#i have trouble putting feeling into words and explaining myself

[duhhpadfoot]

Frustratingly Ours

poly!marauders + lily x reader | Remus centered | Academic Rivals

A/N: Okay so I've decided to say fuck it and post the version of this fic I originally had planned, because why not put more pressure on myself? I'll update both versions. this first part has really minor changes to frustratingly yours

[2.4k words]

CW: discussion of acceptance and discovering ones sexual orientation, childhood acquaintences to academic rivals to...lovers, cursing, it'll be a reaaal slowburn, rem and reader at each others throat, remus might seem a bit ooc but you'll understand why, remus centered story

stunning witchy dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part 2 (to come)

Remus liked to believe he enjoyed keeping his head down, ignoring the fact that he himself was a part of the infamous marauders and did participate in pranks from time-to-time. Along with the fact that he was dating said marauders and a fiery redheaded girl, he still liked to believe he kept out of trouble (for the most part and the right reasons). He liked to believe it, it didn't mean it was the truth. If someone asked him to describe some of his traits, he'd be certain to tell them he was a calm and… a somewhat responsible guy, definitely not the first one to lose his temper. He liked to think he was above childish provocations. Unlike his boyfriends.

He laughed at Sirius and James' antics, despite being the butt of the joke. Patiently listened to Lily's rants. Explained coursework to his fellow classmates even when it seemed like the most mind numbing of subjects. And was always the last one to raise his voice during discussions. 

Now if someone were to ask him to describe himself after interacting with you?

He'd answer the same. Because, well, he was a prideful lion was he not?

And then those around him would raise their eyebrows in utter bewilderment. 

You were the only one who made him feel like he was a breath away from self admitting himself into St. Mungo's. The one who made him raise his voice at the littlest things, resort to childish antics and drive Lily mad with his rants about you. 

Y/N Y/LN.

His lovers' best friend and lately, much to his grumbling, their crush. And his —he'd never admit this to her, give her the dignity of acknowledging her as someone respectable enough to be competing with him— academic rival. 

Yes, Lily sometimes did get better scores than they both did. James got the handle on a charm quicker than anybody in his house. And Sirius did achieve O's on his schoolwork without much effort. 

But that did not matter because they weren't you. The one who plagued his mind. Whose name was always on the tip of his tongue.

He was proud of them, encouraged them and commemorated them. 

The same could not be said about you. 

You were friends during your first year at Hogwarts… and then things got to the point in which they were now.

"I did not cheat!" You whisper harshly across from one of the library's tables. 

A dark chuckle comes out from his lips as his eyes narrow to slits and focus on you. "I think I recall our Defence Against Dark Arts Professor rather clearly, we weren't supposed to use curses on one another."

The rest of your group don't even lift their heads from their work, as this is normal when it comes to you two. It became so common they could probably dedicate a time in their schedule for whenever you'd bicker, argue or shout at each other. It would be weird for a day to go by without some type of exchange between the two. "I'm glad to know your stupidity hasn't affected your memory loss seeing as our lesson was a couple of hours ago. And as I've said" You drawl lazily, although the tightening of your fingers around your quill betrays the way you actually feel "I didn't use curses." 

You hear more than see him scoff since you won't lift your head to meet his eyes. 

"I did not curse you, if you'd get your head out of your arse you'd have heard me when I said I created a—" Remus doesn't even blink at the aggression. "Also known as cheating." He sneers. "Or you're just barking mad and have great difficulty admitting that I'm better at duelling than you are."

That causes Sirius and James to abruptly stop their whispering and Lily to put down her book, all of them now tensely keeping their eyes on you both.

The banter was normal, once one of you mentioned you were better than the other at anything? Specifically a subject, an intellectual subject? All hell broke loose, there was no knowing where things would go. 

"Well of course, when one uses means that aren't following the rules then obviously it's much easier to defeat their opponent." "How many times am I supposed to tell you that I used a jinx that I've created?" Your voice finally starts to rise in volume. Really shocking that you've been able to control yourself for so long. "The same one you won't let me explain since you always end up interrupting-"

"I suppose until you admit that what you've done was against the rules." He raises his voice to meet yours in volume. 

The other three students' heads turn, following your banter as if they were watching a really intense quidditch match, not trying to diffuse the situation already knowing the outcome would be the same. 

"Shhh!" Madam Pince whispers fall on deaf ears as both of you only seem to get more and more agitated with your argument. 

"Just because I best you does not mean I cheated." "I'll remember that for future reference." "Please do! Are you finally admitting that you already expect me to win our next duels?" 

"Oh, please, this is embarrassing." He scoffs

"Okay, you know what, let's do a redo right now, and I'll be nice and not even use my jinx since you're so put off by it." You stand up abruptly, push your chair out, letting it topple to the floor in your haste to prove him wrong. Causing Madam Pince to yell in shock. "And will probably never be able to shield it." 

Remus barks out a condescending laugh, quickly standing up to meet you. "Yes. Let's." Escapes his gritted teeth.

James' eyes widen in shock that his boyfriend, his kind, collected and put together boyfriend, would actually pull out his wand in the middle of the library, his sacred place. Sirius just grins at the situation, even after years of this kind of interaction, still highly amused that two of the calmest people he knows could get so violent when together. "Remus, love—" Lily tries to reason. "Expelliarmus" He smugly says quickly as you were going off about something. Your wand flying across the table and into the palm of his waiting hand. 

"You were saying?" He lifts his eyebrow at you. 

You don't even think before hurling your tome right at his head. 

That's how two of Hogwarts' brightest were forbidden to study in the library at the same time. 

And how Remus ended up with a purple eye. 

McGonagall strides across the classroom returning her student's latest graded parchment. She could just use the locomoter spell to retrieve all of them at once, but Y/N along a few of her housemates suspect the professor enjoys the suspense. Some groan or silently cheer as they receive their work back, while others anxiously await for theirs. McGonagall hands Lily's with a small smile on her face. 

The witch beams at her parchment. The one that took her a while to put together and feels the need, the pride of showing it off to her loved ones. Wishing to be a part of a little healthy competition.

“I told you guys this was an easy subject.” She says smugly while showing off the O on the top corner of her parchment. 

“Well done love, congrats!” Remus murmurs half distractedly, pressing a quick peck to her lips, while keeping an eye as the Professor makes her way towards your side of the classroom. 

Lily, a bit miffed at the lack of competition or ambition, brags, a bit out of character, but still “I bet I've done better than you did.” “Wouldn't be surprised, a bright witch as yourself” Remus gives her a bright smile, the words weren't even out of his mouth when he turned his head back to the front, eyes already back to tracking their professor. 

Not getting the reaction she'd wished for, she heads toward the other witch always competing with her boyfriend when it comes to grades. Practically skipping towards you, she doesn’t even get the chance to come up with a remark as you already interrupt her with a blinding smile that normally would make her blush by being the focus of your attention. “Another O Lily?” “Yes.” The redhead huffs and her shoulders slump with disappointment, really not the reaction you'd expect from someone that just got the perfect grade on an assignment that took them some time to put together. 

“Congrats dove, wouldn't expect anything less from you.” Lily just turns around and goes back to her seat next to James, who squeezes her shoulders trying to hold back his laughter at the situation, but being betrayed by his shaking shoulders. Which only angers his girlfriend even more. 

Professor McGonagall (along with any other Hogwarts instructor) already knows what to expect from a certain pair of gryffindors, purposely dragging out their bickering and anxiety leaving their scrolls towards the end of the pile. 

Lily, Sirius and James all sit in attention along with the rest of the class - well except for you as you try to pretend you don't care what his grade might be -  as their professor hands out Remus' parchment back to him. 

He beams smugly, eyes immediately finding yours –which seem to have gone against your orders and fixed themselves towards the lanky boy –he simply rests his head on the palm of his hands and with the other hand, joins his index finger to his thumb, forming the circular shape of an “O”. Knowing you were watching, which just aggravates you more. McGonagall distributes a couple more parchments and finally (actually) heads towards you, already letting out a small sigh, knowing the chaos that might descend her classroom like a storm. 

Your knees won’t stop bouncing, I mean, of course you know you did well, you just hope you did better than he did. That’s all that really matters. 

The Professor returns your scroll, trying to hold back her smile. Your eyes quickly scan the parchment. Your entire posture shifts as if you were sitting on a throne and not an old squeaky chair. Remus shoulders already tensing, having come to learn your body language. And Lily rolls her eyes at the fact that you didn't even open your mouth and have already garnered a bigger reaction than she did with her arrogant words. You don't even need to try hard to make eye contact with Remus, already expecting his eyes to be on you, the same way yours were upon him. 

You know your scroll got less adjustments from the Transfiguration Professor than his did, having heard him (purposely and) loudly commenting to his lovers. Your mouth forms your well practised Remus irking condescending smirk, sprawled on your chair you lazily imitate his earlier actions, joining you index finger to your thumb. 

He huffs and rolls his eyes, while muttering a “Well played". 

Lily was watching the interaction like every other student and professor in their class, and against her wishes a small smile crept onto her face, she slightly shook her head, quite glad that either of you took her up on her teasing. This was your game, your competition, even if either of you would never verbally acknowledge it, you still acted upon it.  

She had always had a soft spot for you, the two of you had been inseparable since you'd sat at the same train compartment on your first trip to Hogwarts and later on placed in the same room. You'd heard her complain about James' teasing back in their second year, and later on about Sirius' and James' outrageously embarrassing advances. Which only got worse when she started developing a small crush on the tall and more reserved member of their friend group.

You'd helped her realise that it was okay for her to have feelings for more than one wizard at the same time. That if the three of them made her happy, then there was no reason she should be ashamed, especially if all of them were feeling the same way. And in the midst of all this, you'd been the one to make her realise that maybe she was attracted to witches as well. She thought back to both of your first kiss shared behind closed bed drapes late at night, her bed full of scattered Witch Weekly editions along with chocolate frog boxes and sticky fingers from your stock of hidden sweets, which you absolutely hate to share, but you'd pulled out just to help console her feelings about the boys.

You both were just trying to help each other out, that's what each of you convinced yourselves that night, full of giggling, sighing and pointing at famous wizards on magazines. You were one of the few witches she didn't mind being silly with and she was well aware you were attempting to lighten her mood a bit, distract her from all of her confusing feelings and anxieties.

After a few more minutes of horsing around, you'd just turned to her with a twinkle in your eye, like you couldn't settle with this being a night that she was already sure she'd never forget, you had to turn it into one that would change her life.

And suggested "let's just get it out of the way, see what the fuss is all about, this way you wouldn't have another worry added to the long list of things I have no doubt you've already created to obsess over, you know, with you being your rule abiding and dedicated self getting into a relationship with more than one bloke." All this with a toothy smile on your lips. She didn't even realise at the time that she was already leaning in, and she definitely wasn't expecting that she'd actually enjoy kissing her best friend. And understand what the fuss was all about.

You always fought her battles even when she said there was no need, you fitted right in with the marauders never missing a joke or the possibility of teasing one of them. You cheered for them and went out of your way to be there for them. You were always there for the people you cared for. You always tried to ensure people only saw the best version of yourself. She and her other two boyfriends couldn't help but fall for you. 

Remus had gotten much better with his insecurity, caused by his furry problem, but there were times that it still dominated the way he acted. Mostly keeping to himself, needing to prove that he was just as good as any wizard without his affliction, he sometimes took himself too seriously. You helped with that, you pushed him, made him lose some of the obsessive hold he had over having to control everything. Which somehow, just made you even more special to Lily. 

It saddened her, James and Sirius that the both of you couldn't see past this rivalry of yours that you'd obviously be a perfect addition to their group. Not that you already weren't a part of it, but romantically. 

So if this competition of yours made the two of you interact, come truly alive and lose the control that both of you tried so hard to prove to everyone that you had a handle on everything, she was happy. 

Maybe this would be the way that the both of you would finally stop being prats and would realise that Y/N was meant to be a part of their group. That you and Remus were destined to be together, to love each other and to push each other. 

It was so obvious this was all a farce for how you actually felt for one another. 

You guys were each other's drive to not settle. So she wouldn't get in the middle of this. 

A small smirk grows on her face as the both of you (predictably) fell into a small battle of wits. She nods to herself, now deciding she'd even help provoking her crush and boyfriend into these situations. It's not her fault this was the only way you'd interact for more than a couple of minutes. James, who was sitting on the desk besides her, was looking at her with an arched brow, recognising the scheming look on his lover's face. Which only made Lily smile more. 

She couldn't wait for when their well practised restraint finally snapped. 

A/N so this is my first fanfiction for the marauders fandom (along with frustratingly yours, but this was the version I was working on before). Feedback and comments are much appreciated :)

[ganondoodle]

still thinking about how even just the decision to basically act like the shiekah tech never existed is just ... so baffling to me

bc again you could have done all the sonau tech does with shiekah instead, and they were perfect to be explored more in a sequel, why wouldnt you grasp that potential, the literal building blocks for more??

if you are that tired of shiekah tech .. dont make it a fuckign sequel to the game prominently featuring it???? totk doesnt take place generations after botw in which things could have changed drastically, its just a few years afterwards??

you want to reuse the map and get rid of shiekah tech? ok fine take LINK into the past then and the focus is for you to find a way to return; do some neat twist where its revealed that link was the one who sealed gan bc he couldnt defeat him without zelda or something if you dare (they wouldnt)

want less work than that and still reuse the map and get rid of shiekah tech AND reuse characters? ok then make it some alternate universe thingy like majoras mask in which everythign is the same but also isnt, its weird and creepy how characters you thoguht you knew suddendly dont act like themselves, shiekah tech doesnt exist, malice is now miasma, etc, it would give reason to why you feel so much like something about this world is familiar yet also very wrong

as far as im aware every "sequel" we have had so far were either generations apart from the first one, some alternate universe or a different location altogether- in all of which its plausible that things are different, things seem weirdly familiar but also wrong, or that another continent just works different from hyrule

but totk does none of that, its supposedly just a few years after the first game, same world same character, but its BUILT like some strange jumbled mess of stuff from botw and new stuff out of nowhere that just .. doesnt fit, but feeling a strange sense of otherness, a déja vu of something you know but it acts off, like an imposter, thats NOT intentional and it shows, its a mess of botw stuff, from stuff that people missed from the old games and entirely new stuff; i dont doubt it CAN work but the way it turned out is like a mix of 3 different puzzles forced together and being told 'see it fits!' even tho you can clearly see the pieces dont look right in these places

again it feels like a sequel that desperately wants you to forget the first game happened, that anythign from it mattered at all

and that isnt really ... the sense of a sequel? why insist on it being one when it only creates problems? is it marketing?? just like it was marketing to call age of calamity a telling of what happened before botw but then it wasnt that at all and that is still the sole reason why i dislike it? bc i was lied to? totk is like 10000 times worse than that, its a main title and doesnt even have the excuse of yeah its basically an excuse to play all your fav characters in fun ways and the game beign well aware that being its main appeal; what is totk appeal? a toybox with botw aestethic and none of the flavor?

(on a sidenote; the sonau tech doesnt even .. matter? in botw at least calamity ganon was made of shiekah tech parts and him overtaking other tech is a big point, the sonau tech doesnt serve anything but .. idk minerus useless mech? gan doesnt even aknowledge it, he doesnt care, all it is is toys for the player, not link, but the player. the monsters mining the tech materials? what for? gan doesnt give a damn and they dont work for the yiga either??)

i said it before but it gives me the feeling that the way botw invited you to theorize, to look beneath the surface, the way it intrigued you and laid the groundwork for so many interesting things without denying anything.. was accidental? or perhaps put in the game without the directors noticing? i cant stop thinking about them saying sth like "after botw zelda wondered if the kingdom of hyrule needed to keep existing the way it had been before the calamity, but then totk happens" bc it just feels like they realized too late that botw naturally led into questioning the status quo and they scrambled to fit it back into a flat and boring road we have seen so many times before (or even worse really) with totk

zeldas character naturally leads into her questioning and reexamine their history and set of rules? we gotta teach her a lesson of why she is importante god given monarchy girl that has to keep it bc what if evil brown man shows up again for no reason

maybe im grasping at straws here but looking at it this way the sonau .. make more "sense"; the shiekah were a group that was under the rule of the royal family, and misstreated before (oh no look soemthing interesting) so they dont lend themselves well to be used for teaching zelda that lesson- the sonau however are tailored really to be just that; they are a supposedly godly race from the literal sky that founded this version of hyrule, that had tech even more advanced and better than the shiekah, she gets put in the past to meet the perfect god king of goodness personally, also his very fridgy wifey that zelda later replaces in a way, shes put there and treated like family and then gets to see just how evil that evil big man from the desert is, sonia is falcon-punched to death solely so zelda can feel obligated to take over her role, have her new, better 'family' hurt by gan; similarly so raurus sacrifice, look what a noble and good king he is, he payed the ultimate price to lock that evil man away, now zelda you cannot let their sacrifice go to waste, rebuild that divinely good kingdom like it was!!

and even though they go so much out of their way to put the cart back onto the rails of black and white-good and evil in an even flatter way than the old games, it still doesnt feel right, at least to me, it still feels like zelda shouldnt have gone along with all of that, it feels like even her character from botw was walked back entirely, except for the intro, it made her feel like a stranger to me-

because this is a sequel, i know this zelda, she wouldnt act like that after all that shes been through, this feels ... off

and it all just insulting to anyone who cared about botw more than surface level, or the zelda lore in general, i dont even care much about the timeline, but theres alot of lore and themes beyond it that felt ignored, especially so given that .. its a damn sequel, non AU, not generations apart, directly part 2-

but its not.

it even feels very "corporate", put zelda in a dress again, people liked that, put crazy abilities in the game to flashbang people with how insane it is even if its not the best for the gameplay or the story, put a new asthetic into it out of nowhere bc its 'new' and act like its been there the whole time, put gan in there bc people miss him and find him sexy even if his role is just as flat as that of an evil cloud monster-

*sigh*

you know, i saw a post that said aoc was like a bad fanfic (affectionate) and totk was like a bad fanfic (derogatory) and tbh thats like one of the best comparisons/summaries i have seen ..

[equalperson]

I fucking hate being traumatized because why am I bawling the hardest I've bawled in god-knows-how-long because someone I didn't even like that much berated Me. gasping wailing trembling and snotting over this for several minutes.

[spookifyer]

Possessive

[Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader]

-remus focused-

Masterlist

Summary: remus acting more possessive and jealous over reader close to the full moon and the other boys have to take a step back - and feel a bit jealous

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, sexual innuendos, remus being touchy, sex talk, little bit of arguing, did not proof read

——

Remus moves a strand of hair behind your ear as he pulls you closer to him kissing your cheek. You smile at him and rest your head on his shoulder. You are both sat on the sofa in the marauder’s room cuddling on the sofa. “You’re so beautiful.” Remus says as he admires you. Even though you have been dating for a year, you blush and move to hide your face in his chest. “No, no, no,” Remus chuckles, “don’t hide that stunning face from me.” He lifts your head up and pulls you into a kiss.

James and Sirius come into the room laughing amongst them selves, they were probably causing trouble like always. “If it’s not our gorgeous girlfriend!” Sirius exclaims excitedly as he rushes over to you smiling. You try to move to him to greet him but remus pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm possessively. Sirius notices his actions and stops.

The boys usually love that they all get to love and be in a relationship with you so they don’t usually act in this manner and this is why the room was full of confusion. “What’s wrong remmy?” You tilt your head in confusion.

“Nothing,” Remus mutters, still not realising his hold on you.

“C’mon on moony,” James chuckles, “let us hug our girlfriend!”

Remus looks down at his feet in shame and you can’t help but notice his look of annoyance at James’ word. “How about you two and I hang out in a hour. We have a lot of studying to do.” You suggest. You don’t like lying to your boyfriends but you can tell remus is hiding something. The boys agree with out any question and leave the room together.

“What’s wrong?” You ask your taller boyfriend sternly.

“I-I don’t know,” Remus answers with a look of shame on his face. You give him a look to indicate to explain. “I don’t know what’s come over me but I just want you. I think the full moon is making me possessive over you. When them two came towards you, I couldn’t stand the thought I will have to let you go. I need you to myself.”

“Moony. That’s not fair on them two,” you look down upset.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replies while lifting your chin up to face him with his finger, “you know that I am not usually like this, that’s why I think it’s the wolf. Just please let me have you to myself until the moon.”

He pulls your face closer to him and kisses you desperately and starts exploring your body with his rugged hands. “I need you,” he mutters in between kisses as he pushes you to your backs and presses himself against you.

“Have me,” you reply. He moves down to your neck and kisses it all over then starts biting gently and gives you light hickeys.

After the moment ends and you both have a second to catch your breaths, remus passes you his shirt to cover yourself and you cuddle closer to him and he notices you look slightly upset. “I’m sorry, was I too rough?” He asks in a worried tone.

“No more than usual,” you chuckles.

“Why are you upset did I do something wrong?” He asks, panicked, but still not letting you go.

“No! Nothing like that! I’m just worried. I can’t just ignore James and sirius. I understand that the moon is making you possessive but I’m not sure what to do because you looked annoyed when they were in the room!” You explain.

“I’m sorry I’m putting you in this position,” Remus replies ashamed. “Let’s get them here and talk about it out, hey?”

The boys return to their room and joke about how they weren’t invited to join in your session - it wasn’t unusual that you would have sex with only one of them - but their usual mischievous demeanour changes as they realise remus’ look of annoyance. “Ok what’s happening here?” Sirius asks.

“Yeah, mate, you are acting strange,” James comments. Remus puts his head in his hands.

“Remmy is having a hard time because of the moon,” you answer for remus.

“I - I mean the wolf - just can’t stand to think of you having your hands on Y/N,” he adds on with shame in his voice.

Sirius frowns, “you do know she is our girlfriend too, moony?”

Remus looks at him and it was obvious he was hiding an angry look. His leg starts bouncing with frustration about the whole situation as he hates to make things complicated and he doesn’t want to upset any of you. You stroke his arm to calm him down and say, “Siri, you know how the moon can make him act.”

“Yeah but what are we supposed to do? Stay away from you?” James questions.

You then have a thought. “This is unconventional, and we have to realise it’s not Remus’ fault, but the full moon is tomorrow night and I’m sure he will be right back to his normal self after.”

“So we just have to avoid you?” Sirius asks, looking upset.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” you say calmly, not wanting to start a disagreement, “I may just have to spend more time with just remus and hang out with you two a little less.”

The two boys frown but nod as they understand that remus cannot help how he feels around the full moon and they want to make sure the both of of you are happy. “I know what Y/N is asking is unfair but I’ll take a step back and let the three of you have times to yourselves after the transformation,” Remus offers as a solution.

Sirius and James begin to smile as they shake their heads and come to an understanding, “don’t be silly, moony. You don’t have to take a step back,” James says.

The lycanthrope looks at them confused, he thought the two boys were angry at him for making this unreasonable request and even believed they would never forgive him. Sirius notices his look.

“We know how the big bad wolf makes you act. Y/N has been there when we’ve needed her and we are glad she is there for you,” Sirius chuckles. You smile and are happy that’s you are all okay.

Until the full moon, you spent a lot of time with Remus as he rarely let go of his hold on you. You still got to some spend time with your other two boyfriends but not without Remus growing jealous when he sees. Overall, everything turned out okay and things went back to normal after the full moon - except the extra teasing Remus received from Sirius and James.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

Note: It’s an addiction now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The repetitious recording crackles in your ear. You sigh. ‘You are currently in queue. You will be connected shortly.’ You lean on the building’s facade as the noontime rush honks and stomps past you. 

You usually pop over to the cafe on lunch, just to get away from Jensen and the shop. Not today. You flick your thumb against your index as your patience dwindles. What if he got in more trouble and you spend your break waiting for nothing? 

Click. 

���Hello? Hello?” There’s a scuffing then he clears his throat. “My queen, are you there?” 

You don’t answer right away. His timbre is gristly and deep, an accent lilting each syllable. Somehow, you didn’t expect him to sound like that. It sends a chill through you as the rich tone stirs your guts. 

“Thor?” You babble dumbly. 

“Ah, my queen. My apologies. Another did overstay their allotted time,” he tuts. 

The affectation in his voice explains the cadence of his emails. You thought he was just super into Shakespeare or whatever. 

“My queen?” He drawls, “you are quiet.” 

“I’m-- I’m sorry,” you shuffle around the corner and hide in the alley, cheeks burning. “I’m a bit shy.” 

It’s the whole truth. Probably the reason you strike out so often. You lock up and don’t know what to say past a point. You didn’t get far this time either. What made you think this was a good idea? You seem to be chock full of those lately. 

“I understand,” he purrs, “I don’t mind doing the talking. How long I’ve waited just to hear your voice and it is like nectar. So sweet and pure.” 

You bring your hand to your throat and dig your toe into the cracked pavement. He’s smooth. Very smooth. You didn’t expect to feel like this. You full thought you’d be bored to tears. 

“Thank you,” you waft out breathily. 

“It is only the truth,” he assures. “And that picture you sent, how every part of you is pristine.” 

“Thor,” you utter. 

“Forgive me, I do have very much time for thinking and the words overflow.” He rambles, “when I am alone in my bunk and the darkness settles upon me, there is a dearth in my chest and yet my heart fills at the thought of you.” 

You let out a strange noise. His voice, his words... You think of the photo he sent. He isn’t ugly either. Shoot. Shoot! Don’t fall for it. He’s a criminal. 

“My queen,” he intones. 

You cough, “why do you call me that?” 

“Because you rule my world,” his voice drips like syrup. “You are all I think of. It is why I have behaved. I’ve kept out of the hole.” 

“The hole?” 

“Solitary,” he explains. 

“Oh...” 

“Did I scare you? I do not mean to. It is only how things are in here,” he sniffs. “I don’t like it. I am not a violent man,” he assures. “Yet, within these walls, it is needed.” 

“Yes, it would be...” you murmur. 

“But I think of you, my queen, and I restrain myself.” He hums. “I think of your gentle hands... and your lips...” 

Your cheeks are hot. You touch one and exhale loudly. 

“It’ll all be real soon, won’t it, queen?” 

“Yeah, uh, what?” You blink. 

“Yes, upon my release. I wish we could speak face-to-face but I thought a call could suffice--” 

“Release?” 

“Yes, it has been right about five years. My sentence is up. Provided I can bide my parole--” 

“Parole?” 

“You are surprised!” He proclaims, “I knew you would be. I cannot wait. I am counting the days.” 

“I didn’t... I thought... you don’t have a life sentence?” 

“Oh, no, no, no,” he chuckles, “though I know a few of those. Not very pleasant men.” 

You’re speechless. Breathless. You stare at the brick wall across from you. You swear you checked, they all were in for good. Dang. 

“Um, I’m on my break and I have to get back to work,” you croak. 

“Already?” 

“I was on hold... a while,” you eke out. “Sorry, I—gotta go.” 

“My queen.” 

“I hope everything goes well.” 

“I will call again--” 

“Bye.” 

You end the call and nearly drop the phone. Your heart is thumping. It’s okay. You never game them any fine details. You always keep it vague. He doesn’t know who you are or where you live. It’s fine. You’re fine. 

You head back into the shop, slightly dazed. You go behind the desk as Jensen hunches over a motherboard. You put your phone down and sit stiffly on the stool. 

“No coffee today?” 

“No,” you mutter. 

“Everything okay?” 

You shake your head and flick away the fog in your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I just... I didn’t get much sleep.”  

You shift and put your focus to your computer. You open your inbox and go to the settings. ‘Delete Account’ lights up under the cursor. You learned your lesson. You’re not going to keep messing with these men. You had your fun and now it’s over. 

👄

The days grow dull. Life dims back to its usual cloudy malaise. Your mom calls to tell you she’s taking the kids away on a holiday and needs someone to watch the house. You try to think of any holiday you took as a kid. You only ever visited your nan or your aunt. 

You say yes. You need the extra money. Besides, your neighbours are friggin noisy. It will make your commute longer but whatever. 

Their house is nice. Your stepdad is loaded. And a jerk. When he started dating your mom, he made you get a job. You were thirteen and no one would hire you. You ended up going to the nursing home and playing checkers with the residents. It was volunteer only but he said the experience was worth it. You guess you had fun. 

You put your things in the guest room. You know better than to disturb anything else. A list of instructions is left by the door, right next to a camera. Wow, Andy, really? 

The change in scenery is something, you guess. Something different. No matter what you do, you just can’t seem to break the sameness. It’s pathetic that the most exciting thing going on in your life is this. 

You are sure to lock the door on your way out. Every lock, every window, has one of those censors that will alert your stepdad to your most minuscule mistake. 

The bus ride is longer than you like. The seats are dingy. Ugh. You get off downtown and hiss as you realise you forgot your thermos on the kitchen counter. That’s the thing, when you change routine, you’re bound to miss something. That one detail puts your whole day off. 

When you knock at the shop door, Jensen doesn’t answer. You have to bang on it several times before he shows up. His eyes are sleepy behind his thick lenses. You huff. 

“Game night?” You wonder as you enter. 

“Tournament. Got second.” 

“Second?” You scoff as you put your bag on the counter. “Worth it, then.” 

“Ha, I know. I got reckless. Blew it all.” 

“Jens,” you say as you get up on the stool and rub your eyes, “are there any prizes for these games or is this just you torturing yourself?” 

He’s quiet. That’s all the answer you need. 

“God, I need a red bull,” he mutters as he checks the aisles. 

“Me too, bud.” 

“What? You said those things are battery acid.” 

“They are,” you snort. “But I’m friggin exhausted.” 

“They got a dragon fruit flavour,” he suggests. 

You laugh again. “I’ll suffer.” 

He grumbles and goes through opening as you check the till. Despite the rough start, the day unfurls in its usual monotony. You sit and type, yawning as customers wander in with broken devices or hoping to sell some unused block from twenty years ago. 

You’re about to finish your last lesson in your marketing module when the door chirps again. You’re too focused to look up as Jensen leans on the counter and sniffs. He scratches his nose. 

“Hey, dude, anything I can help you with today?” He asks. 

“I am in the market for an affordable device,” the voice cuts through your concentration and tickles your brain. You blink and keep your eyes on the text. It can’t be. 

“Phone, computer, tablet?” Jensen asks. 

“Hm, I only need it for emails, truly,” the customer replies thoughtfully as he approaches the counter. “Basic but functional will do.” 

He stops on the other side. Stolid tension roils around you as sweat trickles down your temple. Meekly, you make yourself look up, assuring yourself of your own paranoia. 

The customer grins as his blue eyes are already on you. Your eyes round. It’s him! How in the heck? 

He’s older than the picture. His golden hair is longer and intertwined with hanks of silver which makes it shine brighter. His shoulders are somehow broader and he has a bit extra above his belt. His arms are hug, stretching the fabric of his flannel to excess. You gulp. 

“I have to go... pee,” you squeak and twist on the stool. You jump off so quickly, it wobbles behind you. 

You dip behind Jensen and flee towards the restroom. He grunts as your elbow hits him in your flight. You don’t look back. It’s impossible. 

You slam the door and lock it. You look in the mirror and slap your own cheek. Wake up! This is a nightmare. You pinch your side and yipe. Come on, wake up! 

It’s real. It’s real. You’re cooked. Oh god. 

You search for an out. Why is there no window in a bathroom? What if you had to do a two? Ugh, this is dumb. No, this is scary. 

You spin in circles, panicking. What do you do? There’s one escape and it’s past that six-foot-infinity man out there. Not just a man, a criminal! 

You could cry. You might. No, hold it together. This is all your own fault. You knew better. Why did you do it? Because you felt good? Ugh. How dumb. Men with no hope calling you pretty. You want to hurl. 

A knock has your shoes scuffing on the floor. You spin and face the locked door. 

“Hey, you okay?” Jensen asks. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you call back in a hollow voice. “It’s just... my time of the month.” 

“Oh... Oh!” He exclaims. “Is there anything I can get you?” 

“Jensen, go away,” you snip. 

“Right, uh... just... uh, right. I’m going.” 

You listen to his sneakers squeak away and you huff. You clutch your skull like it might explode. Maybe it will. That’s a solution, isn’t it? 

You know what you’re going to do. You’re going to explain to him what happened. He got catfished! 

Yeah, that’s plausible. Someone stole your picture and they pretended they were you. That’s so simple. 

You inhale and steel yourself. You’re going to have to lie harder than the time you broke your mom’s favourite vase. You need to earn this Oscar. 

You make yourself leave the bathroom. You stride out calmly and reclaim your perch on the stool. Jensen shows Thor a laptop as he explains its features. 

“Not very used. Apparently someone bought it for a great aunt but she only played Mah Jong.” 

Thor hums, “ah, and it is a bargain.” He rests his large hand on the counter. “I must be honest, I don’t believe I’ll use it much more. You see, I’ve only just come from a sentence in the penitentiary. A lot of this is new to me.” 

“Prison?” Jensen gasps. “Oh man, my buddy just got out on a stint. Sounds rough.” 

“Oh, a friend?” 

“He’s a good guy. You know, some people just have bad luck,” Jensen shrugs off. “I can get this set up for you easy. It’s already wiped, I’d have to dig out the charger, but I’ll throw in a laptop bag for free.” 

“Wonderful!” Thor booms and claps so you flinch. “I’ll take it.” 

“No problem. Now, I was going to offer some security too. I can get that installed with full setup. Eighty bucks. And you can come in any time in the next year for service.” Jensen continues through his usual, though he’s adjusted the number in the customer’s favour. You don’t blame him. The guy is a monster of a dude. 

“Perfect,” Thor growls. 

Your eyes flit up and meet his again. He grins at you and his hand slides closer to your computer. You squirm and quickly look back to your review quiz. He’s not going to say anything in front of Jensen, so you just need to play it cool. 

[aphrvdisiac]

the grudge — e. williams.

synopsis — you realize the only way you’ll find true closure is by confronting the one person who ruined you.

warnings — adult language. angst based. brief mentions of infidelity, substance use.

author’s note — me writing n posting this when off to the races pt. 3 isn’t even out yet. don’t look at me plz this is me coping severely cus i like have to.

“we’ve been doing these sessions for almost five months now, and you haven’t made much progress,” your therapist, lyla, explained as she looked at her yellow-paged notepad. “you thought by forgiving her, you’d begin to heal; but you’re still stuck. you’re still stuck on what she did, how she treated you.

“i’m not stuck. i’m just… still waiting, i guess,” you said, holding the support stuffed animal you brought with you to these sessions. “i’m waiting for her to admit her faults and wrongdoings.”

“i’ve told you that you’re not in control on whether or not she owns up to any of that,” lyla stated, sighing heavily. “ellie does owe an explanation, but it doesn’t mean she’s obliged to give you one.”

“what if i get it beat out of her?” you joked, and lyla raised a brow as your faint smile entirely dropped. “it’s just not fair — i put up with so much shit, and it all ends with her cheating on me with some ex-girlfriend of hers from high school? like, are you kidding me?”

“we’ve established numerous of times that it wasn’t fair nor okay. you didn’t deserve that,” she reassured. “but you can’t change it. you can’t undo it. all you can do is move forward, which you still have trouble doing even in these sessions.”

you went quiet for a moment, staring out the office windows and admired the bustling streets and city.

“it feels like there are these weighted chains tied to my ankles that prevent me from moving forward,” you said, tears in your eyes. “i don’t know what’s holding me back — the cheating, the nights i stayed up with her, the fighting, the future we talked of… i don’t know, but the weighted chains won’t undo themselves no matter what i try to do to free myself.”

“you know she isn’t missing you,” lyla reminded, and you swallowed thickly but nodded because you knew she was right. “and you know she never will again. but it was never about you — what she did, how she acted, it was never about you. she found someone just as damaged as her, and it made her feel good that she could pour all of her troubles into someone like you. who would carry her burdens so she no longer had to.”

“i’m not stuck, lyla. i’m haunted,” you said. “i’m haunted by her, and the relationship.”

this was a terrible, horrible idea. you were perched outside ellie’s front door, fidgeting with your keys in your left hand.

your hands shook to knock on her front door, but you just knew this couldn’t end well, and you doubted you would get the answers you needed — the closure you so desperately sought for.

you moved enough energy to bring yourself to tap your fist against the wooden door, and it only took a few seconds until she swung the door, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“what do you need?” ellie asked, harsh and cold. “it’s raining, and you don’t even have a coat.”

does she still care?

“i need to talk… please,” you said, enough despair and pleas laced in your words and tone. “i just need to know.”

you’ve come to her front door like this before, with the same thing to say, but she’s turned you away each time. if lyla knew you did this more than once, you were sure she’d send you off or forbid you from being her patient.

what caught you off guard was that ellie widened the door more and stepped aside to let you into her apartment, and you hesitantly walked into the warm home that still smelt of oak and musk.

you sat on the living room couch as ellie closed the door and locked it, moving to join you on the couch. “what do you need to know?” she asked, like she would say anything to get you off her doorstep for the last time.

“i don’t get it, ellie,” you muttered, picking at your cuticles. “after fucking everything.”

“i told you that me cheating was nothing personal,” ellie sighed, beginning to get irritated already. “it was a mistake, i was caught up in the moment. i thought we were going to breakup, so that’s why i did it.”

“the words ‘we are broken up’ never came out of my mouth, nor did i even allude to such a thing,” you said, scoffing bitterly. “we’ve had many fights before, and thought we’d break up each time but we never did — but for some reason, you felt the need to jump to someone else.”

ellie slouched back, eyes fixated on you. “brooke was nothing; she still isn’t.”

“she proposed just a few weeks ago, and you said yes,” you replied, and ellie stilled with surprise and confusion that you knew about it. “i don’t stalk you, but dina told me. she thought i deserved to know.”

“you have to understand—“

“ellie, i loved you so fucking much,” you spat out, venom laced in the words of love. “i hate that i loved you that much, that i gave you every piece of me that i couldn’t even give to myself. i doubt you think about the damage you caused, that you think of the hurt you put me through.”

“i never asked you to love me,” ellie stated.

“you didn’t have to. you wanted me to because you knew nobody else would or could the way i did,” you said, inhaling sharply. “you knew that nobody would stick with you when you relapsed on drugs back to back, with the attempts, where i stayed with you until five in the morning to make sure you didn’t fucking die.

“the cruelest part is that you don’t care that it caused just the same damage to me. you don’t care that you tore me apart for your own humor and satisfaction. you don’t care that you cheated on me because at least in the end, you found a way to get me out of your life.”

“i never wanted you out of my life, tulip. you know you were always special to me, and you still are,” ellie confessed, and you sniffled, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “it was never about you.”

“your actions and you haunt me, ellie.”

“you haunt me. you haunt me everyday; your voice haunts me, how you loved me transparently and honestly haunts me and lingers around.”

“and i hope i continue to haunt you,” you admitted, chewing harshly on your lower lip. “i hope you never know a second of peace because of what you did. i hope you know everyday you hurt me, and whilst you are still very lovable, nobody will love you how i did. nobody will tolerate your shit like i did, even when i knew it was wrong and cruel.

“your trauma and mental instability doesn’t excuse the cruel sadist you are, ellie. it doesn’t excuse you’ve caused grand hurt, and you ruined my fucking life. and the worst part about this all is that i still can’t fucking hate you; you deserve to be hated by me, you deserve for me to curse you out but i can’t because despite the fact you made me lose myself, i still love you and want you to be happy.”

silence thrusted itself into the room, lingering around for moments as your sobs were quiet and ellie stared off into the distance, being lost in her own thoughts and guilt.

“all i wanted from you was passion, and what i gave you,” you murmured. “i did my best to keep you satisfied, to keep you here, to keep you loving me, and it wasn’t enough. and honestly ellie, nothing will ever be enough for you. and that isn’t my fault or even problem, and never will be again — that’s your fucking shit to tackle and deal with.”

“i know it is,” she whispered.

“then don’t put brooke through it. you can hurt me, but don’t hurt her,” you said, getting up and picked up your purse. “don’t make her fall victim to your ruin and troubles because you can’t accept help.”

“i did love you,” ellie said, peering up at you as her eyes were starting to get glossy. “i still love you, and you know that.”

“in your own sick way, you did and do love me,” you answered, nodding curtly to yourself. “but it was never enough or as much as mine for you to prevent you from cheating, to stop you from what you did or were doing, and everything else. love isn’t enough for you, els. nothing is good enough for you.”

you walked out of her apartment before the conversation could continue, and your sobs went on as you made your way to your car. you knew this was the closure you needed; you needed her to hear you, and you hoped she did.

and you hoped what you said would never leave her.

[noxiatoxia]

Mikan wants to be "forgiven"...but what does that really mean?

Hello. This is something that has been quietly on my mind for a while.

It's something shown in the game in chapter 3. Mikan really focuses in on "being forgiven".

And while not a mistranslation per se, I think it's inaccurate to what is happening in the game.

I've talked about this extensively - the fact ENG DR team has a very bad habit of translating things literally or very directly. This leads to either clunky dialogue, missed nuances, or just incorrect interpretations sometimes.

I think this in particular falls somewhere between 2 and 3. I'll explain why.

If translated literally, the English text works just fine, but as with a lot of literal translation, it misses the "feeling" of what was trying to be conveyed. If you want my translation...

Mikan: Won't someone just tell me what I did wrong!? Why won't anyone just let it be already!?

While Mikan doesn't say "What did I do wrong", there is a subtle emphasis on her talking about herself...I feel like it's a more natural way to word what is essentially "What is it that I did differently [to warrant this]?"

Anyways, to the main point...I hope you can kind of see what I'm getting at.

"Forgive" feels like...Mikan is seeking people to "pardon" her for perceived wrong-doings. And while not untrue I would say, the way Mikan specifically uses the word and the context it is in, to me, feels much more like she is using it like "allow" or "excuse".

Let me use another example to better explain myself.

The last line to me reads like Mikan needed this person to pardon her for being born; for existing. That her existence in and of itself was a mistake or wrong-doing that needed to be forgiven.

I think that's missing the point, though.

Mikan: They allowed me to exist.

See, the point is...Mikan is a very troubled person. She admits as much in the freetime events that wherever she goes, she is horribly bullied just for existing. That she hated being bullied, but even more she hates being forgotten.

She emphasizes her beloved (Junko) did not hate her, and in fact allowed her presence...

This line was heavily misread, I think. 許して受け入れて was read as two verbs in one sentence (which it is) but as "forgive and accept" which is incorrect to what it means. It's closer to "they tolerated me" (like, accepting and moving on). Which comes to how I would translate it, and my final point:

Mikan: They accepted me for who I am.

This is why I think the "forgive" thing is not only incorrect, but actually opposite of what this scene was going for. Junko did not "forgive" Mikan for the sin of existing. Rather, she was the only person who seemed to not mind that she existed, that didn't bully or ignore her.

She didn't "forgive" Mikan, she allowed her to be herself.

Another reason DR3 totally missed the mark, but I digress...

I guess while I'm on the topic, we all know that scene where Mikan has a little back-and-forth with Nagito...that, too, was misrepresented somewhat.

Putting the English here just for comparison sake. And while not the worst translation in the world, it certainly isn't how I would go about it.

Nagito: I don't...really get what you're trying to say... Mikan: Oh, you don't? (lit: you don't understand?) Mikan: Is that because you don't have any loved ones in your life? Mikan: Is it because there's no one who will love you?* Mikan: Oh, you poor thing...I feel very sorry for you.

*Literally speaking, she says "Is it because you are a person nobody allows" but considering the context thus far, it's easy to conclude she means that there's no one who will love/accept him for who he is.

*Adding "also" to the line is a mistranslation, I believe. も means also but it is also used for emphasis, which I think it is here. Not that it's impossible Mikan is using it to say "also", but in these lines of dialogue she is intentionally contrasting how she does have someone who loves her and that she can love, so to then identify a similarity between her and Nagito, I think, wouldn't make much sense...

Mikan is one of my favorite characters, so little details like this matter a lot to me.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

so literally eight years ago i posted a snippet of a modern retelling of Much Ado About Nothing set in a student co-op and for no particular reason, the concept is tickling my brain right now. so uh here, have this? i guess?

“So, Ursula, my dear,” said Lee, taking the seat across from her at the dinner table. “My fluffy little crumpet. My buttery brioche bun. My tangy slice of pumpernickel—”

Ursula squinted up from her Anthro reading. “Uh-oh,” she said. “You only call me bread when I’m in trouble.”

“Happened to glance at the meeting notes this morning,” Lee continued, her voice rising. “You’ve got anything you wanna explain or defend?”

Ursula flicked her highlighter from one finger to the other, determined to play it cool. “I think it’s all pretty self-explanatory. Which meeting notes, exactly, were you glancing at?” She peeked out of the corner of her eye to check how this was going down. 

Poorly. 

Lee stared at her, apparently at a loss for words, which was not a great look for the house president.

“You did this more than once.”

“I take notes every meeting, Lee,” she said, as levelly as possible given how Lee’s ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ Mom vibes were oozing from every pore. “It’s my job, as house secretary.”

“Is it?” said Lee tightly. “Is it your job?” She whisked opened her laptop and read aloud: 

“Benedick’s eyes blazed with passionate fury. His nostrils quivered. ‘Well,’ he said in a low growl, hair resplendent under the environmentally friendly fluorescent lights, ‘personally, I think if anything, there's not ENOUGH lentils—’ Beatrice gasped. It was so wrong, and yet…”

Ursula winced. “‘Said in a low growl’ is wordy. I should’ve just put ‘growled’.”

Lee pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ursula,” she began, “just how much of our official co-op house notes, which by the way are formally submitted each month to the Co-op Board, are written as if Benedick and Beatrice’s stupid arguments are some kind of torrid Harlequin paperback?”

“That depends.” Ursula steepled her fingers, dropping the highlighter in the process. “How much of my notes do you have access to?”

“All of them,” Lee gritted out. “Because they’re public. That’s what I’m saying.”

 “Look,” said Ursula. “I don’t think I said this when I ran, but I wanted to be house secretary in the first place because a lot of the time, taking notes is the only way I can make myself concentrate. I would literally be taking notes during the meeting anyway. It’s an ADHD thing.” 

Ursula sighed. “And pretty early on, it became clear that meetings in Messina House are basically just a Sexual Tension Thunderdome for Benedick and Beatrice. They go back and forth for pages sometimes. I can feel every electrical connection in my brain fighting to zone out. So yeah. For a while I rewrote their fights as rhymed couplets, for a very short bit of time I had Balthazar set them to sea shanties, and since last December, I’ve been transcribing very close to their actual words, with very close to their actual intentions, plus just a tiny bit of genre trimmings. If they’re gonna waste my Saturday and test my focus, I’m doing what I can to stay awake and keep my typing fingers limber. I’m up to 75 WPM, by the way.”

“December?” Lee repeated. “Ursula, it’s October. You’ve been doing this for over a semester?” A terrible wave of realization seemed to sweep over her just then, regarding the general pacing and content of a standard Harlequin. “Please tell me,” she whispered, “there is no sex in the meeting notes—”

“There’s no sex in the meeting notes,” Ursula interrupted. “Per se,” she added under her breath.

Lee’s lips were pressed together into a thin line. “One year,” she said. “I want one year where nobody drives a motorcycle down the hallway or accidentally mixes up chlorine gas during their bathroom clean, or spends almost a full calendar year slipping smut into the public record—!”

“Excuse you,” said Ursula. ��Smut’s a different genre altogether. This is romance. Slow-burn, enemies to lovers.”

Lee threw up her hands, nearly knocking over her laptop. “What are you gonna do if Benedick or Beatrice sees this?” “Oh.” Ursula froze. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, uh-oh,” she said. “Look, clearly there’s only one thing to do.”

Ursula nodded. “Right, we have to execute a series of far-fetched shenanigans designed to turn those two fighting fish into a pair of cooing lovebirds, stat.”

“No,” said Lee. “What? No, you need to go back and rewrite all of—”

Pedro slid into the room in his socks. “Oh sweet, are we hooking up Benedick with Beatrice?”

“Hell yeah,” said Ursula. They high-fived.

Lee closed her laptop with a snap. “Ursula, what are the odds,” she said, “that you actually buckle down and rewrite all of the meeting notes to read like they were written in the genre of meeting notes?”

“Oh, like, zero,” said Ursula, as Pedro chimed in, 

“Yeah, that will not happen.”

Lee looked despairingly back and forth between Ursula and Pedro. “What do you think is the likelihood that playing love gods will like, actually, genuinely work?”

“Twenty percent,” said Ursula.

Margaret glanced up from the other end of the table, where she was gluing together a collage of every restaurant on campus that had ever given her food poisoning. It was for class, was the thing.

Art school kids, man.

“We’re tricking Benedick and Beatrice into giving themselves over to their intense chemistry?” asked Margaret.

“Thirty percent,” said Ursula, because Margaret was inscrutable much of the time but surely they would have a fighting chance with more of the Humanities on their side.

At “intense chemistry,” Lee shuddered. “That reminds me,” she said, standing and scooping up her laptop, “I need to post a sign in the basement bathroom warning people not to mix bleach with acid.”

“Are you in?” said Pedro as Lee attempted to slip out the door. “Love Gods?”

“Jesus Christ,” said Lee.

“Not a love god,” Margaret announced. She had found the sequins, and was applying them with enthusiasm. “Except in the general Peace on Earth sense, I guess.”

“I’m texting Hero,” said Ursula, digging for her phone. “She knows Beatrice better than anyone. She’ll have tips. That puts our potential success rate at 45%, easy.”

“If we’ve got Hero, we’ve got Claudia,” Pedro added. “And she’s been BFF with Benedick since freshman year.”

“This is a terrible plan,” Lee muttered. “Yeah,” said Ursula, “but you implied it yourself. If, uh, certain parties see my meeting notes, they will murder me. Do you really want a fellow co-oper’s blood on your hands?”

Just then, Benedick burst into the room, Beatrice on his heels.

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice shouted, “are you genuinely trying to argue that soybeans are the superior legume? Soybeans? Over chickpeas? Over kidney beans? Hell, over peas?”

“Soy milk,” said Benedick, counting on his fingers, “silken tofu, miso, tempeh, firm tofu—”

Beatrice took a step closer to him, eyes flashing, “I have never in my life had tempeh that tasted like anything other than an evil Cliff Bar.”

“It’s not my fault your tastebuds were installed backwards,” said Benedick. “This from the woman who still, in the year of some people’s lord 2024, thinks lattes are ‘too trendy’—”

“Espresso is a waste of coffee grounds,” said Beatrice in a low, dangerous voice.

Benedick gasped. “You take that back.”

Beatrice took a step closer. “Coldbrew has more flavor and more caffeine.”

“Coldbrew,” Benedick echoed, stepping even closer. “You’re defending that swill over a nice mocha? Get latte’s name out of your mouth.”

Benedick and Beatrice were standing almost nose to nose, breathing hard.

“You know what?” said Lee from the door. “Ursula? Fuck it, I’m in.”

Ursula whooped. Margaret reached for the glitter glue. Benedick and Beatrice visibly both ran through their mental rolodexes of coffee-related insults. 

From the entryway came the distant revving of a motorcycle engine. Borachio was no doubt doing wheelies in the foyer again, but that was a problem for house presidents, not innocent house secretaries who had done no wrong, thought Ursula as she returned to her reading and her growing mental to-do list.

[howtotrainyouragents]

Folding Laundry, Spy x Family mini fic

Decipher the intercepted report. Prepare intel for Handler. Pick up groceries. Loid ran through his seemingly endless list of tasks, calculating each step of execution and strategizing on the most efficient plan of action. But when he set the laundry to fold on the couch, Yor appeared with a smile.

“Let me help with that.”

It would take two minutes and thirty seconds to fold it himself, and he only had three minutes to spare on this mountain of clothes before he had to start on his patient files. But Yor was humming a tune as she started separating the clothes, and, after a moment, he sat down beside her and quietly started folding. 

The afternoon sun streamed in, warm and fuzzy. Bond yawned disinterestedly at them and shuffled into Anya’s room. Sitting so close to Yor, Loid wondered again why she never seemed to wear perfume. 

Focus. Like any operation, Operation Strix could collapse in an instant if he wasn’t vigilant.  There was the slightest tension in Yor’s shoulders, a slight discomfort or unsureness, that he’d noticed before in these very quiet moments. 

“Do you miss your life before this?” He asked, blunt in a way that only a moment like this could allow.

She looked up, surprised. Her eyes drifted to the window as she absently smoothed the creases in Anya’s frock. Loid found his next breath hinged on her answer.

“In an odd way, yes.” 

He knew it. Operation Strix was in danger.  He had to find out more, a way to fix this. He had to keep this fake family happy for the sake of world peace.  

Yor continued on. “After my brother and I came to the city, I was by myself. I kept a small apartment. Just a bed, a kettle, a few clothes. I didn’t go out much, didn’t have friends really.  Yuri would visit, of course, but he was busy with work.” 

Loid tried to picture this life and found a familiar echoing pang. “That sounds lonely.”

Yor shrugged. “It was all I knew. Pain doesn’t feel like pain when it’s all you know. But this?” She looked around, noticing the room and him in the same way he’d done. “This is unfamiliar. And that’s harder.” 

Her eyes widened, and red colored her cheeks. “Not to say that I don’t want this or- or I’m not grateful!” She rushed to explain. “This is arrangement has been the best thing to happen. It’s just…”

“New?” Loid supplied, though it wasn’t quite the right word.

She hurried through the folding, and a moment later, nervously asked, “Do you miss your life before this? I mean- I mean, before Anya and your first wife?”

Loid slowly buttoned the shirt he was folding. He remembered the brutal military camp he infiltrated to get close to an officer. The snooty soirée to seduce the minister’s daughter.  The loud explosions of the battlefield.

“There wasn’t much of a life before,” he admitted.

She nodded gently, and the slight tension in her shoulders eased. And to Loid’s surprise, so in his. They folded the rest of the clothes, taking in the warm sun and noises from the street. 

He gathered his clothes and she took the rest to hers and Anya’s rooms. Putting them away, he ran through his list of things to do again. He’d wasted too much time. He still had to prepare reports and patient files and get dinner. But the buzzing, stomach-turning anxiousness to get everything done had quieted, and that left him nervous and paranoid.

 So when he heard a ruckus, he rushed to Anya’s room, grateful for something to snap him out of this calm. 

Anya had gleefully seized Yor’s interruption to abandon homework and was playing spy with Bond and her toys.

“But Agent Anya, what about your homework mission?” Yor cried in her TV-spy voice. 

“The mission is in trouble! Agent Anya needs hot coca to save the day!” Bond borfed. “And cookies!”

“Okay, if Agent Papa says it’s okay to take a break,” Yor said, turning to him standing in the doorway.

“Agent Papa!” Anya saluted. “Hot cocoa and cookies!” 

Their eyes were shining bright in excitement. Bond wagged his tail. The house wasn’t just warm with the afternoon, but with the joy of this little fake family.

Loid remembered the cold of the military camp sinking deep beneath his clothes, leaving him freezing and sick. He remembered the bitter bile taste of choking back his words when highbrow ministers spewed hateful words.  He could feel the splintery wood of the makeshift cot as he lay at night, waiting for bullets to rain down on them in the morning. 

He put on his best impression of Handler for his waiting family, but he suddenly understood what Yor was talking about. All of his past lives were hard. Terrifying even. 

But not as terrifying as this. 

[16wolke11]

BRAZIL - Franco Colapinto

Summary: After another crash of Franco the reader has to figure out a statement for the the public. Franco comes over to apologise while they sit out in the rain together.

Words:  1331

Warnings: Mentions of a crash

__________

"Fuck." It's the only muttered word that comes over my lips when I look at the absolutely wrecked Williams on the screen. I'm torn between the two feelings inside of me. On one hand, I feel very sorry for Franco, who already had a rough weekend before crashing out. On the other hand, I pity myself because I'll need to find a statement that won't rip us and him apart in the media and with the fans.

Sighing, I put my headphones away and head back to the Williams motorhome. It's probably best if I start working on those statements now. It's something I've had to do a little too often in the last few weeks, and this weekend already, with both drivers crashing out during qualifying. Explaining to everyone that Alex wouldn't be racing seemed so difficult yesterday, but now I need to justify another crash.

I grab my iPad, deciding not to take the laptop to write so I can roam freely through the building while doing it. Scribbling down notes, crossing out potential statements, and eliminating the ones we might have used too often in the last few weeks. At one point, I find myself on one of the rooftop balconies. The rain is still dripping down, but I don't care. I sit on one of the damp chairs, burying my head in my hands, not even realizing that my clothes and hair are slowly getting soaked.

Even when I hear hesitant footsteps approach, I don't look up. Only when the chair beside me is pulled back do I glance up. To my surprise, Franco has joined me out here. He's still in his race suit, but unlike me, he's wearing one of the large raincoats Williams has. I look at his face; his eyes are tired, and I know it's been a rough weekend for him with his grandfather passing, as well as his crashes in both qualifying and the race. We sit in silence for a bit longer until Franco clears his throat.

"I think we should go inside soon." His accent is thicker than usual, his voice low as if he doesn't have the strength to speak any louder. We probably should, but I can't bring myself to move. It feels like, as soon as I leave this rooftop, my responsibilities will crash down on me again, so I stay quiet. Franco stares at me until he's the one who moves.

Before I can process what's happening, he opens his large coat and pulls me to my feet. His grip is firm but gentle at the same time. "Wait, what are you—?" I try to ask but lose my voice when he pulls me onto his lap, his coat wrapping around my damp body.

"It's cold and it's raining. I'm not letting you freeze out here," he explains, his arms placed around me, holding me tight against his chest. I blush at how close we are. His body radiates heat, but I don't want to admit he's right, my mind is too scrambled to think straight.

"It's fine, really. I'm okay," I mumble, but I don't even convince myself. It's freezing out here by Brazil's standards, and my damp clothing does nothing to keep me warm. A shiver runs down my spine as Franco's warmth slowly transfers to me.

"No, you're not. Let me take care of you. Just for a little while." Franco's voice is firm, tightening his grip around me as if he's afraid I'll jump up any second. I sigh and accept my fate, carefully leaning my head against his shoulder. Maybe this isn't so bad.

"Thanks. You didn't have to," I say, and I mean it. Franco didn't have to be out here with me in the rain; he could be inside, warming up before heading to his interviews to charm his way out of trouble, like he always does.

"I wanted to." He says, his head resting against my body, and then we just stay like this, the rain and the occasional sound of the cars the only noise around us.

"I'm sorry," Franco suddenly says, and I'm startled. What is he apologizing for?

"For what?"

"Causing you trouble. It was my task from the team to crash less than Logan, but I'm not doing a great job. And you need to fix it with statements." He whispers, his voice laced with self-disappointment, and I sit up straight to look him in the eyes.

"So, sorry for making your job difficult," he adds, avoiding my gaze, and I sigh inwardly. Oh, Franco. I lift my hand to brush some of his slightly wet curls out of his face, but he still keeps his eyes firmly fixed in the distance.

"It's okay. It's really tricky out there, and even the more experienced drivers are struggling or crashing out," I try to reassure him. So many drivers crashed out during qualifying, and from what I watched of the race, they're all struggling with the conditions.

"But they didn't wreck their car like I did." Now he looks at me, his eyes burning with so many emotions that I have to swallow. He's full of grief, anger at himself, and disappointment. He looks more than tired—ready to curl up under a blanket and not come out until the next race.

"Alex can't even drive today. I think he did a better job than you yesterday in destroying the car." I remind him that Alex totalled his car in the session yesterday, and there was no way to fix it. "At least you managed to drive. Stroll even crashed out before the race even started." The fact that the Canadian driver didn't even make it to the starting line should help lighten Franco's mood, but it doesn't.

"He didn't damage the car." Now he sounds like a toddler, and I lose my patience with him when he tries to avoid my eyes again.

"Franco!" I snap, and his eyes widen, but he looks back at me.

"Stop sulking, okay? The situation isn't ideal at all, but don't be so harsh on yourself. If both drivers crash out constantly, maybe the problem is the car and not them!" I feel the rage inside of me, similar to the one I felt when it became clear that Logan would be dropped by the team. Yes, Franco did a lot of damage, but so did Alex, and the Williams was clearly not suited for weather like this. So, the team maybe should fix their technical errors before blaming the drivers for them.

Franco licks his lower lip before a soft smirk appears on his face. "Don't say that too loud, or they'll get rid of you next."

"There's your smile." I can't hold back my own smile, my hand back on his cheek, feeling his dimples under my touch. Franco leans his head into my hand, and I'm glad I could make him smile, even if just a little.

"Can we just stay here?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. As much as I'd like to stay, I'm sure Franco's PR team is already searching for him to get his interviews done, and I should probably start working on that statement.

"I fear we have to go back soon," I sigh, and Franco is silent, only tightening his arms around me for a moment.

"Can I come over to you later?" His voice is barely above a whisper, and it takes me a second to process his words.

"I don't want to be alone with my thoughts," Franco adds, sounding so vulnerable that my heart aches.

"Of course." I'll do anything to make him feel better about today, the weekend in general, and everything else that might be occupying his head, preventing positive thoughts.

"Thank you," Franco says, leaning his forehead against mine. I feel like him and I, wrapped in one coat, is the start of something that comforts the struggles in our lives.

[jellalism]

Genshin men x Reader: Telling the secret

You tell him you’re interested in people of the same gender. How does he react?

Characters: Albedo – Alhaitham – Ayato – Baizhu – Chongyun – Childe – Diluc – Gorou – Heizou – Itto – Kaveh – Kazuha – Kaeya – Tighnari – Venti – Wanderer – Wriothesley – Xiao – Zhongli

Genre: Comfort

Reader's gender: Gender neutral

Word count: 1345

Content warnings: None

Notes: For the purposes of this fic, I take every character here to be straight but supportive. Except Baizhu; I cannot for the life of me imagine him as heterosexual. I put ‘gay’ in between brackets; you can replace it in your mind with whatever your sexuality is. All the characters' reactions are platonic.

Read below or on AO3.

Albedo’s expression doesn’t change. “I see. I’ve heard of people like that. I never had the opportunity to meet one, however… Until you, apparently.”

“Maybe you’ve met one before, and you just didn’t know it?”

He smiles. “You’re right, I shouldn’t make assumptions. In any case, thank you for trusting me with this. That means a lot.”

Alhaitham is unfazed as he looks up from his book. “Okay. I imagine you may be worried about my reaction. But you don’t need to be. I think those who judge others for something harmless like loving someone of the same gender are foolish.” He says it matter-of-factly, like there is no doubt in the world.

“Thanks,” you say and sigh from relief.

“No need to thank me,” he says as he turns towards his book again. “Like I said, it’s foolish to judge people for being [gay]. I’m just doing the bare minimum.”

“But still... you take the effort to reassure me. Thank you.”

He looks up again and gazes at your face for a few moments. “Maybe I underestimated how much this means to you.” He closes his book, makes his way towards you and pulls you into a hug. “You’re a friend of mine. Don’t forget that. If anyone in the Akademiya gives you trouble over your sexuality, let me know. I can cause trouble in return.”

“That’s quite unusual, isn’t it?” says Ayato. “But unusual doesn’t mean wrong. Everyone has their own tastes. I hope you can find someone who makes you happy. And if you need help finding someone, let me know. I think it might be fun to play matchmaker.” He smiles mischievously. It might be prudent not to let him choose a date for you.

Baizhu looks relieved. “Well, finally you told me. Doesn’t it feel like a relief? You know, it’s not healthy to keep all kinds of secrets bottled up.”

“I know, but… this isn’t something easy to share.”

“Oh, I know, y/n. I’m gay myself, but it’s something I’ve learned not to share with just anyone. It makes my work easier. In any case,” he continues, “thank you for trusting me. I think this brought us closer together, hasn’t it?”

Chongyun looks surprised. “That’s possible? I didn’t even know! That’s so cool!” His eyes are full of excitement and curiosity. “How did you know? And do you have a partner?” He wants to know all about it.

After a while, you have to explain to him that some people are homophobic, and that he needs to keep your sexuality a secret. “People think it’s bad to love someone, just because the other person is of the same gender? That’s absurd. Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret!”

“I didn’t see that coming, comrade, but don’t worry!” Childe winks. “You won’t get any judgment from me. And besides, a bond of comradeship isn’t broken so easily.” He ruffles your hair. “You’ll be stuck with me for a long time.”

Diluc weighs his words carefully and takes a few moments before he starts speaking. “Thank you for telling me this, y/n. I can see that it means a lot to you, and I don’t take your trust in me lightly. Your secret is safe. And—” he takes the time to choose his words carefully “—I don’t judge you, of course. You’re a dear friend, and this won’t change that.”

Gorou is a little surprised, but not much. “Don’t worry about it! I’m an army general, homosexuality abounds here. If I were homophobic, the army would be the wrong place for me,” he says with a chuckle. “That said, not everyone got the memo. Even here there’s plenty of homophobes. But if anyone gives you trouble, let me know. I’ll be sure to have a stern word with them.” He stands up straight, full of confidence. Gorou really is someone you can count on.

Heizou saw it coming. “A little bit of intuition already told me that much. But I didn’t want to creep you out by letting you know earlier. And don’t worry about it: I haven’t told anyone, of course. I’ll keep any secret for you. Except criminal ones.”

“That’s just one more reason you’re always welcome in the Arataki gang,” Itto says enthusiastically. “We’re made up of outcasts! We welcome anyone who’s gone through hard times. And you, compadre, definitely qualify.” Before you know it, he wraps you in a tight hug.

Kaveh seems completely fine. “That’s beautiful. Love is a beautiful thing. You know, I really admire people like you. In loving the same gender despite what other people think, there’s a certain dedication to love.”

Your face flushes.

“Aww, are you embarrassed? No need to be.” He steps towards you and hugs you gently. “Thank you for telling me. You’re amazing, you know that?”

Kazuha doesn’t say a word, just immediately goes in for the hug. His mouth close to your ear, he softly says: “I hear in your voice that it’s been weighing on you. I’m sorry that you had to carry that on your own. I wish I could’ve borne it with you.” He gently rubs your back to reassure you. Everything about his reaction is full of love and warmth, and your tears threaten to spill over.

“Ah, I see.” Kaeya has a mischievous expression and seems on the verge of making a teasing comment. But when he looks at your anxious face, he becomes more serious and concerned. “This… has been hard for you, hasn’t it? I’m glad you told me, y/n. You’re a dear friend of mine, and your trust in me only makes our bond stronger, if you ask me.”

Tighnari is quite direct about it. “Don’t worry, I’m not homophobic. I’m a forest ranger and a scholar from Amurta. If anyone knows just how natural homosexuality is, it’s me. Does that alleviate your fears?”

“What, you think the God of Freedom would somehow have restrictive ideas about sexuality? Absolutely not.” Venti shakes his head vigorously, as if mere words are not enough to dispel the notion. “In fact, I know some songs about same-gender lovers.” And he strikes a chord on his lyre, starting a song.

Wanderer does not care one way or another. “Oh, so you’re like that? Well, it doesn’t concern me. You can just do whatever you like.”

“But…” You want to say something, but the words don’t seem to come.

“What?” He seems annoyed. “I won’t spill your secret to anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. Not like I’d have anyone to spill it to, even if I wanted to.” Then, with a softer voice: “You’re one of the few people who cares to spend time with me, after all.” You’re not sure you were supposed to hear that.

“Ah, I see. So that’s what has been weighing on you. I had been wondering.” Wriothesley says matter-of-factly. “I’m sorry to hear you didn’t feel safe enough to tell me until now. But I’m glad you told me now. I won’t betray your trust; you can count on me.” His expression tells you all you need to know: it’s full of love for you.

Xiao has lived a long time and seen many things. “It’s ridiculous to me that some mortals still have not gotten over the fact that some people are [gay],” he says, gazing out over the Guili Plains. He turns to face you, looking you straight in the eye with his intense gaze. “Listen to me. You did not deserve the hardships that people have given you over this. If anyone bothers you, let me know. They will listen to an adeptus.”

Zhongli places his hand on top of your head in a reassuring way. “I was aware some worry was weighing you down, but I did not know what it was. Worry not; things such as this don’t faze me.” He places a kiss on your forehead. “Love is beautiful, so I would never wish to oppose that. If ever you encounter trouble, you can depend on me.”

[cosmic-phantom-cafe]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Yandere pairings

╰┈➤ General HC of yandere pairs that rated if they work or not. TW: Yandere content!!, some implied NSFW and also THIS IS FROM MY OLD BLOG I DID NOT COPY FROM ANYONE IF ANYTHING I SCOOBY-DOO MYSELF THIS IS FROM MY OLD BLOG I HAVE THE DRAFT IN MY DOC TO PROVE IT ( also a lot of bad grammar!! English is my first language but my ass function on two-braincells or less)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ that would work ࿐ྂ

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ayato and Thoma

Compatibility: 9/10

The way you could look at this is good cop and bad cop, except you get bad cop first in the sense that Ayato will trap you into this arrangement, oh he's still nice but the sadism hidden beneath his smile will make itself known, and Thoma is the good cop, as in super nice and soft yandere who gives you closure. There is a big difference on how they handle you in your daily needs; as that's very important to them. We already know Thoma is very skilled in making meals, chores, anything of sort is taken care of by him. While Ayato makes sure to take care of any financial needs and trouble that follows you. With these generous acts, they lure you to only spend time with them unless Ayato has to do something, which then leads to you being under Thoma's care until he's done.

Now the true nature of Ayato as a bad cop shows up when you "act stupid" as he puts its, leaving the Kamisato estate and the eyes he put to follow you is barely a slim chance while escaping Inazuma? Impossible. As the commissioner Ayato doesn't hesitate to make sure that nobody is out there to help you with such plans, you're never leaving. Ayato is always smiling, but his condescending look and mocking smile makes you shrink in size when he's in a bad mood like this. Don't even think you can look at Thoma for help or ask him. His heart does hurt for you, truly it does, but his loyalty to the Kamisato clan is far greater, especially considering this is the safest way to keep you with him. There's a high chance he tells Ayato everything you say, including escape plans or anything that might raise concerns even if it leads to harsh punishments. So it's best to make due with what you can and smile with it.

The moment you step foot in Inazuma and catch Ayato's attention, his reputation as head of the Kamisato clan and of the Yashiro commission will put you in the spotlight. Your every word, move and even breathing will be monitored by everyone, friends or enemies of Ayato; it doesn't matter. Being his partner will make it so even walking down the streets you'll end up hearing whispers, being stared at by everyone. The pressure paired together with the fact you don't want to be in a relationship such as this will feel as if you're being crushed, but don't worry, Ayato and Thoma were only doing this because they wanted to show how terrible the outside world is, only a few public apperances at a distance are fine, from now on you prefer to be locked inside the Kamisato Residence right?

Who leads the punishments? Ayato of course. Dear archons Thoma doesn't have a mean bone in his body to ever think you did anything wrong, but Ayato is very different. You're his partner, and you'll, of course, be his spouse in the future, so he must make sure you know everything beforehand. There are certain lines you can cross and many more that you can't, especially concerning the people you choose to interact with. Remember, he can easily tell if you're faking your love for him. He has strict rules and you must follow them all, you'll end up in tears and bruises by the time he's done but luckily Thoma is there. He'll patch up any cuts and bruises, kissing away the tears, and gently hug you while explaining that Ayato is just looking out for you and wants what's best. Ayato might break you if he has to but Thoma is always there to pick up the pieces and soothe the pain away, after all that's what he loves doing best; taking care of you.

In the end you might end up living a very lavish and easy life if you follow Ayato's rules, you have nothing to really work for and nothing to do all day. You can have certain hobbies that Ayato approves of but at the end of it you'll practically be a pretty doll in the Kamisato estate. Ayato is a huge part of this power imbalance but Thoma's softness for you may help you through a lot of days if you behave well, he'll even try to lighten your punishments if he thinks of them as too much.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Wrio and Neuv

compatibility: 8/10

Since both yanderes have similar senses of mental and emotional skills level-wise they would have good communication in handling the idea of sharing you and making a proper schedule in doing so. They're both very busy and it ended up with you being locked in the Palais Mermonia in the Court of Fontaine for one month, mostly in Neuvillette's office or having a separate room right next door, while the other month you're in the Fortress of Meropide with Wriothesley, and it continues on repeat. Considering they're both very busy people, as the Iudex and Duke, so communication between them concerning you is done through letters or annual reports, In most cases when they do meet face to face it is to deliver you to the other when it their monthly turn.

Escape is not an option. Being shared by the chief of justice and duke of the fortress does not allow room for privacy or any sort of escape route. Not only are you under constant watch by the gards in both settings but by the yanderes themselves, whether be it Neuvillette's dragon-like powers or the cameras around the fortress. But even then you being out and about is rare as is as usually, you're with them in their office, Neuvillette may not be the first to incline a form of physical intimacy like having you on his lap during work but you will be seated on the couch or close by where he could see you, but with Wrio you will have to be straddled on his lap if he has a big amount of paperwork to go through. Both have similar ways of handling you so you never feel out of place despite the sudden change of what you see for the rest of the month.

In any case, considering their reputations you would have to be a special a special kind of stupid to even try going against the duke, referred to as his grace by all criminals residing in there because the only law in the fortress is his mere word, with enough experience as a boxer and a prison warden as well, let alone the literal Dragon Sovereign of Water with legit political power and such a great reputation that one word from him and you'd be shunned. The power imbalance is far too great to the point you're shaken, factor in anything but everything is stacked against you. But no worries because they're not cruel enough to torture you, only a few punishment will make you understand how you should behave!

Cutting straight to the facts, Wrio will always be the one who punishes you. Not saying Neuv is a saint, considering his power he can do a lot but between the two of them, Neuvillette is a lot more patient and lacks certain knowledge of how specifically you should or should not behave. Wrio does find certain bratty behaviors amusing but he runs quite a few strict rules which you should obey, whether you're in the Fortress or with Neuvillette, and if you cross them he might break this one month only agreement for a visit to make sure you know where you should stand

Overall this pair is not bad, if you behave you'll find life rather easy. Power imbalance is a matter where you should watch what you say and do but these two individuals only want you to love them, as your behavior towards others should only be nonchalant. Besides Neuvillette being patient and Wriothesley content with the arrangement, you can only hope you remain human. ⇢ ˗ˏˋ absolutely not ࿐ྂ **˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥** Kaeya and Diluc 

Compatibility: 6/10

..first of all what makes you think siblings share things-

Their pettiness knows no bounds, ever since the reveal they both loved you Diluc is in a constant state of irritation because of Kaeya and Kaeya, while ignoring Diluc, acts like himself, if not for the rare moments of throwing snide remarks. We all know Diluc's strong opinions about how useless the knights of Favonius are, to him Kaeya has no right to protect you or even TRY to, because he'd fail. Kaeya has the poker face that any spy would be proud of, but when told to his face by Diluc that he can't properly keep you safe his mood would sour instantly. Kaeya knows his behavior towards you exceeds normal feelings but at least he MEETS UP with you and TALKS, he definitely brought up that Diluc being a stalker was way creepier, he can't keep hiding behind the “knight in shining Armour” title

But, while Diluc's pettiness is reserved for them two only, Kaeya openly expresses it to you instead. He's proud of the fact he is able to build a proper relationship with you, and he will use it to his advantage; subtly hinting how Diluc is no fun, how he can get VERY dangerous when he snaps. He'd poke fun at Diluc's preference for grape juice, calling it unromantic, if Diluc is around he's more touchy, giving long and tight hugs whenever he drops you at his brother's place. Seriously, Kaeya was planning to be nice and peaceful but Diluc pushed first and decided “Nooooo, lemme bitch about it and continue being on bad terms”. As if Kaeya would take that when it came to you.

Now while Diluc might have the biggest resting bitch face that Celestia needs to award, he's soft for you. He'd like to spoil you, be sweet, protect you. But unfortunately for him he has to save those moments when it's just you two, and it's difficult when Kaeya is there always annoying him and making him lose his temper. But he gets his revenge, sprinkling some elemental fertilizers around Mondstad's gates for the knights to have something to busy themselves with, and drown Kaeya in paperwork so he can't meet with you. He's slacked off enough and Jean isn't too appreciative of it. You'll end up seeing Diluc chuckling and even smiling to himself, explaining how business is going very smoothly.

While they had a rough past and end up in each other's nerves a lot, Diluc and Kaeya still consider themselves brothers deep down. It's better if they remain passive aggressive while having more eyes on you than just arguing and killing each other. It would be awful if Kaeya had to lose the other charming part of his face, and Diluc would rather die than have your pretty eyes see him in a different light.

**˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥** Wrio and Lyney 

Compatibility: 1/10 Everything is not about you but at the same time it is, This pair is very very subtle about anything related to you but they're also at each other's throats verbally. They have no problem throwing hands behind your back but when you turn to look they act as if nothing happened; oh the wall looks nice, lemme count my cards again. In the past they MIGHT have come to an agreement but with what happened when Lyney and his siblinge investigated the Fortress, never. Wrio tried once, Lyney gave him a death stare and snark, and Wrio didn't bother trying again. Because of what happened Lyney considers Wrio too dangerous, it gets under his skin and he tries to make his visits in the Fortress more frequent to make sure you’re fine but it's always for a limited time because of Wrio. Whenever they meet up so you can be given to the other, rest assured that Lyney drops his smiling facade for a moment to throw at least one snide and irritated remarke at Wrio; who usually returns it. You're asked a hundred questions when you get at his place.

Questions are a LOT and they must be in detail- otherwise Lyney will assume you've been drugged to not remember anything. They range from how you're treated at the fortress, not just by the duke but by everyone, to what you ate, your activities- he even does full inspections to make sure not even a strand from your hair is missing. Now, Lyney is slightly impulsive and there were a lot of times when he asked those questions right in front of Wrio’s face, and of course Wriothesley answered those questions for you, saying there's no need for all this inspection which earned him an annoyed glare, a snap from Lyney to “Stay out of it, I'm checking up on my dove”. Even after taking you out Lyney just can't HELP but worry, you're finally getting some sun and good food, it must be so cramped in the fortress, are you SURE Wrio didn't do anything? Please answer honestly, Lyney will make sure to talk to him. Once you're back, Wrio isn't short of questions either. It's a dangerous world out there and Lyney is in THE dangerous organization of Teyvat, the magician didn’t take you anywhere near the fatui right? Even if you answered all the questions perfectly, after you're escorted back to your room, an argument immediately heats up between the two of them. They're at each other's throats, spewing threats of violence and might even get physical if something actually DID happen to you. This pair can’t even be considered a shared pair in all honestly, it's more like trying to verbally tug you closer to themselves completely, mostly because they don't wish to hurt you but their hatred for each other is too much. Lyney would always talk to you about it, saying that if you were just his you wouldn't have to live in suchca deadman land full of criminals. With him your whole life would be nothing but filled with fun tricks, magic and shows, full of color (and illusions). You'd be safe with his siblings and father would also protect you. Lyney always nitpicks when Wrio punishes you, sighing saying he'd never do something so crude when teaching you manners. Every day of your life would be like a dream, you'd be too happy to be upset, he loves you too much to punish you, it would be different if you were his… Just his. Wrio never expresses it verbally but he clearly minds it when Lyney gets like this. It's annoying and irritsting seeing he has to share you with such a delusional person who can't comprehend that the outside world is too dangerous. He could give an entire monologue of why you'd be much safer in the fortress, away from prying eyes and tainted hands of the filthy creatures that want to snatch you away. But he keeps to himself and drinks his tea, listening to Lyney's rambles gets so annoying, he’s glad you have him to properly care for you rather than you just being under the magician's watch. One thing is that they try to keep their issues between them, not wanting to put you in the middle of their crossfire. But with time patients are lost and the first to snap would be Lyney, he may lose his cool and try to deal with Wrio and dispose of him in some way, but Wrio always has backup plans, he'd hate to leave you alone under this reckless person. This pair is very messy but they always keep that mess away from your eyes. 

[0phantom0]

If only... E.W

pairings~ suicidalellie ×reader

warnings~ self harm, suicide, bipolar disorder, addiction. ( I have experience with all of these things so I'm not writing off stereotypes.)

summary~ after meeting ellie your life seems to have turned completely upside down in the best way possible, everything is going great until ellie has a sudden change of mood.

my breath lingered in the air, causing condensation to cover my cold phone. I was wordlessly staring at Ellie's contact. She had still not opened my message after three days of it being sent. I didnt even care about her replying anymore, I just needed a sign to say she was okay. Anything. whether it being a notification that she had read my message, or even the app saying that she was online. I waited. I waited more. Nothing, nothing at all. I started to feel a deep sorrow filling my lungs, like a dark murky water infested with everything i feared. it felt like it was flooding my entire body, that i was nothing but a hole of pain and helplessness.

When i first met Ellie, she was like a light in my foggy life, like a new path of happiness, something I had been searching for my entire life. She would always be there, right by my side with that gorgeous smile on her face, ready to crack one of her stupid dad jokes to hear the sound of my laugh echo through her ears. But for the past few weeks, I began to feel less of Ellie's presence. Almost as if that light guiding the path was flickering, dimming, losing its spark.

She had told me about her past. How she had problems communicating when things were getting bag again, having trouble explaining why she did what she did. Of course there was always a scientific explaination to Ellies pain, but she said that it didnt really explain in detail how she felt, the words on the screen didn't strike her with relisation and emotion. They were just letters.

my phone had turned off now, leaving me alone in the dark cold room of my house. the only thing warm about anything was the tears running out of my eyes and down my neck, creating an uncomfortable feeling of them dampening my shirt. My breathing quickend, feeling as though my lungs could not fill enough with all the air I had to suck in. Gripping my shirt, I stood up, shaking slightly from the sudden pace of movement. All the the thoughts flooding to my head, to many to keep up with, my brain speeding through visions of the mabye futre, and past. I was putting myself in horrific scenearios. And then it hit me. The ding of my phone, the slight, normally quiet sound was now like an ominous siren, screaming, daring me to pick up the phone. my shaking hand slowly edged towards the edge of my bed, I cautiously handled the device, almost as if in one wrong move it would shatter.

' one new notification from 'Ells<3''

my heart plummeted back into place a small smile that didnt quite reach my eyes found its way back onto my face. My fingers,shuddering slightly from the sudden adrenaline, move quickly across the screen trying to type in my password. Once I did I was exitedly clicking onto her contact, only for my exitment to be short lived and immediately replaced with worry and disatisfacation, for the uncanny message I got was:

' Ells<3 deleted a message'

I study the new words on my screen, waiting to discover something upon the message. My brain replied with a short message of

'?, you okay Ellie?'

she was quick to reply, supposing that she had been waiting there on the othere line for my answer.

' mhm. just love you'

usually I would have been quite flustered with the small message but in this instance it had a deeper, dispondent meaning. I was worrid. Terrifed even, then it hit me. Everything hit me. The way she had started to wear longer sleeves instead of her beloved band t-shirts, the unusual case of her sharpeners missing the blade, how she had been disancing herself with me. everything registers in my head, all the missing peices to these scatterd visuals.

panic took over my body as my vision clouded slightly, my heart felt heavy as my brain did not. withought registering what I was doing my legs were already on the move. clumsily walking towards my front door and grabbing my car keys. I left my door open, there was no time to shut it for what might come. My hands harshly squeezing the sharp edge of the keys, leaving a small irritated mark on my palm as I pressed random buttoms on the device, trying to unlock my car door.

minutes passed. I was driving as fast as I possibly could without death, but yet it did not seem fast enough. The pace of my breathing rapid as I tried to recall the route to Ellie's house. my face was still but slightly paniced as tears poured out of my eyes and into my open mouth. My heart felt small yet big at the same time, like it was being streatched and sprawled to withstand all the pain and dispair it was recieiving.

as I pulled up to Ellie's house, I instantly opend my car door and flung myself out with a newfound urgency, not bothering to get into a safer parking space instead of in the centre of the road. I was sobbing, almost screaming hystericlly now trying to search for Ellie's spare key she always left under the door matt. A vision clouded my memory of Ellie and I standing drunkenly at the front porch of her home, we were laughing as she scurried to show me her 'awesome' hiding space for her dinosour shaped key she got custom designed for herself. Mabye if my past self saw myself now, trying to break down the door because I couldnt remember where she kept that stupid fucking key, I might of avoided the relationship entirely, or made it her life mission to do anything she could to stop Ellie from having another episode.

I snapped back into reality as the door swung open, my right shoulder now cut and bleeding from the repetitive impact onto the door, I rush across her kitchen and up the stairs, screaming Ellies name, the words now sounding forgein on my tounge, I could feel the desperation of my voice. The vibrations of the sounds itching and clawing at my throat, all while I grasped at the railings of the staircase, hauling myself upstairs.

I turned every corner I could, trying to be as silet as I could as I heard my weeping echo through the hauls. I heard a quiet buzz from the bathroom light across the hall, the yellow hues and tones illuminating the dark and eerie walls. I vigilantly tread through to the bathroom as I peaked my head throught the door.

at first I saw nothing, then the small strands of auburn hair floating from the bathtub caught my attention.

My breath hitched as I called out her name.

No repsonse. But I still heard a wavering and asthamtic breath.

I rushed towards her side, yanking the shower curtain off the rod in the process, I was met with the sight that would always be in the back of my mind, waiting to pounce as soon as I kept my gaurd down, that would keep me up at night screaming till my lungs bled and clawing at my skin.

Ellie layed there, bleeding out into the drain of the bath tub, with a pale face and cold skin, deep cuts carved into her arms with a bottle of ketamine empty, laying there, mocking me by her side.

I shrieked louder for anyone to hear, I was no longer breathing instead bawling and seize my phone from behind me, calling 911.

as I press the call button my my phone with my shaking hands, still sobbing hystericaly as my clothes were now soaked with the salty liquid I felt her cold hand touch mine.

' Hello 911 whats your emerancy?' I heard the dispatchers fuzzy voice from my phone as I dropped it to the floor, my entire attention on the fact Ellies hand was rubbing against mine. I was silent, too shocked an hurt to say anything at all.

'its okay baby' she whisperd and splutterd, she tried to reach her hand to caress my face one last time before I saw death take over her eyes and her hand drop with a thud against the bathtub.

I yelled and screamed and cried, trying to get anyone to bring her back to me, trying to convince myself that she was messing with me, thats she was okay really and not like the sight I had unfolded infront of me.

'sweetheart is everything okay? Police and Ambulence are on their way'

I didn't respond grasping at everything I could to steady myself as my hysterics rocked my body, smearing tearss and blood, everything I could pick up was thrown, smashed glass and everything everywhere, my head felt unsteady as I smacked it off the sink and everything went dark.

to this day I still wonder if I wasn't enought to make her stay, If I wasn't enough to fill the hole in her heart, she filled mine, but why couldn't I do the same.

if only life hadn't planned out this way, she might be here in my arms, blabbering on about her space facts she loved so dearly.

if only.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hi guys! sorry i just dumped all that on you. I sobbed while making this but at the same time it was so relaxing.

tags: @twoshadesblonder @bready101

[dykecubes]

I was a hardcore dream fan up until the point the initial grooming accusations (the stuff in from the “The Truth” video).

I think a lot of people call Dream fans a cult kind of like,,,,, either insultingly or hyperbolically. Like they aren’t really thinking that the group is cult-like, and are saying it just because of the extreme devotion to dream through controversies. As a former fan tho, my experience genuinely does feel somewhat cult-like to me (I don’t want to downplay real cults, but I don’t have another word).

Cults often target people who are lonely and vulnerable and offer them community in return for not questioning things. I joined the dream fan community a couple months into the pandemic. I was very lonely. I had depression that I had just started getting treatment for (literally one session and I was still unmedicated) at my college, before getting ripped away from my hope things were going to get better. I wasn’t out to my parents, so living at home again meant getting constantly misgendered.

in short, I wasn’t feeling great. And Dream- you have to understand how much of his fan community (at least on tumblr) is into the idea that he loves his fans, and he loves his friends. And getting to watch those friendships felt like living vicariously. And having someone tell me they loved me, even if I knew I was just another fan helped. For a long time during the pandemic, the dream team were the literal highlight of my day. They were often the reason I got out of bed. I knew even then that that wasn’t healthy, but I was having trouble figuring out how else to get through things.

even after going back to college after the first vaccine had come out, Dream (watching and re-watching videos, interacting with the community) remained a pillar of my mental health. Less so, but if I needed to calm down, I watched a dream video. A lot of my free time was spent in fan spaces. I really, really put him on a pedestal.

I cannot describe to you how anxious I was when the grooming allegations came out. I genuinely started feeling nauseous all the time. I was checking my phone obsessively. I’m not going back to look at these, but I remember that dream had some initial responses (long Reddit post and whatnot). There wasn’t enough there to really make anything clear/disproven and the girls looked like they had a lot of evidence, so I was still anxious and sick and feeling like I was waiting in limbo to find out what was really going on. Trying to prep myself to accept that things might not be what I hoped, as much as I didn’t want to believe it.

when I logged on, the vibe in my tumblr circle was… very different. A lot of people (except for a few that ended up leaving with me) were acting like everything was disproven and it was all good and we could go back to normal times, with a few posts about how disgusting it was that someone would fake something like that. My first response was, honestly, confusion. I thought that I must have been being stupid and missed something or not understood something. So I politely sent an ask to a big name in the community that I trusted to be smart and explain things well, saying that I wasn’t sure we had enough evidence to really dismiss the accusations and asking why she thought that everything was disproven. She gave me exactly the same information that I already knew, while calling me stupid and saying that if I didn’t believe dream that I should just get the fuck out.

I felt suddenly, unpleasantly woken up. I wasn’t being stupid or missing evidence that would fully exonerate dream (maybe there was evidence like that in “the truth”. I never watched it, couldn’t). They just wanted to believe Dream wasn’t guilty, so they did, and twisted things until that made sense. Because they wanted to feel excited and loved again, instead of the crushing anxiety and dread I was in. And I thought about my own reactions, and I knew that I had been so fucking anxious over someone I didn’t even know because secretly I also wanted Dream to be exonerated. I wanted to bury my head in the sand and pretend that it simply wasn’t true because of what being a dream fan gave to me: bits of happiness and community.

And I was really scared of myself. Because I wanted to not believe those girls, not because I thought I had evidence otherwise, but because it would make me feel better. And I knew that was really, really shitty, and that that was something I had to stop in its tracks. And that I NEEDED to not be as obsessive or put anyone on a pedestal as much again. Because I would do the same thing- wanting to make excuses to keep my own happiness. And that’s not ok.

I stopped following almost everyone overnight and stopped watching anything Dream-related cold turkey (<—I realize this probably sounds stupid but I genuinely watched so much dream stuff it was an actual change in my life). I’m still in the mcyt space, mostly hermitcraft, but I make sure that I never put anyone on a pedestal like that again, and I have a way healthier internet to real life ratio.

Coming out of that space genuinely felt like something I was grieving. The intensity of my emotions, both in it and coming out, wasn’t healthy, and I’m really glad I left. if I wasn’t faced with a situation where someone was potentially materially being hurt, I don’t know if it could have happened, I was so embroiled. For obvious reasons tho, that crossed a line and luckily on the other side I had people that were kind to me when I was still kinda reeling.

anyway, tldr, my hot take with this situation is that more dream fans wake up and realize he’s a piece of shit, and get grace and kindness while doing so. Sorry for how long this is- hopefully I get my point across that I genuinely believe that at least some dream fan spaces are intensely unhealthy, more than some people outside of them might consciously think

anon if I’m being honest with you this whole situation has me thinking a lot about this post from a while ago and at the moment, yes, it is frustrating seeing his fans deny the evidence right in front of them but I really can’t help but hold a level of sympathy for them

I was never really a hardcore dream stan but I was very adjacent to that community back when I still had Twitter and TikTok and spent a lot of time defending dream and his community whenever criticisms of him came up, I very much disliked the idea of calling dream stans a cult because I spent probably about 5 years or so of my life in stan communities on Twitter and I’m very much of the opinion that they get a bad rap, but it was around the time of his grooming allegations that I stopped defending him as well and came to understand what people meant when they called his community a cult

while I still don’t fully like using that word to describe his community because I know people who are survivors of cults and don’t want to downplay their severity, I will also say it’s alarming how easy it is to apply the BITE method to dream’s fanbase, especially information and thought control

that being said, even if it technically is not a cult it’s still a very intense community and it’s still difficult to get out of (speaking specifically on the way former dream stans are often bullied for leaving) and obviously the connection you’d have to such an intense community like that is going to be a serious emotional one so I understand why a lot of them might still be holding on

so I agree, I hope if fans of dream choose to leave his community they’re treated with grace and kindness

thank you for sharing, anon, I hope you’re doing well <3

[saphronethaleph]

Backpack Bnuuy

“Your training,” Yoda warned. “You must complete your training!”

“The whole point is-” Luke began, biting off the words. “Look, I know it’s a trap, but my friends are in trouble! The reason why it’s a good trap is that it’s going to work, and it’s going to work because I won’t abandon my friends. I don’t want to be someone who would abandon my friends.”

Yoda looked thoughtful.

“A good point, you make,” he conceded. “Still. Face Vader alone, you must not.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Luke objected.

“A choice, there always is,” Yoda chided. “A good choice, less often. However…”

His cane swung up to point at Luke. “Wait there.”

Luke stood there as instructed, confused, then glanced at Ben’s spirit.

“Do you know what this means?” he asked. “Was he always this odd?”

“Not really, no,” Ben replied. “He’s really been able to focus in the last few months.”

Yoda came back out of his hut, holding a fuzzy animal.

“Here,” he said, putting it down. “A travel sized Jedi Master, this is.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that, Master,” the animal replied, shaking out his long ears. “Good day. I am Master Ikrit.”

“Small enough to fit in your ship, he is!” Yoda said, with a nod. “A pacifist, he also is.”

“I can explain myself, Master,” Ikrit replied.

“...have you been there all along?” Luke asked.

“I was actually on Yavin Four,” Ikrit said. “Meditating on the Force. I… lost track of time a bit.”

“Missing for four hundred years, you were,” Yoda pointed out.

“I said I was sorry, Master,” Ikrit replied. “I did skip the whole… massacre thing, though.”

His tail flicked slightly, then he launched himself in a Force-guided leap that placed him neatly on Luke’s shoulders.

“As my old teacher says, I am a pacifist,” the lapine-feline Jedi Master said. “Fortunately, the World Between Worlds does not involve violence. Do you have a backpack?”

Luke blinked, confused.

“...a backpack?” he repeated, carefully.

“I will be your emergency evacuation mechanism,” Ikrit told him. “Through my four hundred years of meditation on the Force, I became aware of the ways in which distance itself is an illusion. A very persistent illusion, to be sure, but I can take you from one place to another in an instant.”

His ear bounced. “...so long as I already know the destination, that is. Distance is an illusion, but getting lost is not. I only got here by following my padawan bond with Master Yoda.”

Luke still felt confused.

“What’s a padawan?” he asked.

“An old term, it is,” Yoda supplied. “A Jedi term. A term for the one who learns while a Knight or Master teaches.”

Around a day later, Yoda was humming to himself and cooking when there was a thump outside.

“Master?” Ikrit called. “Do you know how to heal? I’ve got Luke and his hand, but… there’s an and there.”

“Always rushing around, young kids these days are,” Yoda grumbled, taking his cane and stumping out of the house. “Lost, you did?”

“I don’t think so,” Luke replied, staring at the stump of his hand, then winced as Yoda began making passes over the gap and lifted his severed hand to intersect with the stump. “I lost the fight, but… Leia and the others escaped. I can feel it. I won.”

“Good,” Yoda said. “You did learn the lesson.”

“...does that whole process of going from world to world involve hallucinations?” Luke asked, looking at Ikrit and away from the healing process going on with his missing hand. “Because I swear I saw a really big wolf.”

“Oh, that’s Dume,” Ikrit said. “I’m… not really sure what’s up with him. He’s nice but I’ve not spoken to him much. I think he used to be human?”

His ears flicked. “Sorry I didn’t catch the lightsaber.”

“All right, that is,” Yoda said, firmly. “Make a new one, we will.”

He pointed his stick at Ikrit. “And then, take him to Yavin, you will. Get in touch with his friends from there, he should. Visitors, I do not want.”

[vashs-turtleneck]

Say my name.

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: After your heartfelt reunion with your boyfriend, Vash realizes how much he's missed hearing you say his name. Pairing: Eriks!Vash x fem!reader Word count: 6.5k Content: smut, angst, established relationship, oral, p in v sex, reunion sex, very service top Vash A/N: bro this took me so long. I put more effort into this than anything else I have ever written. Anyway, this is my first ever smut fic so uh please enjoy (had to make it eriks because he does things to my brain chemistry)

NSFW below, 18+ only, minors do not interact!

Vash holds your hand through the rickety, quaint house, helping guide you as you walk, avoiding the floorboards he knows creak louder than the others. As much as Granny and Lina adore you, he didn't feel like explaining why he was sneaking you in so late at night. Not only that, he didn't want to explain your relationship to them just yet. After all, the two of you haven't even gotten the chance to properly talk yet, about what your reunion after his two year absence means for you both.

Vash finally guides you into his little bedroom, quietly shutting and locking the door behind you two. He cringes at the how the door hinges creak loudly into the hallway, hoping it wasn't enough to wake anyone.

"So 'Eriks', huh? Did you pick the name all by yourself?" You tease him as your eyes dart around the room, taking in the space your lover has been living in these passed two years. Or... he was your lover. Is he still your lover? For all you know he found someone else during his time here. No, wait, that can't be right. He just snuck you into his bedroom.

Vash chuckles quietly, his gaze never leaving you. "Yeah... guess I did."

You can feel his eyes burrowing into you. His gaze follows you as you curiously take in the room, as you pat the bed draped in old linens, as you look out the window, taking in the scenery, the stars and moons illuminating the sky above. You've always had a tendency to look up at the sky.

God, you're as beautiful as he remembers.

He's pulled out of his own thoughts when you speak again, realizing he's been staring at you the whole time.

"Nice little spot you have all to yourself. Sheryl and Lina are both so sweet. They really do love you, I can tell. They're like family now, hm?" You say as your eyes finally meet his, your voice remaining soft, yet a hint of somberness weaving its way in. "You... You have a good life here."

You feel your heart start to beat faster, your head filling with a million questions that you're almost too scared to know the answers to. What if there was no room for you in his life anymore? What if he wanted to leave everything about his old self in the past, including you? What if, what if, what if...

You start to absentmindedly pick at the skin around your nails and rubbing your palms, subconsciously trying to calm and ground yourself. You're starting to lose yourself to your own mind, horrible thoughts filling your head like a poison.

Vash immediately notices the change in your tone, the subtle, shaky uncertainty in your voice, the way you anxiously play with your hands... Old habits die hard, huh?

"I do. The people here have been very kind to me. It's mostly quiet, apart from when I get myself into trouble. I'm grateful every day for it."

He takes a step towards you, his arms outstretched slightly.

"But, my life here is... incomplete without you by my side, mayfly."

He wants to hold you, feel your body against his, remind himself that you're really here, but he hesitates. What if you despise him for abandoning you? For leaving you behind to think he was dead? Worse, what if you hate him for the sins he's committed? For destroying July and taking the lives of its people? Not that he could ever blame you if you did. He hates himself for it. It's the whole reason he left you behind in the first place. How could he ever face you again after he became the walking demon with the 60 billion double dollar bounty on his head? He deserves every bit of venom spat his way for the things he's done, every bit of the nickname 'The Humanoid Typhoon'.

Yet, despite how much he knows he doesn't deserve you, he wants you so bad. Every moment without you had been agony. He didn't know where you were, how you were doing, if you were even alive. Hell, he wondered if he killed you in July too. So when he finally saw your face again, he swears he felt his heart beat for the first time in two years.

"Mayfly, I... I don't deserve you. I don't. I'm a monster." He takes another step towards you, trying to bridge the gap between you both. "...but I can't live without you. I... I need you. Here. With me."

He's fighting back tears, trying desperately to keep himself together. His vision is blurring from the tears pooling in his eyes, and all he can see is your wide-eyed expression. You're so beautiful, even if you might be about to break his heart.

"If you don't feel the same, I understand. If you want to hit me and yell at me for all I've done, I won't put up a fight. If... If you hate me-" Vash's words are cut short when you rush towards him and plant your lips against his in a feverish kiss, throwing your arms around his shoulders and clinging to him desperately.

Vash stays motionless and rigid in a moment of shock before he's flooded with relief at the feeling of your lips, your body, just you. His prosthetic naturally encircles your waist, pulling you in closer as his flesh hand tenderly cups your cheek, tilting your head to meet his lips with a practiced touch that makes it feels like you were never apart.

You became a shell of a person the day you watched him fall from the sky, like an angel stripped of their wings. You spent the passed two years believing, convincing yourself he had to be alive, or else you would have been lost completely.

With his lips finally pressed to yours, you feel whole again.

Vash can feel your lower lip tremble against his own, your tears mingling with his against both your faces as you each pull the other closer, closer, until there's no space left between your bodies, his stubble scratching your chin.

Your lips meet again and again, each kiss more desperate than the last, pants and sobs and the sounds of lips smacking filling the otherwise dead silent room.

"I missed you." You breathe against his lips, voice cracking from the overwhelming feelings of relief, love, and pain flooding you.

And Vash whines in turn, prosthetic tightening its grip around you.

"I missed you too. So much. Every day I thought about you." He whispers back, his voice strained, flesh hand pulling your face closer by the back of your neck. "I love you, I love you, I missed you."

"Love you too. Missed you so much..." Your voice comes out as a sob, trembling and broken. Your hands tangle into his soft locks. His hair is much longer now, the golden blonde mixing with dark raven.

You feel his tongue tease your lower lip, the warm muscle begging for entry, and you're happy to grant it. When your tongues entangle, he feels himself shudder with want, his body heating up as he gets reacquainted with the taste of your mouth. His hands move down your body, sliding down your waist, past your hips, and hooking themselves beneath the plush of your thighs. He lifts you up with ease, encircling your legs around his waist.

It's not close enough. He needs you closer.

He carries you to the edge of his bed, gently lowering you and as he towers over you, broad shoulders caging you in beneath him. He pulls himself from your lips and holds his weight on his hands, palms against the mattress beside your head. His face is flushed, lips wet with your kiss.

Vash is silent as he looks at your face, tears still staining his cheeks, his gaze reverent and adoring, yet filled with tragedy, like he almost doesn't believe you're real. His flesh hand cups your face again. His thumb traces your lips, your cheekbone, your jawline, his palm resting against your cheek. He takes in your features, committing the way your face has changed over the past two years to memory. You have new lines around your eyes, signs of how time kept passing for you, even without him around, signs of aging that he knows you won't see on his face. Fuck, he's lost this precious time with you, years he'll never be able to get back. Gone, just like that.

He'll be damned if he loses anymore time with you.

His hand trails down, thumb sliding along the side of your neck, down to the bit of your collarbone peeking from under your shirt. His breath hitches at the feeling of your soft skin beneath his hands, how your legs stay wrapped around his hips, your arms clinging to his shoulders like a lifeline. He can feel your body heating up at his touch, like it remembers him. He's missed you. He's missed your touch. So much.

"Please, I- I need to see you. Please." He begs, voice already breathless and needy.

"N-Need to see you too. I need you so much." Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine, but at this point you don't care. He's here. You have him again. You need him.

Vash wraps his prosthetic around your waist as he gently lifts your upper body up enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. With your shirt finally off, you can feel contrast of his arms on your body, the cool metal of one, and the warmth of the other.

"I missed you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for leaving you, mayfly. I'm so-"

You stifle his apologies with another hot kiss, your hands weaseling between your bodies and working quickly to take off his white button-up. Your fingers fumble with the buttons until his shirt is open, exposing the scarred muscles beneath. His hands leave you for just long enough to push the fabric off his shoulders. When his shirt is finally off, both his hands move to the back of your neck, pulling you in for another heated kiss, making you both groan into each other's mouths.

Your hands trail along his chest and back, tracing over the myriad of rough, raised flesh. Your touch is gentle, as though you're trying to heal him. He wishes you could. He wishes your touch could take away his 150 years of anguish, only made worse in your absence, and heal this body he's so carelessly destroyed. Yet, he knows he deserves every bit of it for what he's done. If nothing else, at least your touch is a momentary reprieve from it all, a moment for him to just be.

His hips twitch when he feels your hands trail down his chest, over his abdomen, to the hem of his pants, fingers working to undo his belt and buttons, working them off his body.

"M-Mayfly..." Vash mutters, his breath hot against your face. He works the rest of your clothes, practiced hands swiftly unclasping your bra before moving to peel off your pants, tossing the garments somewhere in the room, leaving you both in just your underwear.

Vash gently pushes your shoulders, moving you slowly like you're made of glass and laying you flat against the bed. He sits back on his knees to get a good look at you, propping himself between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes practically glowing as he drinks you in.

You're suddenly filled with this overwhelming shyness as you're laid almost completely bare in front of him. It's been so long since you've been looked at like this, and you can feel the heated rising to your face. Your body has naturally changed since he's last seen you, and the thought that he'll be disappointed weasels its way into your head, flooding you with insecurity. Without thinking about it, your hands move up to cover yourself, draping your arms over your chest and stomach.

Vash's gaze break from your body before darting up, his eyes softening when he sees your blushing and flustered face.

"Oh, sweetheart..." he coos, bringing himself down to pepper your face with soft kisses, stubble grazing your face. "Come on now. Don't hide from me. Please? I want to look at you. I love looking at you." His large hands gently wrap around your wrists, trying to coax you to uncover yourself. "Please. Let me see you. I missed looking at you so much."

Oh, how silly you are to think he'd look at you with anything but pure adoration and worship. He's only ever shown you love and acceptance, just as you have shown him. Vash can't even fathom the idea that you'd see yourself as anything other than breathtakingly perfect. Your body is his place of worship, every sound you make a prayer.

So, with a quiet whine, you let him pull your arms from your body, his hands gently pinning your wrists next to your head flat against the mattress.

"There you are..." Vash whispers adoringly, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose before leaning back again to look down at you.

He takes in the sight of you beneath him for the first time in two years, his hands letting go of your wrists and tracing up and down your curves slowly, savoring the feeling of your warm and soft flesh. The world hasn't been kind to you in his absence, your body baring new scars he knows weren't there before, and he hopes to God you didn't get all those looking for him, sacrificing yourself for his unworthy soul.

"So beautiful, mayfly." Vash purrs. His hands trail up your middle, up your sternum, before parting to grope your breasts, thumbs rolling over the perked buds. The act sends a wave of heat straight down between your legs, your hips involuntarily writhing against the bed. In turn, your reaction makes Vash suck in a breath, his hips gently grinding against the plush of your thigh, letting you feel his hardened cock.

You both need this. Badly.

"Mmph- you like that, huh, baby? That feel good?" Vash whispers, voice hoarse with desire as he circles his thumbs over your nipples again, this time rolling his hips right against your clothed sex.

You howl at the pleasure, hips bucking to meet his own. You bite your lower lip to muffle your cries, nodding your head up at your lover. "M-Mhmm!"

With a lewd grunt, Vash brings his head down, pressing his lips to your inviting body. He sucks on your neck, nibbling and licking slowly and sensually, finding the spots he remembers would make your breath hitch, your back arch, and your grip tighten around him. He lets out a deep groan against your neck when you react the way you used to, your voice pitching up to a needy, wanton moan when he sucks on your neck just right. You tangle your fingers in his hair as shivers dance up your spine, rolling your hips up against his.

He leaves a trail of kisses along your form, giving special attention to any scars he comes across along the way, just as you had done for him countless times before. His lips reach your chest, kissing along your sternum before moving his mouth to one of your breasts, his skillful lips enveloping your perked nipple, tongue circling the peak. His hand moves up to massage your other breast, kneading the soft flesh in his palm.

And you can only do what your body tells you to, your voice quivering into what only comes so naturally to you when he's worshipping your body like this.

"Vash." His name leaves your lips as a broken moan, but they hit him like a typhoon, shattering him to pieces.

Vash's body tenses, all his actions pausing as his lips part from your nipple with a quiet smack, his hot, ragged breaths against the wet skin of your breast. He tilts his head up, bringing his face closer to yours, letting your noses brush and his forehead press intimately against yours. His beautiful baby blues drink you in, eyes upturned into a longing, pleading stare. His eyes captivate you, trapping you under his gaze. From this close, you feel like you could drown in them.

"Please... Say it again." His voice is raw, fragile, and begging.

You have to blink yourself out of your trance, completely ensnared by him. Even though he's the one begging you right now, with that look on his face, you'd do anything he asked. So, without hesitation, you say it again.

"Vash."

And he whimpers.

A name he hasn't heard in two years, lost to his new life. A name that, despite the heavy weight it carries now, was gifted to him by someone very important. A name that has always rolled of your tongue with a softness he never felt he deserved, that he used to hear you cry out over and over when your voice was pulled taut with pleasure. His name.

He didn't realize how much he missed hearing it, and especially how it sounds leaving your lovely lips.

"Again. Please."

"Vash."

"One more time. I beg you."

"Vash."

Vash groans again, his eyes fluttering before pressing his lips to yours again, catching your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away.

"Mmph... Fuck, mayfly. The things you do to me."

His lips capture yours in a hot, wet kiss, tongues tangling, his hips undulating against yours and seeking out that little bit of friction between your bodies. He can feel the heat coming off your core against his hard cock, and his mouth waters as he thinks about how wet you must be right now.

"Need to taste you, mayfly."

Vash pulls back before he stands up between your legs and pulls you by your hips to the edge of the bed, grinding himself against your thigh again. His fingers hook to the elastic of your panties, his eyes not missing the wet spot forming on them already before meeting your gaze again. "Let me take these off you, baby."

And fuck, you are absolutely reeling right now, barely able to form a thought as he continues to handle your body with so much care and deadly precision, like he know it better than you. And really, he does. Despite the time you two have spent apart, his confidence in his knowledge of your body and his desire to please you is naturally weaving its way back into his mind like it's pure instinct. You can't tear your eyes from him as he stares down at you with the darkened, hungry eyes of a man that looks like he's just found his first sip of water in days on No Man's Land.

He tilts his head as you stare at him silently, taking in your half-lidded, hazy eyes. His fingers unhook from your panties, palms resting against your thighs.

"Mayfly? Do you want me to? I won't do it unless you tell me to."

You whimper needily, shifting your hips back and forth, unintentionally teasing him as your body begs for more of him.

"Please. Please, Vash. I need you to touch me." You beg, your voice shaking. You need him right now, both body and mind begging him to do something, anything to ease the ache between your thighs.

With a smirk that flashes his sharp canines and sends another shivering wave of heat to your core, Vash swiftly pulls your panties down your legs, letting them drop to the floor.

With you completely exposed to him now, Vash hooks his hands under your thighs, pressing your legs up and opening you up to himself, spreading you out on the mattress before him and watching as your slick drips from your sex as he practically folds you in half.

"Breathtaking." He purrs, staring down at your sweet flesh. "And so wet already."

"It's... It's because of you." You say back, your voice a pathetic, high-pitched whimper, feeling yourself pulse with anticipation.

Vash chuckles breathily, his eyes never leaving your sopping cunt as he lowers himself to his knees, propping himself between your thighs.

"I know it is."

With a soft sigh, Vash presses his tongue against your cunt, taking his time as his licks his way from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit, gathering your sweet juices on the flat of his tongue with an audible eagerness. His mouth presses a fiery kiss to your clit, his lips wrapping around your little sensitive bud as his tongue flicks it with a skillful precision that is downright deadly, like it's all muscle memory coming back to him in this moment, as though his place in this world is right here between your thighs.

For Vash, you truly are an oasis on this desolate planet. In a life that's been so lonely and so filled with tragedy, you have been a solace that he never felt he deserved, yet he selfishly let himself indulge in. After being by his lonesome for so long, how could he ever turn away from your open arms? You unconditionally loved and accepted his broken mind and tattered body, and he was never able to deny your affections, no matter how much he told himself he didn't deserve them.

You are the only piece of heaven he's ever had.

"Mmmh... Taste so good, angel." He coos against your sex, licking his lips of your slick before tonguing another stripe up your cunt. "It's been too long. I'm absolutely parched for you, baby."

"Oh fuck, Vash!" You gasp out, your hands moving to tangle through his two-toned hair, holding it back and away from his face. You can feel his stubble grazing your plush folds as he eats you.

"Say it again, mayfly." He mutters against your cunt, the vibrations from his voice sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you.

Your mind is a pleasure-filled haze. You're barely able to think as your lover positively devours you, gorging himself on your dripping sex like it's more for his own pleasure than it is for yours.

"Ahh... w-wha-?" You manage to mumble, barely understandable.

His head pops up from between your thighs, hungry baby blues staring back up at you.

"My name. Say my name again for me, angel. Please."

"V-Vash..."

He growls as he dives back down to your cunt, his tongue teasing your entrance as his nose presses against your clit.

"Say it softer. Please."

"Vash..."

"Say it louder."

"Vash!"

His hips rut against the mattress as he pleasures you, pathetically rubbing his still-clothed cock against the old linen in tandem with his mouth. He can feel his boxer-briefs soaking up the pre-cum from his engorged tip. His body is aching for you, but he'll be damned if he doesn't make you come on his tongue at least once before he fucks you. He needs to taste you as you come.

His right hand slowly trails up the soft meat of your thigh, fingers dancing along your hot skin until they reach your pulsing flesh, swirling his fingers over your wet heat. Then, he gently presses his middle finger inside you, the long digit curling and pressing against your warm walls, gently stretching you as he takes you apart from the inside out.

You have to throw your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in white hot pleasure, hips undulating against his mouth and hand, seeking out more of the pleasure he's giving you.

"This okay, mayfly? Feeling good?" Vash whispers before circling his tongue over your clit again.

You don't trust yourself to speak right now, instead nodding your head frantically as you moan and wail silently against your hand.

Vash groans hoarsly when he sees just how well he's taking you apart, eyes fluttering closed as he focuses entirely on your pleasure. When he feels your body relax around his finger, he slips in a second digit, his dexterous middle and ring fingers meticulously and lovingly abusing that sweet spot inside you until he has you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

Your hand gently tugs at his hair, biting into your palm and clenching your eyes tight, your thighs trembling against his head. You pull your hand away from your lips just long enough to call out to him, your voice breaking, your body ready burst, "Vash! M' gonna c-come..."

He growls against you when he hears his name leave your sweet lips in a such desperate tone, tongue lapping away at you more eagerly, your juices dripping from his hand.

"Yes, baby. Come. Come all over my tongue. Wanna taste you..." he grunts, panting as he fucks you with his tongue and fingers and grinds himself against the mattress. Fuck, he's gonna come all over himself if he doesn't reel it back.

His mouth devours you, digits pumping faster into your fluttering cunt as he chases your high.

When Vash feels your body tighten and convulse against his fingers, your sweet whimpers filling his ears, he moans louder than you, as if your pleasure is his pleasure, and it takes every bit of willpower in him to not come along with you.

Vash has always denied himself the pleasures in life, deeming himself unworthy for the sins he believes he's committed. But when it comes to you, to your pleasure, he's always eager to let himself indulge, his tongue lapping away at your sex like your come is a reward for his efforts until his mouth is dripping with you.

When he feels your body relax, your muscles unflexing, he licks one last strip over your cunt before pulling his mouth and fingers away. He licks your sweet cream from his digits, his other hand removing the boxers that have grown unbearably tight from his lower half. Slowly, almost like he's reluctant to leave his place from between your thighs, he raises himself up and towers over you again.

"You're so perfect, angel." He whispers, voice hoarse with desire, and you can see his need from the way his cock twitches as he stares down at you, his big hands holding you by the softness of your thighs. He brings his pelvis forward, gliding the hard length of himself along your dripping pussy, coating himself with a mix of your come and his own saliva.

"Vaaash~" You call to him weakly, your head still fogged from your intense orgasm, but your body craving him. Your hips rise to meet his own, and he grinds against you more desperately.

"You want this, angel? Wanna feel me inside you?" His tone is breathy and light, almost teasing, but you know more than well enough that what he's seeking right now above all else is your consent. How you got so lucky as to find yourself such a caring and thoughtful man (plant) is beyond you.

"Want it more than anything, angel." You purr back, using the loving nickname he's given you back at him as your hands reach for his shoulders. Because let's be honest, if anyone is deserving of the nickname, it's him.

A soft smile crosses his face when he sees you reach for him and, like a moth to a flame, he leans down towards your touch. One of your hands clasp over his shoulder, gripping him and pulling him closer to you. The other traces your thumb over his cheekbone, your finger dancing over that adorable birthmark under his left eye.

"Don’t go stealing my words now, mayfly." He teases back before his lips cover yours. When he pulls away, you feel him pant against your face, his body shaking and his cock gliding over you folds. Despite how much he's been holding back, putting your pleasure far before his own, you can feel now just how badly he wants this. He's at his limit.

Still, a pang of concern crosses over his handsome features, always thinking of you despite the agony he's in right now.

"If... If it hurts, I want you to tell me. Tell me and I'll sto-" You shush him before he can keep going, your thumb quickly moving from his cheekbone to his lips.

"You won't hurt me, Vash." You whisper tenderly, trying to ease the worries undoubtedly forming in that pretty head of his.

Hìs face softens again, his expression changing from one of concern to one that can be described as nothing short of reverent. His eyes might as well be hearts from the amount of love you see in them. With a shaky sigh, he nods his head once, and you move your hand from his face to his other shoulder, holding him tightly against you.

"Alright." He places doting little kisses to your temple and cheek, his hands on your thighs gently parting your legs further. "Let me take care of you, mayfly."

One of his arms weaves its way between your bodies, grasping his cock and aligning himself with your inviting entrance, placing a gentle pressure against your core with the tip of his cock. Vash's gaze never breaks from yours as he slowly sinks himself into your tight heat, the head of his cock splitting you open as he sheaths himself inside you, his mouth falling agape with a mewling whimper as he feels every inch of your sweet warmth.

Your breath hitches as he presses himself inside you slowly, your body taking him inch by sweet inch until he gently bottoms out, your nails digging slightly into his broad shoulders. You can feel him stretching you out on his thick cock, a mixture of the sweet sting and pleasure filling your entire body. You take in deep breaths to calm and relax yourself, your eyes fluttering up at your lover.

You're everything he's ever wanted, everything he's ever needed, everything his soul craves and begs for. He caresses your thigh and whispers between gasping breaths, a sweet smile on his face as your catch your breath, "You're okay, mayfly. Relax. Take your time. Tell me how you feel. I'm here with you, all the way." He coos, peppering your cheeks and neck with soft kisses as he whispers gentle words of praise and encouragement. His expression is one of pure love and adoration, seeing your body relax as you adjusts to his, your walls moulding to his cock, your breath slowly coming back to you.

"A-Ah... I need you to move, Vash. I think I'll explode if you don't move right now." You whine, hips bucking and writhing against his own, begging him to fuck you already.

His adoring smile never falters, chuckling breathily as you beg for him.

Fuck, he's missed feeling needed.

"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" He teases with a shit-eating grin that splits his perfect face. He places a tender kiss between your brows before gazing back down at you.

"Hold on tight now," he purrs against the shell of your ear, tightening his grip on your thigh, his prosthetic palm pressing against the mattress by your head. He's trying so hard to keep himself together, but you can feel his arm shaking from the sheer euphoria as he supports his weight.

Gently, he pistons his hips against yours, his cock gliding along your inner walls at a sweet and tender pace and giving you the chance to adjust to the feeling of him stretching you out. As fogged as his mind is right now in a haze of lust and need, he is still acutely aware of you, and it would break him more than anything if he hurt you.

Vash stares down at where you two connect so intimately, watching how your body engulfs his cock over and over and coats his shaft with your arousal.

"You feel so good, mayfly. Taking me so well, like your body remembers me," Vash praises you sweetly, his face falling to the crook of your neck.

"V-Vash..." you mewl, thighs gripping his waist tighter, cushioning his hips as he pumps you full of himself. "Feels so good. M-More, please. I need you more."

"Of course. I'll give you more," he whispers, his voice dripping with tender affection as his hands move to your thighs, lifting them up and hooking your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half again. You moan wantonly at how deeply he can reach in this position, the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

Vash increases the pace, his thrusts gradually growing more deliberate and quick, pumping into you so deliciously that he wrings out every sweet sound you can make from your throat. He rocks his hips, his muscles tightening and relaxing as he pushes himself all the way in and pulls back out again, letting himself feel every inch of your velvety walls. Every pump of his hips has him pulling himself out to the hilt, leaving just his hot tip inside, giving you no time to breathe before he pushes himself back inside again, fucking you deeper and harder than before. Every time he pulls out, he sees your lips part slightly as you wait for him to ram back inside. And he does, over and over, making both of you moan louder as the room fills with the sounds of skin slapping.

"I love you, I love you! P-Please, please don't leave me behind again. Stay. I need you!" You cry out in rapture, tightening your grip around him and pulling him so his patchwork chest is against yours, your breasts squeezing and bouncing against his pecs.

"I'm here, mayfly. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I can't- I'd die without you. I love you too much." He grunts against the side of your face, the sound of his labored breaths filling your ears.

He thrusts into you faster and harder now, the withered bed creaking and groaning beneath you both along with the sounds of your pleasured cries.

"Mmm~ Vash... Feels too good. Gonna come. Gonna make me come."

Your words break the last bit of restraint in his lovedrunk mind, grunting loudly against your ear.

"Fuck, say it again. Say it- Say it like you missed me. Like you thought of me every day. The way I thought about you."

"Vash!"

You can feel your body quivering and pulsing around him, and it only makes Vash moan louder, your pussy practically sucking him back in every time he pulls away. He moves a hand from your thigh to thumb at your swollen clit, desperate to feel you come undone around him.

"That's it. That's it! Mmm fuck~ I can feel it. Say it as you come all over me, baby. Please. Please."

Your orgasm hits you like a sandsteamer, your back arching harshly off the bed before you even have the chance to cover your mouth, crying out his name with a melodic and broken moan.

"Va- Vash!"

He's quivering, his grunts and breaths shaky as he feels your pussy clench around his aching cock like your body is trying to milk him for all he's worth.

"Ahh- S' too good... M' gonna c-come, mayfly. Gonna come with you."

Vash bites his bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds of pure agonizing rapture, only for your name to leave his lips like a beautiful song to the heavens as he spills himself deep inside your heat. His hips stutter as he fills you with his hot come until you feel like you're bursting, hips slowing and gently rocking into you as you both ride out your highs until they gradually come to a stop. He feels his muscles go limp, pressing his weight down on you more than he means to as he collapses against your smaller frame. He covers your temple and cheeks with weak, tired kisses, whispering sweet words of affection until you've both gathered your minds a bit more.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." He chants over and over again with every breath like a prayer, eyes closed, relishing the feeling of euphoria filling his body.

He stays inside you well after you've both come down for your climaxes, cockwarming you on his thick shaft like he can't bare the thought of ever being separated from you again. But when he feels his cock softening, he carefully pulls out of you with an almost pained groan, disappointed at the loss of your warmth but his body completely satisfied and drained regardless. When he sits back on his knees and sees his seed spilling from your dripping hole, he groans, cursing under his breath. The sight is enough to get him hard all over again.

_________________________

After a night full of round after round of hot and passionate lovemaking, your exhausted bodies lay beside each other. The sheets are wet and tangled, your bodies slick with a mix of your arousals, but you're both far too content and tired to care about the mess right now, enveloped in each other's embrace.

"Mmh... bed's comfy. I see why you like it here," You coo against his head, his hair tickling your nose.

"Having a bed to sleep in has definitely been nice. Beats sleeping out in the desert," He mumbles and pulls you in closer to himself, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble scratching at your skin.

"But this bed might as well be a bed of sand if I can't sleep in it with you, mayfly."

"Always such a smooth talker," you chuckle at him. Then, your smile turns to a look of reluctance as you gently raise your head. "But I should probably go, huh? Don't wanna explain to Granny and Lina what I was doing here in the morning."

"Well, you were doing me." Vash snickers back at you, eyebrows wiggling teasingly.

"You're hilarious," you scoff with a deadpan stare, but you can't help the little amused smirk forming on your lips, "I'm glad to see your sense of humor hasn't gone anywhere."

He chuckles against the hollow of your throat, his lips ghosting over your skin.

"I know, I know. It's just one of my many charms."

"You won't need to say anything to them. I'll do all the explaining for you." His grip tightens around your waist, any thoughts of leaving the bed vanishing from your mind. How could you leave after everything that's happened? After you've both finally found your ways back to each other?

"Besides, they might already know you're here. We weren't exactly... uh, quiet." He chuckles nervously, and you can feel his face heating up as he thinks about just how much noise the two of you were making. You feel your own face heat up too. Yeah, the morning's gonna be a bit awkward.

Vash grips you tighter, his warm body flush against yours, clinging to you.

"Stay, mayfly. I need you."

Your body settles back into the bed, cuddling yourself up against the man you love most, and the world feels a little brighter.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."