#every time i start this i wonder whether i could just hand off my designs to another more competent uma artist as a commission

[bonepriests]

still trying to figure this stuff OUTTT lol heres a fast doodle

[thesongoficeandfir3]

The coronation

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Wife!reader

AU where the blacks won

Warnings: none, just Jace and his wife reader being cute before his coronation

You make your way down the long corridor of the Red Keep’s ancient castle halls, your steps echoes loudly off the stone walls and floor. You soon approach heavy oak door where two knights stand and upon seeing you they immediately pull the large doors open. When you walk in you are met with a scene that takes your breath away. There in the center of the room your husband Jacaerys stands, dressed in a long, heavy, and expensive red and black regalia, fit for a king.

When you entered the room you were met with the back of him standing still. He was surrounded by several maidservants who are busy adjusting and fastening every piece of his attire, ensuring they fit perfectly for this very crucial day. There are large glass windows in the room and the bright morning light cast a glow on Jacaerys who stands in the center as if the gods themselves are casting their blessings on him for this important day.

His red and black robes are a vision of opulence and power. The material is thick and heavy, a velvety red silk that drapes him gracefully. Sewn into the sleeves, are subtle but intricate designs of sea horses and dragons, to represent both of his houses, each carefully crafted out of shimmering black thread. The back of the robe is longer than the front, pooling on the ground behind him in a dramatic train.

Your own gown had matched Jace’s, something Jace was very insistent on when it came to the designs of them. You are not sure when it started, but sometime during the first year of your marriage you found a lot of your and Jace’s outfits subtly match whether it was a big occasion or not. Your gown though less elaborate than your husband's, it still a vision of beauty fitted perfectly for a queen.

As you silently stand behind him, he meets your eyes in the reflection of the mirror he’s standing in front. A small smile dances across his lips and his dark eyes glitter with affection. It's the same look he gives you every morning when he kisses you awake.

Jacaerys holds up a hand, the gesture causing the maidservants to stop their movements in an instant. "That's enough," he says, his deep voice firm and commanding. "You may leave us."

They curtsey quickly and walk away, shutting the door behind them. Once they are gone, keeping your back straight as much as you could and your head bowing low you curtsey.

“My king.” you say with a teasing grin.

“Stop that.” he playfully rolls his eyes walking over to you. He places a hand on your chin with a tender touch, lifting your head and gesturing for you to stand.

“You look ethereal.” you whisper out, looking into his dark brown eyes with nothing but love and admiration.

“As do you my issa prūmia.” he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you nervous?” you ask.

He moves his hands down from your face to holding your hands squeezing them slightly.

“Just a little.” he answers, his shoulder dropping not realizing he was tense the entire time.

You notice this and move one of your hands to caress his cheek to help calm him.

“You should not be, your grandsire and mother were wonderful rulers and they passed everything they know on to you, so I have no doubt you will be just as good.”

He nods leaning into your touch, the warmth of your words and touch calming him a little, but still a small part of him is nervous.

“So does this mean from now on I have to bow when I enter every room you are in.” you tease hoping to lighten the mood.

“Hmm,” he pauses for a moment pretending to think. He then leans in slightly. “Yes, I think you will have to bow before me….Every…..Single……..Time. He says each word deliberately slow meeting your teasing banter

“Oh?“ you quirk and eyebrow feigning surprise. “Does that mean I must always call you my king as well?” you lean in closer causing your lips to be mere inches apart.

“Of course my darling,” he says reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear being very careful not to mess with the elaborate hair do, his fingers then trail along your jawline “I am your king, after all.” He smirks down at you.

“And I am your queen” your eyes had yet to leave his during your entire conversation.

“And a beautiful queen you are.” he presses his lips to yours lingering for a few moments before pulling away.

“And your child and rightful heir.“ you take his hand pressing it to your growing pregnant belly.

Jaceaeyrs feels a rush of emotion at the feeling of your belly under his palm, his eyes drifting down to where your hands meet before looking back up at you, His expression softens further. “Our child” he corrects a protective hand still resting on your stomach.

Your heart swells, though such a small gesture you can’t help but feel emotional that he said ‘our’ instead of his.

He suddenly kneels before you his fingers splaying on the swell of your stomach gently kissing it before resting his forehead on it.

“Our future king or queen.” He whispers out.

Your breath hitches at his unexpected action.

“J-Jace,” you stutter out. “This is unbecoming you are to be king” you say feeling extremely flustered.

He chuckles the sound deep and rich.

“Out there I am, but in here with you I am just a man who loves his wife and unborn child dearly” he plants one more kiss on your bump before standing. He places his hands on your hips bringing you close once more.

You reach out and grab the livery collar, each piece being one of the kingdom’s house sigil. You carefully place it over his shoulder before fastening the last button of the robe and smoothing a hand over his chest.

“Now then, let us get you to your coronation.” You smile

“As you command my queen.”

[kooyabooya]

SECRETS & SPELLS

m reader x kazuha ; sakura // 14k words

“Really,” and you’re saying this with the most unimpressed look on your face, knowing Sakura’s bullshit could never get to you that easily, “And here I thought we had something special going on between us,” you tell her with a gesture of a hand, signifying the rapport. 

She laughs at that, because deep down you’ll put up with her antics in the end either way. Whether it would be spilling a few drinks down her throat or splitting her open until the crack of dawn breaks into the horizon, you’ll get the last say before she does. Always. 

“Do tell,” says Sakura, “Besides, you’ve got my number on speed dial.” 

-

It’s actually a pretty funny thing how the sacred law of attraction works in these kinds of scenarios; at least, that’s what you’ve learned when Sakura barged into your life from completely out of nowhere. This might come off as unexpected: you’re the TA for one of the design courses, and Sakura happened to be one of the top students in the class with the highest probability to break through into the fashion industry come post-grad. 

And at every turn since the beginning of the semester, she has managed to impress you amazingly. 

Everything’s all lighthearted at the first meeting - the usual buzz about this stellar connection you have with Sakura - and she feels the same sentiment. The feedback is subtle; the compliments start to pile on one another; you’re noticing features in her appearance that might be falling into the obvious scope of things, but you take note of them either way. 

Wasn’t that long until you’ve mustered up the courage to treat her out after she came to you for additional advice and pointers and such from one of her personal projects. Although the first date was an absolute train wreck to your standards, she was willing enough to come back around for more. 

One meeting happens again, and another. 

Then the next one. 

And the next one. 

The weeks start to mesh together aside from all the usual routines and responsibilities filling up your schedule and calendar. But you’ve managed to set time aside whenever possible because that’s all part of having fun with someone like her. And sure, you’re waiting for that Friday to hit every time because it relieves you of anything for a short period; it’s also safe to say that you’re not the only one. 

So you learn a lot of things about Sakura. More ways than you would like. 

And it’s not even worth blaming the lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol.  A test drive of sorts, the natural course of thoughts coming out from your brain and channeling that to your words and actions whenever you’re around her, there’s that appreciation in the honesty - wondering where has this girl been all your life?

Because Sakura falls in a lot of ways. Ways that you would never have expected:

“For one thing,” you’re telling her while being roped deeper into the club by her hand, “I don’t think the number 1-800-hot-n-fun was a viable one to go with, by the way.” She twists her head around once getting past the foyer, opening up from the inside to scattered crowds spaced away from the dance floor. As expected for a Friday night to no surprise -  the thrumming of your eardrums in response to the overpowering bass proving a clear struggle in terms of discernibility. 

“Do I have to remind you again?” Sakura tells you, loosening the grip as you’ve managed to get in close proximity, unfazed when your body is practically on top of hers, passing through the crowd, “We’re doing that thing with Miss ‘you - know - who’. Unless you’re asking me to just leave your ass back in the apartment, but oh wait - you're already here with me as it is.” 

“Sure.” And that’s how things like these usually go with her: you’ll be doing one thing, then the familiar contact on your phone pops up on your lockscreen. Some days you’d drop whatever you were doing in a heartbeat - if it was willing to kill time or procrastinate, she’d know your answer already. “Drop the code name. You’re not being really inconspicuous with-” 

“Kazuha? But it fits the profile perfectly!” She’s beaming, exchanging a few glances with some regulars hovering outside the dance floor, her face lighting up with wide eyes andan open an open mouth.

“But seriously,” you say, and with as much sarcasm that you could pull out of your ass, “I thought that was a one-time thing with her.” Sakura rolls her eyes, spearheading to one of the booths on the far end of the dance floor, secluded in a suspicious corner where no one else would end up unless being escorted off with enough shots in their system to do so in the first place. 

And you learn - with Sakura, nothing is ever a one time thing with her. Ever. She brought you into a trap, the kind where you couldn’t even get out of if you tried. 

Like all necessary cues for an entrance, this one doesn’t really have a notable introduction since you’re the one that’s interested without actually saying it explicitly. The lone girl sitting in the booth catches your eye, spacing out with the colorful floating lights occasionally hitting her face as she appears to be breaking a sweat despite her stoic expression. 

She looks nervous, probably flustered at the fact that she’s even in the dance club considering how flushed her face looks without the color. You look over to Sakura, to which she smiles with her eyes, already feeling the stage being set for what’s to come.

“You sure you want to leave this as a one - off?” She asks, combing down some of her hair while waving at the girl in the booth. “Think of this as a chance to redeem yourself with her - her - I mean, me.” 

“Not everything has to be about you. Acting as the lynchpin when you also want to join in on the fun as well.” 

Sakura nicks her head, that prying grin coming at the corner where you can’t see it up front. She studies your features, the way your face crinkles at every remark or sly comeback that leaves her lips, priming those synapses ready and raring for how she wants this night to go. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. It worked last time, and it’ll work again.” 

With all thoughts considered, it all leads to one inevitable conclusion: 

“I’d love for you to work her over again, like you did before,” she husks, lazily placing her lips along the line of your jaw. The nerve ends down your neck and spine tingling at the contact as your feet move along with hers, approaching closer to the lone girl waiting at the table, locking irises and noticing her pulled lip. “And just for your information, she’s so into you.” 

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around with him?” Kazuha butts in, sliding over a subtle appetizer of some casual chips and assorted dips; the duo of Arnold Palmers is also quick to follow soon after. “I mean, you’re the one who likes to kiss everybody, Sakura.” 

“Not true,” she rebukes. “But I-” 

“If you want to test that theory,” you’re telling the both of them, smiling with eyes trained alternating on looks, sipping a bit of the beverage down, “I think both of you would be convinced to take this somewhere that allows more misbehavior to happen.” 

-

It’s not that you’re not able to remember the events of last night. It’s the fact that you can’t remember what took place last night at all. 

Though your memory starts to stir back to normal at the floating pair of lips hovering over and around your face in the late morning going into the afternoon.

You’re squinting from the overbearing light that breaks through the curtains and and the ambient sounds of traffic in the distance from the open window. There’s also the realization that the mobility in your body is severely hammered, and with good reason. 

A look up past the sheets, and it’s a body pressed next to yours, sprawled with an arm and leg thrown over your thigh and stomach, still trying to be mindful in care not to wake you. She looks up at you with doe eyes before fluttering them shut and nestling deeper into the side of your chest, rubbing her hand across the more she gets comfortable. 

“About time you woke up,” she mumbles, giggling at you, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “I was wondering if you were actually dead or something, not that I would be worried of course.” 

“And if I was?” The question alone is alone is rhetorical as it sounds, blinking up towards the ceiling while adjusting your body meshed into the mattress and in between the sheets, “I feel like you could’ve put in a little more effort to, well, bring me back to life.” 

This girl then sits up, lets the comforter trickle down to her waist, exposing her breasts; the marks still apparent from the night prior, serving to be a good kickstarter for your memory now that most of the alcohol should’ve subsided by now. “Maybe I should’ve put more effort into that, the same way that you handled us,” she tells you, “God, you really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?” 

“Sakura,” you say, and you’re calling her out with a soft laugh bubbling beneath your stomach.. “I’d hate to be honest with you, but I can’t even remember the amount of drinks we had at the place. That’s how you know it’s bad if you were in my shoes.” 

“But you were still sober enough to dick me down after a long week?” 

You don’t give an answer to Sakura’s question, but the way her actions do the talking should already say enough: placing kisses on your shoulder, shuffling herself closer to you, hand slithering to a certain spot where it’s also jogging your memory. 

“Sweetie,” you tell her, a dragged - out sigh leaving your lips once Sakura’s practiced fingers start to touch down around your half-hardened cock. “You wouldn’t mind helping me remember what we did last night, right?” 

Well, of course, she’d say, but instead she laces that phrase in the form of a kiss. Knowing her, she’d be willing to assist in whatever it is that you do. A transactional service: you do one thing for her and she’d do the same. And the repayment could really come in a handful of methods, but this one usually takes top of the list. 

“I don’t,” Sakura answers, giggling softly when you’re trying to push for more, leaning your head to meet her lips, her pulling away just to play a little tease. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t be the only one to do all the work around here. It tarnishes your gentlemanly appearance, but that’s what I think.” 

You pull one of her legs up, shifting her closer to you when she has her lips working you again, hand twisting deliberately around your cock. The pace alone is strategic and slow, but very well practiced and methodical, licking up her palm to ensure she’s soaking up the sensitive surface in every spot possible. 

She also takes the hint with the sliding hand up her waist, straddling over your thighs to where you’re almost pinned against the headboard, grip still apparent around your shaft, keeping steady the more she scooches her hips up beneath your groin. You get lost in the valley of her waist, the defined abs well deserved from the hard work in the gym, the gaze she possesses with those lovely, messy locks in her hair, the pure seductiveness with her hand grazing her breast. You’re being pulled back in with another intoxicating kiss, filled with so much care and and love, and all of that to be replaced with undesirable lust that seems to entrap both of you like the heavenly light breaking through the thin curtains in your room. 

The taste, the scent of her - still present from last night’s tales - are another reminder and trick for your mind to work around against the lingering after effects of the alcohol. 

“Is it working?” She asks, holding herself just above your length with hands fast around your neck, “Or do you still need some help getting your memory up to speed?” 

Sakura then reaches over to the nightstand, a Polaroid captured in between her pointer and middle finger, eyes slanted along with her face, watching you examine the picture in the small snapshot. Another fragment is obtained through this, internalizing the appearance of her marked - up body sprawled up on the same bed you’re lying in, with another body next to her but the face isn’t shown. 

Just as you’re about to say your answer, she catches you by surprise, the press of her lips on you again, hips jumping up in impulse when her pussy settles on top of the underside of your shaft, hands naturally trained to her hips as the slow pecks eventually become more inviting, passionate. 

Maybe the home remedies would’ve been a sufficient option to cure your hangover, but with Sakura, she herself is the best kind of morning after pill that you’ll take the chance over if the opportunity presents itself like it has right now. Her kisses become more intoxicating, hoping that you’ll want her in the same fashion that she’s emitting - a being that’s blessed with a wanting so addicting, it’s impossible to think twice about it. Your mouth makes its way down the fine column of her throat and then to her chest, marking up the same spots as you did the night before, tugging onto one of her stiff nipples with your teeth. 

The grip in your hair with her fingers starts to become tighter, forcing her body onto you more. She holds you there, cheek pressed to the crown of your head, the moans proving to be positive feedback for you, grinding her hips slightly over your cock, making your grasp more protective of her, as if you didn’t want her to leave your presence whatsoever. 

She captures your lips again, hands now on both ends of your face, humming in approval when yours find their way to her ass, clawing your fingertips on the soft skin, setting the tempo of how her pussy lips glide across your cock, bathing it in her slick, and a small feeling of what’s to come in the passing minutes. Her teeth clash with yours on accident, laughing as she scaffolds her kisses down to your cheek, to the pulsepoint, on your trap, biting lightly as a proud badge of honor. Pulling away, she bites her lip, placing another kiss before pressing you back to the wall. 

“Saku,” you sputter, gasping out when her hips slide forward, pressing herself down on your cock that tenses all of the muscles in your legs, straightening them out beneath the sheets for a moment. “Fuck, you–” 

“Shh,” she says, finger on your lips.. “It’s helping a lot, right?” Her hand sliding down your chest, nails grazing across your skin riddled with goosebumps, probably because of how cold the room has gotten but at the same time how the heat between your two continues to build up. “I gave you two hints already, so do what you will with that.” 

“I think it is coming together,” you say, puppy dog eyes in amazement with how Sakura keeps your chin tilted up while the movement of her hips hypnotizes you. “But seriously, holy fuck, I-” 

Sakura pays no attention to your spills of cutoff praise, a moan from her lips and yours let out in unison when she rubs her clit right at the tip, hunching her back over, your face getting caught between the figurative net that is her tits, drawing another mark with your teeth and soothing it after with the flat plane of your tongue. 

If she’s not careful, this right amount of pressure from her pussy over your aching cock might spell disaster for you before even getting started with resuming last night's activities. Her body is already becoming a live wire to feed off on; the taste and how responsive she’s been so far, you’ll play into it for as long as she allows it. 

Luckily, she knows your body well enough as hers, stopping herself as she scooches down. The trail of kisses coming back with the first couple scattering their way down from your lips, cheeks, and neck, now down to the chest. Every touch of her lips across the canvas of your body only sends your mind deeper into that endless barrel of delusion and madness from the fantasies you’ve discovered with Sakura. 

It might also be worth mentioning how she substituted her pussy for her hand again, dainty fingers well placed around your shaft again, pulling it upwards as she buries herself beneath the sheets, lips now planting kisses at the hip and down to the thigh, then turning her attention to your twitching cock. 

You could feel the muscles in your ass clench underneath her body, watching with the comforter raised up to hide her from the open doorway, focused on how her breath grazes along your underside, carefully working her way up to place a chaste kiss to your tip, her tongue getting the first tastes of her favorite snack, swallowing the head first. 

She then inches down a bit, pulling herself up and out, tongue swirling and well trained. The feeling settles in static breaths, watching her be grateful for the reward she’s worked hard for in the short span of time. Her head lowers for another second, you lift your hips up to meet in the middle for her, and she stares at you with glossy eyes. 

The comforter gets lowered as your hands find themselves onon Sakura’s wrists. 

“Saku,” you groan automatically. Sakura’s eyes flutter in approval when she slides her puckered lips further down your length. The tiny press of her perfect lips, her tongue again slathering up the underside again, tracing a vein. 

Her hand finds itself at the base, building up a rhythm in her bobs that you’re all too familiar with. Tongue and the opening past her mouth and into the throat, moving in every move imaginable that she knows that you love and like. 

And it’s also this double-edged sword - a blessing or curse on her terms, how the vibrations coming from her vocal cords wrap around your cock whilst in her mouth, letting you know how ravishing you are for her cravings. 

“Keep the comforter over me.” Sakura commands, purring. Mixing in the swiping of her tongue as well as the erotic kisses she’s spoiling your cock with. Her head goes sideways, treating to one side of the base, dipping down to take one of your balls in her mouth. She’s also aware of how much you like your blowjobs to be wet, so it’s no surprise when she spits all over your cock, ensuring that no spot was left untouched with her saliva. 

You do as she says, letting your hands rest beneath the sheets along with Sakura; the view of the room now opened up past the obstruction, watching as the small bump between your legs indicated Sakura’s head, slowly feeling her head working her way down your cock, gasping when you feel the tip of her nose meet your stomach. 

She laughs with a mouthful of cock in her mouth still when she hears the sound of the back of your head hitting the wall, gripping the fuck out of her wrist on your leg to let her know that she’s doing wonders - in addition to the tension in your hips, bucking as she’s putting enough effort to take all of you down her throat, shifting her head side by side with the small chokes minimized with the comforter over her. 

The pace comes back, but this time with more variety. A hand is wrapped around your shaft, holding it in one spot while her mouth takes you right at the half, gagging as the suction deepens. She’s managed to have your cock slicked up enough to where her fingers are easy to swivel around, doubling down on the stimulation. 

Sakura isn’t one to really be forward when it comes to 'relieving your stress’, but with the amount of practice that she’s had from past experiences,, that thread of thoughts continues to open different avenues to sit on a balcony and ponder on. Earlier this week she felt compelled to have you bust all over her face because of how hot you looked while doing a virtual meeting on the couch; you’re picturing the image in your head - how she looks so good with your lips on you, so practiced, mouth pressuring all the right spots and tongue slicing through a vein and maybe lower. 

“Baby, baby, holy shit,” you’re moaning out again, getting a response from Sakura’s filled-up mouth, picturing the furrowed eyebrows and half-lidded eyes beneath the sheets. She moves your hands up from her wrists and into her hair, prompting you to shove the best inches down into her throat, much to the point where you’re nearly sitting upright to do so. 

This isn’t something to think too hard about: thrusting your hips into Sakura’s face in the morning - into that sweet heat of her mouth, how her nails are creating crevices in your skin, relaxing her mouth and throat enough to stuff nearly all of your length to that one hole of hers. You know that she could go on with this for as long as you’d like, instinctively helping her part a few stray fringes in her hair without even being able to see it. She’s sometimes worried if you’re hurting yourself with every deepthroat she does to you, assuring that having no gag reflex makes these bits in the whole experience a whole lot more pleasurable. 

“Mmph.” 

“This fucking mouth of yours, Saku,” you mumble, not paying any care to the increased volume of gags or the purring vibration of her open mouth creating this vacuum within your stomach - since the addicting suction and clench were about to send you into oblivion. 

“Mmmmph…” 

“God,“ you choke out. One thing you don’t want to accept to yourself or to anyone, for that matter: this was the best fucking way to wake up. 

“So fucking good,” she mumbles.

Another thing you’d hate to admit sometimes is the fact that even though you've been restricted from seeing Sakura take in your cock so well underneath the sheets, that’s traded in for how fast you could feel yourself coming undone again. That sense of pride also put you in jeopardy because every lick, plunge, and slip of your length into her mouth was another step in the pattern in transition to holding herself steady. It also doesn’t help that she tilts her head up, poking the head of your cock on the inside of her cheek, swiping the tongue at the underside, and seriously, this woman. 

The eerie ringing between your ears starts to pop up randomly, your body getting riddled with every overstimulating feeling being thrown right at it. The slickness in her mouth, the grip around the root becoming too tight, the gags becoming intense - your mouth is hanging low as your eyes begin to roll up to the back of your head. She doesn’t plan on playing it safe, and the edge is rapidly getting to you; it’s too fast, too soon, okay, oh fuck, oh fuck. 

“Saki!” a voice calls out past the open door leading into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?” Shit, the tone sounds awfully familiar, and you also notice the trail of clothes along the floor. Another fragment from last night flashes in your brain; though, you’re trying to keep focus while Sakura’s heat surrounds your cock as you hear the sound of feet scraping along the hardwood floor. 

“Saki, I-” The second girl stops short past the door, phone in her hand and hair tousled, but still presentable. She’s wearing your dress shirt from the night before, unbuttoned and parted perfectly enough to where you could see the inner curve of her tits - her long, creamy thighs stand out to you, making your lowered jaw salivate when she cocks her head to the right out of curiosity, hands behind her back with her tongue buried behind her bottom lip. “Well, what do we have here?” 

How could you forget? The additional set of clothes on the floor? The lady next to Sakura’s ruined body covered with cum on the Polaroid photo?

Kazuha. Who else but Kazuha? 

“Good morning,” you greet, paying no attention to your hands as they appear to be all over the place before settling themselves above the sheets, just adjacent to the subtle bump where Sakura’s bobbing head was located. “I was wondering where you went off to.” 

“I couldn’t really sleep, so I thought it would be a good idea to whip up some food to kill time,” says Kazuha, biting her lip at the sight of your hand resting above the oddly shaped form between your legs and underneath the sheets. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked: Where the heck is Saki?” 

“Well,” you try to say, pretending to be oblivious while the heat of Sakura’s mouth trails your mind off into dreamland. “I’ll give it to you straight; she’s not here.” 

“Uh huh,” Kazuha breathes, unamused. “Really though, where did she go?” She asks, raising herself up on her tiptoes, slowly migrating closer to the edge of the mattress, noticing the heels hanging out of the edge. “I could’ve sworn she was next to you when I woke up.” 

“She was,” you reply, keeping that sly smile from breaking out in the frame of your face. “I don’t know if you checked the bathroom if she’s there, but that’s one place to start looking if you ask me.” 

Kazuha pays no attention to your answer, only keeping her eyes fixed on the pair of feet at the edge of the matter, palming an area for what appears to be Sakura’s calf, which makes her stop her controlled bobbing around your cock for a moment, stunned at the sudden press of Kazuha’s hand pulling her head back off of your soaked shaft, gulping because she knows that she got caught. 

A look under the sheets, and Kazuha laughs, locking eyes with you while the offering of a sheepish grin is all that you could give her. “Really?” she asks, examining beneath the white layer to only see Sakura laying on her stomach, bare ass between your legs while you eventually call the act off, lifting off the sheets to give Kazuha a better look at Sakura’s head buried between your thighs, hand still well gripped into the threads of her hair. “If you guys are going to start the fun without me, then don’t even bother hiding it.” 

“We weren't hiding anything at all,” teases Sakura, dipping her head down your cock again that makes you clench at the feeling of her throat. 

“Pretty much seems that way to me.” Kazuha retorts. 

“Who was the one who woke up early again?” 

“Don’t I have a say in this?” You inquire, combing Sakura’s messy hair down while she moves her wrist around your length to occupy herself, causing you to shudder at the delicate touch. “I mean, Jesus, I guess Saku here couldn’t really help herself to me.” 

“She’s the worst.” Kazuha declares, slipping out of your dress shirt, now left with nothing but those lacy black pants she slipped on. 

“He worked you over; let me remind you,” Sakura replies, bearing a smug grin when she looks over towards you. “You finished on her back, and before that, you finished on me twice.” 

The corner of your eye picks up on Kazuha getting back on the bed, shuffling with her knees as she approaches closer to you. You remember again that she’s relatively well known in your circle of friends, considering the fact that she’s one of the four girls that you’re relatively affiliated with around campus. She’s only a year younger than you, but good friends with Sakura (obviously); and there’s also the duo of Chaewon and Yunjin, the pair of them also crazy in their own rights, respectively. 

“Your point being?” The question gets both of their attention, exchanging looks when Kazuha finally reaches to you, guiding your hand to her waist and around her back, Sakura placing neat kisses across your obliques, cock still welded to her hand and stroking gently. 

“I guess the golden question should be asked again,” says Sakura, bending her neck down to lightly tap the tip of your cock to her pouty lips. “Where do you think you’ll finish today? On our face? Down our throats? Our backs? Or maybe…”

“Maybe…” Kazuha teases, lifting her hands with yours up to her face, rubbing the pad of your thumb across her bottom lips, lightly sucking on it that’s insanely hypnotic. “Maybe he could finish inside us?” 

(Sakura and Kazuha: birds of a feather. You can’t fathom with the fact sometimes that they’ll act like angels, dress like crazy, and only have you around to tug the clothes off of them, as they’re babbling listlessly about how you’ll pin one of them down (or both) on the carpet, make paintings with your tongue all over their bodies; the taste of each more exquisite in every round you take them on, fucking them on any article of furniture within reach. )

Kazuha’s not even remotely close to you. You and her are just surface-level friends at best. Heck, she’s only a mere acquaintance in the swing of things, if you want to read deeper into the personal analysis of each other. The only line of connection you have with her is through Sakura. And from the last outing being a solid first impression for all parties involved, you’d laugh to yourself at times because Kazuha could never have enough of you and Sakura. 

“Kazuha, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, pulling her head up with a string of spit still attached to her chin. “You’ve had your fill with him already, literally.” And as she says that, you feel all of the muscles and bones in your body practically melt through the mattress beneath you from the overall presence and weight that these two women have. These two perfect dolls - imagining how their bodies will bend and crumple when you bury your cock inside both of them, shutting one up with the other’s cunt over their mouth. Sakura’s mouth has already made you want to test that edge, and with Kazuha’s? 

“I think we should let him decide who to dump his cum into, no?” Sakura suggests soon after pulling Kazuha’s body next to hers, allowing you to admire the live Renaissance painting taking place before you. She then pats Kazuha’s shoulders twice, much like something straight out of practice: Kazuha quick to get on top of your waist while Sakura scooches down to hold your cock tried and true back into her mouth, the pleasure instantaneous as Kazuha’s lips find yours for the first time today. 

Kazuha’s arms slither over the bridge of your collarbones, letting you indulge in her perky tits, trying to keep your focus on her while Sakura begins to up the ante again in scarfing up your cock. 

“I wanted you all to myself when I woke up first,” Kazuha says, tangling her fingers in your hair, softly moaning when you’re leaving sporadic marks all over her tits, capturing your lips again as you involuntary groan into her mouth, to which she receives it incredibly well. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I decided to leave you be.” 

You’re also wondering about the different things you had on your to-do list in your phone. Out of all times, why in the hell were you thinking about that now? You’ve got your personal love interest inhaling your cock by the second, with another friend in your arms who’s willing to be your personal fuckbuddy just for the sake of it. 

Kazuha’s features break a bit when you’ve got your lips catered to the stiff buts of her nipples, hands wandering across that toned back of hers, tracing the shoulder blades while the grasp in your fingers starts to crunch at the fine skin. 

“I think,” she husks, listening to the occasional gags Sakura’s doing on your cock continuously. “Maybe you’ve been wanting my mouth for a bit too now, huh?” 

(Well, yeah. I mean-) 

Kazuha quickly takes the hint right out of your mind, mirroring the same pathway of kisses that Sakura did not long ago, the same waves of pleasure mixed in with the return of goosebumps spreading across your body, hands still unsure where they play as they’re suspended in the air, giving way as Sakura slips your cock out of her mouth, twisting at the crown once Kazuha meets in the middle. 

The gaze they give you, from the both of them, exchanging glances with each other because these two share a brain cell together - that’s the simple assessment to observe when you’re left speechless. 

Thank God you cleared your morning from whatever schedule that was initially planned, because it wouldn’t have led to having these two in your bed wanting all of you. 

“Do I still have a say in this?’ You attempt to ask, studying how their eyes are full of infectious lust, the creeping grin spreading across their lips. “To be fair, I think I also need to get some morning stretching in before getting on with the morning.” 

“Oh, you’ll get your stretching in.” Sakura muses. 

“You won’t be saying anything from this point on,” declares Kazuha. 

No point in arguing against the pair; the verdict has already been decided. 

Sakura slides her hands up across your chest, laying you back down while Kazuha shuffles down to the original spot where Sakura was occupying, eyes drawn to the peek of Kazuha’s tongue on your cock, switching in between kisses and licks. 

A difference between Kazuha and Sakura when it came to blowing you: Sakura knew the different kinds of tricks from experimenting in the past couple months - what worked and what didn’t. Kazuha, on the other hand, was just yearning for the taste of you in her mouth, sealing her lips with the right press, eager to pick up where Sakura left off. It shouldn’t be making you feel like putty, but that’s exactly the case when she bottoms your cock out, clenching her throat that makes you twitch at the hip joints. 

Sakura gets a hand around your length, tethering you to one angle, Kazuha dipping down with just her mouth, with every bob up being met with a palm twisting around your shaft. The sounds that rumble from deep within your chest are enough proof that the thin walls surrounding you three won’t be quiet for any longer. 

Though your muscles could only stay tense for so long due to the fascinating clench, with Sakura joining back in on the fun that makes you fall slack to the mattress. She’s picking back up with kisses in certain areas of your groin where Kazuha has only glossed over, tongue well working up the seam of your balls, popping on in her mouth while Kazuha’s face is perpendicular, shifting up the side as if she’s playing the flute. 

Her brows furrow for a bit when she puts the head of your cock past her pretty lips, hollowing her cheeks for a moment, swirling the tongue right underneath the tip, enough for you to tense up your length in her mouth, and you’re met with wide eyes, feeling the small release of cum onto her tongue. Kazuha then slips you out for a second, licking her lips as you’re putting everything into your body to not bust this early. 

“I think he’s had enough of me, Saki. What do you think?” Kazuha observes, “Do you want more of him again?” 

“Is that even supposed to be a question? Let me remind you who’s the sluttiest between the two of us.” Sakura grits, voice laced with a firm determination, as her eyes are now filled with fire building deep within the corneas. 

You might be fucked here. But hey, that’s all part of the fun with these two. Remember? 

Not that it was any sort of competition, so to speak, but with how they synergize together, the movements of their mouths all over their shaft, guiding one’s mouth over your cock, taking turns, whispering these sweet instructions of ‘hold here’ and ‘right there, baby,’ and even ‘god, spit all over his cock, baby. You know he likes it wet,’ it’s impossible for you to stand tall, the assault on your shaft turning into a monumental task from here on out. 

Sakura asserts herself over Kazuha, fingers fast around the base, lowering her jaw enough so that the speed of the bobbing can be much quicker, and it is. Judging from how loudly you ground for the both of them to hear, Kazuha’s hands find themselves on the back of Sakura’s head, grabbing handfuls of hair as she guides her down again, making her swallow you. All of you. Until you could feel the vibrations of her hums rattling down your length and into your lower body. 

Kazuha whispers into Sakura’s ear, too difficult to hear since the whines drown out the continuous gagging she’s proffering over your cock, putting her at the base for what feels like an eternity. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She’s still holding you down with the tightness of her throat, the urge to put your hand over Kazuha’s, prolonging the unbelievable sensation, and three taps to your hip signal that Kazuha’s had enough. 

She pulls her head back up, coughing; these destroyed attempts at sobs breaking through the air. You’re left gasping, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you as they both tend to your soaked cock, looking back up as they move in unison for a moment, then switching off different places around the underside while the moans just keep on coming. Hands are also fast to comb back the light obsidian and honey golden locks, not wanting to ruin their flow when they meet to kiss with your cock caught in between the crossfire. 

“You girls are something else,” you husk, ears filled with the sounds of their giggles as they both continue with their makeout session, alternating with mouths and occasionally your cock still in both of their hands. The wet kisses being shared were an absolutely wonderful sight to see, and though you forget that you could also have fun for yourself, taking the liberty to press both of their lovely lips on the sides of your shaft, laughing and moaning up and over the length while you just watch. And you keep watching, feeling the puffed-up chest of yours almost rise to where your chin’s at, sucking your gut inwards as your hips do the familiar motion of raising themselves upwards to the both of them. 

“He’s ready for us, hmm?” Sakura asks, wiping a patch of drool away from her chin. “Kazu, you get to ride him first. I’ve got to make sure he’s well rewarded for his patience, okay?” 

Kazuha nods, watching as she primes herself, touching her slick folds as Sakura shuffles herself up past your chest, getting her thighs buried into your armpits, her pussy hovering right over your face, not wanting to wait another second as you pull her hips down, moaning into her core as Kazuha teases her walls with the head of your cock just for good measure. 

“Don’t, fuck, please." Sakura pleads, taken by shock when your tongue swipes up her pussy lips, taking in the sweetness while making note of how slick she’s gotten for you. The pads of your fingers grip on her legs a bit tighter, her nose shifted up to rub her clit slightly, and she yelps. Kazuha laughs right behind her, sinking her warmth over your shaft, eliciting a moan that gets transferred into Sakura’s leaking hole, licking up the folds when Kazuha finally settles your cock into her. 

“Shit!” 

Sakura clutches her fingers into your hair, moaning to no avail as you quench that thirst you’ve been searching for this entire morning, and she starts to grind her pussy lips across your face, rolling slowly as your mouth hangs open, letting the sounds of rapture spill out of her mouth with every lick you do to her. 

“You’re so good,” Sakura moans out, feeling the latch of your lips onto the nub, flattening out your tongue again across her folds, earning another moan in approval. You smile against her hips when your ears are filled with the endless phrases of cursing that you’ve heard way too often, but it never gets old. Ever. “Why are you so... so fucking good at this?” 

So you try to speak, but all that’s said is buried underneath the drain of her pussy, moaning out as a proper response as Kazuha picks up her pace in riding your cock, feeling the clash of her hips with yours, bottoming out your length that makes you lock your knees to ensure that the lower half of your body is stable enough for her frame. 

Kazuha increases the chances, setting her legs up in a squatting position, keeping herself upright with just her hands on your waist, letting her face onto Sakura’s sweaty back. She lets herself float over you for a minute, taking the chance to catch her breath while you begin to piston her pussy, thrusting upwards. You’re met with a low groan spilled out of Kazuha’s lips in response to your action, only to be drowned out when she lowers her hips to meet with yours, the primal slaps filling up the room and bouncing around the walls. 

The inevitability of cumming a full-fledged broken dam into Kazuha’s cunt was a thought filling your mind, but you try to not think too much about it; Sakura’s pussy was still a thing to deal with, maintaining your pace with every lick you do to her clit.

Effort was everything; that was something to keep in mind when it comes to fucking Sakura. She loves it when you get so into it just like her, because you too can’t get enough of ruining this perfect girl every chance you get. Kazuha was also on the same boat, and by how your thighs continue to shake at the weight of her hips coming down on you again and again, it’s impossible to ignore how good she is too - keep it coming, Sakura’s telling you, in the lovely sounds filling up your ears coming from her and Kauhza. You’re fucking me so good, baby. I love it when your cock throbs inside me. Please give it to me. I know you want to. 

Kazuha knows you’re close, and Sakura’s not far off in the lost rails of rhythm. Her pussy is flooding on your face, the please becoming more erratic and desparte.

“God, I’m going - I'm going.” 

The words coming out of you are buried underneath Sakura’s thighs. 

"Fuck, I can’t with your fucking-ah!” 

Kazuha does one drive back down your length, and then one more for good measure. Sakura’s hips tremble over your face, quivering and hips trembling as you drag her pussy right across your tongue. Your arms latch somewhere above Sakura’s ass, matching her clutches with the digits buried in your locks, a fire lit under your chest as Kazuha’s cunt grips you like a knot - the heat from their bodies and yours submerging you as if you were in lava. Kazuha bucks forward, face hitting Sakura’s back, holding herself up with her hands as the pounds from thrusting upwards become increasingly unstable, her ravine of a pussy getting you closer and closer to that edge while you can’t even think straight. 

A swipe up the tongue on Sakura’s folds. Then three more, nibbling on her clitoral area as her thighs start to press inward from both sides of your head. She keeps grinding, dragging her swollen lips across the ridges of your face, mewling with a hand on the headboard, giggling as she mirrors the movements from grinding on your cock earlier. 

Kazuha slams her hips down, and not in a nice fashion since, well, fuck, legitimately, her cunt seizes your cock, smearing her sweet juices all over the rough bits, a vein that’s concealed with her walls, keening when she feels the swollen head shoved up inside her twitch that really makes her feel like mash. Her nails are ripping apart the skin on your stomach, searching for a hold to grab on to. It’s all futile when your body’s elevated to a temperature where there’s glistening sweat all over - her hands slip off and land on the cushions, priming the angle where you’ve hit before, fucking her deeper. She hisses when your balls lightly tap the pucker of her ass, just a bit, but that turns her on so much more. 

“This cunt,” you mumble out, mouth still full of Sakura’s pussy, “Kazu, I can’t, babe. Your pussy is unreal.” 

“Okay,” Sakura flatly says, “fuck.” And Kazuha just laughs, fluttering her eyes shut when you’ve latched onto the lower part of her thighs. “Keep working on him, Zu. You know he loves your pussy that much, right?” 

“Yes, yes, yes, God.” 

“Cum inside her.” Sakura instructs, and it’s a bid that you had no second thought of doing. “How nice of her to be your little personal fuckdoll, hm? To just handle her in ways that you want her to, nice and sticky and all fucked out, because you know she’ll come back for more, baby.” 

The next move she does is so calculated, you can’t even tell or determine if she did it on the fly: placing Kazuha’s chin on the small divot in her collarbone, the image of her closed eyes, the frizzes in her wavy hair slightly covering part of her face, shaken because of how your hips drive upwards into her. And Sakura just does the simple motion of putting her palm on the side of her face, parting her mouth open while you can only watch with your eyes since the lower half of your face is still attached to Sakura’s pussy. 

“Saku,” a frail call in the last seconds, “She feels so good.” 

“Fuck your cum into her, baby,” Sakura growls again, clawing the sides of your head as she ruts her hips deeper into your mouth. “That’s the only thing that matters. Until she’s full with the fucking thickness of it.” 

You managed to fuck Kazuha through her climax a minute or two ago, and now she’s repaying you by fiddling through yours. 

It’s an unraveling feeling when you push past that brink, filling up her tiny cunt with cum, molding her fuckhole to every detail of your member. And she’s mouthing, Sakura’s expression filled with glee, saying, Aw baby, god, yes, would you look at her? She loves it when you fuck a nice load into her, fresh and hot, and-

“Christ,” you grit out, hoarsely, letting the pulses channel out of your body, Dick still grinding the deepest parts of her stomach, cum splattering every spot to be left untouched inside. The throbs are still happening, but with every hold you have, your cock starts to die out in the heat of her hips. 

The senses are all over the place when Kazuha slips her pussy off of your cum-soaked cock, Sakura’s hips now hovering above your face, shifting off when you still see the constellations flash in your eyes, vision blurring and deblurring to the image of Kazuha paying no attention to Sakura’s state, sloppily placing her lips with hers again, rough. 

These two kiss like friends, maybe friends who have had a little bit too much to drink in order for them to act like this. They’ve done this with Yunjin and Chaewon for sure, based on the stories that you’ve heard. With or without the alcohol, they both show this kind of affection because it's natural, watching as Sakuraa’s hands find Kazuha’s head, Kazuha slithering her arms behind Sakura’s back, letting the passion take over both of their bodies. They both take the time to indulge in each other's features: hands wandering, mouths on nipples, gripping necks and pulling waists closer, Sakura teasing Kazuha’s well-worked cunt, a fingertip soaked with a bit of your cum, licking it cleanly off her fingers. 

And the hums. The fucking hums that these two are spilling out. You’re basically drooling when they pick up where they left off with the kissing, paying no attention to you as your hand starts to slowly slide over your cock, palming it before your fingers start to wrap around the length one by one. You’re equally fucked just like them, but there’s no problem with that. 

Both of them take as much time as they needed - tender lips and tongues canvassing every part of their exposed bodies, eyes recording every second of this account - in hopes that you can play this back in your mind as Kazuha smiles with full delight to match your expression, drinking in the sight of the show presented right on your lap. 

“I think Saku’s ready for you,” Kazuha hushes, lightly dragging her fingertips across the taut line of Sakura’s abs, resting on the underside of her breast, like a showoman who is trying to entice like she’s selling the latest model of a car. Her hand then goes down to Sakura’s clitoral area, rubbing it in circles when the mountains of pillows and sheets are unearthed from the mattress, ruffling and crumpling with the movements of their legs and feet, being pulled by your hand to the edge of the bed. “She made a mess all over your face, didn’t she? Now you’ve got to pay her back.” 

You’ve gotten out of bed in a heartbeat multiple times before. One morning was because you were late to class; the other time was to follow the view of Sakura’s bare ass tiptoeing into the kitchen for another meal before starting the day - and here you were, with a rearranged order in what probably feels like slow motion but one constant movement throughout, hand never leaving the meat and bone of Sakura’s ankle, assisting Kazuha by reeling Sakura, who’s shying away, but this is exactly what she wants. 

“Our little baby of a whore is deprived of a thick cock filling up her guts,” Kazuha sighs, expression a bit fatigued with the way she’s still coming down from her high. “So do you think you can do me a favor? Stuff up her cunt nice and tuck first, then ruin her after. How does that sound?” 

You try to answer, at least, taken aback when Kazuha’s got her long fingers along the line of your hardening shaft and Sakura’s spreading her legs wider and wider. She’s holding you close. Closer. Aiming - tried and practiced - towards the heat of Sakura’s. It’s a hook, line, and sinker when the head of your cockparts her walls, slippery and still leaking, feeling every nerve ending in her hips trickle a thousand volts inside. 

“Make her beg for it. I think you’ll be able to fuck her filthy with how she’s wanting to cum for you.” Kazuha’s tone drops down low, almost agitated. “This is payback for what she did to me last time, so I’ll let you be the judge.” 

And when the opportunity presents itself for you to determine that said call, it’s never a clear answer from the start if you’re willing to be honest with yourself. The one of many tricks Sakura has on her exposed sleeve, enchanting you with a heavy desire - the kind of want that could never be fully fulfilled. And, even in the days where it does feel like that, it doesn’t even come close to satisfying you. 

When you lock eyes with her, wide open to match with her parted mouth, bottoming her all the way with your cock tapping to that spot that has her keening, holding back her sigh as your groin meets the underside of her thighs. 

“Feel good, baby?” You ask Sakura, relieved at how she’s come to grips around your shaft burying inside her, head tilting back, clutching on to Kazuha’s forearm as your fingers find their place along her thighs. “Hm,” you assess soon after, inching your cock past the halfway point, “sure looks like it does.” 

Sakura’s mouth wobbles, gasping, her eyes draw shut, and her face flushes pink. She takes in your cock so well, the slipping slick of her thighs sounding off this noise of pure squelching; her whole upper body moves up in reaction; stomach bucking, chest puffing up to the open air, pushing in the deep area that has you speechless. 

The bottom palm of her hand grazes your groin, adjusting to how your cock molds around her cunt, hands shifting to the underside of the knees, using the rising octaves in her moans to indicate that she’s receptive and expressive in approval. Amidst the growing chaos the lower half of your body is going through, Kazuha takes liberty in massaging Sakura’s breasts, rubbing her stomach as it bloats from the air being exhaled in whines and expletives. 

“Ugh, fuck, you." She’s blabbering at this point. 

And there’s you, finding your rhythm, your groove, enjoying the way her soft skin maps out across your rough and grainy fingers, how it sinks in so smoothly - much closer to melting, it seems - something of that degree. 

“-mhm,” and there’s the “can’t baby, ah, ngh-” with more of, “-dick feels so good.” It’ll fall between the cracks, piercing deep, pulling out and sliding it across her folds just to play as a tease, because she deserves it without any reason, penetrating back in to pick up right where you left off. 

Sakura’s body is that one journey that you can never get tired of looking at. How her thighs are just immaculately perfect, that waist offering up those sets of abs on a pedestal, the way her tits rebound on the upstroke when you’ve got past the spot of bottoming her out - where your cockhead grips at the soft spot where it’s been at multiple times, squeezing and swallowing and resting where it should belong in every case with her. 

Kazuha shifts her body from the side of Sakura, getting lower to rest her head right above her waist, a trail of kisses circling over her stomach and belly button, getting caught in the throes of pleasure when you realize that Sakura’s got two fingers inside Kazuha, helping her treat herself and assisting the self-induced action. 

“God, Saki, look at him all fucked out in your pussy, huh?” Kazuha bites down in an area on her waist just above her cunt, nose brushing down lower to her clit, hand curling around to the bottom of her inner thighs, keeping it out of your way. “She wraps you so well, doesn’t she? Finally getting fucked again after last night?” 

“Don’t you know it,” you answer, and there’s no other need to spiel something that’s already been known; Sakura can make you shut the fuck up with her mouth, her cunt, and the way that she talks pure sex. You love how she’s nothing more than mush and warmth. A fine tapestry that’s meant to stay untouched, but you’ll tear all the edges down where the seams have already been shredded. 

You get thrown off when Sakura’s pussycle clenches at the hilt, where the contraction captures the air bubbling in your lungs, turning the legs into jelly, and the bobble forward into her lying body on the mattress only punctuates without saying a word. Kazuha laughs at the sudden change in weight on her head, causing you to stand back up with your knees to the bed holding you up, drawing away as Kazuha gazes at your silken cock, soaked with Sakura, lightly teasing when you’re pushing the tip in and out for good measure. 

Kazuha rises from her bent state, lazily putting her lips on yours as the pace slows a bit in the lower half of you - darting your cock in with one firm stroke. Hard. The strokes themselves are now more impactful, and ripping, the snap is becoming more assertive. “Fuck, sir, fucking,” Sakura cries out, the coil of her cunt tying you in. Kazuha sets herself back to where she was, resting her cheek on her waist as every entry with your cock, body bouncing on the soaked sheets from all the sweat and leaking slick coming out. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, ah.” 

Sakura’s hands hold at her thighs, gyrating upwards at every point where your cock buries at the deepest depth, swelling at the unimaginable clench to where she mewls, wailing but cute at how she’s tuckered out. 

“Goodness gracious,’ You spit out, in a half-sob, the moans and utterances and simple replies to Kazuha’s endless mumbling, repeating in one same fashion or the other. “You’re so-so fucking wet, and for what? God-” 

“Look at what you did to her,” Kazuha tuts, biting on the inside of her thigh, and Sakura basically yelps. A mix of pain and pleasure, the best of both worlds. You tug yourself out of her cunt, slapping the swollen cockhead on the nub of her clit, sighing at the way she shudders. “Do you think she deserves to finally let go?’

The responses that pass through your lips are just staggered breaths, tumbling down as the slaps start to line up with your heartbeat. A fine point in pace, your internal metronome that only leads to the dwindling doom of your thick cock thrusting Sakura’s tight pussy. 

“Love it,” Sakura mutters, head fallen to the provided pillow courtesy of Kazuha; she’s sobbing. “Love your cock, so fucking much.” 

“Mhm honey,” and the pet names in themselves are just the ad-libs thrown into the mix, with the right touch of pheromones and increase of dopamine being shot up to the brain. “Get it in there nice and deep; I want her to own it, feel it, because this cock is all hers.” 

“-god.” 

The riled-up exhale comes in reflection of the ecstasy, every bit of praise coming from Kazuha’s lips playing hand-in-hand with Sakura’s moans filling your ears. 

“Think you can hold out a bit longer, Saki? Kazuha croons, head turned the opposite way as she admires the sucked-out gaze Sakura wears on her face, meeting your eyes again. “I’m doing you a favor since he fucked my brains out last time, so be thankful. You greedy bitch.” 

“Shut your fucking-ugh.” 

“Don’t even think about keeping it in,” Kazuha doubles down, dragging her nails across Sakura’s inner thigh, forcing her legs wide open once more, almost as if she’s doing the splits across the length of the mattress. “He’s so perfect for you, hitting all of the right spots and all the right places? In that creaming pussy of yours? How his fucking fat cock splits you up into oblivion? Come on now, just-” 

“My fucking god,” you blurt out, in complete shock at the words that were spilling out of Kazuha’s mouth like emptying an open bucket full of water. “You are a piece of work.” 

Kazuha just laughs, taking the compliment to heart, with some mischief still showing with her closed eyelids. Sakura whines, going silent, shaking as your fingers bruise the same spots where the grip on her waist was first. 

The lust starts to boil to a point where nothing else is given a second though, and it’s been that way for a while now, fueled with a hunger that could replace the morning cup of coffee with ease, watching as your cock vanishes into Sakura’s pussy, the moans hitting similar notes that are now just echoes of the night prior. 

“Ah, uh, almost there." Sakura, once forward in her advances, now reduced to simple begs and pleads, the gaze half-lidded, back arching off the rumples in the sheets. She’s so fucking wet for you, and that’s another mental note that’s circling back in your head for probably the tenth time this morning so far, and might worth mentioning that it’s still in the fucking morning. 

“Oh? Make her do it, babe.” Kazuha orders the go-ahead, a hand - well, actually, both hands full of Sakura’s breasts, claiming it as hers. “I think she’s willing to be killed while being split open.” 

You’re paying zero attention to the words - grunting and passing air - as the piledriving only seems to be the sole constant that your mind and body seem to be focusing on. 

It’s a bit disorienting how your vision blacks out before coming back with color, the mind playing tricks as if you were getting your head dunked underwater and pulled back up, gasping for air. The thrusting never stops, with every fiber in your body, pooling it into fucking Sakura’s open cunt in the best way possible. Her hips are past the breaking point, grinding up against yours. She’s wailing, towards hyperventilation, eyes rolling upward to the back of her head, mouthing, close. You can easily tell, I’m so fucking close for you. Keep ramming your dick into me. 

“Saki,” now you’re saying the other nickname, and Kazuha grins, finally having her moment. “Fuck, baby-” 

Sakura looks away as Kazuha looks up, chin lightly tapping your hips - the devilish smile she possesses - it’s a rare occurrence, but that look could haunt you in your dreams: “Use her pussy, fuck everything up inside of her, I don’t care. Get her creaming all over you. I want to hear her screaming.” 

And Sakura fucking screeches. The better sound to wake up to rather than the annoying alarms on your phone. 

She holds still, every part of her body tensing - knees locking, toes curling, back arching and unarching - as Kazuha holds her down. The noises she’s making are loud enough to slip through the thin walls, and you can guess another complaint from the neighbors would be on the cards. Kazuha takes liberty into treating a barrage of kisses across Sakura’s body, you trying to drag your cock a little bit in, barely managing to drag yourself out. A brief effect from the aftershocks: her midsection freezing as the clamp around your cock starts to subside. 

Sakura whimpers with closed lips, shuddering when you finally slide out of her properly-fucked cunt, leaning down to kiss and kiss and kiss, dick taking the fresh, cold air as it rests along the bottom portion of her waist. Your hands get on her neck, helping her up with the arch in her back, hot and slicked and sweaty. Kazuha gives you two some space, playing as the makeshift crane to pull Sakura away from the clutches of your hands and lips, face racked in disappointment when Kazuha looks at you, smiling, tending to the mess that’s reforming in her arms. 

Kazuha then moves across the bed with her knees, a change in guard from Sakura to her when her body crashes into yours, the press of her lips good enough for you to fall on your back as the arms and chest eventually come into their own, molding with the canvas of your skin to mesh. She’s literally perfect for you - the way she wants more of you - in the taste of your lips, how your fingers explore every area of the framework that’s tensing and relaxing, reaching for spots that get her riled up in every way imaginable. 

You kiss and lick and grab wherever you can. A hand palming the firm skin of her ass, soft and plump. The hickeys and other various bite marks are an earned badge of honor for Kazuha to be proud of, her nails digging into the skin where your shoulders are as the grip on her ass-cheeks starts to become more and more possessive, slapping it as her forehead accidentally clatters yours. 

“Such a klutz,” she assesses, landing a loose kiss on the bottom of your chin. “Still able to think straight after fucking Saki relentlessly?” 

“What do you think?” You rebuke, dazed, as Kazuha gets a finger on a strand of your hair at the front, mimicking her messy bedhead bangs. 

“I mean,” she slips her tongue across your bottom lip, biting along the patch of few hairs, pulling her head back when she notices that your hands have never left the curve of her ass. “I think you’ve got more to offer, and here’s a bonus: there’s one hole that you haven’t filled yet.” 

It’s the most simple movement she could do, with any intent that she wanted to fabricate behind it. She turns around, swaying her ass from the left side as she’s on her hands and knees on the bed, stretching as far as she could possibly get them to reach. The arch starts to form along the fine lines of muscle displayed on her back, arms out straight as her legs find a proper foothold, spreading themselves for you to fill in the space. 

Your hands have never been quick to get themselves on something that you want, and this was the only exception; it’s appalling how easy the soft skin wraps around the underside of your fingers, picturing the look on her hidden face where you can only see the back of her head: in her lidded eyes, the swollen lip being captured between her teeth, the mumbling of insistence when all you’re just doing is feeling her out, resting your dick above her unfathomable cheeks, grazing the underside in the small divot at the middle, pressing them closer together, her hips reeling back and into your thighs, the listless moan spilling out of your mouth when the friction tightens at the belly of your cock. 

In fact, that’s the only thing you keep your focus on, not paying any sort of attention to Sakura when she shuffles out from beneath Kazuha’s lowered and bent body, doing this sort of army crawl to the nightstand for a certain thing. You’ve seen the arsenal that she has in that drawer, and some of the items were actually put to use in the last outing with Sakura and Kazuha. The instinctual thing that you do also is lean over to Kazuha’s backside and get one side of your face nestled into her as your hands wrap their way around her stomach, holding her close. 

Not much is said aside from the shaky exhales and whines, filled in with the occasional smacks of your lips across skin. Until-

“My turn to watch,” announces Sakura, a slim bottle in her hand, wrapped with those long, dainty fingers of hers. 

You blink once, and she’s on the edge where the nightstand is. You blink again, and she’s already made her way back to you, cap opened with the noise similar to an obvious crack of a stick, like breaking the silence in a quiet forest. 

Sakura’s hands become slick, as if her hand were made of the smooth liquid itself. The grip she has on you is breathlessly attractive: palm sliding across the length, strategizing the strokes at every curve and pull while she’s kissing you. 

“Do you have any idea how long she’s been wanting this?” Sakura questions, implicating you as she slaps your cock along Kazuha’s ass. “You’ve told me before: she’s made for you.” 

Utterly speechless is what you are, but maybe you should say something to-

“Gotta fuck her sensless,” Sakura suggests, head perpendicular to yours while the cock in her hands starts to graze the surface of her ass, nudging the opening by just a teeny bit, a small preview of what’s to unfold. “That’s what she wants. What she needs. Isn’t that right, Zuha?” 

“Mhm.” Kazuha hums in agreement, a throaty moan to follow after Sakura gets both hands full of her ass, spreading her open. “All of it,” Kazuha murmurs, chest pulled inwards when you start to descend; the more you fall, the more faster the air expels out of her chest, with a shout thrown in - a last resort call of your name: “fuck, I, hngh, god.” 

You hold for a moment, pussy leaking by the second as she’s taking you fully, expanding to compensate for the girth. An enchanted feeling washes over your body, grabbing to whatever you can of Kazuha’s ass - holding, a still in this moment of time - and this was the only grace period you’ve given her much more than yourself, head falling back because her hips do this movement in your hands, and 

“For fuck’s sake,” you spit, because the suffocating tightness and heat surrounding your cock is one to be unbearable. The pins and needles of pleasure prick all over your nerves as the fine weight of Kazuha’s ass takes you in and out, until you’ve retreated from the impending chamber, pausing as your cock twitches. 

Then you drop the pin inside her, all the way. 

“Fuck!” Kazuha gasps, sewing her eyes shut. Her hands start to grip the sheets. 

There isn’t much time after for her to get used to this, as you start to drive into her more, fucking out every cry that you could suck out of her lips. Her ass does this little ripple effect with every slam, making her feel the thickness where it hurts, hugging your cock in all directions. It’s a gradual push from here on out, building your sense of rhythm again, just like how she was riding you earlier. 

“Finally,” Sakura breathes, kissing Kazuha’s ass cheek, getting her fingers buried on the curve, kneading, showing, and biting. 

The thrusts keep coming. One stroke and the next. Each one after is harder than the last. Your eyes are locked onto Sakura’s side profile, watching your cock disappear in the valley of Kazuha’s ass with every passing movement. Kazuha herself looks over her shoulder, a hand out reaching for something, maybe her thigh, hoping to spread herself even wider so that it’ll be easier for you to stretch her tight hole out. You could feel that she wants more, throwing her ass back to match her strokes with yours, the slaps becoming louder and louder, similar to the moans. 

“So fucking tight,” you grit, your vision loosing sharpness at the top layers. Sakura’s smiling into Kazuha’s sweaty skin. “Like, nobody else could have this but me. Shit-” 

“It’s not every day that you’re gaping a pretty girl’s ass.” Sakura says it excitedly, her head rocking along with the movement of Kazuha’s body in every slam. “Fucking her hole and opening up just for you. God, Kazu, can you believe this? He’s taking you so fucking well; I love the way he just fucks you, like that’s the only thing he’s meant to do. Just drop your pants whenever, and he’ll just take you right then and there- get you craving - over and over and over again, and it could be everything, if you just let him.” 

Kazuha claws deeper into the bedsheets, nearly tearing the fabric, Sakura’s face on Kazuha’s ass-cheek, closing her eyes to feel the motion more. 

Every inch of her body is washed with bliss, curdling in the layers beneath the skin, a form of want that could only, truly, be achieved by you. 

“Baby,” Sakura’s calling out to you this time, face flustered when you realize that she’s got a hand magnetized to the heat between her legs; fingers in its own cyclone, a paradigm of its own when she’s screwing in two, no-three digits inside her cunt, parting her folds in an identical fashion the way that your cock rips open Kazuha’s ass and fucking the lights out of her since that’s the primary reason why she’s connected to you, and Sakura even sit back and watch this unfold in front of her eyes, bear witness to you fucking her friend with every matching heartbeat to the claps, “She could be a heartbreaker for you, and you could fuck her ego until she finally knows her place, like the motherfucking slut that she is.” 

There’s no sense of control left in your bones anymore. All you just do is let Sakura’s words fill your ears as your fingers dig deeper into the firm cheeks of Kazuha, the warm embrace of oil trickling down the plugged-up, puckered ass as your cock picks up the dripping remnants. 

“I-” is what you make of a poor attempt from Kazuha, the vowel replaced with a flat-out gasp, since the irreplaceable feeling of power goes a little bit over the top of your head, a firm thrust to send the message instead as the fucked-out girl at the front of your thighs tumbles out a voice that’s wheezing and whining in croaks. “Fuck. Yes, fuck, fuck, babe.” 

Sakura doesn’t really say many words to you soon after, just mouthing yours, yours. She’s so yours. And even if you could describe the surreal feeling of bending a beautiful girl over across the canvas of your mattress and sheets, there’d probably be nothing else left to say from you. She’s just urging you to keep on trucking Kazuha’s ass, demanding that you’d fuck her until the wheelchair sitting in the dark corner of your closet proved to be a viable solution for her poor legs - when there’s all but that satiated with the proper fucking you’ve delivered. 

“Aw, you like it when she’s all fucked out for you, huh?” Sakura keeps on talking, smiling her heart away, paying no attention to the obscene sounds that Kazuha keeps letting out. You try to come up with a response to Sakura, but you’re lost at the letters caught in the back of your tongue, watching as Kazuha’s beautiful ass envelops all of your cock, balls lightly tapping her cunt when you’ve got it down to the hilt. The moans hit a hitch at the throat, only for it to be drowned out with the unrelenting thrusts into her tight ass and flushing your thighs with hers. 

A snap from one slow hit. Then another. You keep fucking in, one hand alternating between from the rounded end of Kazuha’s waist to her ass-cheek and the other buried into the messy locks of Sakura’s, holding her head in place as the grip around your cock burns across the surface, not failling to keep the pace consistent as it increases the more Kazuha’s walls smother your cock with ease. 

“-perfect,” Kazuha manages to say, the syllables tumbling on top of each other as her whines do this staccato format the more your thrusts chop up the sound. You’re driving your hips so up to the frontside that the ripples start to catch Sakura’s cheek, who’s still laughing when she hears Kazuha try to speak, fucked at the cock stabbing inside her for all that it’s worth. “Stretching me so good, baby, you’ve got it, yes, right there,” and that’s when you see her head fall to the pillow, screaming with all her might when you’ve brought her to the point which- 

“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” Sakura scowls, fist full of Kazuha’s hair, forcing her up. The arch in her back is deeper than before, giving you a little more space for you to take inside her ass, inching deeper. This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the wetness and pulsing throbs your cock emits when you bury yourself in, holding as the grip from her tight ass is something straight out of a mythical creation. “I want him to hear you. Use you. Lower your head again, and I swear to fuck-“

This happens on impulse, or maybe this was the one thought sitting in the back of your mind that couldn’t rest there any longer, pulling your cock out of Kazuha’s ass, finger, and thumb quickly to be wrapped around the base. You’ve got Sakura’s head in your hand still, dragging her across the dune of Kazuha’s cheek, closer to the head of your cock, and she takes the hint fully, lowering her jaw until her teeth pass the head, enveloping you, eyes fluttering shut, and humming out of surprise. 

“You talk too much,” you’re saying to Sakura, mouthful of your cock, tongue slipping and pulling with her head in the ways that she knows you’ve ascended from before. “I thought I had you up on the ropes earlier; guess I didn’t do much, but we can fix that later.” It’s incredibly difficult for you to not lose your insanity, transitioning from Kazuha’s tight ass and into the addicting heat of Sakura’s mouth, taking you past the halfway mark, head dipping past her soft palette and into the hollow of her throat, cheeks puffing and coughing up spit to soak the areas already covered from the wetness in Kazuha’s ass. “Fucking-” 

Sakura’s sharp inhale for air sends you in check, as her welled-up eyes watch your cock sink back into Kazuha’s ass, face crinkling when the tightness is a little hard to break into before you’re sliding back in and out with ease. 

So it just flows the way it goes. A turn-taking kind of structure you’ve established. You thrust inside Kazuha’s tight ass for a few strokes, pull yourself out, and nestle your cock into those pretty lips of Sakura’s. The pair of them humming in approval and giggling under their breaths as you take the fun for yourself, using one hole after the other. Kazuha’s face is riddled with sweat, the hot pink shade running across her cheeks. Sakura’s is also the same, welled-up tears as she holds herself down the hard line of your cock. 

These sluts. Your sluts. Many would’ve wished to be in your shoes. But you’re the lucky pick among the both of them. 

“My good girls,” you mumble, groaning as you up the takes in one tight ass and one pretty fucking mouth. “Could die like this every day, using you two like this. A fucking dream.” 

Sakura guides you back into the rim of Kazuha’s ass, hand posing as the makeshift pipe when your cockhead nudges back into her, groaning like crazy to the added pressure of her fingers and palm. Your body twinges a bit, gradually building up the slaps with every follow-through more quickly than the previous hit. 

“My, fuck- holy fuck-” 

“What’s the matter?” Sakura’s fast to assess the condition as Kazuha’s moans start to bounce around in every wall and corner in the room, watching as you keep fucking yourself into Kazuha and her ass, “Too much to handle? Oh god, you’re about to bust, aren’t you? Kazuha look, he’s going to cum again soon for you, baby.” 

You could probably hear the sirens calling within your head. Kazuha’s hips are moving on their own and not in line with yours. Tensing, tensing, then relaxing, and it flip-flops. You can see in the muscles and how they sort of cramp up per se, how her moans are a lot more vocal as to earlier, when you feel down her cunt and be surprised how she’s oozing in your fingers, her ass clenching around your cock, clinging.

And the brain overload to not blow it makes you pull out, flicking your cock up in the air as you watch the arch in Kazuha’s back deepen. Sakura’s got a palm full of the oil, slathering it nicely - hand coiling you where it feels right. 

“One more push,” Sakura pleads, resting her head down the midline of Kazuha’s back, both hands on her ass, spreading her open for you, “please, just for us.” 

So. 

You do as Sakura says, pressing your cockhead back into the soft coil of muscle, Kazuha’s body greatly accepting you - grabbing and stretching and inviting all of you. She’s buried her head back into the cushion, muffling the pained whines, pulling to the right so that the breathing is a bit easier to tolerate, and the rush soon after is a spell of your own. 

Sakura’s hands hold firm on the plush of her ass, pulling outward and pressing inward when you’ve sheathed yourself, the vice ten times tighter than what it already is. Kazuha’s ass clutches around the head of your cock, and with every pound that you dish out to her, the more audible the clashes of skin are. Your upper body is starting to buck forward, the lower half losing composure in the routine that it built for itself, Kazuha’s mouth is parted open just like Sakura's - mouthing - keep going, yes, fuck my ass, just like that, god, your cock, just need you to-

“Babes, I’m going-” 

That’s really all you say when you’re revealing your cock away from her ass, cumming all over her uncontrollably. 

Shots of white are painted over porcelain. Spent, slick, and messy porcelain. You’re trying to readjust the grip around your cock, pointing your tip inside the open hole of Kazuha, shooting a measly two or three spurts, hips trembling as she gets help from Sakura to hold her ass open for you.

Sakura, unfortunately, gets caught in the crossfire. Earring a few scattered streams of your release all over her face, some in her mouth, and plenty into her hair. 

“Mmmm,” breathes Sakura, tongue running across both upper and lower profiles of her lips, hooking the taste of you on her buds. Kazuha still has her face down, buried in the sheets, ass up, as she could legitimately not move a single muscle in her body after being wrecked for god knows how long. She’s softly sobbing into the pillowcase; bruises spread out across her skin, visible red prints highlighted on her cheeks, but she’s managed to calm down. The breathing is starting to stabilize. “Look at that: two loads from you this morning. You should be proud of yourself.” 

“Should’ve came inside my ass.” Kazuha suggests, finally letting her frame fall to the side as you and Sakura both observe the obvious drip of cum oozing out of her. “This doesn’t technically count, but I want a do-over.” 

You and Sakura both exchange this look with a singular eyebrow, a dragged-out grin soon to follow. “Such a slut for you.” Sakura observes. 

“That isn’t really new news to anyone.” 

-

Some hours later, things get slow. It’s the weekend, or the weekday? You’re too lost to put that setting back in your head, primarily because: 

“Can you guys keep it down?” Sakura asks loudly, not willing to turn her head around away from the TV when you bend your knees a bit and slip inside Kazuha’s cunt against the kitchen counter, hiking up one of your borrowed shirts you gave her to reveal the handprint still apparent on her ass. “I can’t watch the movie if I hear two horny rabbits getting it on behind me.” 

“Fuck you,” Kazuha rasps, mewling when you’ve buried yourself deep to the cornerstone of your cock. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have said no to getting some seconds.” She’s dipping her head down, hiding her face in the wavy locks of her hair, but you can tell her lips are parted when you’ve got a hand to her neck, pulling to flush her backside with your front. “God, yes-” 

“Don’t expect an apology from me,” you’re calling out to Sakura, who took it upon herself to finally twist and see you staring, the pumps inside Kazuha relaxed, and its own thing happening. And Kazuha’s not even moaning yet. “You only have to blame yourself for bringing a physical version of Aphrodite to the place.“ 

Sakura rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the television. “That’s her little secret. I guess. And it’s not my fault that you fall for it every time.” 

The thing is, there isn’t really a secret to be said amongst the three of you. You’ve mapped them out to their little glances - the one quirk that gets them both going for something to follow. Dumb it down to a simple phone call or maybe a cantation laced in the words they whisper into your ear. Sakura’s right: you will fall for it.

Every. Single. Time. 

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Another Vox enthusiasts I see? Well if I may...

Vox with a GN Hacker reader who was turned entirely digital after manifesting in hell. They don’t even have a physical form they’re completely stuck within Hell’s databases, their skills are obviously useful to him so he offers them a place on the team which they immediately accept on the condition that Vox makes them a vessel to inhabit because holy shit are they going stir crazy.

I’m not entirely sure how Vox’s abilities work but given he can at the very least project himself onto screens and the like I get the feeling that he’d plug himself into the system whenever they talk. Mostly because it keeps them grounded, they’re alot calmer when he’s actually next to them and not looking in through a screen.

I hope this didn’t get too wordy or long I just wanted to be thorough because I have massive brain rot for this techno mf-

Take your time with this request! Kisses darling <3

-📽

Dude, does anyone else remember having Shimeji's or that internet episode from Fairly Odd Parents? Cause that's what I'm about to write!

Digital Pet [Vox x Digital Reader]

When you first manifested in Hell, you were completely unaware that you had ended up in Hell itself. Because instead of manifesting in the overcrowded circle designated for sinners, you instead found yourself in a digital landscape. Countless screens surrounded you like a million portals. You could see the different shapes and sizes of the devices being used in hell and could even alter whether or not you saw what was being displayed on the screen or what the screen could see itself like a window to Hell.

At first, you had a massive meltdown. From what you could tell, you were the only one in this digital Hell custom-tailored to leave you isolated despite having access to every device in Hell. You wondered what you did to deserve the extra punishment layered on top of not being good enough for heaven, especially since you hadn't done anything particularly evil when you were alive.

You lost track of how much time passed. You entertained yourself by jumping from system to system. You'd watch shows that sinners binged, and you'd watch the city from large advertisement screens that overlooked the sinner's circle of Hell. Anything to stave off the loneliness.

One day, that all changed when you felt an electric buzz make the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You heard the voice of someone swearing and immediately pulled yourself away from the screen you had been sticking your nose into. When you turned, you saw another demon who was still sparking with some bright electric energy as he dusted himself off.

For a moment the two of you just stared at each other in shock. As far as you and Vox knew, you were the only ones who could access the digital realm of Hell's database. Vox is immediately wary, but you are thrilled as you approach him quickly.

"H-Hi, oh my god!" you breathe as you look him over. He didn't look new to Hell, but you had never seen anyone else in the same pocket of space as you before. "Did you just die? Have you seen anyone else? Did you just get here? It's been so long since I saw another person that wasn't on a screen!"

Vox blinked as you rapid-fired questions at him. He looked you over as you rambled something about the irony of his face being a screen when he finally shook his head and held up a hand to stop you.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down," he started. "What are you talking about? How are you even here? No one else should be able to traverse through the database of Hell but me."

Vox's interest only grows as you explain your situation. "I see," he hummed as he looked you over with new intrigue. "I wonder if you have similar abilities to mine and just got caught in the in-between..."

It was easy enough for him to lure you into a deal. The sheer amount of panic you expressed when he pretended he was going to just leave you there was hilarious at the time. In exchange for you "surfing the web" for him, so to speak, he took you on as an apprentice of sorts. Vox trained your abilities and helped you hone your magic. While you had every hope of one day figuring out how to manifest in the physical realm the way he did, Vox cleverly avoided any pursuit of the possibility.

He liked having full power over you and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't starting to grow attached. While you hadn't learned anything about manifesting physically, you had learned how to appear on his screens. He'd never admit it to you out loud, but he found the tiny image of you running around on his devices and talking with him to be pretty damn adorable.

Despite his manipulation, the two of you actually slowly became friends. He found himself genuinely proud of you whenever you popped up to show him something new you had learned. There was a weird warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when you would bounce with excitement at your new discoveries.

Sometimes you'd ask him to play a certain show or song for you. Even after you learned how to control inactive devices so you could look up anything you wanted, you still liked to ask him to play things for you just so you could watch them in his presence. You'd send memes to each other and Vox had to quickly excuse himself when you sent him a crudely drawn image of Alastor slipping on a banana peel while he was in the middle of giving a presentation at a meeting.

Vox was emotionally constipated, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell that the warm feeling in his chest was growing and he knew you were the source. He clutched his chest as he stepped into his lair and saw you sleeping on his desktop toolbar, waiting for him to come home after a long day at work. He had promised you that you'd watch the new episode of a show you'd been watching together, but his gameshow had run late.

He sits down with a sigh and traces over your sleeping form, feeling something twist inside of him as his claw only met with the cold, flat surface of a screen. He wondered what it would be like to hold you. To touch you. To have you in his arms while the two of you lay on the couch while you made him watch stupid shows instead of...

"Fuck," Vox whispered to himself as he pulled away from the innocent image of you. He clutched his face as he slumped forward in his chair. He had a decision to make.

And so do you, dear readers! I want to make a part two to this, the real question is:

[avocado-writing]

hi! i was just wondering if you could write some headcannons for astarion, gale, halsin, karlach, and shadowheart about what they are like when you're pregnant/them as parents to a baby

So cute! I love wholesome family requests like these!

Astarion

When you're pregnant: he tries not to be too fussy, but let's be realistic, he likes to cluck about and make sure you're okay. He gets a bit overbearing actually. "Should you be doing that if you're pregnant?" sort of thing, you have to wave him off a couple of times. When you're asleep you hear him whispering to the baby bump about how he's going to protect them, make sure nobody would ever hurt them. (Also when you're in your third trimester the two of you like to pretend that you've gone into labour to get out of social situations you don't want to be in. He's all, "we have to GO my PARTNER is giving birth RIGHT NOW" then when you're far enough away you burst into laughter)

When you've given birth: as an elf, he only needs four hours to trance a night, so he's often holding the baby when you're awake. Speaks in whole sentences, he has no time for baby talk. "babababa..." "Mm, yes darling, I'm just worried this fabric is too sheer for that particular design." Catch him watching you cradling the baby looking utterly smitten from the doorway. He's happier than he ever believed he could ever be.

Gale

When you're pregnant: constantly reading up about magic to make things easier, whether it's to ease back pain or make the delivery more comfortable. Likes to stay up late discussing baby names with you, Tara resting on your lap and cuddling happily into your belly. Also armed with facts about the growing baby is during each month of your pregnancy, lmfao.

When you've given birth: wants to be there for every milestone possible, so takes lots of paternal leave from his teaching job. Baby's first word is 'dada' and he goes crazy for it, he's so so happy. Casts little, harmless spells which make the baby giggle - summoning Dancing Lights above their head to soothe them to sleep in their crib. As the baby drifts off you can often hear him whispering that "the two of you have made my life complete."

Halsin

When you're pregnant: knows all of the natural teas he can brew to help you relax. Always offering backrubs. Talks to the bump a lot, falls asleep with you as his little spoon so he can have his hand on your belly, keep you both safe as you slumber. Waxes poetic about what your baby might look like, whose eyes it will have, whose hair. If it will take to druidic magic or something more scholarly? All he knows is that he can't wait to meet them.

When you've given birth: the baby is usually in a papoose around his chest (when you're not holding them!) He's totally caught up in how lovely they are, how the two of you made something so wonderful. When they get a little older he is a big fan of letting them ride on his shoulders, encouraging them to run their hands through leaves on the boughs of trees and answering every endless question they can think to ask.

Karlach

When you're pregnant: constantly offering to carry things for you so that you don't strain yourself. Talks to the bump all the time. "Come on, kiddo! Mama can't wait to meet you!" Loves to have her hand on your belly and gets so excited when she feels a kick! "We've got a little fighter in there, I reckon!" Every so often asks if you really think she'll be a good mum, a little bit of anxiety creeping in - but you reassure her she'll be just wonderful.

When you've given birth: always standing over the crib to look at the baby, she just seems to happy when they're peacefully asleep. Likes to hum little made-up songs to them when they're settling down for the night. If the baby starts fussing for no reason, she picks them up and bounces them around until they're both giggling wildly. She is most happy when she has you in one arm and the baby in the other 💕

Shadowheart

When you're pregnant: does a lot of healing magic to help you with your aches and pains which helps a lot. She gets super into pregnancy books and is constantly offering you suggestions for how to make things a little easier - maybe because she feels guilty that you're the pregnant one. Offers up lots of soft prayers to her goddess for a happy family and your good health. The two of you bicker good-naturedly about names but do eventually settle on one you both like - maybe after one of her parents.

When you've given birth: constantly checking in that you're alright and happy as a new parent, because she is. Always makes sure there's a bunch of night orchids in the nursery. When the baby gets a bit older and is scared of the dark, she makes sure to teach them the Light cantrip so that they always have a nightlight if they need. And she teaches them to swim, just like you taught her all those years ago.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget (lmk if you want to be added)

[svnluns]

my therapist | eva

The first time you walked into Eva’s office, you told yourself it was just another attempt to fix things. Another appointment with another therapist who would scribble in a notebook while you tried not to fall apart. But Eva was nothing like you’d expected.

She sat there, poised and unreadable, her dark eyes sharp enough to cut through whatever defense you thought you had. Her voice was calm but carried an edge, like every word was chosen with precision, designed to strip you down to your rawest self.

You weren’t supposed to notice how her lips curved when she smirked, or how her eyes lingered just a little too long when you hesitated. You weren’t supposed to notice her at all.

But you did.

“You’re nervous,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact as she leaned back in her chair.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Is it that obvious?”

She shrugged, her pen tapping lightly against the cover of her notebook. “Most people are. Therapy has a way of making people uncomfortable. But that’s where the real work begins.”

There was no judgment in her voice, just an unnerving sense of knowing. She was like gravity—impossible to ignore, pulling you in whether you wanted her to or not.

You nodded, looking down at your hands. “I guess I just. Don’t know where to start.”

She tilted her head, studying you with a mix of curiosity and detachment. “Start with what brought you here. The rest will come.”

Her gaze felt heavy, like she could see straight through you. You told yourself it was normal, that this was just how therapists were supposed to make you feel—exposed but safe. Except with Eva, it wasn’t just about the therapy. It was her.

The way she moved, deliberate and controlled. The way her voice stayed calm, even when her words cut deep. The way she looked at you, like she already knew the answers but wanted you to find them yourself.

It made your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with anxiety.

“I feel stuck,” you admitted, your voice softer than you intended. “Like I’m living someone else’s life, and none of it feels real.”

Her lips twitched, almost a smile, but not quite.

“That’s not unusual. Most people spend their lives trying to live up to a version of themselves they think will make them happy. It’s exhausting.”

The way she said it, so matter-of-fact, made something in you unravel. She wasn’t just a therapist. She was something more. Something you couldn’t name, but couldn’t stop thinking about.

“Do you ever feel like that?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Her eyebrow arched, just slightly. “This isn’t about me.”

“I know,” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I just..wondered.”

For the first time, her gaze softened, just enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Everyone feels lost sometimes,” she said, her voice lower now. “But it’s what you do with that feeling that matters.”

You nodded, but your focus wasn’t on her words anymore. It was on the way she looked at you, like she was both impossibly far away and too close all at once.

The session ended too soon, and as you stood to leave, you couldn’t help but glance back at her. She caught your eye, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, it felt like she knew.

Knew that the ache in your chest wasn’t just about your problems, but about her.

You left her office feeling more tangled than when you arrived, but somehow, it didn’t matter. Because the personality of Eva—calm, sharp, impossible—had already attracted you in.

[akunya]

“companionship.”

pairings: android!hex haywire x m!reader

summary: can a robot and human fall in love?

tw: HYPNOSIS, NONCON, manipulation, yandere, etc. robot sex, voice fetish, onahole, voyeurism. size difference, belly bulging, etc.

notes: i love this cliche au of sex robots and things like that, so here’s my take on it.. with hex.

it’s probably terrible and i guess caters a certain niche, but let me know what you guys think.

today was it - the day you’ve been waiting for! finally, after all your hard work throughout the year, you saved enough money to buy your own, state of the art, artificial intelligence assistant.

and, luckily for you, today was also the grand debut of a brand new line of androids: xsoliel.

your hands were as shaky as ever waiting in line at the mall, double checking your savings to assure yourself you weren’t dreaming. nijisanji’s new line of androids were practically everything anyone could ask for: equipped with unique and interesting designs and personalities for each member, xsoliel offered a variety of services: whether it was for your own selfish pleasure or to help with manual labor, there was surely somebody for you.

..or so, that’s how the commercial sounded anyways. you silently thanked humankind for blessing the world with this era of companion-droids. seeing the ad nearly a year ago, you were star struck at the first all-male line nijisanji had debuted: luxiem.

unfortunately, they were sold out and only resold at steep prices— but, a few lucky online bloggers raved about their features, endless posts about how amazing it was to have an assistant of your own. while they could’ve surely been exaggerating, ever since that moment, you put money aside each week, even taking on extra jobs to make a little more cash to achieve your dream.

and it was finally time to reap your benefits.

while you didn’t know much about xsoliel nor intended to coincidentally buy an android of your own on the day of their newest launch, that didn’t stop you from checking them out. reading the blurbs about each member peaked your curiosity even higher. “a delinquent? people really think of anything these days, huh?” chuckling, you let yourself playfully criticize each member. you quickly bit your tongue, thoughts coming to a halt after reading about a certain individual.

“..what kind of name is hex?” muttering to yourself, you couldn’t hide the faint blush on your face as you stared at the model inside of the store. sleek attire, it almost made him look like a professor than a robot. paired with optional glasses (why did he even need those? can’t he see perfectly?), hex’s design made your heart flutter. his official advertisement described him as a nurturing, gentle servant, perfect for new customers to start off with. illustrated to have a deep, nearly hypnotic voice, hex’s programming was assured to have his users satisfied and satiated with their purchase.

swiping your card at the checkout, you really hoped you made the right choice, signing off a couple waivers and documents the employee had given you.

just a week later, you realized you didn’t regret your decision at all.

living with an ai assistant could only be described as luxury. hex truly was made with a “newbie” owner in mind, and the way he spoke to you sometimes made you wonder who was really in charge. his sweet, charming voice, along with how gentle and kind he was towards you, lifted your spirits instantly.

for instance, hex was a wonderful outlet to talk to when things went wrong — and, as if it was magic, nearly every problem you spoke about washed away the next morning! your problems with coworkers quickly diminished, and you even got the raise you’ve been praying for months now. he’d always offer such delicate touches, hugs and shoulder massages when he notices you’re pent up from a long day. you couldn’t fight off the dreamy, floaty headspace you were in when he was around.

not to mention, hex even did some of the chores while you were at work without being told to. even though you felt too guilty to ask him to clean the house, he didn’t seem to mind, making sure you came home to a clean room and nicely folded laundry each day. hell, he even told you he was looking into cooking, something that wasn’t originally included in his list of abilities. hex seemed to go above and beyond for you each time, amazing you each day.

it was a normal friday night, and you were with him as you always were, spending most of your time with the robot.

“y/n, why don’t you ever want to use me for something else..?” the question made your face feel warm, hairs standing on the edge. you two were cleaning up the kitchen after preparing dinner. laughing awkwardly, you tried to shrug off his curiosity, shining a plate with a dish towel. “well, id never want to force you to do something you didn’t like, silly.”

hex’s brow furrowed, a hint of anger resting beneath the surface. who said i didn’t want to?” for an android , the way he spoke was jarringly natural. your eyes widened in surprise, speechless for a moment. hex talked so nonchalantly about sex, but you had to remind yourself he was still a robot after all. as human as his synthetic skin and olive eyes may look, he lacks a beating heart and flesh.

“i-im not sure i want to. im just not interested in that type of stuff right now..” you let your voice trail off, sitting and washing in silence before hex spoke up dangerously close to your ear.

“you don’t have to lie, baby. i can hear you in the middle of the night when you touch yourself.” his deep voice made you shudder, unable to move. didnt you tell him to shut himself off during the nighttime? you were sure you ordered him not to snoop around, especially on nights that you planned to indulge in yourself. gulping, you laughed awkwardly as hex didn’t seem to budge.

“ah, s-sorry for disturbing you, ill try and keep it down next time..” his hand enveloped your own, forcing you to meet his gaze. goodness, his hands were big. warm, soft, inviting — strong, too. hex squeezed your hands, not bothering to stop when you winced from the pain, smiling. “you don’t have to keep it down. you should let me help you.” the way hex spoke was as if he was demanding you, not letting go until you gave him an answer. “it’s what i was.. made to do, anyways.” his voice was filled with solemn, playing with your heartstrings.

the silence was weighing on your thoughts, biting your lip in anticipation. hex knew how to make you uncomfortable, how to give into his desires and requests even when you didn’t want to — on the surface, at least. “alright, i will..! next time ill let you help me, okay?” you huffed, hex letting go of your hands and putting them on your shoulders instead. “good boy. you’re listening so well.” you hated how warm his praise made you feel.

the next night you needed help came sooner than you thought, shamefully letting hex in when he knocked on the door. the android wasted no time making himself comfortable in your space.

“a-ah, hex, slow down! please!” his hand was wrapped around your fleshlight, pumping vigorously as you squirmed in between his legs. your back was pressed against his chest, caged in the ai’s arms as he pleasured you. he caught you trying to use it to get yourself off, and figured he’d give it a try.

except, he failed to mention that his hands also had a vibrating feature. the soft yet firm jelly of the fleshlight practically whirred against your dick, making the experience all too elevating, groaning as hex held you in his arms. this has to be what those bloggers were raving about, right? hex held the toy at the tip of your cock, squeezing a bit to snap you out of your thoughts. you practically sobbed out, eyes tears from how good his touch felt on your skin.

“yknow, when you look so vulnerable like this, it makes me want to ravage you. who knew my master could be so slutty?” you whined at that, the ai chuckling deeply. you could truly stop him by force if you wanted to, considering you were technically his owner, but god did he make it hard. spreading your legs open so he could continue to jerk you off like the pathetic loser you always were. feeling another orgasm coming, your moans started to get louder, nails digging into hex’s synthetic skin.

“shh, goodness y/n. you’re going to wake up the neighbors if you keep moaning like a slut. hmm..” the man hummed to himself, shuffling around while you were distracted. “maybe i should give you something more, right?” before you knew it, his cock was circling your hole, causing you to panic.

“wait, h-hex! that’s too much, im already tired!” you tried to fight back, scrambling in his lap. his hands held up underneath your legs, holding you in place with his strength. of course he could overpower you — he was a robot, for gods sake. even though you were still painfully hard, you couldn’t imagine having sex with an ai of all things.

that is, until you felt something whirr against your ass.

oh.

of course, that part of him vibrates too. why wouldn’t it? as if hex couldn’t be too good at what he does already, it was as if his manufacturer wanted to overkill him with all these extra functions. hex laughed at your stillness, kissing the back of your neck. “i promise it feels good.”

he didnt bother giving you any warning either, nor waiting for an answer, slamming your hips down and shoving himself inside. even if his cock was lubricated, it still hurt like hell, making you cry out in pain. you’ve never felt so full before — just how big was he? you remember a conversation with the clerk at the store that day when you first bought hex. they had asked you about sizes.. but you thought they were just talking about his height, opting for the biggest size they had available. what an idiot. no wonder the clerk blushed a bit at your response.

slowly, hex rolled his hips against yours, his dick stretching you out against your will. “i always imagined us like this, baby. id take care of you, and you’d.. well, take it.” hex smiled, groaning in your ear as his dick nearly stirred up your insides. your brain couldn’t think of anything to say in response, too full to retaliate against the androids firm grip.

“you look stupid, baby. can you feel me? riiight here? look at how well you’re taking me.” hex’s cool fingers pressed against your stomach, nudging the bulge from his cock and making you whine even louder. your poor little cock was like a fountain, leaking nonstop as his pace didn’t falter.

it felt as if you were the one helping him out in this position. the ai was unexpectedly loud in bed, moaning and whispering about how well behaved you were, and how he’ll spoil you like this everyday from now on. every day? could you even handle that? with how he was taking control, surely there was something wrong with his wiring. you started to think about how to return and maybe get someone to take a closer look at his hardware, before a painfully deep thrust snapped you out of your thoughts.

“o-oh!” you were embarrassed by the yelp you let out, your body trembling before finally releasing, soiling the sheets underneath you two. “it seems like you’re doing a lot of thinking today, y/n. what could possibly be on your mind other than me?” hex, amused, chuckled in response, kissing and licking the back of your neck. “good boy. that’s it, let it out. only think of me from now on, okay?” his voice felt so dreamy; so hypnotic.

“y-yes sir,” you managed to mutter our, much to hex’s chagrin. he didn’t need any recovery period since he wasn’t human, so the robot simply got back to milking you dry, pounding into your tight hole like an animal in heat.

you’d never find out that hex’s model was recalled for several malfunctions and viruses, he made sure of that.

how else would he give you everything so easily?

[reqxxyt]

birthday cake

pairings: max v. x f!reader

warnings: none : ) (except for the constant change of 2nd to 1st pov)

masterlist requests open!

[unedited]

a/n: won't be updating for a while, last month of school is always hell

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Max had been staring at the same recipe for the last 10 minutes, trying to decipher the instructions without making it to hard for him knowing already that he wasn’t the best when it came to baking always leaving it to you. You birthday had been today and he had told himself that he was going to make a birthday cake for you. 

He had felt terrible that you were meant to work on your special day and told you to leave it all to him. With a cautious look on your face the minute he told you, he was more determined to make this the perfect birthday, to prove that he would do just fine without needing your help. 

He now stood in the kitchen covered in flour, staring at the burnt cake he let bake for too long and glancing at the recipe wondering if he could save it or have to start over. With the minimal ingredients he had left, he decided to start over saving the burnt as a back up but knowing it was no longer edible. 

He gave himself words of encouragement, trying to keep his hopes up while now taking his time, double checking every measurement that went into the mixing bowl. The minute it went into the oven, he stared at it not letting his attention leave the cake that was meant to be perfect for you. But he didn’t expect you to be home so soon, having asked your coworker to cover for you. 

“What happened…” your gaze landed on the destroyed kitchen. Flour was covering the counter while some remaining mix was dripping to the floor, most ingredients left out as Max had been sitting on the floor covered in flour staring at the oven. 

Max turned to your shocked expression already feeling terrible just now realizing how much of a big mess he had made in the span of 2 hours. “I tried making a cake” his voice sounding so soft made your heart hurt, not wanting him to think you were annoyed. But yoru silent state only made him worry more as he stood back up ready to apoligize. 

You laughed instead, fluffing out his hair as flour remains flew off. “Thank you” you said with a soft smile and his own smile made your insides warm knowing how much he just wanted to make you happy, feeling appreciated from the person you’ve grown to love over the years. “Let me help you clean up” 

He was about to protest before he saw that you spotted the burnt cake from last time on the corner of the cake. 

“Just keep your eyes on the cake” you said and he just nodded, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek before sitting back down while you cleaned the counters and washed the dishes. After you were finished, you sat down with Max, reaching your hands to his, intertwinnign them as you two stared at the cake waiting for it to finish ensuring that it wont burn with the help of each other. 

After a long chat as we stared at the cake, we finally took it out right before it was starting to brown. Max took out the decorations and we both started, agreeing to do a side each, making up our own designs. We were finally finished and I sighed, tired from the day but relieved I got to spend the rest with Max. 

As you were about to turn, you felt icing drag on your nose and looked to the only one who couldve done it as he looked at you with a mischievous grin. You glared at him, debating whether to make more of a mess at the kitchen or be a decent person. You looked down at the cake in front of me and dragged a bit of icing. Max having an inkling on my plan made a run for it as I dashed to him, racing him to our room, and cornering him. 

“Nowhere to run Max” you said with a small smirk before attacking him, dragging my finger on both sides of his cheeks. He ran as our laughs echoed throughout the house. As he ran back to the kitchen, he swiped another piece of icing before coming back to attack me with more. I ran from him, giggles escaping as I entered the living room nearly tripping before Max caught me only to swipe the icing, dragging it across my lips near my bottom chin. 

Our laughs died down as we stayed still, admiring each other with soft smiles before leaning in exchanging a sweet kiss. We separated, he whispered a simple “happy birthday, schatje” 

“I want cake now” I whispered back making both of us chuckle before heading back to the kitchen splitting the cake and enjoying the rest of the night together. 

[stedefxckingbonnet]

Moonlight Meetings | Izzy Hands x Reader

Summary: You knew Stede Bonnet from his days of being married to your dearest friend, Mary. Although Mary was your best friend, you were still there for Stede during his conflicting feelings about his marriage and wanting to sail the seas and explore the world and, well, become a pirate, and without judgment, too. You wished you had gone with him when he had left, but you stayed loyal to Mary. But upon Stede's return and him and Mary giving and getting the closure they mutually needed, as well as her assisting him in faking his death so he could truly go and live the life he's wanted to pursue without guilt, you do end up going with him this time. You actually reveal yourself to be a skilled navigator and trader, but even before this knowledge, the crew accepted you with open arms. Even a certain first mate who was weary at first (you are Stede's friend, after all) comes around, although you tried to take over his late night thinking spot as your own. You end up sharing said spot and looking forward to your encounters and conversations every night, even throughout the days.

Warnings: slight inconsistency with plot of OFMD (just the stuff with when Stede returns after leaving again, it's really not too evident or bothersome i don't think), some strong language, briefest mention of blood ever, some light angst, brief mentions of troubling past, brief explorations of anxiety, kissing

This honestly took me a few days to write, and Tumblr didn't save some of it, so that was frustrating, anyhow—I truly hope you all enjoy this! I enjoyed writing it. I have a few requests that I will be fulfilling hopefully tomorrow as well, or at least in the next couple of days especially after recent events if you know what I mean...I love you all so dearly and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've shown me so far. I've enjoyed talking with you all whether it's through the comments or my inbox or even messages :) Keep the requests coming, and have a wonderful day (or night!)

Word Count: 5461

You had never fathomed that the sun could even shine this brightly. For once in your life, its beams didn't berate you but rather seemed to engulf you in a warm embrace as a sort of sendoff on your new endeavors, encouraging you, almost—reassuring you that this was in fact the right choice.

Ever since Stede had taken off to start his new life as a pirate amongst the ocean, you couldn't help but feel envious. You would have given anything to be able to do the same, to leave everything behind and start fresh, especially upon the saltwater seas. Barbados was all you had ever known and it never truly felt like your home. But even just the thought, the daydream of sailing the seas and discovering places you never imagined existed, felt like absolute bliss and paradise. You were sad to see Stede go, too, but you knew it would be good for him. You knew he would be happier than he was living here with Mary and his children, living the life his parents designed for him. You were undeniably happy for him. But you couldn't help but also be extremely jealous, too. Though of course, you would never express these feelings harshly—you really were over the moon for Stede. You just wished for something beyond the life that was handed to you, too. You knew he understood that, too.

Whenever you and Stede would whisper about his plans in corners at all of those socialite gatherings in the rare moments when no one was watching, he would always suggest for you to go with him, but you felt like you had no choice but to stay, especially with Mary. She was your dearest friend, and you felt strongly about your loyalty towards her. You'd never admit you were also terrified of your name being slandered and that your new reputation would follow you out there forever if you had left with him, at least at that time, in those circumstances.

But, Stede returned briefly, and all had been rekindled with Mary. They sincerely wished each other well, and she even helped him pull off a grandiose stunt—faking his death, and you knew that now, he was finally able to live the life he yearned for in peace and free of guilt. He killed off the Stede Bonnet of Barbados, and truly began to grow into the person he wanted to be—Stede Bonnet of the sea, The Gentleman Pirate.

Once he pulled it off, you walked over with him to the sand to send him off once again. There was a lingering moment between the two of you, both knowing that this would not be farewell.

"I'm going to ask you again," Stede started. "Do you want to come with me? Please, come with me, it's amazing out there. And the crew, oh!—you'd just love the crew! Please?"

How could you resist this time? Even before he had formally asked again, you were already on board, ready for whatever awaited you on this journey.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first few weeks aboard The Revenge had been nothing short of wonderful. You already felt well acquainted with your crew, and there were even a particular few you felt yourself getting closer to already, and hoped you all would continue to. But there were parts of it that were terrifying, too—it would hit you in the most out of nowhere moments that you just up and left your last life. It's not like anything, let alone anyone was waiting for you back there, but nonetheless it shocked you from time to time that you had even left. You felt like an entirely new person—you knew that in your core you were still you, but your identity felt a bit lost in this new environment somewhere. You hardly mourned this, as you were excited to explore a new you, but that didn't erase the fact that it was frightening. There were nights where you found yourself confiding in Stede about this for hours, but you eventually stopped as you noticed Ed would already be in his quarters when you arrived and you wanted to give them privacy. Still, you couldn't stand to be alone in your own quarters, but you weren't sure which of your crew mates' doors you could knock on just yet. The only place left was to check out the main deck, see if there were any nooks and crannies you may have missed.

After a few minutes of searching, you found the perfect spot—you couldn't really be seen by anyone else on the deck, if anyone decided to walk onto it, but you could still stare out at the water and the moonlight. The moon's reflection rippling across the ocean was one of your favorite sights—it brought you such peace, so you were honestly glad that you strayed from being holed up in Stede's room and wound up here instead. You were about to sit when you felt someone else's presence beside you. You jumped, immediately turning around to see who it was, your hand instinctively reaching for your sword.

"It's just me," Izzy sighed. "You can put your fucking sword away. Just me.

You let out a sigh of relief upon the sight of the first mate. You knew that his presence unsettled, or really just annoyed the others, but not you. His presence made you feel safe and looked after, even if he was a bit harsh a lot of the time.

"This is my spot, you know," he sighed once again.

"Your spot?"

"It's where I come to think every single night, even when I'm not on watch," he explained to you surprisingly patiently.

"Do you want me to leave?" you pondered, almost frantically. You didn't want to feel like you had invaded yet another space. You knew you would start spiraling, start thinking that maybe there wasn't a place for you aboard The Revenge. And honestly, Izzy wanted to be alone, but the look on your face almost pierced through his heart. He didn't have the heart to tell you off.

"You don't have to," he shrugged, sitting down beside you. "It's fine."

You both stared out at the sea. You were beyond grateful to have some company, honestly—company beyond the moon itself. Not long after, a sigh escaped your own lips. Izzy tried to fight off the urge to talk to you, but he couldn't deny that he felt so drawn to you, even when you first arrived on the ship.

"Something wrong?" he finally asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He intended to keep you in his periphery.

"I guess I've just been feeling kind of like an outsider," you shrugged, continuing. "Being here is all I've ever wanted and more, but I just feel like such a burden to everyone all the time. I don't really have anyone to talk to, and even when Stede left our village, I only had one friend. Now I just feel even more alone...It's silly, I know."

"It's not," Izzy protested. "I get it. I do."

"You do?"

Izzy nodded. "You don't ever see me talking to anyone, do you?"

You paused to ponder. "Not unless they need something."

"Exactly."

"Do you ever get lonely, Izzy?"

Such an innocent inquiry was enough to almost make Izzy's heart stop. Looking at you from the corner of his eye wasn't enough anymore. He turned his head to face you, witnessing the genuine expression on your face. You truly cared, and you truly wanted to know. No one had ever looked at Izzy this way before, and he wasn't sure of how it was supposed to make him feel—frustrated? Sad? Sorry? Joyous, even? He subtly put his gloved hand upon his chest, thinking somehow it would slow his quickly-paced heartbeat. He wasn't used to this, he couldn't even believe this was happening. He even felt he was reading too much into this—but, you cared, and he knew it right away. He didn't know what to do with that. But it was a pleasant feeling, teetering on bittersweet. Upon realizing your question was still hanging in the air, he quickly spoke again, his mind not exactly in sync with his mouth.

"I suppose."

Izzy's response hung in the air just as your query had. It felt relieving to put such a thing out into the universe, but it also felt dreadful facing this reality. Was this the reason behind the occasionally random sharp pains in his chest, almost reminiscent of someone stabbing him right through his heart with a sword? These physical sensations never came without a looming feeling of gloominess, after all. He almost exhaled at the thought. He wasn't sure whether or not he was ready to explore any of this, let alone if he even wanted to do so. His gaze was still fixated on you, as if he were awaiting to hear something from you as well. For once in his life, hope could be seen in his eyes, though he didn't know it.

Finally, you spoke. "I'll be the moon."

A laugh almost boomed from Izzy's chest. "What?"

"I'll be here every night, if you'll have me. If there's ever a particularly hard day, just remember that the moon will rise at the end of the day and be there for you to lament all your sorrows to," you stood up by this point, speaking sort of dramatically, but it was apparent that you meant it sincerely. "And even during the day, did you know you can still see the moon? So, I'll be there during the day, too."

Izzy was in complete and utter disbelief in the best way possible. He was truly at a loss for words, and he swore his head was going to hurt from how much he was nodding. You smiled at this sight, and held your hand out to help Izzy up. He looked at you, confusing written all over his expression, but you kept your hand there. Finally, he allowed himself to put his hand in yours and before he knew it, he was back on his feet again, in more ways than one.

"Goodnight, Izzy."

"Right. Yes. Goodnight."

The thought of Izzy didn't leave your mind even as you retreated to your quarters, nor when you succumbed to sleep for the remainder of the night's reign. Little did you know that Izzy thought of you, too. That you weren't just going to be his moonlight, but also, his sunshine. But he didn't know that just yet.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You rose right as the sun did the next day, never having been more ready to take on a day until now. Something was even more enchanting about watching the transition of grey hues into orange into light blue, but this process in reverse would always have your heart. The rest of the crew woke up shortly after you, some still yawning, some stumbling upon the main deck from exhaustion. You couldn't help but giggle at such sights. None other than Izzy Hands followed behind them and your heart almost skipped a beat. Usually when this happened it was because you were overcome with worry, but, not this time and you knew that deep down. When you swore no one else was looking, you glanced over and sent a grin his way, to which he slightly returned—blinked, and you would have missed it. Your smile grew even larger, and you had to turn away to conceal it. Before you knew it, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to gasp.

"Someone's chipper this morning."

"Stede!" you exclaimed, laughing so hard that your stomach would probably hurt later. You swiveled around to face him. "Scared the ever living shit out of me."

"Sorry about that," Stede couldn't help but chuckle. "I just wanted to check in with you...are you feeling happy here? You settling in okay? I know it's a lot to just up and leave your life."

"Honestly, I've never been better," you admitted, your smile still existing upon you. And your smile was radiant—it had almost everyone's head turns toward you, their hearts feeling warm. Even Izzy. Especially Izzy. "I am so glad I did this. I regret not joining you sooner, but I—"

"I know," Stede jumped in to assure you, which you were endlessly grateful for. He knew of your tendency to spiral, and he wanted to cultivate a space where you didn't feel like you had to do so. "And I admire your loyalty. It's been an asset on this ship so far."

You sent a glance of gratitude his way before he walked off upon the sight of Ed emerging from his quarters, finally. You laughed as they made their ways over to one another. You were beyond happy to see your dear friend so happy, so in love. So in his element, where he truly belonged.

"Everyone, get to work!" Izzy suddenly shouted, to which the crew immediately scurried off to their designated areas. This didn't startle you, though. You made your way over to the kitchen to assist Roach in organizing the rations, accidentally brushing hands with Izzy as you did. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you, too, the smallest smile on his face. He couldn't look away, even though he wanted to just in case his face flushed or he smiled any further or, gods forbid, anyone else saw. You weren't afraid to keep smiling, and after what felt like forever of engaging in this staring match with the first mate, you finally ducked into the kitchen, so as not to keep Roach waiting. If you had, he would know something happened and he would pester you about it for the rest of your life.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Night fell sooner than you could realize it and for that, you were entirely grateful. You had been distracted the entirety of the day; the thought of whatever you and Izzy may have to share later dancing around in your mind, causing your heart to do pirouettes whenever you daydreamed about it. You almost couldn't even wait until everyone was asleep—but you knew this would run the risk of revealing your and Izzy's secret spot, and that would be less than ideal for the both of you. The last thing you wanted was to ruin a good thing that was only just beginning to blossom.

But tonight, Izzy was early. He found himself inhabited in the very same spot as the previous night, just as he had promised. Without a word, you plopped down right beside him, sending one of your signature smiles his way.

"I've never wished a day away like I had today," you laughed breathlessly.

"Nor have I. Yet, here we are." You could tell that there wasn't resentment behind Izzy's statement, but rather, a sort of joy. You discreetly moved a bit closer to him, your knees almost brushing against one another. Izzy also moved toward you at the same time, causing said collision. You were grateful for the dark concealing the rose tint creeping upon your cheeks. Izzy was grateful for the dark concealing the smile creeping upon his lips.

Izzy exhaled almost sharply, preparing to speak again, really speak. "I don't mean to scare off the crew, you know."

"I don't think you scare them one bit," you were quick to reassure him. "It's just how times were in the time where you sailed with Blackbeard, right?"

Izzy nodded almost rapidly, in utter shock that you already had such a good read on him. "Times were different, that's for sure."

"I can tell you care," you told him sincerely. "You just have a way of showing it that the crew isn't used to. I mean, they have Stede fucking Bonnet as one of their captains."

Izzy didn't hesitate to laugh at that. "Yeah. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet...but what was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"Being a part of...that world. His world."

You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully. "It was...a lot, all at once. Lots of uncomfortable clothes, powder on my face that made me look sickly but everyone would swear I was beautiful. But I never felt like a real fucking person. Ever. It was honestly exhausting."

Izzy listened intently, leaning in a bit to further demonstrate this. He nodded as you spoke, nods that spoke: I understand. That does sound like a lot. That does sound exhausting. It's amazing that you left that life behind. You're destined for so much more than what you were given. But all Izzy could manage to say, was, "No wonder you left. That sounded awful." He was mentally punching himself for not thinking of anything better to say. You deserved words in which were beautifully and artfully strung together. He knew that.

But, you laughed, knowing he empathized just by the way he looked at you. You were no stranger to these sorts of glances—sure, no one had ever looked at you that way before, but it was all you read about in your favorite romance novels, described so vividly that once you did encounter a moment like this, you would immediately recognize it, and, you did. "I'm better now. Much better. Where I need to be."

Once again, Izzy nodded. "You've been a great addition to this crew."

"Really?" you asked, almost in disbelief, but you were flattered to say the very least.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." To anyone else, this would have sounded harsh. To you, these were the most reassuring words you had ever heard. He looked over at you, insecurity rushing through his bloodstream and you could see this. Even in the light of the moon, you could see the paleness of Izzy's face.

"Thank you, Izzy." You spoke sincerely, and suddenly all pigment re-entered Izzy's once ghostly features. Such words felt so foreign and out of reach for him, until you had confidently brought them into existence. From you, this declaration wasn't a whisper—he could tell that you meant it with your entire heart. He couldn't even recall the last time someone had shown him a shred of gratitude, or if anyone ever had at all before this. Just those three words were enough to send warmth all throughout his body even as the breeze threatened to send shivers down both of your spines and force you underneath the warmth of your blankets in your respective quarters. This would be a warmth that would carry on every time he saw you from this point on—you would be the start to the fireplace in his heart, and part of him knew this was going to begin to happen from this moment forward. As long as you were going to be around, he knew he would at least never be entirely freezing again.

All Israel Hands could manage to do now was look at you. There were stars in his eyes paired tears hat threatened to cascade down his cheeks like waterfalls and he hoped so much that you weren't able to see, that the moon would spare him at least a bit. But you so badly wanted to reach out and wipe away the water from the corners of his eyes, though you wanted his complete trust even more, and that seemed like the last way to get it, at least this early on.

"My eyes just get dry," Izzy quickly defended in case you had seen anything.

You stifled a quiet laugh. "It is pretty windy out here."

"So, see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," you confirmed, not even trying to conceal the corners of your lips rising to form a smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tomorrow's would unfold every single night, not one ever missed. There were even a few nights that you happened to be in the midst of a cold but you insisted to be in your spot with Izzy, to which he would protest and you would compromise by allowing your meetings to happen in your quarters as he got Roach to make you soup, and you were better within the next few days. And even on the days where Izzy felt like absolutely screaming and cursing at the world, perhaps directing this to Blackbeard and Stede, he would still eagerly await your time together—it would be beyond enough to get him through those days.

It had now been quite some time since these meetings began. You were really beginning to solve the riddle that was Izzy Hands, and you quite liked what you were finding, and it only made you yearn to uncover even more. But, there were many nights and even days spent where you worried—worried that perhaps Izzy was ashamed of the connection that you two had formed, and that was why your encounters took place at night. Or, perhaps he was just lonely, or he had nothing better to do. You did your best to push these thoughts to the back of your mind but you usually had no luck. And, it was even harder to deny the blossoming feelings you had for the man.

Even before the first time you two had really conversed, you knew there was something about the first mate that you were drawn to, and these nights with Izzy had only confirmed that.

Little did you know that the same fears, and probably even more, existed within Izzy. Of all the people in the crew, why had you taken interest in him? He knew that even Stede Bonnet was probably of more interest, with his fancy wears and his everlasting bookshelves. Or Frenchie perhaps, with his instrument and his voice that the crew never got sick of hearing. Or Lucius with his sketches and his wit. Or hell, even Blackbeard himself, with all of the anecdotes he had up his sleeve—but why him? Why Israel Hands? This thought often plagued him to the point where his head would begin to hurt just a bit, and whenever it did (and, you knew when it did—he wasn't the best at hiding the wincing at all), he would just cake it to the changes in weather, or something that had happened that day, or even not drinking enough water. You always knew these excuses were, well, excuses, but you also knew it wasn't best to press.

Sometimes, part of Izzy wished that you would press. It was you, so he wouldn't mind as much. It wasn't likely that he would pour out his concerns, but he would appreciate yours.

As soon as you arose, you already spotted Black Pete and Lucius, who absolutely qualified for the cutest couple award, if there were such a thing—you wouldn't be surprised if Stede had established that just for them. But, your heart sank just a bit, knowing you couldn't express your growing love for Izzy like that. You weren't even sure you would know if he returned your feelings, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin such a beautiful thing between the both of you with such knowledge, especially if he truly didn't feel the same. But every morning, your heart would ache, and it became harder and harder to keep all of this love to yourself. You wanted more than anything for it to pour out of you like a fountain that never stopped flowing. You reserved such ardor for Izzy and Izzy alone. Never had you carried such affection, such fondness for another, and not only did that excite you, but it also scared the hell out of you.

The crew noticed this after the first few weeks—oh, you were far from subtle. You practically glowed whenever Izzy entered a room, even if you appeared completely composed.

Finally, Izzy rose from his quarters and your heart leapt in your chest. You couldn't hold it in anymore, and there was no way you were waiting for the moon to rise tonight. You waltzed right over to Izzy, gently pulling him aside. He didn't resist your touch at all—it felt almost familiar, and peaceful.

"Do you have a moment?" you suddenly asked.

"For you? Always. For anything else? Probably not," he chuckled.

Before you were about to speak once again, Stede had announced that the ship had docked. You sighed, slumping against the railing that you and Izzy were propped up against.

"Can it wait?" Izzy asked you sheepishly, his eyes apologizing.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, it can," you sighed.

"Not for long," Izzy assured you as he rushed off in order to ensure the ship's safe docking. It only took a few moments before he gestured for you to follow him off of the ship. You perked up at this, grabbing your satchel and running over to him.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked as you walked along the pathway of the Republic of Pirates.

"I...It's nothing. Not here, at least."

"Then where?" Izzy sent a playful smile your way.

"Could we actually head back to the ship? Just for a moment?"

Izzy pondered this—for just a moment. "I suppose no one would really notice, and if they did, they wouldn't care all that much."

This time, Izzy followed you. You were already beginning to regret this quite a bit, and beads of sweat were forming upon your temple. You wiped them away carefully, fanning yourself with your hand. You led Izzy to your shared spot, barely being able to breathe. Nor was Izzy with the way you were practically running back, and he had to do his best to keep up the pace. But the thought that something could be wrong was beginning to plague him.

"I couldn't wait until tonight," you finally admit, nervous laughter bubbling out of you.

"Most days, I can't either," Izzy sent a reassuring, but equally as nervous smile your way. "All of the time, actually."

All you could manage to do was sit there and just glow. You glowed underneath the sun's beams and the sight of it made Izzy absolutely melt, and not from the heat.

"Is everything alright? Just wanted to talk?"

Your eyes stayed fixated upon the man before you, the person whom you carried so much love for that it almost overflowed out of you. And, it was no secret that you had never felt this way about anyone before, and Stede Bonnet himself could and would be overjoyed to confirm it. You were often urged to find some sort of attachment toward a plethora of potential "worthy" suitors, but none of them ever caught your eye, nor had much to offer you despite all of their pleas. You always had this feeling deep down that none of them were truly suitable, and so you bore no hesitation saving yourself and your heart for someone that was. And Israel Hands was beyond anything you had ever dreamed of. He suited you so perfectly. He was worthy of all of the love in the world and so much more—you just hoped yours was enough for him. You hoped he would want any of it—it was his if he did.

And oh, did he want it. He yearned for you. Izzy's heart ached when the two of you were forced to retreat to your quarters after hours of conversation. He could spend forever just sitting there with you, his arm wrapped around you as you witnessed the sky's change every day, together. To him, that would be absolute paradise. Every second he spent with you, and even when you were apart, he knew in his heart that he held this special sort of feeling for you. Dare he call it love, as he didn't want his heart to shatter into a million pieces that he wouldn't be able to pick up. But, you were it for him, and he knew that deep down. He could see it in your eyes, or at least, he hoped that was what he was seeing. You did look at him with stars in your eyes, and you knew that.

"Please, don't hate me," you started, biting your lip so harshly that it almost drew blood.

"Hate you?" Izzy repeated, absolutely puzzled. "I couldn't hate you even if I tried."

You inhaled so sharply that you almost choked on air. You laughed it off, though Izzy instinctively placed his arm on the small of your back, tracing small patterns into it. With this, you collapsed into his arms and he was already set up to catch you. Sobs escaped your lips as he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to hopefully soothe you. These weren't instincts he was familiar with, yet, he felt as if he was meant to do these things. "You can tell me. Take your time, of course," he assured you as you continued to cry. After a moment, you managed to compose yourself a bit and you felt okay enough to pull away, but Izzy kept his hands on your upper arms gently, just in case. He was really starting to grow concerned, his stomach churning.

"You won't hate me?"

Izzy laughed, to which you managed the smallest of smiles. "I could never."

"I...I feel very connected to you, Izzy," you began. "And our conversations have really confirmed that for me. I don't just think about you at night before we talk—do you know that? You are the first thing that enters my mind each morning and then I can't wait to see you, really see you and talk to you and be close to you. And some days on this ship are hard, Izzy, but you make things so much easier. You take so much weight off of my shoulders."

"The thought of getting to talk to you gets me out of bed every day," Izzy admitted. "I've been doing this a long time and sometimes I don't know what it's all for anymore, why I even bother. But if I get to see your smile, it's all worth it."

You swore you were about to become a blubbering mess if you opened your mouth to speak at all. As you took a step forward towards him, your fingers intertwining as you approached. His other hand gently landed upon your waist, and your eyes met at the same second. The gap between you both was too much, too much, and neither of you could take its existence anymore—he gently reeled you in and you pressed your lips against his. He quietly gasped in surprise, though it was quickly followed by a sort of sigh of relief as he returned your kiss, returned your sentiments. You smiled against his lips and he couldn't help but do the same, there was no denying that your smile was contagious. He felt as if he were meant to do this, meant to show you such tenderness and care and love. And you would do anything in your power to show him that he was worthy of all of yours.

"I..." Izzy whispered against your lips. "I love you." The words almost got stuck in his throat—they felt unfamiliar, and unfamiliar was rarely not terrifying or dreadful. Right now, unfamiliar was exhilarating. Those three words were the truest he had ever spoken. You lit up more than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined.

"I love you, Israel." You had saved those three words for someone special, someone whom you truly adored without any question, and Izzy happened to be that someone. Anyone else would never, ever compare. He engulfed you in another embrace, your shirt becoming slightly stained by his tears. "I was meant to."

"Meant to what?"

"I was meant to love you. Made for it, probably," you laughed.

Izzy took hold of your hand once again, disentangling himself from your embrace to face you. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed it softly. "I think perhaps the moon knew to bring us together. But I loved...I loved you even before then. Or at least, I had a strong feeling I was going to. That, I'm certain about."

"Think we still have some time before everyone notices we're gone?" you asked, hope wavering in your voice.

"Oh, we've got ample long as they're at Spanish Jackie's," he couldn't help but chuckle. "We've got all the time in the world, my love."

"All of the time in the world," you repeated. "I love the sound of that."

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jude doesn’t tell me about the email until we’re back in Dublin, and I don’t ask because there are other things to think about. Such as the gaping holes left in the shelves of the apartment now that Claire has taken all of her things away or the letter waiting from NCAD detailing my timetable for my first week back in September. How is September three weeks away already? I toss the envelope onto the kitchen table and sigh as I unfold the letter. 

“Ugh, the thought of going back is so weird,” I say, “You know, like the idea of not being in Mezzotint anymore, of being back to regular classes again, cycling back to Thomas Street every morning. It feels like the kind of thing I did in a different life.”

Jude opens the fridge and takes out one of Claire’s abandoned peach yoghurts, and I eye him sharply as he does it, in two minds whether I should warn him to stay away from her things, which is nonsensical as it’s yoghurt and it expires on the 30th and she won’t be coming back from Sydney to get it anytime soon. “Is Mezzotint an option long-term?” He wonders, and I ask him what he means, “Like, if you wanted to stay on and work for them longer, do you think they’d let that happen?”

“I can’t do that,” I grab a magnet and stick the timetable to the fridge door, “I have to finish college now, it’s the only way I’ll ever get a degree.”

“You can’t drop out?” He says casually.

“No, because of financial aid. They won’t ever fund my education again and I’ll never be able to afford a degree on my own.”

“Woah,” He says, “I didn’t know that. So this is your only shot.”

“Exactly. No pressure, like.”

“Lucky you picked something you like.”

“Yeah and I do like illustration, I think I’m good at it, but, ugh, NCAD, sometimes I just…”

“Judging by the way everyone goes crazy for your work, I’d say you’re more than good at it. I think your murals are the best ones I’ve seen.”

I feel self-conscious, “you’re saying that because you think you have to.”

“Never.”

I start unzipping my weekend bag so I can put some of my dirty clothes into the washing machine. I find my dew soaked shoes to and put them on the windowsill to dry. 

“I’m serious,” Jude is saying as he follows me around the room, “You could really do something with those skills, that’s why I was asking about Mezzotint, I just think that if you wanted to you could make a career out of designing in the way that you’re designing now. Windows, murals, that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, maybe someday.”

“Why does it have to be someday?”

“Because I… That’s just something I’ll do in the future, I don’t know.”

“Evie, you’re so good, I swear you could do it right now.”

I sigh and toss a detergent pod into the drum, “Did you hear that bit I said about having to finish college?”

“I know,” he chews on his lip thoughtfully, “I know, you said that. I understand.”

“Why? What would you do if you were me?”

“I couldn’t say, our situations are different, so,”

“Yeah but if you were in my exact situation. Would you drop out of college and pursue illustration without a degree?”

He shrugs, “I might.”

I scoff, “Okay well, that’s not going to happen, so.”

“I know, I was just saying that if I was literally you, I might make a decision like that. I’m not saying you should, I get what you’re talking about with the financial aid and all of that I…” he breaks off and I look over my shoulder to find a troubled expression on his face. I feel tension leave my shoulders and compassion take a hold of my heart. 

“Is it the long distance?” I ask him, “Are you worried about how we’re going to do it?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks at the floor, “I dunno, I suppose honestly it freaks me out a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” I abandon the laundry and cross the room to hold his face in my hands, “it freaks me out too, but look, it won’t be that long, and by the time you get a job in London and actually manage to move over there it could be a couple more weeks or months, and really, by then I’ll only have maybe, six months left in NCAD, and there’ll be weeks during the midterm breaks when I can come and visit you, and really, it won’t be bad.”

“Yeah,” He says, still staring at the rug.

“We did a month apart when you were in Berlin,” I remind him, “and it was hard, but it was also fun, because we got to talk every night on the phone, and send texts and photos, and I learned all about the art of tasteful nudes and got to experience your colourful language detailing all the things you wish you were doing with me, and I think that if we can manage that then we can totally manage this.”

“They were very tasteful nudes,” he concedes, and I laugh at the miserable way he decided to say this. I capture his chin between my thumb and forefinger so that I can tilt his face to mine. “Stop moping, there’s no need to get into a mood over something like this, you know, we’re strong people and we can-’

“One of the movie studios in LA emailed me last night,” He says. 

“Yeah, I remember,” I leave a long pause for him to fill, and when he doesn’t I ask him, “What did they say?”

“They liked my portfolio.”

“Was their advice any good?”

“They didn’t have any, they, uh,” a long pause, “have an internship programme, actually.”

My stomach plummets to the floor. “Do they, yeah?”

“Yeah they told me that they’d like for me to come out to LA and work with them.”

“Oh,” My voice sounds a bit strangled, “so they really liked your work.”

“Guess so.”

“That’s really nice, wow. Nice to hear,” I shrug “…but it’s an internship.”

“Right.”

“So… not paid.”

“I imagine not.”

“So that just doesn’t make sense then,” I turn around and start fiddling with the dials on the washing machine. “Like they can’t really expect you to do that, can they? Like, to work somewhere like that without giving you any money for it, a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?”

He says nothing.

“They can’t really compete with the kind of money you’d be getting in London at all, can they? I mean think about that. Fifty, sixty thousand pounds a year versus nothing. They can’t expect anyone to be interested in something like that, especially, you know, because to live somewhere like LA would be crazy expensive as I can imagine. Wow, what a ridiculous offer.”

“Evie, I don’t have a job in London yet, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to start talking like I do.”

“Yeah, yet,” for some reason I grab the hoover and start vacuuming up crumbs from the ground beneath the oven, “But you will, that place you were waiting on, they’ll get back to you soon.”

“Yeah, maybe they will, but…” he pauses again and I feel a flash of annoyance that takes me by surprise, “But what, like?”

“What if I felt like the internship was too good to pass up? What if I didn’t want to take the risk of waiting for The Brits to hire me and I just considered another opportunity?”

“The other opportunity is really just not realistic,” I argue, “It makes no sense. It’s so far away from here and it won’t even pay you.”

“Yeah but I think it’s more exciting.”

I shake my head. 

“I know that you’re being practical Evie, but there are ways to make this workable.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this.”

When I turn to him again Jude’s face looks a little wild, and I know immediately what that expression is. Passion. Excitement. Ridiculousness. Whatever is firing off in his brain is the same thing that drove him to cycle his bike like a maniac, crash a wedding party, kiss girls he should never have kissed. “Listen,” He says, “I really think this could be amazing, and I think it could work out, and we can still have everything we want and there’ll never be any compromises.”

“How? I’m going back to college and-”

“You weren’t excited to go,” he blurts out, “You saw that letter on the floor and you were upset to see it there. You don’t seem like you want to go back to NCAD, not really.”

“I-” I break off, “Well-”

“I know how you feel about that place, I know the bad memories it has for you, and you don’t need to go back, I swear, you can just be an illustrator, that’s the beauty of being an artist, you don’t need a degree to be one, and look, if you don’t go back to college then you could come to LA with me and see if we like it, and if not we’ll try somewhere else. You wouldn’t have to live in Dublin, you wouldn’t have to find a new housemate for this apartment.”

“The money, Jude.”

“Who cares about the money?”

“I feel like I’m going insane listening to you. I can’t just up and leave and move to America.” I turn away to scrub the kitchen sink and he moves to lean against a counter and wedge himself back into my eyeline. 

“Well, you objectively can, so.”

“Jude…”

He’s grinning now, “You think I’m crazy.”

“No, I think you’re passionate.”

“So are you.”

“Please…”

“C’mon, don’t be upset, it’s just an idea,” He gently pulls me away from the sink and turns me to face him, and only when he’s holding me by the wrists do I realise I’ve begun trembling. He kisses one palm and then the other, “What is it?”

“I just feel like… this is a lot of information all at once, and a lot of new ideas are being put forward here, I don’t know what to think about it, and I’m worried that if I don’t want to drop out of college then you’re going to go to America anyway.”

“No,” He says, “No, there’s no ultimatum, listen, I know I’m saying all of this stuff right now, but no matter what happens I’ll put us first. The last thing I’m going to do is leave you behind. If you don’t want to go to LA then I don’t want to go either.” I can’t bear to look at his face when he says that in case I can detect a lie in it. “Evie,” tilting my face, “I love you. I love you so much. I don’t want to be anywhere if you’re not going to be nearby, you know that. If you want to stay here and finish college then that’s what you should do, and I’ll be right here with you as you do it.”

“Alright,” and I kiss him, and keep kissing him, and he keeps kissing me back. “Can I have time to think about all of this?” I say when we come up for air, “You know, to really just get my head around it?”

“Yeah of course,” He says, “Whatever time you need.”

“Okay,” I wind my arms around his neck and kiss him even more as we forget about the whole conversation. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[osaumu]

once the generators had been switched off from outside the quarantine zone, the last thing to seep out of the apartment was the heat. it didn't help that since the broadcast, dazai had sat on their balcony and spent the evening peeling pistachios out of their shells, throwing them over the side of the building and watching as the wind managed to pick up the lightest of them and carry them away, the ones with more mass falling onto some poor senior's space below, the absent tutting filtering back up to where he sat rooted to the spot, thinking and freezing. the charade stopped once he heard the front door open again, the velcro of a gun holster ripping and a thud from the weapon being placed down. shuffling footsteps sounding behind him into the kitchen and when he gave a small glance over his shoulder to confirm the familiar presence, dazai relaxed and turned his gaze back to the setting sun, the cascade of orange hues cast upon the clouds, lighting up the sky like a flare. against the partial white of remaining clouds, when he raised his hand to inspect the wound that had not healed nor worsened, he sighed. quite the predicament.

he wondered, absently running his thumb over the cut and feeling it warm under the touch, whether he would know if the insanity gripped him the way it did others. he felt no less sane than the average day, and if being kept like livestock for slaughter didn't do anything to worsen his mood, would he be able to tell if he started to truly lose his mind, or would he have to rely on the unseeing eyes of others to stop him biting out a throat or two, before it was too late? it might not even happen, dazai had to remind himself, because if the rate of infection is anything to go by, i have well and truly surpassed the timeframe allotted for the parasite to take hold, but i could be a late bloomer ... ⸺ a slap to the back of his hand ripped dazai from his thoughts, a breeze of flamed hair passing his peripherals as chuuya took up the space next to him as he hissed, warm touch pressed against him from their knees to their thighs. only when he saw the blanket covering chuuya's shoulders did he start to feel the early night's chill, shiver running through his spine and settling at the base of it before the other half draped around his own frame, enveloping him in warmth and the smell of their shared laundry detergent ⸺ chuuya's pick, much like the majority of the furnishings because he had wanted the place in the first instance, proclaimed he had the right eye for interior design, and dazai had been inclined to agree.

⅋ @chuyua . . . “ this is a one time thing. ”

words spoken and cracking the silence as dazai felt his marred hand picked up and placed between two warm palms. ah, so he notices. though he knew that, had always known that chuuya could read his mind if he looked closely enough. maybe that simple thought would be enough to warm him further, gaze coloured crimson in the setting sun boring holes into the contact before his head dropped to chuuya's shoulder with a drawn out sigh, bone deep and tired from the day spent chasing the apartment building's inhabitants around, trying to maintain a civil order and all but failing in every aspect, but the corners of it lifting just so with the contact alone. “ sure it is. i won't say a word when i feel those ice picks you have for toes pressing against my leg later. ” the gentle quiet that lay between them, the searing touch of chuuya's hands enveloping his own, it begged to be ruined, scarred, torn apart and broken as though undeserving of it. a puff of air from between his lips. “ we should make a pact, like they do in movies. ” too dangerous to seal it in blood, and dazai didn't feel much like mingling spit between their palms, so words of promise would have to suffice. “ whatever happens, if i start going mad, i'll tell you. i'm already half - way there, so take that as your pre - warning, mon petite officer. ” the gentle rub of their shoulders, dazai's free hand catching the blanket as it threatened to fall. chuuya his village, he would have to work to keep the blockade from failing. “ and you tell me. not like i wouldn't notice, but it's the thought that counts. mm ... agreed? ”

[wfagamerants]

The one thing I want to start this off with is to say I have no interest in participating in Paper Mario discourse. If you asked me if I enjoyed Color Splash and Origami King I’d give you a genuine yes (Sticker Star not so much, but few would fight me on that one). I have my preferences leaning towards the old stuff, but this isn’t about shitting on the new, just a celebration of what’s currently happening.

With that said, let’s get this going.

I don’t think a big introduction and recap of the Mario RPG history is all that necessary here. Only thing I’ll note is that I played all of them in release order over the years, apart from RPG, which had to wait until the Wii Virtual Console release in 2008, I even played the Mario & Luigi remakes, so I have a lot of opinions.

Needless to say, the Mario RPGs were one of those branches of Mario I just always expected to be there over the years. Along with the platformers, sports games, Kart, Party, etc, it was always one of those reliably present parts of the franchise I could count on to be there system after system.

The past couple of years though did feel very different. Paper Mario, while still retaining RPG elements, has shifted to a more adventure game kind of focus and with Alphadream gone, Mario & Luigi series is now in limbo, with nothing certain on whether the series will be handed off to another developer or be kept dormant for some time.

There are the Mario + Rabbids games and I like those a lot, but I personally never saw them as part of the RPGs, moreso strategy games with RPG elements like Fire Emblem. It’s just how I see things but I won’t argue with people that think otherwise, perfectly fine in my book.

It just felt like that part of the franchise was basically done for, after so many years of being around, but then, this happened.

Super Mario RPG was announced to get a remake. This was obviously huge for many reasons. It is a niche title that did well back then, but doesn’t really represent the Mario world as we know it now. Not even Peach’s Castle had its design set in stone at that point, that’s how early a take on Mario as a world it is.

It’s extremely faithful to boot. Mario, Peach and Bowser were updated to their modern looks and Toad now has dips on the blue vest, all more than fine changes and besides that, the game is a modernized take on the original to a tee. The environments, original character designs, even everyone’s proportions, are spot on and kept as you remember them.

There is more to say, but that ties into the big announcement we got last Direct too. You know the one:

Paper Mario The Thousand Year Door is also getting a remake and it’s looking every bit as faithful as the RPG remake.

Given how much I have adored this branch of the franchise, I can’t put into words how much this return to what we used to have means to me, it’s genuinely special to me.

It’s hard to say which of these I would have deemed more out of reach, but having both of them on the horizon really makes me wonder about some stuff. In particular, perhaps they are deliberately aiming to relaunch the RPG branch with these, especially knowing the Switch successor is more than likely on the horizon.

Regardless of what the future holds, this announcement hit me in the best way on a personal level. I love RPG and was excited to see it get such a loving comeback, but Paper Mario felt like an even bigger deal. RPG was a one-off that did its thing and then went quiet. Paper Mario is a series that after the second game, has seen change after change that, along with interviews, made it seem like the series I fell in love with, wouldn’t ever go back to what it used to be.

Gonna say once again that this isn’t a means to bash the new games, there even is a lot to them I enjoy. The overworld gameplay is consistently good and it’s more explorative edge and things to do in it even are something the old games can learn from. I also really like Huey and Olivia and genuinely think they and their dynamics with Mario really do a lot to keep me engaged with their games.

Thing is,I still think the old formula was more rock solid and don’t believe in tossing that out just for the sake of being different. There really isn’t anything wrong with sequels that take an established foundation and just expand on and play with it and it’s not like the Crafts Trilogy, as I’ll call them for brevity, don’t repeat ideas either. Every new game has a castle in the sky, a crafts themed main partner, some level of Toad rescuing,  a game show at some point, Luigi popping up once per area, etc. Not even saying that as a bad thing, just saying it’s not like the series over the past 11 years hasn’t been using some elements multiple times too.

There is also THAT subject, character variety and yes, I am in the boat that the lack of it has harmed the modern games and no, I don’t think that what the old games did was very different from what Mario always does. 

I said this back in my essay on 64, but Mario always does what needs to be done to adapt itself to a new genre. In the platformers, new takes on established species are usually reserved for the mooks or bosses, because they are such an important asset of the game. In an RPG you get that too, but the NPCs you interact with also get more variety, especially the Toads, because interacting with them and a large chunk getting various bits of involvements in story beats or sidequests, is a big part of the game.

I genuinely don’t see how Galoombas, Goombrats, Cat Goombas or in a non-mook example, Goombette from Odyssey and RPG Goombas like Goombella or Frankly are all that different. They all serve a particular purpose and are given distinct designs and characteristics that compliment them. They’re the same thing and of course that’s also gonna mean more unique designs in the RPGs, because while reused models/sprites for generic NPCs is an RPG norm, you do want to create the impression of a lived in, diverse world, instead of making you consciously feel like you’re talking to the same guy over and over again.

It’s a reason and I was floored when I learned it, that the Super Mario kun adaptation of Color Splash has more Toad variety than the game itself:

Sure they got the same outfits, but that's what kun always did, even during TTYD days;

It’s just a massive benefit to establish character and a reason that the Rescue Squad, Captain T. Ode and the Professor from TOK are standouts of the Crafts trilogy, because they DO have something to visually communicate their character and go from there.

These games ARE still deeply rooted in Mario and just add what needs to be added to translate well into an RPG. Like people give a lot of flak to say, the old Dry Bones design in the first two Paper Marios and I get it, but it is important to note this was the most recent design available for them at the time:

The modern Dry Bones design wasn’t established yet, so they worked with what they had. The games never twisted anything Mario in ways that defiled its vision, they just did what they felt was needed to make the game enjoyable as an RPG and a Mario game.

Goes without saying, but seeing the battle system not tampered with is also really lovely to see. I won’t throw shade at the modern games, but I do personally think none of the modern games have come up with a replacement that compares to the old system, with SS and CS even having ways to softlock you in certain circumstances like a really unlucky Kamek curse in the latter, keeping you from using Jump cards against flying enemies.

This isn’t about me not liking something different. I’m an avid pre-Switch ND Cube Mario Party defender who would play all five of them over Super Mario Party (now here’s a hot take).

It’s not about me being pissy about the paper focus. I prefer when it’s just a stylistic choice, with the occasional visual gag nodding to it, but I can give credit when I feel a use of it is creative and not just the characters mentioning they’re paper like that’s a joke of its own.

I had more points like this but decided to trim things because as I said, the point isn’t to bash the new games, I just genuinely think RPG and TTYD have a stronger foundation and are just better translations of Mario into the RPG genre and hope to see them signal a return to this style of Mario RPGs. Heck, they can still make adventure games like the crafts trilogy as their own sub-series and freed from the burden of having to please an existing fan base of a different style, I honestly want to see them go all out with the direction they go for. It and the RPG Paper Mario can easily co-exist that way.

More than anything though, I am amazed these two games exist at all. Both RPG and TTYD are treasured by many, but they aren’t the platformers or Mario Kart or something more recent that can be seen as currently relevant. Bringing these two back shows they are listening to the fans and I hope they do well enough to show to Nintendo that this is something that pays off.

Above all else I want to celebrate that we are getting this kind of Mario game again. Sure, I’ll argue WHY I think it’s such a good thing, but this is more than anything a time to be happy, not to fight.

[abandoned-apothecary]

"Mold In This Home."

A metaphorical story about letting go of codependent relationships.

Boxes crowded the living room, the walls had been stripped of their pictures and other decorations, what used to be an extravagant living room had turned to a pale lifeless empty room.

 I’ll admit it was hard and sad to leave behind something so familiar, I remember so many nights of pouring my heart into this home, giving it all that I was to make each room look enchanting. 

The blisters, bruises and calluses had never gotten to me, no matter how much my friends or family pointed out how unhealthy the decorating had become over the years. What would they know? I would ask myself some nights I put in the work to keep this home, I love it enough to make the sacrifices for it. They’ll never understand 

The choice to leave had been on my mind for a while yet nothing but anxiety and intrusive thoughts had stopped me from leaving this all too familiar safe space of mine. 

“If I give it up now then I never truly loved this home properly.” “I’m nothing but careless” “Only a heartless person would make this decision, don’t you love the home?” 

I felt alive when I decorated this home or as alive as the momentary gratification allowed me, being away from the home sometimes made me sick to my stomach, my hands would shake uncontrollably at the thought of something drastic happening to the home if I weren’t present in times of chaos, the anxiety of a storm or weathering of the home drove me mad some nights.

In my eyes the home and its appearance always came first, who exactly would I be if I left? I'd based my entire identity in being its designer, my worth was completely tied to everything about the house.

My mind had always been preoccupied worrying and thinking about the home and whether or not it was safe and secure.

Mirrors had never been an item of decor I’d ever looked into, why would I? I have a home and I should be lucky, why worry for myself or my appearance? Wasn't the appearance of this home enough for me?

I never understood the few mutual friends of mine who had homes yet also kept mirrors, don’t they realize there just isn’t enough time for both? 

My home had become my mirror, I felt like myself when I was close, I felt alive, the thought of owning a mirror mirror had become pointless in my eyes because "if I was with the thing that brought me the most gratification and put a stop to the anxiety I felt when I was away, then why bother searching?"

Things started to escalate as they went down hill, no matter how much I catered to making the home look nice, no matter how much I attempted to pour my heart into finding that spark that I once had in decorating, my mind would always slip off wondering where my mirror had gone. 

The home and its decor had began to slowly become mold in my life, it invaded my mind when I was away, like thick black mold, the clutter from the previous decorations had started to become a mess around my house, the clutter had started to become discouraging, the yearning for a mirror of my own began to grow, to see my reflection again instead of seeing the overwhelming amounts of clutter from the home started to be an every day thought. 

How could I even think about the idea when on top of the decorating I had the clutter to now clean up by myself, a mess I created myself, I often felt frustrated some nights, attempting to find a substitute for the mirror, attempting to manage the anxiety of being away from the home. I'd feel defeated some days as I’d attempt to feel my face, trying to figure out my features and who I was before the home came into the picture. 

The bruises and calluses had also started to manifest in my life, the nights I spent adding more decorations would often end in unexpected injuries to myself that became too painful to ignore.

Decorating the home I loved so much had became a chore I dreaded on one side of my mind, yet no matter how much I tried to pull away and take breaks from the decorating an amount unbearable of anxiety eventually caught up to me, leading to days of daydreaming about going back to decorating soon, it had become a nightmare, it began to be my only sense of identity and worth, it swallowed my whole life and my identity with it.  

I don’t want to live like this anymore. I began to think to myself when I felt the urge to decorate again, the days had become gray and miserable without the home when I took breaks. The mold from the my "safe space" then began to affect my health, my sleep, my identity, it took it all from me.

I felt hopeless somedays, I often spent days hating myself for wanting my own mirror, hating myself for not decorating as much and thus proving my point that I was neglecting the one thing I promised I’d love the day I bought this space.

I knew where my mirror was but the anxiety of outgrowing my love for this home scared me, the anxiety that if I saw my reflection I’d never return to the home again, it felt like war in my mind.  

The home had been mine for years, when I’d first bought the home I made a promise to myself that no matter what I’d put all my effort into it, I promised myself that I’d be better than any of the previous owners. 

Things started to fall apart, the home began to become unsafe for me, the mold in the walls began to slowly creep down the walls, it often felt like being in the eye of the hurricane before pure destruction.

I don't exactly know how or why but something snapped one night inside of me, my body felt like it moved on its own as I made my way to the closet, my hands shook as intrusive thoughts desperately tried to direct me back to attending to the home.

"I am something without it" I thought as I forced my way through the clutter closer to the closet.

"Things will be better, please don't look in the mirror" My pleaded with me.

The home had been all I’ve known for years, seeing my reflection again after so long became a path I had always been too scared to go down. "What if I'm---different?"

The moonlight illuminated the mirror, my mind pleaded louder for me to turn my attention back to the home, it pleaded with me to make one final attempt to find that spark in decorating that I had in the beginning, as I looked into the mirror, the thoughts began to quiet, the thoughts slowly redirected their attention to the nights where I’d pushed myself so hard to the point of tears to be enough, to make this home my top priority.

As I met myself again for the first time in what felt like decades it was as if nothing changed, my high cheek bones, my olive skin tone, I felt as if everything with the home and the decoration evaporated into thin air.

I paused and looked back at the home, the spark I once felt had vanished as I finally admitted to myself "The home you once had is gone after all those years."

I smile to myself as I remember who I am, who I was without the home.

I can survive without you after all. 

You'd lost your power over me, I slipped through your fingers as I learned to live my life properly without you, without your harsh expectations of me, the absence of you helped me to realize “I am enough.”

The End. 

---

:) Sorry if this is a little choppy, I'll be posting more in the future.

[wiz4wiz]

2&7?

2- Is Audio Drama the only medium I've worked in? How does it compare to other mediums? Okay this got way longer than I expected it to - Before getting started with audio drama, I spent 10+ years doing live comedy, mostly improv and sketch, in Boston's theater scene. It's a great city for comedy, and it's full of some incredibly funny and nice people, which is where I pull most of my voice actors and collaborators from. There were years where I would have shows five or more nights a week, and getting up onstage to work out a new idea and get immediate feedback from the audience whether it worked or not really helped a lot when I turned to ADs. It gives you an instinct for gags and how to get them across as quickly and clearly as possible. Compared to live theatre, audio drama is much more time-consuming and work-intensive. It takes so, so long to go from idea to script to recording to sound design to release, but as a trade off, there's a lot more control over the final product. I can really tweak a joke or sound cue until it's just right. I can play in conceptual and design spaces that are just not available on the stage. The amount that a piece is really mine at the end is much higher, and that's really satisfying. On the other hand by the time I get done making a piece, I've been so close to it for so long that I can only see it's flaws, so I usually can't enjoy it until like, a year later, when the memory of where the gaps are between concept and execution are has faded. Also, the feedback from audio drama compared to live theatre... In live theatre you get laughter, gasps, applause right then and there. You know what's working and it feels amazing to fly on those conceptual threads. ADs on the other hand you get maybe a few reviews, a few tweets, and you can see your download numbers go up (something I check way too often for my own mental health). I've been very lucky and been sent some wonderful pieces of fanart and had some lovely interactions, but it can sometimes feel like you've poured a lot of love down a well. That said, a downside of live theatre is you have to do it anew every night and you have to constantly be booking space, promoting, putting in time and energy and money just to be able to have an audience. With audio dramas, the reach that you have is so, so much larger. Wiz4Wiz has had tens of thousands of downloads! I couldn't imagine having a stage show get seen by more than maybe a thousand people if I'm extremely lucky. And seeing people recommend it to one another and still enjoy it years later is an amazing feeling. It's also led to meeting some amazing people in the audio drama space and getting to work with some real heroes of mine.

7 - If you could make a crossover (canon or noncanon) with any other audio drama, what would it be? I think a Brimstone Valley Mall/Wizard Seeking Wizard crossover would be really cool.

[thistleandpoppies]

Morpheus stands next to me, his skeletal, snow-white hand that I have kissed more times than there are stars in the sky lingering over our laptop’s keyboard. One click will change the world, for better or for worse. I don’t really know. At this point, I’m not sure I even know myself or him. If I have ever known either of us.

You’re supposed to know who you sleep with. It’s safety 101. Yet, how many one-night stands gone wrong happen every day, everywhere? Right now, someone out there is going on a date with a stranger just to be found later in neatly packed bags in the forest. And do we truly know even those whom we share a bed with night after night for years? In homicide investigations, the main suspect is always the spouse. That’s all you need to know about partnership. About love.

Morpheus and I, we are lovers, but we are also friends, first and foremost.

“Do you still question me?” Morpheus asks, his long finger frozen in less than an inch over the Send button. “Do you still despise my design, Hob Gadling? Despise me?”

I’ve never launched bulk email software, but I would bet my life savings that I can imagine what happens when you send out a newsletter. I also know how many recipients are there on the other side of their screens about to receive Morpheus’ final message.

His dreams are my dreams, after all. So are his nightmares.

“No.” My voice cracks, but I can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t. I fucked it up, and, in the end, it cost me everything. It cost me him. “I was wrong, Morpheus. I would give anything to prove myself to you once again. If you ever… If you ever find me deserving again.”

Morpheus hums noncommittally and glances at the screen where thousands of words weave together into a story scarier than the worst of primeval horrors. More powerful than ancient rights, summoning capricious gods or hideous demons. He’s so calm and collected and so certain that I won’t harm him, and this observation is the only thing that brings me a modicum of peace. I won’t harm him or let any harm come his way, that’s for sure. But after everything, I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought otherwise.

“You have always loved humanity so much, even at your lowest,” Morpheus points out as if commenting on yearly revenue amid some deathly boring marketing presentation. “Your love… Your unyielding passion for these deceptive creatures has always been beyond my comprehension. Perhaps I will never understand it. Perhaps it is the only thing beyond my station.”

“Morpheus.” I’m not above begging, and I suppose I’d rather start before it’s too late. “Do whatever you think is right. I’ve learned my lesson, I will support you no matter what. All I want is you. And I want you to believe me.”

I also want to take his hand, lead him home, and pretend none of this happened. Pretend we’re not wanted for all the shit we did in the span of the last year. Is it even a long or a short time to fuck up one’s life? Have we been productive?

Morpheus smiles coolly.

“Fear what you wish for, Hob Gadling.” He takes his hand off the keyboard and steps aside. “Do it yourself then. Prove that you choose me above all those millions of people you have never known but claim to love nonetheless.”

I can feel my eyes widening without a double eyelid surgery. This is so easy and so cruel, and so on-brand for Morpheus. The red Send button is there, like the light at the end of the tunnel that turned out to be a high-speed train. Like his ruby brooch that would have looked ridiculous on anyone but him.

“I love you,” I tell him, wondering whether something would have changed for the better if I had only said it more often. We could have been drinking Irish Coffee admiring fjords in Iceland. We could have been lying spread like starfishes in our hotel room somewhere in Sicily, having fried ourselves for the whole day at the beach.

We could have. Yet, we are here now.

[jeevaschrist]

i was wondering if I could get a black butler matchup/ship. I’m female, she/her, 20, bisexual as hell, INTJ, and a new media artist (still in college tho). I’m 5’1 and a half with an average build, brown eyes, and black wavy hair till my shoulders. I wear clear cat eye glasses. i honestly don’t know how to describe my style cause it changes constantly depending on the vibe I’m feeling. I do however live for accessories whether it be butterfly hair clips, elf ear cuffs, arms stacked with bracelets, or rings on every finger. As for personality I am a MASSIVE introvert except for with my best friends where my unhinged side comes out. Despite being an introvert I’m very comfortable with leadership. I’m also quite thoughtful and contemplative just letting my mind drift off to wherever. I’m far from clingy and prefer to keep my own space even if I know you well. I can be a bit stubborn, and opinionated at times however. I’m a huge planner and hate when things go off schedule or when things are chosen abruptly. I also find it hard to start new things, but once I’m in the groove its fine. As mentioned before, I am studying new media art. I love game design, 3d modeling, interactive design, visual effects etc. I also love art history, especially Pre Raphaelite Arthurian paintings, Italian renaissance architecture, Egyptian manuscripts and Greco Roman sculpture. For hobbies I love reading, gaming, binge watching, digital illustration, dancing, rollerblading, baking cookies, and listening to video essays/podcasts/audiobooks. My favorite genres are detective, classics, fantasy, folklore, mythology and lore from any of my fandoms. I love listening to music in a multitude of languages as well whether Arabic, Italian, French, Hindi and much more. Think that’s it! Thank you!

hi xx

i think i have a match for you but it might not be what ur thinking

i happen to ship you with william t spears :p

this man might be kind of (very) serious and strict but in my fantastical mind he's that on the surface but there's the sliiiiightest but of a softie down below. just a tad. i really think he would take a high interest in your interests and i think he'd also like learn about them in his off time or your off time from each other and he'd come to you super matter-of-factual like "by the way you didn't know this but-" type thing. he'd act like he doesn't give two shits abt things you're doing but in reality the reason he tags along and learns about shit is because he wants you to be happy and safe so he has to be there. your stubborn/opinionated side would also entertain him, but the fact that you don't get as out of hand as grell (at least i think) means he doesn't think of you as a chore and more as a companion when you first meet, then slowly but surely evolves into a relationship later down the road. your style would however confuse him but i also think he'd be down for tolerating it, even maybe asking about it. he isn't the type to necessarily hype you up or anything however don't be surprised if you happen to find a new pair of glasses or ear cuffs laying on your bed~