#ficlet: reward

[imfinereallyy]

“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.

They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.

Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.

“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.

“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“

Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.

“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.

“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.

“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.

“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”

“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”

Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”

Ryan startles backwards, “I—“

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.

“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”

Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.

Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”

Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.

Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”

Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”

They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.

[musical-chick-13]

Sooooo many things I should be writing. Instead, I am doing a silly, very unserious prequel to a fic I haven't even finished yet.

[stoically]

Ava sometimes gets overstimulated physically

Her sense of touch went from ‘full volume needed to get even a hint of sensation’ to ‘full sensation at least volume and you broke the dial at full’. Bea first discovers this when she comes home to find Ava in Bea’s oldest most worn sweatshirt (one of the few remaining possessions she has). It’s super comfy. Which is exactly why Ava stole it.

“Is that my sweater?” Beatrice is so shocked to see Ava’s fully bare shoulder peeking out, that she speaks without thinking. “Are you naked under it?!”

Ava shrugs it off playfully. “Yeah, of course. It’s the softest thing we have and everything is just very… everything.”

“Very what?” Beatrice cocks her head.

“All of the things. Soft, hard, cold, hot. I feel like my skin’s doing so many things it’s going to make me dizzy.” Beatrice’s eyes soften. “I love it. Just sometimes I wish I could turn it down, a bit.”

“You’re overstimulated,” Beatrice’s voice is gentle in understanding. “Of course. I, I should have known.”

Ava smiles. “How could you?”

“Well,” Beatrice pauses for a second to stare in Ava’s eyes, “I know now. Is there anything else you’d like? To make it more comfortable.”

“Anything?” Ava sounds hopeful.

“Yes Ava, anything you’d like.” The words are laden with unspoken vow.

Ava’s smile blossoms into a grin and Beatrice discovers her favourite flower moments before she has a heart attack. For surely watching Ava pull down her pants and underwear, leaving her covered (barely) only by Beatrice’s oldest and most worn sweater, is sufficient cause for a heart attack. “Thank fuck!” Ava crows as she strips all but that unbearably thin, unbearably short sweater off. It’s hem hangs tauntingly just below the firm roundness of Ava’s ass. “I know polite society is all about the clothes but you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be naked today.”

Beatrice makes a vague dying noise of spontaneous agreement. She, too, has wanted Ava naked today. She just didn’t realize how much until now. Some distant voice Beatrice almost recognizes as her own asks, “are you going to leave the sweater on?”

Ava nods, prancing into the bedroom with her empty clothes to put them in the hamper exactly like Beatrice (typically) wants. Beatrice is a little distracted by other wants right now. Sinful, delightful wants. “Yeah, it really is super soft.” Ava’s out of the kitchen but Beatrice can picture her beautiful eyes lighting up with joy.

“Thank fuck,” Beatrice prays with extreme gratitude for the limitation on dangerous temptation.

Ava hums and pops her head around the door. “Sorry, did you say something?”

Beatrice gives her a tight smile. “Nothing important. Now, what should we cook for supper tonight?”

Ava shines, as she always does in Beatrice’s eyes, at the endless possibilities.

[heycoyotegirl]

early season 2 daxton ficlet

~650 word fix-it/justification for the weirdness of their first date (because while I think it makes sense for Devi to be Paxton's first real girlfriend, I was utterly perplexed by the decision to make him A: not know what a date is and B: treat a date with Devi like one with the other girls he's hooked up with, when he literally called off their sex agreement in season 1 because he knew she was special and he wanted something different with her) also I wrote this back in 2021, so it might not fit with their characterization in later seasons

“And when should I be expecting Trent and Marcus on this date?” Devi asks. She had aimed for light and teasing, but Paxton winces.

He chews on his bottom lip, eyes flicking towards her and then darting away again. She opens her mouth, about to make a joke and play it off (or more realistically, somehow make things worse), when he blurts: “I wasn’t totally honest about that.”

Her teeth snap together.

Paxton winces again. “Wait. That sounded bad. I mean, I— I should’ve been honest, but I—” He stops and lets out a frustrated huff, his hands clenching into fists on his thighs. He inhales slowly and then catches her gaze. “I was embarrassed. I wasn’t lying; Trent and Marcus come on my dates, but I left out the reason.”

When he pauses, she gives him a jerky nod.

He swallows, looking away. “I’ve been on solo dates in the past, and some girls get— handsy. And sure, sometimes I’m into it, but sometimes—”

Devi inhales sharply, and his eyes snap back to hers.

“It’s fine,” he says immediately.

The fact that he’s so quick to try to reassure her is another nail in the coffin. “Paxton—”

Paxton shakes his head, eyes wide. He reaches a hand out towards her before abruptly pulling it back. “I obviously knew our date wouldn’t be like that—that you wouldn’t be like that—but Trent and Marcus saw how nervous I was and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I probably should’ve tried harder, but I guess I’m just used to having them around. And it felt like less pressure. I’m sorry.”

All right. Several things clamor for her attention: 1. Paxton was nervous for their date. 2. He apparently thinks that her primary concern is whether he thought that she—the girl who asked him to have sex with her the first time they spoke and then spread rumors about them hooking up—might just want to use him, rather than the fact that girls have gotten handsy when he didn’t want that. 3. The way Trent’s mom had nearly felt him up even with two other people in the room had been weird before, but thinking about it in this new context makes her feel sick.

Oh no.

4. She’s been silent for too long; Paxton’s shoulders are climbing towards his ears, and he looks about a second away from bolting.

She just needs to say something. Anything. Be supportive. She opens her mouth to assure him that she’s not mad, but of course the first thing she blurts out is an overexcited, “You were nervous?”

Great. Foot firmly in mouth. But at least Paxton’s expression has shifted from hunted to baffled. Progress.

His brows furrow. “Yes? Obviously? But that’s not the point—”

She bites her lip to stop herself from grinning—this is a serious conversation, Devi! Get ahold of yourself!—and grabs his hand. He cuts himself off mid-sentence, immediately giving her his full attention.

She shakes her head a bit belatedly and says, “Paxton, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m not mad.”

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he says, voice low. “It would’ve saved me from a lonely garbage picking day.”

“Maybe, but you told me now, and that’s what matters.” Paxton squeezes her hand, and Devi’s voice is breathy when she continues, “And I’ll be your garbage partner whenever you want.”

“You’re too good for me, Vishwakumar.” Paxton's smile spreads until he’s shooting her that trademark blinding grin, and Devi drops her chin towards her chest, fighting not to curl her shoulders in and shy away from him completely.

She can’t keep doing this. She has to tell him about the kiss in Malibu, about her and Ben and the failed breakup attempt.

But then Paxton’s holding her cheek oh-so gently as he guides her into a kiss, and she can’t bear to bring him down.

Tomorrow she’ll tell him.

Tomorrow she’ll end things with Ben.

Tomorrow she’ll fix everything.

[catsafarithewriter]

Thank you for your aid @tcrmommabear Here is a snippet, based on this video!

x

"A hedgehog princess?" Haru echoes disbelievingly. "Those exist?"

"You've met Cat Kings, but Hedgehog Princesses are where you draw the line, Chicky?"

"Cat Kings make sense," she insists. "I've never met a cat who didn't think it was royalty." There came twin noises of disgruntlement from both felines present (which was rich considering that Baron went by the name of, well, Baron) both of which she ignores. "But hedgehogs never struck me as the kind to have a monarchy."

"Too prickly?" Muta offers.

"More to the point, you're engaged?" Baron says, bringing the conversation back to the realms of relevancy. "When?"

Crows really don't have the facial muscles to look sheepish, and yet Toto still manages it. "Yesterday."

"How?"

"I... may have helped a hedgehog safely cross the road."

Muta starts laughing. When it doesn't abate, he sinks into the Bureau sofa, paws cupped around his muzzle in an attempt to muffle the guffaws.

Both Haru and Baron take a moment longer to digest this information. When it becomes clear that Muta's laughter is as quiet as it's going to get, Haru tentatively offers, "Was this hedgehog, perhaps, a princess?"

Toto glowers. "The dowager queen."

"You saved royalty and now you're getting married off by way of reward," Baron translates.

"Something like that."

Muta's laughter breaks down into wheezing, apparently incapable of even a scathing remark. Several more laboured moments tick by.

"On the plus side," Haru says eventually, "at least we've got practice with this sort of thing."

[minecraftbookshelf]

Ooooo this looks like fun! I’ll take some writing prompts!

hermit fanon swap - an art game!

Reblog this to let your followers know they can send art requests to your ask box

if you are a writer you can also reblog this and make little snippets about hermits and their new traits

Vex!Grian and Avian!Mumbo as fun examples

Artless version behind the cut:

[power-chords]

Can you please explain your dialogue theory of fanfiction?

In short, that dialogue, more than anything, makes or breaks a fanfic. What do posts like "He would not fucking say that" and "They would NOT have communication skills that good" have in common? Talk. Characters expressing themselves to one another. The faithful recreation of identifiable speech patterns is weighted heavily in the evaluation of a fic's quality. By "speech patterns" I do not just mean the semantic content of a given character's expression, but idiosyncrasies of style and slang, vocabulary and idiom, even gesture, musicality, and rhythm.

Of course believable dialogue is far from the only thing that makes a good fanfic Good. And there are forms of fic writing, particularly highly abbreviated ones like drabbles and ficlets, that in practice tend to de-emphasize its significance. But if we are talking about the romantic, erotic shippy stuff that is the meat and potatoes of online fandom, dialogue does the heaviest lifting short of the consummation itself. Arguably more so! It's the real keystone to the catharsis, and often the catalyst for it. Is there a confession occurring? A provocation? An evasion or ultimatum? Zoom out, big picture: What is the most potent and fundamental mechanic for developing complexity, tension, and transformation within a relationship, getting it to go from one thing to another? Making these two idiots talk to each other! Often clumsily and indirectly and maladaptively, at the worst possible time and in the worst possible situation, about anything or everything but what they should be — but talk they usually do.

What makes fanfic specifically so challenging and rewarding in this regard is that the talking is as much a feat of translation as invention, because both reader and writer are working off an existing model. Liberties taken with plot, form, and even narrative voice have wider buffer zones; you can get creative with circumventing the events of canon while still conforming to its emotional and substantive essence.

But the training wheels come off the moment you open your mouth to speak in another character's voice. And man, nothing will break a reader's immersion quite like he would not fucking say that.

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | masterlist

status: ongoing one shot collection pairing: husband!joel x f!reader summary: chronicles the daily life, past and present, of husband!joel and his pretty little wife. warnings: 18+ MDNI, sub/dom relationship, large age gap (20+ years), free use kink, each chapter is smut heavy with sprinklings of domestic fluff, praise kink, heavy on the pet names for reader, chapters are individually tagged with warnings! 🌹 main masterlist | ao3 | kofi | fic tag 🌹

✦ = smut ✩ = fluff

main chapters: ♡ better now ✦ 3.9k — a snippet in the seemingly perfect daily life of husband!joel and his lovely housewife. ♡ morning glory ✦✩ 4.3k — saturday mornings are for his wife, joel claims, so he spends this one making his wife come as many times as he damn well pleases. ♡ generous ✦ 10.5k — tommy stops by to see you and joel in the evening, and the night takes a turn that you never could have expected. joel x f!reader x tommy for this chapter. ♡ sit tight ✦ 6.5k — you're hosting a dinner party in the miller household, and as usual, joel can't help but turn it into a chance to tease his pretty little wife. ♡ do you have an appointment? ✦✩ 11.2k — pretty wife visits joel at work when he forgets his lunch, and he wants to show everyone there just how good you are to him. and when you're good, you get a reward. ♡ meet cute, part one , part two ✦✩ 8.3k, 9.5k — a flashback to the night joel and pretty wife meet, and the beginnings of their relationship. ♡ sorry, baby ✦✩ 4k — joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. his pretty little wife makes it all better. ♡ crazy 4 u ✦✩ 9k — joel has historically made sure that valentine's day is special for his pretty little wife, but this year he's gone above and beyond.

ficlets: ♡ butt dial ✩ 2.3k — you're home alone while joel is out with his brother. he butt dials you, and you hear some very interesting things.

[wileys-russo]

ignorance is bliss ficlet II l.williamson x reader

my angry cinnamon roll gf’s 🤭

feel free to read the proper full fic that this is a spin off from here

ignorance is bliss ficlet II l.williamson x reader

"did she say she wasn't coming?" lia asked again with a frown as you shrugged hopelessly, just as clueless to your girlfriends absence from training as the rest of the team, leah now almost an hour late and not answering anyone's calls.

"no she was already up and getting ready when i left, she seemed fine?" you explained, having left before your girlfriend to get a coffee with lotte who had then driven the two of you to training, leahs unusual absence causing a pit of worry to form in the bottom of your stomach.

"oh thank god here she is hold on.” you breathed a sigh of relief as her contact flashed on your screen.

“may i please be excused quickly jonas? its leah." you asked softly, wincing as you interrupted the briefing and felt everyone’s eyes watching on as you hurried out of the room, accepting the call.

"leah where the hell are you? you're late and you're never late! in fact you are always on my case about making us late to things." you rambled, stepping outside and holding the phone to your ear.

"yeah uh, i sort of…ran into some car trouble on the way there." leah replied in a strange tone of voice making you frown. "car trouble? whats happened? are you alright?" you questioned quickly with growing concern, leaning against the wall behind you as your mind raced with all the worst case scenarios.

"well..." leah trailed off and you waited patiently for an answer but there wasn't one. "well? just spit it out lee, as long as you're safe we can fix whatever happened, a car is only something material babe." you assured her softly, feeling your chest tighten with nerves at her obvious hesitation to come clean.

"no no it wasn't an accident or anything I um, well I-" leah danced around her words and you felt your patience thinning, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

"isortoflostmylicensecauseigotdonespeedingagainandineedyoutocomeandpickmeup." your girlfriend word vomited so fast you couldn't make out a single word of what she was saying. "what? slower please lee." you pinched at the bridge of your nose, exhaling deeply.

"i sort of lost my license cause i got done speeding again and i need you to come and pick me up…please." leah repeated and your eyes widened as you finally understood, the silence on your side of the line causing leahs stomach to twist into knots.

"please don't be mad i know you're always onto me about it and i really think this is the thing i needed to learn my lesson but- hey are you laughing at me?" leah frowned as you doubled over, resting a hand on your knee as you were indeed laughing at the predicement.

"oi its not funny! i can't drive for three months now!" leah shouted and you could almost hear the stroppy pout which would be forming on the older girls lips.

"it is funny because i did in fact warn you of this time and time again and you never listened. i told you so!" you sung out with a grin, leah somewhat relieved you weren't upset with her but also not appreciating that your amusement was at her expense.

"too bad i wasn't there to flirt your way out of it huh?" you smiled smugly, rewarded with an annoyed huff and a half understood grumbled insult.

"sorry what was that? you're going to walk to training? wonderful i'll see you soon!" you teased, leah yelling out a hasty apology and practically begging you not hang up, something which was more than rare from your normally over confident girlfriend.

"please come get me! i'm stranded and it's really embarrassing, what if someone recognises me?" leah whined and you rolled your eyes that of course that was her biggest concern right now.

"why don't you just sit in the car then while you wait?" you sighed with a small smile, the silence on the other end telling you all you needed to know.

"oh leah....you didn't. not again!" "stop leah'ing me, you sound like my mum!" "oh i can't wait to tell your mum about this." "don't you fucking dare!"

this was not a one off occasion. leah determined to buy the most tricked out car she could had spared no expense on the bells and whistles, though one of these had time and time again meant she’d locked her keys inside the insanely posh vehicle.

"baby i warned you when you bought that stupidly expensive car that the self locking feature would bite you in the ass." "now is so not the time for an i told you so. just come and pick me up!" "come pick you up..." "right now?" "leah!" "sorry. please please please come pick me up gorgeous. i love you?"

"i'll get someone to drive me now. you know you could just get an uber leah." "what did i say about leah'ing me!" ~

"there she is." you pointed out your girlfriend with a grin as katie slowed down a little, leah sat on the curb with her hoodie pulled over her head, clearly attempting to hide herself but the glaringly obvious red and blue arsenal tracksuit did her no favors.

"she looks like that kid who runs away from home gets about five minutes down the road and calls for their parents to come pick them up!" beth laughed at your girlfriends sour expression as you pulled beside her, though you'd note that to the others in the back all pointing and teasing her.

"you had to bring a crowd?" leah grumbled, standing to her feet and crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at beth and laura in the back who were pulling faces at her.

"what’s to say other than we all just had to witness the miracle for ourselves!" katie beamed as you leaned over and whispered something quickly in her ear, the irish woman nodding subtly with a smirk.

"go on then speed demon in ya hop!" katie teased, leah reaching for the door handle as she suddenly jerked the car forward and away from her, the four of you grinning as leahs jaw tightened.

“come on leah, in we get!” laura called out much like you would encourage a dog to return to its owner, which was not lost on leah who gave the younger girl a frighteningly filthy look.

"come on woman we haven't got all day you know!" beth tapped at her wrist mocking the time as once again leah reached for the door and katie moved the car forward slightly, sending the four of you into hysterics like naughty school kids at the back of the bus.

"nah you know what fuck this! i'm walking." your girlfriend fumed, kicking at the back of katies car and storming off down the road. you were quick to unbuckle yourself, jumping out and racing off after her as the girls all called out for her to get in the car.

"baby, get in the car." you grabbed her hand, looking at her with an amused smile as the taller blonde simply glared back at you wordlessly as you wrapped yourself around her in a hug, her arms remaining stoic by her side as she refused to engage in it.

"relax the face, relax the face." you cooed sarcastically and stroked at her forehead and cheeks trying to smooth away the deep frown lines as the defender smacked your hands away but you saw a hint of a smile grace her features as you stole a quick kiss and tugged her back with you towards the car.

leahs frown deepened as she was met with slow claps and she slid in the back beside laura, flipping them all off and sinking down into her seat.

"good news mccabe. as my work wife you have now been promoted and unlocked a new daily task. driving us to training!" you grinned as the irish woman rolled her eyes playfully.

"only if you caress my thigh and hold my hand like you do with blondie darlin." katie smirked at leah through the rear view mirror as you agreed, reaching out to accept her offered hand, intertwing your digits over the middle console.

"mccabe if you'd like to ever walk again i'd suggest you not touch her, or else i may have to accidentally studs up tackle you in every single drill." leah warned seriously, katie only grinning and bringing your intertwined hands up to her mouth, kissing your knuckles as you sarcastically swooned and leah huffed.

"now now don't worry, i'm sure vivs happy to share." beth teased, holding her hand up toward leah expecting her to kiss it as the blonde simply shot her a murderous look and smacked it away.

this was going to be a long three months.

[nyoomerr]

For ficlet prompts: Bingge being jealous of SY's pet dog.

if sy is going to call him a rotten dog all the time, then bingge should at least get all the benefits of being a dog, ah! what's with the competition being treated better than him? 😂😂

---

Generally, Luo Binghe tries to be magnanimous when it comes to The Dog. The Dog had been Shen Yuan’s before Luo Binghe had ever come to this world, after all. He knows that, at least on some level, The Dog had been responsible for making sure Shen Yuan was getting up out of bed each day and remembering to eat at the correct times before Luo Binghe took that job. If The Dog had been a retainer of Luo Binghe’s, he would have rewarded it handsomely for keeping Shen Yuan safe in Luo Binghe’s absence.

The Dog is not a retainer. It is, in fact, quite stupid, and ugly, and overall very useless now that Luo Binghe is here.

It also gets away with a truly astounding number of things that Luo Binghe himself gets scolded for. 

Luo Binghe’s bites are also playful! His licks are also meant to express affection! And when Luo Binghe tries to mark his territory, it’s far more tastefully done than with dog piss! Why does he get told no and kicked out of bed for this behavior, when all The Dog gets is a few disapproving tuts and a pat on the head?!

Why can’t Luo Binghe jump up and be caught in Shen Yuan’s arms when Shen Yuan gets home?!!

“Because you’re nearly 300 pounds of pure muscle,” Shen Yuan deadpans. “I’d be flattened into a pancake.”

“It’s not all muscle,” Luo Binghe says, suddenly quite defensive about this point. 

He’d made a point to soften up a bit for Shen Yuan specifically! There’s some plush there just for Shen Yuan’s comfort, so that Shen Yuan doesn’t complain so much when Luo Binghe very politely requests to be used as a pillow!

Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “300 pounds is still 300 pounds. If you expected me to catch you, I’d have better luck surviving your sulking about falling and bruising yourself than I would trying to survive being squished under your weight.”

Unfortunately for Shen Yuan, The Dog is currently being cradled in his arms, so Luo Binghe refuses to hear a single word he says.

“If I just start by leaning my weight onto you -”

“I’ll definitely topple!”

“I lean on you all the time!”

“You pretend to lean on me all the time, you big octopus, but I know you’re keeping most of your weight off of me!”

Luo Binghe scowls. “Yuan-ge should start working out, then. I can cook meals with more protein, too, and -”

“Luo Binghe if you even dare to suggest that I go to the gym just to be able to hold you like a dog -!”

Luo Binghe sulks off to the kitchen. Fine, then - he’s a former emperor, he can do this the sneaky way. He’ll start fattening The Dog up with more food than it’s strictly supposed to eat, and either Shen Yuan will have to get strong enough to pick it up or he’ll stop picking it up. 

Either way, Luo Binghe will win this battle.

[tervaneula]

The last time Leonardo held his brother, his twin, his Donnie, he had felt him grow colder and colder until the body in his arms could have well been made of ice.

This time, he feels the unconcealed, sharp-edged warmth of Donatello's ninpo against his chest, his neck, his arm – Leonardo would laugh from the joy of it if he wasn't crying.

And he doesn’t know how or why he's doubted all this time if Donatello still was with him, because he knows the shape of this energy, knows the warmth it has provided him through sleepless nights in his train car and even during the day, at times, when their emotions have bled through.

He buries his face into Donatello's shoulder and doesn’t let go. This time, he doesn’t have to. Not until he's ready.

This time, his brother will still be here when he does.

–

Here you go, the reward for getting NQK past round two of @rottmntpeepawpolls! Thank you for reuniting Leonardo with his twin ahead of time<3

The context for the ficlet is in repeat until death but if you haven't read it yet, please heed the tags and turn back if you need to. I love you!!!

[orangekittyenergy]

A little smutty ficlet (smutlet? Idk)

Gale x Reader (you - no mention of description or pronouns)

NSFW - 18+, blindfolded Gale, teasing, idk how many words I wrote this on my phone in a flurry

(Don't mind me, had to get a brain worm out so I could focus on my longer fic 😅)

Gale moans softly, his body tensing and wriggling beneath you. He reaches, as if by instinct, to the blindfold that covers his eyes. Quick as ever you grab his hands and force them back down to the bed.

"Tsk. Naughty." You say with a smirk down at him. He can't see you but you know he can hear the mirth in your voice; even if it is to chastise him.

He squirms again.

"I want to see you, my love." He breathes out, his chest heaving.

"In due time." You practically whisper, leaning down to let your breath gaze over his lips. He tilts his chin up, pushing out his lips, searching for a kiss but you have already pulled away.

"Can I touch you at least?" He practically whimpers, his hands clutching desperately at the sheets below your bodies. A smile plays at the corner of his lips; he's enjoying this as much as you are.

"In." You start to crawl backwards and place a kiss on his collar bone. "Due." A light flick of your wet tongue over one of his nipples. "Time." You're practically off him fully and place one final kiss at his navel.

He groans again. This time it's a noise of frustration. Most likely mourning the loss of contact of your warm body pressed against his.

Face to face with his groin, his stiff cock throbs beneath the fabric of his underwear. Whisper light, you trail a finger across it, outlining it with the barest of touches.

He gasps hard and you look up to see his jaw fall open. A wicked smile crosses your face. This was finally payback. All his nights insisting on spending hours between your own thighs, overstimulating you, teasing orgasm after orgasm from your body until you could barely move.

Every time, you said you'd pay him back through your chapped lips. But he would just smiled at you, give you a kiss, and the next time you were naked you fell into the same trap of his.

But Finally. Finally. You had caught him first. Pulling him to the bed and practically forcing him to accept the same devotion he gave to you. Mostly devotion... Maybe a little teasing.

One hand trailing around the upper part of his thigh your other goes back to his erection; softly touching it at first with your palm then more firmly as you slowly rub your hand up and down.

He moans loudly again and you look up to see his hands lift and twitch.

"No touching, remember." You remind him, your voice playfully sharp. He's touched you enough; this was your turn.

He sucks in a sharp gasp of air and lets his hands fall back down.

"I remember." His voice shakes as he answers and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

You give him another stroke of his cloth covered cock as a reward. After a moment of teasing, his pulse pounding beneath your careful hands you gently pull down his underwear down a touch and ease his hardness out. The movement alone, your warm palm finally touching his aching flesh, is enough to bring forth another moan from his lips.

You smile again and let out a satisfied breath, letting him feel it, hot against his skin. You feel his whole body shudder, again, at the barest of your teasing touches. You lick your lips, planting careful kisses along his thighs, working your way closer and closer to your main goal.

"Gods, please." He groans out. "Touch me. Anything."

You haven't even started yet and he was practically begging, panting and quivering from the anticipation alone.

"Since you've been good." You breathe out again and slowly give him a long slow lick with your tongue, from base to tip, before pulling away again to wrap your palm around him instead.

You were in no rush. This was going to be a delightfully long night.

[severepink]

Ancient Adam! My Design and some thoughts I had about situations/his thoughts.

Kind of a ficlet!

Adam felt a deep sense of anger that bordered on resentment when Eve began crying for the small bird he'd managed to shoot with the tool an angel had instructed him to make.

Somehow, his wife just seemed lost, unable to cope with the situation they'd been forced into.

Hunger gnawed within them both, thirst was ever present, but she would waste precious waters on empathy for a singular source of food he'd managed to find and hunt to sustain her ever growing stomach.

New life. That is what the angel had told him. New life that he was expected to propagate and care fore on top of feeding and sustaining himself and his life.

This creature would hardly be enough for Eve, unless he found another creature... Unless he refined this tool given to him, a tool Eve despised, they would die.

The resentment was only held at bay, because he could not afford giving into his anger. A life alone, a life without her, wasn't one he would have any strength at all to live.

-

The smoke from the wood made him more ravenous than he thought. He'd managed to find another animal, a much, much larger animal with horns and muscle.

He'd managed to strike it perfectly, the feather's he'd added to the end of the arrow made it fly just as the bird had.

Eve was better at breaking the animals he hunted down. He enjoyed resting, after a long hunt, and watching her delicate, intricate fingers work through the flesh and sinew with the knapped rock he'd created for this purpose.

She'd come a long way. It pained him, knowing she desensitized herself, the innocent care she'd had for the animals they'd once been so like, masked and hidden as they tried to survive. While he was gone, she attempted to forage. They continued moving further and further into lands that had green, not the same kind of green as Eden had, but green enough to sustain more creatures. More water too. She'd said she watched the animals to know what could be safe, but also rubbed the flowers, bark, and roots she found on her skin just to be sure when she tasted them to find something edible.

Some of the green she found, she added to the meats he'd caught. The scent, the taste, it was all compounded. As he sat there, his mouth rested against the bow. He gnawed at it, his stomach gurgling and growling, ever persistent in its hunger, only made worse by the long and arduous task of tracking and hauling an animal back to her. The latent energy and nervousness that came from their starvation made him huff out at the same time he plucked the string of his bow. He jumped at the vibration that touched his teeth and echoed out of his mouth, his honey brown eyes widen in shock. The noise alerts Eve, who seems panicked, before he plucks experimentally again. A mischievous smile crosses his face.

-

The blood on his hands reminded him of the first time Eve gave birth. It reminded him of the wound's he'd experienced when being attacked by the lions that prowled after the same prey he needed. Sometimes he could not look away from the blood, how it reflected in his mind, that shining, gleaming apple that'd torn him from his perfect home. The same, glistening, shining red that ever reminded him that he would die. Every death of every creature he hauled back to Eve desensitized him more and more. It was beginning to become fun, hunting these creatures down. Rewarding to wrap his beautiful, perfect, precious family within the hides of these terrible, fascinating beasts. Eve looked beautiful, the leathers she stitched hugged her curves and incited the ordained directive within his loins. He wished to see her grow large. Her stomach, her hips, her thighs. There should be more meat on her bones, more children inside of her, more milk in her breasts. More, more, more.

That would require more of him. More of them both. To sustain more mouth's to feed, he couldn't do it just by his bow alone. He also couldn't do it when Cain cried loudly into the night. The sound often attracted predators, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Still he staid alert, bow in hand while his boy cried and his wife fretted. Eve had found a crop of small seeds that she harvested many of and ground up into a paste to layout before the fire. She'd done this a time or two, mixing it with her herbs. It tasted delicious, especially when paired with the animal fat. His stomach roared almost as loud as a lion, but he focused on looking at his wife while she rocked and tutted his son. She hummed some soft tune, she named them Lilith-Bai's, much to his distaste, anger, and dismay. He complained plenty, but she persisted, claiming it would scare off his ex-Wife and her fiendish, fallen angel Lucifer, protecting their son. A chord of spite was struck in him, as she sang to quiet their son. Lilith-Bai. He would join Eve, cradling his bow to his mouth and plucked at the string, allowing the vibrations to fall into harmony with his wife's soft singing. The sound echoed into the night and Adam lost himself to the sensation and peace, the noise of his stomach quieting under his focus on creation of sounds. After a while, he realized his son and wife had both gone quiet and a short-lived panic coursed through his heart. "Adam, don't stop playing," His wife admonished him softly from across the fire. His small boy, his tiny son, had his mother's eyes. Those eyes were focused and aware of him. "Cain stopped crying... He likes your noisy bow... It seems it's good for more than just murder," No matter how tired he was. No matter how much he anguished mentally at the loss of his original home. No matter his loss of peace. No matter the shame and embarrassment he felt. The pride that was stoked in his heart from seeing his small family, made every sacrifice worth it. They made living a life outside of paradise worth it.

[eddiegettingshot]

🍎 for the fic thing. In the spirit of domesticverse autumn

🍎 apple & pumpkin picking / future spec

a little stupid domesticverse ficlet for u anon :)

“That was pretty hot,” Buck says.

“Okay,” Eddie says, snorting. “I just told you I’m giving you a written reprimand for being late. If you think that’s hot, I’m doing something wrong.”

“Eddie.” Buck gives him a withering look. “It means you’re doing it right, man.”

“Huh,” Eddie says. Yeah, that sort of makes sense, considering what Buck’s frequently into, when it comes to him: measured, compassionate authority, even when it’s undercut with a touch of something mean. Especially then. “Well, let’s hope the brass agrees.”

“That you’re hot?”

“That I’m doing it right.”

Buck’s eyes are so soft and his grin is so proud and wide that his place across the kitchen table—the closest approximation they’ve got to a fire captain’s office desk, setting the scene for the bevy of roleplay scenarios Buck’s been drilling him through as interview prep—strikes Eddie as altogether too far. He walks his fingers over, right into Buck’s palm, which is already upturned in invitation.

“You got this,” Buck says, all patient and fervent like Eddie’s one of his wide-eyed recruits.

“I know.” Because Buck’s got him. “Thanks to you.” He squeezes Buck’s hand, then lets him go and sits back, appraising. “And I appreciate that you dressed the part.”

“Oh.” Buck looks down at himself, seemingly having forgotten that he’s decked out in his actual uniform, complete with his old BUCKLEY nameplate. Eddie thought the dedication was cute, in a ridiculous way, except now there’s a familiar glint in Buck’s eye; his pupils are already blown. “I didn’t put this on to help you prepare.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Nah,” Buck says, shoving away from the table and standing up. “I figured it’d be a—a reward for all your hard work.” His eyelashes flutter. Just a little, just enough that Eddie notices and swallows hard.

“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie says, scrambling to his feet, abandoning written material, practice questions, and a stack of books with titles like Creating and Maintaining a High-Performance Team in favor of Buck’s unabashed smirk, which is far more interesting. “Go get in bed.”

“What happened to servant leadership?” Buck asks. “This actually feels kinda autocratic of you, Ed—”

Eddie slaps his ass hard. The rest of the sentence is lost in an offended yelp.

“This is a dictatorship,” Eddie corrects, but it’s muffled as he crowds up behind Buck, shoving him bodily towards the bedroom, and rakes his teeth into the curve of his neck to feel him shudder. “Just how you like it.”

Buck is weird enough that when he stumbles through the doorway, moaning, Eddie can’t be sure if it’s because of being bitten or because of the stupid joke or because their even stupider roleplaying turns him on.

Eddie can’t help it. “I love you,” he says.

“Uh, I don’t think you should say that,” Buck tells him, unimpressed but already sinking to his knees, “as my superior.”

“Seriously? You can suck my dick but I can’t tell you I love you?”

“You’re supposed to be consistent and clear about your expectations,” Buck says. His face is very close to Eddie’s crotch, which is distracting. “Dictators don’t say ‘I love you.’”

“Oh. Okay.” That doesn’t seem like a universal law, but he clears his throat and puts on a hard voice anyway. “Well, get to work, Diaz.”

Buck beams up at him. “Yes, Captain.”

[sufferu]

Okay, so. This is actually a rather big spoiler for No Refunds, so imma need all of you to hush up about this one when it comes to the current main fic ;)

Anyway — here’s the first draft of a very essential upcoming scene, for all those who wish to see it.

No Refunds Ficlet: March Away From Omelas

____

The five Royal Selection Camps met inside City Hall. Crusch Karsten, flanked by Ferris Argyle and Wilhelm van Astrea. Felt, attended by Rachins, Gaston, Camberley, and the Sword Saint himself. Anastasia Hoshin, with her personal knight and the Captain and Vice Captains of the Iron Fang. Priscilla Barielle, who had elected to witness the ensuing spectacle alone. And of course — Lady Emilia herself, with Beatrice, Otto, Garfiel, and the Oni twins all standing by her side. With a singular exception, nobody else was allowed within the building: they were alone.

That singular exception stood in the middle of the room, of whom a decision now had to be made.

“…I didn’t do anything wrong,” Natsuki Subaru said uncertainly. Why were they all looking at him like that? He wanted to take a step back, but managed to resist the urge just barely. “Priestella is saved now, isn’t it? And— we’ve taken care of five Archbishops of Sin.”

He was objectively correct, about both of those things. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, the Battle of Priestella had ended with zero casualties thanks to his contributions. There had been structural damage to the buildings of the city, sure, and there had been injuries here and there — bruises, gashes, broken bones — but nothing that had been lethal, and likely nothing that was going to be permanent. And of the five Sin Archbishops that had attempted to siege the city — one was dead, and the other four had been successfully captured, awaiting transport to the capital of Lugunica. Nothing like this had ever been accomplished in recorded history. In every sense of the word, Subaru had pulled off a miracle.

But in order to do it, he had—

“How many times?” Julius croaked. Subaru glanced his way, and froze at the look of devastation on his face. “Subaru — how many times was it?”

“I—” Subaru broke off. There was a long, long silence as everyone waited for him to answer. “…Does it matter?” he finally retorted. “I think the results speak for themselves, don’t they? Everyone’s safe, and everyone’s happy! Isn’t that the only thing that really matters, in the end?”

Otto made an indecipherable noise. Nobody looked at him.

“You didn’t answer us,” Wilhelm growled. The raw anger in his voice made Subaru stiffen. “How many times was it?”

When Subaru didn’t answer, everyone knew it was because he didn’t know.

“What a boorish question,” Priscilla scoffed. She was the only one there who looked relaxed, fanning her face gently as she peered at the lot of them from the side of the room. “Subaru saw that there was danger and rose to the challenge. If he bled for it in the meanwhile, what does it matter?”

“‘What does it matter?’” Felt repeated, her quiet voice already glittering with the warning sparks of her growing rage. “Big Bro just — killed himself, again and again, for OUR sakes, and — and ‘What does it matter?’”

“For Subaru, the ultimate sacrifice is a thing that he can make as many times as he wishes, as a means to an end,” Priscilla answered. “He can accomplish great things with his ability. He HAS accomplished great things, even. If I were his liege, I would be rewarding him for his accomplishments, not stifling his potential.”

“‘Stifling his potential’?” Felt repeated, disbelief coloring her voice red. “You’d call him — him DYING, again and again — you’d call it POTENTIAL?”

“Has he not allowed you to witness a miracle, peasant?” Priscilla returned. “Through his efforts, he has brought about a solution that would otherwise never have come to fruition. This is a thing to celebrate, is it not?”

“It is absolutely not!” Mimi cried out. “Mimi didn’t want this! Mimi didn’t want to survive because — because someone did THIS for her sake!”

Felt took a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain her composure. “…Subaru,” she said, directing her words towards the focus of the conversation. “Do you really think that winning the fight today was worth — this?”

Subaru stared back at her like she had grown a second head. “Of COURSE it was,” he scoffed, as if it were the obvious answer. “I’m just one person, and — not even a particularly valuable one at that.” From the corner of the room, Otto stared at him with growing despair. He didn’t even notice. “Sure, it — it sucked a lot, but I did it, and now everyone’s fine! So of course it was worth it.”

Felt swallowed, trying her hardest not to scream. She folded her hands in front of her — a practiced motion, one Reinhard had instilled into her through hours and hours of those stupid etiquette lessons. “And…” she faltered. “And you would do it again, if you felt that it was necessary.”

Subaru visibly flinched at the suggestion, but quickly moved to answer her. “O-Of course I would!” he insisted, his eyes darting around. Nearby, Crusch and Reinhard both stared at something that nobody else could see. “I—I AM still a knight, you know. It’s a knight’s JOB to put others before themselves. And…” He swallowed. “I know I’m not good at it, but if I try hard enough — well. My…circumstances…I mean — I’m in the perfect position to put others before me, right?”

“Because you never have to stop doing it,” Julius realized. “Because even if you die — you don’t have to stop.”

Subaru didn’t realize the surge of devastated nausea that such a realization had inspired in the gut of the Finest of Knights. “Exactly!” he crowed. “That’s exactly right! You see?”

Someone made a horrible strangled sound. Nobody knew who it was, and everyone was too focused on the matter at hand to find out, anyway.

“And if we’re not okay with it?” Felt pressed, trying to ignore the hole that was widening in her gut. “If we don’t want any part of — of an exchange like that?”

“…That’s ridiculous,” Subaru scoffed. “Why would anyone not — want to live? That’s stupid.”

“Why indeed,” Ricardo muttered.

“Maybe it’s not that — that someone doesn’t want to live,” Crusch said, her voice tense. “Maybe it’s that someone doesn’t want their life to be saved through…” She shook her head. “Maybe they consider — other things, to be more important.”

“Like what?” Subaru retorted.

“Honor, maybe,” Crusch said. “Ethics. Dignity. Integrity. Any of the things of which a loss would turn a person into a dog. …You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Valuing the alleviation of momentary suffering over a perfect ending is the way of dogs,” Priscilla replied, her eyes glinting. “If momentary suffering is necessary for a perfect ending, then to undergo it for the sake of fulfilling his duty — that is the sign of a wonderful knight.”

“There are limits,” Felt forced out through gritted teeth. “To what level of ‘momentary suffering’ is acceptable. Not that I’d expect YOU to understand that.”

“Lady Felt—”

“Don’t!” Felt snapped. Reinhard stopped. “Just— don’t. Not now.”

“I’d say it’s a perfectly acceptable level of suffering!” Subaru retorted, raising his voice. “I’m the only one who has to go through it, so I’m the one who gets to decide what’s acceptable, right? That’s how it works!”

“No the FUCK it’s not!” Rachins bellowed, taking a step forward. Reinhard quickly grabbed his wrist, preventing him from marching over to punch Subaru in the face. Rachins didn’t even glance back at him, fixated solely on the object of his rage. “You don’t get it make a choice like THAT when you— when you’re planning something THAT HORRIBLE!” he spat. “Who the fuck would be alright with this?! Just one ultimate sacrifice is hard enough to stomach, but — you can’t even tell us how many times it was! How am I supposed to go forward when I know you— YOU—”

“You might have DIED if I didn’t do anything!” Subaru protested. “If it was you or me— even if I had to choose all of you hundreds of times over, then—”

“How was it your place to make that decision for us?!” Anastasia burst out, uncharacteristically emotional. She hadn’t looked this way even back at the inn. “I didn’t want this!” she cried. “I didn’t consent to this! I never wanted to be complicit in something this awful, and here YOU went and made the choice to — to repeatedly sacrifice yourself for all of us regardless! I didn’t WANT you to do this for me!”

“We weren’t able to do anything,” Ferris managed, white as a sheet. He was gripping his head. “We weren’t able to stop nyew at all. And nyew didn’t stop nyerself, either: the first thing nyew decided to do when the Witch Cult attacked was…” Ferris fixed his gaze on Subaru, glassy with panic and devastation. “So long as nyer a knight, and protecting the country is nyer job— we won’t be able to stop nyew at— at all—”

“Oh like that’s any different than what Reinhard is doing,” Subaru retorted. “What, so him being unstoppable in his role as a Sword Saint is fine, but me using my own ability to act as a knight is crossing a line? How is THAT fair?”

Reinhard flinched violently, taking a step backwards.

“How DARE you make a comparison like that?!” Felt spat, finally snapping and raising her voice to a roar. “HOW DARE YOU?! You wanna know what the difference is, Subaru?! Reinhard being the Sword Saint doesn’t mean we’re all dooming him to fucking KILL HIMSELF for our sakes!”

“I can’t believe you would even SUGGEST such a thing,” Julius snarled, uncharacteristically vicious. “The role of the Sword Saint is a heavy one, yes, but it isn’t in any way the same thing as someone sentencing himself to execution after execution for the rest of —” Could Subaru die a natural death? He didn’t even want to THINK about the concept of an eternity trapped in a fate like this. “— of his natural life! You absolute— how could you even consider—?!”

Reinhard was not allowed to wish for his role as the Sword Saint to be taken away from him. Wishing for for such a thing was as good as poisoning his mind against the kingdom itself. In any case, nobody could ever strip him of his title even if they wanted to: nobody was more suited to the role of the Sword of the Kingdom than Reinhard van Astrea.

But now, he realized with a bolt of absolute clarity— now he was on the outside, looking in. Subaru wasn’t wrong about his curse positioning him in a manner that made him uniquely suited for the role of a knight. But if they allowed him to take that position up once again—

Reinhard thought of himself, and how he was never going to escape his title. He thought of Subaru, who was inches away from thrusting himself into the same position. He thought of an old story about his grandmother and grandfather, and how — just once — a Sword Saint had been set free.

“Subaru—” He tried to say, stepping forward, but Wilhelm held out his arm before anyone else could see what he was doing. Reinhard glanced his way, and saw ice blue eyes glimmering with the conviction of tempered steel.

—Reinhard understood. He stepped back to where he had been a second before.

…He likely wouldn’t have been allowed to be the one to do so anyway. Reinhard van Astrea could not act against the good of the kingdom, no matter who got hurt in the process.

Julius was still speaking. “How do you not understand?!” he shouted, his eyes blazing. “You seem to be thinking of this as— as some sort of— you just don’t get it, do you?! Do you have any idea how—” Horrified. Disgusted. Devastated. Mortified. “—how ANGRY we are with you right now?”

“I mean, I’d probably do it anyway!” Subaru pointed out, folding his arms stubbornly. “Whether I have the title or not, I’m always gonna want to help the people around me, right? You can’t stop me from doing THAT.”

The temperature of the room dropped significantly. Subaru’s eyes widened, his arms springing up to wrap around his chest at the sudden chill. A couple of pairs of eyes flickered to Emilia, who sat motionless in her seat.

“…For nyer own sake,” Ferris hissed, one of those in the room that was utterly unaffected by this cold air. He looked very much like he wanted to murder Subaru on the spot. “I am going to assume that was nyer misguided attempt at cracking a JOKE. But on the off-chance that nyew were being serious, I can assure nyew: we have ways of keeping people alive against their will if nyeed be.” He grinned, his face so sour it looked like it might curdle milk. “Nyew’ve seen me deal with suicidal Witch Cult prisonyers, Subaru-kyun. Do nyew think I’m above treating nyew the way I treated them?”

Subaru took a step back.

“Ignoring the absolutely disgusting moral implications of what you just suggested you planned on doing to yourself for the rest of your life,” Julius said coldly, eyes fixed on Subaru’s face. “You do realize that you just threatened ALL OF US, by saying that you would use time travel to bend reality to your heart’s content regardless of how we feel about it — do you not?” Subaru flinched. “I assumed you were better than that.” Julius rolled his shoulder. “But Ferris is right: if you are NOT better than that, then we can find a way to make sure we don’t have to worry about you deciding to reverse time behind everyone’s backs.”

“The lot of you are being ridiculous,” Priscilla scoffed. “Your wonderful knight saved an entire city almost single-handedly, and you wish to remove him from his post? Sacrifice is a part of life. If you can’t stomach the sacrifice necessary to feed the fire of life, then you are unfit to stand in the light of mine gaze.”

“There’s a fucking limit to the kind of sacrifices a reasonable person should accept!” Felt shot back. “Not like you’d understand a thing about being reasonable, you— you MONSTER. How can you talk about someone ripping himself apart so flippantly?!”

“If ripping oneself apart is what a person wishes to do, then I shall not stand in their way.” She smiled. “Just as there is beauty in war, there is beauty in sacrifice — or in this case, the dance of eternal sacrifice, in service of the greater good.” The Sun Princess frowned down at Felt, who was staring at her with a look of horrified disbelief. “It is not Subaru’s fault if a peasant like you cannot handle how he chooses to live and die,” she said coldly. “If he has made his choice, then he has made it so.”

“That’s vile…” Felt choked out. “Even for you, that is VILE.”

“Personal autonomy has limits,” Crusch said coldly. “If a man’s personal autonomy involves harming others, then he must be stopped. Likewise, if it involves him ripping himself apart, then we have a moral duty to stand in his way. — Especially if he has the gall to declare that it is for OUR sakes.”

“As a knight of Lugunica, I understand the nobility of sacrifice,” Julius said. He did not flinch as Priscilla turned to watch him, nor did he look her in the eye. “But as a knight, I understand the weight of it, as well. Giving up one’s life for a cause is one of the heaviest sacrifices one can make — and it is exactly because of that, that I cannot stand for someone who plans to make that sacrifice so many times in repetition.” He turned to face Subaru, alone in the center of the room, and took a deep breath. “In saving Priestella from the Witch Cult, Natsuki Subaru has fulfilled his duty as a knight once and for all,” Julius declared. “He has made the ultimate sacrifice, and he has done so — many, many times over. Allowing him to continue to do so for the sake of this country would damage the worth of the entire nation, and I refuse to stand for it. That’s all I have to say.”

“I stand by my knight,” Anastasia announced, stepping forward. “We are not animals, and I refuse to live as an animal by depending on someone to harm themselves for me in perpetuity — and I refuse to allow my country to do such a thing, either. And I am no longer willing to wait two years for a decision to be made: Natsuki Subaru will be removed from his role today, or the Anastasia Camp will consider him and all of his allies its enemy.”

“The Iron Fang stands with its employer,” Ricardo added, his voice like steel. “But even without its relationship with the Anastasia Camp, I would never stand for something this disgusting, nor would any organization that I lead. And—” He shook his head, looking very much like he wanted to strangle someone. “And I’d HOPE that if — those who I care about — were thrown into a situation — like THIS — that the people they meet would have the basic decency to refuse the same.”

“Mimi hates this,” the eldest of the Pearlbaton triplets forced out, uncharacteristically enraged. She was scratching at the top of her head, yanking at her orange hair. “Mimi hates everything about this. How dare— how DARE you—”

“We want nothing to do with an arrangement like this,” Hetaro confirmed. “I don’t want to be saved by someone doing — this. It’s sick. I’d rather just die.”

“I don’t want to die,” Tivey muttered. “But if I were to live a life dependent on something like — THIS, I’d be no better than vermin. And I don’t want anyone forcing me into that role, either. We stand with our Lady.”

“The three of us might be vermin,” Rachins growled. “But even WE are above depending on an eternal living corpse for our lives and livelihoods. You can fuck right off with that, Subaru.”

“I wouldn’t call us vermin—” Camberley objected.

“All the more reason, then,” Gaston said firmly. “None of us are gonna accept something this — gross. Ever.”

“I agree with those idiots,” Felt snarled, stepping forward defiantly. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about ‘the greater good’: this is vile, and I would be utter scum if I rolled over and let things continue like this. Thank you for your service, Big Bro: now fuck ALL THE WAY off with this Unsung Hero bullshit.”

“My role as the Sword Saint is a duty granted to me by Od Laguna,” Reinhard managed, both outraged and devastated beyond words by the comparison. “It is a burden that I would not wish upon anyone, but the sole grace of my role is that I have been granted it specifically because my capabilities allow me to fulfill it without — undue sacrifice. For you to try and take something like it upon yourself through the use of a curse this vile…” He shook his head. “I will stand with whatever Lady Felt decides,” the Sword Saint said. “As she is against — everything about this — so am I.”

“Disgusting,” Ferris hissed, bristling. There were tears in his eyes. He shook his head, muttering the same word over and over again. “Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting — Nyatsuki Subaru, I hate nyew so, so much—!”

“To keep Natsuki Subaru as a knight after this would be considered the height of indecency,” Crusch declared. “That is where I stand, as do my Camp and my Estate. Lady Emilia, I must insist that you remove him from his position NOW, or I will render our alliance null and void. That is my ultimatum.”

“This— This really feels like an overreaction!” Subaru stammered, backing away from the sea of anger and devastation. “Didn’t everything work out alright, in the end? Wasn’t it worth it? One life in exchange for all of Priestella—”

“It wasn’t just one life, Subaru,” Ricardo spat. “It was one person, over and over again, who decided all on his own that we were the kinds of ANIMALS that would be absolutely fine resting our lives on — on a fucking monstrosity like that!“

“We didn’t even get a CHOICE in the matter,” Ferris cried. “Nyone of us did. “Nyew just went ahead and decided for nyerself that we’d all prefer this — this utter BULLSHIT.“

“Do you not get what an embarrassment this is?” Julius snapped. “For someone to have stepped in and decided on their own that they’re going to take all the suffering of — of the Royal Selection Camps, of the White Scales of Priestella, of EVERYONE who might have otherwise decided to fight back on their own accord — for them to have stolen that choice away and forced everyone else to accept not just one singular sacrifice, but a string of sacrifices so long that you haven’t even been able to tell us how many deaths make it up! It’s a humiliation of the highest order, because you just forced ALL OF US to be complacent in one of the most monstrous, inhuman scenarios I can imagine.“

“Fuck nyew,” Ferris breathed, looking like he was on the verge of passing out. “Fuck nyew, Subaru. Fuck nyew, fuck nyew, fuck nyew—”

“I really don’t think—!”

“How would you have felt,” Felt interrupted. “If Big Sis had done all of this on your behalf?” Subaru froze. She grinned at him, all teeth and no joy behind her smile. “You’d fucking hate it, right?” she asked cheerfully. “You’d scream, and you’d probably cry. You might even throw up, you’d feel so awful. And if she turned to you and said ‘But I gave you a miracle, aren’t you proud of me?’ I’ll bet you’d want to scream at her for it, too.” She leaned forward. “How DARE you do that to us.” Felt hissed. “How fucking dare you.”

“And to think!” Anastasia laughed. It was a venomous, bitter sound that made Subaru want to recoil. “To think, I actually was starting to believe the others’ insistence that you could be trusted to man your post responsibly!” She stared at him, eyes hard. “I was right about this whole situation from the start. Keeping you as a knight was a ridiculous notion, because — THIS — was always going to be the outcome, one way or another.”

Subaru was speechless. Slowly, with jerky movements, he twisted around to the one camp that had yet to make its final assertion.

“G-Guys…?” he managed.

“Cap—” Garfiel hesitated, and then shook his head. Subaru visibly wilted. “Natsuki Subaru can’t be a knight anymore,” he declared. “This is horrible. I didn’t want this. I never wanted anything like this. If I let him do this for — for MY sake, how could I ever look myself in the mirror again? …And I don’t think he’s ever gonna stop unless we force him away from the edge.”

“This is the absolute worst thing you could have done to me, Subaru,” Ram snapped. “I don’t know how you don’t understand that. I don’t WANT to persist via your acts of self-harm: I’m perfectly happy to live to the best of my ability and accept my death when my time has come to an end. A life of dignity is one that I desire most of all. —And here you are, planning to force me to rely on your trail of self-destruction for the rest of my natural life? That’s a vulgarity beyond words.”

“I really thought you had learned,” Otto muttered. His face was buried in his hands. “I really, really thought you had learned, Subaru.”

Despair slowly dawned across the face of the self-proclaimed knight.

“The old me might have allowed for this,” Rem admitted. Her voice was quiet and broken. “I am not that woman anymore. I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

“Betty doesn’t want her contractor to become a living corpse, I suppose,” Beatrice said quietly. “Betty wants you to be happy, but that also means that she doesn’t want you to destroy yourself. You can hate me for this if you want, Subaru. But I can’t let you — I can’t let you do this.”

Subaru stared at all of them, his upper lip wobbling, and then his eyes flitted to the last person in the room, the one who had not said a single thing since they had entered the building.

Emilia could not bring herself to voice the words, but her silence spoke a thousand in its stead. Subaru made a horrible croaking noise, wide-eyed and devastated.

Wilhelm had to force himself to speak, but when he did, his voice came out loud and clear and true.

“Natsuki Subaru.”

Subaru could no longer be a knight. For him to continue being a knight would be for him to continue to sacrifice himself for the sakes of those around him, over and over again, without regard for whether they wanted him to do so or not. For him to remain a knight would be for the kingdom to approve this cycle of endless self-destruction, so that it could profit off of his pain until the day it finally sucked him dry. —And this could no longer be a decision that waited a year, a month, a day, but rather a move that had to be made as quickly and decisively as possible.

Lady Emilia had already realized what Wilhelm was about to do. Her eyes were glassy and dull, but she bowed her head in assent when he briefly caught her gaze. Do what you must.

For his own good, Subaru could no longer be a knight. However, Emilia firing him after just a year of service would leave a black mark on his record that could last until the end of his life. And with him having saved the Watergate City nearly single-handedly, for him to willingly abandon his duty now would paint him as a fickle, untrustworthy coward for the rest of his life. Titles brought with them expectations and responsibilities, and great deeds even more so. Subaru had somehow entangled him in a web of both that threatened to trap him as the nation’s self-replenishing sacrifice for — in a worst-case scenario, perhaps for the rest of eternity.

“W-Wilhelm?” Subaru whimpered, his voice high-pitched and uncertain.

But there was a way to retire him that would not impact his reputation, or hamper him from pursuing any other future career path he may choose, or even leave him with the majority of the blame. It was the same way that, many years ago, a young man on a mission had set free the woman who would become his wife.

Subaru would hate him for this until the old man’s dying day, and perhaps even beyond that. But Wilhelm loved him, and that meant he valued the quality of the boy’s life more than he ever could his personal reputation in his eyes.

Priscilla realized what the Sword Demon was about to do moments before he opened his mouth again. She sighed, snapping her ruby red fan shut. The sound echoed through the room like a thunderclap.

“Natsuki Subaru,” Wilhelm Van Astrea declared. “Due to finding you unworthy to serve our nation as a knight of the Kingdom, I challenge you to a duel.”

*

Wilhelm had challenged Subaru to a duel over his position as a knight of the Kingdom. Subaru’s liege, Lady Emilia, had consented to such terms. If Subaru were to win, he would be allowed to remain where he was. If Wilhelm were to win, then Subaru would be forced to retire from his post — and in the eyes of the public, all the blame for his removal would rest squarely on Wilhelm’s shoulders.

Subaru, Wilhelm, and everyone witnessing the event knew what the outcome was going to be.

“What are you doing?!” an old lady cried from the stands. “What are you DOING?! He saved us — he saved all of our lives! Stop, STOP—!!”

“Natsuki Subaru-dono is a hero!” shouted a young man, hands clenching the rails. “Why are you doing this?! What did he do wrong?! He didn’t do ANYTHING, just LET HIM—!!”

“Wilhelm—” Subaru tried to plead, one last time.

Wilhelm met his gaze with one fierce enough to burn. “This is for your own good.”

Subaru swallowed, and raised his whip.

It only took three hits. The first smacked the handle of Subaru’s weapon with the flat of the blade, knocking it out of his hands and into the air, where it spiraled in an arc. The second whacked Subaru on the top of his head, stunning him hard enough to make him lose his balance. The third took advantage of this wrong-footedness by slamming into his chest, knocking him down on his back. Then the weight of the man’s knee settled against his chest, pinning him to the ground, with the edge of the blade grazing against his throat. And that was that.

“The winner,” Ferris announced, his voice muffled in Subaru’s ears. “Is Wilhelm van Astrea.”

It had not even lasted a full ten seconds. Those who watched would later describe it as Wilhelm scruffing him, much like one would a misbehaving puppy. Even the way he had pinned him to the ground had been careful, less like an actual fight and more like a sparring session between parent and child.

It was a duel far gentler and kinder than his previous with Julius. But the results were far graver in his eyes, for he had been successfully stripped of his title as a knight and reduced to simply being Natsuki Subaru.

[harzilla]

Honestly can I admit I've been sitting on writing a full God!Yuu fic? I keep trying to turn game mechanics into God skills. I just wanna throw this out there. Sorta a ficlet? It's mostly my kind of stream of thoughts.

Imagine the guys are absolutely clueless that the "magicless" human is a god. Like a trickster god and whatever little thing that follows their amusement and they notice a weird little blip of magic one day and decides to follow where it leads.

they immediately shift into a vessel that fits the world and when Grim busts open the coffin the god realizes it's his magic they noticed. Oh? Interesting....

The dark mirror can't read their soul because the mirror is tuned into the souls of those born in Twisted Wonderland. The body? Yes. Their actual being? No. So for the first time the mirror calls a colorless empty soul since it's creation.

The god soon realizes they're in a school of humanoid mages and they can sense the different flows of magic from everybody. Allowing them to be able easily analyze what kind of magic it is, ties into the world/nature(aero, water, fire) and emotions(void/light)the self.

Our God realizes that things could get boring fast if they push their powers around and they decide to handicap themselves by only using intentional power to prevent somebody from dying. They're not particularly interested in seeing a bunch of kids die. Mortal lives are fleeting but full of fascinating things.

It turns out that Twisted Wonderland is very interesting if you're willing to see where things lead. But, they can still interfere if they do it within the limitations of a magicless mortal, right?

They also can also pick up on the emotions of mortals and the drips of blot they see are literal buildup of negative emotions starting to manifest in a physical world, very nasty little thing. But only they can see it at this point. They stick by Ace and Deuce because they know that the two will lead them to Riddle. The only one dripping blot at this point within their line of sense. They work with Ace and Deuce, so it's only natural they follow because they helped make the tart, right? They know they can only allow the overblot to happen because they limited their powers but the rancid magic wafting off Riddle makes them unhappy. Diving into Riddle's mind they gently pull through his memories and pull the threads of his thoughts in the right direction. Weakening the link to the overblot and allows Riddle's own mind to push forward and ask the question he needed to hear. This Allows Riddle to hit a breakthrough the overwhelmingly destructive negative feelings. It severes the link to the overblot completely, killing the overblot and allowing Riddle to live.

Riddle awakens and now our God slips back into the magicless human act. They know something is off and they're going to follow along because they want to see just what is causing the world to flow in the direction it's going.

The sticker system is them giving the guys blessing. Our God likes interesting things and the entire rewardable cast is their kind of fun. These stickers kind of create a pavlova effect where they feel positive energy/feelings when around the prefect. The emotions trigger the blessings they received that it boosts their magic. Thus the higher the friendship the higher the magic output

Honey? Candies? All the treats? More blessings. Increased lessons is the god blessing them with more lessons by tweaking the flow of time. They can't perceive the change unless the god wants them to.

They enjoy learning new things about everybody and seeing their progress. They like studying the different dynamics between everybody and are always curious about what's running through their head. A bunch of hormonal teenagers with way to much power at their fingertips always attracts trouble. But also they find them all endearing in their own weird ways.

Of course our god sometimes creates it's own trouble, oh my it seems the tsums felt the gods power somehow and they showed up at specifically Ramshackle? oh my how odd? The God permits it because, well it's interesting and the tsums are harmless if not as chaotic as their counterparts. Just the right kind of mischief they're looking for. Of course maybe our god might have felt a tiny bit bored, saw this adorable magical creatures by staring out into the infinite void of space, magic, and existence and was all "Visit this world please? 🥺"

I just have so many ideas for this I honestly feel like I should try to make a long fic of this idea. But I just want you to think about the absolute crisis all of them go through when they're revealed to be a god that has just let the guys do everything that has happened throughout the entire plot and events because they're amused?

But oh what fun they can have now! Now that they can mess with the guys openly. Only the ones they permit can tell anything is happening.

Pay backs fun now isn't it?