we got back to the ship.” 

“I’m fine,” you lied, attempting to hide the way that your voice cracked as the words crawled their way up your throat. “Just tired.” 

Hunter let out an exasperated sigh.   

“Well, your heart rates’ elevated. I can hear it beating out of your chest. And you’re hot to the touch, even though you feel cold judging by the double layer of my blacks that you’re wearing and the way your teeth keep chattering.” You immediately locked your jaw in an effort to stop it from shaking. Hunter chuckled quietly behind you in the pitch blackness. 

“When are you going to learn that you can’t hide from me cyare?” You flipped over to face him, choosing to burrow into his chest in favor of responding. Another shiver coursed through your frame as his arms encircled you, bringing you impossibly closer. 

He dropped an affectionate kiss to the top of your forehead as his hand rose to gently brush a few stray strands of hair from your face. Even with his sense of sight taken away he could still see you perfectly.  

“You don’t have to be alone,” Hunter reassured you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m here for you, always. Just let me help you.”  

“It’s not a big deal,” You grit out. “I think I just picked up a virus while we were out there on the surface.” 

“I know,” He murmured into your hair. “Tech said that might happen. I’m sorry. I forget sometimes that you’re not like us, with our genetically engineered immune systems and all.”  

“It’s s’okay,” you reassured him. “Just been awhile since I was sick…I’m sure I’ll be okay in no ti-“ Your sentence quickly devolved into a coughing fit as your body lurched and writhed against the sheets. You tried to roll away but Hunter was faster. He tightened his grip on your body, tucking your face beneath his chin before beginning to rub your back. 

“Easy there sweetheart,” He soothed you. “Take a deep breath, I’ve got you.” Slowly but surely your throat relaxed and your breathing began to slow as you settled against Hunter’s chest once more.  

“What do you need cyare?” He asked you. His voice was soft, though the underlying worry in his tone was unmistakeable. 

“I’m just…really cold..” You stammered out as another shiver violently rattled it’s way up your spine. Hunter was quiet for a moment, seemingly deep in thought as he toyed with the hairs at the nape of your neck.  

“The fresher’s open.” He offered up finally, in a similar way to when he would offer up a new strategy on a mission. “We could go get you back in the shower for a little while.” 

“I don’t know if I can stand for that long,” You murmured, not trusting your limbs as the heat from your fever pulsed through them, making your joints ache and your muscles feel weak.  

His hand moved upward to cup the back of your head as he drew you in to drop another kiss to the crown. 

“I’ll come in with you.” There was a brief beat of silence before he amended; “To make sure you don’t fall.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, Sergeant.” Hunter gently untangled himself from your grasp before climbing back out of his bunk. 

“Come on cyare.” Through the heaviness that seemed to seep to your very bones, you slid to the edge of the bed. Once you had lifted yourself back to a standing position, your head spun from the movement and your knees nearly buckled beneath you. However Hunter sprang into action, wrapping an arm securely around your waist to stop you from collapsing. 

“Take it easy,” He cautioned you, his gruff voice right by your ear. A shiver rose goosebumps across your skin for an entirely different reason. “There’s no rush.”  

You took in a deep breath, calling upon the force to center yourself even through your discomfort. 

“Okay,” You confirmed. “I’m good.”  

You both made your way out of Hunter’s private quarters back toward the main part of the ship. The rest of your crew mates must have already went to their bunks or up to the cockpit, because you saw none of them along your slow journey to the main hallway where the fresher was located. You were secretly thankful for this fact, having not wanted to field any knowing glances from the boys or questions from Omega as you and Hunter filed into the small chamber together.  

By the time you had shed your clothes Hunter had already turned on the shower and dropped his own set of blacks to the floor. He then untied his bandana from around his head and placed it delicately onto to the side of the sink, a ritual he’d performed countless times before. His hair fell freely in front of his face before he tucked it away behind his ears. Even through the fog of your illness you couldn’t help but appreciate the way that his dark brown locks flowed around his handsome face. Seeing him in his natural state was always one of the best parts of your day. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been staring until his gaze met yours, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.  

Within a moment he had closed the gap between you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the either reached out to activate the door panel that opened to reveal the shower. A puff of steam burst from the compartment to beckon you inside. As the two of you made your way beneath the spray, Hunter stayed true to his word and never removed his hands from your sides. His elbow bumped the door panel to seal you in, before he turned you to face him.  

His arms wound around you as you snaked yours around his waist in kind. You pressed yourself as close to him as humanly possible, allowing the heat from the water and the heat from his skin to overtake you. You closed your eyes and rested your head against his chest, feeling your body immediately begin to relax. The steam soothed your throat as you breathed deep, allowing it to flow through your sinuses. The chills that had previously plagued you were now long gone, replaced by a heat that seeped through your skin and warmed you to your very core. Slowly, you felt yourself being shifted once again to lean against the wall. Hunter’s back blocked the water from spraying in your face as his knuckle curled beneath your chin, lifting your head until your eyes met his. His expression was soft as he gazed down at you, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.  

“Feeling better cyare?” You couldn’t help but smile back at him as you nodded. 

“Yes, much. Thank you.” He pressed his lips gently to your forehead.  

“You’re welcome. Although…” He trailed off as the hand that wasn’t beneath your chin gripped the flesh of your hip. He pressed into you again, except this time one of his thighs managed to wedge its way between your legs.  

“I think I can help you warm up even more if you’d like.” You giggled softly as you wound your arms around his neck. 

“See, I knew your motives for this shower weren’t entirely innocent.” He hummed quietly, not disagreeing with you as his eyes followed the way that his hand skimmed up your side to cup your breast. At that exact moment he flexed the muscle in his thigh and your laughter quickly devolved into a whimper.  

“I assure you this is just a bonus.” He teased, his voice dropping an octave as he observed the way your hips automatically jolted. Though your desire was apparent, he still caressed the side of your face and murmured your name to draw your attention back to him. Your eyes fluttered open to lock on to where he was already intensely staring down at you. You were captivated by the way that his damp curls stuck to his forehead. A single droplet of water fell against his cheek. It ran down the tattooed side of his face until it got caught on the plush skin of his lower lip. You had to suppress the urge not to lean forward and lick it off.  

“I’m all for distracting you, but this only happens if you feel up to it.” Your heart once again swelled with love for your sweet, caring sergeant as you smiled up at him and eagerly nodded your consent.  

“I do Hunter. I want you to. Please, touch me.” The corner of his lip curled upward into a brief smirk as he leaned in to capture your lips with his. His kiss was slow and building as he pressed more of his body weight against you. You’d forgotten about the hand that was still resting on your breast until the callous on his thumb brushed across your nipple. You gasped, and Hunter took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. His other hand caressed your cheek, brushing a few wet strands hair out of your face on its journey to cup the back of your head. Your hips flexed as you began to grind against his thigh, seeking out any form of relief that you could for the heat that was now rushing south to pool in your gut and between your legs. 

“That’s it sweetheart.” He mumbled, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Does that feel good?” Your brow furrowed as you as gripped his shoulders, using his frame as leverage to pick up the pace. 

“S’good…but I need more,” You whined. He hummed his acknowledgement as he pressed his lips to yours again in a brief but passionate kiss. 

“Tell me what you need pretty girl.” You moaned desperately as a fresh wave of arousal ran through you. He only used certain nicknames for you during intimate moments like this because he knew exactly what they did to you.  

“Hunter…I…please, I need you…just you.” Your senses were on overload as your blood simmered with a high that you just couldn’t reach. You knew you needed more stimulation, but you were long past any coherent trains of thought.  

“Shh, it’s alright.” Hunter cooed, taking pity on you. He pressed one last chaste kiss to your lips before dropping his hands to grasp onto the sides of each of your thighs. His leg abruptly moved out from between yours. You whined at the loss of contact, but before you could protest any further you let out a yelp as you were you were hoisted upward through the air. Your nails scraped along Hunter’s shoulders as you clung to him for dear life. Once he had secured your legs around his waist, he leaned himself against you to press you back against the wall. 

“Easy meshla, I’ve got you.” He mumbled into your neck. You could already feel the head of his cock rubbing against your entrance, and you eagerly flexed your hips.  

“Hunter please,” You begged him. “Please fuck me!” He peppered kisses along your shoulder and chest as he lined himself up. You opened your mouth to continue to beg, but before you could say anything more he bit down on your pulse point and pushed inside you in one fluid motion. You cried out as your head fell back against the wall, the breath being punched from your gut with the force of his thrusts. 

Hunter immediately set a bruising pace. The build up had clearly affected him too judging by how he withdrew himself nearly completely out of you before slamming back in. The angle allowed him to brush against your g-spot each time he bounced you on his cock. It sent delicious waves of pleasure shooting up your spine and pooling down in your gut. All the while you cried and moaned, a senseless string of praises and whimpers of his name slipping past your lips. You were consumed with everything that was Hunter until not a single other thought remained. One of your hands rose to tug gently at the curls at the nape of Hunter’s neck, eliciting a noise that was more akin to a growl from somewhere deep in his chest. 

“Fuck cyare,” He groaned. “You feel so good, you always feel so good.” You whined high in the back of your throat, a sure warning sign that you were reaching your end. 

“Hunter…I…’m gonna cum.” 

“Yes Meshla,” He encouraged in a rush. “Cum for me, I’m right there with you.” 

With a final cry of his name, you tumbled over the edge. You didn’t know if it was from your orgasm or the fact that he was holding you up, but you felt as though you were floating. All that existed was  the pleasure blooming within you and the way that your cunt fluttered around Hunter’s cock as he reached his own end. The way that he moaned your name as he came was one of the most beautiful sounds that you’d ever heard. The movements of your hips began to slow as you rode out your highs. Hunter’s plump lips pressed a kiss to your pulse point, soothing the spot where his teeth had previously dug in.  

Even as the water grew cold you held onto each other, waiting until you’d completely come down before you dared to move. Careful to not jostle you too much, Hunter leaned backward to shut off the steady stream. He then lifted you off his cock and untangled your limbs from around him before you setting you back down onto your own two feet. The door to the shower opened and any remaining heat quickly rushed out into the rest of the fresher. Goosebumps immediately began to rise across your skin, however before you could become too cold Hunter was there once again to take care of you. He wrapped a towel around your shoulders and dropped an affectionate kiss to the top of your head before turning to grab his own.  

The contrast between the way that he had just fucked you within an inch of your life in the shower to how he now so delicately cleaned you up and dried you off was nearly enough to give you whiplash. However, it more so reminded you of exactly why you loved this man so much. He was sweet and loving and selfless, while also being captivating and passionate and intense. Hunter was all hard lines and soft edges. He loved with his whole being, and gave everything that he had to those who he cared for the most.  

It wasn’t until he began to dress you in another set of his blacks that you were drawn from your reverie. He had somehow already dressed himself again, and had even tied his hair back behind his signature bandana. 

“Credit for your thoughts?” He asked as he urged you to lift your arms so he could slide his shirt overtop your bare chest. 

You smiled sweetly once your head poked back out from beneath the collar. Your hand rose to cup his tattooed cheek.  

“Just thinking about how much I love you.” Hunter grinned back at you, placing his large hand overtop your own. He turned his head so he could press his lips against the inside of your palm. 

“I love you more cyare.” You shook your head. 

“Not possible, but I’m way too tired to fight with you. Can we go back to bed?” He snorted a laugh before gathering up your remaining clothes and towels and placing them in a neat pile. 

“That’s fair enough.” He agreed. “Come on, lets get some rest.” You happily shuffled back to Hunter’s quarters before drifting off into a pleasantly exhausted slumber as Hunter held you in his arms. Even in these most uncertain times, you’d never felt safer or more secure in your life.  

[shadystranger]

"The fandom unnecessarily villainizes sam and dean for choosing each other over strangers when it's literally how humans work" great critic but I actually think the fandom (those interested in the brothers' relationship) are reacting to it how they're meant to: in a negative light.

To trace things back, yes, it's a given, kind of an innate human nature to respond in situations by prioritizing the people you know over ones you don't. That is true. On an individual basis, each person would do this, I would do this, and anyone'd be crazy to villainize this act on my and your part. But sam and dean do it, and it's painted in this hyperbolic moral degeneration light both by the narrative (we could argue) and by the fandom. Because see, sam and dean are a little different than you and me.

They're positioned in their world as tragic heroes who, given the nature of their job, are expectedly deprived of things the normal person could enjoy. They don't get to lead normal lives, they don't die by natural causes, and they must navigate through life bearing more than they must know with soul-crippling responsibilities. "We're the people who save the world," sam and dean don't spend much time before they assume the token role of saviors in their world. Along with that role comes even more imposed limitations.

They are more viscerally equipped and knowledgeable. They have access to things randoms could never dream of having (like death and god). The more you know, the worse you sleep and comes with the mere knowing is the obligation to do something about it. Someone ignorant to the whole ordeal simply doesn't have to answer to it.

Basically, they're soldiers. Imagine samdean reporting for duty, they preserve peace of the public and their blind following to decision moral rightness is taken for granted. It comes with the job. You don't get to make ill-advised progress in your self-interest as a person (sth random ppl can enjoy) when several lives are at stake.

At some point, sam and dean themselves are metaphoricaly acting Gods: people's survival or death depends on them. Sometimes, it's a city's worth of population. Other times, it's the entire world. Their right to free-decision making stops depending only on its virtuous intent and starts being consequential. They're elevated to adhere to higher standards and criteria than normal people are held to.

The rightness of their actions will not be determined among a set of feasible options but instead assessed by whether they chose the option with the best consequences. Or not. The main decision-making factor for "heroes" like them should be putting the general welfare at its fore interest. Not one individual's. Especially not if it's one individual's.

When dean and/or sam sacrifices someone stranger to save his brother, it's a subjective good call I can relate and see myself in it, but given their position within the universe it's irresponsible and far objectively wrong; especially if at the cost of saving his brother, several others suffered.

There are criteria for judging the actions of the pivotal role they uphold. From a subjective moralness standpoint, sam and dean are only humans, and they can be cut some slack or even not at all villainized for doing what their instinct demands. On the other hand, moral objectiveness influenced by the world-setting's structure deems the goodness or badness of how they behave based on the particular consequences of their given actions and whether said actions affected people in good or bad ways. If sam and dean did something that brought peace to the world on the whole and reduced suffering, it's good and logical, whereas if said action caused suffering and threatened peace, it's bad.

dean grudgingly accepting sam’s plan to overtake lucifer even though it meant losing his brother is the objectively morally good choice to make. He had to sacrifice his precious family, but he ultimately was rational and responsible enough to know his brother's life is not a fair trade-off to millions. both sam and dean here act in accordance with their positions within the story/world: they're heroes. But by S8 dean doesn't let sam make a similar sacrifice. He prioritizes sam's life over the many who'll be possessed and will either kill others or be killed themselves. sam releases a world-ending evil to save his brother, and later on, both take turns facilitating the guy who practically promises them an apocalypse to once again save each other.

"The good of any one person is no more important from the point of view of the universe than the good of any other." sam or dean's lives aren't more important than someone else's, this was a point so base sam felt the need to make because it needed to be addressed, their lack of changing anything about it is another matter. Thing is they're the world's designated saviors be it by choice or not, the narrative views them as the fact, they're expected to value the well-being of all individuals equally, regardless of their personal closeness. Imagine a firefighter postponing saving you because someone he knows is more important even when the situation for them is not as grave as you. It'd be unethical and worthy of condemnation because in this line of work, and in general when your job is saving people and work towards the greater good, you do it indiscriminately, you don't get to privilege the well-being of yourself or your family over the well-being of distant others.

sam and dean hold a rightful consequentialist commitment to their actions being as good as possible: the basis on which one outcome is better than another is only if it contains a greater sum total of people's betterment. No impartiality.

Yes, it's his brother, his only family, but it's still morally wrong to prioritize him (in their case). Let's use a patriotism allegory. Imagine a general of a losing army. He catches wind of the enemy's secret bases or is exposed to confidentials enough to turn the tide to his side. However, he finds out his family at home is being held hostage. The moment he reveals what he knows, they get killed. A man has to save his family it's the most basic human instinct, yes, but you'd think it's irredeemably wrong for him to prioritize his family in this case. You'd think he doesn't even have the right to choose when it's a choice between two insignificant people and the entire country being infiltrated and invaded, with the deaths of million soldiers and citizens. It's not even a choosing matter. sam and dean are the general in this scenario, and instead of the country being at stake, it's sometimes the entire population they're throwing to the fire for each other. Anyone'd think it's messed up. You're supposed to.

There is a good reason to save your family (brother) over a stranger (or two, or hundred or million); but labeling both actions as right would risk ignoring the important moral difference between the two. And we need to draw an account of what a hero is obliged to do in order to meet minimal moral standards. sam and dean's constant moral failure to meet such standard despite their role in their universe paints them as flawed, sometimes as the story's designated antichrist.

Their ceaseless prioritizing of themselves marks their moral debauchery and decline as heroes. they get away with not fulfilling their obligations that are thrust upon them by design, they're using a cheat code acting not how they're supposed to and that's the characters/narrarive's grip with them. I don't blame corbin for what he did, while It’s extremely wrong that he tried killing sam, it was a call for survival. Your savior normally doesn’t come with conditions. He was faced with an oddity from the typical rescue mission. And he did what he had to ensure the more number of people survives. We sympathize with sam and dean, so we criminalize corbin immediately and side with dean. We're swept by emotions and our judgment is clouded you could say but from a utility standpoint, dean's decision to stay with a dying sam would've lead to four people's death, or three and one heavily wounded meanwhile corbin's leads to three people's survival and the loss of one. With corbin, more lives are saved, with one unfortunate but necessary sacrifice. Morally and objectively, corbin was more right in choking sam than dean was in staying.

[yandere-sins]

Downfall

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

a/n: I mean, I did kind of teaser this one, but I had it written and only now got to clean it up a bit. But yes, I just really want to be smooshed between yandere please, roughly and brutally okay thanks.

Fandom: Genshin Impact   Pairings: Yandere!Alhaitham x GN!AFAB!Reader x Yandere!Kaveh  Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Blowjob/Throatfuck, Creampie, Masturbation, Non-/Dub-Con, Lots of juices, Rough fucking, Degradation, Praise, DP mention), Violence (Manhandling, Biting), Jealousy, Possessiveness, Punishment mention, Forced Relationship, Forced Feelings

The long fingers raking through your hair didn't make the pain in your throat any more endurable.

His touch, as gentle and praising as it was, did nothing to stop your drool from overflowing. Nothing to make his cock less long and his hips less enthusiastic about burying every inch of it inside you. Your tongue was just a helplessly lolling muscle underneath Alhaitham's instructions, all while his other hand was busy working on the table above you.

He was angry. Not at you, per se. Yet, you hated how you were his outlet, regardless of which emotion that man felt. Or… didn't. He still used you when he wasn't particularly stirred, but that was another story entirely. Kaveh must have really ticked him off that morning, though, as Alhaitham had barged into his room, pulling you out of Kaveh's soft and plush sheets while you were still dozing, and taken you to the Akademiya with him before his roommate could even notice you were gone.

Only for you to go through the horror you had to face every day but in a much less comfortable space. Once again, you were the punished one in their argument.

Once again, you suffered the consequences.

No matter how much he appreciated you forcing yourself to wrap your lips around his cock, Alhaitham never cared to wipe away your tears. He never asked how you felt, squeezed under his table, sucking him off as if your life depended on it (a partially true sentiment, as the air was getting thin with the massive blockage of his cock). He never even so much but cared to put you into proper clothes rather than the skimpy nightgown Kaveh liked to dress you in when he was in the mood for admiring the sight of you.

You were cold, uncomfortable, scared, and felt like an object while in Alhaitham's care. Not a good look for a man who still declared that what he felt for you was love while he locked you up in his home, forced you to study his texts so he'd have someone to talk about them with, and then bent you over and fucked you roughly whenever he saw fit. Even worse than that, at times, Alhaitham, completely captivated by his books or missions, just gave you up to his roommate without a second thought, as if you were a pet in need of a carer. The two had created something akin to a schedule, who got you when, a truly disturbing concept considering you were all adults. However, you questioned their sanity every day. And Kaveh was… perhaps even worse than the roommate currently relishing at the feel of you choking on his cock.

"Alhaitham."

Kaveh's voice emerged pressed through his teeth, anger boiling under his tongue. You didn't need to see him to know fury replaced his pupils, his joints cracking under restraint. Alhaitham let out the hint of a sigh, noticeable by how his cock pulled out at the intake of air, only to fill your throat again as he breathed out, the gentle fingers from before now turning tense as they gabbed into your hair to shift responsibilities. Instead of fucking his hips into your face, he was now bopping your head up and down, pitiful gurgles leaving you as you stained his pants with your drool and tears, though he was relentless. The peaceful quiet was disturbed, so it was time to get it over with.

He wasn't too harsh with guiding your head, but he wasn't careful either. And while your wrists strained in the cuffs behind your back, you tried to elevate yourself to make it less painful to take him in deep, even beyond your capabilities. It would be over soon. Now that Kaveh had appeared, there was no doubt Alhaitham would finish up quickly to eliminate any nuisances like his desperate needs or Kaveh's nagging. Marking you with his cum, which would linger as a taste on your lips and a smear down your thighs, was an additional pleasure for him to piss off his roommate.

"Where are they?" Kaveh demanded to know, and Alhaitham let a shuddering breath, his demands of you becoming rougher as he neared his orgasm. "How dare you just take them out without telling me!"

"They're busy today. They have obligations other than to humor your sick fantasies, Kaveh."

"Sick fantasies–?!"

Interrupting Kaveh, Alhaitham suddenly rose from his chair, pulling you out from the legroom under his table. Your muffled complaints as he handled you undoubtedly pleasured him, vibrations quivering against his cock shoved deep inside you from above. Alhaitham pulled you taut against him, your lips kissing the fabric of his clothes, spluttering drool as you were cut off from a chance to breathe with your throat used to its best capabilities. Flailing in his grip, you were so helpless with your arms bound, having to rely on his strength to keep you upright. Alhaitham pressed you backwards, bracing himself with one arm against the table, hovering over you. His fingers clutching the edge were the only thing that kept your head from bumping into the wood with every push as he picked up the pace even faster.

Now in a less confined position, he pulled his hips from your face before plunging back down. Over and over, letting out moans and groans of pleasure, Alhaitham much more open and vocal while having sex than one might take him for. Kaveh let out a loud gasp at the sight of you being mishandled, but what could you do except endure being used and throat-fucked? Even if you had wanted to appease the other psycho in the room, there was no way you could have escaped.

Alhaitham's voice cut off suddenly, breathing ragged, and he stopped all the way down your throat, shuddering. Hot splurts of cum made you want to gag as they dripped into you, your only ability being to swallow it as it was given to you. Unable to catch a breath as he came, your body let out more tears while you felt appalled by his cum warming the inside of your throat, your insides burning as if they were on fire.

When he was finally done, Alhaitham slowly retreated, inch for inch, waiting for you to lick him clean before his tip finally popped out of you. Releasing you from his hold, you plummeted to the ground, coughing up spit and semen. You felt so pathetic and disgusting, but Kaveh was by your side in a matter of seconds, pushing Alhaitham away and wrapping you in his arms. Shivering and sobbing, he pressed your face into his shoulder and allowed you to cry. It was all you could do, even if you wanted to scream and howl, but you were too afraid of the repercussions of your actions to let go of your inner restraint.

Your life was so unfair, setting you up for failure no matter what you did. When Alhaitham approached you the first time, you thought he was taking pity on you. A handsome man showing interest in you never was a good sign. Turned out he had just been interested in you because of the information you had, useful for his mission. However, he never stopped visiting your place of work, and you two had developed a relationship—or so you thought. His interests seemed more peculiar than he'd ever let you know, and you never got around to understanding him, even after he took you to his home against your will.

"Why are you doing this to them?!" Kaveh hissed at him, clutching you to his chest. Once again, it was Alhaitham's roommate playing knight in shining armor, defending your virtue that he liked destroying at night. Not without his hands clutching you, of course, squeezing your body possessively, waiting for you to flinch, so he had more reason to go off on Alhaitham. "Do they mean nothing to you?! Don't you love them?!"

You couldn't see Alhaitham's reaction, but he didn't feel the need to respond verbally. You heard the slick sound of him cleaning off his cock of the excess fluids, jerking it a few more times to the sight of you before packing it away. Alhaitham's hand fell to the back of your head, his finger ruffling through your hair as if to say "well done". Kaveh cursed him under his breath, rubbing his hand reassuringly over your back. All of Kaveh's questions were just attempts to get under Alhaitham's skin, but his mind was resolute against almost anything Kaveh said. Would Alhaitham be stirred at the news of you getting away? He loved you, and he saved you from a miserable life; that's what he believed. Even though you suffered, Alhaitham had decided this was the life you should be living, by his side in revered admiration. So would he react at hearing something happened to you? Or would he be just as calm and composed as he was now? His attitude making Kaveh even angrier towards his roommate.

Producing a handkerchief from his pocket, Kaveh cleaned up the mess on your face. Even if the disgust didn't disappear with the wipe of the soft fabric, it helped to feel a little less dirty. A little less used and discarded. However, even without looking, you felt Alhaitham's eyes drill into your back, watching as Kaveh took care of you.

"You okay, Love?" Kaveh cooed, and you bit your lip, knowing it was better to lie than to further aggravate the two. Nodding, you lowered your gaze, not wanting Kaveh to read your eyes rather than trust your confirmation. "Everything's going to be okay. I'll take you away from this bastard soon. Don't cry, Love."

Sometimes it was easy to forget he was worse than even Alhaitham. Sometimes, with his warmth and care, the nicknames and sweet promises, Kaveh had you forgetting how cruel he could be. How his jealousy and competitive nature made him even needier and ruthless than the man who had carelessly throat-fucked you just to annoy Kaveh. It was hard to see how either of them could claim they loved you—love anyone, really—when you were more like a prize they were throwing back and forth, not caring about what you wanted or how hurt you got in the process.

Their egos were your downfall.

"Make sure you clean them up properly when you get home," Alhaitham muttered, and Kaveh's movements halted. You watched his chest puff with air, anger radiating from him as he returned, "Excuse me?"

"I said clean them up properly when you get–"

Even before the sentence was finished, Kaveh reached between your legs. Fingers digging into you without warning, you jolted, crying out pitifully before grinding your teeth, the tears returning. Kaveh pressed his pointer and middle finger inside you, thumb instinctively finding your little know at the front, causing a shock of electricity to jolt through you. You bit back a moan as he scissored his fingers, brushing against your wet and sensitive walls before pulling them out again to examine. Forth came two slick fingers coated in the leftovers of the creampie you received, and Kaveh's face turned from pale to a deep shade of red. He didn't need to be a scholar to know that wasn't his cum inside you from the night before. Not after he made sure to bathe you after his session yesterday.

"Leaving me the seconds to clean up, huh?" Kaveh mumbled eerily as he stared at the little strings of cum forming from his fingers, eyes darkening with terrifying anger as he knelt next to you, knowing you had been thoroughly used.

"Don't be so sensitive," Alhaitham sighed, the previously raging madness at what his roommate did to upset him that morning, lost in the thought of Kaveh being dramatic about the nice gift he gave you.

"Sensitive? Me? After you took my beloved darling out of my bed—kidnapped them even!—knowing fully well it's not your day! We have rules, Alhaitham. And now you are making your mess my responsibility?"

Letting out a surprised gasp, you were suddenly pulled to your feet. Digging his fingers under your ass, Kaveh demanded your cooperation and to wrap your legs around his hips. You didn't dare to disobey when his mood was fouler than both of their intentions towards you. Walking you around Alhaitham's table, for a moment, you were hoping he'd just let it be and take you home. Maybe vent his feelings to you while all he demanded from you was cuddles and to kiss him when he asked for it. Sadly, that was the only and best way to avoid his anger shifting onto you, no matter how appalled you were by his affection.

But it was wishful thinking anyway.

Instead of saving you from the horror that was Alhaitham's office and giving you the bath you desired desperately, Kaveh turned towards Alhaitham's desk, facing him. Before you knew it, your shoulders and back hit the table, your pulse racing as pain spread through your whole body. The hands shackled behind your back made this position beyond uncomfortable, and you cried out in distress as you were slammed on your limbs. Recovering from the shock, you took a deep breath, opening your eyes again, only to find yourself staring at Alhaitham's slightly disgruntled, slightly curious expression. At the same time, you felt Kaveh push your legs forward, the nightgown easily giving way and baring yourself fully to him.

"N-No! Please, no more!" you pleaded, forcing your chin to your collarbones to look at Kaveh. He only glared at you, his voice a frosty threat that you better not challenge him now too. It was as if he was blaming you for what happened, more tears springing into your eyes as you found no way to reason with him when his mind was deceived by things that didn't happen. You certainly didn't ask Alhaitham to steal you away and, even less, force himself on you. But in his jealousy, Kaveh wouldn't believe you even just a little bit.

"Shut. Up."

Immediately, you closed your mouth, letting your head fall back to give Alhaitham a pleading look for help instead. Even after such a long time, you still hoped that your eyes would one day let either of the two have pity on you. However, the latter had already leaned back in his chair, making no attempts to assist Kaveh or save you. His work was interrupted with you taking up most of the table, and his hand gripped into the fabric of his pants where his cock perked up, watching as you were spread out in front of him.

Horrified, you couldn't help but shiver at the sound of fabric between your legs. More tears streamed down your face. This time, you didn't hold back from sobbing out loud. If they didn't have the decency, why should you? So what if someone heard? If neither of them were to be reasoned with, maybe someone walking in and seeing you in distress would get them off you. Though it wouldn't keep you from the embarrassment of a stranger walking in on the three of you doing things that were definitely not permitted inside the Academiya.

Propping your legs over his right shoulder, Kaveh kissed your cold calves, taking a moment to really feel your soft skin against his lips and taste you on his tongue, a sight of worship for your body. Not like you could forget about his tip positioned to rub along your folds. Not even for a second. But as your thoughts drifted off to the danger waiting to pounce, Kaveh opened his mouth, perfect rows of teeth sinking into you the exact moment his hips snapped forward. Gasping, you stirred helplessly in your awkward position, the slickness of your cunt letting him slip in much too easily for your mental state. Yet, you moaned as he filled you, your walls recognizing his cock as if it belonged inside you. Though you wished you could have kept him outside by clenching down hard on his cock, instead, Kaveh let out a myriad of moans as he buried himself deep inside your warmth, thinking you were welcoming him.

Enjoying you, his personal toy, the anger he had felt after finding out what Alhaitham had done was only noticeable in the way his fingers dug into your skin as he turned you to your side, the wet noises growing louder as your thighs parted to give him access. No matter his feelings, now that he was fucking you, Kaveh couldn't resist being enamored, his hands unable to hold as much of you as his mind wanted. In his fantasies, it was you holding on to him, begging for and praising his cock, asking for more, and for him to make you his. Using you as he needed and wanted was just the build-up to make this fantasy into reality, he hoped. But it made him a little more attentive, even though that didn't mean any less rough and needy.

Though you tried to hide the moans slipping out between your sobs, you couldn't, the treatment of the two so cruel and yet leaving such a burning passion behind, crawling from your pussy up your stomach and to your brain with every thrust. You hated thinking your body had already adjusted and synched with them. Still, you knew that no matter who fucked you, you'd be betrayed by the joy of pleasure.

"So pretty," Alhaitham suddenly murmured above you, and you cracked open your eyes again to look at him. His eyes gleamed with mischievous affection, and he cupped your face from above, thumb wiping your cheeks in admiration. "Do you like it, Sweetheart? Does it feel good when he fucks you raw? Or do you prefer me?"

Kaveh let out a disgusted grunt at Alhaitham's suggestion as he pushed his hips forcefully into yours, lodging his cock so deep inside it made you squeak before you let out a hearty moan, surrendering to the fact you couldn't win no matter what you said. Weakly, you shook your head, barely noticeable as you focused on Kaveh's rhythm instead. He kept breaking it to punish you, doing a quick session of pounds before rolling his hips, creating delicious friction. Just as your limbs began to tense, he pulled out completely, leaving you whining without him inside you. With an especially rough push, your walls tingled with pleasure as he hit the sweetest of all spots with the slight curve in his cock. Angels singing and bells ringing in your head, you exhaled a shuddering breath.

"Don't lie," Kaveh grunted. "Tell that bastard how good you feel."

Nails digging into your calves, this wasn't a request but a demand. Everything in your body refused to say it, the signs so clear the two should have known that you were very close to cumming if Kaveh managed to caress that sensitive spot inside you again. You bit your lip, sniffling before letting your head hang, complying pitifully.

"... good," you mumbled, even though it was hard to temper your voice when you were so out of breath. You were constantly on the verge of tipping over into the abyss, your mind going down the gutter as Kaveh kept prodding against your sweet spot. It was a fight you couldn't win, no matter how hard you tried to keep any sound from leaving you.

"Louder!" Kaveh demanded, pushing forward and right into the place that made you tremble.

"IT'S GOOD!" you finally screamed, releasing all the pent-up tension. Your whole body was captured by violent shakes, muscles tensing up to your toes as you were pushed over your limits. It was pure mercy that Kaveh eased you after the orgasm, undoubtedly having a smug grin on his face.

"That's how you do it," he bragged proudly to Alhaitham, their tense eye contact lost on you and your muddled mind. Kaveh knew you, inside and out. He knew what felt good and what really hurt you. While for Alhaitham, you were an object to possess, perhaps even a golden bird that he put into a cage, Kaveh was out for your blood. He was the one forcing you to sing, or he'd tear out your feathers and strangle you. He knew the words to say to make you weep and those to comfort the wounds he inflicted on you. It was no wonder—especially not after being forced to experience pleasure by Alhaitham before him—that you were no match for Kaveh's expertise.

Releasing your legs, he turned you onto your stomach before slipping back inside. Looking ahead tiredly, you came face to face with a very eager, pulsating cock that you knew all too well from it being shoved down your throat minutes prior. But now, Alhaitham was all too happy handling himself while Kaveh finished his business inside you. This had never happened before. They had never shared you willingly. But things were changing.

You weren't sure if you liked that.

"That's it, babe," Kaveh groaned behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and sinking his face into your shoulder as he picked up a stimulating pace for himself, hammering his cock inside you as if his life depended on it. Desperate, thrilled, completely enraptured. He came in floods of his own cum, straining himself as he tried to press as far as possible into you, spread his jizz so far it would cover up his rivals'.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," Alhaitham cooed at you, placing his fingers around your chin and squeezing your mouth open to receive his tip, forcing you to play with it and lick off the excessive precum with your tongue. The taste tingled your memories, your throat clogging up as it anticipated being penetrated again, but even though your eyes opened wide and you tried to jerk away, there was no escape.

"Open up, Angel," Kaveh sighed blissfully, urging you on behalf of his rival. Alhaitham didn't wait for you to welcome him before making himself at home inside you again, his pulsing member only needing the nudge of your tongue and tight constriction of your throat to cum for a third time that day. Infatuated as he was, having watched you get fucked silly, Alhaitham was already so sensible after working your sore body over his length twice before.

"You're so hot," Kaveh mumbled, his hands massaging your ass. Their touch left nothing but hotness behind, your pussy clenching every time Kaveh squeezed you. And every time, he muffled his groans in your shoulder, unwilling to separate from you yet, kissing up and down your shoulder while clogging your pussy with his cock, making sure his cum would stay inside you. Making the sloppy seconds especially sloppy.

"I wonder if they could take us both," Alhaitham pondered, and your eyes snapped upwards, catching the hint of a grin on his face. A truly rare but even more so, frightening look. When it came to researching, one could always count on Alhaitham to have his curiosity picked. Especially when it involved you.

"No… No more…" you coughed as he finally pulled his cock out of your mouth. Your jaw felt like it was going to be permanently fractured, and your throat was sore and burning. And yet, your pussy still quivered around Kaveh, a smirk settling on his lips as well, suddenly having a change in opinion about his roommate.

"I think they'd really like that! Judging by how eager their pussy is."

You always thought Alhaitham was bad and Kaveh was worse. But them working together? It was your damn ruin even though you had to admit... Their cocks felt so damn good as they fucked out the last of your sanity.

Turning you into their pretty, perfect, darling slut.

[nidianddeepspace]

Into that Tender Night

❥ Xavier x OC ❥ An OC remembering loving moments with the Star Baby ❥ FLUFFINESS - he's taking good care of MC after an injury ❥ College/University AU, the (my) MC and Xavier as University Students ❥ Inspiration taken from Tender Night card because I started the game after the banner and couldn't get it but I'm not BITTER

After a fun night on the dance floor leads to a clumsy accident, a young woman spends the night with Xavier, who helps her to nurse a swollen ankle.

Word Count: 2.2k

"Just so we're clear - I told you that inviting me to the spring formal was a bad idea. This just proves it."

To be honest, it wasn't really your fault that there was a huge ice pack resting on my ankle, or that there was a good chance this sprain would make going to class difficult for me until it healed up. But you weren't the one who urged me to go out on the dance floor, singing Dancing Queen my heart out while moving my body without a care on the world, and you certainly weren't the one who made it so that I tripped over the sweep of my emerald evening gown, falling hard on my precious ankle.

But you were the one who asked if I wanted to go the event and as such, you accepted responsibility for my predicament.

As sweet as that was, my ankle still hurt like hell.

"The swelling is pretty bad," you said to me, gently inspecting the damage. I tried my hardest to remain calm even though it was quite painful. "Getting back to the dorm will be pretty difficult."

"I'll be fine. I can just hobble to the bus with everyone's help."

It was a bus that took up to the fancy schmancy hotel our spring formal was held in, the plainness of the school bus juxtaposed with the elegant dresses, suits, and ties the passengers were wearing. You were the best dressed in my eyes, in your white dress shirt, blue and black striped tie, and dress pants. I'd never seen you look so elegant before - and though it sounds cliche, you took my breath away.

I thought I'd make due, but my ankle hurt too much and everyone else was too afraid to helping me move for fear that it would just make it worse. That's when you stepped in, intend of cutting down my suffering as much as possible right. "I'm going to see if we can reserve a room for tonight - that way you can relax your ankle for a while, enough so that the swelling goes down." "Ah..." My blood ran cold. "Xavier, we don't need to do that. Don't you think that's a bit much?"

"If you continue to walk on that ankle, it'll get even worse. It's better for you to stay in one spot for a while and take it easy." Your voice was as soft as it usual once, but there was a firmness there - you were taking decisive action. "The others can tell the bus driver we aren't coming back."

I tried getting you to reconsider, but you'd already made up your mind. And our friends, who had long shipped us together over the course of our time at university, were all too eager to cheer you on. All I could do was sit there with a swollen ankle, praying for the strength to keep it together.

Somehow the Palmer House, the hotel the spring formal in, had available rooms that night. At that moment I truly believed that some higher power was conspiring to give us alone time together and I just had to deal with it. At least they planned it happened in a nice hotel room, decorated with elegant pieces of furniture, all in a big abundant space.

"I'm sorry, but there was only a room with one king size bed left." You carried me on your back and took me to the elevator, much to the shock and delight of the few guests still mingling around the hotel. You really didn't want me on my ankle anymore. "You don't mind, do you?" "Ah...no, it's fine." But it wasn't fine. We'd taken naps together - usually in my room, but sometimes in yours - but there was something about a hotel room that upped the stakes a little higher. "Besides, it's a king-sized bed right? Plenty of room for sharing."

"If you're uncomfortable, I can sleep on a chair or on the floor," you assured me. "You know me, I can sleep anywhere."

"It's okay...besides, you paid for the room. It's only fair that you should get to sleep in the bed...right?"

You chuckled with a nod as the elevator doors opened again. You were so calm and I was fighting for my life.

Our room was at the very end of the hall, in a secluded corner. You gently placed me on the bed, making sure I was okay before closing the door behind us. You made your way back to me, and I got a secret thrill out of watching you lift the hem of my dress, looking at the state of my ankle.

"It's still swollen. We should put an ice pack on it. I'll go back to the reservation desk and see if they have one," you told me.

I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to me. Maybe I felt guilty over causing you so much trouble - you reserved a luxury hotel room just so I wouldn't have to walk back to the dorm! - and i didn't want to burden you even more. But the moment I realized what I'd done, my nervousness grew tenfold.

"What's the matter?" You voice was quiet and calm - always so peaceful.

"You...don't have to do that," I stammered, averting my gaze. "It's already late and you're probably tired."

"It's okay." Your voice was as warm as a loving, gentle hug. One I wish I had the courage to ask from you. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise." And you did. Before I knew it, you'd come back to the room with two ice packs - one for now, and one for later. I watched as you grabbed a nearby ottoman and cushion, carefully placing my swollen ankle on top of the ice pack. "There...how does that feel?"

"It stings a little, but it's fine." You sat beside me. My face heated up when I realized your tie was loosened and a the top buttons of your dress shirt were undone. I could only see your bare collarbone, but that was enough to send me into a tizzy. "Thank you...for doing this for me. I feel bad."

"You're welcome." I'm glad I was sitting - that smile of yours always made me weak in the knees. "Did you need me to get you some water, or..." "I just need you to stay here with me." The moment my words formed in my brain, the sentence was already halfway out of my mouth. "Ah...well, what I mean is that...you know what? Forget I said that..."

"I'm not going anywhere." The fondness of me in your eyes...it made everything about me go soft. "It'll be okay. We're the only ones here."

"Right." I looked down at my ankle, still as swollen as ever. "Well, the two of us and my swollen ankle. I told you I was a terrible dancer."

"You did say that, but you were also lying," you said with a smile. "What happened out there was a freak accident. If you want to blame someone, blame your dress for ruining your graceful moments on the dance floor."

I laughed, spying the tiny rip at the bottom of my dress - where the spike of my heel tore at the fabric. "Or I could blame you for convincing me to come with you to the formal in the first place."

"Maybe." The smirk is tiny, but it's there. "Maybe not."

"But since you're taking such good care of me and have put us up in this lovely room, I'll forgive you this one time," I teased.

"Thank you - that's very gracious of you." There was no hiding that hint of sarcasm in your voice.

We shared a laugh for a bit, chuckles giving way to an uncomfortable silence. I sat with my hands in my lap, not knowing what to say. My eyes gazed all over the room. The large windows offered a view of the quiet city below, the street lights golden and misty, the streets bare, save for a passing car or two.

"What time do we have to leave tomorrow?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"We don't have to leave tomorrow. I booked the room until Sunday morning." My eyes went wide at how easily you said that. "We don't have class tomorrow, and you need plenty of time for your ankle to get better before you can walk on it. So, it made sense to book another day."

"Yeah, but..." I tried to keep calm, even as my prospect of being alone with you, in this hotel, for two nights threatened to swallow me whole. Never mind that your thinking was sound. "That's too much, isn't it?"

You shook your head. "No. Not for you." You patted my head, offering me a gentle smile. "It's okay, really. Don't over think it."

"Okay, but..." I pinched my dress. "You're really going to make me wear a dress for the next two days?"

"Oh - I hadn't thought of that." You laughed, but I could see that crimson flush appearing on your cheeks and on the tips of your ears. "Don't worry. I'll figure out something tomorrow. Just focus on resting for now."

"Yeah. And speaking of rest..." As if on cue, fatigue washed over my entire body. "Sleeping is going to be tricky if I have to keep this ankle elevated."

You smiled. "There are four pillows on the bed and two of us. We can each use one pillow and the other two can be used for your ankle. Here - let me get you set up right now."

"Ah...that's really not necessary." I fought to suppress my desires, which were the strongest they've ever been at that point. Your cologne was intoxicating, and your bare collarbone even more so. I wanted nothing more than to rest on your shoulder, falling asleep to the comfort of your warm body. But I had to stay focused. "I already feel bad enough as it is. Don't worry, I'll figure it out."

You whispered my name is a low voice before scooping me up in your arms. I cried out, looking at you with surprise and wonder as you carried me so effortlessly, like I was no heavier than a feature. You worked effortlessly to ensure my comfort, propping up my ankle up on two fluffy pillows and the ice pack I was using before. You hopped into bed beside me, a satisfied smirk on your face.

"There - now you're ready for bed." You put the white comforter over me before sliding into bed yourself, turning off all the lights, save for one on the nightstand. "If we huddle together, we can keep warm throughout the night."

I was so tired by then, I let you wrap your arms around my waist and pull me close without a fight. It was easy to melt into you warm, despite having to keep my ankle elevated. I sighed, content for another fleeting moment to be close to you. Another moment to relish as though it would be the last.

"Better now?" You sounded just as tired as I was.

"Yeah, but I still feel bad that you had to do all of this because of my clumsiness."

"It's okay - I wanted to do this." You pulled me even closer. "Making sure you're okay is something I take very seriously. And..."

"And?"

"And like you said before - I'm the one who convinced you to go to formal tonight. This is me taking responsibility." Your eyes and your voice seemed so innocent. But the fluttering my heart knew there was something more to it. "You told me to do that, right?"

"...that I did." I snuggled into you, forgetting all about my previous nervous tendencies. I was tired, you were there, and you felt so good beside me...I couldn't help myself. "Still, you know me. I can't go five minutes without apologizing to you for the most random thing."

"That's true. I'm beginning to think you offended me in another life with all that apologizing." You skillfully dodged my swipe at your shoulder. "Hey, easy there. You don't want to hurt something else, do you?"

"Funny, I was going to tell you the same thing." She chuckled, glad for the ease from the tension. I turned my head so you wouldn't see me yawning. "Watch yourself."

"The only thing I'm going to be watching is you fast asleep. You're tired."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I saw you hiding that yawn." Nothing got passed you. Nothing ever got passed you - especially when it came to me. I just hadn't realize it yet. "Sleep...I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Mmm..." I nestled my head in the curve of your neck, my eyelids feeling much heavier. "You should rest, too."

"I will...after you."

We nestled even closer, fatigue easing away any reasons to keep ourselves separated. The rise and fall of your breath was my lullaby that night, sending me to a place where dreams were nothing but peaceful. It was only when I woke up the next morning in your arms did I remembered my swollen ankle. Cocooned in the comfort of your care, my heart yearned for you even more. It wanted nothing more than to beat alongside yours, if only for a little while.

I think you wanted that, too.

[teaveetamer]

show me where someone said they wanted to put a bullet in you specifically. Never happened. By the way I care more about helping the innocent and wrongly imprisoned than anything on here or discord. I donate to the innocence project every month. I'm also sending money to a falsely accused guy in a very high profile homicide case, though I will not specify who. I raise awareness of official misconduct and how touch DNA has been used to wrongly convict people. That's my calling in life. What are you doing to help people in a worse situation than you. Probably nothing

I wasn't going to publish these but honestly, I have to point this out. Either this is Raxis, Vagrantsea, one of the people in the death threat screenshots, or some other party that has been directly involved in the harassment... or this is a COMPLETE rando with NO stakes in this conflict trying to convince me that if THEY are a good person, that somehow makes the people who harassed me justified to harass me. If it's the latter, that just elevates this ENTIRE ask to the level of absurdist comedy and I can't not share that. Like, imagine if you saw someone get mugged, it's on video, and as they're being arrested a complete rando who doesn't know anyone involved jumps in to be like "no they couldn't have mugged anyone, because I donate to charity!" But for the sake of argument, we're going to assume this comes from someone actually directly involved.

So first, congratulations! I hope you do actually do all of those things. But also, what a weaselly, pathetic little argument to make in response to me, again, talking about how I've gotten death threats and harassment. "You weren't harassed even though there's screenshots of it, and even if you were I'm actually a GOOD PERSON, SEE!"??? What exactly do you expect my response to be here? "Oh well I've been getting stalked and harassed but anon donated to the innocence project, so I guess I can't be upset anymore"? Would you also think it's okay for someone to beat their spouse at home as long as they donated to a homeless shelter sometimes, or can we acknowledge that doing a good thing doesn't cancel out the shitty things you do?

And sure, since you asked, I do in fact do things IRL to help people in a worse situation than me. It's, like, my actual job. I also don't bring that up at every opportunity, unlike you apparently, because I'm not a cowardly little rat who needs to hide behind the suffering of marginalized and abused communities to justify stalking people and sending them death treats over a PNG girlie. I'm sorry if what you've done to me has made you feel like a bad person, but that's entirely your own damn fault for doing it. If you want to prove you're a good person, then maybe it's time you stop trying to justify and excuse your shitty behavior and start taking responsibility for it.

[datathearsonist]

Spoilers for DRDT ch 2 ep 16

HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT HAPPENED- Like, yeah, I get Teruko's a bitch and all, but like.. c'mon dude, don't try and kill her off. She didn't do anything wrong MonoTV, don't make her suffer more than she already is with that stab wound. And Levi? Bro, she said she'd be fine, you didn't need to jump in, even if you don't believe her. Sure, she saves your asses all the time in trials (bc she's the protag), but that don't mean you *have* to save her.

And I may not be an Ace lover, but holy fuck do I feel bad. He won't know if Levi survives the bullet wounds, and he'd never know he'd grilled Arturo for nothing because he couldn't save him if Levi doesn't live. His execution was incredibly fucking funny, even if it has a lot of really cool details in it. Just fuckin'- *dies of fear induced cardiac arrest* Like- This dumbfuck died the funniest way possible, like this was meant to be the comedic relief point of the episode.

The execution itself, however, is really sick. "Thanatophobia" being the fear of death, either of yourself or of loved ones, and also being the name of his execution is, quite obviously, very fitting. He made it so painfully obvious that he's scared to die, both at the end of ep 15 and the entirety of his last bit of time living in ep 16. The beginning where the scythe is thrown, signaling Death is after him, makes it really start off with a bang. Then immediately transitioning to the showing of types of death with illness being first, that slowly starts making him spiral downward. After the illness comes fire, where he bravely (for him) charges through the flames before going to the next, car accident. Him barely dodging and it switching to falling is smooth as fuck. The murder, drowning, and lightning come before finally death by execution, specifically by firing squad. He's already stressed the fuck out and quicly getting worse as the guns are raised. He believes he's gonna die by bullets, but they're simply blanks filled with confetti. The damage is already done though and he collapses from going into cardiac arrest.

Also, WHIT IS FUCKING PISSED WITH MONOTV WHEN THEY TRY TO GET LEVI TO THE INFIRMARY BUT THE ELEVATOR WON'T OPEN BECAUSE "The trial isn't over until the blackened is executed." AND IT JUST FUCKING TERRIFIES ME SEEING WHIT SHOW SO MUCH NEGATIVE EMOTION-

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Interpersonal Chapter 5

Fancy events, a brief introduction of the sister (who might be my favorite character), and an ending I think you'll be very happy with.

The next evening, you're in your hotel room putting the final touches on your makeup for the gala. You hadn't seen much of Mr. Onceler since the plane-you'd suffered a silent taxi ride to the hotel and he'd shown you to your room, but beyond that, you'd been left to your own devices. 

And that suits you just fine. You have no idea what you could even say to Mr. Onceler now that you have two highly embarrassing moments between the two of you, and this second one was much, much worse than the first.

However, you were both going to truly have to pretend neither of those events had ever occurred tonight. You were far too nervous about the company you were going to be keeping to not have his support.

You were at least mostly satisfied with the way you looked though. You doubted you'd be the most glamorous person at the gala, but you were also a far cry from the business professional you wore to work (and an even farther cry from the sweats you wore at home).

At seven on the dot, there's a knock at your hotel door. Mr. Onceler is nothing if not punctual. You stand and walk over to answer, putting the last of your small but pretty diamond earrings in your lobes as you do so. 

You open the door and blink a few times; you almost don't recognize him. He's traded his green suit for a smart black and white one, and he's even abandoned his usual sunglasses and hat. The oddest thing about him, however, is his expression.

His mouth is stuck open; he's totally slack-jawed. His eyes are roaming your body up and down like he can't find a place to land them. "Is this okay? Do I need to change?" you ask, suddenly self-conscious. You think you look okay-you're in a midnight blue sheath with a slit up your right leg and no back to speak of. It had been a gift from your sister for graduation, but you'd never had a reason to wear it until now.

"No," he chokes out, his voice rather higher-pitched than normal. He clears his throat. "No, no, you're good. More than good… you look great… I mean, you'll fit right in." His cheeks are dusted with a light pink, and you can't help but feel highly amused by how flustered he is. "Is it warm up here?" he asks suddenly. "It feels really warm up here."

"I feel fine… but you're wearing a jacket and I'm not," you shrug, deciding at the last minute to take pity on him and not tease him mercilessly. "I do need your opinion on something though. I was planning on wearing my thneed like a scarf. You think that'll work?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, that should look good," he mumbles. You nod a thanks, and start putting on the purple thneed, wearing it in a long scarf like you'd often seen him wear himself. "Sorry I'm so out of sorts, I've just… never seen you with your hair down before," he attempts to explain.

Really? That was the excuse he was going to use? He wasn't technically wrong; you had always worn your hair in a ponytail around him before, and now it was curled and unbound, but that wasn't near enough to elicit that type of reaction from him.

"Anyway! We should go," he announces. "I have a car waiting for us downstairs." You take a deep breath, then follow him down the hall to the elevator. "Hey, chin up," he encourages as you step into the elevator shaft. "Don't worry. It can't be any worse than flying, can it?"

You let out a short, bark-like laugh. "No, it can't," you admit ruefully. "I'll still need a bit of help to make sure I don't embarrass myself or you though."

He waves his hand as the elevator opens to the ground floor. "I told you, just stick by me all night, you'll be fine. In no time, you'll be a pro at these." That wasn't as comforting as he probably meant it, but you don't say anything and allow him to lead you to the car, which thankfully isn't a limo this time.

The ride there is both agonizingly long and far too short. It's being held at a museum of some sort, but there's no room to park the car; the outside of the venue is littered with people and even paparazzi.

"You've got this," he murmurs before stepping out of the car and offers you his hand to help you out the door as well. With one more breath to steel yourself, you take his hand and are thrust into the limelight.

The first thing you're aware of is the flashing lights as the cameras go mad when they realize someone else has arrived. There's a cacophony of voices, though you're not able to make out any individual words.

Mr. Onceler tucks your arm firmly inside his own as he leads you over to the throng. "Just smile and bear it. This part will be over soon," he says directly into your ear as you turn toward the paparazzi. You do your best to fix a charming but reserved smile on your face, since you're sure some of these pictures are going to end up in the tabloids tomorrow, even if he releases a statement saying you aren't together.

But that might not even be enough. You see a few of the journalists put their heads together, and you're sure they're talking about you. Great. Just what you needed was a scandal to add to your not-so-appropriate behavior.

Thankfully, he keeps his promise. After a couple minutes, he steers the two of you away from the press. The cameras don't stop clicking, but he doesn't pay them any mind, and you force yourself to follow his example.

He starts introducing you to an impossibly large number of people. Their names flee your mind the second you hear them. There aren't too many questions asked-Mr. Onceler always makes sure to tell people you're his PA-but you do get a few odd looks here and there. You're beginning to wonder if it's an anomaly for people to bring their staff as their plus-ones.

"Mr. Onceler! Mr. Onceler!" A journalist plants herself in front of the two of you, looking like she has no intention of letting you leave until she gets at least a short interview in. Mr. Onceler obliges her, but gives very short answers as she asks about the company at first. Then she gets to the inevitable question, presumably the reason she wanted to talk to him in the first place. "And who's your date this evening?"

"This is my PA. She very graciously agreed to accompany me tonight," he replies. Out of everything this evening, this answer of his throws you off worse than anything else so far. Although he clarified your position, he didn't deny that you were his date. You almost question him, but decide at the last minute it's probably better to keep your mouth shut until you're out of earshot from the press; anything you say could easily be twisted and end up in the papers.

"Anyway, if you'll excuse us, I believe the doors have just been opened, so we really should be making our way inside," he says, expertly finagling you out of the situation. He's not even lying either; people are indeed beginning to move into the museum. "I hate it when they make me give interviews," he grumbles as you move along with the rest of the throng.

"You could have warned me about the amount of paparazzi that were going to be here," you whisper back. "You do realize that they all think we're dating, right? And that this is going to cause a huge scandal?"

He merely scoffs at that. "We're not doing anything wrong," he insists. "I've clarified you're my PA, and we're not doing anything indecent. If the tabloids want to try and make a mess of things, that'll be the easiest thing my PR team has ever had to clean up."

You're not completely convinced, but you don't really want to argue with him tonight. You wouldn't have time anyway; he seems to spot someone and starts steering you in the opposite direction. "I want you to meet Vivienne Woods. She's the lovely lady responsible for the wonderful party tonight," he says while leading you to a woman who looks to be in her forties and who's clearly had the money to age like a fine wine.

Vivienne Woods was a name you actually recognize. She's one of the most well known fashion designers in the world (which probably explained why Mr. Onceler was laying on the charm so thickly). Though she mostly worked in bridal, she did dabble in other areas of women's fashion as well.

"Oh, Oncie, stop, you're too nice," she laughs. You wonder if she noticed the slight wince your boss gave when she called him 'Oncie.' "Although I don't believe I've met your lovely companion here?"

You wait for him to introduce you again, but after a slight pause you realize that's not going to happen. You hastily give your name and explain your connection to Mr. Onceler. As you do so, Vivienne eyes your dress. "Is this one of mine?" she asks.

There's not a chance in hell your sister would have been able to afford a Vivienne Woods dress. But that probably isn't the best idea to point out. "I'm not sure," you say cautiously. "My sister bought it for me as a gift, so I'm afraid I didn't see any tags."

"Doesn't she look lovely though?" Mr. Onceler steps in. "Whoever designed it, you can't deny she wears it spectacularly."

"Oh… of course not," Vivienne says, clearly caught off guard.

"Well, we won't take up any more of your time. I'm certain you're a popular woman this evening," he laughs. "Hopefully we'll run into you later." He steers you away and finally his smile drops into a grimace. "Miserable old bat," he mumbles.

You look up at him in surprise. "Could've fooled me," you murmur. "I was convinced you actually liked her. You seemed sincere enough."

"Good, that means I'm doing my job well," he sighs. "The only reason I'm here at all is because she wants to use trufulla in one of her dress designs. Obviously the use of trufulla by anyone outside the company has to be heavily monitored, so I have to keep her happy so she'll only use it in ways we agreed on and I don't have to deal with another lawsuit on my hands." He sighs again. "And don't get fooled by this party either. The only reason she puts it on is so she can get complimented on how great she is."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "Are you trying to pretend that flattery doesn't work on you, too?"

He finally gives you a smirk. "Okay, yes, but at least I admit that." He glances down at you with a curious look on his face. "You handled her well though. She doesn't respect anyone who doesn't speak for themselves."

"So that's why you had me talk to her. I was wondering," you say. "I'm glad you think I did well. Inside I was freaking out trying not to say the wrong thing."

"Don't worry, no one could tell," he grins. His eyes flicker to the side for a moment. "Come dance with me?" he asks abruptly. 

"What?"

"Come dance with me," he repeats a little more forcefully this time. You're completely unperturbed, but you allow him to lead you to a small dance floor where a live band is playing classical music without complaint.

He takes one of your hands and snakes the other around you to place it on the small of your back, while you rest your free hand just above his elbow. He leads you in a slow waltz for a few moments before you pluck up the courage to ask him the question that's been bugging at you all night.

"So, why am I here?" you murmur very quietly so no one but him would hear it. "I mean, did you really need your PA to come with you to something this fancy? I feel like I'm more of a hindrance than a help."

He was silent for a long while. "Do you really want the truth?" he asks in a low tone.

"I wouldn't have posited the question if I didn't."

"I wanted you to come for purely selfish reasons. I hate going to these things… but more than anything, I hate going to them alone. I figured if you were here, you might make things a little less lonely," he admits.

You swallow heavily. "And have I managed to fulfill that particular request sir?" you whisper.

"Exceptionally well," he breathes. The room is still filled with people, but at that moment, you're only aware of just the two of you, lost in your own little world together.

You were so lost, in fact, you thought you just might let him kiss you if he tried. The mood was certainly there, the tension between you just about to snap…

And then all of the sudden, with zero warning, there's people in the room again. You're not sure how or why, but both of you look away from each other at the same time. "I think I owe you a drink, don't I?" he says to try and cover up the lost moment.

You take hold of the lifeline offered. "Yes, you do. As many drinks as I want, actually," you remind him. The two of you resume the party, perfectly poised for the rest of the evening, but you can't help but wish that the two of you were allowed that little bubble of perfection of being alone, even if it was only for a minute.

Right before you're set to leave, you get a call. You're in the middle of packing your makeup, but pause when you see it's from your sister. You can always make time for her. "Hey, Rora, what's up?" you ask as you answer.

"You tell me," she giggles. "I have to say, I was a little surprised when I went to the grocery store this morning and found an article in a magazine about how my baby sister of all people is dating her mega-billionaire boss. How come you didn't tell me?"

You groan and flop down on the bed. Great. That meant that along with your tarnished reputation, Mr. Onceler would have to deal with a lawsuit which was bound to put him in a bad mood, and you'd have to bear the brunt of it. "I'm not dating him!" you exclaim, already exasperated by the amount of people you'd have to say that to. "If I was dating him, which I'd never do because of my job, just putting that out there, you'd be the first to know. All the journalists just think things because they saw us at that stupid party together-"

"Relax, I'm just teasing," she says, and even over the phone you see her signature wicked grin. "I know you're the last person in the world to do anything remotely scandalous. And to be fair, the article did add the caveat that you never actually confirmed you were dating. It just said you never denied it either."

"I told him he should have," you grumble. "I told him people were going to think we were a couple. But getting that man to do anything sensible is like pulling teeth."

"Oh," Aurora says interestedly. "So if you had it your way, you would be a couple then."

"What? No!" you squeak. "Honestly, where could you possibly get that idea from anything I said about him?"

"You forget who you're talking to," she says smugly. "I know you better than anyone else, remember? But if I needed any further proof, your instant denial did the trick. You would've laughed at me if I was wrong."

You can't even refute her. She's got you nailed, and any further objections would just be more proof in her mind that you wanted to date your boss. You don't want to date him… you've just occasionally wanted him to kiss you. Totally different.

Fortunately, you're spared from answering. Unfortunately, it's because your boss has knocked on the door. "I have to go, Rora," you say with a huff as you open the door to let him in. "The rest of my day is doomed to be spent in a flying metal death machine."

"Okay… ooh! Maybe you can cuddle with him if you get scared-" You hang up quickly before Mr. Onceler can accidentally catch any of her words. He does give you an odd look, but you assume it's from the mess of your items still strewn over the bed.

"Sorry. That was my sister. She occasionally gets in these moods where she delights in being a menace, so she was teasing me about something and distracted me. I'll be done with packing in a moment," you mumble.

"Oh… must have been some teasing," he notes. "Your face is really red."

You curse your sister to the deepest depths of hell where she belongs.

The takeoff is predictably awful, but at least this time he doesn't blindfold you with his tie; he's found a plain white cloth somewhere that he uses instead. He also doesn't whisper in your fucking ear this time, and while you kind of miss it, at least it doesn't put confusing thoughts in your head that you shouldn't be having.

This trip is much more laid back. Instead of being stupid and agreeing to sleep in the same bed as him, you've simply agreed to watch a couple movies together. You'd even done the responsible and nixed any rom-coms. You're instead watching some popular superhero movie that's just come out. You don't really understand the plot, but the mindless action is good for turning your brain off.

You're existing in comfortable camaraderie when the plane suddenly hits a giant bout of turbulence. Turbulence that's so bad you literally fly out of your seat. There's nothing in the world that could've stopped the extremely loud shriek that comes out of your mouth. Not even landing in his lap a moment later.

He jumps when you land on him, but recovers quicker than you do. You're trembling like mad, but he wraps his arms around you comfortingly. "Hey, hey, we're safe. You're safe. I've got you," he murmurs as he strokes your hair slowly and methodically. Without meaning to, you lean into his touch. You know it's not the smartest thing to do, especially not with the article Aurora told you about floating around, but on the other hand, it's not like there's anyone up here to see you.

Whatever the reasons against it, you can't bring yourself to move off his lap, and he makes no attempt to have you move either. You're just staring into each other's eyes, creating a moment very much like the one you'd had a few nights ago at the gala. And unlike that time, there's no one around to break this moment. And it seems neither of you is all too keen on breaking it yourselves.

In fact, he's moved his hand now so that he's holding the back of your head instead of stroking your hair. His fingers are woven into your tresses, but he's definitely holding your head firmly in place.

And without giving you any chance to think yourself out of it, he lunges forward, pressing his lips firmly on yours. And you're kissing him back before you can remind yourself of the ramifications of doing so.

With a low groan, he moves his free hand to the back of your neck as his tongue impatiently swipes along your lower lip. You instantly grant him access to the wet cavern of your mouth. 

You bring your own hand up to rest on the side of his face. He leans into your touch just as easily as you leaned into his. You crane your neck at a different angle, trying to get impossibly closer to him.

You only pull back when you're in need of air. He rests his forehead against yours as you both catch your breath. "I had to do that at least once," he confesses in a low tone before pulling away, gently prying you off his lap. Before you can protest, he stands up and announces, "It looks like we've landed. We're just pulling into the terminal now." You glance out the window, and to your amazement you find he's right. You were so lost in his kiss, you hadn't even noticed the plane landing.

You don't say anything as he gathers his suitcase together. You have no idea what to say. It shouldn't have happened? You wanted more? The two sides are at war within you.

Eventually, he decides for you. Right before he's allowed off the plane he turns towards you and says, "Another thing for our never speak of it again agreement?" Without waiting for an answer, he turns and disembarks, leaving you more confused than you've ever been in your entire life.

[thecoffeelorian]

Overwatch, Chapter 4

Inspired by ASMR

SFW

Word Count: 1.3k

4 of 5 Chapters

Created for TBBAW 2023 @tbb-appreciation-week

DAY 5: CROSSHAIR

Characters: Crosshair and Omega, aka You are Omega because the usual ‘x reader’ tag will not work here.

Tag List: @groguandthebadbatch

AO3: Click Here

He’s gone now.

You repeat this sentence over a few times in your mind, if only to keep your heart from racing any faster.

He’s gone now. He’s gone now. Crosshair helped him see just a little bit of reason, and he’s gone now...

“I think you can relax now, kid. They won’t be back again for another hour.”

“You’re sure…?”

Your voice comes out as a frightened little mumble, yet to his credit, Cross keeps his retorts to himself. At least, at this moment in time.

“Positive. Now, back to work...what happens after you have your bow and your, ah, borrowed key-card?”

You remind yourself to breathe as Echo taught you to do long ago, back when your nightmares dragged you away to Bora Vio and made you believe the Kaminoans had abandoned you as one more experiment in their tanks. In through the nose, count to five, out through your mouth while counting backwards to one. Repeat as needed.

“I would...I would have to wait until the guards’ next shift change. They’ll be too busy trading weapons and swapping stories to notice that I’ve wandered off.”

“And then?”

“And then...I take the elevator to the hangar. It’s got to be close by here, otherwise all these doctors would take a lot longer to get from there to here.”

“Good call. Now, since you’re armed, cleared, and on standby...how do you plan to get past all those pilots by yourself?”

“By myself?!”

The fear returns as you struggle to make some sense of this, of him, without making that Commando change his mind and come back for another intimidating encounter. He’s joking, right…? Yeah, that has to be it. He’s just playing a joke on you to make sure you’re serious about leaving.

“What do you mean, ‘by myself’? Why do I have to go alone? Aren’t you coming with me?”

He can’t be making you leave without him. Not when the way out of here could literally be within reaching distance for you both. He can’t want to be the next person to vanish behind those doors. This is no place for anyone, let alone an already-suffering Trooper.

“Why should I? I don’t belong in that squad any more. You made that quite clear the first time you left Kamino.”

“What—no. No! That’s not true! Of course you still belong!”

You hadn’t wanted this to happen. Whatever went on back there while you created that new routine of odd jobs with high risk, low pay, and moments of fun in between, none of it had a single thing to do with you. After all, you weren’t the one planning to take over the galaxy, and neither had you planned to drag down a long list of native populations the moment that takeover occurred.

“Really? Then how come you were the one trying to do my job when I last saw you?”

“It’s called being the scout!”

The sound of his voice has gone cold, though. Too cold for your own comfort, your understanding, and everything else that has shaped your growth and development up until now. What in the galaxy is he getting at?

“Will you keep your voice down?”

“I said, it’s called being the scout…”

You can’t let him get the best of you. Breathe. In through your nose, count to five, out through your mouth…

“...And anyways, I can only do that sort of stuff about a third of the same distance you normally have. There’s still room for—”

“—Wrong. I’m too severe, unyielding, and incurably evil to ever be around you, let alone live with you. That was what Tech suggested the last time we spoke, was it not? Besides, I’ll just mess up your perfect life of begging for scraps and spouting Republic slogans...won’t I?”

“He only said that because you mocked Wrecker first. And anyways, it’s already messed up. Cid called the Empire on us right before Hemlock stole me away. I don’t think you’d make anything worse, even if you wanted to--”

“—Are you sure about that?”

He’s angry now. Angry with you, the Empire, the Kaminoans, and everyone else who had some kind of influence in bringing him to this point. Angry at life itself, if there’s no other way to phrase it. And when his true feelings finally come out, that’s when you know something important about it all.

This is no longer some one-and-done encounter like you’ve had before, after which you can brush it all off and move on with your life.

This is what real anger looks like.

“Your squad was pretty quick to blame me for getting trapped in that cursed city. I had nothing to do with them wanting to bomb it, of course, but you thought it was my fault anyway. What’s stopping you from pinning Tech’s death on me as well?”

“Crosshair—”

“—Or, for that matter, what’s keeping you from blaming me, along with all the other Troopers whose chips activated, for that order the so-called ‘Emperor’ put into practice? I suppose we’ll just have to pay for Order 66 instead of him?”

“That’s a lie!”

Your voice has gone up a few degrees of intensity. Kriff. They’re going to catch you any second now. You want to convince him that any negative thoughts he thinks you have of him are wrong, that they have always been wrong, but at the same time, you don’t want to deal with any more guards.

“That’s a lie. Nobody’s blaming you for what happened to the Jedi, or anything else that’s gone on since then. I was at the Senate itself before. I heard them trying to help make you official citizens. People out there care about what happens to you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the Senate.”

It’s here that you look long and hard at his face, taking in every single bruise, scratch, and unexplained head injury...and, perhaps for the very first time in your life, you see him. Maybe it wasn’t just the Empire’s lies that brought him here, or the Republic’s long list of secrets, or even the Kaminoans’ disregard for giving any of their ‘creations’ something else besides an empty existence. Maybe it also wasn’t entirely because of the journeys he must have taken in the meantime, or else the abuse from his ‘superiors’ making his life a lot harder than ever before.

Maybe, in the midst of all of your own struggles to survive...you alienated him.

“I meant your oh-so-perfect family, if not also yourself, turning their weapons on me all over again once they realized I’ve helped you a second time. Oh, they weren’t too happy with me for saving you from drowning, now, were they? What do you think is going to hold them back from punishing me if they knew I helped you escape?

Or, dare I ask, what’s stopping them from getting jealous of me, or possessive over you, or furious at the both of us for daring to bond without their permission…?”

He passes a hand over the left side of his head, a telltale gesture for you if not also a nervous tic for him. His eyes are frozen upon you, daring you to respond...and yet, he’s wordlessly suggesting that the headaches haven’t exactly stopped.

Moreover, you’ve seen that strange lump there ever since he first set that lamp alight. That’s one thing you haven’t forgotten, even if he’s drawn zero attention to it.

And third, you’ve heard him mention one more headache at the start of this conversation, along with keeping it locked tight in your memory ever since. What if, even if the chip is truly gone and there’s nothing holding him back from showing you other parts of himself besides disgust or disappointment...something else got put in?

“...Maybe I will.”

[cotillion-the-rope]

Shade Lord Ghost Drabbles: Feels Personal

Summary: I would suggest Ghost telling the Gray Wyrm about their parentage and how the wyrm reacts would be interesting.

[A/N]: I've decided the Gray Wyrm is the kinda of non-binary to use all pronouns. So every time he comes up in a drabble (assuming they ever do again) I'm gonna be using a different pronoun for her.

~

The longer the Gray Wyrm stayed near Hallownest, the more sure he became that the Shade Lord did not like him. It was understandable that they wouldn’t be happy with a foreign god so near their domain but there was also an edge to it that made it feel personal. Curiosity had always been the Gray Wyrm’s greatest weakness and thus he couldn’t bare to let the ‘why’ of that stand uncontested for long.

Upon making that decision, finding them was easy as they had so much power they couldn’t hope to hide from even the weakest of gods, let alone a Wyrm. He waited until they were by themself but seemingly not trying to avoid company to approach; taking the elevator up to where they sat atop the cliff overlooking Dirtmouth.

They shifted their form to allow him to step off but didn’t look down at them. Nor did they say anything, indicating his presence would be tolerated but not particularly welcome. Which was the norm.

Before speaking himself, the Gray Wyrm turned to overlook Dirtmouth as well. Mortal bugs’ eyes wouldn’t be able to see much from up here but to two of them it was a great view of the growing city. He could see why the Shade Lord liked this spot.

“You don’t like me,” the Gray Wyrm finally said. “I understand that and am not offended.” He had no reason to be. “However, I am curious about why that is. Perhaps I am off in my reading of you dislike but it feels personal. I was wondering if perhaps I had done something to offend you.”

The Shade Lord was silent for a few moments as if deciding whether or not to reply before finally doing so. “You look like the Pale King.”

“I have heard of him and some of what he has done.” With how few Wyrms there were in the world it was hard not to know of most if not all of them. “He committed violence and harm and now he’s dead as is his once adversary the Radiance. She was killed by your hand, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t begrudge you that, given what she’d been doing.” The Gray Wyrm refused to partake in violence himself, he was better than that, but for lesser beings it was sometimes necessary for survival. Thus it often spilled over into the weaker willed gods’ affairs as well. If the Shade Lord continued the cycle of tyranny and letting their base bestial instincts for violence and domination control them, they would no doubt eventually meet a similar fate as the Radiance. “But what is it about the Pale Wyrm that makes you hate him so much that it spills over onto me?”

“To fight the Radiance’s Infection, he created many, many, offspring. He placed their eggs in the Void Sea, thinking to make hollow vessels. Most of us died upon hatching, much more not long after. None of us were truly hollow though, not even the ‘Pure Vessel’. They’re known as Hollow now. They suffered the most. They faked being hollow and then held the Radiance in their mind for a long time until they cracked.” At which point, presumably, the Shade Lord had returned to step in, ultimately resulting in them becoming the god they are now. Given that, them being a kind god was a miracle and certainly fortunate for everyone in the vicinity, if not the whole world.

“Ah, I see. The Pale Wyrm was worse than I’d thought. I am sorry you and your siblings suffered so at his hands. I understand why someone who looks like him would cause unhappy feelings to arise. Thank you for putting up with me and my followers despite them. I will leave you to yourself now. Have a good day.”

The Gray Wrym stepped back onto the elevator and hit the lever to start taking them back down. Before he was out of earshot though, the Shade Lord spoke one more time. “Have a good day.”

[gym-advise]

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[omegasquire]

Rose Gold: Ch 23

“It was found dying near the marsh. At first we believed its abnormalities to be because of what lives there, but even the swamp can’t do this,” Tseng replied to Cloud.  

Sephiroth stepped next to Cloud and passed a tablet to him. “Here. There are pictures of the location and the state it was found.” 

Cloud startled slightly when he realized how close Sephiroth was, but took the tablet and tapped the screen to pull up the first of several images. Each picture that he looked at was a different angle of the chocobo and its surroundings. 

The more he saw, the more disturbing it was. 

“This doesn't make sense,” he muttered. 

“It was the only one on site, according to the report.” Sephiroth looked past Cloud’s shoulder to study the chocobo. “Judging from your reaction, something like this didn’t happen for you.” 

Cloud shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything about Geostigma spreading to monsters. This is nothing like Geostigma.”

He lifted his head to look at the mutated chocobo. It was unsettling. While humans suffering from Geostigma was a nightmare, mutated wildlife was even worse. There weren’t nearly enough people in the world who could fight against monsters; that was why mercenaries and designated patrol groups went out to secure the safety of a well-known travel zone or where there was population. 

When Midgar fell and Edge took its place, there were no longer any walls to prevent the outside from harming those within. Cloud had joined his share of hunts to keep the city outskirts safe, whether it was by pay or his own volition. There were hardly enough fighters to do the job, unless street thugs counted. 

Here, in this world, there was a higher supply of able fighters to defend Midgar and its people. There were likely more throughout the world, too, whether they fell until Rufus’ command or someone else’s. 

Still, was that enough?

On top of Jenova and the triplets, did they have to worry about mutations as well? Cloud didn’t like the thought of that; there were too many variables as is. Adding one more element was adding one more possible casualty. Not only humans, but now wildlife was in danger. 

The question was, however…

“Why would monsters be affected?” Cloud focused on the abnormalities of its mutation. “Geostigma was the result of the Lifestream emerging to protect Gaia. People were infected because they were exposed to the tainted Stream.”

He turned his gaze towards Sephiroth. “It was believed it was because Sephiroth – by proxy, Jenova – was the source of the tainting. The ones who suffered from that exposure were humans, not animals. I don’t know if that meant animals had no value in being infected, or if they were incapable.”

“Then we are facing something completely new,” Sephiroth concluded as he met Cloud’s gaze. 

Cloud nodded. 

Rufus tapped the crown of his cane in a thoughtful manner. “We’ll broaden our search and determine how widespread the mutation is. I had hoped that you could provide insight, but it seems that our predicament doesn’t align with yours.”

It was clearly dismissive, but there was no denying the older man’s words. This was something he hadn’t faced before, and if Cloud’s intuition was correct, then the creepy feeling he had when he walked by the other tanks meant that this might be a worldwide problem. 

Was this development because Jenova and the brothers had emerged? It was hard to say, but that was the most logical conclusion that he could come up with.

“I’ll have the driver send you back. We’ll discuss again when we have more conclusive information.” Rufus glanced at Tseng. “Escort them out.” 

Tseng gave a short nod. “Yes, President.” 

Tseng took the lead and retraced their steps back to the elevator. Cloud and Sephiroth followed suit, though Cloud couldn’t help but look at the creatures that Shinra had captured. He was bothered; sudden changes never meant a good thing. Not in his experience. 

~*~ 

The ride had been quiet, but it didn’t take long for Cloud to return to Shinra Headquarters with Sephiroth. All the while, Cloud’s thoughts kept turning over and over as he tried to make sense of what he just saw in that underground lab. 

When Geostigma spread across his world, it was originally known as “Midgar pox.” People thought that Midgar was its origin, and that it was a curse brought on by the sins that Midgar committed. However, as it spread across the world, it became clear it was Gaia herself who was rejecting her current conditions. 

Though they had avoided the world’s immediate destruction, within her veins still swam a poison that caused the precious children who she nurtured to grow sick. Those who were more sensitive to the Lifestream and mako exposure were more susceptible. 

It was a miracle of sorts that Cloud resisted becoming sick for as long as he did. After being poisoned twice, one would think that he would be among the first batch of the afflicted. 

The mutation that now was showing up in this world was nothing like Geostigma. If Jenova was still present in the Lifestream, then Geostigma should be running rampant. People like Zack and Sephiroth should be showing signs of illness since they were exposed to high concentrations of mako and Jenova cells. 

Sephiroth, especially, should be one of the first people to fall. 

The fact that Geostigma didn’t exist here, and Sephiroth was still sane despite being exposed to Jenova cells since gestation, created a large hole in logic that Cloud couldn’t wrap his head around. He still didn’t know what happened to Strife and why he was taken in by Jenova instead. 

“Are you getting off?”

Cloud snapped out of his thoughts, caught off guard by Sephiroth’s voice. He quickly gathered himself as he realized the elevator had arrived at their destination and Sephiroth was waiting for him. 

“Yeah,” he replied automatically. Then, he noticed the floor number on the elevator. “This doesn’t lead to the private quarters.” 

“I know.” 

Sephiroth didn’t elaborate and simply kept walking like he expected Cloud to automatically follow. Considering the restrictions he still had, Cloud had no choice. 

It didn’t take long for him to recognize the hallways they were walking down. Excluding when he came to drop off his stuff, the last time he was in Sephiroth’s office was when the other man had given him the bangle. Reminded of it, Cloud unconsciously touched the item on his wrist. He never took it off, even when he showered or slept. Though he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to break it if he came under attack by Jenova again, he didn’t want to accidentally trigger it. Considering the high quality material, a little bit of water wasn’t going to damage it at all.

Sephiroth opened the door to his office and stepped aside to let Cloud enter. Cloud went in, thinking the other man was just giving him a moment to gather the bag he had left behind, but much to his surprise, Sephiroth entered behind him and closed the door. 

“Why did you close the door?” Cloud frowned, though Sephiroth couldn’t see it. 

“There are things to take care of,” Sephiroth replied and made his way to his desk. 

It left Cloud in a state of limbo; he didn’t want to stay in this office, but he couldn’t leave either. He opened his mouth to insist that he needed to return to Zack’s place, yet hesitated to speak. Sephiroth was already sitting down and turning his attention away from Cloud. 

Left to decide on his own how to pass the time, Cloud sat at the table. He was frustrated at the other man. He felt like a dog who had been dragged indoors and made to figure out how to entertain itself. However, unlike a dog, he had no toys – only the wood carving he had started. 

He wasn’t quite comfortable with pulling it out, but he had nothing else to distract him, and it wasn’t a secret he could hide after the fact when the man had already seen it. Silently letting out a resigned breath, Cloud removed his helmet and set it aside. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair to rid himself of the feeling of having his hair smushed down. 

Had he been paying attention, he would’ve seen Sephiroth glance his way.

After a hesitant moment, Cloud finally decided to pick up where he left off. It took him a bit to settle back into the rhythm, but eventually he was able to focus and let his surroundings become nothing more than white noise. Even the sound of Sephiroth typing became insignificant. 

Minutes passed in silence with the sole sound of metal slowly cutting out slender chips of wood. At some point, a small pile of shavings gathered on the table as Cloud continued to work. 

He was so engrossed, it wasn’t until a long shadow fell over the table that he realized Sephiroth was close. 

Cloud’s head snapped up to see the man standing next to the table. He was holding a notepad in hand. Cloud was surprised he hadn’t sensed Sephiroth draw near, least of all stopped typing a while ago. The man quietly looked at him as if he was observing him. With an impassive expression on his face, it was difficult for Cloud to know what he was thinking. 

Shifting his gaze between Sephiroth and the tablet, Cloud cautiously asked, “What do you need?”

Sephiroth held out the notepad to him. “I need you to write down everything you know about Geostigma. We need to compare any similarities with what we saw. If it’s a disease that can eventually spread to humans…” His voice trailed. 

Cloud set down his carving and took the notepad. “My handwriting is bad,” he warned. 

“That’s fine.”

Though Sephiroth said it would be fine, Cloud had his doubts. He looked at the notepad dubiously with a slight furrow to his brows. “Don’t you have a tablet?”

“No.” 

He looked up at the other man again. He didn’t know if Sephiroth was telling the truth or not. 

Seeing how he wasn’t budging, Cloud almost clicked his tongue. The more he spent time with the other man, the more his emotions were tossed around. One minute he was cautious, another he was angry, and another he felt weary and resigned to the relationship that was thrust upon them. 

Somehow, he felt like he was being strung along to Sephiroth’s pace. 

Cloud brushed aside the wood shavings and gave himself room to write. “I don’t know a lot,” he admitted. “Even with global research, it still wasn’t fully understood.” 

“Whatever you can give will help.” Sephiroth moved back to his desk. 

He was giving Cloud space to write without feeling pressured. Cloud was grateful; he didn’t like someone hovering over his shoulder, and the distance between him and Sephiroth gave him breathing room to properly reflect on what information he knew about the disease. 

Starting with common knowledge, he jotted down how the Geostigma spread, who it affected, and the approximate amount of time it took before someone died from it. It was information he learned from speaking with others and his own research. 

He also wrote about what he had learned from Rufus, and the events that supported the theory. Especially the emergence of Kadaj and his brothers, and what they did.

When it came down to the symptoms, Cloud paused. He recalled the faces of all the people he’d seen that were afflicted by Geostigma. Not just Denzel, but strangers and acquaintances alike. Even himself. He knew intimately what it was like to feel the sharp and searing pain at the site of the infection. While his symptoms were moderate by some standards, he was a unique case. He doubted even those suffering from severe symptoms went through what he did. 

He couldn’t get rid of the presence of Sephiroth. 

Cloud tapped the pen against the paper before starting to list the symptoms he knew of. He used his own experience as a template to lay out some of his findings. It was all too clear in his memory how he had spent days gritting his teeth against waves of pain. It wasn’t frequent, but still common enough that there were times he was reluctant to take long drives out of precaution that he would suddenly lose control of his muscles and send the bike crashing. 

Cloud unconsciously touched his arm as he read over what he had written. 

“Are you hurt?”

Cloud looked at Sephiroth in confusion. “Huh?”

“Your arm.” Sephiroth pointed at the way Cloud was holding onto it. 

“No, I’m not.” Cloud let go, only to hesitate and continue, “It... I lied.”

Sephiroth said nothing. He only got up from his seat and moved to where Cloud was, drawing out the chair opposite of him like he had done before. 

Cloud looked down at his arm and recalled vividly how the Geostigma had become a constant part of his life for months. It seemed just yesterday that he was fighting the remnant and was doused in the church’s healing waters that erased the plague on his body. 

“For some it comes quickly, but for others it’s gradual. It wasn’t immediate for me; it took months before I showed symptoms of the Geostigma.” He didn’t like talking about it. Thinking of the days when he had to figure out how to deal with the Geostigma was uncomfortable for him. “You could get headaches, vomiting, spasms, or fever. Sometimes it happened simultaneously. The most common sign was a festering on their skin. Mine was concentrated on my arm.” 

He wasn’t sure if he would eventually get it on other parts of his body, but he was grateful it didn’t come to that point.

If he ended up unable to move because it spread to his other limbs... 

He had thought about the possibility many times, and it scared him. 

Cloud shoved those feelings down before he drowned in them. 

“I had to clean and wrap it all the time. Having it rub against my clothes was uncomfortable.” At the same time, Cloud had to alter his clothes so that it looked like a strange fashion statement as opposed to a means to hide his illness. By some stroke of luck, the others didn’t question it; they merely took it as one of his quirks. “The pain came and went. There were also hallucinations...” 

His lips pressed together into a line. He didn’t want to say that the hallucinations were about Sephiroth and his past. 

“How long did it last?” Sephiroth asked when Cloud fell into silence. 

Cloud drew in a silent breath and shook his head. “A while. I didn’t count the days. At first it wasn’t bad, but as time passed, it grew worse.” 

To his surprise, Sephiroth’s hand reached across the table and caught his wrist. The man’s grip wasn’t tight, but almost cautious – gentle? – as he turned Cloud’s arm over. He seemed to be inspecting it, as if he could somehow tell whether he was still sick or not beneath the borrowed uniform. 

“And now?” the older man asked, his voice a little softer than Cloud was used to. 

Cloud wasn’t sure what to make of his behavior. He felt awkward; this was something he’d never experienced before. “No, I don’t have it anymore. Zack would’ve told you even if I lied.” 

Sephiroth made a quiet sound of affirmation. “Yes, he would.” 

He held Cloud’s wrist a little longer before letting it go. There was a subtle intimacy in the action that was a little perturbing for Cloud. The few times he ever had contact with Sephiroth – the one he knew – it was out of violence or some perverted desire to coax Cloud into abandoning humanity. 

There was an instinct there for Cloud to immediately jerk back, but the man before him gave no reason for him to suspect manipulation or harm. If anything, it was as if Sephiroth was treating him carefully. 

Shouldn’t this man want to avoid touching him? Cloud was wearing the face of his enemy. 

Lifting his gaze, Cloud found Sephiroth staring at him. Those unique, sharp green eyes encompassed Cloud’s vision in a way that made it uncomfortably easy for the other man to do as he wished. More than once, Cloud had left a gap in his defenses for his world’s Sephiroth to slip in and touch his mind. Whether it was directly, or through a touch, Sephiroth whispered poison in his ear.

Jenova was doing the same thing. She was constantly trying to get under his skin and feed him lies to get him to change sides. 

Her persistence was worse than Sephiroth’s, and it made Cloud sick to know that she was becoming more aggressive with her methods. If the triplets were her way of answering his resistance to her call, then they were bound to be relentless in their pursuit until he either gave in or killed them. 

A lingering inquiry that probed Cloud’s mind, though, stemmed from the man before him. 

If Strife’s lookalikes were Jenova’s way of chasing him down when he didn’t succumb to her mental games, why was he able to in the first place? Why was he able to snap out of her hold when Sephiroth was near? 

Cloud’s gaze flicked down to the other man’s hand that remained near even if it no longer touched him. “Sephiroth... I have a question.” 

To his murmur, Sephiroth replied calmly. “Say it.”

“How…” Cloud paused and looked up again to meet the other man’s gaze. “How are you able to resist Jenova? In my world, you were chosen, but here, it was me.”

Sephiroth was silent. It was a lengthy pause before he replied, and it was an answer that Cloud didn’t expect. “We’ll speak on that later.” 

Cloud’s brows knitted. “Why can’t you tell me now?”

“There are more important matters to take care of.” Sephiroth drew back his hand and straightened his posture. 

“You won’t tell me what happened in Strife’s past, and you won’t tell me why you can resist Jenova.” Cloud let out a frustrated breath. “Then tell me about this: if we are going to fight those three, then we need to know more about Strife. I need to know more about him.”

Sephiroth met his gaze quietly. “There are some details about him that I don’t know about. However... why is it important to know about him? Is it not your personal curiosity?”

“I am curious,” Cloud admitted and straightened his posture as well. “But that’s not the only reason. I don’t know if my thinking is correct, but Sephiroth’s remnants were pieces of him.” 

He didn’t think much of it at the time, but in retrospect there was a similarity and even familiarity to Kadaj’s, Yazoo’s and Loz’s behaviors that he couldn’t shake. The one who was the most disturbingly similar was Kadaj, and it had nothing to do with his looks. If anything, Kadaj’s appearance was probably most similar to Sephiroth in his youth. 

What really stood out was his personality. That manic, obsessive part of him that haunted Cloud throughout his whole journey chasing the man’s shadow. He had a childish, twisted personality with zero regard for consequences. All that drove him was a desperate need to be reunited with Jenova and see the destruction of all humanity. 

He would restart the apocalypse with Cloud’s corpse strung up as a banner of victory. 

Now that Cloud was facing his own remnants, he was aware of the glaring hole in his information. Strife was a stranger to him, and no one was willing to tell him more. Zack skirted around the negative parts of Strife’s personality, only singing praises and falling into nostalgia. He hadn’t spoken to Aerith about it either, and there was no way he could reach out to the others either. 

This left Sephiroth, and the other man was acting reluctant to say anything about it. 

“If I’m right, then Strife’s remnants might be similar,” Cloud concluded. 

“We have to consider the possibility that they aren’t. What happened in your world does not always correlate with ours,” Sephiroth countered. “What we saw earlier is proof of that.” 

“Not everything, but the fact that these three brothers exist means there’s a high possibility they follow the same formula.” Cloud stared hard at Sephiroth. “Why won’t you tell me about him?”