#friends keep responding to it with “any hole's a goal”

[pestos-cafe]

Big wall big wall big wall

[salemoleander]

BigB brings a pickaxe down against the soft limestone. It's not dirt, or loam, or even sand, but it makes him think of a burrow. Something safe to hide in.

He knows he's acting strangely, knows the others didn't all beeline to complete their tasks. But the second he opened that letter anxiety wound up his spine, like seaweed ready to pull him under. So, y'know. Might as well deal with it now? He keeps digging.

Digging and saying hi to Scar and being mean to Scar so he leaves and digging and digging. The prickling fear under his skin only abates once he's well underground, in the coolness. Not 'all the way down' yet, but the tension in chest eases.

Finally, some measure of peace. BigB supposes the 'and quiet' has been there the whole time, and he laughs quietly at his own joke. Leans against the wall at the bottom of the pit to rest. He's tired and achy and a tiny bit mad. Of course his task would make him miss out on the chance for allies. Well, maybe if he keeps–

A ghostly hand swats past his head, nails sharp and flesh see-through.

BigB whips to the side, looks around, again, again, and sees nothing. Just faint dust motes and occasional grains of sand falling from above.

It's not even cold? Or whatever ghosts are supposed to make happen, he's not sure.

Sighing, BigB says, "If you're here to kill me, can you at least make it entertaining, man? This task sucks."

His voice bounces and echoes strangely off the stone around him. Nothing responds.

He gives a forced laugh, lowers his head, and keeps digging.

His peace is interrupted not too many minutes later, after he's clambered back to the top to gather more wood for picks. BigB hears footsteps, and then Grian slides the last few blocks down an incline of sand into the cave.

Grian grins at him. BigB smiles back, slow and easy. Last game they'd ended allies, and that has helped a lot to loosen tensions. Still not interested in a day 1 alliance, though. Doubt submerged in friendliness, he greets Grian and asks what he's up to.

"Just bouncing around! Day 1, you know how it is." Grian seems energized, a bit furtive– normal Grian stuff. He looks past BigB, and an indent appears between his eyebrows. "Uh, what's with the hole, B?"

He has a defensive answer lined up, something circuitous and confusing about Jimmy and broken mineshaft generation and new stripmining techniques. Can't let anyone know your secret, after all; even if Grian's sly smile indicates he's probably just going to joke a bit and let it go.

Instead, BigB opens his mouth, and the words that crawl out are, "I don't know, G, where do the tasks come from?"

It's not a question that makes sense, not really. The tasks don't have to come from anywhere! BigB may just be overthinking it, or underthinking it, or something. And he shouldn't have even said that, because it might be giving away his task. Why did he say that?

There's a fire behind the words, anger that scrapes and burns on its way out. He's not sure why that's there either.

Color high on his cheeks, Grian says, "I'm not sure, er– not sure, yeah."

BigB knows he's lying. To be fair, he thinks most people could tell Grian was lying– he's not very good at doing it on the spot.

The smells of acrid smoke and dirt and sea-salt are there and then gone. His hand tremors; he tucks it through a belt loop.

Tasks don't have to come from anywhere, except these aren't just tasks: they're secrets. This game would be called Task Life, or Goal Life, or something, if that was the important thing. He knows how careful Grian is with his words (words like safe and soulmate and mine, all used to very particular definitions).

BigB is familiar with what being one of Grian's secrets feels like. The letter in his pocket feels like a friend. He decides not to ask any more questions, because he's not sure what will come out.

"Okay, just gonna cook some fish, and then I'll be out of your hair." Grian steps past him and hunkers down in front of the furnace. BigB feels a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He looks away.

When he looks back, he startles. Scar is right next to Grian, looming by his side.

Except this isn't Scar as he'd seen him earlier, standing around in a circle. BigB locks eyes with this other Scar, his eyes beady-bright crimson and set into a face wrapped in bandages. His hooded cloak is purple and embroidered, threads hanging ragged at the edges. The fabric around his neck is dark.

Slowly, movements jerky, Scar holds up a single bony finger in front of his mouth.

BigB's eyes flick down to Grian's back- does he not notice, in his periphery? Is he just ignoring this? Should he say something?

When he looks back up, the spectre is gone.

Standing in uncharacteristic silence, he awkwardly waits for Grian to collect the rest of his fish. Grian, happy to cause problems on purpose but allergic to tension he isn't the cause of, quickly folds and grabs the remaining fish with an "I'll get out of your hair, then."

They shuffle together to the entrance of the cave; he really needs to get some doors going in here.

Grian turns and fixes a stare just to his side, for a moment. BigB ignores it, and finally manages to shoo Grian off. He doesn't want to know who's haunting him.

Sighing, he shifts a pick into his hand and gets back to work. BigB finishes the task quickly after that, because when he pays attention the fear guides him. This task isn't about digging deep - it's about being hunted, about burrowing, tunneling.

He finishes it and turns in the quest book, receives his rewards. Resolutely, he does not look at the spectres trailing after his friends. It's fine if he just doesn't look, right? Yeah.

The rest of the session passes in a blur. At the end, trying to hang back and keep his eyes on the middle of the statue rather than any ghosts that may or may not exist, he hears Grian share his task.

Jokes no one would laugh at. Of course.

He idly considers a task based on his experiences in the last series. Something furtive and spy-based would be fun. Maybe something frog themed?

He does not think about what secrets his lives in the other games would want to share. Those seem like a late-game thing, anyways.

[vinnytotherescue]

What makes us human (lies of p x female reader)

What is it that makes us human?

            Is it our heart, pumping warm red liquid into our bodies to keep us alive one more day? Is it our lungs feeding us oxygen and pushing our chest to move in an ongoing life-long choreography? Or is it our brain controlling our body, organs, and mind enough to answer this question? Is it maybe something simpler? Like the warmth we exude by simply existing or our curious eyes moving around ready to capture a new memory.

            Unfortunately, there is never one answer to this question since every human has a different view on this topic. A doctor would agree that a beating muscle is enough, but a philosopher would argue that there is more to being human than a single organ.

            Responding to this question becomes an even bigger hassle when said person is no human but a highly intelligent puppet. From the moment Pinocchio was created his very first goal was to become human, whatever that meant. But as time went on he began searching what it really suggests. The more he investigated the more conflicted he got with the inconclusive answers and their variety. His second solution to his problem was posing this question to the residents of Hotel Krat, an even bigger hassle as he later noted. Antonia was the first victim of his complicated question and the least helpful.

“What makes us human? Oh, my dear sweet boy, that’s a difficult question, isn’t it? It could be anything really, from having working organs to being able to feel”

            Next was Lady Sophia, his presumed advisor through his long and tiring journey of fighting and killing automatons around Krat. Her answer was better but not exactly what Pinocchio hoped for.

“Being human is such a peculiar concept. We are able to react to situations and feel different emotions like anger, joy, and love. If you meant physically now, we are given organs and whole systems that make us operate. But when you think about it, we are not that different from puppets. Are we? I mean you do have operating systems maybe not  as complicated as our own but the thing you lack is proper emotion”

            As Pinocchio grew closer to becoming human, he did have the opportunity to feel certain emotions, but never the ones he heard about. The feeling of anger and dread was not what popped into his mind when he thought of being human. What he longed for was joy, happiness, and most importantly love. Would he ever be able to feel love?

            That’s when you came into the picture. A young woman trying to escape this hell hole named Krat. It was only supposed to be a two-day trip to the city to meet some friends when that turned into a full-blown nightmare. How she managed to survive that long was a question in itself since she had no weapons and skills to properly use any. Simply hiding in boutiques and abandoned apartments was her way of surviving. Leaving the city of course was out of the question since she was evidently lost.

             Gemini was the first to notice her hiding in a cabinet as they ventured into another seemingly empty apartment. Unfortunately for her, the noise that came out of her mouth as a piece of glass fell on her foot was not subtle but thank god it wasn’t a normal automaton that found her.

            Pinocchio slowly walked toward the source of the sound and when he stood outside of the cabinet, he simply tugged it open. A kick to the face was not what he expected to say the least. Stumbling back, he was quick to compose himself and grab her arm as she desperately tried to escape his iron grip. Her kicking and punching immediately stopped when she heard his soft velvety voice next to her ear. Her eyes widened and her head snapped to look at her captor or maybe her savior. His eyes were bluer than the summer sky and the freckles adorning his pale face resembled all sorts of constellations.

Reassurance filled her chest for once in those long two weeks as she stared at the seemingly human person behind her.

“It’s ok I got you”.

            Pinocchio felt the need to bring her to the hotel since she was the first living human he managed to find “roaming’ the streets. That happened a few months ago and since then the puppet’s interest never left. He would always inspect her, her humanity. The way she moved as if dancing when trying to decide which book to read, the way she bit her lip when she was thinking, or the wide smile she would give to the cat every time she crossed paths with her. What made her so human?

            What made him wonder though was the peculiar warmth he felt in his chest each time he was close to her. After every trip to Krat, he felt a small change in him, giving him hope that he was becoming more and more human. But the feeling that deeply resided in his chest was still a question left unanswered. Could he feel something? But he is still a puppet, of course, he had a fair share of human traits as time moved on but was having emotions one of them? Talking of questions, he never got to ask her the one that posed to the rest of the Hotel Krat residents. What made them human, what would make him human?

            It was nearly midnight in the hotel and (y/n) was immersed in a book she got from the library a while ago. She lay on the couch her eyes scanning the yellowing pages without a care in the world around her, and the boy that entered the dimly lit room. He moved toward her making his footsteps purposely louder as if not to scare her. Her eyes though stayed put on the letter-filled pages.  P walked until he was in her field of vision, maybe a little closer than what she anticipated. His face was right next to her as he bent down to take a look at the book she was reading. The moment her head snapped to the left she came face to face with her crush.

            “P-Pinocchio t-too close!” her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she tried to put some distance between them, to her disappointment. Pinocchio only stared in confusion.

            “Sorry did I scare you?” he slowly moved to sit next to the shrieking girl on the couch patiently waiting for her response.

            “No of course not” she tried to put her brave face on, but his piercing blue eyes only made her more vulnerable “I was just surprised to see you that close that’s it” folding her arms over her chest and putting the book to the side she tried to focus on P’s face. There was always a look of confusion on it that she found adorable, but she would never say that out loud.

“Can I help you with something P?” her voice was soft once again and brought that warm feeling back into his chest. P examined her face and tilted his head.

“Can I ask you a question?” (y/n) was taken aback for a moment but managed to compose herself quite fast.

            “Yes of course P, what is it” The way his name rolled off her tongue so effortlessly hypnotized Pinocchio. It was like a siren was calling his name.

            “What makes someone a human?” (y/n) certainly did not expect a question like that late at night. He searched his eyes for some sign that maybe he learned how to joke but nothing. They just sone bright with curiosity as he awaited her response.

            “Well, that’s a difficult question P you know that right?” his eyes suddenly turned sad as he turned to look at the fireplace. Her heart broke the moment she saw that, and she was quick to come back.

            “But if you really need to know I will tell you what I think” A small smile took place on his lips as he nodded his head vigorously.

The girl held her chin between her fingers her eyebrows scrunched up as she tried to figure out how to proceed. What made them human? She never really thought about that before.  

            “Well, I don’t know for sure, to be honest. To me, a human is not someone with blood coursing through their body or someone who needs to breathe air. Of course, you may think that’s important but what makes us human is how we act. People whom we learned to call humans many times have done things that only a monster would do. To me, these are not humans. Humans are kind people who help others. People who would care about someone in need. People who will not hesitate to provide help. Their curiosity and their positive active stance in life are what makes them human”.

            P’s eyes were so focused on her, and a look of admiration found its place on his face. Knowing immediately what the next question would be as she saw his mouth open, she responded.

            “And yes Pinocchio, to me you are human. You did everything a human would do. I don’t care whether your heart is metal or soft, whether you breathe or not, you have shown me all kindness and showed many emotions that other humans haven’t.”            The warmth in the puppet’s chest got stronger and stronger. Him? A human? His metal heart was filled with something he could not explain but he loved it. His smile grew wider and before he could control his body his arms were tightly wrapped around her. (Y/n) came out of her trance in mere seconds as she felt his cold body on hers. Her cheeks burned red and her heart beat like crazy. She tried to keep her body under control so that he didn’t notice but to no avail. Pulling away from her hope returned to his eyes.

            “That means that you can answer my other question as well!” before she could get the chance to interfere, he started talking.

            “There is always when I’m around you this warmth in my chest that won't disappear. It’s so strong and I want to be close to you to feel it more and more” (y/n)’s eyes widened in shock as she stared into his cerulean eyes.

            “You mean love?” her heart was beating so loud that it was hurting her ears. Pinocchio had found out about love in all the books that he read but he never thought that he would be able to experience this as a puppet. Maybe he was closer to becoming human after all.

            “I love you?” that came like a question at the beginning “I love you”. P locked eyes with her and waited patiently for her reaction like a lost puppy. The realization hit the girl like a brick and time stopped for a while. A while that made P think that he said something wrong.

            “Did I say something wrong” His metal heart seemed to stop for a minute. For once in his life, he felt lost. The girl suddenly jumped in his arms sending him right down on the couch. Her smile was so wide and small giggles escaped her mouth.

            “I love you too silly.”

For once in his short life Pinocchio could answer how it feels to be human, what makes him human.

The end

Thank you everyone for reading! i haven't written in a while so im a bit rusty but i had to write for P im literally in love with him :')

[as-cruel-as-you]

As Cruel As You - Chapter One

As Cruel As You has officially launched! Keep reading to see the first chapter!

Learn more about As Cruel As You here

Read this chapter on AO3 here

Attention students of Hope's Peak Academy…

You are special. 

Nothing could ever hurt you as long as you have your talents. Here at Hope's Peak, we strive to pave the way to a greater perfection than what we know now. To create a society of young, promising people with no imperfections whatsoever, to create a more profitable world worth living in, that is our goal...

… as they told us.

Hope's Peak painted the world as a place where you could thrive amongst others in harmony, but if all are to thrive at once, how does one such as yourself remain unique? If you must shine as the brightest star, the rest around you must be extinguished.

Look around the room at the unfamiliar faces surrounding you, and know this: Blood will shed for survival. It is in your nature.

---

��Just in case I forget, my name is Komaru Naegi.”

The Komaru in the mirror blinked.

“Oh, mine too!”

She smiled awkwardly at herself. She was running out of ideas for a unique conversation. She didn’t know how much time had passed. Hell, she didn’t even know how old she was anymore.

“Then again, I'm at that age where you forget how old you are anyway,” she always told herself, “so like sixteen or seventeen…”

Talking to herself was Komaru’s specialty. She was the only person she could talk to in this lonely apartment with no contact or even sight of the outside world. The windows were covered by large metal plates and bars from the outside. Had the sun exploded yet? Komaru would’ve had no idea. Her skin was suffering from it… actually, her whole body was, and her brain too. Vitamins were really all she had outside of food. She believed that she was kidnapped. She hadn’t heard another human voice in… uh… she didn’t know-

“OH! I’ve never heard their voice, but there is someone else I talk to: my caretaker. They bring me food!”

It was through a little delivery slot by the exit door, which had never been opened before. Komaru had never seen her caretaker. They knocked at the door whenever she spoke to them, possibly signaling that they were listening. She just wished she could open it to see them...

“I'm trapped in this apartment, but I don't really care. I just want food and a friend.”

The Komaru in the mirror didn’t respond. She must have run out of things to say. Then again, this Komaru ran out of a lot of interesting things to do and say. She even wore the same three outfits… Well, two of them were actually the same outfit just with sweatpants instead of a skirt, which was what she was wearing now. The other outfit was a pink pajama shirt. It was always at least a little bit exciting when any of them developed a hole or a loose string. Regardless of attire at the moment, there was still nothing to say. Maybe the person at the door would be more fun to talk to? Komaru, as in the one not in the mirror, walked over to the big brown door. It wasn’t actually that big, but it felt like it. Perhaps it was the heaviness in the air that surrounded it. Komaru didn’t really care though.

“Hey buddy!” she called. “I can't keep myself entertained this whole time. I still don't know what you even want from me! You give me supplies, but that's it! What am I, a tamagotchi? Is the world actually just a tamagotchi game? BY THE WAY THE EARTH IS ROUND!!! I haven't lost my mind yet!”

A loud knock at the door responded.

“Aha! There you are!” Komaru said.

Another thump confirmed the greeting.

“Are you gonna let me open the door this time?” Komaru asked.

...

“Can I say hi?”

Though it never worked, Komaru reached to twist the doorknob for the millionth time… and it actually moved.

“… Yo…”

With a smile, Komaru flung the door open to greet her mysterious caretaker. It was standing right in front of her, though she had to look down a bit to see it. She was quite surprised to see it standing on four legs. It was an odd looking bear, its fur split between black and white neatly down the middle of its entire body. It stared at her with both a dead black eye and one of a strange jagged shape that emitted a faint red light. The bear bared it’s sharp, shark-like teeth with a wicked grin.

It was in that moment that Komaru’s body realized for her that she was not, in fact, looking at what had been taking care of her these past few however-long-it’s-beens, and the next thing she knew, she was running down the halls of the apartment building on feet that barely touched the ground. The bear, with clearly audible robotic limbs, pursued her swiftly. Komaru would soon discover that there was more than one of these bears as they would jump out in front of her at various intersecting corridors, forcing her to change direction. In truth, she had no idea where she was going. She had no idea if she would even make it out alive. Well, if she didn’t, at least she had the chance to run around at full speed one last time in an event that she could at least consider new and exciting…

… but alas...

BAM!

Suddenly, Komaru was lying on her back, the wind almost knocked out of her. She began to process the fact that she had just ran into something that let out a very human-like shout as she had collided with it. She tilted her head to see before her a young man about her age pushing himself up off of the floor from the fall. He certainly didn’t dress like his age, what with a black suit and tie, a serious scowl and squinting eyes. He pointed what appeared to be a megaphone at the bear, putting himself between her and it.

“Stay back.”

From the megaphone came a bright blue light that fired at the bear, causing it to explode into pieces in midair as it had attempted to lunge at them. Immediately afterwards, the young man looked back at the floor, squinting until he spotted a pair of white glasses that he proceeded to put back on his face. He then reached down, grabbed Komaru by her wrist and pulled her to her feet. He did all of this as if it was an ordinary day in which he did not just blow up a killer robot bear with a seemingly magical megaphone.

“Komaru Naegi, yes?” he asked in a very flat voice.

Any other day, Komaru would have judged this man as a stuffy brat who thinks he is better than anyone else, but after being isolated from any human interaction for who knows how long, she promptly began suffocating him with a hug.

“Hello human person!” she gleefully chirped. “Hello hello helloooo!!! I'm Komaru!! What's your name? Thank you for saving me! I love you. Are you my caretaker? I've been here for, like, AGES! How are you???”

It took the young man a few seconds of silence to recover from the onslaught of extroverted greetings. He was able to survive the squeeze and wriggle himself free from Komaru’s grasp.

“My name is Byakuya Togami,” he said, brushing his now wrinkled clothes straight. “You'll need this.”

Byakuya took another megaphone from his belt that Komaru had failed to notice until now and handed it to her.

“Oo! Thank you thank you!” Komaru said, thrilled that someone would entrust her with something that could be called a gun.

“It's a hacking gun,” Byakuya explained. “You in particular don't need to know about the hacking part, just the gun part. That device was specifically designed to defend yourself against the Monokumas.”

“The robot bears?”

“… Obviously.”

Byakuya made his way to one of the elevators in the room and pressed the down button.

“Remember to aim for the eye,” he said. “I need you to go to the first floor to meet your escort so that I can stay here and look for more survivors.”

Komaru clung onto Byakuya’s arm as he guided her into the elevator.

“Can I stay with you?” she pleaded. “Pleeeeeaaaase???”

“Sorry, but no,” Byakuya said. “It's too dangerous.”

“But I-!”

“Trust me.”

Byakuya shook her off once more, reached into the elevator and pressed the first floor button.

“Makoto sent me.”

Komaru froze as the doors to the elevator closed.

“… Makoto? M-My brother…? Where's he been?? Is he my escort??? Byakuya!?”

Byakuya could not hear her, or perhaps he ignored her. Soon, Komaru had reached the first floor to meet her escort. The good news is her escort wasn't Makoto. That's only good news because the bad news is that the escort exploded.

“And that's all I remember so far!”

Komaru had awoken on a firm bed within what she would describe as a “prison cell from the future.” Around her wrist was a tight black wristband with a bright red line cutting through the middle. It felt a little heavy and uncomfortable, but she somehow didn’t notice it until she saw it. She didn’t remember ever getting it… perhaps the creature at the foot of her bed knew? Well, it was a person, but it wasn’t quite human. She soon found out that it was yet another boy about her age, but instead of hands and feet, he had terrible claws, and though they were sharp, his face was gentle. His wispy white hair had trailed around his body, markings on his torn clothes dotted his sides a dull red and green, the same colors as his target-like eyes. His snout was narrow, his whiskers long and thin. A long, fluffy tail protruded from his back that wrapped around his body as he was curled up around himself. Even the efforts of his nearly matted fur around his neck and the dark, tight collar that looked much like Komaru’s wristband could not hide the thinness of his bony neck. His frailness and unkempt fur made him look much like a sickly, elderly cat.

Komaru, though surprised by the sight of the young man, didn’t take long to process his existence. He seemed friendly and patient despite his apparent condition. He spoke with a gentle yet raspy voice. Yes, he could indeed speak.

“Greetings,” he had said the moment he realized that Komaru was awake. “Do you remember how you got here?”

Komaru had sat up and done exactly that without question. She didn’t care, it was another person to talk to.

“It was kinda sad seeing the city torn up like that,” she said after reciting everything, “but hey, it's a change of pace in life, I guess.”

“Of all of the hostages, you're the most optimistic,” the boy said.

“Who, me?” Komaru laughed. “Nah, I'm just too tired to scream at whatever gods may or may not be out there, but thanks anyway! So! What's your name, fuzzy fella?”

The creature seemed a little worried about Komaru’s attitude, but she didn’t notice his discomfort.

“The Tamer prefers that everyone calls me by my nickname.”

He placed a paw upon his chest.

“Toto.”

Komaru placed her hand on her chest.

“Komaru.”

Toto gave her a sympathetic smile.

“You'll meet the Warriors themselves shortly,” he continued, his smile fading as he looked down. “… just like everyone else does…”

For once, Komaru noticed the other’s sadness.

“You good?” she asked, tilting her head a little.

After thinking for a few seconds, Toto looked back up at her.

“Komaru, can you make me a promise?”

“That depends on the promise, but I'm listening.”

Komaru waited patiently as Toto took in a long, deep and heavy breath. Something was plaguing his peace of mind.

“My friends and I are imprisoned here,” he said. “If you can win the game you're about to play, we will be freed from our cages… and hopefully, our curses.”

“Curses?” Komaru repeated.

“We used to be completely human,” Toto explained, “but we've been turned into… I'm not even sure what to call it. Weaponized creatures, I suppose. I'm one of the few who can still speak to other humans.”

“… Does this mission involve killing anyone?” Komaru asked. “Just curious.”

“Kill as few as you can, none if any,” Toto said. 

“Well, I'm already wondering where my family is,” Komaru said. “I figured that'd be my mission, but I can take a side quest too. I'll do it!”

Komaru takes Toto’s paw and shakes it.

“Thank you,” he said. “I must warn you, the Warriors may release my friends upon you as weapons. Please, do not kill them under any circumstances.”

“You waited until after I promised to say that, didn't you?”

“Well, you are my only hope as of right now.”

They let go of each other’s hands.

“What about everyone else?” Komaru asked. “Y'know, you mentioned how they all meet the Warriors?”

“You're the first person to make that promise with me,” Toto said. “All others assumed it was a trap. It just goes to show how much you care about others… or perhaps how little you care about yourself.”

Komaru silently ignored that last remark. Not waiting for any kind of response, Toto jumped down from the bed, and from the foot of it, retrieved the hacking gun.

“Oh! My gun!,” Komaru gasped gleefully as Toto placed it in front of her. “Thank you!”

Komaru reached over and pulled Toto into a hug. He made a quiet wheezing sound as she squeezed him, but didn’t protest. Komaru couldn’t help but notice how oily, sweaty clammy he felt.

“Are you alright?” Komaru asked as she let the poor creature go. “You feel gross.”

“I'm as good as I'm gonna get right now,” Toto said, not offended by the rather blunt remark.

“Alright…” Komaru sighed. “It’s just that everyone I've met so far doesn't seem well. I don't know if Byakuya survived the bear attack. He's the guy who took care of me while I was trapped, I think.”

“I'm terribly sorry if he didn't survive,” Toto said softly. “On another pressing note... The Warriors will explain everything else you need to know. I'll guide you to them.”

Toto hopped down from the bed once more and approached the door of the cell. Rearing up on his hind legs, he pressed a button on the wall beside the door and stepped back as it opened. Shuffling off of the bed, Komaru latched the hacking gun to the belt of her pants and followed Toto out of the room. Surprise! They were walking through the halls of what appeared to be… a spaceship? At least in Komaru’s eyes. The walls were of metal, lined with softly glowing beams of blue. The floor, however, was a bit out of place. It was a checker pattern, though at every corner the corridor came to there was a large black tile with a white emblem of a four-pointed star haloed by a ring. Checker patterns always reminded Komaru of casinos or American diners. Perhaps the designer wanted to capture the feeling of the latter or had a gambling addiction. Either way, it was tacky. What was worse than the appearance of the place was the smell. It was different from the cell, which smelled of nothing notable, but here there was a faint smell of… Komaru didn’t know what to call it, but it did indeed remind her of a hospital.

“Ugh, it smells like a hospital in this place,” she groaned. 

“I too am disgusted by the smell,” Toto agreed. “Hospitals hold no fond memories in my mind.”

Through the winding halls they journeyed, though before they even reached their supposed destination, one of the metal doors they passed by notably had monstrous sounds of roaring and growling coming from behind it. Toto didn’t acknowledge it. He warned of nothing, explained nothing, pardoned nothing. In fact, his gaze may have even been averted. Komaru merely glanced at it. She could probably guess what was behind that door… but ultimately she said nothing. She continued to silently follow Toto until they came to a point where the halls intersected four ways. In the center room was the most forgettable sculpture that Komaru had ever seen, so much so that she had forgotten what it even looked like the moment that Toto guided her away and up a flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs was a rather large landing for something that held nothing but a set of large double doors on the opposite end of the room. They were notably white, lined with gold and crowned by an ornate glass window above it. Either the glass or the sky was blood red. Komaru could not be sure. Another thing she could not be sure of was if this place wanted to look like a casino, a spaceship, or a cathedral. Regardless of its intentions, it was kind of ugly. Still, it was a new sight, which made it automatically better than being locked up in that godforsaken apartment.

Toto stopped at the center of the room and sat down, waiting for Komaru to catch up with him. When she did, he just looked at her, though she understood what he meant. She approached those large doors and pushed them open. The place they were in had officially decided that it wanted to be a cathedral, for before them was a grand room of marble… or what at least appeared to be marble. One could not trust the appearance of materials these days. The walls were lined with pillars, golden trim and windows and curtains of red. Every small step Komaru made reverberated through the mostly empty room. The only things present within it besides Komaru and Toto were five children in the dead center grouped in a linear formation, staring at her. None of them could have been older than twelve. They all looked rather calm despite the strange situation everyone seemed to be in. In fact, they stared at Komaru as if they knew exactly what was going on, like they had been anticipating her arrival.

The right-most child was dressed mostly in pink with a warm brown hoodie overlaying her puffy skirt and shorts. There were long white and pink striped stockings beneath her tall brown boots. Her hair was long, even while styled in pigtails topped with a headband that gave her big pink devil horns, all tied together with a little white bow above her bangs. Were her eyes also pink, or was that just a trick on Komaru’s eyes played by the smiling little girl’s rosy cheeks?

The second child had a rather stern look on his face, his blue eyes glaring daggers into Komaru. It was a stare that she was familiar with, but she wasn’t exactly intimidated by him. His hair was short and light blue with two pointed cowlicks that reminded Komaru a bit of cat ears… or perhaps another set of devil horns? His outfit was rather plain, with a pale blue coat and shorts blanketing a darker blue shirt. The sleeves were long like the darker blue stockings that met at his feet with a pair of hook and loop shoes that matched the color of his coat. Around his neck was a striped golden-orange scarf. Overall, it was hard to determine the kind of weather that this kid was dressed for, but he seemed very serious about himself.

The child in the center of the group sat in a red wheelchair. Her eyes were bright green, and though she donned a sweet and innocent face, something about her stare was haunting. Her short curly hair sort of reminded Komaru of pickles. Besides her big red bows atop her head and around the neck of her dark blue dress, the only other notable thing about her was the wolf plush that she was holding upon her lap.

The fourth child finally broke the pattern of hair color matching eye color. His eyes were blue, but his spiky hair and bushy eyebrows were a screaming blood orange. He appeared to be a sporty kid, wearing a striped black and orange shirt beneath a white tank top with denim shorts and sports sneakers. He also wore white headphones, but not even those could suppress his fiery hair. He held a baseball bat over his shoulder in a proud manner.

The left-most child was probably the least excited of them all. In fact, they looked rather sullen. They wore a mask of leather scraps that shielded their face with the exception of their mouth and pale eyes. Dark plastic wire mesh circles covered their ears and a few other spots on their head possibly just for ventilation, but the purpose of the breathing tube that hung in front of their chin was uncertain. They were mostly dressed in brown, their body almost entirely obscured by a long dress shirt with sleeves that went far over their hands. Around their waist was a belt of various little sculpting tools, more of which could be seen protruding from the lid of a white randoseru upon their back.

…

Komaru waved to the five children.

“Hullo!”

“See? I told you guys we should've made our outfits at the Halloween store,” said the sullen child. “Not every Demon is gonna be afraid of us on sight.”

“You know darn well I can't walk through Halloween stores with those crappy decorations that pop out at you!” the girl in pink snapped.

“Guys! Shut up!”

The other children looked to the sporty kid.

“We have to do the thing!” he said. “The protoceratops or whatever it's called.”

“Protocol,” the stern boy corrected.

“Yeah, that,” said the sporty kid, rolling his eyes. “Dinosaurs are cooler but that's what I meant.”

“You have a point,” Komaru said.

“SILENCE, DEMON!”

“Oh my bad.”

“I mean like, thanks for agreeing with me, but shut up. I'm gonna start the Protoceratops now. And I'm calling it that because dinosaurs are awesome and I want to call it that, not because I'm dense.”

Komaru should have guessed early on that these kids had no intention of being peaceful with her. Hell, they could barely remain peaceful with each other, what with the stern boy redirecting his glare of daggers to the sporty kid. The only child who didn’t seem to want to argue in that moment was the girl in the wheelchair. The children all then focused on Komaru.

“We are the Warriors of Hope!” the sporty kid proudly announced. “Thanks to our val-i-ant efforts, the world of Demons has been van-quished, making way for a peaceful and pros-per-ous world for children who shall no longer live in fear of the wrath of adults!”

...

“… Jataro, it's your turn.”

The sullen kid flinched as the sporty kid said his name.

“Oh, right, sorry…” he mumbled before raising his own voice. “Demons brought us nothing but sorrow and led us to fall into a deep pit of despair. We were only rescued when our Goddess chose us as the heroes of our people, and guided us to slay those who had hurt us. She then told us that we were destined to create a Paradise for all children and free us from the world of adults once and for all!” 

“From this, we crafted a game we call "Demon Hunting," where we release our captured Demons and hunt them down,” the girl in pink continued on cue. “Whichever one of us kills the most Demons by the time all Demons have been eliminated wins the right to rule our new world. Do not underestimate our power, as we are the five chosen Lil' Ultimates of Hope's Peak Elementary, and have trained to optimize our abilities.”

“You have been chosen as our next Demon,” said the stern kid. “Together, we will cast you into our new world-”

“THE PARACHUTE!”

The rest of the children scowled at Jataro, minus the girl in the wheelchair, who just looked a tad bit disappointed.

“Uhhh we forgot to give the last Demon a parachute,” Jataro said. “That just kinda ruined the fun early.” 

Komaru felt a slight nudge as Toto had begun carefully strapping a parachute to her back. It must have been difficult with his claws, so she remained as still as she could.

“… Er, thank you, Jataro,” the stern boy reluctantly said before continuing. “Together, we will cast you into our new world, our Paradise! You only have so much time to see what the whole world will look like after you've left it! Who will it be who hunts you down? Will it be…”

“Masaru, the Fighter!” shouted the sporty kid.

“Jataro, the Priest!” piped up Jataro, whose name had already been uttered multiple times in annoyance.

“Kotoko, the Tamer!” the girl in pink said cutely.

“Nagisa, the Sage!” said the stern boy firmly.

“Or Monaca, the Mage?” the girl in the wheelchair nearly whispered.

The girl now known as Monaca retrieved a small remote with a big red button from her pocket, aiming it in Komaru’s direction.

“Demon, do you have any last words before the Hunt begins?” she asked with that haunting voice of hers.

Komaru stared blankly. She looked back at Toto, who was sitting a little far back by the door. He looked gloomy, but there was a gleam of hope in his eyes…

...

“… Hey, I'm sorry, I kinda zoned out for most of that,” Komaru said. “Could you guys repeat what you said?”

The children stared at Komaru for a few seconds with the most disappointment she had ever seen on the faces of children before Monaca promptly pressed the button. Before she knew it, the ground beneath Komaru had vanished, and she was swallowed into a deep red sky. In that moment, she screamed, and though she would later find that it should have been more so in fear, for now it was mostly with excitement to feel the wind on her face again, to feel some kind of rush of adrenaline, to breathe the murky outside air...

Finally, something, anything was happening.

[creonininkwell]

Creon is on her own for this macguffin hunt, due to a nasty spat between her and Lucy/Devil. Thankfully, she finds some help from Chips Bettigan and Mr. Wheezy, two unlucky miscreants that are under contract to one of the Devil’s errant agents.Lengthier details below

After following another lead to a possible portal, Creon had a rather nasty fight with Lucy/Devil. Lucy broke certain boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, and now Creon can’t trust that Lucy will keep things professional or if he’ll be petty on every expedition/search. For now, she’s going to keep finding ways home on her own. The next search took her to an obscure speakeasy, that run by an equally obscure rat mob. She was persistent in finding the elusive club, and managed to gain entry.

This is where she meets Chips Bettigan and Mr. Wheezy; the cursed surveilance duo and hired muscle of the Monterey Jack Speakeasy. These two made the mistake of pissing off the rat boss, who got these two cursed to eternal indentured servitude. Most of the Devil’s agents are granted an ability to form soul contracts, even if they’re weaker.

Creon felt sorry for the two, and struck out a deal with the two. She sneaked into the boss’s office to search for the magical artifact she needed. Sadly, the artifact ended up being useless to her goal, but not completely disposable. Turns out, having a set of magic mirrors can act as tiny warp gates connecting to each other. Bonus, she found Chips’ and Wheezy’s contracts.

When they got caught red-handed by the rat boss, Creon kicked the rat boss in the head, knocking him out cold. And also accidentally breaking some expensive antiques; magic antiques that had been acting as anchors that kept the entire speakeasy hidden, especially from the Devil’s presence. Creon booked it out of the now visible speakeasy, which was a literal hole in the floor of a local cheesery.

After hijacking a car and a chaotic car chase, Creon and her new friends take a breather. Creon then decides to try and destroy Chips’s and Wheezy’s contracts with the giant spoon. It still required Wheezy setting a trashcan on fire so she could start boiling water. Creon has had lots of practice using the spoon and finding out a few more abilities. She decided to try and see if it would respond to her intentions. While the contracts aren’t destroyed, the signatures in them are now illegible due to boiling water.  You can’t behold a contract to a person if you don’t know who it’s for.

Chips and Wheezy are no longer compelled to obey the rat boss. Turns out this rat had been hiding away from the Devil by staying inside his magically, hidden speakeasy. Let’s just say the Devil actually found the rat 2 nights later.

Creon warily invited Chips and Wheezy to visit her if they stop by in Inkwell. She warns that she makes no promises of breaking them out of jail, especially if they had committed any previous crimes there. And no, she will NEVER trust those two to babysit. Lucy/Devil just hates the two on principal. It’s going to take a while for Lucy/Devil to gain any sort trust back.

[strxnged]

CHILUMI: # a chasmic mistake.

CHAPTER I: descent.

chapter summary. in which Lumine makes a decision she will regret; in which Childe has everything under control.

wc. 3.4k. genre. enemies to lovers, adventure, pining.

table of contents / next chapter

Lumine’s muscles tensed as she felt the ground beneath her feet give way. She should have seen this coming, having ignored the signs placed around the area warning against trespassing. She’d never been the type to pay them much attention, nor had her target. And Paimon wasn’t around to drag her back, either—her floaty friend was left behind somewhere as she’d scaled the mountains and skidded back down them, only willing to stop for one thing.

That one thing would be her blade to the neck of the Eleventh Harbinger.

Paimon had said this whole thing was pointless, that “Mr. Moneybags” would only get them both into danger. Lumine had initially agreed, but seeing Childe, the man who had tried to kill her and wipe out all of Liyue Harbour, recklessly hunting a bounty across the nation had driven her to devote herself entirely to stopping him. 

Countless duels had commenced over the last few weeks, and Lumine had contributed greatly to the chaos that followed in his wake. He liked resisting her, and she liked that she got closer to defeating him every time. But it was because of Childe. It was all his fault. Him, and those damn Fatui.

Lumine had caught word of a bountied creature, some kind of rare animal belonging to a Sumeran noble. She had already understood that this was his goal. But she found it very suspicious of the deceptive (and wealthy) Snezhnayan to chase just any bounty. Surely it wasn’t just over some Mora, because that was definitely not worth falling several hundred meters into the so-called solar chariot ruins known as the Chasm. Thus, she had been keeping an eye on him. A very close, hunting eye.

He had told her about his plans himself during one of their duels, saying, “You can’t blame me for bounty hunting. You’ve done enough of that to understand the thrill of it.” And this, she could not deny. In a way, he was her own target, the unattainable bounty being satisfaction.

Lumine had never been great at saving herself from near-miss falls, but whatever ability she could muster would momentarily have to come into use. She would grab ahold of something—anything—to keep from getting herself stuck in the abandoned mines. She slid down a crumbling slate of rock, which angled her closer to the gaping black hole below. The Qixing had claimed to have sealed it off completely; how could it be that there was now a wide mouth to the dark caverns below?

Making quick use of Anemo, she managed to propel herself to the edge of the gap, scrambling up to uncertain safety. Only once she was assured the rock would hold her did she venture to peer down the hole. 

“Hey, girlie! You sure you wanna go down there?”

The nauseatingly charming voice echoed dramatically from somewhere above her and she looked up.

Childe stood on some jutting rocks further up the opposite side of the cavity, waving his fingers at her from over the edge. “Hello!”

She didn’t respond, making a face she hoped he could read from his distance.

“Someday you’ll be happier to see me,” Childe said. “Come now, no need to look at me like that. Suppose I’ll catch you later, then, traveller. Careful on the way down!”

With that, he took a step and a hop over the edge, soaring confidently towards the depths of the Chasm. A flash of grey and ginger later, and he had disappeared into the darkness. Lumine crawled to the overhang’s edge, gazing down into it again.

She had no defensive logic for the decision she was about to make, and yet… she had to. He was dragging her down with him without even touching her. She had to follow him, no matter what.

—

The first thing Lumine noticed upon landing was an ache in her legs. Her glider had served her well for most of it—but the amount of time it took her eyes to adjust to the low light level still had her legs nervously tensing for most of the descent.

It smelled of dank cave, metal, and some bitter scent she couldn’t place. She immediately took to a rock that was just the right size for leaning on, and regained her wits as she looked around. There was no exit; that was clear.  The cavern appeared to be fairly large, narrowing towards the stone ceiling from which she fell, assuring no simple clambering out. She’d find a way out eventually, as she always did, but escape seemed to be quite out of reach for now.

Damn. If only she could contact Venti to fly her out. But then, even if she could, the last time she had seen him he was too intoxicated to fly straight. It wouldn’t serve either of them well. Also, as lovely as Venti was as a friend, he was one of the last people she’d like to be stuck underground with. Childe was further down that list, of course.

Around herself, she could make out the shapes of different rocks and minerals, dismally glowing cave-dwelling blossoms, and in the distance, the faint silhouettes of abandoned mining equipment. 

And no Paimon. Paimon would have no idea where she was.

Lumine had no chance to grieve this lack of communication, because she heard footsteps and disfigured yelling just a moment later.

“Who’s there? Name yourself!”

She said nothing, hopping over the rock and gliding further down into the cavern. Unfortunately, she noticed the Fatui camp’s fire all-too-close to where she landed.

“There’s an intruder!” The distorted voice of a Pyroslinger broke out and she groaned internally. Not even a minute to catch her breath? Really?

Lumine’s attacks came naturally, blowing down the Fatui’s elemental shields and stunning them with Anemo vortexes. Finally reaching the last enemy, the Pyroslinger Bracer, she took slow steps towards the corner she’d blasted him into. She always soaked up the last moments of her victory for what they could offer: the Pyroslinger’s arms raised to protect himself, muttering curses just loud enough for her to enjoy, and the inevitability of his defeat. Her movements halted, suddenly, though it was neither her doing nor the Fatui skirmisher’s. Her vision was dimming, and she looked around herself to see strange dark mud covering the ground. Her nose was overwhelmed by the bitter smell now, and her legs were leaden.

Three shots from the recovering Pyroslinger now struck her chest, knocking her off her balance. She collapsed to the ground with hands cushioning her fall in the egregious mud. She looked up as the Pyroslinger repositioned his gun to aim again. She couldn’t pull her hands out of the mud fast enough to reach for her sword, which had fallen to her left.

“Stand down, comrade,” a tenor voice said from somewhere behind. 

The Fatui skirmisher looked up from her and cocked his head. “Who gives you the authority?”

A second later, two arrows had struck each of the skirmisher’s shoulders, just hanging onto the top of the fur, and a third zipped directly into the feather on his hat, knocking it clean off.

“Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, grants me absolute authority.” Childe stepped into Lumine’s view, giving a cold smile to the skirmisher. “Can’t recognize one of the Eleven Harbingers, comrade?” A dim flash bloomed above his gloved palm in a shapeless lantern of elemental energy, casting an eerie blue glow on his visage. 

The skirmisher stood straight, giving an awkward salute. “Forgive me, sir.”

“You’re off the hook, but don’t go aiming your gun at me again,” he chided. “Her Majesty will hear about it.”

“No, sir. But—” he gestured to Lumine “—she took down my whole squad.”

Childe peered into the shadows, noting the unconscious or incapacitated forms of said squad. “I see.” His dim elemental lantern extinguished and he offered Lumine his hand, which she greeted with nothing but an offended stare. “Good work, girlie. You know, you really don’t have to attack ‘em unprovoked, hey?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” she spat, getting to her feet without his assistance and dusting herself off. This mud would surely leave quite the stain.

“Don’t I get a ‘thank you’?”

“I had that under control.”

“I’d beg to differ,” he said, leaning over to her to wipe a bit of muck out of her hair. She froze, at first, and then stepped away from him, slapping his hand away. Fetching her sword from the mud, Lumine nearly stormed off.

But then she realized, with much consternation, that she had nowhere to walk away to. Her goal had been to stop him. She wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

By now he should have prompted a duel, as had happened each time before. She’d interrupted him chatting with (interrogating) innocent civilians in Qingce Village, prevented his discovery of Albedo’s camp, and taken clues for herself. Rumours were everywhere, of course—and yet they had both been acquainted with similar directions to the earthquake zone which had dropped them here. The targeted creature was last spotted and chased away by guards of the Chasm. The guards were the reckoned finish line of their race for intel. But the guards were at the Surface, and they were down here. 

Childe grimaced at her movement. His eyes didn’t leave her.

Lumine cleared her throat. “You didn’t, by chance… end up talking to the…”

“The guards? Nah, I didn’t make it that far. You thought I might have come back for you, girlie?” He sniggered.

Lumine stared at him blankly. She wanted to ask him, what now? But she also didn’t want to be confronted about her decision to come down here in the first place.

He turned to the Pyroslinger. “When’s your relay over?”

“Twenty-seven days.”

“Rations?”

“We’re fine. There’s water sources down here, and mushrooms we can roast in the worst case.” 

“Good. Carry on, comrade.” He eyed a Fatuus in the shadows, who was groaning in pain. “And… try to take care of your squad, will ya?”

“Acknowledged.”

Lumine almost felt guilt for causing this group all the trouble. But then she remembered. They were Fatui.

And so was Childe. She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword and glared at him. He turned to her with an amiable smile, ignoring her stance.

“Now, then, traveller, whaddya say we explore a little?”

Lumine tightened her hand’s grip on the hilt. “For what?”

“Well, for fun, of course.”

She gave him a hard look. “Okay,” she said slowly, relaxing her hand, “let’s explore. For fun.”

—

Oh, it was excruciating walking alongside her enemy like this. Lumine hated how he walked a little bit ahead, how he pointed out directions they should go, how he made small talk. How he attempted banter and she fell into the trap of responding. How he never hesitated at a single turn, offering light from his vision in case she found the dark to be too much (which she denied, affronted by the preposition that she was afraid of darkness).

“It seems to narrow into a smaller cave, here,” Childe was saying, “why don’t we—”

“You should let me walk ahead,” she interrupted.

He cocked his head at her, Fatui mask in his hair shifting with the movement. “Why? You want to protect me?”

“No, idiot. I don’t trust you.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust his intuition—it was sharp, she could admit—but that she hated being out of control. She was used to the “why don’t we—”s from Paimon, but rather than observant reminders as it was with her pixie companion, it sounded like suspicious schemes. Anything he said sounded like a part of a ploy, a puzzle to unravel. Some kind of evil mission, probably. It always would be with him.

He tch’d, but gestured for her to walk ahead. “You have so little faith in me.”

“I wonder why, Childe,” she spat his codename. “I wonder why.”

With a pause, he sent Lumine a more serious look. He spoke carefully. “I think it would help,” he said, “if you took the time to hear me out a little, girlie.”

Lumine studied his expression. It wasn’t often she got to see his expression reveal anything more than military, wiley, or bloodthirsty. The corners of his lips were nudged back, his brows were slightly gathered, and his eyes were direct. And his Fatui mask was as red as ever.

“I respectfully disagree,” she said, taking the lead ahead. “No amount of explaining can justify your actions. And don’t call me that.”

“I’m not trying to challenge your morals, traveller.”

She threw her arms out. “Then stop acting like you want me to fancy your ass.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about, Childe?”

He hesitated again, boasting an irked expression. “I don’t need a babysitter, but you’ve been following me for weeks. Why?”

“You have the codename ‘Childe’ for a reason, don’t you?”

He went silent. Lumine looked over her shoulder to see his brows lowering.

“Giving up on your own case already?”

His gaze set into hers. “Do you hear that?”

Lumine listened, and then latched her eyes onto an ominous shape in the darkness. There was a soft, rattling snarl, which she recognized as that of a Geovishap only a second before it was too late. She leapt before Childe, raising her sword just in time to deflect the pounce of the dragonish Creature. Its claws scraped against the stone floor as it fell back, gearing up to leap again. Childe dashed past her and the Geovishap, and aimed a shot right at the nape of its neck, causing it to freeze milliseconds before lunging. It twitched, falling to its curved back.

For a second, Lumine thought he’d slain the Geovishap in a single shot, but it then began to twitch, spin, roll, towards Childe this time. He dove out of the way, narrowly escaping one hit which only seemed to aggravate the Geovishap more, landing directly in front of him with its claws out. Lumine always thought of Childe as rather tall and altitudinally advantaged, but when standing before an adult Geovishap he looked so small. Fleeting fear overtook her mind and with a leap from behind she took a steady blade through its skull.

Childe stepped back as it crumpled in his direction, Hydro blades dissolving into elemental energy as he gave her a taunting look. “You know, I had that under control.”

A proud smile spread across Lumine’s lips. “Ha. I’d beg to differ,” she said, planting one foot on the creature’s back, almost too high to reach, and driving her sword heavily into its back through scales.

His gaze shifted between the hilt of her sword, her overstretched leg, and her expression. A grin bloomed gradually, blessedly, on his own face and he laughed jovially. “Alright, then. You can lead the way.”

Lumine cleared her throat and withdrew her blade, swinging it inattentively before sheathing it. She forced her smile down. “Yes. Good. I will.”

He took to walking behind her, and she hated that more, because she could not see him. After a few minutes, she commanded, “Walk beside me.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Shut the hell up.”

He took to her right side with an expression like a satisfied fourteen-year old who just won a match of cards. “We should find somewhere to set up camp pretty soon, no?”

Lumine huffed. She did not want to set up camp with No. 11 of the Fatui Harbingers.

“Unless you want to go back and find my subordinates. I’m not sure how pleased they would be to host you after your unprompted attack, but I am great at convincing.”

“You’re not always so great at convincing,” she said, still unable to admit he had a point. She had no way to tell the time but she knew it had been late afternoon upon their descent, and they had been walking for several hours. Her legs were in need of rest.

“I’d like to think sometimes it takes longer than other times, but the job always gets done.”

“You’d like to think a lot of things.” The tunnel around them was widening rapidly as they walked. “I’d like to think this is our way out, but how likely is that?”

He pointed ahead. “There’s actually a bit of a semi-cave there, under that overhang, you see? You wanna set up there?”

She squinted into the darkness. “You’re joshing. There’s nothing to see.”

“Come on.” They walked in the direction he had gestured towards, and there was indeed a semi-cave, three walls but a big enough opening on the fourth side that there was no chance of getting trapped. “Is this to your liking, girlie?” he asked, like they were touring a couple’s apartment.

“Could be worse,” she conceded, and dropped her bag against the wall. “Now, by setting up camp, what is it you’re actually referring to?” Lumine crossed her arms, eyeing him. “Fire, food, shelter, and comfort? Or do you just conk out for a few hours on the ground?”

“Do you think I’m a savage?” he asked with a laugh. “I carry a leather blanket in my bag. I can make a fire with wet wood. I know how to turn a snowy tree into a cozy shelter. Hm… But we haven’t got any kindling, so shall we find some cave grass?”

Lumine, slightly insulted that he supposed her straightforward method of setting up camp to be savage, sauntered towards the greater opening of the cave and surveyed the area. There was still a strangely sufficient amount of light, though perhaps not enough for her to pick up on details such as potential grass locales. She squinted, trying to decide quite how far away the other side of the cave really was.

“Let’s walk this way.” Childe waved her over, providing his blue glow with elemental energy. She wished she knew how to do that. But she didn’t dare ask, knowing that sharing any trade secrets with a Fatuus would be both humiliating and disgusting.

“Childe,” she said, instead, and then hesitated. The forthcoming inquiry was terrible, but had to be inquired nonetheless.

“Yeah?”

“What are we gonna… or rather, what are you doing down here, and…”

He met her eyes without a tinge of sass. “You’re really asking your sworn enemy to reveal his plan to you?”

“Uh…” Lumine sucked air through her teeth. This was atrociously painful. “What’s the plan?”

Childe’s face broke into a wide grin and he howled. “You are so cute.”

“Answer the damn question, Harbinger.”

He chuckled some more. “Alright, since you asked so nicely. I already have enough leads that I know the bounty’s down here.” He shrugged matter-of-factly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a few days to reach it.”

Lumine narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you… know the Chasm well?”

He clicked his tongue. “Not particularly, but I don’t get lost.”

“You don’t get lost? Not even in massive, cursed cave systems?”

“Nope!”

“Do you have much experience underground?”

“Oh…” he said. “Yes, a bit.” 

For a fraction of a second his smile flickered, and this Lumine noticed with suspicion. However, she decided not to push it, keeping a watchful eye on him as they descended deeper into the cavern.

Wherever they were going, Lumine would have to stay on her guard for the deception that the Fatui Harbinger inevitably had in store for her. She knew how to survive, but she did not know the Chasm. She had not even seen a map of it before, and only had a trifle of knowledge about what had happened here. She was aware that it was related to the cataclysm 500 years ago, but its role was a mystery to her and the reason for its hushed nature in Liyue was just as mysterious. It was unclear whether Childe knew the Chasm, but he was of this world and was therefore at an advantage.

That, and he was the one who had some kind of true motive for being down here.

And Lumine’s only motive was to prevent him from accomplishing it.

author's note. please reblog if you enjoyed. thanks so much for reading! i'm so excited about this series man i poured my soul into it

— table of contents / next chapter

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

[frogthane]

Presentable Liberty

Okie, so forewarning, this post shall be discussing certain topics that may not be suitable for all, such as suicide, so please do bear that in mind before proceeding.

So, I just recently watched Markiplier's video depicting his gameplay of "Presentable Liberty" (yes, I'm aware I'm a tad bit late to the show). Anywho, the game was created by "Wertpol", birth name Robert Brock, who unfortunately decided to end his life in June 2018. This game in particular speaks to what I could only presume to be his experience with mental health.

A brief summary for those of you who haven't a clue what this game is: the game starts off with the protagonist in a prison cell, who's only means of communication with the outside world are letters sent by 4 characters. Through these letters, we learn of a world plagued by infection outside and we told we are one of the few 2% left uninfected.

Now, for the analysis (if you still haven't a clue of what the hell is going on, I do highly recommend Markiplier's playthrough). The story may seem wild, unpredictable and just plainly doesn't make any sense, however, I started relating to the events through my own experiences. First and foremost, we have the cell. We haven't a clue what exists outside this small room, our only source of information coming from occasional letters delivered through the slat under our prison cell doorway. And so begins the numerous symbolisms. What do we think of when we think of prison? Sure, of course we think criminals, violence, guards, life sentences, but what of isolation? And in the case of this game, that isolation exists within one's mind. The protagonist shuts themselves away from society, only receiving information from letters which I interpreted to be social media and text messages, hence why progressively we become more and more enthusiastic about receiving them. It represents the small hits of dopamine that hits our minds anytime we see a message from a friend, or a notification from a platform. We have isolated ourselves from the world for unknown reasons, creating a prison cell within our minds.

But what of the virus? Depression. It is slowly affecting the population, killing them off slowly but surely, either an individual's organs slowly shutting down, or from them committing the act themselves. That is the infection spreading about. Depressing, hence why Mr Smiley is tasked with keeping us happy. We mustn't fall into despair like the rest of the population. We mustn't be infected.

Mr Smiley is certainly a unique character. He seems rather odd at first, and their only goal is to keep us happy, the reason behind it later on being revealed to be because his two daughters are being held hostage. And it works. We gain a penpal. We become happier, for whatever brief amount of time. Sort of like the effects therapy and drugs have on our psyche. However, they might not always work. Eventually, the benefits might start to dwindle, and we shall once more find ourselves at square one with our depression, and so, Mr Smiley departs.

Charlotte is a random stranger from a bakery who begins to write to us from lack of companionship. Her mood drastically changes in the letters, until eventually she speaks of no longer being able to go on. Charlotte offers us a different perspective of how suicide affects us all. Despite being a virtual stranger to us, we grow fond of her, and her death strikes a chord in our hearts. She demonstrates the lasting effect one can have on another individual, such as the beautiful music we heard from her phonograph one lonely evening. It may seem small, but it lasts, and her departure leaves a gaping hole in our chests.

Now, our friend, Salvadore. He is far from our world, deep in nature, exploring his own adventure and doing as he wishes with his life. He sends us gifts and letters, retelling his experience and expresses his miss for us. We don't respond. He eventually realizes something is wrong. He notices the symptoms. He frantically makes his way home, to where he discovers it is not how he left it. The signs become obviously clear. He makes his way to us, telling us not to give up, that he shall arrive. Until he reaches an obstacle. The prison. Our mind's blockade. And when he attempts shutting off the power, he is electrocuted.

Throughout the game, characters vaguely mention us being high up. High up? In a prison? Unless once more, there is symbolism. A rooftop, perhaps. We are at the edge, about to make a decision that we can't take back. And Salvadore, our friend, died trying to help us, maybe showing that however good our friends' intentions are, if we are so caught up within our inner turmoil, we may drag them down with us. But throughout all this, there has been one obvious villain, one obvious antagonist who wishes for Mr Salvadore to quit speaking with us, who wishes for us to remain in our cell forever.

Mr Money. He sets up Mr Smiley to provide us happiness, though in all the letters, it is evidently fake, ingenuine. Mr Money is the one handing out the antidote, worsening the infection, the situation as a whole. He is the one who keeps us imprisoned in isolation, who so desperately wishes for us to cut off all communication with the outside.

He is human's worst enemy. Our minds.

[chaos-monkeyy]

20 Questions for fanfic writers

Tagged by @trainofcommand and @cordeliaperry , thank you 😁

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

351

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

969,232 !

(I had a soft goal of trying to break a million this year, but I probably won't quite make it. Ah well, next year!)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Literally anything I see or read that happens to hit squirrel-brain in the right spot: Stargate, Star Wars, Cosmere / Stormlight Archive / Sanderson's books generally, Loki series & other MCU media, OFMD, Good Omens, Dresden Files, Star Trek (and one-offs for random-ass shows like the Mentalist, 1899, tLoVM, Echoes, etc). Honorable mentions to past beloved fandoms that I'm not super likely to really get back to again include Midsomer Murders, the Witcher, Assassin's Creed, and the Expanse 💕

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Top spot is A wonderful thing (OFMD); the next four in order are all Witcher - A Tight Fit, Stolen Moments, Keep it up, and Undignified.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I love seeing people's reactions, and letting them know how much I appreciate that they took the time and energy to comment (because fuck knows, I don't always have the spoons to comment on stuff myself). And it's so nice to get that connection with people and get excited about stuff together!

(I have missed some replies here and there just because of over-stressing about what to respond, and subsequently feeling guilty that I left them unanswered so long 🙈 ahh, anxiety-brain, you sure are special)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is one is easy, it's definitely Zombie / what's in your head. One of only two times I've written Major Character Death, and the only time I've used the Angst and Tragedy tag.

It's fucking brutal, honestly. Damn good, but ouch. Dark. Sometimes I reread it when I just want to cry hopelessly for awhile. It's like an... emotional reset or something.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings in the happy-sexy-sated vein, but most of my fics are also happy-sexy-oneshots so there isn't any real conflict or worry to come back from that makes the happy ending something that wasn't a given, if that makes sense. My first thought for something more involved was Inflection Point, but it's not exactly a happy ending for everyone. So I think I'll go with Curious Creatures, because even though I know how it ends and I wrote the damn thing, I still somehow get worried it will have a sad ending every time I go back and reread it, and then I'm relieved all over again at the end.

(Honorable mention to the Adventures of Admiral Prawn and Yee-Claw, because how can we not be happy that he found his lost hat with the help of a new friend 😂)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Honestly nowhere near as much as I'd kind of expect to? 😆

I had some rando dickhead giving me grief in comments on a couple Assassin's Creed fics, and I've seen people griping in fandom social media spaces about a couple of my works and the fact they (gasp) existed in the tags at all, but mostly people have been decent and kept it to themselves when they don't like me or my writing 💖

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes. All of it. All the smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not really! Never published one to AO3. Closest I've got is that Witcher-Assassins Creed WIP languishing in my google docs, and a silly fun little SGA-Original SW thing on tumblr from probably a couple years ago now.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Pretty sure, yeah. Not to the point of really being able to do anything about it but it kinda sucked. Shit happens.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! A couple of them that I know of 😁

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Oh hell yeah. Many times 💕

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Cock/Hole.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Mmm I have two published WIPs that fall into that category exactly, Ill-advised encounters and The skills of Assassins. They were really fun, I'd have really liked to finish them, annnd I probably never will 😅

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty damn good at pacing a story, whether it's a oneshot or a longer fic, and at getting ~feelings~ across (whether it's horny feelings, smushy soft feelings, angsty feelings, whatever). And I've been told that I'm good at like... developing a setting and characters in a way that flows or unfolds naturally with the story while you read? Or something like that? (they said it better and it made me very happy)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

That would be not getting things actually started and just keeping the ideas in my head because What If this time I can't make the words do the thing good enough. Especially whenever I have ideas for something potentially longer or more involved, I do tend to kinda shoot myself in the foot by going "eehhhhh that would be a LOT of work though.... I don't want that kind of commitment....... Maybe I'll write down the idea later............"

Also being constantly distracted by shiny new things. But that part's fun 😆

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I use italics, try to limit it to single words or short phrases, and where possible I make the meaning clear or translated somehow within the fic itself. Last resort, I'll add a little glossary to the start or end notes if it's important to the story.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Midsomer Murders 💖

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I genuinely don't have a favourite! There's a few I'm extra proud of myself for accomplishing, but I really like most of what I've ever written for one reason or another.

Or another answer would be, my current favourite changes like every week and is usually one of my recent fics 😂 Right now it's probably The Taste of My Blade; it'll be something else in a month.

No pressure tags: @dewdropreader , @mirilyawrites , @starport-seven-five , @loki-is-my-kink-awakening , @dedkake , @wantonwhale , and I won't spam tag all the same people as I did in yesterday's tag game in case you're not feeling it right now, but as always - if you see this and want to be tagged, you are! 💙

[insomniacdreammerbb]

Synopsis: a slow burn love story of my favorite chaotic mess of a man Dieter Brave and F!reader. 18+ eventually, minors dni

Trigger warnings: mentions of drugs, death, death by overdose, domestic abuse. Eventually smut.

Authors Note: I haven't written in years, but I have fallen down the rabbit hole of so many talented writers here on tumblr with Pedro Pascal character fanfics. I’m a sucker for a good slow burn, smutty, fluffy love story. Goal is to keep it around or under ten chapters. Any feedback would be appreciated! Also I’m new to tumblr and don’t really know how to use the platform so any advice on that would be nice too.

Chapter One

You cringe when your phone rang for the fourth time today. This is what it was like when Dieter had nothing to do. He’d constantly be blowing up your phone asking you where you put the sex toys that he’d ordered, what's next on his schedule for press or shoots or sometimes it’d be even something more ridiculous like if you believed that Octopuses were really aliens that landed on earth from a meteor. He’d be like this whenever he didn’t have someone to keep him company or in between projects.

“Yes boss?” You answered as you placed your iphone on speaker as you continued typing away at your MacBook finishing up Deiter’s reservation at a resort up in Canada for a project next year.

“What am I doing this weekend?” Dieter asks not bothering to greet you first, this was normal.

You clocked on the calendar on your MacBook, “You have a podcast with Stephen from Vanity Fair Saturday morning at eleven. Other than that your day is free.”

“Hey set me up a reservation for the Marriott in the Marina,” Dieter began barking, “and book two seats for the sunset cruise and dinner on the bay.”

You opened up google typing in the resort, you were used to Dieter giving you demands like this.

“Two seats?” You questioned him and you clicked book now, “who are you going with?”

“A friend,” Dieter replied sheepishly.

“A friend?” You repeated with a raised eyebrow, “Who is it? I’m gonna have to put her name on the second seat for the cruise so you’re gonna have to tell me anyways.”

Dieter was quiet for a moment, “Lola.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” You said, rolling your eyes, “her again?”

“What she’s hot,” Dieter responded, you could practically see her pouty puppy dog eyes he had as he spoke, “and her and her ex just broke up.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again,” Dieter said dramatically, “she’s on the rebound and slumming it and I’m loving it.”

You rolled your eyes again, “you know you don’t have to pick women who are slumming it just to get laid you know. There’s plenty of beautiful women all over L.A. who would happily spend an evening on a sunset cruise. Why do you need to pick the wicked witch of the L.A.?”

“See that’s where you’re wrong,” Dieter began to say, “Those women only wanna hang out with me because I’m a big time movie star. They dont really give a fuck about me.”

“And you think Lola does?” You pointed out.

“No not really,” Dieter said with a hint of sadness in his voice, “but honestly fuck it. I just wanna go out on the ocean, eat some good food and then eat some good pussy. Lola’s good for that.”

“Alright,” you said, conceding knowing that this was a time old argument the two of you have had many times. You knew that it wouldn’t go anywhere and you still had too much to do today to spend the time arguing.

“Do you want the all inclusive romantic suite with, jacuzzi bathtub with an ocean view or would you rather have the scintillating views of downtown LA with the wood burning fireplace?” You asked reading through the options of the luxury suites that were offered.

“Hm they both sound nice,” Dieter said mulling it over in his head, “where would you rather get eaten out? In front of the fireplace or on the edge of the jacuzzi tub?”

Neither, you thought to yourself. Your boyfriend that you’ve been dating for the last few months didn’t really like eating you out and wasn’t all that good at it.

“It’s the middle of June,” you pointed out, “it’s too hot for a fire. But then again knowing you and Lola you’ll be all over that room before the nights over.”

“I know,” Dieter said with a small growl of anticipation in his voice as he palmed himself through his sweats thinking about it, “Fuck it, give me the jacuzzi ocean room.”

“You got it boss,” you said, selecting the room.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds were the clicking of the keyboard on your MacBook and Dieter’s low breathing. Once you finished all the bookings you said, “I’m forwarding your reservation and the tickets to your email.”

“Thanks,” Dieter muses and then mechanically says, “what are you doing this weekend?”

“Matt’s taking me to that new Italian place 7th St,” you responded.

“Oh so Matty Cakes finally decided to step up his game and take you someplace nicer than Wok n’ Roll?” Dieter teased.

“Hey I love Wok n’ Roll,” you pushed back, “And not everyone can afford a sunset dinner cruise for dinner. Some of us are just regular people instead of big superstar actors.”

“Urgh thank God I’m not one of those,” Dieter responded.

You and Dieter had been friends for nearly ten years now. You met for the first time at your drug dealer's house, the two of you happened to be buying cocaine at the same time. Honestly you don’t even really remember the details the first time you met. You had come to LA to try to be a dancer while also attending UCLA. You had spent most of your early twenties shamelessly partying, doing drugs to keep your energy up to dance, working as a bartender, and going to school. You hadn’t declared a major in anything, you had a long list of ideas of what you wanted to do but couldn't decide on any one thing.

You and Dieter would spend a year running into each other before you two really became friends. You ran into each other at your dealer's house, at the bar where you worked and even a few parties. At the time Dieter had been a smaller actor, getting a few small parts as a supporting cast in a few movies and a handful of appearances on Law and Order. You two would make small talk, giving life updates in between weeks or months of not seeing each other.

One thing was perfectly clear from the moment you met Dieter. He was absolutely handsome and he knew it and was a total slut. But despite that he never did hit on you. Albeit you had a different circle of friends and there was a never ending line of hot women that threw themselves at Dieter. He was also twelve years your senior which may have played a part in why he never hit on you.

Your life had come crashing down one night in October. When you had moved out to LA to attend school you already had a brother living out here. He had left your home town a few years back. He was the one that had convinced you to move out here and to apply for UCLA. Your brother was your best friend, you had been so mad when he announced that he was moving out to LA when you were still a teenager stuck at home.

Then everything went to shit. You had gotten a call from Cedar Sinai letting you know that Brandon had overdosed. You were beyond devastated and catatonic for months after that. You had stopped eating, gotten fired from the bar you worked at because you kept calling out and dropped out of classes because you couldn't keep up with the work anymore. You spent endless months in your tiny shitty apartment, only ever leaving for groceries. It was then and there that you had decided to quit. You flushed everything you had and never did any drugs since then.

Then about six months after Brandon’s death you were sitting at an Ihop at 3am. You needed to get out of your apartment after months of being a recluse and you only picked his Ihop because there was no one else in it. Then Dieter walked in alone and went to sit at the counter and ordered a coffee. You sat in the booth, minding your own business until Dieter saw you.

He exclaimed excitedly about how he hasn’t seen you in awhile. How he even went to the bar you worked at asking for you. Your drug dealer had told Dieter that it’d been months since he had seen you. You were surprised to hear this from the eccentric actor. However a few breaths in Dieter had picked up that something was wrong. He sat in the booth across from you, inquiring what happened.

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. You had told him everything that had happened. He stared at you with those damn puppy dog eyes and listened diligently. He was deeply sympathetic and kind to you that night. You had told him about how you were about to get kicked out of your apartment because you were behind on the rent and out of money. How you had considered moving back home.

Dieter had talked you out of it. He ended up getting you a job as his personal assistant and let you live in his guest house that was off the main house up on the hill in Sherman Oaks. He paid you well, even set you up with his therapist that apparently made house calls. His therapist would come visit Dieter at the main house and then send him to the guest house for you. You always gushed to Dieter about how you couldn't afford to live in Sherman Oaks and a therapist who made house calls. But Dieter insisted, that was the thing about Dieter. If you could get into his inner circle he was loyal to the death. You weren’t exactly sure how you got there but you did.

As the years had dawned on you two had developed a deep friendship. He never once attempted to hit on you which you kind of appreciated. You appreciated Dieter as a friend far more than a lover. That was the curious irony of Dieter, he was loyal to a fault but also went through lovers and girlfriends like you went through your socks. Dieter was far too chaotic for your tastes. It was entertaining to sit on the side lines and watch him make a total ass of himself. He also landed a few dream roles over the years and became a superstar and you were thankful that you got to play a part of that. He really was a brilliant actor and a good friend when he wasn’t being a pain in the ass.

Hours later you were standing in front of the mirror near the front door, putting on the finishing touches to your make up. Matt had texted you saying he was a few minutes away. You grabbed your light blue denim coat and threw it over your black dress and made your way out the guest house. The main house was attached to a long paved driveway that was about thirty feet away from the guest house. A black SUV was parked near the door, a man in a suit was opening the back passenger door.

Lola stepped out wearing a short white skirt with a red tank top with a deep V neck, her bleach blond hair was styled in big curls and an ostentatious diamond necklace laid gently between her tits. She had her face hidden behind big sunglasses and didn’t even give you a second glance. Dieter quickly appeared at the front door making his way down the front steps.

“Damn baby,” He said eyeing her up and down quickly, “You looking fuckin’ amazing.”

“Thank’s hun,” she said, throwing her arms around him as he came down to her.

Dieter immediately placed his hand on her ass as he kissed her deeply. Afterward he looked up at you.

“Damn little black dress tonight?” Dieter said, looking you over while he kept his hand on her Lola’s ass, “Matty Cakes finally getting lucky tonight?”

“You better not call him that when he gets here,” you shot him a warning look, “You know he hates it.”

“I know that's why I keep calling him that,” Dieter smirked playfully, “it’s funny to see him get all pissed.”

You couldn’t tell but you were pretty sure that Lola was rolling her eyes behind her Armani sunglasses.

“So did Dieter tell you that he’s taking me on a sunset cruise tonight?” She chimed in, running her hands up and down Dieters chest while keeping her eyes on you.

“Nope sounds romantic,” you smirked while Deiter looked down at his pleather shoes sheepishly.

“He really is,” Lola said, glancing between him and you, “and then we’re staying at the Marriott near the marina. He really is the sweetest.”

This was something Lola had done from the beginning. You could tell she was the jealous type, she always made a bit of a scene of staking her claim in Dieter in front of you. Despite the fact that you and Dieter had repeatedly told her you two were just friends, Lola still liked to dangle Dieter in front of your face like a shiny toy. Dieter always seemed to tune out whenever she did, he didn’t care for the drama that Lola always seemed to start.

“So where’s Matt taking you tonight? That tacky Chinese place down by the beach?” Lola questioned while still hanging off Dieter.

“Um no we’re going to that new Italian place that just opened up,” You replied trying to be civil.

“Oh I’ve been there so many times already,” Lola purred as if she were bored with the conversation, “word of advice if you wanna fit into that dress of your come summer order a salad. Their pasta dishes are huge.”

“Thanks Lola,” you nodded sarcastically, you were used to her many backhanded compliments.

“Alright well I’m bored,” Dieter said turning back in, “let’s go baby, I wanna go get on the boat already.”

He turned her around and slapped her ass as the two of them climbed into the SUV. As they were pulling out of the driveway Matt’s car drove up and pulled to a stop near you. You went to go get in until he turned the car off and got out.

”Hey, you ready to go?” You asked curiously as he got out.

“Actually we need to talk,” he said as he placed his arms on the hood of the car.

You felt your stomach flip at his words but also wasn’t surprised. In fact you were surprised by the fact that you weren’t surprised by what he was saying, “Okay.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t think this is working out for me.”

“Okay,” you said glumly, “why?”

“I just can’t stop thinking about what you had said last time you were over at my apartment when we were watching that movie,” he went on to explain.

“What I said when?” You said trying to rack your brain that night.

“What you said after I finally got you to go down on me,” Matt stated, “about how you used to have a reputation for giving the best blowjobs at UCLA.”

“It was a joke Matt,” you replied with feeling your anger build, “I told you the actual story behind it. It was a stupid rumor that went around my dorm building but everyone knew the truth, they were saying that about me ironically.”

The truth was that you had been blowing this guy you were seeing but you were so drunk that you had ended up puking mid job. It was definitely not funny at the time and embarrassing as hell but over the years you’ve learned to not take life too seriously and it was a little funny now looking back on it. You were young and dumb and luckily made it through those days relatively in one piece.

“Really? Because Travis has been asking me a lot of questions about you lately,” Matt continued on, “he asked me if your reputation still holds up and if I’d be willing to share you with him.”

“What?” You asked shocked, “what the fuck, why would he ask you that?”

“Have you been flirting with him?” Matt questioned.

“No,” you shot back, “he DM’d that one night at like 3 am and sent me a dick pic which I told you about by the way and I blocked him after that.”

“Well now I’ve been hearing from all my friends that they all wanna bone you and I don’t like it,” Matt ranted on, “and now they all know about your UCLA dorm reputation of being a slut and now they wont stop asking me about it.”

“How did they hear that story?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Huh?”

“How’d they hear that story?” You repeat yourself, “I only told you that story because you’re the one who brought up embarrassing stories after telling me yours. Did you tell them?”

“Look it doesn’t matter how they know,” Matt redirected, “the point is that I don’t want a hoe for a girlfriend and no one’s that good at giving head unless there’s some truth to it.”

“Oh so that’s what this is about?” You asked amused, “so you liked the head I gave you?”

“Well not anymore because now I’m just wondering how many other guys' dicks you’ve had in your mouth and now I’m just grossed out,” Matt said, throwing his hands up, “and I don’t need to hear it from my friends or whatever other dudes you’ve had.”

You stood there in a stunned silence as he got back into his car and drove out the driveway to the gate. Did you just get dumped for being too good at giving head? There’s no way. You didn’t believe that was the real reason, sure you may be alright at it but you didn’t think that you were extraordinarily talented at it or anything. But you could tell from the beginning that Matt’s friends were all douchebags and Matt kind of was too. You wanted to give him a fair chance but you weren’t very attached to him, you didn't even really care that you had just gotten dumped you were just surprised that you were.

Well fuck it, you thought to your self. You had been looking forward to going to that Italian restaurant. Even if it meant going alone and eating a whole damn bowl of pasta by yourself, you’d find a way to have a good evening.

*******************************************************************************

You sipped the red wine from your glass slowly, scrolling on instagram mindlessly. You had blocked Matt and all his douchebag friends. An empty bowl of Alfredo mushroom pasta laid next to you. It had been delicious and well worth the trip. The restaurant was definitely one of sophistication and romance. You had tried to ignore all the couples or families that were out together. You ended up not being able to get a table without having to wait forty five minutes so you opted for the bar. It did you better anyways because then you could have your back to everyone around you and try to ignore the sting of being out alone on a Friday night.

Then out of nowhere a familiar voice came from behind you, “this seat taken?”

Before you even had a chance to respond Dieter slid into the chair next to you. He had his sunglasses on and avoided your gaze, he was rubbing his temple in discomfort.

“What are you doing here?” You question him, “I thought you and Lola were gonna have a cunilingis party in your jacuzzi tub.”

“Yep we didn’t make it that far,” Dieter confessed and got the bartender's attention, “crown whiskey please, neat.”

The bartender nodded and turned to get a tumbler glass.

“Where’s Matty cakes?” Dieter asks, still avoiding your gaze.

It’s only now with Dieter sitting besides you being aloof that you thought to really look at him. The side of his face was a little pinker than normal and there was a small cut on his cheek. You went to grab for his sunglasses, taking them off delicately. His eyes snapped at you with anger while you sighed frustratedly.

“Did she hit you again?” You say hushed toned.

“Well it’s not like I didn’t deserve it,” Dieter replied taking the sunglasses back from you and sliding them up his face, “she was being a bitch, I was being a dick. You know the same old story.”

“You still shouldn’t be allowing her to hit you,” You say sternly, “it’s not right.”

“Eh fuck it,” Dieter said shrugging, “it was more of a bitch slap anyways. I’ve had worse, besides the girls a total psycho. She’s out there throwing a temper tantrum because her rich lawyer boyfriend won’t shell out the $135,000 she needs to go to New York for fashion week.”

“And let me guess, instead she asked you for the money?” You asked unsurprised, taking a sip of wine.

“I would have done it if she didn’t have such a stick up her ass,” Dieter went on to explain, “we were on the dinner cruise and a group of women came up to me and asked for a selfie. She sat at the table and pouted the rest of dinner and before we even got the Marriott she blew up on me because she thought I was eye fucking those women that wanted the picture.”

You weren’t surprised, Lola was incredibly jealous of every other woman that was in Dieter’s vicinity. She had even tried to convince Dieter to kick you out of the guest house even though you and Dieter had always had set a boundary early on of not entering each other’s spaces without notice.

“I don't understand why you put up with her,” you grumbled, “yea she’s hot but there’s plenty of hot women that would line up for you. She’s a selfish manipulative gold digger who’s going to throw a toddler-like tantrum every time she doesn’t get her way. You could do much better.”

“But she’s the one that keeps coming back,” Dieter explained, “and besides when she is in the middle of her temper tantrums the sex is crazy good. We were in the lobby of the Marriott, I tried to off to take her upstairs to make her legs shake all the way to New York, she asked me if I’d give her the money and I made a joke about how she’s like my own personal Vivian Ward and she slapped me and left.”

You rolled your eyes, it sounded like a typical fight between the two of them.

“So where’s Matty Cakes?” Dieter asked now just noticing, “Why you sitting at a bar alone?”

“We’re done,” you said bluntly.

“Good for you!” Dieter said, placing his hand on your shoulder affectionately, “I was hoping you’d wise up and leave his sorry ass.”

“Oh you mean just like how I tell you all the time to forget about Lola?” You pointed out.

“Yeah but you’re a lot smarter than me,” Dieter retorted, “besides you definitely could do better than that ass hat.”

“I’m not sure how true that is,” you responded, swirling the wine in your glass around, “he broke up with me.”

“Why?” Dieter asked, looking over towards you behind the shades.

“Well first off I don’t believe what he said,” you began to explain, “I think he’s full of shit but I don’t know why he’d lie about it. Probably just has a stick up his ass too like Lola.”

“We ought to hook the two of them up,” Dieter responded.

“Please Matt can't afford her,” you retorted simply.

“So what did he say?” Dieter questioned further.

“He said that he’s pissed because a couple of his friends are into me a guess and he told them the story about how I used to have that reputation for giving the best at giving head at UCLA,” you started to explain.

“From that time you ralphed all over that guy when you were drunk?” Dieter questioned, recalling one of the many late night talks you two had over the years, “What did you puke all over him when you were going down on him tonight?”

“No,” you said flatly.

“Hm too bad,” Dieter replied, “he deserves it. So he's pissed that his boys are into you? That’s stupid, if that were me I’d just make it clear to my friends that you're mine and show you off like you deserve instead of being a little bitch about it.”

“You’d think so,” you agreed, “but he said that he agrees with my reputation and doesn’t want a girlfriend that’s too good at giving head because obviously that means that I’m a hoe.”

“Wait so he actually broke up with you for being too good at giving head?” Dieter asked with a furrowed brow. A few people around the restaurant started giving you two funny looks, but you were used to getting stares from Dieter’s blunt openness even in public, “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard! If you’re that good at it he should be on his knees begging for your mouth every night.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. You didn’t really think you were that good at and also agreed that it was a stupid thing to get dumped over. But there wasn’t enough attachment to Matt. You were getting sleepy off the wine, you were ready to put this day to rest.

“Was he good at going down on you?” Dieter continued to question.

“Not really,” you confessed, “he didn’t really like to do it. Even when we were dating I tried to tell him if he wouldn’t do it to me that I wouldn’t do it to him but he bitched, moaned and complained if i wouldn’t.”

“Jesus,” Dieter said, running his hands through his hair, “Alright let’s go back to the Marriott.”

“Go back to your hotel with you?” You asked surprised.

“C’mon,” Dieter said, standing from the bar and tossing a fifty dollar bill on the counter, “let’s drown our sorrows in Mary Jane and we can play scrabble all night.”

[jess-moloney-malarkey]

The hate blog’s conspiracy theory about Jess having stalked Jamie and their “proving” their claim by showing a photo of her sitting behind Jamie and his at-that-time girlfriend at a fashion show (when they ALL work in the fashion industry) and her liking Jamie’s ex’s instagram photos of him and said ex when they were dating are so hilarious.

Like, I don’t know what’s more hilarious, the possibility of the hate blog genuinely thinking they DID something or the possibility of the hate blog genuinely believing that that was the proof that Jess stalked him.

Like, people date and people break up and sometimes people start dating someone else whom they’ve met or friends with before. It’s so very COMMON. They proved nothing. And they still haven’t yet provided any explanation as to why, if Jess really did stalk him, she didn’t jump in RIGHT AFTER Jamie broke up with that ex whom they claimed was also stalked by Jess when she (the ex) and Jamie dated. They haven’t yet provided any explanation as to why Jess waited until Jamie dated Lily and Ruby and broke up with them first. Like, if Jess really stalked him like how they claimed, why waited until he dated at least 2 other women first before she went ahead and dated him?

And they resorted to either outright rudeness or silence when people questioned them about this. They often responded rudely to any question that doesn’t agree with them, even though those questions they responded weren’t rude at all.

They’re so hateful that I genuinely feel sorry for them. Claiming they “aren’t obsessed” with Jess and then making conspiracy theories AND YouTube videos about her is just sad.

I'm baffled as well honestly that one picture of them all at an event is a red flag and it's spiraled into this idea of stalking lol. God forbid three people who all work in/around the fashion industry show up at the same event. And even more god forbid they like some photos on Instagram from these people. And even more absolute god forbid two of them start dating after meeting years prior. Like the stalking thing is just a wild assertion in general, but even more so when you look at the "proof" given to support that.

But you're so right about how if this was really Jess's plan all along, and it was her goal to swoop in and get with Jamie, she had plenty opportunity way before Ruby.... if she's that conniving and manipulative, if she was really "stalking" him, she could have jumped on him after breaking up with Matilda... not even given him a chance to get back with Lily or get with Ruby at all.

And yeah, I can't believe they're making YouTube videos about this again. Like I said, literally spending more time on Jess than she seems to think any "Jess stan" would. I guess that keeps them distracted from the people who do point out the holes in their plot. :)

[taintedsoul-if]

What is wrong with the anon that asked for a selectable gender option for Cadmus?

Don't get me wrong, I don't think it's a bad thing for someone to want more flexibility. But he asked for it being openly homophobic and that being the only reason

That being said, I would like to say that I don't think it's really necessary to do a lot of extra routes just because one or two people are unhappy. People have partners that they later regret. You're literally not forcing anyone to date Cadmus in the future, but it seems like it's kind of important that we were married to him in the past. And there are other characters we can date in the future.

I don't know if with the "friendship route" you mean that instead of us being married to him we were good friends, and although I find it interesting, I think that would change too many scenes in the future. Not to mention that it seems that you already have many things planned that you would have to modify.

If it really was something you thought about doing before, do it. If it's just for that person, I'd recommend either not doing it or writing it as a bonus when you're done with the book, so you don't interrupt your current writing process.

Now, if you meant something else, I might have sounded very silly. But in the end my message of "don't change things for something only one person said" still stands. And more when that person is openly rude and intolerant. And that he probably didn't even read the demo or paid much attention to it considering he mistook Cadmus's name for the name of the country he rules.

PS: I love the way you write and I loved the demo, keep it up.

PS2: I used a translator, sorry if something was translated wrong

You see Anon. I grow up in a homophobic community. At a certain age I never knew what LGBTQ stand for but I did heard my father saying if any of his children came out as gay one day he would hang them to death/slit their throat. I was very depressed at that time and I couldn't help asking my father what those people ever did to harm them "straight people". My father responded. They're the ones that are responsible for most of the raping and kidnapping. I just shook my head at his small minded behaviour.

I just couldn't help myself. At that time my sister loved reading M/M romance. She was the one who pulled me down that rabbit hole and ever since then I never looked back. I do believe love has no gender. At the end of the day only one being can judge us for our sins. We as human beings have no right whatsoever to loathe, kill someone just because they're gay. They're human beings as well. With blood same as anyone else. I am just tired of small minded people. This world is not like it once was in the Victorian times where a man has to hide his lover behind close door in fear.

Cadmus has lived in my mind for years and he has always been a man. His dialogue would not sound right as a female. At the start of this book I never thought about Trysten/Trista and Nyssa/Nyala. But because I wanted my readers to not feel uncomfortable I decided to add two more romanceable npcs. I understand that most are uncomfortable with the fact that Cadmus is a man. But in the prologue did he do anything to your character? No he did not because I have a sense of measure. I understand he's the most interesting RO at this point because he's a madman. So most wants to get on this bandwagon. I also understand that there's going to be constructive criticisms.

I do understand all that. Reading that ask today made me rethink everything. Wondering if I should even continue my story because of those words. I couldn't help wondering how other readers felt. If they would dislike my story and not want to read it anymore. Everyone is a human being. I don't want anyone to come on my blog to spread hate about gay people. Everyone deserves love. It's not their fault they grew up loving the same gender.

People who makes it their main goal in life to antagonize gay people makes me wonder if they're a closet case and they're just jealous of the fact that Joe/John was brave enough to come out. I am a peaceful person. I do not believe in fighting unnecessarily. I came here to write and interact with mysterious people who genuinely liked my demo and wanted to gush about their crush on a certain RO! No more negative energy please.

Anon I'm sorry if I'm ranting to you. Reading your ask, I felt as if a dam opened up inside of me and I just couldn't hold back anymore.

Everything for Cadmus is already planned and I wanted to toss in the friend route because I didn't want anyone else to comment on the fact that they're not gay.

But what most don't understand is these interactive ifs are text based you control the story. There's always another way around. I have a favorite author that I love reading from and she had an RO that I did not like one bit. Instead of going on her page to complain I actually just avoided that romance route completely. Sometimes we can be the bigger person and not hamper down on others. I am already up to my neck with planning out my story. Learning coding. Reading books about the topic I want to write about. Trying to sleep at nights and eating on time.

I'll carry on as I have. I won't allow one ask to dampen my mood for my story. If it steers others off then that's just how it is. Cadmus is MALE and he'll remain that way.

It's insulting to forget the name of my character as well. It's very hurtful. I am not being rude. I am just being straightforward. Anon. 😭 thank you for listening to my long rant. And for giving me words of encouragement. I really appreciate it.

I am glad that you're enjoying the story so far! 🤗

[futuremercifulnerd]

Hey, heeheehee, you can read it here or on ao3 (registered user only for the sake of this one)

Kaaster shuffles around in circles, gloved hands gripping his hair tightly, pulling slightly, until suddenly his arms rip down to his side and he’s screaming ‘fuck’ at the top of his lungs, long and drawn out until his throat aches and constricts, face turned towards the endlessly blue sky and the blazing sun above. After all the air is out of his lungs he gasps for air as he topples to his knees, falling beneath the tall grass that covers the plains. His tears burn against his skin in unfamiliarity.

Aida watches him from her place a dozen feet away, bones aching and bruises already forming on her skin from the fall. The breeze that rustles the grass in waves also tousles her birds nest curls in unison. Her big gray eyes slowly drift from the place her armored friend once stood to the large mass of scales and muscle that lie a small distance away from him. There in wrecked mounds of earth and grass is the Wyvern they had just been riding not more than ten minutes ago, nothing more than a lifeless mess of blood and gnarled limbs after the fall, and a hole blasted right through its abdomen.

Slowly she makes her way to the giant lizard, the grass hindering her movement only slightly, and places both hands onto the enormous snout of the animal. Her head bows in respect and apology, her face scrunches just slightly in an emotion she isn’t quite sure of before shaking her head and pulling away, turning her attention back towards Kaaster. Quietly she stalks towards him, like a predator with prey, until she can finally wrap her arms around his back, and even through the metal of his armor she can feel him still. She has never seen him so broken, and her heart aches.

The two of him sit like this for a few moments, both unsure, Aida chews on her lips before softly saying, “I’m sorry, but we can’t stay here.” she tilts her head towards him and waits for a response before adding, “Kaaster, they’ll find us.”

A few minutes pass in silence while he wipes at his face, collecting himself, until finally he speaks out, voice hoarse form the screaming. “I know.” he nods his head as if in answer to some question. His armor clinks as he begins to stand and Aida lithely slides off his back as he does. He doesn't bother turning to face her and instead begins to look for his lost lance. Standing Kaaster is a whole head taller than her and she easily fits in his silhouette, and as she watches him pick up his weapon she feels whatever closeness that had gained over their journey died with the Wyvern.

All around them is nothing but a sea of grass for miles and miles, far off in the distance are the soft peaks of the mountains that separate them from their goal, and the only option they have now is to walk. The sun descends from its throne in the sky and turns it a fiery pink in its wake as it makes way for the moon.

After walking miles in silence through waist high grass, Aidas bare feet are beginning to scream in pain, the swords at her hips dig into her hips, and every inch of her body aches. “We need to stop.” she calls out, eyes tiredly staring at the marching suit of armor a few feet before her. “I’m tired.”

“No,” he replies as he continues onward, “we need to keep moving. It’s not safe out here.” Not once did his head even twitch to at least speak in her direction. His lance hangs limply from his hand and drags through the dirt in his wake.

Aida groans, “Nowhere is safe! It’s a big open field! There’s nowhere to go and walking until we pass out from exhaustion will not do us any favors.” When he doesn't respond she speeds up to close the gap between them, despite the pain in her feet. “We will be safer picking our beds. Look around us! The grass is tall enough to obscure our position enough to at least give us a chance to wake if anything were to happen.”

The only answer she receives is the sound of his armor as he continues walking.

“We will not be safe until we get home.”

A scoff bursts out from her throat, “Are you kidding me? What home? Are those slimy barrack walls you share with other riders really worth killing yourself over? You’re better than that and you know it, but you’ll never experience it if you fucking kill yourself hundreds of miles out!” When more than a few seconds pass in silence she halts and digs her heels into the earth and watches as he continues on. “Well I’m not walking anymore!”

He continues on.

“Kaaster?”

Further now.

“Kaaster!”

The sound of his armor clinks with each step and somehow the sound of it rings louder and louder in her ears the further away he gets, anger bubbles up within her until shes running towards him and jumping onto his back. “Talk to me you stupid hunk of metal!” Her full weight is only enough to make him stumble but he continues on and it frustrates her more. She starts yanking on him back and fourth, all while she screams in frustration, this boy lasts a moment before he shakes her off and continues on.

Aida lays in the grass after getting the wind knocked out of her from the fall, her body aching enough that she considers just laying there all night but shakes the thought away after remembering they were safer together. Slowly and agonizingly she stands back up and looks for him again in the grassy sea, calls out his name and starts running again to catch him. When she finally catches him again, she grabs his arm with both hands and yanks him around to look at her for the first time in hours, and whatever anger she had dissipates in a flash as soon as shes met with his dark eyes wet with tears as he bites his bloody lip to keep quiet. Before she can even finish whispering his name he’s turning away.

“Kaaster, stop!” She yanks him back around again, this time with a softness that betrays them both, and he crumples down to his knees for the second time today, dragging her down with him, and sobbing like a child. The sound of his cries stun her to silence, to see this ever stoic and strong Wyvern rider crushed beyond recognition shakes her faith in them both. He clings to her robes with a vice grip and cries into her neck for a long time before she embarrassingly remembers that her arms do in fact move, and slowly wraps them around his shoulder once more. “I’m sorry,” she whispers into his sweat slicked hair and the tears that prick at her own eyes surprise her as she repeats herself, over and over, until they’re both crying in each others arms. “I should have never asked you to join me, it’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” Without even thinking she kisses the top of his head in an act of tenderness entirely new to her.

His grip on her clothing tightens briefly before releasing as he drags himself up to look at her again, really look at her, for the first time in hours, and he shakes his head, “No, it’s not. You did not force me to make this journey with you, it’s not ones fault but my own. She was my Wyvern. She trusted me,” his voice breaks slightly, “and I failed her.” His eyes drop back to the grass, “I failed her.”

Aida watches him intently, head still drooping towards the grass, and slowly and shakily puts both hands on either side of his face, gently lifts his head and places a single soft kiss on his forehead. The entire time he is rigid in her hands. Their breathing is heavy and labored and time feels like it slows for them both as she places another kiss between his heavy brows. His eyes shut as she closes in on him and his expression is unreadable to her, one final tear drops down his face as he opens them again when she pulls back.

Something passes between them in the seconds they look into each others eyes and before anything could be said Kaaster is kissing her on the lips, rough from dehydration and his tongue wets them both as he flicks her lips in a silent desire for more. Aida, unsure, opens to him and soon finds herself drowning in his eagerness, but he pulls away with a breathless sigh and looks at her with eyes a mix of lust and sorrow, “Do we stop?” She can see him draw back in the time it takes her to think, everything is happening so fast, but the way he sits back and looks away nervously himself helps make her decision. Slowly and deliberately she drags one finger across his breastplate and finds satisfaction in how his eyes snap to watch.

Suddenly he felt more exposed than ever in her silence, “I’m sorry, we should’ve-” his armor clangs as he awkwardly pats his thighs but she quiets him with a single shake of her head, fiery red curls bouncing with the movement, and leans in to place a single chaste kiss on his lips. He finds himself drawn to her as she parts from him and his golden cheeks darken in a flush of embarrassment, something be desperately attempts to hide by ducking his head, completely missing that she moves to be seated behind him. Despite her small size, her presence feels massive behind him once he looks up to see her gone. The feelings is completely lost to him as she delicately drags her fingers across his armor in wonder before going for the first set of buckles to free him from his metal bindings. Once he realizes what she’s doing he chimes in, twisting as much as he can to look at her, “We don’t have time, I can just remove what is needed and-”

“I want to feel your skin against me.” Her movements never stop but his heart does and he gives her the tiniest of nods as he turns back to face the sea of grass around them and allow her to continue. Every piece shes removes is like peeling another layer of himself away, so many people have helped remove his armor before but never had the act left him feeling so exposed. Clumsily he paws at whatever he can remove himself, unwilling to let her do everything herself in fear of what that may do to himself.

Once every piece of armor is gone, each weapon set aside, the two of them sit face to face once again, sheltered in the tall grass and the dwindling sunlight struggles to light them in their grassy burrow. A smirk struggles to keep itself hidden behind her lips and fails when a giggle bursts out of her, something about the sweat stains on Kaasters clothing sheds the weight of everything that has happened to them over the last 48 hours and grounds her in this moment only. A grin breaks out on his own face before he throws himself at her and has her laying on her back in the grass, still a giggling mess. A kiss here, a kiss there, and it isn’t long before they both grow quiet again, his hand drifting down her chest as they stare into each others eyes. With an almost imperceptible nod of approval from her, he’s untying the knot of her robed top apart, slowly pushing it aside and soaking in the sight of her barren chest before removing his own top. Her breath hitches at the sight of his toned stomach as if she’d never seen it before.

Something has changed between them forever.

Aida rips at the leather strip that serves as a belt around her waist while she uselessly kicks her pants away to god knows where, and Kaaster laughs above her while he moves to remove his own. It’s not long before the pair of them are on each other like a pair of animals, nails clawing into one another as hips ground into each other in impatience. While one muscled arm propped himself up by her head, the other snakes its way between both of their moving bodies and finds itself at her core, and she moans into his mouth as his thick fingers begin to play with her clit.

By the time he sits back on his heels again she is a writhing and mewling mess beneath him, shorter blades of grass caught in her curls, dirt caked onto her skin and mixes with the darkening bruises on her body, and the sight of the dripping mess between her legs makes his cock twitch. One lazy stroke is all it receives, despite the way how her small breasts bounce when her whole body twitches at the sight of him touching himself makes him feel. “Ready?” The cool steadiness of his voice is a stark contrast to the heaviness of his breathing, the lust behind his hooded eyes.

And the tiny shy shake of her head does nothing to hide her eagerness.

Carefully he lines himself with her, briefly prodding at her teasingly before both of their patience has evaporated completely and he’s burying himself within her completely. The sensation of her around him, so warm and slick and tight, has him moaning instantly. And the way he fills her so completely has her back arching and hands gripping the grass around her tightly before ripping it right out of the earth.

It’s not long before Aida begins to grow impatient, not that every move Kaaster made wasn’t the most amazing thing she had ever felt, but the sliver of daylight left in the sky was almost completely gone, they would need to sleep sooner rather than later. But more selfishly she thought about how she wouldn’t be able to see his toned golden body and sweat sheened skin anymore, not in the way she was seeing it now. With a swiftness that he was still unused to, she’s pushing him until he’s the one sprawled in the grass with his lanky form atop him, grinding slowly at first as she gets her bearings, while he is stuck between moaning and chuckling beneath her.

The way her ringlet curls drape around her face and shoulders looks like a halo of fire, he thinks, and before the sorrow for his lost Wyvern can take him again she’s dragging his hands up to her breasts, each one fitting perfectly within his hands. It’s not long before he sits himself up and hungrily takes her into his mouth.

Each lazy thrust he makes beneath her as he preoccupies himself with sucking each of her nipples is like a drug to her, spurning her on even more until her movements are too much for him to keep up with. He leans back with one arm for support and watches her, her head thrown back in ecstasy, and his gaze drifts down to where the two of them meet and moans at the sight, his free hand quickly finds itself palming at her thigh as it travels towards their place of meeting. The way his thumb circles around her clit with the perfect pressure tears a moan out of her that is well worth it to him the danger it might bring.

The pair of them lose themselves in each other as their movements get more erratic and hungry, nothing but a gaggle of limbs and sweat as they fight for their respective ends, and the first to lose the battle is Aida. Her entire body stiffens right before a wave of pleasure she’d never felt before washes over her and her hips grind lazily into the man below her as she rides it out, the way his thumb still plays with her most sensitive bud is almost overwhelming and she swats him away without even looking his way. His head thuds into the grass as he lays back again, focusing on his own end now, and it doesn’t take long with the way she convulses around him. Unlike her loud undoing, he bites his lip and suffocates the moan in the back of his throat as his hands grip her thighs with bruising force as he spends himself inside her.

Once all movements have finally stopped, she slips from her perch on his lap and lays next to him in the grass, both of them pretending as if they weren’t desperate for air. When she looks back up at the sky its now a dark blue, and every second that passes a new star pops into existence until every inch of the atmosphere is littered with them. “I’m sorry,” Kaasters voice breaks through the silence, joining the crickets, and the speed her head turns to look at him makes him chuckle before his face slips back into its usually intense state, “I’ve misplaced too much emotion here, with you, and I will make up for this mistake.” The stars never leave his gaze. “I’ll make up for all of it.”

Her attention never leaves him as she takes his hand into hers and places a single kiss onto his knuckles, “It’ll be okay.” She doesn't understand the tear that drifts down the side of his face but she knew, in this moment, that it was true. They would be okay.

Slowly she wraps herself around his arm and cuddles into his side.

Would it be weird to write spicy fanfic of my own OCs lol

[benevolentcalamity]

Rescue Mission [Yautja (AKA Predator) x Female!Reader]

I have NEVER done this before and I have never seen a movie aside from Aliens vs Predator. So that means, ah, prepare for the biggest lack of knowledge you’ve probably ever seen.

Ahem.

This story's gotten too long, so I'll be splitting it into two parts. Perhaps a third extra if demanded. Hehe...

CURTAINS!

The mission was a simple one: Just find the Queen’s carcass and destroy any eggs you can find. After all, the ultimate goal here is saving Earth from the Xenomorphs — a tragic leftover of the Nostromo — and any other critters lurking about. Being still young even fresh from the academy, you embarked along likeminded soldiers, veteran or no, among this admittedly menacing adventure. With nothing but your wits, guns, and a mountain of luck to be obtained, you along with a newfound friend set out on recon.

Which, exposition aside, brings you here. Pushing through some withering flora, your boots squelch in the earth as the towering black mass comes into view. A smell like rotting insects, charcoal, and dumpster sewage wrapped in a nice little bow assails your nostrils, and you take a moment to not vomit the MRE you had just earlier.

”Urgh, what a stench!” Your partner gags. “She’s been dead for a good while, huh?”

”Smells like it,” You agree, daring to approach first. The collapsed egg sac is foreboding, you expecting a Xenomorph or worse to shoot out. Pulling out your shotgun, you quickly put a few rounds in and aim at some still intact eggs. “Fire in the hole.”

”Wouldn’t a grenade be better for this?” She asks.

”I’d rather use them when I’m sure we’ll need them,” You respond as she walks up, surveying the sac as well but staying back.

Taking a few shots, you scrunch your nose up- “Hm?”

Looking back into the rainforest, you purse your lips, squinting as the plants seem to move, the air being oddly breezy. Cautiously loading a few more rounds you creep towards it, prepared to aim and fire quicker than you had to all this time. More rustles, more movement, but nothing spectacular... Even so you keep your shotgun raised.

”What’s up, [Name]?” Your partner asks, equally wary.

”I hear something.” After a few moments of this you huff, lowering your gun. “Well that’s a waste.” Turning halfway, you tilt your head to ask a question- “OOF!”

Something rushes up behind you, colliding hard into your back and knocking you down. Before you can speedily roll over and stand, her screams erupt into your ears. Despite the wind being knocked straight out of your sails you manage to stand, and the sight awaiting you is one you never thought would be.

A Xenomorph.

It’s squaring off with her, leaping from side to side as you’re forced to duck out of the way of her shots. Her’s are frightened and desperate, but she has the experience to not let it obscure her. Despite your confidence in this fact you hardly grace her with a shot of your own, and with a good hit to the creature’s torso its green blood shoots from it and onto her leg. On impact a sharp hiss tears through the air, and in seconds you smell blood. Her screams growing more intense she collapses, the gun knocked from her hand as it leaps past her, knocking you back down. Colliding hard with a downed tree, cracks resounding through your back, your energy is sapped.

”Get up!” You wheeze, eyes wide in horror as it bounds back over to her, pushing her completely down.

You try to move your arm, but there’s no feeling, and your leg can hardly twitch; blood is dripping from your forehead. Left with nothing but your sight and ears, your stomach twists and freezes as it bares its teeth, looming over her with murderous intent.

”NO!!!” You scream, before once it’s close enough to her face it pauses.

It goes deathly quiet, terror having stolen her voice and the Xenomorph growing increasingly curious. Dropping its head it sniffs either side of her neck, prompting her to stare up in confusion before it snorts. With one large hand it grips her, dragging her up and into the air as it stands properly. Desperately reaching for her weaponry she trembles, quivering fingers hopelessly falling short of reaching her arsenal.

”Put her down!” You demand, scared into silence when it roars at you in irritation.

Your heart sinks to your stomach as its free hand yanks her pants down, snapping her belt and suspenders. Sniffing the exposed grey underwear, it pauses again, raising its head to look at her properly. As if perfectly on cue she goes limp, fainted, head lolling back in the tired expression of primal fear.

Something grazes your cheek, shooting into the Xenomorph’s chest. Roaring in outrage it takes a look at you, then past you, before clutching her tightly to itself and running away. Managing to pull yourself together - the human body’s iPhone level resilience amazes you - you stand up, yelling her name and rushing after them.

Just as you’re past the carcass of the Queen, however, something grabs your arm. Whirling around in preparation to shoot, you pause once you see your assailant.

Remembering briefly those G.I Joe movies or Fallout games your dad drove you crazy with when your brother was in middle school, you could describe a cross between that damn cobra soldier or whatever and a super mutant. Except the helmet reflecting your confused expression is more like something you’d see from Star Trek. (Recalling these things isn’t voluntary.)

It... He? Shakes his head, pointing towards where the Xenomorph carried your friend off, before pointing at the Queen.

”What?” You ask, curious and upset. Clearly he’s trying to tell you something, but... “Wait, wait a second-! It was sniffing her before... Are you trying to tell me this has to do with the Queen?”

He nods once, gesturing to the egg sac after examining it.

... Shit.

”A queenless swarm of insects won’t survive very long...” You pull yourself from your thoughts. “This is nonsense! She could be in danger - I have to save her! Are you here to stop me?” You demand, putting his highly unearthly appearance aside.

For a moment he stares at you, before he startles you with a growl of sorts, turning back towards the carcass. Reaching a gloved hand up he speaks in a series of growls and grunts into his helmet (radio?). After a pause he nods, turning back towards you.

Swallowing, you stand strong as he approaches you, and once you gather your bearings you realize what he is.

He’s a Yautja, a race that had come to the aid of the researchers in the Arctic when a mission went awry and the Xenomorphs overwhelmed them. Only one of that team survived because of them - you’re still in contact with her to this day because you’re essentially facing the same dire peril at least once or twice in your life. She did give you the tip that these guys have a good side you want to stay on, and she also said she hoped to be able to support you on the field since her work was far from over.

Yautja - as you’ll call him for now - offers his hand for... a handshake? Deciding to just hurry this along and seal this alliance, you take it, firmly shaking his hand, his grip not threatening to break your arm but having the capability.

”You’re big, ain’tcha?“ You ask as he turns to lead where the Xenomorph ran off. “We’ll have her back before daybreak tomorrow.”

___

”I found something!”

Rushing over to some downed trees, you examine the area, breathing a soft sigh of relief.

There’s splintered wood from gunshots, and other parts where it’s clear something’s eaten through a particular tree. Aside from that there’s obvious signs of a struggle, from the scratch marks on the ground and some scraps of torn fabric.

“She must’ve came to when they arrived here,” You deduce. “[Redacted] may not be a high ranking soldier right now, but you can’t deny her shots hardly miss.”

Squatting down, you find some bullets - shells, actually. Freshly fired today, so you must have just barely missed them. Realizing this you purse your lips, getting up from your haunches. Clearly your partner isn’t far, but all of you only have so much time. Even now you’re worried she died soon after the scuffle.

Your lower lip wobbles slightly. What a terrible way to go, too...

Ignoring the bright glinting of the bullets you stand straight, grabbing your radio from your hip and holding down the communicator.

”Recon Unit A5, [Name] reporting, come in.” Your voice is louder and sharp - for having the budget you lot do these communicators really fucking suck.

”This is Johnson, what’s the sitrep?” Your leader asks.

”Queen is confirmed dead and eggsac is destroyed. However we confirm one Xenomorph still alive. It’s made off with [Redacted]; requesting permission to pursue and retrieve her.”

”Is there anyone else with you?”

Momentarily you glance at Yautja, who is simply examining the area further, sometimes shooting at things in the bushes.

”One Yautja, sir.”

”... Permission granted.“ The hesitance in his voice is thicker than molasses. “Notify immediately when you need backup.”

”Understood. Ending communication.”

Putting the radio back on your hip, you huff, cracking your back. The anxiety of getting to your partner in time weighs heavily on you, for sure, but you also need to consider your options and course of action very carefully if you want to ensure her survival and yours. Yautja might honestly be your best chance.

”’Ooman.”

You freeze up, body going cold for but a moment. After realizing there’s no one else around and no way that someone would just call you that, you turn very, very slowly toward Yautja.

”Did...” You tremble. “Did you just say ‘human’?”

”Hello,” He replies, shoulders bouncing with a chuckle when you yelp before his mandibles flare slightly. “Ooman. Listen carefully.”

Confusion wrinkling your brows you collect yourself, questions shooting to and fro in your brain.

“[Redacted] would have died immediately after losing her gun.” His accent reminds you briefly of some ancient warrior films and the sort you used to watch; sci-fi warrior races basically. “These creatures don’t show that mercy normally - her body certainly isn’t normal either.”

The scene of that Xenomorph sniffing her underwear flashes back into your memory, and your face blanches.

“Is it possible for other races to be Queens?” It’s a stupid, ridiculous, illogical question-

“It is.” He kneels down and examines some tracks. “... There’s a nest of them nearby. We’re to look for where they keep the Queen.”

With hands cold and trembling you adjust your suspenders, the dread of your partner surrounded by eggs and Xenomorphs creeping deeper and deeper into your stomach.

“We find eggs, we eventually find the Queen’s chamber, and where we find that, we find her.” Yautja briefly examines his weaponry. “We have a few days time before she’s fully assimilated. There will be too many of them if we take any longer. That one that took her was a scout, and it’ll take her back while the drones are waiting. Do you recall the laws of bees?”

“The job of the drones is-“ You cover your mouth as harsh vomit threatens to shoot out, swallowing- “mating with the Queen.”

“Precisely. And if she’s bred to that extent even your division will be overwhelmed. So unless you want to see your fellow ‘oomans turned to mincemeat, I suggest we make a beeline to the nest before that happens.” He reaches into his arsenal, switching out his guns. “Any questions?”

One immediately comes to mind. “... If you could speak the entire time why didn’t you tell me this when we met?”

He throws his head back, mandibles flaring in a laugh as his dreadlocks flourish. “You have the comprehensive skills to do what you have to even without directives. I’ve had my fill of testing those-“ Your eye twitching isn’t unnoticed- “and now we can focus on the task at hand.”

A brief moment of silence, before he crosses his arms.

“You also amuse me. Now, neither of us like being idle, so be ready to kill. You’re praised for being a good shot and a good recon soldier - don’t disappoint me.”

"... Well since we established that, I'm assuming you have a name to speak of." You purse your lips.

"You know about us, hm?" He takes a moment to crack his neck. "Wakate."

"I've met Yautja before." You actually have. "Not for very long, mind you. That was strictly over communications at the base; I've never met one in person."

"I see." He dons his helmet once more. "You'd best be ready now. The closer we are to the nest the more prone you'll be to infection."

"Yea, I know." Your tone isn't sarcastic. "... I just wish I knew why they'd take her when they subdued me that easy." Then a lightbulb goes off in your head, and as the pair of you begin following a trail of acid-eaten dirt and debris as well as human blood, you press the button on the communicator. "Recon Unit A5, [Name] reporting. Come in."

"What's the sitrep?" Johnson again.

"Do you happen to have [Redacted]'s files, Johnson?" You ask.

"Affirmative."

"Requesting permission to access her files upon successful completion of the mission."

"... Denied."

You jolt. "Excuse me?"

"[Redacted]'s information is strictly classified. Only the C.O and other higher-ups can view those files." Johnson takes a moment, before sighing through his nose. "Will that be all?"

"Affirmative. Ending communication." You release the button, close to throwing the communicator on the ground. "Damn!"

It's completely unlike them to hide things from you - even other soldiers in similar rank can view such files. [Redacted] doesn't have anything spectacular that'd set her apart from you... right? But if they feel the need to hide her from you, then there's something about her they're not telling you.

Or perhaps they just don't think they can trust you with the information.

"Whoa!!!" Reaching out, you grab Wakate's arm, pulling him back just as a black figure dashes by, the forewarning being the rustling of the nearby shrubbery. "... Sorry."

"I knew it was there." He sounds a bit irritated. "But I suppose you're wise; it didn't seem to notice us."

"We don't have time to get in random fights, especially with them." You keep your gun at ready regardless. "After we rescue [Redacted] we're going to give this place a clean sweep; a swarm without a queen won't survive. However, that doesn't mean they can be left alone still - any one of them can morph into a queen. Our only option is to rip them out root and stem."

"And you truly believe it's a viable course of action?" Wakate asks.

"If you have a better idea, I'm all ears." This isn't sarcasm either. "Nuking this entire fucking island isn't a guarantee. If they can survive the vacuum of space, they will not be destroyed easily."

You both pause, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes.

"And just so you know, I'm not dying to those things." You free one hand and hold it out, looking more like you're challenging him to an arm wrestle. "So let me ask you, Wakate - are you in, or are you out?"

You're wholly aware he does have the option of ditching you or standing in your way. Yautja do see themselves as the superior race, even with their respect towards humans' resourcefulness and craftiness. In terms of brute strength, speed, and technique, you'd gladly give them the overall win.

So you're pleasantly surprised when he snorts, his mandibles audibly touching under his helm, and takes your hand in a firm, respectful grip.

"Very well. Your resolve is clear - now you'd better hope you live up to it."

"Don't worry - I plan to."

[selenesheart]

something new || p.p.

word count: 1.0k

pairing: pansy parkinson x fem!reader

summary: pansy fingers you for the first time.

warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, a tiny bit of embarrassment, slight innocence kink if you squint.

—————

selfish, arrogant, bossy, cruel. people around often used this and many other words to describe pansy parkinson.

but what the others didn’t know was that when the slytherin girl was out of the world’s sight, she was the sweetest, funniest and most caring person you’ll ever meet.

ever since you met pansy, your life has been the best. your friends would often interrogate you, asking if she made you do it, a few of them were sure that the black haired girl had use a love spell on you.

you were sure that you liked her when one of her attempts of giving you a kiss in the cheek ended up being a peck in the corner of your lips. when she backed away, your face was burning, your whole body felt hot. without you knowing pansy looked back at you, smirking as she saw your sweaty forehead and red cheeks.

now, being a relationship with pansy was a roller coaster of emotions, taking dangerous decisions— at least for you— was part of her “fun”. going to get snacks at midnight, pulling pranks on your classmates, going on broom rides at random times in the morning to see the sunrise. you’ve never done any of those activities and more, you’ve “never had fun before” as she said to you a few weeks ago.

but what shocked her the most was when you told her that you’ve never really done anything sexual or anything including that topic after a game of truth or dare between us two. the reason you didn’t do such things was because you felt filthy and were nervous.

after hearing your answer, she made it her goal. to be the first one to pleasure you, ever. to make you feel so good. to make you whine and scream her name. to fucking destroy you one day. only if you gave her consent, that is.

after spending a little less than a month discussing the topic, you reached out to her and told her that you were ready. after checking multiple times if you were sure, pansy agreed.

that’s how you ended in her dorm, in front of a full length mirror, your naked reflection staring back at you. you felt comfortable knowing that pansy was behind you, stroking your back with her delicate fingers.

“open your legs, sweetheart” you heard pansy's whisper behind you. making eye contact with her through the mirror, you slowly opened you legs. you felt embarrassed, you didn’t really know what to do. pansy reached front and grabbed your hand, trying to make you more comfortable, and it worked.

soon, pansy’s hands were massaging your breasts, the new sensation making your breathing get heavier. the slytherin girl started kissing the left side of your neck, sucking, licking, all that while playing with your hard nipples.

her soft fingers worked their way down, until they hovered over your lower stomach. watching carefully every move she made, you got aroused. you didn’t exactly know what it was but they way you felt right at this moment, all of your body felt like it was on fire. you felt good.

pansy began massaging your clit after you told her to continue. with her free hand, she began to caress your soft thigh, widening your legs a bit more, so she could get a better view of your pretty little pussy.

with wide eyes, you watched as pansy dragged her fingers through your glistening folds. when she neared her way to your hole, you hips bucked.

“are you ready, love?” she whispered. nodding furiously, almost begging, you took a deep breath, mentally prepared for your girlfriend’s finger to enter you.

lips parted, legs widened more as one of pansy’s fingers entered your tight hole easily. then another finger. she began pumping her fingers in and out of you, while keeping the intense eye contact.

“tell me” she said sweetly “how does it feel?”. you felt all the blood in your body rush to your face after hearing her much intimate question. you were embarrassed, you weren’t sure how to respond but you also didn’t want to disappoint her.

“it— it feels—” you tried to make a sentence “it feels really uh— good, pans” your answer seemed to please her, because then she added a third finger. you felt like you were on cloud 9. your breath getting heavier by the second.

pansy was going on a animalistic speed, all you focus on was the way her fingers hit all the right places inside of you. the other hand that wasn’t inside of you, moved to you upper body and got a hold of your breast, toying with your nipple.

her hands were cold compared to your body’s temperature.

you couldn’t believe how good this felt. then, you felt a unfamiliar feeling in the lower part of your stomach. you began whimpering and squirming, and pansy knew that you were close to cumming.

“pansy, i’m— i feel tingly” you panted. “‘s all right hun, you’re doing so good” she responded, speeding her fingers once again. the hand, that once was massaging your chest, started circling your sensitive clit.

moans and whines were coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. the coil in your stomach exploded, coating the slytherin’s finger with your sweat cum. pansy slowed down her finger while riding you out of your high. you were on bliss.

with a heavy sight, you fixed your posture after pansy took her coated finger out of you, putting them inside of her mouth, humming at the taste.

after you dressed up, you turned to pansy with a smile on your face, once she saw you, she returned the smile, walking towards you. stopping right in front of you, pansy grabbed your sweaty face and kissed you lovingly.

[scarlettriot]

Mina Ashido Headcanons!

@jewel116 requested some headcanons of our Alien Queen and I am here to deliver!

Some of these also could be considered BakuSquad HCs, hope that's alright.

I also went ahead and included some Adult Mina and 18+ Mina Headcanons too. Both are below the cut and clearly stated. Warnings are posted at each header mark.

If anyone has any other requests, lemme know!

Basic Mina Headcanons

Warnings: It's as fluffy as her dang hair! (Swearing)

. Most definitely has ADHD! In class, she is constantly tapping her foot on bouncing her leg as a means of trying her best to keep focused.

. Has a collection of shirts that she has designated for sleep and loungewear because she's burned acid holes in them by accident. Sometimes she'll wear them to concerts and shows if the design is cool enough.

. Loves piggyback rides! Frequently will run and jump on the backs of the guys in the BakuSquad. Even Katsuki himself puts up with it after a while.

. While Katsuki is the 'mom' of the squad, Mina is the one everyone goes to when they need comfort. Denki will curl up in her lap after a long day, Eijiro frequently goes to her when his insecurities creep back in, Hanta shows up late at night and they talk in her room about nothing just because he doesn't want to be alone, and Katsuki, well, he shows up to her room, slams the door and complains for a solid half-hour after reading a particularly heartbreaking scene in a manga while she listens to every word and validates his feelings.

. Mina worries far more than people believe she does. Her bubbly, loud, personality usually masks it but she knows when people are lying to her about what's going on in their heads.

. Sitting properly in a chair physically bothers her. She'd much rather be hanging upside down off it.

. She lowkey likes that the boys get protective over her.

. Mina is the type of person who gets A LOT of random thoughts that pop up in her head and one of the few people who actually will engage with the sheer randomness of the ideas is Shoto. Not only does he engage, he comes up with his own! The two can talk for hours.

. Loves hosting 'spa parties' in the common area of the dorms, everyone is welcome to join.

. When road trips happen, she's making the playlists (technically, she and Kyoka switch off).

. Tries teaching Tenya, Izuku, and Shoto how to flirt. After a very embarrassing first hour, Shoto didn't learn a single thing, Izuku was only good at it when paired with Shoto and Tenya... Tenya had her SHOOK! Man has game and she made sure everyone knew!

. Has weekly meetings with Yuga where they drink tea and spill the tea.

. She is so damn ticklish. Hanta was teasing her one day, she warned him to stop, he received an elbow to the face for not listening.

. Tried to grow her hair out once but it didn't grow down... it grew OUT. Mina thought she rocked it, and she totally did but ended up having it cut back down so poor Tsyu could see in class.

. Wakes up early three days a week to practice her hand-to-hand combat with Eijiro. Mina wants to improve her technique and Eijiro needed to work on his mobility, it benefits them both.

. Just Dance is her favorite game, she dominates.

. Easily forms new interests.

. Won't admit it but she gets jealous super easily.

. Will be the first to attempt to throw hands for a friend! I HC she was picked on as a child for looking so different but it never really phased her too badly, she likes looking different but understands that not everyone thinks like she does. So, if someone were to say something about Mezo's facemask, she's stepping in to defend the guy without hesitation.

. Knows every TikTok dance EVER. If a new one comes out, she's mastered it by end of the day and her account is always up to date.

. (Popular idea but important to reinforce) Mina and Eijiro co-founded a club, Horn Buddies, specifically to make Eri feel more welcome. They take her on trips and group outings. The only horned person who's not allowed to join is Pony because she was rude as heck to Mezo.

. Mina gets extra competitive over board games.

. She can ice skate and roller skate like a champ.

. Mina is resilient, dedicated, and passionate. She has goals and the girl will achieve them.

Pro Hero - Adult Mina Headcanons

Warnings - Mentions of alcohol use and swearing

. Gets several tattoos and piercings.

. Starts a roller derby club with most of the girls from 1A.

. Loves going out to the hottest dance clubs just as much as she enjoys staying in and munching on take-out food with friends.

. The Horn Buddies club she formed with Eijiro has now expanded into regular society and both young heroes couldn't be more proud. Together they've formed a foundation that strives to help those with non-flashy, unconventional, or misunderstood quirks feel welcomed and loved.

. Does her best to shop small whenever she can. Mina wants to help her community in as many different ways as possible.

. Becomes a fashion icon for many small, just starting out, alternative clothing lines. They love her look and the standard she sets.

. Goes to fashion and runway shows with Momo on the regular. While Momo prefers buying right off the rack, Mina goes to thrift stores and buys items that are coming back into style.

. Does her best to stay in touch with her classmates. She really cherished the friendships she made and goes the extra mile to make sure everyone stays connected.

. Has told off Shoto's father. Sent the man an anonymous bag of flaming dog shit as well for making his son so damn stressed. Sorry, not sorry.

. As long as she isn't in the middle of a fight, Mina will always stop to take a photo with a fan or sign an autograph. In or out of costume, she doesn't care.

. In high school, Mina's room was always decked out for the holidays. She goes decoration crazy and it is always done well. But, now that she's an adult with that pro hero money and her own place, she's the best house on the block decorated for each and every holiday! Inside and out! Also throws holiday-themed parties.

. Got absolutely trashed with the BakuSquad one night and taught them all how to twerk. By the end of the lesson, she deemed Katsuki was the best of her students.

. Loves to drink. Is a lightweight. Katsuki and Eijiro have carried her home more times than they can count.

NSFW 18+ Mina HC Below - Minors DNI

Warnings: Drinking, rough sex, mentions of orgies, handcuffs, impact play, and praise kinks. Subtle sexual relations with BakuSquad, Jiro, Todoroki, and Ochaco.

. The Queen of stripteases and lap dances.

. If any of her friends are at a party or some event and they need a fake date, Mina is their go-to person. She's handsy. She's flirty. And has no problem with platonic make-outs.

. Always encourages kissing-themed games at parties. Seven Minutes in Heaven, Spin the Bottle, those sorts of games. Mina also loves to play cupid and has rigged a game or two to get people together.

. Has made out with every member of the BakuSquad at least once as well as Kyoka, Shoto, and Ochaco simply because she was curious.

. Has attempted to start an orgy with the BakuSquad before when intoxicated. Still mentions it in passing just in case they change their minds.

. Has gone further with Katsuki and Eijiro though. Maybe both at the same time once or twice or several times...

. Wonderfully filthy dirty talk. Can even make Katsuki blush.

. (A personal favorite of mine that was in a previous post) When they were first years, Eijiro asked innocently enough, to touch her horns. He was gentle but that didn't matter. Our poor girl was so damn flustered! Her face turned red bright, she felt hot, and she had to go take a very cold shower!

. Ei felt terrible about it. It took them both maturing for her to explain exactly why she reacted that way... and then asked him to do it again.

. Is likely to send NSFW texts and photos while people are indeed at work. She is a Pro Hero though so only certain people are allowed to have those photos. A scandal is the last thing she wants.

. Very good at communication and is not afraid to speak her mind about what she wants and needs out of a relationship and her sex life.

. Loud, very loud, very needy.

. Fuzzy handcuffs in every color she can think of and adores impact play.

. Let her know she's doing a good job, Mina responds well to praise.

. Big cuddler after sex. Wants to snuggle into you and more than likely take a nap.

[edna-skiffens]

The Best Medicine

Summary: You are in the hospital, but you can never sleep in hospitals. Good thing you have a very attractive night shift nurse who is willing to help out.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: hospitals, light med talk, bad medical writing, fluff

A/N: Please ignore the plot holes or the fact that this isn’t the most realistic and also I know this isn’t how discharge works at the hospital.. It’s called fiction for a reason, darling. Also, I left the reason the reader is in the hospital open ended bc some of us may have medical conditions/reasons that we can attach to this, but if not I tried to keep it vague enough on purpose so that you can imagine whatever. Also if you like Nurse!Tom and have requests for him lmk bc i’m happy to write for him.

Toss and turn. Toss and turn. The routine was getting old. This was your third night in the hospital and sleep just wasn’t coming to you.

Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Maybe it was the constant symphony of sounds and people passing in the hallway. Maybe it was because you weren’t at home in your own bed.

Maybe it was just because you were in the hospital.

You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of is that you weren’t falling asleep anytime soon.

Feeling another presence in the room, you looked from the ceiling to the doorway where you saw Tom, one of the night shift nurses, standing cautiously.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asked as he eased his way inside.

“Nope.”

“So no sleep again, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Sorry darling. Let’s go ahead and get these vitals over with.” He took your blood pressure, oxygen levels, temperature and wrote it down in your chart. Putting the clipboard back on its hook at the end of the bed, he looked up at your tired face. “Okay. So now about that sleep. What do you think will help?”

“Not being in the hospital.”

He chuckled lightly while walking back towards your bedside.

“I know. You hate it here. You’ve made that very clear and I try not to take too much offense to it.” You let out a slight laugh and held back the fact that he was the best part of this whole experience. He almost made it worth it. “I’m sorry we can’t give you any sleeping medication. Do you think it’ll help if I talk to you?”

“You mean tell me bedtime stories?” You couldn’t help but tease him at the adorable suggestion, though it sent a swarm of butterflies off in your stomach.

“I was thinking more like bore you ‘till you fell asleep. But whatever works.”

“You’re the nurse. If you think it’ll help.” You both sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Something unspoken floating in the air between you two.

“Well, I need to finish my round of vitals first. I’ll come check on you when I’m done and if you’re still up we’ll see about those stories.”

“I’ll be here.”

About fifteen or twenty minutes later you heard a light tap on your door followed by “Still awake?”

“Always.”

“You up for a chat?” Tom asked as he made his way to the stool then rolled slightly closer to your bed.

“Got nothing better to do.” You teased again.

“Okay. Well you should probably lay down.”

“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of story, huh?” His laugh was so beautiful and you were happy you were the cause of it.

“No.” He corrected in between laughs “The goal is to get you to sleep. So sitting up won’t help.”

“Right. Right.”

“Well.. anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”

“Why did you choose to become a nurse?”

“Ahhh. Good question. So I actually went to an art school.” You couldn’t help the brief expression of surprise that crossed your face. “I know. Shocking. I did training specifically in dance and gymnastics and I loved it.”

“Wait, so what happened?” You asked, turning on your side to face him more comfortably.

“Well one day we were rehearsing for a show and I fell. Ruined my knee. Had to do physical therapy for months. I tried to get back into it, but it just wasn’t the same. However, through that process I learned a lot about medicine and the health side of things. It really turned me on to it. And when my Plan A got a bit messed up I thought ‘hey, this could work’. So far it’s treated me pretty well.”

You smiled at Tom, admiring his passion for his career and the determination he had to keep pushing after his accident. You enjoyed hearing him talk about it too. If you didn’t know any better you would say it was helping you relax.

“My story that boring?”

“Obviously.”

“Your sarcasm has no end.”

“Oh… goodness.. you thought that was sarcasm?”

Tom only laughed and shook his head the way he often did with you.

You may just have been his patient and he may have just been your nurse, but you both bonded. He kept you company and gave you comfort. In return, you kept him entertained during the quiet night shifts.

“I’m not going to sleep. I'm just resting my eyes. But still listening.” You told him as you nestled further into the hospital bed, trying to find a position that would make it comfortable.

“Okay, darling.” He grinned at you.

“Tell me more. What kind of-” You had to stop to yawn, “What kind of art stuff did you do?”

“Oh. Well, I was in a few musicals. I really enjoyed dancing. I did ballet ever since I was young and I love the control I have over my body. The tricks I can do with gymnastics or the turns and leaps. I mean I can’t do them to that level anymore, but I try to stay active.” He glanced up and noticed you hadn’t moved, “Are you still with me?”

“Mhm.” You barely respond.

“Okay. Well it was a performing arts school so we really were trained in many areas. We had classes in acting, singing, dancing, all of it. It was a lot of fun and I met my best friends there.”

Tom began telling stories about his time at school. Before he knew it, he lost himself and track of time. He looked back at you, quiet and still.

“Y/N?” You were finally asleep. “Goodnight, darling.” He whispered as he gently made his exit.

Because Tom worked the night shift, you never saw him when you woke in the morning. Instead, Tanya, a sweet nurse that felt like a big sister, or Linda, Nurse Ratched in the flesh, came in for morning vitals and meds.

You counted down the days until your release. Life in the hospital was pretty uneventful with the limit on visitors and limited activity. There’s only so many sitcoms one can take in a given timespan. The only thing that you really looked forward to each night was when Tom clocked in.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Tom.” You would smile at each other.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Better. Ready to get out of here.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you are feeling better and still ready to jailbreak.” He smiled while writing something down on your chart. “They should be bringing up your dinner tray soon and then I’ll bring by your evening meds after that.”

“Okay.”

“If you need me you know what to do.” He called to you before walking out the door.

You were disappointed when Shelley brought your evening meds by later. She was a nice enough nurse. She just wasn’t Tom.

You’d grown accustomed to mainly having him as your nurse during the evening shift. At first you weren’t sure if it was coincidence or on purpose, but after a few nights of staying up and talking, you grew closer to him. You saw less of the other nursing staff and more of Tom.

You tried not to build anything up in your head. You were sure everything he was doing was in his job description and a part of being a good nurse.

He would sneak you extra pudding cups from the cafeteria and bring you an extra heated blanket because you could never stay warm. If you needed a new IV, he held your hand to ease the anxiety. He kept you company and made you feel less alone in such a sterile and intimidating place. And when he noticed you had trouble sleeping he chose to sit with you to help you fall asleep. You couldn’t help the butterflies that built in your stomach.

It became a sort of routine. He checked on you during evening vitals, even if someone else was doing them, and you were always still awake. He would then come and sit with you and chat for a bit, telling you different stories until you eventually fell asleep.

Some nights when you were extra restless he would help you walk the halls.

“The doctors have to see you’re stable enough before you can be discharged. Plus, maybe it’ll tire you out.” He suggested.

He would help get your IV pole ready so you could walk with it. He helped you into your slippers and eased you out of bed after passing you your robe.

Walking the hall slowly, Tom knew he had to remain professional, yet he found a few excuses to graze his hand across your back to ‘steady you’ when you turned corners or he thought you were looking tired.

“It might take me a while to get back to my usual jogs in the park, huh?” You laughed in spite of yourself.

“You’ll get there. Baby steps.” He encouraged, as you turned around the Nurse’s Station. You missed the faces the other night shift nurses were giving you both, but Tom was sure to subtly flick them off. “So, do you like running?” He asked as you headed back towards your room.

Throughout your late nights together, he told you of his three younger brothers and his dog named Tessa. You spoke about what you would do when you were out of hospital. He talked about his friends and flatmates and the adventures they had. He told you many stories, but each morning when you woke up he was clocked out and the day shift nurses were there.

Tonight was your last night. You’re set to be discharged tomorrow and while you are ecstatic to go home, you’re going to miss one thing about this place.

“I bet you’re too excited to sleep tonight. I don’t know if my stories will even help.” Tom said as he sat down next to you.

You smiled up to him sweetly.

“What are you looking forward to the most once you get out of here?”

“Sleeping in my own bed.”

“Well that’s no surprise.” Tom laughed, a contagious sound making you giggle as well. “Isn’t there anything you’ll miss about this place?”

“Yeah.” He smiled “There’s one thing.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“The pudding cups.”

“Ahh the pudding cups of course.” You giggled while fiddling with the IV line.

“They just don’t taste the same in the outside world.”

His smile grew wider as you giggled.

“No, but really. As much as I give this place grief and say I’m ready to get out of here - which I am,” You gave him a pointed look to which he held his hands up in mock surrender, fully believing you, “it hasn’t been too terribly awful I guess.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad we could make your stay not too terribly awful.. I guess.” He teased. “Do you have anything exciting to look forward to once you’re a free woman?”

“Nothing huge planned, really. The doctors did say to take it easy.”

“That’d be wise.”

“Yeah. I’ll just lay low for a while. My sister said she may try to come visit me though so that would be nice.”

“Oh that would be nice. She’s your older sister right?”

“Right. She moved away last year to be closer to her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Do you like him?”

“Sorry?”

“This boyfriend. Do you like him?”

“He’s alright, I suppose. He makes her happy.” Tom nodded along.

“And do you have a boyfriend that makes you happy?”

“N-No. No I don’t. Not at the moment.” You began fiddling with the IV cord again.

“No boyfriend or not a boyfriend that makes you happy?” He asked.

“Neither.”

“Well that’s a shame.” If the heart monitor was connected you would’ve been screwed. “I just mean someone needs to look after you once you get home. I hope this sister comes through for a visit. You’ve got to take it easy.”

“Oh I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will be.” He smiled.

“How has your shift been tonight? Busy?” You asked, fighting back a yawn.

“A bit busier than usual. There was a slight emergency earlier which is why Shelley handed out meds tonight. Sorry I didn’t come around.”

“It’s alright. I know you have other patients.”

“Yeah, but none like you.” You were sure he said that to all of his patients. After all, you’ve heard similar lines ever since you went to the pediatrician as a child. But it still gave you butterflies.

“Are you getting sleepy?”

“A little. But it’s okay.” He gave you a pointed look but continued to talk anyway. “It’s the last night. One final request for storytime. Make it a good one.”

You thought for a moment before asking your question.

“Do you ever wish that life turned out differently? That you never had your accident and you could’ve followed your dreams to be a dancer?” You asked while turning on your side and getting more comfortable.

“Sometimes. At least, I used to. But I think I’ve accepted it now. And I really can’t see myself doing anything but this.” You nodded taking in his answer “I look at it this way. If it wasn’t for my injury then I never would’ve changed my career path and found my love for medicine. I never would have made so many of the friends I’ve made or the memories I’ve made. I never would have met you.” He finishes with a sweet smile.

“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” You told him. “Be honest, are you a therapist during the day?” He laughed out loud.

“No. I’m not. I guess I’m a big believer in ‘everything happens for a reason’.” You nodded while covering a yawn.

“So I’ve been curious to ask you,” He began, “Do you usually have this much trouble sleeping? Because you can get help for that you know?” You smiled at him.

“What? I thought a night nurse talking to you was the cure?” Tom smirked and shook his head. “I’m kidding. No, I normally don’t. It’s just the stiff sheets and hospital sounds I think.”

“Darn hospital.” He rolled his eyes and joked. “So this time tomorrow you’ll be sound asleep in your own bed then?”

You knew it was meant to be a happy statement, but you were a little sad at the thought of not having any more late night chats with Tom.

“Yes. Thank God.” You forced a smile.

You felt another yawn coming and tried to hold it back. It was already past the usual time that you fell asleep.

Tom could tell you were exhausted so he launched into a story from nursing school, hoping to lull you to sleep.

You yawned your way through listening, trying to soak up every last moment with Tom. In the morning he wouldn’t be here. You’d leave and likely never see him again.

When he finished, your eyes were half open and he wondered how you were still awake. Or maybe why.

“Why are you fighting it? The point is to sleep. Give in.” He told you gently after another yawn.

You looked up at him, half asleep and rubbing your eyes, not finding the confidence to tell him the true reason you were trying to stay awake.

“I’m happy right now.”

He smiled down at you.

“I am too. But you need your sleep, darling.” You weren’t sure what to say and you didn’t have much energy left in you anyway. “How about this. I’ve probably been in here too long as it is. Let me go check in at the Nurse’s Station and then I’ll come back and check on you soon and see if you’re still awake okay?”

The thought that he was leaving gave you a sad feeling in your stomach. You tried to remind yourself that he was just your nurse. Nothing more.

“Okay.” You smiled at him, sleepily, while settling further into the bed.

He stood up and instead of walking towards the door he walked closer to you. He grabbed the thin, white hospital blanket and pulled it closer around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before he walked to the door.

“Tom?” You called out just before he opened it. He turned around with an expectant look, “Thanks for everything.”

Even though the room was dim you could see his smile.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

You don’t remember much after that. You don’t know if Tom came back to check on you. You just remember falling asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up the following morning it felt like any other morning in the hospital.

The hallways were much louder. Beeps, chatter, and phones were constant. The lights were brighter.

But you were quickly reminded that it wasn’t any other morning. You were going home today.

The door creaked open and Tanya, one of your regular daytime nurses, poked her head in.

“Oh good you’re up.” She made her way inside and over to the gloves. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. Thanks.” She gave you a smile, something hidden behind it.

“I’m sure.” She said quietly to herself. You gave her a questioning look. “Oh I just mean I’m sure you’re excited to get out of here.”

You nodded as she took your vitals one last time.

“Everything looks good. What do you say about getting this IV out?”

“I say that sounds amazing.”

She took it out and bandaged up your arm while informing you of how the morning would go.

“Dr. McCoy is making rounds now then he’ll be by soon to go over your discharge. You can get dressed whenever you’re ready. If you need help, buzz me. You’ll still have a breakfast tray come, but you don’t have to eat it.” She gave you a wink while taking off her gloves.

“Thanks Tanya.”

“Of course, sweetie. And in case I don’t see you before you go, you’ve been a wonderful patient. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at her as she left you to change into some leggings and a sweatshirt.

You were packing your remaining things into your bag when your doctor walked in.

“Y/N! How are we doing today?”

“We’re doing great because we’re going home.” You smiled while taking a seat to rest for a few minutes.

“I know you’re excited.” He laughed before explaining the conditions of your discharge. You had medicines to take, a follow up appointment, and strict instructions to rest for the next few weeks. After signing some forms he left you with a stack of papers. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah my neighbor should be here within an hour.”

“Sounds good. Don’t hesitate to call us or come back in if you have any trouble or questions.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

A few minutes after he left a nurse brought in your breakfast tray. There wasn’t much of a point for it but since your discharge wasn’t technically until 10:30 am you were still a patient during breakfast.

You took the pudding cup that you requested with every meal off the tray before sliding it away. Smiling to yourself, you tucked it away in your bag. All you had left to do was wait for 10:30.

Tanya came in to check on you again and told you to buzz the Nurse’s Station when you knew your ride was here. At 10:27 you had a text from your neighbor that they were out front in the pickup zone. So you hit the call button.

“Yes?” Linda, the scariest dayshift nurse, answered.

“Um hi. Tanya told me to buzz in when my ride was here so I could go down.”

“Okay we’ll be right in.”

Not even a minute later you heard your door open. Expecting to see Tanya or maybe even Linda you looked up.

An audible gasp left your lips when Tom stood in your doorway with a wheelchair.

“I hear someone needs a ride?” He smiled as he made his way closer to the bed.

“Tom. What are you still doing here?”

“I pulled a double.” You wanted to ask why, but decided against it. You were still in a little bit of shock from seeing him again. “If you’d rather I can go get Linda to walk you down?” He pointed back towards your door.

“No! No.. I’m just surprised s’all.”

“Well come on. I thought you’d be running out of this place once the clock hit 10:30.” Glancing up you saw it was now 10:34. Your neighbor is probably tired of waiting already.

You grabbed your discharge papers and reached for your bag when you heard, “I got it.” Smiling at him, you sat down in the wheelchair. Tom placed the bag around his shoulder and kicked the brakes off the chair. “Ready?” You nodded up at him.

He rolled you out of the room that felt so small for a final time. You passed the Nurse’s Station and waved bye to the staff. He turned by the elevators and when you looked up at him in question, he read your mind. Looked down at you he said, “We’re taking the staff elevators.”

When you made it there he hit the button, turning you around and backing you in once the doors opened. He hit the button for the Lobby and leaned up against the wall of the elevator, briefly glancing at you, as you rode down together.

“Well you made it. You’re a free woman.” He smiled shyly.

“Yippee.” He met your eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The dynamics felt different. It wasn’t like your late night talks together.

“Listen, Y/N.” Tom began as he stood up from the wall and faced you. He was about to continue when the elevator ding cut him off, signaling you had reached your destination.

Maybe that was what was different. You had reached your destination.

You had a fun time talking with Tom and entertaining each other when you were both up late at night. He was fun to get to know and you enjoyed having someone care for you. He was easy to banter with and certainly easy on the eyes. But your time at the hospital was up. You knew it would be eventually. You wanted it to be.

Tom was a nurse. He was just doing his job. He was helping take care of you. He was being nice. He was trying to make your stay more comfortable. There was nothing to read into.

Your time being his patient was up and your time with him was up.

You tried to remain realistic, but the sadness still crept up as he rolled you closer to the door.

Once outside, you saw your neighbor exit the car and wave you over. Tom steered in the direction and slowed before rolling to a stop and hitting the brake locks on the wheels.

“Hi, I’m Taylor.”

“Tom.” They shook hands as Tom passed off your bag for Taylor to put in the backseat.

“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it really has been a pleasure having you as a patient and getting to know you, Y/N.” Tom admitted as he walked around to face you. He grabbed the papers from your lap. “Take care of yourself, okay?” You had shared many smiles with Tom, but this one felt sadder.

“I will. Thank you for everything, Tom. I mean it.” You reached up and squeezed his hand. He gave you a light squeeze back while smiling down at you. Taylor returned from the backseat of the car and Tom turned to them.

“These are her important papers about follow up appointments, medications, what to do at home, all of that so please make sure she doesn’t lose any of them.” He emphasized the point.

“Got it. Thanks.” Taylor held onto the stack while Tom turned back to you.

“If I can’t handle a few papers on my own, then maybe I shouldn’t be going home yet, Tom.” You laughed.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure they made it home with you.” He walked closer. “You ready to get in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. He helped you up, supporting you just as a precaution. Once seated, you took a moment to catch your breath as you pulled the seatbelt down. He met your hand, taking it from you to buckle you in.

“You good?”

You nodded with a smile, “Just a little tired. No biggie.”

He looked you over before returning your smile, though his didn’t quite reach his eyes, “If you need us, call us. Otherwise go home and rest.”

This was it. This was goodbye.

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He shut the door. He walked back to the wheelchair, released the brake locks and headed inside. He looked back only when your car was driving away.

“Here’s those papers that are so important.” Taylor handed you the stack after they got in.

“Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks.” You felt them looking at you as they joined traffic.

“You sure? You sound like you feel awful.”

You try to remind yourself to forget the sweet and attractive nurse and start moving forward.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You decide to distract yourself by reading through your discharge paperwork, when something caught your eye. On top was a sticky note with the hospital’s letterhead. You were sure it wasn’t there before. Looking closer it read,

Y/N,

In case you need someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.

555-5555

P. S. I have a connection to some pretty good pudding cups too.

Tom

The smile that grew on your face was undeniable. All the feelings you suppressed came flooding in. He wasn’t just being nice. He actually liked you.

One thing you knew for sure was that even though you would be in your own bed tonight, you still would be up, talking to a very special nurse.

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