#he didn't leave out of cowardice

[allastoredeer]

Literally all I want for Season 2, or fanfics, is for VOX to use the fact that Alastor was wounded defending the hotel and disappeared and Charlie et all didn't even LOOK FOR HIM - not AGAINST Alastor but to try and get Alastor ON HIS SIDE. Cause you know for all his being obvious about how much he hates Alastor what he really wants is Alastor on his team, joining the Vees, being his friend (and maybe more) again, and if he sees a chance to get that he will jump on it.

Please, please, please. Vox has the footage, and from what we know, he hasn't released it to the public yet. I am so expecting him to hang it over Alastor's head and rub it in Alastor's face that no one went looking for him.

We also know that the Hazbin crew didn't see Alastor's fight, and as far as we know, they don't know the extent of his injuries either. When/if Vox does release that footage, I want that to be when they realize just how injured Alastor was.

He literally almost died and all they know is that he disappeared halfway through the battle. I'm so curious about what they think made Alastor to leave. If they knew he was super injured, I can't imagine Charlie would've left him to his own devices, or at the very least, she would've checked in on him from time to time.

So do they think he just upped and bailed on them? Do they think he abandoned the fight? Do they think he just fled like a coward the moment he was injured? As much as I make fun of Alastor for that fight, I don't think he fled out of cowardice.

I mean, he took a MASSIVE hit right across his chest. From the top side of his left shoulder all the way to the right side of his torso--almost to his hip. Look at how big his wound is!

Who wouldn't retreat after taking a hit like that? I'm pretty sure (aside from Sir Pentious getting holy blasted to ash) out of all the Hazbin crew, Alastor suffered the most damage from that fight.

Not only that, but the hit was deep enough that blood was dripping down Adam's guitar.

I'm not being dramatic. Go back and rewatch that scene. Alastor's blood was dripping down it. It wouldn't have gotten on Adam's guitar to that degree if the cut was only surface level.

Alastor wasn't just bleeding from his chest, but he was bleeding from his mouth too. Either slamming into the parapet made him bite his tongue, or he was coughing up blood.

And considering how many sparks and bits of light were coming off his cane (green light in particular, which is the color that highlights his abilities) it has obvious significance to his power.

And it was cut in half.

That is the face of a man going "ohhhh...I'm fucked."

Adam had the upper hand. Alastor was in no condition to keep fighting.

If he stayed, he would have died.

Him retreating was the logical thing to do.

AND NOBODY KNOWS THAT. Nobody but the Vee's.

When/if the Hazbin crew see that footage (or see the extent of the wound themselves) I hope they realize just how close Alastor was to dying and understand that he didn't leave the fight for no real reason. If they give him any flack for retreating or not taking Adam down, I want them to feel bad about it when they see why that was.

[vampiromano]

“do you want me in your life or not?”

GEE I DON'T FUCKING KNOW and neither does he he's pathetic

[violet-eng]

Fem!reader married to a Neuvillette who loves not her but someone else | NSFW 🔞 + 😢

In this one I'm going out on a limb, because I presume without any argument other than my own intuition, that Neuvillette and Focalors had a platonic relationship with feelings never confessed out of fear or genuine ignorance of them (like Violet Evergarden, yes). But you are Neuvillette's wife and so you will fall victim to his coldness when Focalors dies.

Includes NSFW with the reader and angst. Never mistreatment because Neuvi is a gentleman. NOTHING BETWEEN FOCALORS/FURINA AND NEUVI NONONO

⚠️ Warnings: established relationship between Neuvillette and reader, implied cheating, unloving and unprotected sex, pregnancy, sex during pregnancy, mentions of masturbation. Mentions of death. More sex between spouses bc yes.

mndi, if you feel unconfortable reading this then don't. Your mental health is first.

6k words, not edited.

💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️💧💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️

You had seen him crestfallen the last few weeks, after the flood, self-conscious in his own thoughts, drowning in his remorse and cowardice.

Neuvillette does not understand human feelings, not at all, though love is supposed to be a passion that transcends the natural laws of evolution. Focalors had been his friend, his companion, in the bruised body of a puppet that felt so real that its strings seemed invisible.

There was no denying the deep affection that had grown between the two, Neuvillette and Focalors, two wandering souls, roaming the world with ancestral antiquity, companions destined to the sound of agony and separation, haunted by the solemn ignorance of innocent creatures.

Love… what was it but a word in a spoken contract.

Neuvillette had married you months ago, a happy and superficially authentic marriage. You had captured his attention, and his knowledge of humans, as the Great Chief Justice, could be satiated by knowing you, a faithful human companion, devoted wife, and sublime lover.

The bed was the only moment where you two connected, where, to the rhythm of the waves, Neuvillette penetrated his marital responsibility towards your depths, that which he considered appropriate towards his so-called wife, who, in a frenzy of pleasure, crushed his pale back with her nails, set to music by the melodious moans he tore from your sweaty breast… There was no connection beyond the sexual, for as a dragon, despite the years, it is very difficult for him to connect with humans.

Focalors was an oceanid, and he was a dragon sovereign. Both turned human. Nothing more to add, two rulers abandoned by the world they were supposed to protect, what would grow between them but pure trust and admiration that would obviously develop into love?

Neuvillette didn't understand. Not until that moment. He had been deaf to his innocent heart pounding anxiously every time Focalors entered his office in her unruly human form, rampant in color and expression. He had been unaware of the flame of satisfaction in his chest that burned hot when she spoke to him in the privacy of their conversations in the theater…he did not understand, not until he understood that he would eventually lose her.

He cried, for the first time he let someone see him cry in his human form. Focalor's words, so exquisite before him, ethereal in her ornate louvered dress, echoed in his head…and in his heart… ….

"Hydrodragon, Hydrodragon… don't cry," she whispered… and he, very reluctant to leave her, wished with all his might to leap upon her, wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He would flee with her on his lap, in his draconic form, leaving Fontaine and everyone else to their fate.

No… a Sovereign would not do that… he would not do that… for to abandon his oath would deserve the most dastardly punishment of all. And maybe, just for thinking that, he deserved what happened next.

"Farewell, Neuvillette," her words, pure in his human form. His companion, his friend, his mentor… his soul mate, tossed away like the foam on the shore of a beach.

Death was a human concept, without transcendence over evolution… love, however, was another story.

He came home like a soldier after the war, he came back without a part of himself… he came back to his boring life married to a woman he doesn't even love, at least not the way you really deserve him.

"Darling," you offer him a glass of fresh spring water from Quiaoying Village, because you know he doesn't like anything else, especially in dark times like these, a glass of the freshest, coldest water suits him wonderfully.

He drinks from the glass, almost as stoic as ever, though his face is stiffer than usual. Routine is becoming overwhelming for both of you, and Neuvillette is suspiciously distant from you, more so than usual. You stroke his cheek while he sleeps to help him fall asleep, you make him breakfast in the mornings and serve him dinner when he comes home, all without so much as a hello.

You suspect the worst, because your friends have planted the idea in your head that Neuvillette has a mistress, and not far from the truth, his heart belongs to another.

After the flood, many had left Fontaine, and perhaps your husband's mistress was among them, or so you thought. How painful it had been for you to see him break for another woman, to see him crack at his most human for a heart that was not yours.

Overwhelmed, you write him a letter with the idea of leaving him and traveling to Sumeru with one of your friends in search of a new life, but everything is cut short when your symptoms begin. Pregnancy was imminent, after all the nights the Iudex had taken you into your bed, it was to be expected.

You receive Neuvillette that night, frustrated by your own doubts, debating between informing him of your condition or simply fleeing to new horizons with your child. It is so difficult to decide when your husband is the Iudex of Fontaine… and when you care about his reputation because you love him sincerely.

There is no need to search for words when your husband is a dragon with keen senses, for as soon as he set foot in the house, he sensed the scent of his brood stirring within you. The Iudex's interest, however, lay in whether or not you would confess to him.

"A package arrived for you this afternoon," Neuvillette comments as he sips the tea you prepared for him, pointing to a bag on the front table.

"Ah, yes," you say half-heartedly, taking the bag in your hands, emotions spilling from your chest as you crumple the paper between your fingers.

You sigh deeply, thinking that maybe this gift is your way of saying goodbye to him, of silently making amends and apologizing for something that is absolutely not your fault other than falling in love with the wrong man.

You take out of the bag an encyclopedia, a thick book with thick paste and yellow pages, brought from Sumeru, recommended by the very scribe of the Academya, a book of human anthropology for your dear strange husband, who seems to have a real interest in human behavior. Neuvillette looks at it as if it were a revelation, as incredulous as he is moved, touched by your gift and your attention to his interests. You try to say something, to tell him that you are pregnant, but you stop when you hear him speak.

"I know you're expecting my child," Neuvillette says, without going into the details of how he found out, touching the rim of the teacup, a wedding gift. "Whatever you need, tell me, health, food, you know I will cover all expenses."

"I want to go to Sumeru," you confess in an almost whispered tone, your words seeming to be carried away by the wind rushing through the window.

"That wouldn't be good," for a Hydro Dragon hatchling, of course it wouldn't. "You're too young to venture into a new nation, especially one with new leaders like Sumeru, not to mention the dry climate."

You don't argue, knowing he's right, and decide to simply retreat to your room and wallow in your defeat.

Neuvillette, however, with what little empathy he has generated, caresses the book with his fingertips, gliding over the fine markings carved into the cover.

A gift, he had never given you a gift before, but you had given him a gift by taking the initiative.

The months passed quickly. The precariousness of your relationship, increasingly dry on your part, provokes something in Neuvillette.

He looks at you from his side of the bed, the way you sleep peacefully with a swollen belly, carrying his little dragon without knowing it, without trying to get rid of it, loving it from the first moment. Neuvillette has seen you singing lullabies to your child these past few months, reading him stories while caressing your belly, telling him how much you want him to be born strong and healthy.

He's grateful for the deep affection you have for your child, so much so that he has tried to show it. Maybe what he read in the book worked, or maybe it is just a product of his new feelings for his wife, who is about to become a mother. He would do anything for your son to be born healthy and with a healthy mother.

He buys you fritters on the way home, from the store he found out you like best, courtesy of some Melusine, and sits next to you at the dinner table, trying to take an interest in your day and tell you about his, always aiming for your peace, a healthy heart would bring a healthy child.

His devotion is to the birth of your child, because that's what he tells himself. It's not that he was interested in you, of course not… it's not like he was surprised when you told him your clothes were too tight and you hated your new body, not when he likes to see your new figure when you lie next to him at night, with enlarged breasts and a round belly. He bought you new clothes, yes, by the boatload, but because that's what any husband would do.

He only appreciates you for being the mother of his child, it's not like his heart fluttered when he saw you helping some melusines with their problems, or coddling some baby of your friends, thinking what a wonderful mother you will soon be. It's not like h chest filled with pride when he saw you in the stores looking for maternity books and baby clothes, worrying about the weather and your child's health.

And it's definitely not like he's masturbating in his office, remembering the image of you undressing that morning to get into the tub, cutting the skin of your arms and breasts, moaning at the contact of the warm water against your body, and letting out a sigh of deep satisfaction.

That night, he comes home with the usual everyday gift, this time a box of macaroons, because he noticed that you were looking at them in the display case with great eagerness during the afternoon. And he sits down at the table with you, pours you a cup of tea and starts the conversation, even though he notices that you are much more tired than usual.

He carries you into the bedroom and helps you into your nightgown, taking the opportunity to caress your waist and back as he helps the fabric slide over your curves. And then he strokes your head to help you fall asleep, and without realizing it, he smiles as he sees you fast asleep next to him.

The birth is approaching and the strong pains make you desperate, confined to your room and reluctant to go out even to sunbathe. It was the midwife who unscrupulously suggested to Neuvillette that a little sexual activity would help you get through the contractions. And he, as devoted to his wife's health as any good husband, agrees.

You feel Neuvillette's cock thrust deep into you, deep into your velvety walls, soft and slow, not unlike what you've felt before. His hands rest on the sides of your head, his gaze fixed on his cock disappearing inside you, while you curl your legs at the delicious sensation of his thick appendage inside your pussy. He moves cautiously, sharply, trying not to hurt you, and as he pumps inside you, his gaze is lost on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts.

"Perfect," he whispers through his teeth, because in his eyes you are the perfect reservoir for his brood, yes, just that… he insists that you are simply his good companion, and pretends that he hasn't wanted to have you like this for weeks, under him, a mess between moans pinned to him as you cling to his arms.

"Monsieur~" you whimper, bringing a hand to your face to cover your expression, though he takes your wrist and looks at your face as if you were a treasure just discovered by a hungry, ambitious man.

When you reach your orgasm, he kisses you, for the first time during sex, Neuvillette kisses you, and even he surprises himself with his own actions. He washes your body and dresses you before you rest, now much calmer than before, sinking into your husband's chest as you fall asleep, ignoring the feelings that surface between the two of you.

When the child is born, Neuvillette is surprised to continue his affection for you. He did not fall into the same materialism as before, because now he recognized in the shared work of the novices how difficult it was to take care of a baby. It is he who washes the child because, to your surprise, he knows the strange need for fresh water that your baby requires at least twice a day. Neuvillette enjoys the laughter that you get from your child, and the way that he lifts his arms so that you can hold him and show him how well you are feeding him, he looks strong and healthy.

One day, as he was leaving the Opera Epiclese, he was distracted by the statue of the Focalors, but his attention was immediately drawn to the babbling exclamations of his son, who was waving in your arms near the fountain. How gratifying is that moment when his heart leaps with joy as he sees you holding his child.

The days have been sunny in Fontaine since your son was born, and to Neuvillette's relief, the bitter memories of his separation from the Focalors are just that, memories… past images that he does not cherish, as he knows humans do, not now that his being is entirely devoted to his mate and his brood. What kind of elixir have you become for him, that he can forget all his sorrows and his past loves?

Neuvillette spends hours in his office poring over the pages of the book you gave him months ago, highlighting this thing called melancholy, the longing for past situations and desires, and feeling sorry for those who feel it, because if it were a disease, he would call himself cured of this melancholy.

He finds it curious how you managed to get rid of all the gloomy feelings that plagued him, and even wonders if you are not some kind of sorceress… No, not you, not when you so devotedly cleanse your child and offer him a carefully prepared dinner, and practically put your heart and soul into every act of domesticity.

Focalors… her name and image sail through the ancient memories of Neuvillette's tattered mind, the smile of a woman he loved, now replaced by that of the one who lies beside him, coddling a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked child. Funny how in such a short time he had acquired such human habits as feeling part of a family he hadn't even planned to have.

Your relationship with Neuvillette, full of respect and admiration, help and companionship, seems to evolve into something more. You become his confidant, his mentor when he has doubts about human children or about the customs between parents and children. Involuntarily, he comes to you when he has questions, not to a library, for despite your young mortal age, you know much more than books could ever give him.

You are patient with his ignorance and loving when he is wrong. Mutual and pure respect, absolute devotion and admiration. Neuvillette doesn't believe you are human, how can you be human with so many virtues… his curiosity grows and changes, so much so that he counts the hours in court to come home and chat with you while you nurse his child.

He returns home that night with new doubts, because he has seen strange devices for children without understanding their usefulness, called fun. Can they have fun by themselves? Aren't they too young for that?…oh, and he brings a storybook, because he understands that made-up stories are interesting for babies, even if they don't understand much of the language.

He goes to the baby's room with an enthusiasm he doesn't know he has, and stops at the door when he hears you soothing your baby's cry with sweet words.

"Hydro-Dragon, Hydro-Dragon, don't cry," you murmur as you caress your child's cheek and try to feed him.

Your child is frantically breastfeeding, his tears fading as he closes his bright purple eyes, his little hands clenched into fists and his nose twitching. Neuvillette watches the whole scene from the doorway, his heart in his throat and his feelings on his skin. Those words that broke his soul so long ago now seem to put the pieces of his shattered existence back together.

He smiles, a melancholy, self-satisfied smile. And he looks at you, he looks at you with devotion, because you have finally made him understand what he feels and has felt for so many months. His devoted wife, as patient as she is charming… seems wiser and more skillful than any scholar.

Leaving your child in its cradle, you straighten your neck and turn to Neuvillette, who has entered the room.

"What a beautiful book," you murmur, picking it up, "the baby will love it.

Neuvillette watches you with one hand on the crib that protects his baby, then watches his son sleep, wrinkling his nose the way you do when you sleep.

"You must be exhausted," he whispers, stroking your arm and leading you out of the baby's room.

"Not at all," you smile, "the child fills me with vitality."

"So… Hydro Dragon," Neuvillette recalls the words you said to his baby.

"I said it when I was a girl, like everyone else in Fontaine, it was an idea that came to me suddenly," you answer, and he smiles at your expression, thinking that maybe he heard you when you were a girl, maybe you were one of the many children who recited the same words when it rained in Fontaine.

"I have to tell you something," Neuvillette says, his voice lacking authority, more like a prayer. You watch him from the kitchen.

"'Tell me.

Focalors, Neuvillette, Furina, Fontaine's hydrodragon, the flood, his never-confessed love… he tells you everything because he understands that you deserve the truth, and that he doesn't deserve you because you're too understanding of his confession. It is as if this conversation has cleared up all your doubts, and you have finally seen the real Neuvillette, who fully trusts you to know what to do with this information.

Neuvillette believes that you will ask him for a divorce and leave him alone with his son, but he is surprised to find you preparing breakfast the next morning with your child tied to your leg while you both laugh.

He does not deserve you, definitely not, for he is perhaps the most despicable man in Fontaine and all of Teyvat. To think of another while he is married, to take his wife with him in a grief that is not hers, to bind her to him forever by impregnating her… how mean he must have been, and how understanding you become as his selfishness grows.

He hugs you from behind, buries his face in your neck, inhales your scent and clings to your waist. He begs for forgiveness countless times, and you feel that he may have already shed a few tears on your shoulder, because the sky suddenly begins to cloud over.

"There's nothing to forgive," you whisper, stroking his head, "we can't choose who we fall in love with."

He looks at you in disbelief, wondering in what book he would find such an accurate statement. You had fallen in love with him, and he finally understands, for you are both victims of the disorderly course of love, so messy in its actions, indifferent to those it hurts.

He thinks about your words as he sits in his office, as he looks at the framed photograph he has of you holding his son, and wonders when he fell into the trap of the reckless love that humans call it.

The name of the Focalors does not mean anything to him anymore, even less when he sees Lady Furina in boutiques or restaurants… surely a memory has finally become just that, a memory. His heart is now the prey of another person, his wife, the mother of his son.

Neuvillette understands that there is a difference between soul mates, first love, and true love. The connection with Focalors had been imminent years ago, as both were unaware of the actions of the society in which they had become intruders, but they were nothing more than that, accomplices in a game of masks and power, the first experience of mutual affection and trust. Focalors was his soulmate, yes, because she understood firsthand everything he experienced, but being a living part of her theater did not feel authentic.

With you, however, Neuvillette had learned to be a part of his people, whether as a human or a dragon, as Chief Justice or as the father of an infant. He was no longer an intruder or a stranger ignorant of human ways, not after you. At your side, Neuvillette had known a new range of sensations, of experiences and learning based on mistakes, all very human on his part, and as expected, he had learned to fall in love again, because it was inevitable, after several problems and misunderstandings between the two of you, after the birth of his son and the new horizons that fatherhood brought. His affection for you had been disguised as admiration and redemption, his ignorance had once again avoided love, a mistake he wanted to make up for.

Sitting in your living room while he reads a book and you braid his hair and hum a lullaby, Neuvillette lets the waves of your voice carry him away, wondering what kind of marital experiences he had missed with you.

"What kind of things do husbands do?" He asks suddenly, looking up at you from the carpeted floor, surprising you with his curious question.

"Well…" you think, it's not like when he asks you why kids suck their thumbs or why people give each other presents on non-holidays. It's not a question about trivial human behavior, not this time.

"I've seen couples go out to dinner, but you told me that friends also go out to dinner," he continues, elaborating on his puzzle. "Wriothesley and I have had tea together, what would be the difference between having tea with him and with you?"

"Well…" you continue to think about your answer. "Perhaps the most obvious is living together, planning the week together, household and food expenses, child care, and confidentiality between the two. When you and I have tea, we talk about things that you probably don't mention to Wriothesley".

" Certainly," he says with a hand on his chin, "you and I do all those things, but how is that different from students who share a house? They also plan expenses and discuss confidences."

"Then I guess the biggest difference is in starting a family. Normally, people get married because they want to have a family with the person they choose, the person they love, or the person their parents impose on them."

"So sex is what differentiates married people," he says, and you remain static at his words, stopping to braid his hair, "of course… the physical and emotional affection shown by both parties in marriage…" Neuvillette rambles on, his own conclusion as he sits on the couch next to you, thinking about how he hasn't shown his affection the way he should.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, you are distracted by the details of your skirt, picking out rebellious threads, and then he thinks about the last time he kissed you and wonders what it would be like to kiss someone with marital affection.

"Can I kiss you?" The question is thrown out with innocence, causing surprise in you.

"You've kissed me before, Neuvillette," you say, smiling and getting up to go into the kitchen, "we even have a son, I don't think there's anything new to try."

"Indeed," he says, getting up and walking toward you, your back against one of the walls, "but the variable that makes this situation different from the others is that I didn't feel that way about you."

"Like what?" you ask, as he moves closer to you, almost cornering you against the wall.

"I like thinking about you, being with you, hearing you talk," he says, his tone low, as if he were ashamed to confess everything to you. "I thought it was a simple instinct to care for you as the mother of my child… but now I know it's something deeper than that."

You look at him in surprise, now it is you who has unknowns that only he can answer. The silence between you is cold and almost tactile.

"What about her? Of the Archon," you whisper, your breath depending on the question, Neuvillette's forehead inches from yours.

"It's not the same. There is no excitement or desire. I never longed for her or desired her like you. She didn't provoke me the way you did, it's almost annoying."

"Am I annoying? "Is that what she's telling me, Judge?" You smile as you touch the tip of his nose, trying to take some of the seriousness out of the conversation.

"You are adorably hypnotic, I must say. More than you should be. You have taken everything from me without me even realizing it, subtly and carefully taking over my mind and my heart," Neuvillette's hands caress your cheek, high above your skin, avoiding friction as if his touch would bruise your flawless complexion.

"Let me show you these human feelings that have taken over me, please," he whispers, his thumb sliding over your lower lip. He says it almost like a complaint, his bursting emotions becoming painful, trapped in his chest, longing for you to give him comfort and permission to act.

"I'll let you… only if you promise me something," you say, taking his hand, avoiding the marks of his fingers on you. "You will never push me aside for another woman again…"

His oath needs no words, not when he has you leaning against the kitchen table, his cock pushing behind you to your cervix. Your muffled moans as he adjusts your skirt over your waist and spreads your legs further to give him free access to your pussy, which sucks him contemptuously.

Neuvillette feels like a fantasy, thrusting relentlessly into you, touching the bulge that has formed in your belly from the penetration of his cock, pushing with his hand so you can feel it better, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you. . He kisses your cheek and you hear his muffled moans against your ear as he utters words of worship.

You grip the marble edge of the table, moaning at the burning building in your belly, your eyes glassy and spit falling from your mouth. It's as if your legs were lifeless, as if you were prey to Neuvillette and the way he drives his love for you so deep that it seems to stir your womb.

That afternoon he takes you in the kitchen, and the next morning he doesn't let you get out of bed, one hand on the headboard and the other around your waist, Neuvillette has you with your ass up like a dog in heat, hitting your slippery with his length. The strength that his support gives you is hard to bear, your breasts trembling strongly as your ass bounces to his rhythm, your skin moving like waves in the sea with each vibration that Neuvillette's relentless interference causes.

His hand slides down your body, caressing your breasts and down to your clit, your face buried in the pillows, almost crying at how good his fingers feel on your nervous lump. He fills you with his seed when he reaches orgasm, because he is dying to see you again with your belly swollen for his offspring. And he kisses you again, he kisses your forehead while you catch your breath, while you cover your body that has been bruised by his fingers, defining the lustful path of his digits over your body.

In his office, he remembers the past hours with fanciful lust and longs to return home to enjoy this new activity that you have made him experience, this new addiction that your body represents against his. He longs for your company and your warmth, your voice moaning with pleasure and the way your nails dig into his back. He adores everything about you, not only because you are the mother of his child, but because he finally understands, after several months of reading and reflection, that he has truly fallen in love with you, his precious human wife.

[tired-teacher-blog]

Virgin Pro hero Deku who -despite being a little over thirty- is still clueless as to how he should speak or act around girls.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who is unable to maintain a steady relationship or even keep one going for over a couple of weeks because it never feels right.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who doesn't believe in casual hookups like one night stands, even with the countless admirers throwing themselves at his feet.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who's a hopeless romantic, spends most of his free time fantasizing about a perfect future with the perfect woman and building scenarios after scenarios of the happy life he dreams of having. Only, he can never assign a face to his perfect lady because he is yet to encounter her.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who wishes to one day have a kid of his own, a thought that often visits him but leaves a bitter aftertaste behind, as he is nowhere near it.

Virgin Pro hero Deku whose mind went completely blank for a millisecond before spiraling out of control the moment he saw you as he found himself inexplicably drawn to you, and his pathetic state only worsened since he didn't know how to properly approach you.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who spent weeks following you from afar, has finally found the face to his once faceless perfect woman.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who is a total klutz, was unaware of your eyes following him back, nor of the shy smile appearing on your face everytime you sensed him nearby.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who could not muster up the courage to talk to you, almost passed out the day you spoke to him for the first time.

Virgin Pro hero Deku whose palms became clammy and throat became dry— the moment you stood face to face with him, only nodded to your suggestion for a cup of coffee together as he did not trust his voice around you yet.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who soon came to realize that a mere glance from you is more lethal than the deadliest of villains he encounters daily.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who was certain you are the one for him the moment you laced your fingers with his and pulled him closer for a shy kiss goodnight as you both stood on your doorstep.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who kept smiling like a fool afterwards because the feeling of your lips against his own was addictive, he wanted more but was too shy to ask, regretting his cowardice the moment you walked into your house and closed the door behind you.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who rewinded that moment in his head all night long as he laid down in bed, still smiling while tracing his lips with his fingers and wishing you were there with him.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who couldn't believe his ears when the words "I love you" left your lips one evening, so casually, with a giggle following suit. He grabbed your hands and stared into your soul as he wordlessly anticipated to hear it again, and he did.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who stood nervously before you, eyes roaming your luscious curves while watching eagerly as your dress slid down your body and hit his bedroom's floor, fully exposing you to him.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who was lost at that moment between his burning desire for you, and an extreme embarrassment for the throbbing bulge he could not conceal behind his palms.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who dug deep inside his mind for any distraction that could keep him from cumming hard in his boxers as you dragged him to bed with you.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who moaned loudly against your neck while feeling the softness of your velvety walls for the first time in his life.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who refused to cum before guiding you to your own release, the hardest test he lived through as the overwhelming pleasure you both experienced was too much to resist, it was addictive and irresistible, keeping you both awake all night long as you explored ech other's bodies until you no longer could move a muscle, gasping for air and holding onto the other firmly, unfazed by the sticky mess connecting you together.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who's always been grateful you were his first, is now certain you'll be his last as he blissfully watched you walk down the aisle..

Divider by: @/cafekitsune

[pickingupmymercedes]

When hating you was all I wanted 3/3 - Lewis Hamilton

A special trilogy part of 1K Jukebox Event

Longer than I care to admit (pt.1) | Even when I said I didn't (pt.2) | When hating you was all I wanted (pt.3).

song: Ruin my life - Zara Larsson (it's not on the jukebox but I heard it and I knew it was the perfect one to tie up the other two songs together)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

a/n: shout out to those who read Ways to say "I love you", there's a special nod to one of the prompts

wordcount: +2k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The overlapping announcements, rolling luggage, and hurried footsteps are chaotic on their own right.

But I can barely hear it over the frantic pounding of my heart.

I don’t know how I got here. My hands still tremble from grabbing my keys, slipping into my shoes, and bolting out of the apartment like my life depended on it.

Maybe it does.

Each step is a struggle against the tide of people flowing in every direction but mine. My lungs burn as I push forward, my mind looping the same damning mantra over and over:

You’re too late. He’s gone. You’ve lost him.

The flight notification had burned into my mind the moment I saw it, a flashing reminder of the time I don’t have.

Forty-five minutes until takeoff. Thirty-five if they’re boarding now.

The logical part of me knows this is reckless.

Security is probably already eyeing me, suspicious of the girl darting through terminals like she’s in a spy movie. I should stop.

Think. Breathe.

But logic doesn’t matter when you’re running for your heart.

My hand shakes as I clutch my phone, the unanswered calls mocking me on the screen.

“Come on, Lewis,” I whisper, desperation threading my voice. Another call, another ring that leads straight to voicemail. “Pick up. Please.”

The last word cracks like a plea, lost in the cacophony around me.

I hate airports. I hate how cold they feel, how big and impersonal they are. How easy it is to lose someone in the endless sea of faces.

But most of all, I hate how every passing second feels like one more nail in the coffin of my cowardice.

You let him leave. You let him leave because you couldn’t say what he needed to hear to stay.

My chest tightens, the weight of my own mistakes mixed with the lack of oxygen. My heart racing with something I couldn’t tell if was desperation or a panic attack

I glance at the departure board. Flight 238. LAX to JFK, already boarding.

My stomach twists into knots as the words flash on the screen.

He’s leaving. He’s really leaving.

I weave through the throngs of people, scanning every face, every figure.

None of them are his.

My chest aches with every breath, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my soul. The memory of his face before he left keeps playing in my head like a broken record.

The resignation. The quiet heartbreak. The way his shoulders sagged as if carrying the weight of every unspoken word between us.

I didn’t think it would hurt this much. I didn’t think I’d miss him before he even left.

But I do.

I miss him more than I thought I could.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The way he said it still cuts deeper than I expected, the pain raw and unyielding.

“The difference is everything, Y/n.”

He was right. The difference is everything. And I chose wrong. I chose fear. I chose safety.

But none of that feels safe now. Not when every breath feels like it’s crushing me. Not when the thought of him leaving makes me feel like I’m suffocating.

My mind is a battlefield of fear and hope, every thought slamming into me with relentless force.

You can’t let him leave like this.

The thought of him on that plane, of losing him for good.

I fumble with my phone again, my vision blurring as I type out a message.

Y/n: Lewis, please. Just call me. I need to talk to you.

Y/n: I’m sorry. For everything. Just… please don’t leave like this.

The words stare back at me, mocking in their simplicity. I hate how weak they make me feel, how small.

But I hit send anyway. It’s the only thing I can do.

Minutes pass. Still nothing.

I make it back to the main terminal, scanning frantically for the gate. The flight number blinks mockingly at me.

Final boarding.

My stomach lurches. My sneakers slap against the polished floor as I break into a run. People turning to stare, but I don’t care.

I reach the VIP gate just as they announce the last call. My chest heaves as I lean against the counter, gasping for breath.

“Did the NYC flight just close?” I manage to ask. The attendant looks up, startled by my urgency.

“Yes, ma’am,” she says.

My heart leaps into my throat. “Lewis Hamilton,” I blurt. “Is he still here?”

She hesitates, her professional mask faltering for just a moment. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t disclose that information.”

But her hesitation is enough.

I spin on my heel, my pulse roaring in my ears. My eyes scanning the hallway from the private lounge, and then I see him.

Lewis.

He’s standing off to the side, his back to me, his carry-on slung over one shoulder, his phone nowhere in sight.

He looks calm, collected, every inch the man the world knows as Lewis Hamilton.

He’s waiting. For what, I don’t know. And for whom, I can only pray.

My breath catches, my chest tightening painfully.

Say something, Y/n.

But the words stick in my throat, my legs frozen in place. He looks so composed, so untouchable, and for a moment, the fear overwhelms me.

What if he doesn’t want to hear it? What if you’ve already ruined everything?

Then he starts to move, his long strides taking him closer to the gate.

No.

The realization slams into me like a freight train, and I stumble, my momentum faltering.

“I love you!”

The words burst out of me before I can stop them, my voice cracking under the strain of desperation. Raw and desperate, cutting through the noise of the terminal.

People turning to stare, the sound echoing in the space.

My heart skips a beat as his head turns, his eyes wide and filled with confusion. For a moment, he’s frozen, his carry-on slipping from his shoulder as if the weight of my confession is too much to bear.

I don’t wait for him to process it.

I run.

Security be damned, people be damned—nothing matters except getting to him.

“I love you, Lewis!” I scream again, my voice breaking on his name.

And then his eyes meet mine.

The distance between us shrinks, my steps faltering as I finally reach him. His eyes are wide, stunned, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

And then time seems to stop.

“I have loved you for longer than I care to admit. I have not stopped loving you, even when I said I didn’t. Even when hating you was all I wanted.”

The words are spilling out now, unstoppable.

Within arm’s reach, I take a deep breath before continue, my chest heaving as I search his face. “Even when I was too scared to say it,” I whisper, my voice barely audible now. “Especially then.”

His eyes search mine, their intensity almost unbearable.

“Y/n…” he breathes, his voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

His gaze locks on mine, searching, waiting, giving me time to catch up to the enormity of what I’ve just done.

His hands hover near mine, hesitant, cautious, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he moves too quickly.

I don’t take his hand though.

I can’t.

I need so much more.

So, I reach for the back of his neck, my fingers caressing the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

His skin warm under my touch, grounding me in a way nothing else can.

His gaze flickers between my eyes and my mouth, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief.

“I love you” I whisper, the words finally spilling out like a confession. “I’ve always loved you.”

The air between us crackles with tension, the kind that pulls you in and refuses to let go.

And then, as if on instinct, his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

The kiss is everything and nothing like I expected.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like he’s testing the waters, but when I respond, it shifts.

It’s heat and longing and every unspoken word we never said, all wrapped up in his lips moving against mine.

His hands anchor me to him, one at the small of my back, the other on my jaw.

I can feel the stubble on his beard, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the salt of my tears.

It’s overwhelming, consuming, and I never want it to end.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breaths coming in uneven gasps that match my own.

“I can’t keep leaving you behind” he says, his voice rough with emotion.

“You won’t have to” I reply, my hands still cradling his face. “Not anymore.”

His eyes search mine, and for the first time, I see something I never thought I deserved—relief.

And love.

“I’m going to ruin your life, you know?!” I murmur against his lips, a shaky laugh escaping me.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes soft. “As long as you’re in it, I don’t care.” he whispers, his voice full of intent.

The sound of distant murmurs pulls us back to reality. People are staring now, phones raised, whispers spreading like wildfire.

Lewis glances around, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well,” he says, his tone dry, “now we really can’t go back on this.”

I laugh softly, resting my forehead against his. “No,” I whisper. “We can’t.”

Before I can say more, security approaches, their expressions a mix of exasperation and recognition. “Mr. Hamilton, Miss…” one of them starts, clearly trying to maintain professionalism despite the chaos.

Lewis tightens his hold on me, his smile turning playful. “Looks like we’re causing a scene.”

I can’t help but laugh, my heart feeling lighter than it has in weeks as he responds. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise as we're scorted back to the vip lounge. “Let’s go figure this out”

And none of it matters.

But him.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not running away.

I’m running towards him.

Towards us.

"Okay, so I gotta ask," I say, glancing around the sleek but surprisingly compact space. “This is the glamorous life of an F1 WAG? I thought there’d be… I don’t know, more gold-plated chandeliers or something.”

Lewis snorts, looking up from the kitchenette where he’s fiddling with a cup of tea. “You were expecting a palace on wheels?” He saunters over, his grin equal parts amused and smug. “Sorry to disappoint, princess.”

I stretch out on the plush sofa—a truly luxurious thing to have in a motorhome, to be quite honest.

“Honestly? I thought I’d at least get a jacuzzi”

“Jacuzzi?” He raises an eyebrow, setting the tea down on the small table before climbing onto the sofa beside me. “You’ve got me. Isn’t that enough?”

I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. “Barely.”

“Barely, huh?” He leans over me, bracing himself on his elbows so that his body hovers just above mine.

His scent—clean, warm, and uniquely Lewis—envelops me, making the space feel small.

“You want out already?” he asks, his voice low, teasing, but with just enough vulnerability underneath to make my chest ache.

“Never,” I whisper, my fingers sliding up to tangle softly in his necklace. “You’re stuck with me now.”

His lips twitch, his eyes softening in that way that always undoes me. “Good.”

I pull him down, meeting him halfway for a kiss that’s slow and tender, the kind that feels like home.

His weight settles over me, grounding me, and for a moment, everything else fades—the race, the world outside, the chaos of the past few days.

It’s just us.

“You’re terrible at pretending you don’t want me, you know” he murmurs against my lips, his tone playful.

“I wasn’t pretending” I counter, though we both know it’s a lie. “I was… confused.”

“Confused,” he echoes, kissing the corner of my mouth. “You sure about that?”

I laugh softly, threading my fingers through his hair. “Positive. Now shut up and kiss me again, Hamilton.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His lips crash into mine, and this time, there’s nothing slow about it.

It’s all heat and need, his hands finding my waist as he presses me further into the cushions.

And in a motorhome, surrounded by the hum of a f1 paddock outside, I finally realize something.

It doesn’t matter where we are—whether it’s a cramped motorhome, a five-star hotel, or the middle of an airport.

As long as it’s with him, it’s exactly where I’m meant to be.

My decision of a lifetime, one that after that day I'd make every day, over and over.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

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@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay @thesizzler

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[yuri-is-online]

Me, listening to video's like "Underwater cave diving gone wrong" late at night: Hmmmm, Nature photographer Yuu bumping into the Octatrio years after NRC hoping to document the Coral Sea and their generous Senpai's being all too quick to "escort" them around.

Is this anything? It's pretty late here and I'm very tired...

It's several somethings~

Inevitable yandere set up where they were always obsessed with you, but kidnapping you while at school was just too difficult. You were surrounded by too many powerful mages, but now you are all alone and willing to trust your weak, human self to your strong dependable senpais. If you "accidentally" get hurt while swimming around there's no need to be shy, they'll take such good care of you you'll never want to leave <3 promise

On a more normal note, maybe you dated for a little bit while you were at school, but when those fourth year internships hit you broke things off because you assumed he was just having a bit of fun with you. Floyd's the first one that comes to mind for this... he was so mad and hurt he didn't think to run after you and clear things up. He wanted little shrimpy to chase after him... he's full of regrets about that now and Jade thinks it's really stupid of him to offer to guide you around the Coral Sea when he's not at all interested in just being friends. But it's so easy to fall into your old dynamic, c'mon can't you see you made a mistake? It's like you never broke up how sweet he is on you the entire time you're there.

That sort of set up works for Azul too but with 10x the angst. He actually hates you just a little bit for rejecting him that easily, how could you after he trusted you with his mind, body, and soul? He's determined to prove that you made a mistake and rub his success in your face but it falls a bit flat when his entire body is shaking as he sobs. Why did you leave him? Please just tell him you always hated him- hearing your doubts hurt even worse in a way he doesn't understand. What do you mean he could have had you this entire time if he had just reached out... is it too late to do that now? Is it too much to ask for you to reach for him?

Jade is more of an enigma. He's been in love with you all this time but his reputation kept him from fully forming a connection... his cowardice leaves him satisfied with your friendship until you're in his home and he can't hide how he glows at the smallest instance of your praise. Still he tries to play things cool, this is a fortunate reunion prefect, wouldn't you say? A chance to spark a mutually beneficial relationship. How bold of you to read between the lines and suggest he would mingle business and pleasure, he's a consummate professional he'd have you know. He lives to serve, just say the words~

Or something I suppose x-x

[thatmexisaurusrex]

I think what really gets me is what the show is telling us through that breakup. That's what hurts the most.

It's that a queer person who's sad, who's alone, who's never had a stable family life; a queer person who's only gotten to a point where they're happy with who they are later in life; a queer person who yearns for a family, for love, for being someone's first choice but doesn't believe he can ever have those things; a queer person who has obviously been burned and believes that is the only outcome for him now; that no one would want him as family. That no one would love him enough to choose him first.

He walks out that door.

Alone. Scared. Spiraling. Reacting to trauma rather than Buck himself. It's seeing that and having the show tell us, yes, that's what he deserves. That's all he gets. He doesn't get a happy ending. He doesn't get good closure. He doesn't get to believe that someone wants him enough to fight for him.

Tommy was right all along.

All his fears were true and will be what he ends up with. Older queer people who want families and are scarred by their own past experiences don't get love or a family. They don't get a place to call home.

Then, you have Buck; Buck blindsided by the trauma; Buck seeing his entire six-month relationship fall apart and just letting it happen to himself again. Having yet another person in his life, in a moment of cowardice and pain, quietly and brokenly lash out that he couldn't believe Buck would actually take this seriously; that he couldn't believe that Buck would love him once the pedestal was gone and the shininess wore off. That, once again, Buck lets his relationship play out without any idea of how to be active in it. That someone Buck loves, that he thought about possibly marriage with one day, that he wants to live with, leaves him.

That Buck, once again, is abandoned.

That Buck can't know himself.

That the show wants to lean into lazy biphobic ideas and tell us, yes, that's what Buck deserves. The thriving relationship that he had crumbles within minutes because Buck doesn't get to be happy; how can he know what happiness is if he isn't playing the field? Because nothing he did before Tommy counted. Buck 1.0 didn't count. None of his previous relationships counted. Because they were all ladies, and how can you know if you've only been with one man?

Telling the audience that you can't be happy in a relationship if it's somehow a "first", despite everything pointing to the relationship being solid and good for Buck.

It is the worst possible scenario.

It is a nightmare for both Buck and Tommy.

Both messages are terrible for the audience.

There were so many ways they could have broken up and I would have been fine with it. I've talked about it before, but I was fine with Josh and Arnold breaking up in Please Like Me and I still love the show. I watched episodes with Josh and Arnold from Please Like Me as a comfort when I was reeling about this that first night! I was fine with Alexis and Ted breaking up on Schitt's Creek and I was still fine with the show. I was okay with Amelia and Kai breaking up and I'm still watching Grey's Anatomy. Because all of those breakups were understandable. They made sense. I can like couples and be okay with them not working out. And they're fictional. Fictional shit rarely hurts me, if ever. That's not my problem at all here.

It's how this happened. It's the message it signals to the audience. It's devastating. I'm still devastated by the choice. I've never felt this way about a breakup for two characters ever. The core of my grief and genuine hurt is what the show proves it believes in through this breakup. And that's what's hurt me.

[assexpansion]

You asked me to write a story about a girl falling asleep in a special hot-tub at a spa, so how about I ask you this:

A petite girl who's spending some time at her new private pool in her new home, where something occurs, of course granting her breasts, belly and butt of tremendous proportions? I'll leave the details to you, you're a writing genius after all <3

Off The Deep End (18+/Incest/Hyper)

After 8 years of education, 2 diplomas, and a successfully defended thesis, a well-deserved summer break awaited Ariana at her parents' new home. They welcomed their short but high-achieving daughter with welcome arms and began the tour of the small mansion. Their daughter was enchanted by the luxury abode, especially its pool...

Ariana was feeling burnt-out by the last push of studying, so the family's mansion, where she'd be fed and could relax, was like a dream oasis. Then, she noticed the back of her older step-brother Benji's head under the backyard gazebo. Her dream cracked. Her parents encouraged her to chat and catch up with him, noting that he was in charge of preparing the new pool, before returning inside to cook a 'Welcome Home' dinner for their favorite child.

She approached Benji, who was faced away and on his phone with earbuds in. Typical. He never made any effort to be nice to her. So why should she? While Ariana was off making their family proud, Benji had taken the low road of slacking and wasting away his life. The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk with him. It was bad enough that they were related.

"Hey, gues what? Im back! They really went all out with this place, huh?" Ariana said as friendly as possible.

Her eyes flicked to the small screen her brother was looking at.

"Benji... are you... watching porn?"

The distinct figure of a huge-titted, big-bellied, fat-assed blonde woman struggling to sit up from her seat was there, plain as day. Ariana paused in surprise and disgust as she saw the ridiculously proprotioned pornstar from behind Benji's shoulder. The side of his face was expressionless and slightly slackjawed as he watched. Ariana could hear faint, feminine groans from his earbuds with each lurch of her huge body.

"Umm, what the fuck are you watching?" Ariana snapped. "Benji! Im right behind you!" She cried out, stomping her foot down to get his attention.

But Benji made no sign that he had heard her, immersed in the video. He was totally enamored with the triple-extra-large woman on the screen. She was perfect, he thought. Who needed money or school when a clear purpose in life; to serve, worship, and feed a happy, fattened woman was right there? His own daydream was shattered as Ariana ripped the cords out of his head and began yelling in his ear.

"What the hell do you think you're doing watching that out here?!"

Benji's face flushed in embrassment. He raised his hand in admittance, still holding his cellphone with the video playing out loud as he spoke.

"Okay, okay. It's off!"

"God, I'm just so heavy!" It played.

"I didn't think anyone was around!" Benji snapped.

"My stupid fat ass can't even get up!"

"I guess.. welcome back, Ariana." He mumbled.

"I'm such a big, brainless butterball!"

Ariana snatched the device and paused the video. She held the phone to her brother's throat like a knife.

"I've only been here for five minutes and you've already found a way to ruin it." She growled. "Don't let me catch you watching this again."

Benji nodded and gingerly took the device out of her hands.

"Now, how about you get the pool ready so I can start my vacation?" She asked, more of a demand than a question.

The siblings split apart with Ariana resting in a different outdoor seat under the gazebo while Benji gathered the pool conditioners. His earlier cowardice festered into a black anger as he thought about how she had treated him. Ariana was perfect, and he was nothing. It was all he had heard throughout his life. The nerve of that stuck-up little brat. I'll show her, he thought.

Ariana watched as her lumpy step-brother poured a half gallon of pool-aid into the calm water. Unbeknownst to her it was mixed with a large scoop of a secret powder he'd stored away for a special occasion. The pink grains in the white solution slowly mixed into the aquamarine water. Whatever, she deserves it, especially after sneaking up on him. He tested the water with a strip and deemed it safe. Benji hid his knowing smirk, putting on a solemn face as he approached Ariana.

"Hey, so... I'm sorry about that. You're right. That was gross and not cool of me." He said with a sincere tone. "I know we fight, but Mom and Dad just want us to be on good terms with each other. I think they want a little bit of you to rub off on me." He said calmly.

It was easy to lie when you know you've already won, Benji thought. "Anyways, I was going to have the first dip in the new pool, but... would you like to have the honor?"

Ariana was slightly shocked by this more compassionate side of her brother. Maybe he was turning over a new leaf. Wow! And all it took was catching him watching fat fetish videos. Who knew?

"What I saw is going to burned into my mind, but... sure. Thanks, Benji." Ariana said, only gritting her teeth a little.

She swiftly changed into a two-piece swimsuit that showed off her trim body and cautiously stepped down the pool's ladder. Benji sat on the seat nearby, fiddling on his phone as she dove headfirst into the spiked mixture.

"How's the water?" He asked as Ariana surfaced.

"Not bad. Cooler than I thought." She answered, glancing towards him. "Are you looking at more of those videos?"

Benji rolled his eyes. "No."

"I mean, I guess it's okay that you do. It's weird, but everyone's got different tastes. Just keep it to your bedroom, okay?"

"Got it, loud and clear." He said in monotone, trying to go along with whatever she said to act casual.

It was easy to take the high road when he knew that she'd have her just deserts. Ariana treaded water in the shallow end, not quite tall enough to touch the bottom. Unbeknownst to her, Benji's dissolved powder had begun absorbing into her skin the moment she had entered the pool. As it did, the tiny clumping grains collected throughout her small body, stimulating and reforming Ariana from the inside.

"I don't mean to re-open that can of worms, but can I ask why? Like, why do you like those... types of women?." She called out across the quiet backyard.

The flushed Benji had to consider that. However, it was difficult to when his step-sisters' breasts were beginning to fill her swimsuit. The green cheetah pattern was clearly warping, even through the ripples of her twirling arms. His focus dulled as he stared at the B-cup breasts that she had never had before. Mouth slightly agape, he shook to his senses and tried to remember the question.

"Well, umm... I guess it's a, uh... primal thing. You know, like if a woman is big and happy, then that means she's cared for... and can bare children." He said off the fly.

Ariana held the edge of the pool to breathe and considered his answer. Below her elegant nose and dark lips, the tops of two bulges began to rise out of the water. Her C-cups swelled to D-cups in a matter of seconds as the osmotic powder filled the growing woman up. Benji watched her breasts inflate and settle, dropping into fat tits that began to poke out from the sides of her swimsuit as she pushed off and resumed treading water. With each rotation of her limbs, they looked thicker and thicker. Benji needed to talk or do something to stop himself from ogling her.

"Maybe that's where it stems from, but there's more to it. Like, individual preferences." He continued, trying to keep her attention from drifting.

"Fair." She said, nodding with an agreeing raise of her eyebrows. "But, it's, like, so extreme. That woman was what? Four thousand pounds?"

He looked beneath her blossoming breasts to the totally out of character potbelly that was pushing out from Ariana's midsection, making her look a few months pregnant.

"That's right." Benji said. "And I bet that woman in the video makes more than you and me both ever will."

"At the cost of her body, though." Ariana finished wistfully. "But, after six years in school, the thought of cashing out and going brain-dead isn't half bad now that I think about it."

A nagging righteous voice told Benji that enough was enough. His step-sister had already changed more than it would need to totally affect her life. It's already done then, another voice countered. Benji knew their parents had bought this mansion and it's pool on a whim while she was completing her second degree, sure that even if their finances fell apart, the brilliant Ariana would find a high-paying job to support them. Benji rolled his eyes back and saved the thought of her extreme proportions in a business suit. Her chances of being taken seriously with huge H-cups were slim, Benji selfishly thought. Maybe she'd be better at something else.

"Would you ever consider it?" Benji asked, wincing as she slowly swam her much rounder body towards the pool ladder.

"Only if I was desperate" Ariana answered promisingly.

She kicked fattening thighs that wouldn't look out of place on her mom, he thought. In just a minute or less, the powder had turned Ariana into a stacked, plump sex goddess.

"Well, this might be easier than I imagined then." Benji said with a grin as he stood up.

As she reached the ladder and began to pull herself up, Ariana noticed her body felt four times heavier than it was before. Benji walked toward the ladder where his step-sister was realizing just how big she was. Followed by him were their parents carrying the 'Welcome Home' dinner. Ariana flashed him a dead eyed sideways look of cold rage as she looked up from her changed body.

"Oh, you are so dead." She breathed before all of hell broke loose.

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter one

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

AO3LINK NEXT

"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.

"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?

"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.

"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.

"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.

"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.

"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.

"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.

"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.

"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.

"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.

"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.

"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.

"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.

"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.

"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.

"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.

Two Months Later...

"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.

"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.

"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.

"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.

"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.

"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.

"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.

[akutasoda]

my silence is my cowardice

prompt - words left unsaid

including - boothill

warnings - gn!reader, slight fluff, angst no comfort, wc - 855

a/n: req by the lovely icarus ( @fxngtasy / @rusted-pride ) <3 -> "if the new years reqs are still open,,,, perchance,,,z, perhaps,,,,,,,,, boothill,,,,,,,? mayhaps? no pressure of course tho if theyve all filled up ^u^ he just seems like he might fit w some of the prompts"

boothill was never one for sentiments.

he wasn't even someone who was good with words, so holding a sentiment was rather out of the galaxy rangers field.

perhaps it was due to the fact that he was a galaxy ranger - they didn't exactly live the most social lifestyles. or maybe it was due to the fact that bounty hunting wasn't a job for those who liked to socialise and spend time with people.

but whatever it was, boothill was perfectly comfortable with drifting through the cosmo's on his own. when he had a goal in mind and knew how to achieve it, that was his priority. finding the scum who ruined his life was always going to be his priority until he completed it.

he never really thought that he'd have anyone else in his life that he cared about more than his late family. staying in one place was an impossible occurrence and so he never developed deeper bonds with people than a friendly face value - he knew some other galaxy rangers and were quite well acquainted with them, but that wasn't exactly the same.

and yet here you were.

boothill had stayed a bit too long on the current planet and became quite well acquainted with you, the local who had accommodated him and even helped him with finding his way around.

and even with what little actual time he had spent in your company, he'd grown very fond of your presence. so much so that it was still quite a shock to him just how much you'd grown on him.

boothill could even be attributed to still being in denial that you'd grown on him so much. but the truth was there.

and it was evident by many different factors. namely that boothill longed for presence, everytime you weren't near he found himself wondering what you could be doing or how long it would be before he saw you again.

frankly, it was quite unbecoming of him.

boothill didn't like it one bit. it wasn't like him to care this much about someone else, especially one who he hadn't known for that long and so, it scared him.

everytime he caught himself feeling any kind of positive emotion toward you, he caught himself and near forced himself to snap out of it. he couldn't afford to form attachments to people - and even if he could, he didn't know how and the constant fear of losing the ones he loved was a constant nagging in the back of his mind.

afterall, you can't lose what you can't have.

“are you sure we can't meet again or keep in contact?” you poised, staring at the cowboy as he prepared to make his departure

he let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

but he was lying, and saying it through his teeth would've made him feel worse about it. boothill could always visit you or even give you his contact but he couldn't bring himself to do either.

he desperately wanted to, but he had to hold himself back.

so he stayed silent - it seemed cold and much too distant to still be the man you'd known before. boothill feared that if he allowed himself to speak, he would not be able to depart and leave you behind. that he would start getting his feelings off his chest and establish his desired attachment to you.

but it was best for him to stay quiet. he wasn't ever good with words anyway.

he'd been close to people before to know what happens when they get ripped away from him. his entire world gone up in flames within seconds. having people to care about never ended well for him.

and it certainly wouldn't now either. he couldn't go through that again.

some may call it the coward's way out, himself included, but boothill bid his farewell with as little words as he possibly could and prepared himself to go about his life as usual, before he'd met you. but you could tell something was off and boothill could see it on your face.

it pained him, you clearly showed care and concern for him and yet here he was treating you like someone he'd hunt down. he closed his eyes and sucked in a harsh breath.

boothill left without another word or even glance in your direction.

a harsh farewell to someone he cared about deeply but couldn't face to stay around anymore.

he really was a coward.

[lowtaperfeyd]

Hi 🥰 can i request scenario where reader is paul’s sister and feyd’s wife who is all about honor and one day after feyd’s fight she tells him that he’s not all that because he doesn’t fight fare and is coward 😏

Rats Vs. Mice

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

author's note: Feyd is so fine. That's all.

warnings: death, blood, house harkonnen, knives.

wc: 940

(Y/N) Atreides’ father, the Duke Leto Atreides, had a saying, “Respect for truth is the basis for all morality. Something cannot emerge from nothing.” This has always been something both him and his daughter lived by. Because there is no honor in a man who isn’t truthful. Most of the time she didn’t think of this saying often, since she had been surrounded by truthful men. But when she married Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen she realized just how much the Harkonnens lie. She realized the truth did also die with her father. 

“Does he always fight this way?’ She interrogated her uncle-in-law as they were watching Feyd fight in the black and white light of the Harkonnen homeworld’s sun. 

“Yes of course he does!” He quickly responded, feeling a little offended because of the criticism of his heir from his own wife, “What other way is he supposed to?!”  

“I didn't mean to offend, my Baron,” she replied, realizing it was a bad idea to bad mouth Feyd in front of his uncle, “I’m sorry.”  

“Silly girl,” the only thing that came out of the baron’s mouth after that was, “That boy killed his own mother.” (Y/N) continued to watch Feyd fight. 

The way his arm moved through the air in a teasing motion. Like a cat drawing out the death of a mouse. It was complete cowardice disguised by an overconfident nature from many fights against drugged opponents. Drugged opponents who may just stand a chance against Feyd-Rautha. Of course, she did not think he was a bad fighter, just that he was a big baby. 

The fight, of course, ended with all of Feyd’s opponents on the ground lying still and Feyd’s knife rising to the air to show the blood of his kills. Pathetic from a man who won’t even fight a sober man, (Y/N) thought.

As Feyd went back through the tunnel he came out of, (Y/N) turned toward the baron and asked him,

“Would Feyd ever fight against a man who wasn’t drugged?” 

“Why do you ask this?” The baron asked suspiciously. 

“I mean, isn't his birthday coming up? A good present for him would be fighting someone of equal machinery in a sense. You also need to test whether or not he would be good for Arrakis. I know you aren’t happy with Rabban.” 

The baron just mumbled incoherently. 

“Anyway, I must leave,” She said as she got up, “I have to see my husband.” 

(Y/N) began walking through the tall halls of the fortress. Passing grotesque portraits and seeing the black and white fireworks coming from outside of the castle. The fireworks in celebration of Feyd’s victory. Even though it was dark inside the castle the fireworks did light it just enough to where you did not need a glow globe to transverse through the corridors. The air got more frigid as she continued to walk deeper and deeper to her husband’s room. Like walking into the belly of the beast. She got to her husband’s bedroom door and saw two guards outside of it. 

“You can leave” (Y/N) said to the guards. 

The guards just looked at her and nodded. Afraid of what she would or her husband would do if they didn’t listen. 

(Y/N) opened the huge door to see her husband sitting hunched over on his bed. His feet firmly planted on the ground. His knife, still bloody, in his hands. 

“I watched you fight today.” She said cooly to him. 

“I know,” He said equally, “I saw you from the ground” 

“Well congratulations-” She tried to get out before being interrupted by Feyd, 

“What were you talking about with my uncle?” He bit out in a mix of anger and annoyance.

“I don’t know what youre talking about.” (Y/N) deflected. 

“Don’t play coy!” He shouted and moved to stand menacingly in front of his wife, “I saw you two talking and then looking back at me. What was it!”   

“You would be right, Feyd,” She responded, standing her ground, “We were talking about you.” 

(Y/N) declared, “How much of a coward you are,” After saying this she could see the anger lighting up in the cold, black eyes of Feyd-Rautha, “How his youngest nephew only fought people who weren’t able to beat him. And how pathetic it is.” She spat at him.  

“And would you know something, he actually agreed with me.” (Y/N) lied through her teeth, hoping that Feyd would not go and ask his uncle about it later, 

“He agreed that it would be more entertaining if you actually fought people who stab you as easily as you stab them. Have a form of equal bloodshed.” 

Even though his wife was still berating him, Feyd continued to look at his wife, the woman who was not afraid to question him or go against when it came down to speaking, and thought about how pretty she would be with her head on a spike. Red lipstick smeared on her lips and hair all messed up from the blade going across her throat. 

“And do you want to know the worst thing about you Feyd,” (Y/N) continued to push his buttons, “any honor you have earned is false. The only animal one could compare you to is a lazy, house cat; who can only find entertainment in tiny mice, and can’t defeat the rats which actually pose a threat.” 

“You lost all your honor the day you killed your mother.”

"What makes you think you know anything about honor? " Feyd retorted, "Your family is dead and mine is thriving."

[joydoesathing]

what would happen if anatolii knew about this. What was Nacho thinking just running away was he that different compared to now

*cracks knuckles*

hoooooo boy, get ready cuz i got a whole character arc below

(again this is just my take on the story, so it's highly headcanonned)

"I'm sorry for running away. I'll make sure to make it up to you and your mother..."

nacho was more reckless back in his former years when he was first having a fling with frances. but when he did get her pregnant, he realized that he messed big time. realized that not only he's got a child on the way but has no means to provide for them both and isn't personally ready for big commitments like being a father or even getting married. why would he be? he was barely even 20. he never really thought that far ahead.

he didn't want to ask his parents for help. they'd definitely kill him if they figured out he got this girl they never met pregnant. he didn't also have the guts to tell frances the bad news.

his buddies at the time, who were just as reckless and short-sighted as he was, recommended that he could just... leave all that complicated and deep mess with frances behind him. just run away.

i mean he could do it. like him, frances probably wouldn't turn and complain to her parents first for help (for the same reason nacho wouldn't turn to his own parents for help) . his parents doesn't even know they had a fling together. even if she will become desperate enough to find them and try to turn to them for help, would they even accept her? let alone believe her?

"you wouldn't get in trouble. there's no one else that knows about it than you two."

" i mean, i'm sure she'll figure out something. she should know at least the basics."

that's what his buddies kept on assuring him. but even he could see that just up and deserting frances like that is just straight up cruel.

but was he in any room to still complain? it's not as if he had the resources nor the strong will to commit and face the heavy consequences of his actions.

and with that, he ran off but wracked with the small feeling of guilt.

while he tried having his new start, that feeling of guilt just grew bigger and bigger and started eating away at his conscience. he kept on trying to deny and delude himself with the words of his buddies, but it did nothing to stop that guilt completely.

it made him finally see that he's nothing more than a dirty dog running with its tail between its legs. a jerk and a coward. he had a feeling that he was going to have his comeuppance and it wasn't going to be pretty.

and so it did, a year and a half after he ran. his partner, depressed and completely driven to madness , tracked him down and almost murdered him in a psychotic rage.

he was forced to see the result of his cowardice and neglect. he didn't blame frances for doing that. who wouldn't go mad if they've been abandoned by someone who thought they could trust?

after she was stopped, he decided not to press charges on frances , although that didn't stop her from still getting institutionalized. being incapable to care for her child, nacho finally decided to man up and take his and frances' child up as his own and take raise him.

he knew that it's such a scummy thing to do. to just NOW take up the responsibility when everything was blown out of proportion. but he decided to not run away now, just because of that. his son needed a parent more than anything else now.

as he went on raising anatolii, he felt that he had absolutely nothing to be praised for. unknowing people says: "you're such a strong man, raising a son all by yourself."

he just did what he should have done from the start. right now, he takes care of his son wholeheartedly as an act of repentance, for both frances and anatolii. to show that he's truly sorry for being the coward he is.

for now, nacho is keeping the truth the whole mess between him and frances well-kept from anatolii. the only thing that anatolii does know about his mom is that she's alive but never drops by to visit due to some "personal problems and conflicts". but nacho always assures him that his mother loves him no matter what.

[farshootergotme]

https://www.tumblr.com/ruestheday/765956792656265216/one-of-the-biggest-lies-the-fandom-will-tell-you

Opinions on this post?

I'd say that I agree with what this person is saying. As much as I give Bruce shit for his parental skills (which are flawed and shouldn't be overlooked, don't get me wrong), we can say Alfred is partially one of the main reasons why Bruce is the way he is.

I won't say anything about "Alfred should've/could've taken Bruce to therapy" because then we gotta consider a lot of things about the decade when Alfred was introduced and his age in-universe, as Alfred might've not lived in a period in which therapy was widely accepted and even recommended. But I won't dwell too much on that.

Now, I don't think Alfred is necessarily an evil person, but he can be quite selfish and a coward when it comes to facing consequences (which he rarely gets, if ever).

When shit hits the fan, he's the first one to back out. Why should he be responsible? He's only a mere butler (until he goes and calls Bruce "his son").

He's always detached just enough from the situation that nobody will look at him when looking for someone to blame for a problem that Alfred was most likely involved in.

Bruce might be the Batman, but it's Alfred who works from the shadows and leaves the responsibility of his decisions to the rest.

Does he do this on purpose?

Hard to say. I think he's in a way aware of his cowardice and harmful tendencies, but he doesn't have an active intention of hurting others. However, lack of intention does not mean lack of action, and despite whatever he might feel or believe, he does many things that end up in someone's hurt and even death.

And don't many consider it, but to me it doesn't come as a surprise that Bruce is so emotionally constipated and an unavailable father when he never had someone to learn from about proper parental skills.

Bruce never knew where he stood with Alfred, and Alfred didn't help to make it clear. At first, Bruce was just his master. A responsibility left behind by his parents, but still with the authority to order around the person who's supposed to be his caretaker. And Alfred? We know how much of an enabler he is, but also how inconsistent he can be when it comes to letting Bruce get away with things. And how confusing that must've been for a child? To never have clear boundaries to respect, rules to follow and his behavior corrected.

Kids learn from habit and patterns, and I don't believe he'd see much of that with Alfred, who jumps from his role as a father to his position as a butler way too often for a young mind to fully comprehend. Add to that the fact Bruce already had a position as a rich kid, which would've led to even more people forgetting to set boundaries with him due to his influence.

Now it's not so weird to see him getting away with his toxic behavior towards his children instead of confronting his mistakes like a parent should, right? But I digress.

So, moving onto the next point: child soldiers.

The post you sent mentions Alfred's involvement in the later creation of Robins. But how can he normalize sending kids out there to fight a war that isn't theirs? Well, that's when you remember Alfred joined the army at quite a young age, and there he must've seen even younger kids working as soldiers. What are the chances he has a messed up view on what children should and shouldn't (have to) do?

Subconsciously, he must've internalized this idea of children fighting for their country, and when he saw Robin for the first time, it might've brought back that idea and so he allowed this child to fight for a city that was not even his yet. And then came Jason, then Tim, then Steph, Cass, Damian, Duke... They just kept coming, and Alfred kept pushing this idea.

Jason died? That's a shame, but war is unrelenting, and soldiers are expected to die. It doesn't mean the rest should stop fighting, right?

"Jason Todd, a good soldier".

On top of all that, Robin is good for Batman. Robin is the light Batman needs. Robin can help Bruce, his boy. His son. And who's Alfred if not a messed up man? He'll put the children at risk if it means helping the boy he failed to help before. And when he gets attached to said children, it'll be too late to try pull them out, and then they'll be just another repetition of what Batman came to be when he allowed Bruce to leave.

As for Julia Pennyworth, Alfred was separated from Marie—his then partner—due to war, and found out about Julia's existence only two years after she was born. Their relationship had been distant since then. Julia didn't know about Alfred, but he requested a friend to take care of her and kept sending money all the years to come after making his friend promise not to tell Julia about him, his real father. Why didn't he ever go to see her? That's because, according to Alfred, he was afraid to disrupt her life. But if I'm being honest, I think he also didn't feel ready for the responsibility. And when he became Bruce's guardian, he still was not ready, but Martha and Thomas were his friends, so there must've been a sense of responsibility and guilt influencing his decision.

To summarize, Alfred Pennyworth is an extremely flawed individual and he should not be absolved from any of his mistakes.

[cotl-flower-crown]

How and why did Lamb fall in love with Narinder to the point that they got married and had children?

Besides, if we consider that Narinder was evil and just wanted to use her to return to the world of the living.

TLDR: Slow burn, very slow burn

Feel free to ready the wall of text I prepared below

Angel (the Lamb) ever since they met The One Who Waits, was deeply devoted to him, so when it was revealed that he had plans to sacrifice them, they were devastated. It took them a long time to approach the Gateway, hesitant to fulfill their purpose, but when they thought they were at peace with their fate, Angel finally met him there.

Their plan was to negotiate. Perhaps if Angel pleaded with him enough, they would spare him, but they could tell from the moment he opened his mouth that he was not open for negotiation. But Angel tried anyway. They tried convincing him that perhaps there is another way to free him and if there is one they would be happy to do so. But what The One Who Waits saw was weakness, he saw fear in his vessel's eyes as they looked at him and questioned their faith in him. Were they not as devoted as they claimed to be? No, they doubt his judgement. Him! The One Who Waits Himself! Their God! Such blasthemy could not stand! He called The Lamb out for their cowardice and shamed them for their lack of faith. He demanded for the final time that they kneel to him, so the prophecy could be fulfilled.

But Angel could not do what their God has demanded. Even their deviotion had its limits. Through out the whole journey to free him, Angel was encouraged to learn to stand up for themselves, even by him. And now he's demanding that they ignore all their teachings and bow to him. It all felt so wrong. If they are gone, what will become of her followers, what will become of the scraps of Sheep folk's culture that they hold in their heart? It will all be gone, THEY will be gone.

They could not stand for that. With tears streaming on their cheeks, they drew an axe and pointed it in his direction. "I cannot leave yet" they whimpered through their tears. And so the battle begun.

As it ended, Lamb had no idea that The One Who Waits would survive this battle and yet, there he was, laying in front of them. A stature not taller then theirs, not even able to hold himself on his legs. But he was alive. Their prayers and hopes were heard. A wave of relief washed over Angel's body, and while they still felt betrayed by their ex-God, they didn't have it in them to finish him off. So despite his protests, they brought him to their cult. They would decide on his fate later.

When brought to Lamb's cult, Narinder felt many emotions. Anger, disappointment, fear even. Mostly anger though. He was angry that his vessel betrayed him, that he's stuck in the cult now and stuck in this weak, needy body that cannot even stand on its own. Lamb would help him get back on his feet and he hated that the most. How long would it take for the Lamb to change their mind and finish off what they started? In the best case scenario, he will be killed, free from this mortal body, but in the worst scenario, they will imprison him again. He could not read their mind anymore, he couldn't even read their face, shrouded with unreadable cold disapproval. It was both unsettling and annoying.

For many months Narinder was dependant on Lamb's help to recover his ability to walk. They would help him stretch, accompany on his walks in case he falls over from his croutches, they were his personal assistant in a way, which without a doubt Narinder liked to abuse. But eventually he would learn to stop it, as such behavior was not acceptable among Lamb's followers. They did not take kindly to him making their leader cry and Narinder will forever remember the day those people locked him in prison and threw rotten food and excrements at him. He also remembers well the night when Lamb came to him to clean off the waste off of his head and let him out of the stocks. He knows that they enjoyed watching him being served with justice a little, they told him as much, but he couldn't help, but help feel relieved by their mercy. It's not something that he would do, that's for sure. Supposedly, it was a good reminder that even if Lamb is not keen on punishing him, they have no issues letting the others do the dirty work.

Angel's grief passed soon enough, seeing Narinder's legs getting better. Witnessing him be able to stand and walk on his own, run even, was the most joyous they have felt for a long time. Still he wasn't exactly in the best shape, so the regular walks were still mandatory. Lamb didn't have to accompany him anymore, but they still did to Narinder's distaste. They would not usually speak much, but when Lamb warmed up to him a little, they begun to try and start a conversation. Though Narinder would usually turn those attempts down and challenge Lamb's attitude, one day he insulted how the cult looks, and when asked what's wrong with it, he couldn't point out specifics and stammered that there's not enough red candles. Lamb took it upon themselves to fix that issue, partially out of spite. Begrudgingly he allowed Lamb to take that win. (Narinder's first quest)

Finally the time came when Narinder was well enough to start working. Lamb assigned him to work at the farm. As he worked around with the camelia flowers he mentions Leshy, before he gets back to work. Time passes and Lamb comes back to bring him the flowers, straight from Darkwood. He expresses how he didn't ask for them, but Lamb could see past his exterior, see that they made him a little happier.

Suspicious of Lamb's intentions Narinder challenges Lamb to go to Anura and bring him mushrooms unscaved. Angel teases him a little before the travel and brings him what he wished for. Then as they talk more, Nari sends them off to Archordeep, wishing to see their crystal walls crumbled. And when that's done, he quietly asks Lamb to bring him silk from Silk Cradle. He waited by the entrance as the Lamb came back from the crusade and handed him the silk. And they brought him tea as he at last allowed himself to process the grief.

Narinder grew attached to the Lamb as there was nobody else he would think of as a worthy company. Although he did not consider them a friend, nor anything of that matter. It was hard for him to describe what his usurper meant for him at that point, but he couldn't help but follow them if he wasn't at work or asleep. They would discuss the common topics, like the weather, the jobs, hobbies and their own health. While he didn't seem to let go of his grievances with Lamb, they noticed that he wasn't exactly angry about them either.

One day Narinder witnesses a follower's death for the XYZth time and he grows curious. He hasn't been exactly a regular attendant of Lamb's sermons and he wasn't planning to be, but he realised that he doesn't know all the rites the Lamb and their flock performs as well as he wished he did. He approaches the Lamb, admiting his apprehensions towards them as worthy of the crown, demanding in his usual fashion that they show the legacy of the new God of Death. Lamb did not plan to bring anyone back from the dead that day, but they will not turn down his challenge, if that mean that they can make him eat his words.

They did not expect a genuine praise though. It felt somewhat offputting to see Narinder laugh and sound proud talking of them. They were put off guard by it and Nari didn't blame them. He was surprised himself too, to the point that had to take a step back, but it was undeniable, he was proud to see that his vessel is continuing what he started. Perhaps they have some wits in them after all. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to attend their sermons more often.

Time passed and while Narinder grew to get used to his new home, the more he stayed there, the more trapped he felt. The cult grounds seem a lot smaller once you learn all their nook and crannies. He was itching to see more of what was left of the Lambs of the Old Faith after the millenia of imprisonment. Angel excouraged him to do so, but at the same time, they were worried for his safety. The outside world is dangerous and Narinder was no longer a powerful god. While it wouldn't be impossible to bring him back to life, Angel did not want to see him dead. They eventually figured out that giving him a company to make sure that he's alive would make them a lot calmer about the expedition. They decide that they will send their most experienced missionary with him. Meanwhile Narinder and Shepherd (one of Lamb's most loyal followers, the leading farmer and the missionary veteran) shared another petty interraction, which this time ended in a fight that Lamb needed to break off.

Later, Narinder learned that him and Shepherd would be stuck together on a mission. He was vocally not happy about it but did not fight it. A human shield is always in value.

They get through their shenanigans and end up becoming friends.

When they come back, Narinder is injured and seems like it got infected, but he insists that he's fine. He stops objecting when Shep fistbumps his arm (very much intentionally) and makes Nari speechless. Angel takes Nari to the med bay, and there Nari thanks Lamb (the end of the final quest)

So, by the time the quests are finished, Nari and Lamb are kinda like friends. Acquaintances, maybe. After that, Nari spends his time either working, sunbathing or hanging out with Shep and/or Lamb. Him and Shep turn into bros, but he doesn't really know what to think about the Lamb. They're ok in his eyes.

As the time went by from then on Nari developed a vague fondness of Angel as a companion. He's not in love or anything tho. Meanwhile Angel develops a little crush on him. They think he's cute the way he is now and they enjoy spending time with him. They don't try anything with him because they don't want to ruin their friendship, but they get jealous when someone else shows interest with him and they may contribute to his dwindling love life.

More time passes and Nari begins to develop feelings for Angel. He's very dismissive about it and denies when asked, but Lamb knows and they are very fond of him at that point and really wants to say something, but doesn't want to jump this ship only to later learn that he's not happy. They made that mistake before and they don't want to pressure him into anything so they wait for him to make a move.

Meanwhile Nari tries really hard to convince himself and everyone around that he doesn't like the Lamb, even though he gets very possessive over Lamb's attention and jealous when they speak fondly with anyone else. He also wants to kill people who just happen to have a crush on the Lamb or those critical of them. He's not sure why, but he can't help it.

Even more time passes, and it finally gets through Narinder's skull that, yes, he is in love with Angel, and it's not a hex. He realises it after him and Lamb share a dance among the crowd and after talking with Shep about it. He finally decides to start courting the Lamb, but the way he wanted to do it was to give his life to them, aka stabbing himself in front of them and Shepherd was like "NOPE, how about you try the more casual ways of courting instead?". So he tries the gifts first. Gifts that consist of bones, snake skins and dead critters. Because cat instincts. Shepherd tells him to stop and try something else. After some trial and errors Narinder decides to just stick with his original plan.

He meets Lamb at night when everyone else is asleep and Narinder begins with confessing, then he pulls out a sacrificial knife and aims it at his chest. Lamb stops him, saying that they don't want to see him dead, but Nari argues with "how am I supposed to accurately show you how strong my feelings are if I cannot give you my life" and Lamb is like "do it by being by my side, not like this" and then Nari lets go of the knife and complains that now he doesn't have any plan B and Lamb proposes for him to "court them like a mortal" by sharing a dance together. Nari complains that there is no music to dance to, but that is easily fixed by waking up one of the followers to play music for the two. They share a lovely soft slow dance that ends with them kissing.

They end up getting married soon after that. And after some time spent getting adjusted to married life, they decided to try for children for one reason or the other.

And that's that. Slow burn narilamb beloved <3

[purinfelix]

I didn’t see anything on your requests about not doing a fic based off of a song? I was wondering if you would want to do one based off of Thunder by Lana Del Rey!

just do it, don't wait ✶⋆.˚ - joao felix

summary: in which it dawns on you that your 'no-strings-attached' relationship with joao might've become more than you bargained for w/c: 838

a/n: absolutely love this!!! i typically write most of my fics based off of songs so i'm totally open to taking requests of songs you guys want fics based off of - also anon hope you don't mind bc u didn't specify who u wanted it for so ... ofc its joao <333

It was a peaceful morning, and you were lying in bed thinking about how you had never noticed how quiet this time of day could be before. Not until you had had another person in your bed, and their soft snores were the only things you could hear, until you had to worry about how turning over might wake them up, or how loud your own thoughts seemed to be in comparison.

Shifting as quietly as you could, you watched the morning sunlight drip in through the shades, speckling Joao's features. Your eyes traced his nose, his cheeks, his lips, a small smile spreading on your own. You think about it for a minute - reaching out and touching him, waking him up so you can tell him face to face how you feel. But the thought is forgotten as fast as it comes to you.

You weren't sure how this thing between you two had started, but every memory since then was as clear as it could be. Every dinner date, sneaky kiss, midnight meeting - just thinking about the time you had spent with him, regardless of how sparse, was enough to make you blush. But a couple weeks ago, on a morning not unlike this one, it suddenly dawned on you just how far you had let yourself go.

Since then every glance, every brush of a hand was enough to send you spiralling with the horrible realisation that you had in fact fallen for him. What had begun as an occasional hook-up had in fact turned into the last thing either of you wanted it to be, and you didn't know how to bring this up to Joao, because you were sure the minute you did you'd be kicked to the curb and left for the next girl - not that you had any evidence that he had a rotating roster, but considering that he was a famous footballer, you didn't need any.

So you set out on a mission to break up with him before he could break up with you, which you were sure he would do the minute you mentioned your feelings. That way, you would be saving yourself the pain by getting to walk away from this as the one having made the decision. If it was your choice to break up, surely you'd be happier.

The next time you saw him though - at a dinner he had arranged for the two of you, which you were sure cost more than your rent for a month - you couldn't do it. Sitting across from him, indulging yourself in playful conversation and the game of exchanging increasingly daring glances, your own cowardice got the best of you and your mission was forgotten.

Since then, you had been trying to find a big enough pocket of conversation to slip in the suggestion as casually as possible, running into a ridiculous excuse each and every time. One time it was too late and the thought of leaving him to go to bed after that hurt too much, another he had just paid for your lunch and you didn't want him to think you had used him. Any scenario you avoided, your mind was eager to do as many backflips as possible to excuse it.

And here you were, waking up in the aftermath of yet another late-night rendezvous you couldn't bring yourself to turn down. Sitting up in bed as gently as you could, you stared at his bedside table as you had come to do so many times. You looked at the bracelet and watch he had taken off last night before climbing into bed with you, the cologne you could recognise with your eyes closed, the book you had let him borrow - without a single page turned.

Standing up and gathering your things, a routine you were ashamed to have known so well, you were eager to leave before Joao woke up and had a chance to rope you into spending more time with him. As you did you thought about how, regardless of how much you tried, you couldn't bring yourself to hate him. Through all of this, he had been nothing but absolutely perfect with him and it was your fault for falling and ruining what you had going. You had been right with him when you had agreed to keep your relationship casual, and a secret for the sake of his career, you had agreed to every invitational and reciprocated every move.

You found yourself stopping once more in the doorway of his bedroom, looking back. As you did, you watched Joao stir ever so slightly, he really did look beautiful in the morning light. He was mumbling to himself, and hearing your own name amongst his other incoherent words caused your stomach to flip. Watching as he turned around to reach for the now-empty space where you usually lay next to him, you bit your lip hard. Resisting every urge within you to rush back to him and the knowledge that you'd likely be back far too soon, you turned around and walked away.

[stillxnunpxidintern]

A little Ace x Fem Reader Thing

I had this little Ace x Reader thought the other night.

So you and Ace are dating and every time you stop at an island, Ace always plays with the kids and it makes you smile when you see it.

At some point you ask him what his thoughts are on having his own children and he tells you that he doesn't want any of his own, which strikes you as odd with how well he is with kids and when you ask why and he says he just doesn't and so you left it at.

At some point you ended up pregnant and knowing how Ace felt about having his own children, you choose not tell him and started to make a plan to leave. You spoke to Pops and why you didn't give the real reason, you felt like he had an idea and tried to get you stay but eventually let you leave, telling you that there was always a place for you.

Why it was cowardice of you, you left Ace a letter next to him as he slept, omitting the reason why you were leaving and taking your piece of vivre paper so he couldn't follow after you, as you slipped away in the middle of the of the night, heading to the closest island and then island hopped till you found the you settled down on.

The town in which you settled in was very welcoming and treated you as one as your as they helped you out the further along you. When your child was finally born it was baby girl that you named Rouge. As she grew she took after her father in most everyway apart from her eye colour that she got from you and her hair was beautiful golden blonde.

It was just before her 2nd birthday when your heard voices you didn't expect to hear again. You did your best to not draw attention to yourself and picked up Rouge, to head home and away from them. Rouge was happily "talking" away as she waved at everyone over your shoulder.

That when you were sure you heard a audio gasp but you didn't want to know so kept on walking and didn't stop till you were inside your little home with the door locked, not that it would do much if they wanted in, but you just hoped they would leave you be but like that would happen.

Giving you didn't have an angry fire logia banging at your door at some point that evening, you were able to breath a little easier and hoped that Ace was off sailing somewhere else like he liked to do. The next few days were so tense as you kept expecting Ace or one of the commanders banging on your door.

So by the 4th day of no one banging your door, you felt it was safe to head outside and with Rouge starting to get cranky at not being allow to go outside, you took her and some toys down to the beach that was secluded and only the locally really used, so seeing any of the crew was low.

And the first couple of the hours at the beach were peaceful as Rouge dug holes and filled the bucket up before tipping it out on your feet and giggling before running away to fill it up again.

A shadow soon fell over you as your name was said and you tried not to react but your body stiffen upon hearing that voice after nearly 3 years as there was an edge to it but you kept your eyes on Rouge as she played in the sand. You did your best to ignore him as you watched your daughter fall over and hit either a rock or shell, as tears welled up and she cried.

You stood up from your spot and went over to her, picking her up and rocked her gently, calming her down and knew nap time soon, so packed the toys away, while still holding her as she refused let go of you if you tried to put her down.

The whole time you could feel the cold glare at your back but till Rouge was home and down for her nap, you weren't going to focus on him.

When you had gotten Rouge down for her nap, you knew there was no delaying it anymore and went to face the angry fire logia, that was standing in your living-room. Stepping back into the room you came face an angry Ace, as he locked eyes with you and was quickly standing in front of you.

You went to step backward to give some space between the two of you but he grabbed your wrist stopping you from moving as he stared down at you rage in his eyes.

Ace soon started to demand why you left and didn't tell him that you were pregnant with his child, asking what the hell you were thinking. When you didn't answer quick enough he gripped your wrist tighter and raised his voice demanding you answer him.

You quickly tell him lower his voice, as your daughter was sleep and hearing that set Ace off as fire rippled across his shoulders as he anger seeped into every word he spoke to you while keeping his voice low.

Asking how you could keep his child from him, how you could be this much a heartless woman when you supposedly loved him, that he had missed so many of her first because you were selfish wench. Being called selfish had you nearly shouting at him as you told him, that he said he never wanted a child of own and you did what you thought was best, by not telling him so you wouldn't get your heart broken, when he said he didn't want anything to you or the child when he found out.

That had Ace almost growling at you, saying that you didn't even give him a choice in the matter and took all other choices from him. As he went on saying how much you denied him the hotter his hand on your wrist got, till you cried out his name while trying to pull your hand free.

That was enough for him to released his grip and instantly started apologising as you cradled your wrist. You stepped backwards from him, as you never thought he would every hurt you, even when angry, but you croaked out that you wanted him to leave and he tried to say something but the look on your face had him leaving and was still apologising.

Once he was gone you sunk to the ground, tearing spilling from your eyes as you looked at your wrist to see the burn hand print that was on it. You kept your sobs down as you didn't want to wake up Rouge from her nap, so you gathered yourself up and went to run your wrist under cold water for a good while before putting a bandage over it.

It was just after dinner and you were getting Rouge ready for bed when there was knock on the front door. Holding your daughter close, you went and opened the door to see the First Mate of the Whitebeard standing in front there. You invited Marco before telling him to sit and you would be back soon.

Once Rouge was down and sleeping, you headed back to Marco and it was quiet between the two of you before he spoke, saying that Ace had asked him to come and check upon you, after explaining what he had done. Marco held his hand out and you placed your brunt wrist in his open hand and began to take the bandage off.

He called Ace an idiot under his breath as he looked at the burn before covering it with his other hand and used his phoenix flame to heal most of it. When he was finished there was still a hand mark there but said it should fade in a week or two.

You quietly thanked him before asking if he hated you as well as you looked at the floor. There was a sigh and you were pulled in his arms as he told you that no he didn't hate, no one did not even Ace regardless of how he act that afternoon, those he did think you had a momentary lapse of judgement for leaving and said you were idiot for that.

While he held you, you let all your tears out that you kept locked away since leaving the crew, your family. You apologised through sobs and he just shushed, reminding you why Marco was your favourite brother. Once the sobs had subside you pulled yourself up and wiped your eyes, giving the smallest smile and asked he if wanted something to drink, what he accepted and said anything was fine.

The rest if the evening was the two of you talking, mainly you telling him how it had been since you left the Moby and what it was like be raising Rouge. He in turn told you how it was when first left and what has been happening on crew. He told you that Ace had been completely devastated when you just left with nothing but letter that still didn't explain anything and when he found out you had taken your piece of vivre paper back so he wouldn't be able find you, that shatter him and was a shell for a weeks.

Hearing that broke you, as tears fell again and sobbed in your hands as you felt like worst person ever, saying cause as you tried to save yourself from heartbreak and rejection, you had just caused that to Ace instead without thinking much what it would do him.

Marco held you again till you were finished and then wiped your tears away, before saying that you weren't worst person ever, you did what you thought you had do and needed to have a heart to heart with Ace, without the heighten emotions this time. Once he was sure you had calm down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and said he happy to his have little sister back and left you, to go back to the Moby.

The following day you just went through the motions of your daily routine as your thoughts were all over place, you couldn't help but look at the front door every half hour, not sure if you wanted there to be knock or not.

You were playing with Rouge when there was knock on the door and you froze, you had no idea if you wanted to open the door even though you knew should. So picking up Rouge you held her in your arms and took a deep breathe in to calm your mind as you went to the open the door.

Opening the door you were met with the biggest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen before looking to Ace and could see Marco behind him. You allowed both men in your home as Rouge looked at the flowers in fascination at all the different colours that was in it.

Ace froze in place as he looked at his daughter for the first time and saw she was his spitting image minus the hair and eye colour. Marco had to take the flowers from and placed them in your kitchen, as Ace tried to form words as he just kept staring at her.

Sucking up you courage you introduced them to each other and upon hearing that she had his mother name, there was wet shine to his eyes as he took a breath in and said hi to her, to which she smiled back and waved at him. You told Rouge that this was her Daddy as Ace reached out to hold her and you handed her to him.

He was so amazed that this was his daughter and held her as she babbled away to him which Ace took his in stride as if he had always been there and suddenly you felt like the shittest person again for not telling him or allow him to experience it till now. A hand squeezed your shoulder letting you know it was okay.

After some time Marco claimed his niece and said he would be back with her later, as he placed her on his shoulder as he left with her. You knew that Marco wouldn't let anything happen to her so felt fine with him leaving with her.

That left both you and Ace to speak to each other, without any interruption, to air out everything between you both. You apologised for all the pain you caused him when you left, but you thought it was best course of actions as he said he never wanted his own children so was saving yourself from heartbreak and reject without thinking what it may of done to him.

By the time you finished talking you were sobbing in your hands again. Not wanting to see you cry anymore he pulled you into his arms and held you, as he explained how much of mess he was when you left and wondered what he did to make you leave him and to stop loving him without even speaking to him first.

Over the couple of hours it was just you two, there was more tears from the both you, mainly you, and so many apologises between the two of you, so by the time that Marco had returned, most things had been air out between the two of you.

As soon Rouge was deposited on your lap, she started to babbling about what she did and then pointed at Marco before saying bird before flapping her arms like a bird. She said a few other words and Marco said that she called a few of the commanders, Thatch had been called pom cause he mention his hair pompadour when she looked and touched it, Izou was prety and Pops was Ganpa, of cause Pops would make sure she called him grandpa.

Eventually the couple of hours with crew had caught up and Rouge fell asleep in between both you and Ace. So now she was asleep both men asked if you would join the crew again now.

You looked down at your daughter and thought about, it was a thought you've had a few times since leaving the crew but with Rouge being at a young age it would be more beneficial for her to stay on shore till she older, so she interact with children her ages.

So you told them at this point in time, that no joining the crew again was not in the cards, as Rouge staying on land would be better for her any being on a ship at least till she older but you weren't planning on moving any where else, so the two of you will be here when they feel like visiting again.

Marco gave a hum at that answer before saying he was going to head back to the Moby and gives Pops your decision to stay here for the time being.

Once it was just you and Ace again, with Rouge still sleeping he asked why you named her that and told to him that you were honouring his mother, as he spoke before how much he loved mother even though he never got met her and what she went through to keep him safe.

He then began asking all different questions about her, wanting to know as much as he possible could and you answered them all, giving him all the information. When Rouge woke up from her nap the two of them played together, and as you tidy the house up she introduced him to all her soft toys.

Why you were unsure of what would happen with you and Ace now, cause you still loved this man but no idea if he felt same and wanted more or nothing, so would leave it up for him but you were glad your little girl would have her father, grandfather and so many uncles and aunties in her life now.

After having feed both father and daughter and Rouge was put down for the evening, Ace said he should be getting back to the ship but would be back in morning, though he did asked to have a piece of your vivre paper again.

You agreed to that and teared a piece off the sheet and handed it to him before walking to him door and as you bid him a good night, he kissed your cheek and said goodnight before heading off back to the Moby.

Somehow Ace could still make your heart flutter by doing the simplest little action.

And with that you headed off to bed, feeling hopefully of what the future might bring.