#i know the borders are fucked up but i didnt have an idea on how to fix it and got tired

[ruikasas]

[thelov3lybookworm]

Lucien who now lives full time in the Day Court knowing the truth (think white robes and cold crown and makeup omg) and who has been in love with IC reader since getting to know her while he was there.

She's now visiting on some Night Court business (research, negotiation, etc.), and he's decided to put on his full Lucien teasing charm to woo her.

Sunlight in a Bowl.

Summary: Did he just... no. Of course not.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: I didnt realise how much i loved this idea until i wrote it 😭 thank you soo much my darling anon for sending in this request, i had soo much fun writing it lol, it was like it took no effort, came to me soo easy 🥹

also, posting this an hour early for funsies 🤭

i promised no angst so theres no angst @milswrites

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The day court was beautiful.

That was all Y/n could think of as a sentry led her towards Helion's private receiving chambers, all other adjectives having flown out of her head the moment Azriel had dropped her on the border of Day court, from where she'd winnowed herself to the palace.

The white houses, the red and gold roofs, the sunlight shining from above and reflecting from pools of water and the Palace right in the center of it all, the colourful market in the town square...

It was safe to say Y/n was ready to move to Day court, already having forgotten that she was here on a mission from Rhysand.

She was ready, bags packed, no questions asked.

So busy was she gaping at the beautiful architecture of the palace, the artwork reigning her in like some trick of hypnotism, she didn't realise the sentry had come to a stop outside two large oak doors.

Unfortunately, that meant she smacked right into his back before she realised.

Her cheeks blazing, Y/n stumbled back as she glanced up at the male, who had an amused smile on his face.

"I merely stumbled. My dress is a little long."

He nodded. "Never said you did not stumble. I believe it must be hard to walk around in your too long knee length dress."

Blood rushed into Y/n's ears as she looked down at the dress that... only reached her knees, realising he was right.

Fuck.

She cleared her throat, standing at attention, avoiding his eyes.

From her peripherals, she could see him grinning as he knocked on the door, waiting until a voice called out to let them in.

The male opened the door, holding it open for Y/n. She hurried in, resisting the urge to just die as he closed the door behind her.

So much for making a good first impression.

Y/n shook her head, trying to dislodge the lump now forming in her throat at the upcoming conversation.

Being an introvert and shy was a hard job, one Y/n was very good at.

But being introverted and shy while being an emissary? Now that was the job of someone that Y/n would consider god.

And exactly why Y/n had been so against the idea of her becoming an emissary when Rhysand suggested it, knowing she would rather live a life alone in the middle of nowhere and probably become the next Weaver than become an emissary.

Alas, she was the only researcher Rhysand had at his disposal, so now she had been sent to read through as many libraries and books in day court as possible to aid in Feyre's second pregnancy.

It hadn't been confirmed yet whether the babe was winged, but Rhysand and the inner circle thought it best to start researching in advance just in case the babe did have wings and to prevent the second pregnancy ending up the same way the first did, and this time with no one to save them.

"Y/n! Always a pleasure to see you!" Y/n met the warm honey eyes that belonged to Helion, a smile spreading on her face unprompted.

"Helion." She greeted, walking forward and directly into his open and inviting arms, squeezing him back when he wrapped his arms around her.

"I hope the journey was not too hard?"

Y/n laughed, pulling away. "All I had to do was winnow, Helion, why would it be hard?"

Helion grinned, then turned to glance at something behind him.

With horror, Y/n realised that it was not something, it was someone.

Her panicked eyes shot to Helion, remembering that Rhys said Y/n wouldn't have to interact with anyone other than the day court high lord.

"Ah Y/n, meet my son, Lucien. Though I'm sure you've met before."

Y/n swallowed, then let her eyes wander to Lucien. Which, definitely not a good idea, considering Y/n was suddenly drooling and looking away like he had burned her eyes.

She had only looked at him for a moment, but that moment was enough for Y/n to have taken note of how ravishing he looked.

Ravishing?!? Get a grip Y/n.

Y/n attempted to calm her racing heartbeat by taking deep breaths, trying not to think of all the golden skin on display that was not covered by the white robe, the gold crown adorning the head of fiery red.

Trying especially hard not to think about the way his skin glowed with happiness and the beautiful, flirtatious smile adorning those plush, soft lips.

"We- we have met before."

"That's amazing! So if introductions are not needed, I'll take my leave."

Y/n knew her eyes were bulging out of her head at this point, but she did not really care as she gaped at Helion's retreating back. She continued to stare until he reached the doors, then turned to wink at her like he was in on a secret she was not.

Bastard.

Y/n, not knowing what to do, glanced at Lucien, who, in the perfect son-of-bastard way, sent her a cocky grin.

Y/n glared at him at that, pretending like the blush on her face was because of anger and not because she was shy.

"I don't know if Rhys informed you, but I will be helping you out today with the research."

Y/n's eyes widened, staring at him like he'd claimed to have met the Mother herself.

Which, Y/n would have been less surprised to hear, but that was the talk for another day.

"I- no one told me."

Lucien shrugged, that infuriating smile still on his face. "It came up last moment when my father had to leave to handle some important matters."

Y/n nodded sadly, mentally encouraging herself that she could do this.

With a sigh, she gestured at him. "Lead the way."

•○🌑○•

"Are you hungry yet?"

Y/n reigned in her sigh of exasperation.

For the past hour, Lucien had been hovering around Y/n, bothering her with stupid questions and trying to get her to go somewhere else. Where, Y/n could not for the life of her figure out.

She glanced up at him, finding his arms crossed over his chest, a careless grin on his face as he leaned against the desk she sat at.

She also noticed how he stood a little too close to just be acting like a caring host, but she ignored it, just like she ignored the bulging, mouth watering muscles in his arms.

"I am sorry Lucien, but my stomach does not consider me worthy of food at the moment. I will let you know once it decides I deserve to eat."

He laughed at that, his head thrown back, his chest vibrating with how genuine the sound was.

Y/n's eyes dropped to the strong column of his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he glanced back down to her, grinning. Y/n noticed the dimple that made an appearance in his cheeks, but she pretended she was still mad at his constant nagging and turned back to the thick bound tomes she had open in front of her.

Y/n got a moment of reprieve before he drew her attention again.

But this time he did not ask her if she was hungry or if she was thirsty.

No, he pushed off from the table, and Y/n watched him from the corner of her eyes as he walked to the back of her chair.

She was curious, of course she was, but also glad that he would let her do her studies.

Also sad that he was leaving, but no one needed to know that.

But suddenly, two arms were caging her in against the table, and Y/n startled at the sudden heat of being caged against the wood by someone who quite literally had the heat of autumn court fire in his blood and the warmth of day court sun in his blood.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n yelped, trying to keep quiet in the library.

His breath tickled the hair at the side of her neck as he leaned in.

"I am just wanting to inquire when your stomach will deem you worthy of eating."

"Oh my god." Y/n mumbled, her blood tinting her face red. "Stop it Lucien!"

"Not until you tell me you will go out to eat with me. Tell me, will giving you the sun in a bowl convince you?"

Y/n only kept getting redder in the face, and to try to cover it up, she slapped her hands over her face.

He tsked. "That sounded like it hurt."

Y/n paused for a moment, then mumbled out- "It did."

He laughed again, and something about having him so close to her, so free and vulnerable did things to Y/n. She spread her fingers, peeking out to find his eyes closed, his teeth glinting softly in the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows.

She stared at him, slowly letting her hands fall into her lap, not realising she was staring.

Or maybe not caring.

His laughter slowly died down, the sound still ringing softly in Y/n's ears until it faded away.

He met her eyes, happier than Y/n had ever seen, and gave her a soft smile.

"So?"

Y/n sighed, the sound so exaggerated she would have laughed any other time.

"Fine."

For good measure, Y/n rolled her eyes at him before she turned back to the dusty tomes sitting on the rich wood desk.

She could practically feel his grin as he dipped closer, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Y/n's eyes flew wide, turning to gape at him as he straightened.

"So, a bowl of sunlight. In the receiving room before sunset?"

Y/n choked out an okay.

The bastard had the audacity to wink at her as he turned and strutted away, his careless demeanour already enchanting Y/n's malfunctioning brain.

She watched his retreating back until she couldn't anymore, then straightened to stare at the words that now made no sense to Y/n because she was so busy trying not to think about the plans she now had for the evening.

Did he just...

Y/n blinked, glancing once to the archway he'd just disappeared into.

Did he just ask me out on a date?

Y/n shook her head.

No, it was just not possible.

Lucien? Asking Y/n out on date?

Y/n wanted to laugh at herself for even thinking that. Lucien would never...

Fuck.

Despite herself, Y/n began to smile, and hope.

What have I gotten myself into?

It was going to be hurting her brain to think so much about it, but she couldn't care less about it.

Still smiling, Y/n returned to her work, now trying to stop focusing on him and start doing the thing she was actually here for.

It's going to be a long day.

•○🌑○•

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[ryansosilly]

I was there too, Wasn't I?

quick summary of the fic for those have the 'i ain't reading allat' mindset

it isn't specifically an 'x reader' in a romantic sense and nor is it gendered. Everyone can read and imagine themselves as it. It's more of a switch in dynamics if instead of it being Soap and Ghost against the world, it was Soap, Ghost and [REDACTED] against the world :]

This is basically if you played 'Shoko' to Ghost and Soaps 'Gojo and Geto'. If you don't know who they are, you'll enjoy this fic. If you do know who they are? You'll not enjoy it any more, you will just know exactly how it ends

I do my best to never put any borders or rules for [REDACTED] on what they are and they aren't. But for this specific one, you are going to be a medic at least PART TIME! You can imagine yourself as everything and anything else. Sniper, a fucking barbarian or just go full on medic. Anything.

Tw: Typical war stuff you'd expect. Death, blood blah blah

Soap, Ghost and You.

Long time ago, you met Ghost first. Way before Soap was in the picture.

But you didn't meet him in no normal circumstances that people usually met. You met him at his very lowest, beaten and barely alive. You were a part [REDACTED] at the time, and by the string of fate wrapping around both of your necks, you got your hands to Ghost, or during that time... Simon's ruined body. He was alive..barely. After he had managed to dig himself out of that horrible horrible grave with only Vernon's jawbone, he 'ran' into you. Or perhaps you ran into him?

Days blurred by and before you even knew it, four months of healing had passed by. Simon became somewhat attached to you, despite never even realising it.

But at the back of your head you always..had some..ideas..some inklings that maybe.. he didnt quite feel the same. He didn't quite understand how deep your appreciation and care for him went. Though, you made it no big deal. He was recovering. Hell? He even looked too young to have such things figured out already despite being 'an adult'.

Your understanding of him carried even once he got recruited into the task force. Of course, taking you with him as his trusty right hand.

Wherever you go, he goes with. Wherever he goes, you and ...and? Soap, of course!

Sooner than later, the duo became a trio. Or did it stay a duo

You, Soap and Ghost were inseparable. You healed together. You saw the live re-enter Simon's eyes. You saw Simon again for the first time ever since his death the accidents.

Soap even came into your life harder than anyone else before, becoming YOUR right-hand man. He followed you, you followed Ghost, Ghost followed Soap. All of your backs were safe and kept protected through each other. Some called it brotherhood, others made gay jokes. Third types of people tried to split you up while others even counted you as an entity all together. 'the 3 of them', what they called you. The two strongest and their life saver.

But just as time was a blur before, it became a blur again. The happiness couldn't last forever when Soap was pronounced K.I.A.

By Ghosts own request, you were tasked with retrieving his body from the battlefield, cremating him.. writing a report with Laswell and a letter to Soaps parents.

It was surprising that Ghost let you do all of that for Soap. You would've assumed that he would've ran straight to the opportunities but Ghost was tired. Too tired to go out and do it alone. Too tired to find the words. Too tired.

So you understood. You pulled him back up on his feet once, you'll do it again.

"How do you think he would've wanted to go? A grave?"

You spoke quietly, putting on your gloves as you looked down at the dead body of John McTavish, a dear friend, brother and more and an outstanding soldier. His body was cold. So cold that most of his insides were already frozen from the cold air he spent his 'time' laying in. Parts of him missing due to animals finding him before the Task Force did.

"I don't know."

Ghost replied, leaning his head back on the wall in despair. His voice was low, still audible and clear yet so full of unidentifiable emotion. He was sat down at one of the medical carriers. The same one that brought John in here. The morgue felt colder than the metal. Mourning wasn't going to warm him up but neither was John's jacket he kept. Nothing was.

Your gloved hands on the cold body were the only warmth in the room. The only warmth Ghost had left in his life. It was just an unfortunate timing that he had his back towards you, refusing to look at the way John's body was ravaged by the wild animals.

Why were you even here, Simon?

The settlement of cremation came after long talk with the rest of the team. Unfortunately, none of the letters sent to John's supposed family and place of residence were returned so the choice the Task Force made was the final one.

A final choice.

You were there during the entire process of it. And so was Simon. His stomach could hardly handle it so he made Gaz and Price switch with him from time. He described it as 'He didn't want to leave him alone'.

It was obvious to everyone that his mental health was heavily affected, a strong blown dealt to his psyche that everyone excepted you to heal.

You stood there, Simon stood there with you.

You stood there, Gaz stood there with you.

You stood there.. Price stood there with you.

And Simon stood at the front alone once it was time to retrieve the ashes.

You trusted Simon with picking an Urn, picking the place where you'll pour the ashes in between the still difficult deployments they had to finish before a proper 'burial' can happen. You stood by Ghosts side without going anywhere. You saw how bad it got, and was there to comfort him, hug him and bandage his wounds he got from being careless. There to take the alcohol bottle away, put the cigarettes fire out and remind him to wash his sheets, shower, sleep and eat. There to fight off the asks of him to be taken to a ward for his safety. You did everything to keep him where he felt safe, where you knew he was safe.

But no matter how much you hold someone, they'll hold someone else.

An urn in Simon's arms, a letter meant to be burnt away with all of Ghosts unsaid words to Soap.. and a lighter. It was a custom made lighter you've not seen before. It said G & S. It was cute! Your initial was on the other side of it.

The burial went as expected. Everything went by 'smoothly'. Ghost kept his composure and 'life went on'. It went on and on excruciatingly slow.

All that time passing by, lead to one moment you'll always remember whether you like it or not.

"Place feels so dead without Soap."

Ah? Was Ghost helping a new recruit? Talking to them as he stood by a window with you on his left side, holding a pack of cigarettes opened for him.

"He is my best friend. My..only friend."

Ghost shared quietly, staring out the window as he held a cigarette by his mouth. He started wearing the mask even longer to an unhealthy amount now, only taking it off to sleep, smoke or shower.

"oh shut it. I was there too, wasn't I, Simon?"

You tried to joke in this 'unjokeable', dull situation. Reminding him that.. you were there. You just couldn't do anything to save him on the battlefield. Too far, too late.

The recruit was confused more than anything. He had heard so many praises about the sergeant from everyone. But he never knew about you being in the picture?

"[Redacted], were you also friends with the Sergeant?"

As the recruit questioned you, Ghost took his cigarette and left, going to a different window. Too much social interaction, you'd assume. Maybe just the mention of Soap was still uncomfortable. It's been years.

Years..was it really years?

How could just a couple years fill up a morgue so fast? Ghosts suppressed rage harmed civilians, his teammates and the enemies. You fell responsible for it by choice. Patching up a hurt kid that fell in the crossfire, bandaging up Gaz after a fight with Ghost, keeping the bodies of enemies for 'later use' as Ghost said.

Some would say he got better, that he got over it. But it was just never the same. Your friendship almost became entirely professional. He was in and out as soon as he got what he wanted from you. Meds, cigarettes, a new lighter, more meds, bandages, information on bodies. The warm friendship became less than a conversation per day.

Of course, one thing remained the same. When Simon was going through an especially tough time, he made his way to your doorstep. And you listened, comforted him and helped him.

You were adults now. There were no excuses like there were back then. You tried to talk to him about it, which he ended up..actually taking quite seriously. You started hanging out a bit more. Going out for coffee sometimes, chatting more often even if you had to now refer to him as 'Lieutenant' Ghost. Simon in private. He even started to walk with you in silence sometimes.

Things got 'better' as the casualties got more and more. Until the very last casualty that Ghost even got into your office.

The morgue was once again especially cold, one less set of lungs breathing to warm up the air around, less voice to speak and bother as you put on your gloves to cut off the balaclava from the British man's face.

the black, and now red, piece of clothing barely held together what was supposed to be his head. A gruesome view. Your cold hands went around through his whole body to check if there was any chance it didn't happen like that. That maybe there was a traitor, a mole, a stupid fucking rat who managed to get a shotgun to the Lieutenants throat. But there was nothing but bloody slashes on the limbs and tightened rope patterns on the man's neck. The papers you needed to write for that were as clear as day.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley status has been changed to 'deceased by method of Suicide'.

Report filed by.. [text unreadable]

[gai-is-love-kakagai-is-life]

Alright, so imma just spill the beans on the ANBU Gai plot because i cannot contain how horrified I am at the monster I created. I made this blog to talk about it because I know I have difficulties actually writing... So I WILL talk about it!

(EDIT: I just... caved and made this post because I got so excited about my breakthrough. I dont know whether or not i should delete it or drop the whole thing but, it was exciting)

Literally, it started with wanting more angsty Gai, then ANBU Gai and Kakashi being the one to reach put to Gai and they work things out. So... how... and why... did it turn from Gai joining ANBU for Kakashi to getting involved in getting caught between Hiruzen and Danzo's nonsense which involes DESTABILIZING A WHOLE ASS COUNTRY??

I have mentioned the Land of Woods before and... yeah I was cooking it's destabilization and Gai's role in it because I placed so much importance on giving Gai an external conflict outside of his struggles in ANBU and Kakashi. I just HAD to!

Over the course of weeks I researched Naruto's history, the characters, the wars, the countries, the divisions, the magic system and even bought the light novels to understand everyone and everything better... well, I was very selective about who but that's neither here or there... Bottom line is I did the most in trying to create a scenario that would make sense for ANBU Gai that would affect and challenge him. Knowing that a lot of ANBU are either in the village spying on people, protecting the Hokage or infiltrating other countries for assassinations I was like, "That's an idea! Maybe he'll patrol around the village borders with his team and go capture/assassinate targets when not in the village!" It was at this point I practically forgot about Kakashi and Gai's inner struggles to focus on what the fuck kind of missions he would do and what conflict would he be involved in.

Losts of research later I realize that I have a practically blank slate for Gai to play in that he has ties to... The Land of Woods. The victims of the infamous scene where Gai sees the darkness in Kakashi that he lacked himself. It was perfect. It had questions that needed to be answered, like what is it's role in Naruto? Why were they beefing with the Land of Fire/Konoha? What happened to them and why? The answers are: Not much, no idea, and it's essentially lawless land now. There is no leadership and apparently it was a haven for criminals (possibly including Obito and Sasuke at some point). Something happened to it between the period of Kakashi and Itachi slaughtering the Prañja Group (the victims), and Shippuden times and that blank space was mine to color in.

What I did was come up with a reason why it collapsed into the state it did by the time of Shippuden and how Gai was involved. It took a week or so of trying to figure out how destabilizing another country even works (doesnt mean i researched hard. I looked up the methods and imagined from there), but I had come up with Gai and his team assassinating people. But why? And would he stand for it? I wasnt trying to break Gai, just... test how bendy he'll let his morals get in ANBU--

(I posted this early because my phone fell on my face and posted it... )

I wasnt trying to break Gai and I know that as loyal as he is to Konoha and moreso to the people he loves, he wouldn't do something so... devastating. So then I got ROOT involved and now Gai's team is stumbling upon ROOT doing the dastardly deeds of dismantling a dying government. It took until last night for the how to solidify.

... Imma just post pictures of this next part. It came in the middle of me trying to go back and flesh out the Kakagai so I didnt lose it again, but the Land of Woods conflict still got me by the throat.

If you read this far... thank you. If you hate this? Completely understandable. I might delete this post but i had to get this out. I hope that it was at least interesting

[weirdcat1213]

ok i have an oreo on one hand and a shark plushie on the other, lets do this

trimax volume 8 (pls dont hurt me)

thoughts

BUT BEFORE THAT, ACTUAL QUESTION: how are the 1st timers holding up? yall doing good?

ok now long post is here

chap 1:

-oh that title page its SO FUCKING GOOD

-MY BOI HES HERE

-oh hes not....doing it by choice.....oh

-legato looking like a pizza pocket is the comedy relief we all need tbh

-GET HIS ASS VASH GET HIS ASSSSS

-oh my geesus i heard that, i felt that shit

-"they abuse us" and here you are knives...doing the same shit

-OH THANK GOD YOURE HERE

-could you look less happy while doing this shit knives? pls?

-something something divine punishment from the skies, something something yeah ofc not anyone can do that shit

-oh hey why is he with them i actually forgot

-aw :3 i wonder who taught him to not shoot to kill :3

-also pls leave him alone hes not just a killer pls youre hurting my feelings-

-:c

-STOP VASH DONT LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT HOLY SHIT

-rem mention :c

-knives can you stop being right for a second, thanks

-the arm...wow

-OH YES ITS THIS MOMENT YES

-i dont remember what the other translation said but "that was the day we both lost our minds"....yeah im gonna sit with this one for a bit and cry cuz its true, they did

-oh yeah i didnt get this the 1st time lets try again :D

-ohhhhh....oh shit

-i hate siding with knives on this chapter but i cant help it. i also love the idea of being even

-also he looks so fucking cool while being evil, cool points for you knives

-"invasion" and it ends with him looking at the stars/nightsky? brilliant

chap 2:

-STOP BEING RIGHT KNIVES

-ALSO STOP DISTRACTING ME FROM WOLFWOOD TIME

-ah yes, the classic, sweetest, full of angst potential "i will remind of you of your home and how you dont belong there anymore" card, good to see you here

-oh god i forgot about this part, geesus

-ah crap i love this tho, gives you time to actually take in everything that knives is causing. its so easy to gloss over it with some quick panels but to actually take the time...i love it

-ok ik they get absorbed by knives but the idea of them flying away and being free (for a bit) is so pretty, im happy for them

-...geesus christ

-YES MY GIRLSSSSSSSSS :D

-it makes you wonder what they did to stay alive actually, like you never think of that stuff ig

chap 3:

-wait they didnt know???? hold up....yeah ig that makes sense but...hmmm

-YEAH YOU TELL THEM LUIDA >:D

-:c

-ALSO interesting how the borders didnt go black to represent a flashback, so maybe it wants to show how present is that memory in luida's mind. wow

-"maybe hes been waiting for us to come and help him" aaaand thats enough to make me tear up, im the weakest bitch on the planet let me tell you

-YES SEE LUIDA GETS IT

-GET WRECKED BY THE EXISTENCE OF GOOD PEOPLE ASSHOLE

-OH MAN HES BREAKING

-COOL ASS PANEL ALSO

-oh shit so he hit some plants oh shit oh damn

-AH SHIT

-omg she looks so epic while killing people <3

-THERE HE IS HERE WE GO YES GO GET YOUR HUSBAND

-oh look its the man in the tin can lmao

chap 4:

-KILL HIM WOLFWOOD KILL HIM

-HALF A YEAR???? damn i always forget, this is still going at the speed of light tho

-aw no :c my baby :c

-then again i like that you can see that even if it was just half a year (literally nothing for vash) it still caused him pain and suffering, 10/10

-GEESUS BRO HE JUST GOT FREE

-oh shit oh shit no

-im not really sure how he escaped legato but im glad :D also vash is longgggg i lvoe it :3

-well thats just depressing livio

-pls leave livio

-KILL HIM KILL HIMMMM

-ok but vash being basically a ragdoll rn while wolfwood is fighting and bleeding breaks my heart let me tell you

-wolfwood shut the hell up ok? shut up, i dont wanna hear it

-oh im going insane :) i hate wolfwood so much rn (his crime was to say sad things)

-OH IT WAS HERE I ACTUALLY FORGOT THIS WAS THE MOMENT AWWW HOLY SHIT MY BOY

-YES SAVE YOUR HUSBAND

-"youre not lost wolfwood" wolfwood saying all that shit outloud and IK FOR A FACT vash's heart almost broke ik it i feel it

-baby dont apologize :c

-............................................................ :c

-ah fuck hes here

-WAIT HOLY SHIT THAT LIKE SHADOW OF LIGHT???? AMAZING???

-oh oh im sick to my little stomach i fear oh geesus my boy, my baby, im so happy that wolfwood is all you need but also im so sad you dont have anything else, do i make sense?

-threatening you brother and begging him to not sacrifice himself in the same breath...knives the plant that you are

-woooooooooooooooooooooooooow i love that shit, hes so little...

-PLS GOD LET THIS BE IN STAMPEDE PLS PLS I WANT A SCENE WITH BOTH OF THEM IN THE SKY SO BAD PLSSSS

-im not entirely sure what is happening but damn thats nasty

-NO DONT FUCKING SAY THAT

chap 5:

-LMAO HIS FACE XD

-welp...this is terrible

-nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo :c

-oh righttttt, i forgot about that plan, so thats why people called him chapel

-oh that panel with livio thats fucking brutal geesus nightow. like the old livio seems so pure and far away while the current livio is so violent and present

-my god he looks like shit

-MARLONNNNNNNNNNNNN :D

-oh meryl my girl :'3 omg shes the best

-im so depressed rn :D

-idc if hes rotting, sadly the man looks majestic af

-ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh oh ok

-NO DONT LEAVE PLS DONT FUCKING LEAVE PLS NO STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY

OH SHIT THIS IS FREE BIRD OH SHIT OH NO HELP HELPPPPPPPPPPPP

free bird time ig:

-freeeee biiiiird yeaah tururururururu

-wdym congratulations cmon man

-oh honey......

-awww :c

-oh wow now im DEPRESSED :D

-ugh that fucking face

-hes so cool sometimes >:D

-aw you made her cry :c

-"tired of filling a space in other peoples lives"....hmmmm

-aw :c

I hate whats coming i fucking swear.

[a-non-ymouswriter]

Naturally, I am Very Interested in hearing literally anything about Remix. But aside from that, the titles of "God's Most Faithful Hater" and "My Son is the Final Boss" are very intriguing!

The later because I read that Webtoon (among many others); the former because I love Tommy angst /and/ religious themes in this fandom can be really fun. There's no telling what direction any given person will go for DSMP gods and thus no telling what new (to me) ideas they might have that I could fall completely in love with.

...And after looking up what CYMK is, I think I'm legally obligated to be curious about "Wandering The Border". Dimension hopping my beloved.

I hope that's not too many? I have so much fun with your stories, it's hard to cut it down from "all of them, please!"

i very much understand, there's a reason why i listed only those when i have a few more dusting away on my shelf lmao. BUT LET'S GET INTO THESE THREE!!

gonna cut this bc it's long

God's Most Faithful Hater - A DSMP Fantasy AU Summary -> Tommy Innit is the most devout, religious, faithful follower Ranboo has ever met. It's hard to believe at first, but everyday without fail, Tommy would pray to XD, hold the silver and green x-cross necklace (the symbol of his religion and his god's crest) whenever he got angry or anxious, and would reprimand Tubbo if he ever jokingly swore by XD or Prime's name.

Ranboo thinks it's nice that Tommy was so faithful to his god, it wasn't for him personally but hey, everyone had something they put their faith into.

Only he finds out that his initial thoughts to be very much, untrue. Well, Tommy is faithful. But he has no love for XD and his religion, no.

He has nothing but contempt and hatred for the malicious God that sunk its divinity into his very soul.

Details and Thoughts -> basically xd cursed tommy to be 'faithful' and be his unwilling follower.

i got this inspiration from Tanya the Evil, both the anime and manga. for those who don't know, it's about a man reincarnated as a little girl in fantasy imperial germany during world war 1 because he was agnostic and 'god' decides that the man needs to be faithful and believe in god. it's a cool anime, i suggest you pick it up.

but i only took 'forced to be religious' from the anime and applied it AND angst to tommy in this au. the more original side of it is that tommy is unwillingly immortal and constantly haunted and 'put to the test' by xd.

those tests are very dangerous, and the only way to get out of them? pray to xd, praise xd and such to save him, the unworthy and unwilling.

of course sometimes tommy can pass those 'tests' or other situations without praying to xd, but as time passes, tommy just ends up praying to xd. mostly after his past adopted family nearly died because he didnt pray to xd. that past family? sbi ofc but thats for later down the line.

the shot would be focused in ranboo's pov in the first part. how he and the others are friends with tommy and talking about how surprisingly religious tommy was. unknowing that tommy kept praying every day for their sake, and to stave off xd's malicious actions.

make no mistake, tho tommy prays and praises xd outwardly, he still fucking hates the damn god. and his internal prayers always, always has him damning xd. which both amuses and annoys said god, but somehow tommy's prayers are at least genuine and stuff, enough that he has to keep his word and not fuck shit up for tommy.

i'd say more but, we need to get to the others lmao.

My Son is the Final Boss - DSMP AU Wilbur-centric Summary-> None Yet

Details and Thoughts -> so this one is very unfinished and was back when techno was alive actually. around then i was reading a webtoon called My Daughter's the Final Boss or something- basically it was about a dad whose daughter, as told by title, became the final boss of a world-ending apocalypse.

it starts w the dad having to confront the daughter that he had abandoned in the past, who grew up terribly and abused and turned into an apocalyptic event boss. The Final Boss. and in that confrontation he...

turns his back on his allies and tries to protect his daughter from them. dying as a result.

but of course, the webtoon continues and the dad is time traveled back to BEFORE he sent his daughter away (he had issues and shit and was an asshole really) so he decides that he was gonna prevent every bad thing that happened to him, his daughter, prevent the death of his daughter's mother, etc etc

so yeah basically that, but with wilbur and fundy. i think i was reading a lot of fundy angst and sbi angst when i thought of it while reading.

i might revisit this shot again, but morph it bc im trying to catch up with QSMP and i love tallulah. and recently read a fic of fundy and tallulah being twins and i just love that. wilbur gets to be angsty over TWO children lol but no promises it's only an idea that hasn't even flourished

Wandering the Border - CMYK AU Dimension Hopping Summary -> Yeah this one doesn't have a summary either sorry

Details and Thoughts -> it says so on the tin; dimension hopping cmyk! EXCEPT

all four of them are dimension hopping separately and are constantly meeting each other... in the wrong order. in different spanning dimensions, and each of them hop dimensions in differing ways.

for example:

T̸̢̧̞̯̠̖̱͖̙͚͎̈́͒̅͑̇̋͐̃͒h̷͙̻̖̞̾̇̂̎̊̀̈̌̏͝ě̶͖̖͂̔͗̿̌̒͗̔̚s̷̛̫͙̤̯̬͕̺͂̐̊̓̐͒̂̕͠e̶̻̓̍̀͋͘û̶̲̾̊͒s̸͓̉͊̇̃̆͛̀͘͝͝ aka Tommy Innit- Chaos Demon currently cursed with dimension hopping because he pranked his dimension's Chaos Demoness Goddess Drista. He cannot stay in one dimension long, pain will overtake his body if he stays for more than a week, sometimes more than a few days or even hours. It's randomized whether or not he can stay or withstand the pain of staying. He is the 'youngest' and 'latest' of the friend group.

Experiment T-U88-Oasis aka Tubbo - A test tube experiment genius, actually the youngest (he's only been alive for 5 years, 3 of them dimension hopping) but technically the oldest in terms of dimension hopping? He always seems to be the one ahead of the curve, meeting others and referencing meet ups that haven't happened yet for the others. Rare instances of other others meeting a younger him that is so unlike the chaotic, hyper Tubbo that they know of. He stole an unfinished experimental device that lets him dimension hop, he keeps fiddling with it, which makes him hop dimensions- or well, it sometimes short circuits on its own and he's gone.

Lethe aka Ranboo - Initially from a superhero universe, Ranboo's powers were mostly about teleportation. Short range, sometimes long range if he could focus and had the stamina for it. He and his superhero mentor ended up busting a villain lair who was messing with powers. Something happened, Ranboo's powers got MAJORLY messed up and he ended up hopping dimensions and losing his memories. He didn't even know his name was Ranboo or his actual superhero name- Tubbo named him Lethe the first time they met, even gave him his trademarked memory journal. Ranboo's powers are unstable, each use has him forgetting all over again, but slowly, over time he doesn't forget. Slowly though.

Purpled - He's a regular teen and mercenary. He does odd jobs, REALLY odd jobs and somehow he's in every dimension all three of them have been to? Second 'eldest' to the group, he's been at this almost as long as Tubbo has. They have no idea how he's dimension hopping and Purpled refuses to answer it straight, not even Tubbo knows how he's going at it and technically he's the oldest! Purpled's the one with the most mystery, he's 'normal'. Fully human with no powers whatsoever, just pure martial skill, however from his travels that he somehow goes on, he has the most stuff. Weapons, items, etc.

so yeah, dimension hopping cmyk :) again i could go on but this has gone long enough.

maybe ask me again if you'd like to know more. or more about the other shots that are dusting away on my shelves. it was really fun talking about this stuff :DD

[scaredgirlsilly]

I'm aroace and coming up on my 1 year anniversary of engagement to my lovely fiance who is not aro or ace and I do not use the term qpp. I have the type of relationship that tends to cause a lot of arguments so when irl people or strangers ask I just say I'm straight. (There's also an added layer of confusion from some people since I'm an ace guy and that seems to be a hot button topic rn)

I tend not to share this because people who know that I'm aroace think that I was previously going through a phase when I say I love my partner. I do love my partner but I'm still aroace and it looks different and this is the first time I've ever felt so secure with another person and what we were able to create is beautiful because I stopped listening to people tell me what a relationship is or should be. And we work amazingly together.

-a fellow aro mutual still too nervous to talk about being aroace with my actual unsername (but wanted to show solidarity)

omg hiiiiiiii!!!! ::3

ok first off CONGRATS ON ALMOST A YEAR OH EM GEE!!!!!!!! thats awesome im glad you found someone you can be yourself with ^u^

and uh. the rest of this is gonna be gibberish sorry jfkshdksj i was literally walking around my kitchen last night when i first got this ask trying to figure out how to word what i want to say for like an hour or 2 😭😭

but like. i think alot of people dont understand just how *open* the terms aro and ace can really be. like. idk at least to me its kinda like nonbinary. like nonbinary is anything that doest strictyly fit into the gender binary. and thats. uh. A Fuck Ton Of Things jfkshdjsj. like im aro but i might honestly feel romantic attraction. but for me its my strong dislike of the idea of being in a relationship, along with like. almost being disillusioned with the very concept of romantic attraction. (and being sorta kinda poly??)

this is the part that is gonna be incomprehensible jfksjsks. but the way i think about it is almost like. idk a diagnosis jfkshdks (NOT to be the weirdos that are like "romance is an illness" i just want to describe the fact that the borders and definitions of these attractions are socially constructed)

like romantic attraction has a bunch of "symptoms" (again value neutral i canmot stress enough that im not like anti people who like romance hfkshdjsj) like yk liking someone a bunch or butterflies in their stomach or like. yk whatever doesnt matter you get what i mean. the different thoughts and feelings and experiences that typically come up when someone is romantically attracted to someone. what im saying is i dont think there is *actually* a single Romantic Feeling people get, i think a lot of people just have a very similar experience, and so it sort of becomes a seperate thing yk. there isnt actually a Romantic Emotion but its a combo of a bunch of stuff that alot of people experience close enough to each others experiences that it is helpful for it to be named something.

but like. then people assume the Thing is actually real. or not that it isnt real but like. that the Thing came first and is law. when really its just a bunch of components that commonly make up the thing. and so when you share alot of those components of the Thing (saying i love you or being in a relationship that isnt a qpr with an allo person), people will say that you feel the Thing. but *you* know that you dont.

i dont really know where im going with this other than like. i wish people didnt see aro and ace people (specifically aro people jfksjsjs) as like. either you feel the Thing or you Dont. like 1. the Thing (romantic attraction) is something allo people cant even define comprehensibly and 2. the human experience is so varied that like. every single person is different and its v frustrating when people shit on others for not fitting into their idea of what that type of person is (shitting on aro people for not being what they think aro people are).

god this is nonsense im sorry but hopefully you understand what i mean. tl;dr everyone is different and everyones experiences of queer labels are different, id argue *especially* aro and ace people, and if you shit on aro and ace people for acting or feeling in a way you didnt expect or like, im killing you with a chainsaw

hopefully you can find other people who are not weird about your aroace-ness and if you ever need to talk about it id be down ^u^

[devinescribe]

Betrayed

Ch. 22 of 100 Promises

Previous Ch | Next Ch

You ran into Chishiya on your way down.

"Nice punch," he mentioned, high fiving you. You smiled. He had really changed a lot since you first met him.

"Go help Ann and Kuina, they are taking a good approach to this. I... have something to do," he instructed, holding a water gun in his hand. "What? Gonna put the fire out with that?"

"More like start one..."

You stared for a couple of seconds, and nodded. "Alright... stay safe."

-----------

"Suguru! Come on you promised!" You whined, dragging him over to the swings. He tried pulling away from your grip. "No-no, i am not getting on that death trap."

You two were at a carnival, and the swings happened to be your favorite ride. His least favorite.

You thought for a second and smirked. "I'll let you kiss me at the top of the farris wheel~!"

His face turned bright red as he stammered and hid behind his hands. "(Y-y/N) you c-can't say that," he mumbled. "What you don't want to kiss me? You seemed eager to do so la-"

"Ok ok ok fine!"

You smiled, and pet the top of his head.

----------

You ran, heading to the part underneath the beach. It would be easier to travel this way.

You ran around, finally finding Ann.

"Ann!" You yelled, getting her attention.

She turned, quickly taking the defensive. "She's on our side, it's ok," Kuina said. You nodded.

"What do you need from me?"

___________

Numb

That's all you felt. You weren't happy. You weren't sad. You were nothing.

Chishiya dragged you two along with him, eventually coming up on a screen room.

"We meet again," he said with a smirk. "You?"

"(Y/N), you're ok!" Usagi exclaimed, hugging you.

Ok?

Physically, you guessed you were fine. Minor burns along your arms and legs.

Alive? Physically your body was alive. The blood ran hot through your veins, your heart beat to a foreign beat you didn’t know.

Ok?

Mentally no, you just wanted to sit in a hole and cry for hours. You wanted to be left alone, you wanted to be held, actually you didnt know what you wanted.

You wanted to hate him.

And you did.

But a small piece of you faught.

The screaming teenager inside your head.

"He's dead! He's dead and its all your fault! We said we'd protect him! You hurt him you hurt him you liar! You're a liar!"

Oh how she cried, tearing up the walls of your brain. But you wished for nothing more than to forget.

Alive? You mind was bordering death.

"Yeah. I guess I am," you responded with a small laugh.

Light filled up the room as all the screens turned on. On them was Mira.

"I told you hot bitches that don't talk can't be trusted," you said to Kuina. She scoffed, and handed you a piece of candy in her pocket. "Ah thank you very much."

"Next stage?"

Well, this would be harder than you thought.

_______

"I don't care just... take me somewhere," he muttered, as you smiled widely.

"Anywhere?"

"Yeah yeah, anywhere let's go before I change my mind."

You two walked throughout the city as you dragged him along. You knew exactly where you wanted to take him. You walked in the shop doors, greeting the people working there.

"Ah, she's back! Oh... hun it seems you brought a stray dog with you," one of them giggled. "Stray- oh! This is Niragi, my best friend. Y'know the one I'm always talking about?" You introduced, shoving him forward. "Oh. Alright then what can I do for you today?"

"What i mentioned last time. But for both," you said, using the cryptic language for him to not back out.

"Ohhh... he scared of needles?"

"Uh... yo, 'Ragi, you scared of needles?"

"No, what kind of a dumbass wuestion is that?"

"Ok, got it."

She dragged you both over to some chairs, where Niragi decided to finally look up and see where you were.

"(N/N), why are we here?"

"You said anywhere!"

"Oh my gods..."

"Hey, if you back out of this I'll cry."

And about 30 minutes later, you were both out of there with a slight sting in your mouth.

"This fucking hurts," he whined. "Good. Remember what she said. No, kissing is not a good idea, no eating your hook up out is not a good idea, and on top of that not cleaning it until it heals is also... not a good idea."

"Yeah yeah whatever..."

_________

Tears welled up in your eyes. Why did you choose to remember the memories now?

The group of you all walked in the city, the giant blimps floating around.

"Yeesh... crazy bitch," you mumbled, wiping the tears away. "Yeah..."

Suddenly people started running towards you guys, frantically screaming.

"What's going on?!"

"King of spades! Run!"

You watched people duck behind cars and gets shot. While everyone else was running, you and Chishiya observed, occasionally dodging some.

"Well fuck me," you muttered. Then the bullets came spraying toward you making you yelp, and run. You zig zagged your way to a car, making it harder to catch you.

You hid and saw Chishiya jogging with his hands in his pockets.

"For fucks sake," you muttered, running back to him. You grabbed him arm and dragged him. "Fucking run dumbass. Bitch ass motherfucker, you aren't a goddamn cat, you don't have nine lives you're just as mortal as the rest of us," you lectured while dragging him and running behind a car.

You heard him huff next to you. "Have I ever mentioned... how much I hate spades?" He said with a small laugh. You smiled. "I don't think so. But I do- jesus fucking christ," you started, getting scared by Kuina getting behind the car with you guys.

Chishiya pulled sometjing out of his pocket handing it to her. "A... bomb?"

"For if you're ever in a pinch," he responded, as if it was totally normal to give your friends bombs.

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

"Shit. That's not good, go!"

Chishiya grabbed your hand, pushing you away. You heard Kuina scream for you guys as you ducked behind a car, hearing an explosion.

"Oh my god. Whats the plan now?" You asked. You were really tired of the world punishing you like this. "We are going to be very careful, and leave. The Jack of Hearts isn't difficult, and hearts are your specialty," he said, pointing at the ballon. "Yeah... I guess. It's also the farthest. Since the King of Spades went that way following after them, i think we are in the clear. His ballon follows after him so lets go," you agreed.

You two began your trek through thd abandoned city and tried not stepping on corpses.

"This is really erie. I know that I was happy to be here at first, but now? God I wish I was dead," you mumbled. Chishiya grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the edge of the road. You scoffed, "What am I going to do? Get run over by the still cars?"

He laughed. "Yeah. You're kind of a klutz. I wouldn't put it past you," he said with a smile. You liked spending time with him.

"How are you doing?"

"What?"

"I asked, how are you doing?"

Silence.

"It's ok to miss him you know... You don't go from loving and trusting someone for years of you life to hating them overnight. I know you think you have to, but you don't. You're allowed to mourn the loss of your best friend. You're allowed to be sad and cry."

Tears welled up in your eyes.

"It's not ok. He's a horrible person. He tried to do horrible things. And I'm happy he's d-... I'm happy hes dead," you said, hearing your voice crack. His arms wrapped around you, shocking you. "It wasn't your fault. It's ok," he whispered. You broke down in his arms.

You hated that you felt bad for him. You hated you missed him.

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

"Chishiya, forget Niragi, look at those two," you whispered, subtlety pointing at two of the guys in the game. "You know one of them is a murderer right?"

"I am too at this point, so fuck it."

He sighed, nodding.

You looked up at the screen with everyone's name and picture.

Banda Sunato

Matsushita Enji

"Hm... I know who the first one is. The second one sounds really really familiar," you mumbled.

The game had started, and you watched everyone go to groups.

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

It was the second round and you heard someone call out to you.

"(L/N)?"

You turned around, expecting Chishiya.

It was Matsushita.

"I'm sure you don't remember me-"

Then it hit you who this was.

"Nononono, i remember, you were in my psych classes! We graduated together!" You exclaimed.

"So, you do remember."

This would be fun.

[e17omm]

Long rant post about Natlan. It gets kinda negative. I dont think that Hoyo does a good job writing long, open world adventure stories.

WOOOOW so we CAN use mutliple elements at the same time!

BOY DID THEY FORGET ABOUT THAT FOR THREE YEARS

2. The regions have gotten so busy... There's stuff everywhere and it feels less like a region and more like a place to do stuff. You know, like a video game.

I miss Mondstadt...

3. This sure is a chill and relaxing vibe for a country at constant war with the Abyss.

4. .... look the whole tournament thing sounds great but I just do not care about it. At all. I just met these people, I just got to Natlan, I have no idea what the war against the Abyss is like, I have no reason to care because again - I do not know these people.

5. It feels like theyre doing a big character moment for Kachina but again, again, I just met her and she gave me this sob story of how she's too weak and now she's in the tournament winning because she believes in herself or something. This happened in like an hour? Why should I care? Good for you I suppose?

6. yaaaay woho good for you Kachina you won. Yup. Super cute and strong character moment that is completely undeserved from a writing perspective because I met her an hour ago. Hoyo, you're not getting me to like a character by taking shortcuts like this.

7........................................ Wasnt our reasoning for coming to the tournament that we could meet the Archon because she would be there? Well we didnt talk to her because of the tournament, and now the tournament is over, and we still ahvent talked to her..... So why are we leaving?

8. Boy I sure do love Statue of the Seven right at the border of the revealed map. Who wants exploration in an open world game?

9. We are really just going to hotsprings to relax. Does the Abyss and the Archon not matter to you at all, Traveller? You know, the Archon you said you wanted to meet as soon as you could and the Abyss YOUR FUCKING SIBLING IS INVOLVED WITH???

10. It wouldve been really funny if Honkai was a part of the Honkaiverse. I miss regular Honkai beasts.

11. Wait, werent only the victors of the tournament the ones to go fight the Abyss? If it can appear anywhere and regular guards fight them off...

12. hahahahha oh it just took them FOUR YEARS to remember that the Traveller can purify stuff.

Im not mad that they set it up, Im mad that it hasnt played a part in the story for four fucking years. Like if they actually did a long overarching story instead of nearly completely isolated stories for each region, us purifying the Abyss should have played a part often in the story and been the thing that makes us famous instead of... being that person that travels around the regions. I still cant tell what makes us so famous.

13. Yeah Hoyo has not given me a reason to care about Natlan so far. Its all "look at all these nice people and pretty places! Wouldnt it be sad if they got attacked?" and like people are dying and not even being afraid because they've died tons of times and been resurrected before and oh did I forget? Ive only known them for an hour and a half, two hours at most?

Act 1 completed. Complete failure. Another character got that "Yes! Thank you for the praise! Ill believe in myself now!" thing and, Hoyo, that worked super great when there was hardships and fighting and clashing and about 10 to 15 chapters behind it. It doesnt work well when you've given it 2 hours.

I dont think that Hoyo is good at writing long, open world stories. Theyre good at writing smaller, more focused stories. Not this. Every region is basically completely self contained. The biggest overarching plotline is Scara taking the Electro Gnosis and using it in Sumeru. That's it. One moment of overarching story over 6 regions.

It lacks character arcs. It lacks a connected plotline. The Abyss and the Unknown God and our Sibling has mattered so little for 4 freaking years. The Traveller has barely changed at all. Everyone we meet is basically already at the end of their character arc. Our journey makes no sense we keep backtracking constantly to revisit old regions and our order of exploring the regions is nonsensical and decided entirely on "Well, I think you should head here" by whoever we talk to at the end of an Archon Quest.

This isnt just GI, its HSR too. Why are we going back to the Luofu? Weren't our- wait. WERENT THE ASTRAL EXPRESS LOW ON FUEL??? Wasnt that the problem at the end of Penacony????? Wasnt that why we were going to the Black Swan planet?? WAIT WHY THE FUCK ARE WE BACK AT THE LUOFU???!??!

[moondirti]

this was… this- i don’t even have the words for it right now. i’m dumb, i’m fucking stupid. u know what this did to me, u know because i couldn’t stop raving to you throughout it and now I’m genuinely sick with delirium. chewed up and spit out, so feverish that i might as well be mc

His hands pull you away from Price, murmurs of soft words, things meant for a lover spill from his full pink lips. So pretty, hen; gonna make you feel so good.

soap 😭 he’s so desperate and filthy for it i love him so so much

You feel like a beached log—ruined by the gritty sand on the bottom of the seafloor, and spat back out into dry land.

an absolute STELLAR description for it. that feeling u get after being in the sun too long? that’s how i imagine it’d be coming out of this

Price, then, behind you. Alejandro's barking laughter (no way, cariño, you're too beautiful to never have been fucked like that before). The way Soap's eyes gleamed in the light. Rudy's quiet shake of his head. Ghost's eyes liquifying: heavy, midnight oil on your skin.

i could so so picture their bordering-predatory stares after you admit this. these men love a challenge and they sure as hell take your inexperience as one. (and boy, do they execute)

Gaz is gone somewhere in search of the petroleum jelly in the office upstairs.

GAZ ON HIS ANAL AGENDA YEAASSS

Fuck," Soap breathes, taking Rudy's place when he pulls away from you, lips red and glossy. He pushes his blunt head against your cheek. Cum spurts out, splattering across your face in thick milky ropes.

idk. Idk okay? this description just did something violent to me that i felt the need to highlight it

Soap's roam your body, slipping beneath your chest and the table, punching your nipples, stroking your belly.

soap 🤝 heavy petting. I love the idea that he’s absolutely unhinged when it comes to sex, all over you with his mouth and hands

That your pussy and your ass have been stretched, prepped, and are ready for them. All of them. 

THAT SHOULD BE ME!

Soap's fingers fall to your clit as Price hits the plug of your womb with the blunt head of his cock, sending pleasure ricocheting down your spine until you're arching off the table.

go on and tell me he isn’t trying to impregnate you. YOUD BE WRONG?

"No. Not yet." It's Ghost who speaks, and your belly rolls at the low husk of his voice. 

and ghost, finally speaking up with that punch of a line. it lets you know he’s watching, that he’s invested in the way these men wreck you. and by the father if that isnt the hottest thing

"Gonna fuck this pretty asshole. Gonna fucking ruin you. Alejandro's gonna fuck your pussy after, eh? Maybe me and Price can fill you up at the same time, huh?"

YES! gaz is mouthy during sex, argue with the wall. he doesn’t shut up, will babble incoherently about how well you’re taking him and all the things he wants to do to you

Price gets you off just by slapping his palm over your clit until you clench around Rudy's cock.

new kink, unlocked

You sob between them as they share a messy kiss over your shoulder, grunting into each other's mouths as they ruin you. 

AND FUCK ME? IT JUST GOT BETTER???

Footsteps. A hush. A shadow falls over you.

Then: "decide to join in, after all, Lt?

his presence holds so much power fuck😭 i want him so so bad

The air in your lungs catches, eyes widening. He's huge. Fat and throbbing, prespend leaks down the absurd length of himself. It twitches when he catches you staring at him, sticky, numbed mouth dropping open. 

oh my lord. christ. This mental image did things to me i can’t even begin to unpack. I’m ruined at this point, lev. I’m sorry i cant even be coherent

His thrusts are punctured by the soft way he gazes at you. […] The dance is familiar. 

But the gentle, almost possessive, way he touches you isn't. 

AND YES! YES PLEASE. the hint of softness, a glimpse into the reason why he didnt want to fuck you with everyone else? this possessive mf wants you all to himself (and. Why not i mean… he’s the bigg-)

A hand falls to your belly, feeling the swell, and the pressure has phosphenes burning your eyelids when they snap shut at the heavy mist of pleasure that falls on you. 

U KNEW WHAT THIS WOULD TO ME????

He likes the flash of pain that flickers across your face when he first kisses your drenched core with the fat head of his cock.

sadist ghost sadist ghost sadist ghost (say it with me everybody. It’s canon, infinity ward told me so themselves)

A Stygian being looming over you, taking its wares from the tight clutch of your body, and forcing the air from your lungs until it's filled with the scent of him, and nothing more. 

and of course it’s so devastatingly beautiful as well. because, just. of course it is. You’re so right with this description

But you won. There is victory in the ache that thunders through your joints. A hard-fought war that left you a victor in the middle of a burning no man's land. 

she won 😭 (i wish that was me more than anything. I would do vile things to take her place)

"So….," Soap slurs, cheeks pink and eyes swimming with incipient desire. "Round two?"

he’s insatiable. I’m telling u

I sincerely apologise for the mess of a comment i dumped in your reblogs. You can’t expect to drop this on me only to receive a reasonable response - horny brain cant afford to employ the literary analysis right now

excuse me while i tattoo this

body electric | everyone x f!reader

It's the burn of hindsight, that fuzzy little thing called moribund that leaks into your marrow as you all take turns showering (they let you go first, unspoken, of course), and converge around the large meeting room where everything—including Simon Riley—was exposed. 

Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever… had a gangbang before, and things quickly devolved from there. 

(Well. You can scratch that off your bucket list.)

Simon, Price, Gaz, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy x f!Reader

⇾warnings: unfettered filth; gendered reader, gendered terminology, female!reader; oral—m&f receiving; unsafe sex; p-in-v sex, fingering; anal, rimming, anal fingering; this is a 6 man gangbang ummmmmmmm what more can i add? 

⇾notes: um. yeah. it is what it is and it is nasty.

thank you so much @moondirti for encouraging me to write this, and @sprout-fics and @guyfieriii for the juicy ideas (and full credit for the makeout sess with Rudy goes to @guyfieriii) 🖤

(@ tumblrstaff, please don't delete my blog for this)

also, thank u so much cod fandom. if this revokes my fandom license, just know that it's an absolute honour and privilege to go out into the way i came in—with nothing but filth. 

you only have yourselves to blame. and this person in particular 😭

It starts like this: 

Price, a little bruised around the edges, and worn from the helicopter, grumbles about needing a drink. Gaz, a little quieter than usual, a little subdued, nods firmly beside him. 

It's a spate—Shepherd, Graves—and the cumulation of it all leaves you feeling a little lour, a little out of it. Betrayal, death. You all reek of gunpowder and ichor. 

That may be why there is a palpable sense of relief when Alejandro and Rudy fish out some bottles stashed away in the kitchen. He holds two by the nozzle, hefts them in the air, and says:

Who wants some?

No one, not even Ghost, says no. 

It's the burn of hindsight, that fuzzy little thing called moribund that leaks into your marrow as you all take turns showering (they let you go first, unspoken, of course), and converge around the large meeting room where everything—including Simon Riley—was exposed. 

Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever…, and things quickly devolved from there. 

That was then, before you knew how Price, Soap, Gaz Alejandro, and Rodolfo, liked to kiss. 

Price—rough, just like everything else about him; shades of smouldering tobacco leaves in the form of an unrelenting powerplay. He batters you into docility, leaves you feeling vapid and stupid by the time his hands rubs circles on the small of your back, the other holding your chin and leading you—always a leader, always—in whichever direction he wants. He's a thinly-veiled lesson in discipline. When you stray from his command, his fingers—thick, and bruising—are immediately there to reprimand you. He tastes like leather and smells like suede. His beard grazes your face until you feel a little sunburnt, a little dazed. He smells of low-grade motor oil and charred pinyon, and the musk of it makes you feel more intoxicated than the aged tequila on your tongue. 

His tongue curls over your teeth and the noises he lets out are rasping guttural growls. The kicking engine of a classic car that was left to idle for too long. An American muscle car, maybe. The whiplash bellow of a Hemi purring against your lips. A mustang, a Chevelle. Something drenched in masculinity and oozing authority. 

It's controlled. Blistering. He shifts your body around until you're tucked into the warm press of his chest. His hold is ironclad. No escape. 

It's Soap, then, something falling from his lips. My turn, maybe. But nothing is solid in the effervescent grey matter saturating your thoughts. You feel drunk with pink peppercorn and sweetgrass when it envelopes you from behind. 

His hands pull you away from Price, murmurs of soft words, things meant for a lover spill from his full pink lips. So pretty, hen; gonna make you feel so good. His eagerness shows he slots his pelvis to yours, and the hard, firm bulge of him nearly has you seeing stars. 

Soap lingers for a moment, fingers tracing the wet curve of your raw lips, chafed and irritated by the bristles of Price's beard. 

It wouldn't be wrong to call the way he touches the drying amalgam of yours and Price's—captain Price, superior, boss; untouchable—saliva obscene. It's filthy the way he grazes his finger under the curve of your lip, eyes honeycomb and wanting. 

"Wanna gimme a kiss, hen?"

When he asks you like that, soft and hushed, the ghost of his breath across your stinging lips, you can't say no. 

His mouth is molten on yours. He kisses you like he's starving for it. It's wet, and messy. Spittle drips down your chin when he shoves his tongue in your cavern, chasing your taste. Teeth clash, and your lips are pulled softly into his mouth until they swell, bruised and numbed. He only pulls away when you gasp, begging for air, grinning wickedly in the amber glow. 

You barely have a second to catch your breath before Gaz is there, hands firm on your ass, dragging you into him. 

Gaz peppers you in small, full kisses. Open mouth, teeth sinking into the plush bed of your bottom lip, suckling it into his mouth. Then he pulls away, leaves you dazed, and leaning forward, chasing the thrill of him. He huffs, hands sliding around the curve of your waist. Want it bad, eh? 

A tidal wave. A storm surge. They batter against you until you're drunk off the taste of them. An illicit elixir of sin. A tantalising tease of what's to come. 

Alejandro kisses you with unmatched finesse. Velvet soft sensuality that tastes of spiced clove and armoise. It starts slow. Just the press of his lips on yours. They lift into a grin, teeth sealed when you whimper and try to chase the santalum on his tongue. He laughs: a low, throaty chuckle, and wedges the tip between his teeth. A small taste, but not nearly enough to satiate you. You feel a little bit like you're floating in the clouds when his tongue finally fills the gap between your teeth; roiling over every inch of space he can find. 

You feel like a beached log—ruined by the gritty sand on the bottom of the seafloor, and spat back out into dry land. Covered in the taste of them all, you find yourself slipping off a steep precipice into a chasm you can't climb out of. 

It's Rodolfo, then, who grounds you. 

His hand is warm on your chin—a beacon of light in a dark tunnel. His lips are a balm to your irritated, bruised flesh. It's sweet. The taste of sweet Brachetto d'Acqui and hedgerow blossoms. He smells of golden copal and kisses you like he's pressing his lips to the hands of his Father; a baptism in soft skin and reverent touches that make you feel like you've been found. Its featherlight whispers of his lips across your skin: the corners of your mouth, the soft skin between your chin and lower lip. 

Hands on your waist, hot and heavy. Soap sinks his face in the space between your shoulder blades with a slow drawl of your name, teeth grazing your flesh. His stubble abrades your flesh until you're trembling in their embrace. Static shocks of pleasure bloom in the pits of your stomach. 

Rodolfo's head drops, murmured words spilling in hymnals as he nuzzles your neck. Soft, gentle. He puts you together again just to dissolve you into ashes from psalms. 

Gaz leaks grape cigarillos, and nag champa incense when he presses flush to your side. 

It's when he asks Alejandro if there's any oil, any lube, does it start to sink into your sun-warmed flesh that this is happening. It's real.

You could blame Gaz— never have I ever had a threesome or a gangbang —but the idea mushroomed inside of your head, sporous and damning, until it was all you could think about. you, of course, weren't immune to the sudden hush that fell over the group drinking near the table when you stammered out your answer: 

No, I've never had a threesome or a gangbang before.

It all happened so suddenly. The atmosphere was a rich, dense cloud of feverish energy buzzing around you; a miasma of hedonism in smoke and white musk. 

Price, then, behind you. Alejandro's barking laughter (no way, cariño, you're too beautiful to never have been fucked like that before). The way Soap's eyes gleamed in the light. Rudy's quiet shake of his head. Ghost's eyes liquifying: heavy, midnight oil on your skin. The sound of glass cracking when Gaz said:

Well, would you? 

Would I…? Silence. Poignant. Stifling. 

Would you ever have a gangbang? 

It spiralled from there. Gaz's words burrowing into your skin. His hands—are hot and heavy on your body. Soap dropping to his knees as he lifted your leg up on his shoulder, breathing deeply against your clothed cunt. 

Want to, hen? Wanna take all a'us? 

Alejandro's sharp breath. Might break her, hermano. Don't know about you, but I'm a big man.

Yeah, Price's mouth on yours, breath ghosting over your trembling lips. The scratch of his beard rubbing your skin until it was pink and flushed. Ain't the only one, mate. 

Lips searing into yours. Sensual rolls of his tongue from Alejandro, hands roaming across your back. A soft, sweet series of kisses that left you breathless from Rudy. Messy, almost hypoxia-inducing ones from Soap that made your head spin, and drool dripped down your chin, your neck, covering your chest. An intense, blistering assault by Gaz, his hand firm on the nape of your neck. 

It felt a little bit like a dream. Feverish and desperate. Tinged in the surrealism of being passed around like a prized trophy kissed after a well-won match. 

It feels like a cacoethes and carries the taste of Alejandro's tequila. Bad decisions made under terrible influence. 

And now—

Now:

There are hands on your body—many of them, in fact: Price holding the back of your knees up to your chest as he swipes his tongue over your aching cunt, lapping at your clit; Soap's on your nipples, pinching and tugging until you're mewling at the sharp pleasure-pain that ripples down your spine. Rodolfo stroking your face, murmuring in dulcet Spanish about how good you are, how pretty you look with your captain between your thighs. Alejandro's fingers ghosting over your torso, and trailing down to your throbbing clit when Price forces the thick of his tongue inside your quivering hole. 

It edges into overstimulation; you're equally aware of every single brush across your trembling flesh, and completely gone at the same time. Dissolved into liquid mush. 

And they haven't even really started yet. 

Gaz is gone somewhere in search of the petroleum jelly in the office upstairs. Ghost leans against the wall—not willing, you think, to partake but still here, still watching you spread out on the table where he dropped his mask for the first time as everyone touches you. 

"Fuck, cariño," Alejandro rasps, his finger pressing against your clit in tandem with Price's tongue fucking into the clutch of you. It's too much—his voice is heavy with sin and the heft of it makes you quake. "Bonita. You're so pretty like this, eh? All flushed pretty carmesí and aching for it." 

Rodolfo, Rudy he murmurs low in your ear when you whimper his name, chuckles. "She's stunning, eh, hermano."

"Fuckin' right," Soap breathes, his fingers drifting across your smeared lips. "You want this, aye, bonnie? Want us to fuck you silly?"

All you can do is moan brokenly around his hand, fingers rubbing across your tongue. 

"Where's Gaz?" Price grumbles into your cunt, beard grazing your inner thighs. "Wanna fuck this tight pussy already, love. Need to feel you around my cock—"

He punctuates his words with the tips of his blunt fingers, pushing two of them into your dripping hole. The sting makes you keen, makes your knees shake. You want to say too much, too sudden, but you can't speak around the three fingers shoved into your throat.

The look on your face makes Alejandro groan. "I want your mouth, cariño. Can I?" 

"Christ, hermano," Soap huffs, amused. Tone draped in sex. It makes your thighs quiver. "Ready to start, then?" 

"I am," Price grouses, nose flushed against your clit. "I've been thinkin' about this cunt for a long time, love."

They move in tandem. Seamless weaving with one singular goal of stuffing you full of each and everyone one of them. 

Soap pulls his hand away, rubbing your slick over his flushed cock. 

You moan against Alejandro's cock when he presses it to the seal of your quivering mouth. His hand is firm on your head, but his eyes are gentle. He waits for you, holding still until you give him your affirmation to continue. The sight of his flushed, tanned cock makes you whimper. He smells of sin: oud and myrrh; heady and thick. Your head swims with the way it clots in your lungs.  

Your mouth aparts, tongue rolling out over the weeping head of his cock. It's salty. Brinny. You moan a little when it slides deeper into your mouth. 

"Jesus—," Soap pants, rough and slurred. The noise jars into you. 

Hands fall over you again, and you lose track of who is touching you when Price groans into your cunt, and Alejandro pushes your jaw open wider, sliding more of his cock into your mouth. 

The air buzzes with something bordering on frenetic. Pent up energy from the success of the mission, the alcohol spuming in your veins. The high of the win burns through everyone. 

This—a gangbang —would never have happened if it wasn't somehow the perfect storm, the coalescence of all the right emotions. 

It's intense. Surreal. 

And then Alejandro pitches his hips forward with a smoked groan, murmurs:

"Fuck, gonna cum, cariño. Are you gonna swallow it for me?"

A hushed silence falls around you. It's one thing to attend, but another to partake, and you wonder if they are realising that this is the point of no return. 

It's met with a soft moan. 

You want it. Want his cum. Want to taste more of that salty haar tang in your throat, feel it settle in the pit of your belly. Hot and syrupy thick. 

He pitches his hips forward, hand sliding up the length of his cock not buried in your throat, stroking himself as you suckle on his head. It's sloppy, and wet, and fuck —

Alejandro is the first to cum. The first to spill his milky release on your tongue. It's salty, briny. Not at all dissimilar to the margaritas, he handed you hours ago.

His moan is choked and hoarse, a low bellow in the depths of his belly that rumbles through you in a series of deep uh, uh, uhs. 

You barely have time to swallow when Rudy is there. Hands on your cheek, eyes lidded and pleading. Can I, cariño? 

Alejandro's cum spills from your tongue when he pulls away, dribbling down your chin, neck. It puddles on your chest where Soap's thumb catches the droplets, smearing them around your hard nipples. 

You nod, swallowing down the mouthful of cum, brows furrowed in pleasure with each roll of Price's tongue laving at your cunt, and the gentle way Soap kneads your nipples. 

Rudy shuffles closer, and the flavour of cardamom spumes around you. His body burns hot, heavy cock twitching in his grip. Your mouth drops, tongue lulling out, and he grunts at the sight, eyes cresting. 

"You're beautiful, mi Reina."

Rudy's cock brushes across your tongue, eyes shuddering when you wrap your lips around him, head tipping back in pleasure. "Fuck…"

Your tongue laves over his slit, tasting the salty spill of him. His breath is ragged, heavy. There is no warning—just a strangled choke of your name—and then he's cumming on your tongue, ropes spurting over your cheeks and chin. 

You gasp, wet and broken, and absolutely filthy. 

"That's it—," Price mumbles against you, blowing a huff of air across your slit. It makes your toes curl—the perfect mix of not enough and too much, and—

Rudy strokes your hair, eyes glazed. The angle is awkward, but his mouth slots over yours, tongue rubbing over the mess they made of you. He kisses you like he's worshipping you. Like you're the best thing he'd ever tasted, and he can't get enough. 

There is a blunt pressure against your core. A delicious coil inside of you unspooling. 

Price has three fingers buried to the knuckle inside of you, tongue rolling over your clit, when you cum around him, knees shaking as you moan at the tight clutch of your walls stretched taut. 

"Fuck," Soap breathes, taking Rudy's place when he pulls away from you, lips red and glossy. He pushes his blunt head against your cheek. Cum spurts out, splattering across your face in thick milky ropes. "That's what you sound like when you cum? Jesus—"

You barely have time to catch your breath when Price lifts his head, beard soaked in your slick. Heat pools in your belly again at the sight. He looks like ruin. Wet and dark, and hungry. You whimper when he rubs the scuff of his damp hair over your spread pussy. Coarse hair grazes your clit, and the spark of pleasure has you seeing double. Makes liquid bliss bloom in your chest. 

"Couldn't wait, eh, cap?" Gaz returns with a wink, waving the bottle of jelly in his hands when he moves into your periphery. 

"Can it, and get over here." 

"Impatient."

Price helps you sit up, mouth stinging, and sticky with cum and saliva. His eyes catch in the dimming light high in the rafts. Drunken desire spools in the shades of sapphire blue. His thumb brushes across the corner of your mouth. 

"Might have to see you like this more often, love."

"Shooting your shot already, cap?" Gaz drawls, humour lacing in his tone. 

"Not my fault you waited too long."

"You're lucky," Alejandro rumbles. Firm hands fall to your shoulders, rubbing the knots in your back until your head falls, forehead pressed to Price's chest with a moan. "Should stay here, cariño. I'll make you happy. Get you nice and fat on Mexican food, and swollen with mis hijos e hijas."

"Sí," Rudy's lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering saccharine words in Spanish. "We'll live on the farm. Drinking wine every day. I'll take you to the coast."

You shudder, belly spuming with heat. Overwhelmed, dizzy. It's a dangerous elixir. A deadly combination. It makes you want, and yearn. 

"No way," Soap huffs. "She's comin' home with us. Back to the UK where she can sit on my cock whenever she wants—"

"You're all wrong," Gaz scoffs. "Price called dibs the moment—"

"That's enough." His command is rough, dry. 

Gaz glances at you, and the humour shifts. Darkens. "Fuck, look what they did to you already." 

You feel it, thick and viscous, on your burning skin. The flush deepens. You can only imagine what you look like. Your lashes are clumped together, and heavy. Cheeks irritated from the beard burn and the saline smear of cum over your flesh. Swollen, cock-bruised lips. Messy in voluptuary pearlescent. 

"You look good," Soap says, taut, and slightly breathless. 

They stare at you like you're a banquet—a feast. Your heart thuds in your chest, cum-filled belly rolling. Its—

Powerful. Sensual. 

Price's eyes flutter when he leans over you, hands feverish when they fall on your skin. "Gotta move you, now, love. That alright?"

You swallow and taste the ocean. The sea. "Y—yeah."

He shudders. A frisson flurries across his face. "Good."

His hands are solid on your body as they manoeuvre you until your belly is flushed to the table, panting against the damp fabric beneath you. He presses his cock against your ass, letting you feel the iron-hard, velvety soft heat of him. You push your hips back, cunt throbbing. You want it. Want his cock. Want him to fill you up until you're stuffed and fat, and—

Happy, Alejandro said. Happy. 

"Soon, love," his voice is a thunderclap in a bottle. You tremble when the balmy heat of him moves away from you, leaving you spread and exposed. 

"Fuck," Gaz murmurs. His hand trails down your spine, fingers slipping between the crease of your ass. 

He spoke to you about it already. Five of us. Wanna—he licked his lips, eyes hooded and caramel rich—wanna let me fuck your ass?

In for a penny. 

Gaz shushes you when you whimper, mouth ghosting over the soft flesh of your ass. He wastes no time. His fingers dig into your cheeks, spreading them open. You mewl. Your body is electrified: too much, too soon, too raw—too exposed; but Gaz groans deep in his throat. 

"Fuck, look at you." 

He doesn't give you a moment; doesn't waver even when Soap tells him to move away so they can see. There is no preamble. His tongue laves over your asshole, a filthy grunt spilling from his lips as he tastes your flesh.

"Steamin' Jesus, Gaz," Soap groans. Slick noises can be heard behind you. "Fuckin' Christ—"

It's strange. The sensation is heightened by the awareness that everyone—everyone—is watching Gaz devour your ass like it's the best meal he's had in weeks. You quiver, dropping your head into the table. Price stands by your side, cock jerking each time you moan. 

His hand on your head is a comfort. A heavy weight. Your hips rock back into Gaz's tongue, keening when it slips into your hole. It doesn't hurt, but there's an insistent pressure as he stretches you open. 

A cold, slick finger joins soon after, and the ache makes you choke. 

"S'alright, love," Price murmurs, and your lachrymose eyes blink open, gritty and sticky, and dart to him. His hand tightens around the base of his cock. Your cunt throbs at the sight. "Focus on me, yeah?"

"C—captain—"

The rawness in your voice makes him groan. Makes them groan. You can hear Alejandro swear. Soap grunt. More slick noises reverberate around you, and you flush. Cheeks burning. They're getting themselves off to this. To Gaz fingering your tight asshole open for their cocks. Another hole for them to slip inside. 

Fuck, fuck fuck—

"That's it," Price coos, low and smoky, and filled with rough tobacco. 

His hand threads through your hair as Soap's roam your body, slipping beneath your chest and the table, punching your nipples, stroking your belly. Rudy, or maybe Alejandro—you can't see, can't tell—tap on your clit as two fingers are pushed back into your throbbing cunt. 

You want them. Want it. 

"P—please—"

Price groans, his cock spitting out prespend that dribbles down the length of him. "I want you to suck my cock, love. Will you do that for me?" 

You nod, core quivering as a rush of heat flutters down to the base of your spine. You still taste Alejandro, Rudy, on your tongue. 

You wonder if Price tastes just as good.

Price helps you move, and angles his cock toward you, grunting when your wet, sloppy mouth seals over the head. 

He tastes even better. Salty and bitter. Tobacco ash and smoke. You want to drown in it. 

Gaz stretches your ass as you swallow your captain's cock, and your head still spins with that notion, not quite able to believe you're on your knees for them, spread open, and being readied for all of them that take. 

It cudgels into your stomach: a gnarling frisson that makes throb, makes you push back onto Gaz's fingers, his tongue, and moan around Price's cock. 

"That enough, Gaz?" He sounds wrecked when he speaks. Ashes and gasoline; it's saturated in want. The air crackles with impatience. 

His tongue slides across your fluttering hole in a long, wet stripe, as if savouring the taste of you before he pulls back. 

"Yeah—," it's wet when it slurs out of him. His fingers press against your loose hole, moaning a little when you greedily take the tips inside. "Fuck, she's more than ready, cap."

Price wastes no time. He pulls you off of him, and the others—all communicating in a series of strange commands you can't decipher through the rush in your head—all make room for him. 

He turns you around, and lifts you onto the table, legs spread around the thick of him. His cock throbs against your pussy when you wiggle back, trying to get comfortable on the bed of masks—Ghosts masks—and it hits you, now, that you're going to get fucked. That your pussy and your ass have been stretched, prepped, and are ready for them. All of them. 

He stares down at you, nostrils flaring, and the dark look in his molten sapphire gaze makes you wonder if he feels it, too. If it's hitting him with just as much of a punch as it is you. 

His cock nudges against your hole. He pauses, eyes flickering up from the seal of your cunt around his flushed, engorged head, to confirm, one last time, if you want this. If you're sure.

It's debauched and absolutely filthy, but—your hand reaches out when Soap steps up, cock bobbing with each step, and you grasp his shaft. Alejandro's fingers ghost over your bruised, swollen mouth, and you let him lead your head to his throbbing cock, lips sealing over the leaking head. 

Rudy's hands are reverent when he takes your other hand, bringing it to his length. 

It's all the confirmation he needs, but still. Price waits. Your heart thunders in your chest. Your captain—always so—

The thought is nipped when you nod around Alejandro, and he pushes inside of your pussy. Stretching your cunt with his girth. You moan, legs falling open wider as he splits you apart. 

It's good. It's too much. It's—

He feeds it into you, lips curled up in a snarl as you split around him. He grunts—rasping growls that spool inside of your core until you're white-hot, and whimpering. 

"Come on, love," is rucked from his throat. A battering ram against your chest swinging hard, and ferocious until you see stars. "You can take me."

It makes you tremble. Makes the world around you grind together; tectonic plates shifting, crashing. Earthquake tremors along the base of your spine, rattling your bones. It cracks them open, and leaks Nirvana through your bloodstream. 

Price's cock wrenches you open. Each inch jarring the soporific slurry of sex and smoke congealing heavy in your veins until you're mewling around Alejandro's cock. 

His groans of pleasure as resin thick; smouldering sandalwood. Cracking sap. He works himself inside of you, gruff praises falling from his still-damp lips. You feel good. This pretty cunt was made to get ruined, wasn't it? Take me, love. That's it. They slide over your skin, oud oil and syrup thick, until your flesh prickles with goosebumps. 

Alejandro's cock hits the gummy walls of your throat, his grunt curls over you. Clove and amber. You burn. There is a give, and then—

His hips slide against yours, cunt stuffed to the brim with his cock. Tears leak down your cheeks at the feeling of him sitting so heavy inside of you, at the blunt press of Alejandro's cock choking you in shallow thrusts. 

"Bloody hell—," he groans, head tipping back as he stares at the seal of your pussy taut around the base. "Look'it you. So full of cock. You look like you were made for this, pretty thing."

"Our little slut, eh?" Alejandro huffs, pushing his hips closer to your face as you lap at him. "If her pussy feels as good as her mouth, hermano, I won't last too long."

"Fuck, can't wait to fuck you next," Soap grunts, his hand wrapping around yours as he guides you along, showing you what he likes. "Cannae fuckin—"

Rudy's hand falls to your swaying chest, rubbing your aching nipples as Price begins to fuck you, filling you up over and over again with his fat cock. 

It's good. It's so fucking good. You whine around Alejandro, and feel molten pleasure bloom in your belly as they use you, revere you; eyes fixed on your body as you take them all in. 

"I'm gonna cum soon," Price grunts, his hips pistoning into you hard enough to jar the table. The metal legs grind against the cement floor. The room filled with the scent of sex and the lewd noises that spill from the wet squelch of your cunt greedily swallowing down your captain's cock. The suckling sound of Alejandro fucking your throat. "Look at you, look at this pretty fucking cunt taking me—"

Soap's fingers fall to your clit as Price hits the plug of your womb with the blunt head of his cock, sending pleasure ricocheting down your spine until you're arching off the table. Muscles coil, tightening together as he knocks into the soft walls of your pussy, sending you reeling. 

"Ah, fuck—," Alejandro grunts. "I'm gonna cum, cariño. You'll swallow it for me, eh? Swallow it all—fuck—"

He cums down your throat for the second time, hands stroking your face as he feeds it to you with muttered words in slurred Spanish too fast for you to pick up.

You can't focus. Can't think—

The taste of cum on your tongue, the blissed noses that spill around you, and the way Price fucks you deep, battering against your fluttering walls have you seeing stars. 

You moan, nearly choking on the thick cum that drenches you. Soap leans down, spits on your clit, and rubs the mess in with his fingers. It's feral. It's disgusting—

Your cunt spasms as you're shoved over the precipice, squeezing and throbbing like a heartbeat around the thick plug of Price's cock as he spears it against your womb; a battering ram into your flesh. 

"Jesus, captain," Soap sounds awed, voice pitched low and slurred. "Just givin' it to her, aye?"

"Fuckin' hell—"

He cums inside of you with a grunt of your name draped in liquid sin. Cock twitching deep inside of you, pressed taut to your womb. He holds it there and makes you take it. Drowns your cunt in his thick cum. 

It's wet between your thighs. Your throat clicks when you swallow, nose burning from the flood of briny cum Alejandro poured down your throat. 

Price pulls out slowly, taps the head of his sticky cock against your clit, and you flush at the feeling of him leaking out of you. 

There is no respite. Gaz's hands are on your body, head numb and fuzzy, as they speak about the intricacies of fucking you, of filling you up. 

"Think she's ready for two?"

"Are you?" Soap's fingers fall to your aching cunt, spreading the thick cum around your clit. "Can you take us both?"

"No. Not yet." It's Ghost who speaks, and your belly rolls at the low husk of his voice. 

"Yeah, give her one more." 

Soap's fingers slip into your cunt, and curl against your sensitive walls. "Fuck, captain. You filled her up good."

Rudy's thumb presses against the seam of your mouth, eyes pleading when he stares down at you. His thick cock grasped in his hand. 

You're little more than a ragdoll. An offering between the gods. Soap parts your thighs, head tapping against your throbbing cunt. 

Price leans against a beam close by, eyes burning into you in search of any glimmer of distress. Having him close by calms you. Makes you relax. You settle, mouth popping open for Rudy as Soap pushes himself into your pussy. 

"Fuck, your pussy feels incredible—"

He lets out a string of curses in rapid-fire Scots, burying the full length of himself into your cunt. 

He fucks you like he's aching for it. A madman. His hips bludgeon into you until you're seeing stars, until you're choking around Rudy's cock. It's too much. Too much—

You want more. 

Rudy's hands are gentle on your face, brushing your hair away as he cants his hips. His cock slides over your tongue, and you try to hollow your cheeks, to make it good for him, but the blistering pleasure makes your mouth fall open. 

"It's okay, bonita." He murmurs, resting his head on your tongue as he fists the length of himself. "Just like this, okay? Just like this. Let me—," he fucks into his palm, eyes rolling back as he rubs his weeping slit over your tongue. 

Gaz's hand grabs your swaying breasts in his hand. "I'm gonna fuck your ass next, yeah? Gonna split your little hole open on my cock. You don't want, don't you? Wanna be fucked in all holes, like a little whore."

Fuck. Fuck—

Rudy pushes his cock into your mouth, groaning as molten cum sputters out, drenching your tongue and cheeks. 

"Oh, fuck—," Soap pants, hips slamming into you. His eyes are fixed on your messy face. "You look so fuckin' pretty with cum all over you, so fuckin' good for us, aye?"

His eyes snap shut, brow furrowed in pleasure as he buries the full length of himself inside of your spasming pussy, filling you with another load of cum. 

It's good. It's so good. The sensation of hands on your body isn't foreign anymore. Alejandro moves when Rudy finishes, stroking your hair, and leaning down to kiss your forehead. You go to him eagerly, mouth parting as he slips his softened cock into your mouth. 

Words are murmured around you, grunts and groans of pleasure so robust and full that you clench, aching at the sound of their bliss. 

Fingers on your nipples, your clit, makes you see white. Makes your back arch as liquid pleasure blooms inside your core again. 

Soap pulls out, and you barely have time to mourn the loss of him when Gaz slots between your legs, fingers falling to your ass, and slipping inside with a groan. 

"Nice and loose, now," he purrs, spreading his fingers inside your tight channel. "Gonna fuck this pretty asshole. Gonna fucking ruin you. Alejandro's gonna fuck your pussy after, eh? Maybe me and Price can fill you up at the same time, huh?"

"Gaz," his name is drenched in smoke, a shuddering rumble that stabs tight into your core when Price speaks. Your cunt throbs at the thought. "If you don't hurry up—"

"Alright, alright, cap." 

Rudy's behind you at the head of the table, hands roaming over your skin, smearing cum all over your flesh. He murmurs low, sweet words in Spanish you can't hear over the roaring in your ears when Gaz spreads your legs, cock nudging against your virgin hole. It's comforting, though. His presence is solid. Your hands grip his forearms, whining at the sting, the blunt pressure pushing into you. 

Soap groans. You can hear his voice to your left along with slick sounds of him touching his spent cock. 

"That's so fuckin' hot. Steamin' fucking Jesus—"

You're relaxed enough that Gaz slips inside without much of a burn. It feels strange: a heavy pressure, a slight sting. You're prepared enough that it's more foreign, and uncomfortable than it is painful. But it's—

Full.  

You moan when his hips buck shallowly, pushing more of him into your asshole. It's weird. It's strange. It's—

"How does it feel, love?"

Price's fingers fall on your throbbing clit. Alejandro's—you think, maybe; you can't see through the blurred tears in your eyes—push into your sopping cunt, groaning wetly at the lewd squelch of the cum inside of you. 

"It's—"

Belly full. A pressure unlike anything you'd felt before. Snug, and tight, and—

"Good," you whimper, arching your back. Your nipples are tugged. Pussy stuffed with three of Alejandro's fingers. Ass full of Gaz when he finally, finally, bottoms out with a moan. "It's so good—"

He fucks you slow, steady. Savouring the tight clench of you around him. 

Price works your clit, murmuring about how good you are. How pretty you look, full of cum and getting your ass stuffed with cock. 

"You were made for this, weren't you? Little cockslut."

It punches the air from your lungs when he hisses it into your ear. 

Gaz pushes the length of himself inside your ass, moaning about how tight you are. How he can't wait to fill you up. His hands fall, sliding over your ass cheeks until he brushes over the rim of your stretched hole, hips stuttering. 

"God," he chokes. "Fuck, you look good."

"Yeah, she does," Soap breathes, hands palming at your body, rough and hot and tacky with his release. They glide up the length of your body, pressing into your swollen mouth. "Open up for me."

His fingers taste of pennies when he pushes them against your tongue, stroking over your flesh. He thrusts them in tandem to the rolls of Gaz's cock splitting you deeply. It's a filthy crescendo of moans, grunts, the sloppy wet sound of your gummy mouth being fucked by three of Soap's fingers, and the lewd, fleshy snap of Gaz's pelvis and thighs slapping against yours. 

Rudy strokes your hair, pushing the tangled mess of it out of your eyes, and murmurs about how good you're being. The soft praise prickles over you like the warm glow from an altar candle. The heat makes your eyes burn, stinging with tears, and you take what they give you, and try not to get lost in the rapture of their flesh staining your skin. 

Price's finger pushes against your sensitive clit. Rudy's soft voice permeates around like burning incense. The heavy weight, the foreign slide, of Gaz stretching your channel makes you keen low in your throat, muffled by the messy drag of Soap's knuckles on the roof of your mouth. 

You cum again, shuddering from the billowing pleasure blanketing you from all sides, and fall into the embrace of Rudy's arms. Price's hands are a plinth on your hips, keeping you up, keeping you grounded, and Gaz works himself to completion, scorched words of bliss spilling from gritted teeth.

Soap leans down, tongue catching the mess spilling from your gaping mouth. Alejandro rubs your fluttering walls. It's intense. Overwhelming. You're surrounded by a dense smog of pleasure and musk: clove cigarettes, bayberry, oakmoss, and the thick tang of a wet, loam and humus forest. 

The drawling moan Gaz lets out makes your core ache. He buries himself deep, hips glued to the plush seam of your ass, and he spills deep inside of you. 

"Joder, cariño, you look good with your ass stuffed, eh?"

You can't speak around Soap's fingers. The only noise that spills is a sloppy, wet moan. 

Gaz presses kisses into your spine, slowly, slowly, pulling out of your ass. 

"Yeah, she does." He slurs, rubbing his chin over the small of your back. "Who's next?" 

Everything blurs into a fever dream of hands and tongues, and the delicious stretch of your cunt, your ass, as they stuff you full of them. Filthy words are whispered into your temple as they grow bolder with your body. 

Price gets you off just by slapping his palm over your clit until you clench around Rudy's cock. Soap licks up your tears, fingers pressed as far down your throat as he can get them, and murmurs how sexy you look full of cum. How he can't get enough of your tight cunt and pretty little hole.

You were made for them, Alejandro whispers, and pulls your hips down until you're seated on his cock. The blunt head of Rudy's cock soon presses to your wet asshole, bottoming out with a deep groan. His hands are reverent as they run across your flesh, choked whimpers falling out about how fucking stunning you look when you're stuffed to the brim. 

You sob between them as they share a messy kiss over your shoulder, grunting into each other's mouths as they ruin you. 

Gaz and Price drag you away soon after they finish, petting your messy hair away from your sticky, sweaty forehead, and splitting you apart between them. You scream into Price's chest as he holds the fat of your ass cheeks open for Gaz to rut into like a man starved for it. Possessed. He coos in your ear when Soap shoves his cock into your gaping mouth, choking you on the thick of him. So fucking good, love. Meant for this. After we'll run you a bath and you sit on my cock while I clean you up, hmm? 

You feel a little stripped down to the marrow, pulverised under their wanting hands; when Price presses into your womb, and cums again. The molten spume inside soothes the throbbing ache of your core. A debauched balm to a raw wound. 

It would be a lie to say you hate the way it feels to be so full of them. To have their taste in your tongue, sticking to the back of your throat, pooling in your belly, your pussy, your guts. You're full and sore and you feel like one massive contusion—broken and battered and barely clinging to sentience—when his cock slips free with a wet squelch. 

It's a little surreal, but—

Comfortable. It shouldn't be. It should be weird, and awkward, and—

Fuck. You had sex with five men in the span of several hours. Your teammates, your captain, no less. And yet. 

Yet:

You feel full in a way you'd never been before. Satiated and stupidly fucking happy. 

Price snorts when you lay back on the floor, a blissed-out smile tugging on the corners of your mouth.

"Liked it, did you?"

You don't have the capacity for speech. Words escape you. They can't seep through the salty mess in your throat. 

Instead, you moan—low and needy—and feel your belly quiver when Price's eyes flash. Smoke and embers. And when Alejandro groans aloud. When Rudy's hand trembles on your skin. When Soap's hand falls to his spent, softened cock, unable to stop the thrum of desire when you sound like you had the best meal in years. When Gaz shivers, and says please tell me we can play this game more often. 

It's good. It's—

Footsteps. A hush. A shadow falls over you.

Then: "decide to join in, after all, Lt?"

Ghost's hands are hot on your sensitive flesh.

He says nothing as he crouches down on the floor where Gaz and Price dragged you, but his eyes are liquid when he stares at the mess of you. Drenched, you're sure, in cum; it leaks down your chin, out of your sensitive, raw pussy, and your aching hole. Doused in their pleasure, and burning from the sting of their ardour. 

"Fuck, Lt," Soap murmurs, dazed. He'd spent himself on your face only moments ago, and when your glassy eyes fall to him, you find him staring fixed at the apex of your thighs where Ghost slots himself between. "You're gonna ruin her—"

You don't know what he means until you look back. The air in your lungs catches, eyes widening. He's huge. Fat and throbbing, prespend leaks down the absurd length of himself. It twitches when he catches you staring at him, sticky, numbed mouth dropping open. 

"S—sir—"

His hand slides, fists the base of himself. He taps the head of his cock against your quivering, sloppy cunt. "Can you take me, pet?"

Shit. Shit—

You don't think you can, not at all, but—

Slick noises around you. Grunts of pleasure. Murmured words. They want to see you split apart on his cock. Stuffed full. Your belly lurches. Heat simmers inside of you once again. 

Your trembling eyes find his, and you lay back against the floor, knees parting. Inviting. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip. 

"Fill me up, sir—"

He snarls. 

Ghost doesn't wait. Doesn't touch you with softness, or reverence. His hands are branding, white-hot, when they fall to your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest. His eyes are glued to the messy seam of your cunt, spilling viscous cum down your ass until it pools below you in a puddle. 

You're wrecked. Ruined. You'd had all of them inside of you—your mouth, your pussy, your ass—except him, and your belly flips, head a muddled slurry of want, want, want as the fat head of his cock slips over the milky mess, catching on your ruined, red hole.

"Thought you got lost, Ghost," Alejandro says, words carrying secrets you can't make sense of. 

"Never." 

He pushes the mushroomed head into your cunt, rumbling at the give of your body as you part for him, sucking him in deep. Ghost fills you up until your belly bulges with the length of him. 

Soap moans at the sight. At the way you take the massive cock burrowing deep inside of you. 

They all seem to be enjoying the way he ruins you. Over the heft of his shoulder, the thick bracket of his arms, you see them all staring at the way he wrecks you. Batters your body with wet, sloppy noises spilling out. 

He fucks you slow: long, deep plunges into your core, gaze sliding in increments to your face, slack and tacky with lashes clumped together with an amalgamation of spittle and cum, and the stretch of your cunt swallowing him to the root. It's intense. Dizzying. 

You feel pushed past your breaking point: overarching beyond the mettle until you're a raw nerve exposed to the corrosive chemicals in the air. Split apart and reassembled into something new and vulnerable. You're chafed and aching, and it edges on painful, and blistering like a third-degree burn being rubbed against rough wool. But despite the sting, the graze still feels good when it itches over your inflamed skin. A balm that burns before it soothes. 

Ghost—Simon, now, you suppose since he's currently eight inches deep inside of your sore cunt—seems to somehow know. Maybe it's the hoarse crackle in your throat when he hits you deeply, or the exhausted droop of your eyes when he presses his weight against you, filling you up until he sits heavy in your chest, but he takes pity on your poor, battered body bursting with the molasses thick heft of euphoria that congeals inside of your marrow. His thrusts are punctured by the soft way he gazes at you. A physical weight to his stare slams into your chest with each roll of his hips, nudging you back to that steep precipice you'd dropped from so many times you'd lost count. 

The dance is familiar. 

But the gentle, almost possessive, way he touches you isn't. 

"Fuck, Lt. Can see you bulging through her belly." 

Soaps words are met with a rasping snarl, a brutal piston of his cock into your gummy, wrung-out walls. A hand falls to your belly, feeling the swell, and the pressure has phosphenes burning your eyelids when they snap shut at the heavy mist of pleasure that falls on you. 

You don't think you can cum again. Your head is a slurry of intense pleasure: gummy and stupid on the way they fucked the sense out of you. Synopses misfire. You feel like you're barely cognisant anymore. 

It's not good enough, though. 

His fingers find your clit, pressing against the tender nub until you're bucking against him, trying to get away from the agonising euphoria pounding through your core. 

"I want to feel you cum on my cock, pet." 

You can't—

You really can't. But he doesn't relent. He shoves himself into your quivering cunt until you see stars flash across your eyes, and the scent of nirvana permeates in the air. 

If you won't go willingly to the vertiginous edge, he'll drag you there instead.

A sharp thrust has your mind whiting out; the overstuffed feeling of being stretched to the brim sits heavy in your core. Nails press into his shoulders, desperate to hang on to something tangible, real. Nails dig deeper until the moons flood with blood. It makes him groan—deep, low; rucked coals over open flames—and the noise has you reaching for Orion with your bare hands, mouth dropped low to catch the cosmic dust that permeates in the air between you. 

"Fuck—" a sharp whimper has him huffing into your neck, a satisfied noise he can't bite off, can't stifle. 

He likes it. Likes spreading you open, and watching you squirm. Likes the flash of pain that flickers across your face when he first kisses your drenched core with the fat head of his cock. Eyes wide, fixed on the scrunch of your brow, the wrinkles in your nose, the deep, punctured gasps that spill from your gaping mouth—he misses nothing, stare branding you.

It's the thick of him when it splits you apart, breaks you in half, that really captures his full attention. Stuffed to the brim, and clawing at him for respite from the way he fits inside of you; he takes it all in. Eyes never wavering. Liquid want flooding the bottom ring of his lower eyelids, a molten pool half hidden behind his lash line. He gazes down at you, fans of ash cresting over. 

And then when he bottoms out, when his cock is fully seated inside of your body that struggles to make room to fit him, he lifts his gaze. A perfect polynya. He stares at you, then, watching—almost placidly, impassively—as you grit your teeth from the burn of taking him to the root. A slow roll of his hips to test your mettle; a harsh grind of his cock nestled taut against the plug of your womb. It has you singing. 

A test of the water. A battering of the futile clutch you have over your sangfroid. He won't start until it breaks. Until it shatters. 

His hands are hot when they grasp the soft skin behind your knees, pointing them down toward your swaying chest as he fucks you open in deep, almost languid cants of his hips until you're grabbing at the ground, and mewling his name. Broken, now, by his cock. 

Simon is a storm. 

A gale. He ravages you until you're dizzy with the brutal way he takes you—and takes, takes, takes —and begging for mercy. 

None comes. 

You can't barter with a typhoon. Can't make deals with a hurricane. 

It hits. Breaching your shores with enough force to ruin. 

"Simon," it IS whispered low, constricted. The air in your lungs is liquifying; condensation builds until you're choking. 

Another huff. He thrusts harder, head notching into something that has you lurching forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder. You spasm around him until he growls in your ear. 

His thighs widen, pitching his hips low as fucks into you, a touch savage. Your leg slips from his hold, the back pressed against the muscles of his beneath you. The coarse hair of his legs tickles your flesh. Goosebumps erupt. You shiver. 

The breath you gasp in is wispy, and thin. It isn't enough to quench the ache in your chest, but nor is it enough to truly let you slip into the throes of hypoxia. He brings you to the brink, lets you gaze over the edge of that unknown abyss, but refuses to let you any further. His grip is unyielding. It burrows into you. 

Like this, with black moulting over your vision and phosphenes glimmering in the cosmic yonder that stretches out in front of you, you can feel everything. There is a startling clarity that rocks through you. You can feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he slams it into you, prying your walls open as he steals all the air from your lungs.

"Shit—"

He cums with a grunt that sounds like it was dragged through barbed wire. Liquid pleasure blooms when you feel him twitch inside of you, and all you can do is cling to his massive shoulders as he rides you through the throes of bliss battering into your core. 

Eyes drink you in: wide in the pale moonlight that spills from the window, cut at the bridge of his nose by the mask, jowls snapping at you. He's bathed entirely in black; drenched in tenebrose. A Stygian being looming over you, taking its wares from the tight clutch of your body, and forcing the air from your lungs until it's filled with the scent of him, and nothing more. 

"You look good like this," he murmurs, eyes fever red and cosmic black. "Fuckin' hell, pet. You were made to be fucked, weren't you?" 

Your eyes roll back into your head at the gruff sin leaking from behind his mask. 

"Yes," you whimper, voice shredded and wrecked. He's not the only one who groans at the sound of you, ruined and aching. "Fuck, I love your cocks—"

It feels like the end. Like you'd been spat out on the wrong side of a tornado, and thrust into a battle you weren't, entirely, prepared for. 

But you won. There is victory in the ache that thunders through your joints. A hard-fought war that left you a victor in the middle of a burning no man's land. 

You can hear them around you. Price stroking your hair, and whispering about how good you were. Gaz and Soap huffing with exhausted laughter that sounds a touch delirious, as if they still couldn't quite wrap their heads around the act they were buried balls deep inside of you mere moments ago. 

Alejandro and Rudy mutter to each other in blistered Spanish. You hear the clink of bottles as they toast each other over a victory, and a fucking gangbang. 

They take turns touching you. Caring for you. Rudy makes you drink water, eyes melted chocolate—glossy and sleek with the remnants of pleasure. Aqui. He says, pressing the cool bottle to your sweat-slicked forehead. Aquas. Drink up, mi corazón. 

Alejandro supports your shoulders when you struggle to sit up and take a sip. Gaz has a towel pressed to your cheeks, cleaning up the flaking mess of dried cum and sweat. Soap's hands clench yours tight when the bottle shakes in your grasp. Price is there to hold it steady. 

Ghost hasn't taken his eyes off of you once since this started. You meet his stare, gloaming light shading everything in gold. He tips his chin. A promise in the obsidian cut of his eyes. 

Thought you got lost, Ghost—

Gaz huffs. Gems shatter. Crushed into shards that sit in the palm of your hand, waiting to be reassembled. 

(Someday, you think.)

"Best game of never have I ever, ever." 

 

  "So….," Soap slurs, cheeks pink and eyes swimming with incipient desire. "Round two?"

[dreamsy990]

so ur in the dbh fandom so whats ur take on the alice being an android twist

OH MY GOD YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT YOU JUST SIGNED UP FOR

OKOKOKOKOKOK SO I HATE THAT FUCKING THING

*inhale*

the twist adds NOTHING to the game. in fact it NEGATES from the game.

the whole point of kara and alice's story was for it to show that even android/human families can still love each other just as much as any humans would.

now HOW does alice being an android add ANYTHING to that??????????????

SPOILER ALERT, IT DOESNT.

alice being an android TAKES AWAY from the whole. loving them even if their blood isnt the same or whatever IDEA IT WAS GOING FOR. its a twist FOR THE SAKE OF A TWIST

its also just. really predictable. i remember guessing it immediately and wondering if theyd do something with it. they did not.

the only thing that is even AFFECTED by this twist is the whole uh. if you fuck up kara while escaping jericho theres a bit where you can get brought to an android camp with alice???????? thats the ONLY THING affected by this twist.

the game wouldve been better if she just. was not an android

the only other thing i can think of that might actually be changed if alice was human would be todds story/trying to get him not to expose kara at the border bus thing. and to that i say. JUST GIVE HIM CUSTODY OF THE REAL ALICE. heres uhh how i think the story shouldve played out instead to give it roughly the same ending:

alice had a relatively happy home life, until her mom walked out to go be with some fucking accountant or whatever. in the divorce, todd managed to get custody of her. todd diludes himself into thinking alice WANTED to be with her mom (whether or not its true is unclear) and takes out all his anger on her.

there you go rough idea that gives the same result. all you have to do is change alices line in on the run from "why didnt he ever love me?" to "why didn't he love me anymore?" and THERE YOU FUCKING GO

it would also make alice's being cold less annoying in retrospect because. shes genuinely cold shes a child she complains she has problems like that. androids dont feel cold and you can literally turn off her temperature sensitivity at the end.

i always found that moment just. so stupid when its revealed. like all you had to do was nothing. like instead of revealing alice is an android maybe luther wants to say that... idk alice is having nightmares and is traumatized and needs some support because shes in the middle of a war running away from home and has witnessed multiple deaths like. shes fucking traumatized. and have the moment be just kara comforting her and promising that once they cross the border it'll all be over and she'll be safe and she wont have to worry about getting hurt anymore.

as for the camp, i honestly dont know since i havent played through it yet. but i dont see how we couldn't, i dunno, have alice being kept somewhere so she can be taken to find her parents so theres a time limit and kara needs to find her before shes gone or she cant escape with her???????????? idfk i havent seen that section of the game yet. im probably gonna play it later tbh

but like. these are small changes that get rid of whats supposed to be a big twist. if your "big twist" can be removed with minimal changes, and it actively goes against the themes of what youre making, then its a bad fucking twist.

thanks for coming to my ted talk

[kodev]

re:ocs

what's their story? how are their relationships with each other?

sooo sorry for the late reply, i was drawing up a diagram lol... my apologies for the sketchiness

ANYWAYS oc dump below the cut so i dont spam people haha.. btw i appreciate ur asking so much i love talking about my silly guys thank you so bad

Game (tentatively titled appetite) revolves around Sedespa with Cailean being the arguable second main character. And perhaps love interest but I don't know if I want to go that far yet

Anyways Sedespa's backstory is basically thus: born with twin brother (not identical, sorry) in Eastern country in coastal mountains, raised by great-aunt who is a witch (I forgot to mention that a lot of this will not make sense without prior mahoyaku worldbuilding knowledge but if needed i can provide. actually i would LOVE to provide i love you mahoyaku. anyways carrying on) great aunt dies, house burns down in a fire, aapeli and sedespa join central rev after sedespa suggests it, sedespa begins to specialize in medical magic whereas aapeli is apparrently gifted with scrying magic and quickly rises up the ranks much to sedespa's chagrin, sedespa's girlfriend dies and aapeli eats her (again wizard lore) as her last request as sedespa didn't make it to the battlefield in time, aapeli is able to foresee the failure of central rev and suggests they leave, sedespa kills aapeli in a fit of.. well... jealousy anger resentment but he says its because he didnt want his brother to die a traitor, gets scarred and eats aapeli (more wizard lore), begins to travel the world but is never able to find peace, stops by a place in south where hes advised to return to his childhood home, and mysteriously finds it intact with someone else living inside...? he also has a brief stint with northern gang during which he transgenderifies

Sedespa is like 400 yrs old at this point give or take a few years

Cailean is the guy who randomly took up residence in the house.. Um... Cailean backstory: born on the border of Central/East/North but he was basically born in Central to like.. idk what the mahoyaku version of middle class is but basically that human family... his brother is a successful business man who migrated to east and his family are tradeworkers/merchants. Cailean's always been kind of awful at traditional school so despite his parents' best efforts he went into apprenticeship with a botanist. He hid the fact that he was a wizard until someone ratted him out and then he got kicked out, then went to his brother's for like support, his brother also tells him to fuck off (putting it nicely), and he finds this random house in the woods in which he lives by himself for the next like, 20 years. he's currently attempting to self teach botany while also having like zero idea of how to use magic at all... however he still cares abotu his family so he finds this random orb in the basement through which he is able to check up on them from time to time.. the house in which he resides is also almost sentiently taking care of him as well

Wow that was a lot of backstory anyways they meet up Sedespa spends three days of insanity trying to figure out why the entire house seems to be taunting him with nostalgia and guilt and eventually finds a fragment of his brother still residing within the magic tool he had (Hint: scrying orb), Sedespa and Cailean get along famously well before Sedespa discovers the orb and then Sedespa tries to explode Cailean so he can break the orb, Aapeli is taunting Sedespa from the orb the entire time, Sedespa and Cailean get into a scuffle and accidnetally break the orb and then I haven't written anymore.

Apologies for the wall of text, but let me know if you would want to know anything else!

[writemyaceattorneys]

GOD 🦆anon You are Talented!!

Legit gave me chills-

DONT MIND IF I ADD ON ;D - 🌌anon

They sould only sputter as wild theories became reality before the small grey screen, the only point of interest being their avatar for the game.

He was sentient. They all were.

No wonder the story would completely derail off the few times they used a walkthrough, how all the start of chapter cutscenes seemed to be so censored. No wonder there were more chapters than what they were told in game - they were told there was 5 maximum per game, not 10. No wonder character dialogue would be so... off, out of character almost, eerie and almost directed towards them.

...rationality decided to pop its head back into their mind, bordering a state of panic from confusion, commenting that maybe they were just seeing things.

It was late at night after all. Trial 10 was taking its sweet time with the pre trial segment with miles and maya seeming to always vy for phoenix's(...? They couldn't decide. Was it for him or them?) Attention.

...right, they'd get through this and save.

It was just another part of the game. The supernatural didnt exist - otherwise it'd just be natural.

"Alright... talk... there's no dialogue options though." They glanced down to where the bottom screen emulator would be.

"Oh no, just use your mic, S/O."

The abrupt text change made them jump. The supposedly "unique" sprite to phoenix's avatar in their game portrayed a gentle look to the side (coincedentlsly staring directly at heir Point of view)

...were they being hacked?

Through an emulator of all things? Using phoenix wright: ace attorney sprites?

No, no...

"You Look worried. Are you alright?"

The air went cold as S/O's hand retreated back from theur pondering, a slow burning whithin not pleasant with the icy air felt as if their emotions were a fever "...You can see through my camera?"

"Of course. Your dressing gown really suits you."

They scrambled to the drawer in their desk with tape in it and tore a piece of paper, quickly sticking it over their laptop's camera.

"What do you want?!" They nearly screamed, but it was hoarse, a whisper.

"Whoa, hey, its alright. I'm no hacker! I wouldn't ever do anything like what you're thinking!"

The sprite took on the iconic shocked expression, as if he had any justification to feel that way.

"Then..." their throat was burning. "What are you, if not a hacker?" Because what or who else could do this? It didn't make sense.

Again, eliminate the impossible whatever remains is only the truth, the very last "normal" case in their playthrough had said.

"Oh, S/O..."

He was looking again. It felt like a reassurance initially when it first came up in 1-3, like things were only going to get better from there, but that sprite seemed to have the opposite effect on that late night.

"You've played enough of the game. You should know."

"The theories in my head are more than impossible right now. You- You're not real. You're just a character."

"Ouch... what about edgeworth and maya?"

"Also characters! What the fuck, just-just explain this already!" They leaned into the computer, slamming their palms down as they took of the paper guard. phoenix -or whatever (...whoever?) That was, shook his head.

"Well, since you've done that... i might aswell state the obvious."

S/O leaned back with a hitched breath and frozen fingertips, awaiting anything but the truth.

"We're all living beings beyond your screen, S/O. Not hackers, nor ghosts. We're alive. And theres a whole world in here."

He was smiling again. S/O was not. Frozen in place, any heat drained from their body led them only to feel the radiation off their laptop.

"I'll keep in touch, hell if I don't-I won't, S/O. I won't."

S/O stayed silent, just taking it all in.

"And hey, maybe one day we could even meet face to face - no more pixels..."

How would that be possible? Something felt wrong just begond the light as the side glancing smile seemed to grow more earnest, but even more so creepy.

"how would that sound? Again, I'll keep in touch. Talk to you later. It's late after all. You really ought to take care of yourself..."

"but I don't mind. I can do it for you if need be."

(Whoops i didnt mean to write this much but uh... heck. I guess i have brainrot. Sorry mod miles /lh i took some of the ideas this au has slowly gathered and just slammed it together.)

I-

🌌Anon this is amazing!!! The way you've taken some of the ideas we've all shared and run on your own to make this is marvellous. I can really feel S/O's fear right here, plus the horror vibe this is giving is beautiful yandere content.

I uh-

Phoenix can take care of me if he wants to 😂😂😂😂😂 also I would be happy for Edgeworth to vie for my attention at any and all times of the day.

Honestly, everything that you anons have sent me is so brilliant and now this has been made from all of the amazing ideas and this is amazing and every single one of you guys are just so amazing.

Am I crying because of the community spirit on this blog? Yes!!!

Do not apologise to me ever for sending in such beautiful writing, I would genuinely pay good money to read this.

[darthnell]

🥺🥺♥️♥️ sorry it took me so long to see this/respond, shits been busy over here 😭 ty for the birthday wishes though !! 💞

Canis Minor C: me when dog motif. And space motif.. his star is very bright!!! Alas..

Oups.. yeah Proxima was always a cold one, though in the appearances shes made in my stuff so far shes much older and her own life isnt at stake so shes Probably calmed down a little bit.. enough to play-fight Oberon for sponsor money at least LOL.

My star nerd boy 🥺🥹 i tried to explain the math stuff/be vague about it for it to make sense but. Thats always the difficulty about having specialized knowledge LOL. It was fun to write though, like Procyon is actually so smart its kind of ridiculous. The shit he did wouldve absolutely gone over my head when i was 16 too LOL. But i hope it at least did the job of making him appear as intelligent as he was ;-; too bad it was wasted in the games…

District 3 sucks ass honestly. Like Ven would’ve never made it past 6th grade JDJDJSJ.. what rly jives w me about D3 is the idea of combining toxic career culture with toxic academia culture and unfortunately the result lends itself naturally to suicide being not uncommon. D2 at least cares a Little more about its trainees. For the most part.

HAHA i have not listened to magnus archives (def heard of it though!) but im glad u liked the vibe c: this whole quell truly is a mockery of family and its so fun to think about ✨🫶 feels only natural for the kid from one of the most fucked up families to win..

ARABELLA 😤😤💪💪 too bad she flopped KDDKD.. its definitelt a common name in D2 like Tyberius, there will probably be another one eventually !! The different types of siblings were fun to come up with.. honestly thats the only thing that i feel like i didnt rly explore to the fullest with this fic/quell twist but. The primary focus here was on procy and prox so ill take that L LOL

Ahah yeah Procyon’s “ahaha dad hits me” joke.. bro did NOT read the room. I think about that scene a lot though (and honestly. I bet Proxima does too. I like to think that haunts her.. just a lil..) Also good question, I did not even touch on family interviews at all in this one (alas Procyon’s post-games moments are. Nonexistent 💀) but it was probably something that the mentors were scrambling with behind the scenes to figure out how to salvage it 😭

Smart+dumb at the same time is just such a good combo JDJDJD my mans knows hes smart academically.. in every other situation though hes just. A lil bit goofy jcjffk. Viridia ;—; aughh i loved her too she was such a fun char to write.. Procyon needed a friend in there so bad ;-;

Re: breaking the arena border, honestly, if i gave him the time and space to think of a solution, he probably could have ;-; but alas he was not meant to…

I love their final fight, i think about it a lot also ;-; They were friends once!!! Kill me!!! HAHAH thats a great comparison.. i rly do love writing siblings its so fun… and different dynamics are soo interesting to me. I do have siblings of my own (we like each other i promise) maybe u can tell jdjdjdk.. i just. Good theme ;-;

Thanks again for reading and leaving your thoughts i appreciate reading them as always !! 🥺♥️♥️ glad u liked my messed up fic ! :D

Brighter Stars Die First

‘As a reminder that the poison of rebellion can turn even brother against brother, sister against sister, tributes will be Reaped in sibling pairs— one male and one female within standard Reaping age.’ Procyon blinks. Sibling pairs. The words swim in his head, over and over, drowning out the screen and everything outside of it alike. He already knows how this will go.

[the-tiniest-one]

Late Night Office Visit: Confessions of the Copy Ninja

Kakashi X Reader

This is my first post so go easy on me. Its just a little fluffy/smut I wrote while thinking about it. Tell me what you think and thank you so much for reading!

***

Your office is tinted in soft warm light from the small lamp by your desk. A candle burning near your desk is scented for the fall season, October is here in the village and it’s starting to get chilly. You had dressed comfortably for work, an over-sized lavender hoody and long black leggings that covered your socked feet with knitted dark grey boots. Your (h/l,h/c) in a messy bun.

It’s no secret that Kakashi is a man of routine.

 His routine had recently begun to include trips to your office. Usually to tease you. You being a night owl, around 1am like clockwork when he was home from missions, he will indulge in a “random and unplanned”, unannounced visit, usually involving some kind of failed attempt at sneaking in and trying his best at scaring you. You expect his shit by now though. 

During his visit both you and he compete to best the other in a battle of “who can make the other blush” during the private office conversations.

“So why are you always working so late” kakashi asked, wandering around the office, picking up a book from the shelf and thumbing it lazily. “Dont you have a boyfriend to go home to?”

The question was bold.

“No”. A short yet devilishly innocent sounding reply from you, while looking at your mound of papers littering your desk, followed by deafening silence.

“What a shame” Kakashi says almost no variation in tone.

The tension is strangling you. 

Feeling a little bit bold as well, you decide to lay the innocent act on as thick as possible 

“I guess it is a shame. It gets so lonely in my little apartment...If only I had someone to come home to... It’s too bad. I bet you probably have lots of company waiting for you to get home and keep them warm.” you reply with a grin.  

Standing and walking over to the large window Kakashi came into the office through, leaning forward to close it, the cool October air giving you a chill.

Turning around, almost in an instant, Kakashi was behind you. Wrapping both hands in your hair with breath taking tenderness. His lips pressing against yours….expressing desperation and need. You had been dreaming of this moment for months, your tongue pushing through his lips first. Both of you searching for security in each others kiss. 

When he pulled back to look at you, you kept your eyes closed for a moment. savoring the first time. 

The first time that you knew, as silly as it sounded....As much as you hated the idea that you could be so deeply invested before his lips ever touched yours....the first time that the man you could feel in your blood was your perfect match...Your soulmate kissed your lips.

When you did finally open your eyes, the worried look carved across his perfect masked features was too clear. “Was that okay?” he asked, clearly worried to hear the answer.

Without verbally responding, you crashed into his lips again. This time wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing your hands through his unruly hair.

Within seconds your back hit the desk gently, his hands wandering under your hoody. His calloused thumbs running over your nipples, causing you to moan quietly into his open mouth.

His lips left yours quickly finding your jawline, just behind your ear, “I have wanted to kiss you from the instant that I first saw you”. he whispered.

You blushed... “six months does feel like a long time” you respond quietly.

He stops kissing for a moment to look at you inquisitively, (your tits still fully engulfed in his large hands). “6 months?” he asks confused.

“Yeah, when we first met?” You reply slightly embarrassed by his exasperated expression. 

He looks at you with even more embarrassment and his soul bared just under the surface of his clear pretty eyes,

 “Oh, well uh...you see, I was talking about the very first time that I first saw you...like ever ...back at the Academy.” Said Kakashi

“What” you said, thinking back....Kakashi, and the other mutual friends you two shared from his graduating class like Guy and Asuma.... were two years above you. You cant remember ever having seen him at the Academy or even when you and your team had grown and gone on countless missions together. You would remember him, you know it. It wasn't as though he wasn't around...He was just such a private guy (and you were a private girl), and he had spent so many years in the special ANBU division or...away from other people in general. 

Even though you’d never met in person until about 6 months ago, you’d heard of the famous copy ninja almost your whole life. His sinister reputation was known throughout the hidden nations.

“How long?” you ask breathless...nervous to hear the answer.

“Hmmm lets see...I guess it would be the day you graduated from the Academy... I was passing by, headed to turn in a mission report when they posted the list.” he replied in a more confident tone.

“I watched you never stop to check it. You already knew you made it. Everyone else clamoring for a look at the list, and I heard you tell another student...”Im going to become a chunin, then a jonin, then Hokage. To protect the person I love someday”. 

Your stomach did somersaults. You remembered the moment he was quoting..... but as hard as you tried to place him, he wasn’t there in your memory of that day.

 Head spinning... you were an early academy graduate, 8 years old when you made genin. You were 27 now….That means Kakashi Hatake has loved you almost your entire life...without you ever having met you. 

You forced him back down onto your lips while simultaneously unzipping his flack jacket. Then pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his perfect torso.

He undressed you however, much more slow and methodically, only a bra under your hoody, quickly unclasping it and throwing it to the side. Then your leggings, finally while kissing down your neck to your breasts, he pulled your panties off and put them in his pocket.

His mouth making slow circles around your nipples. You noticed how wet you were when his right hand slid from your tits to your hip, then to your slit...he giggled as he quickly fingered and teased the outside of your soaked pussy.

“Please kashi” you gasped, maybe louder than you wanted for the office building you were currently being ravaged in.

His slow kisses moved down to your panty line. Lips dancing along your skin in perfect rhythm with his hands teasing you. 

“Please what?” he asked with an almost stern inflection

At first you didnt reply, only writhing under him.

But the shock of a slap on your inner thigh made you almost scream with desire.

“Please what” he asked again while resuming the kisses to your belly.

Please let me cum you said, almost at a whisper.

Just like that his mouth was on you. Licking your clit at first, an eternity of teasing you nearly to tears. Then he started sucking you with a ferocity that bordered on desperation.

You were a mess. You couldn’t even begin to form coherent thoughts when you felt his tip graze your pussy lips.

“You looked into his eyes, and he waited for confirmation.”

The second you nodded he began. Slowly dipping in and out, first the tip, then slowly incorporating more of himself. Making sure you were comfortably adjusted before adding another half inch or so. The care in which he conducted himself was nothing short of impressive...however it was driving you insane. You needed to be fucked. You wrapped your legs around him, forcing him as deep as he would go, catching him off guard...if only due to his extreme focus on your perfect pussy.

He gasped at the sudden tight warmth around his cock, looking up at you as you rocked your hips to help him along.

It didnt take more than a minute at most before you laced your hand into his…

“Im so close, kashi...can I please cum?”

Surprised and fully turned on by the request, his thumb hit your clit, fast circles helping you along.

“Cum on my cock (y/n). I want your pretty pussy to cum for me”

And like that you snapped, quivering and writhing on your desk while he followed almost immediately, soaking your insides with his hot seed.

You laid motionless, gasping for air and seeing stars….

He kissed your nipples again, still inside you,  making you jump from the overstimulation.

Finally resting on your chest while your hands wandered through his hair.

“I wanted to do that for an eternity” he said still catching his breath.

“Well I let me grant that wish” you say with a giggle. “An eternity it is”.

[myelocin]

tomato sauce for hello, and mornings for i love you

synopsis: “you are the who, love is the what, and this is the why.”

genre: fluff | wc: 2,300+

characters: konoha akinori

this is why i need you | jesse ruben

a/n: HALLOW??? HALLOWWW?????? @gg9183 MY ANGEL MY LOVE HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO U we will ignore the fact that i am late i meant to post this yst but my laptop updated and i didnt save a fat chunk of this LOL. (speech aside) i love you. konoha loves u. i’m in this corner of the world blowing a candle for u and cheering u on always. happy birthday my best girl <3

-

It’s a good day to love you today.

Konoha’s up by seven, then at the grocery store by seven forty-five. A quick breakfast in the car: just a bottle of orange juice and a bag of chips that he just knows you’ll scold him for.

Pick up the balloons after heading to the bakery, then finding a way to somehow sneak all of what he has prepared in the house before you wake up. He smiles, delighting in the thought of another year with you.

Three birthdays together, a little apartment situated close to the city, and a multitude of inside jokes that would piss off Bokuto on the days he feels excluded. You snicker with him when he whispers his commentary towards you in the theaters, and he’ll do the same when you critique how the popcorn tastes that day.

There’s a lot of unknowns that balance what keeps the joy afloat, he thinks. He doesn’t know what to say when calling the doctor for his yearly checkup, and he doesn’t know how to counter the what-if scenarios the two of you usually talk about.

Sitting in his car, he chuckles. The rush hour of the morning borders unforgivable today, and while he could have sat still in his car, grumbling about the inconvenience, he settles for huffing towards it instead—defining factors like that as one of the inevitables in life.

So he thinks of you.

He left the house a little before sunrise, with you still asleep in bed. On the left side, wrapped in 75% of the blankets, with the plush cradled in between your arms. Some days he regrets winning that for you. While you said the expression on the hamster’s face mirrors his when he’s coming home from a rough day at work, it’s also the same plush that’s usually sandwiched in-between the two of you every time he tries to hold you at night.

Some days it’s like that, but today, he’s thankful it’s there to keep you company while he’s out here.

He’s always heard about the things people do for love, and while in the beginning he was never one to believe in its influence, as he catches a glimpse of himself on the rearview mirror, he laughs. There’s at least ten paper bags from the grocery store—all of which are meant just for breakfast, and a box with the god-awful hot pink wrapping paper he couldn’t have changed at the very last minute.

It’ll have to make do, he supposes. Slip ups happen sometimes, and in love, perfection is only a far-fetched dream.

In youth, love is make believe. Love is the ice cream truck that passed by his street every afternoon, and the coins his mother would leave out on the kitchen table for him just enough to treat himself. Love is the stories and the idea that he’d find a hand to hold and squeeze tight, even if all the boys in class would roll their eyes and stay away from the cooties.

Love is good.

Then as it stays good, love becomes great.

He learns of that the second he turned twenty and met you on aisle three of the grocery store at 2 in the morning. Pyjama bottoms, hair in a bun, and you’re squinting at the labels—trying to decide whether to get chocolate or vanilla for the frosting.

He said his hello then, because love at that time was also the three second push that came into his life as a show of brevity.

Konoha eases off the brakes, letting the car roll for a good couple of meters before slowly coming into a stop again—the traffic still present.

With a sigh, he resorts to tapping on the steering wheel and reliving through the memories again. He had no game then, he realizes. He approached you with half of the pickup line he plucked from reddit jumbled up as he said it, and he had a tomato sauce stain on his shirt.

Now that he thinks about it, he looked a little sleazy.

But the world has its ways of redefining what it means to be perfect, he supposes. What happened after was you turned your head, two tubs of frosting on either of your hands, and a smile already cracking its way through the prior confusion on your face.

And shit, he remembers, that’s all it took for him to realize that perhaps this is what they mean about the great that comes with the redefinition of love.

From then, you became a fixture of his every day. Three years since tomato sauce stains and your icing dilemma, he still learns more and more about you, finding home and falling in love as the days go by.

So today is a good day to love you.

Your third birthday you’re celebrating with him, and he’s in his car crawling his way through the traffic with a jar of tomato sauce and two kinds of canned icing in the paperbags in the back seat just to commemorate the first hello.

Tapping his finger against the steering wheel, he smiles. There’s a comfort in knowing that you’re headed home. Back to you, back to love.

He hopes that god awful plush is keeping you warm, Konoha thinks with a smile. Then with a laugh, he steps his foot off the brakes again, the world letting what’s there flow as motion comes once more and eases him into the road that brings him closer to you.

-

An hour later, he’s trudging up the stairs.

To be fair, in the parking lot he did try to think of at least a speech to present to you. Perhaps the classic ‘I love you, babe. Happy birthday,’ followed by a suave look, a bouquet of flowers, and breakfast in bed. He smirks, knowing even though blunt sentimentality has never been you nor his’ style when it comes to communication, you always had a soft spot for the moments where he did remind you that his love will always have the intention to stay.

Staring infront of the door, all it takes to put himself together is a deep breath, an honest smile, and just like that, he’s good to go.

Cake in hand and the strings to the balloon pinched in between his fingers, he nudges the door open, trying to be quiet as he cranes his neck and listens for noise inside the house. Delighting in the silence, he makes his way in, careful so he doesn’t disturb the peace.

Mornings have always been easy with you.

You wake up around the same time as he does, and breakfast is always shared at a table for two. Easy conversation, sleepy smiles, and little chuckles sprinkled before the beginning of the day is kickstarted.

Konoha smiles. There’s a cake with a smiley face iced in the center and a bouquet with all your favorite blooms in tow. A whole lot of love is the product of the bits built one on top of the other from the everyday that remains his—though it’s as much as yours too.

There’s love found in home, three years shown within, and the subtle promise of a lifetime in the presence that stays.

“You know,” a voice jolts him. Konoha, wide eyed, turns towards the kitchen, quickly spotting you.

You’re sat in your usual spot by the window, a bowl of cereal in front of you, and his hoodie wrapped around your frame. You smirk at him, spoon in hand, eyes to him. “If you’re going to surprise me, you could have probably pulled it off if you didn’t have a whole concert in the shower.”

His tongue pokes his cheek, the red on his face displayed in full colors because of how bright the morning is. “Last night you said you were sleeping in, so I figured you’d be knocked the fuck out till 10 or something.”

“That was the plan,” you laugh, shifting your eyes back down to your breakfast and scooping up a bite.

You hear a huff, then when you turn to him, you smile again. Konoha’s standing a little awkwardly in the middle of the living room now. His Donald Duck house slippers on, and his socks aren’t even matching. On top of the paper bags on the table, he’s still trying his hand at balancing the cake, bouquet, and strings from the balloon in his hand.

He’s looking at anywhere but towards you.

Laughing softly under your breath, you throw him a lifeline. “Want me to turn around and have you clean up your entrance so that I can pretend to be surprised when you say happy birthday?”

When you look back up, he’s already made it halfway across the living room, just now stepping into the kitchen to plop down on the seat in front of you. Puffing his cheeks, he sets the boxes down on the clear end of the table and leans forward. Meeting him halfway, you smile as he presses a quick kiss on your temple.

In laughter, he eases into love. “Happy birthday,” he smiles.

Smiling along with him, you hold out the spoonful you meant to give to yourself in offering towards him. “Morning.”

Even though he’s a little disappointed he couldn’t pull off the surprise, the smile on his face is still cheeky when he faces you. Mornings are easy, he thinks again, because love is.

“I can still cook for you,” he offers, taking the fork from your hand and reaching in the bowl to pick at the bits of fruit instead of the actual cereal.

You quirk a brow in his direction. “By that do you mean you’ll just plate the takeout you got and hide the boxes so you can tell me you cooked for me?”

“Will that impress you?” Konoha laughs, the smile on his face easy.

“Depends,” you shrug. “What kinda takeout did you get?” Peering into the boxes he tries to shield with his body, he eventually moves away with a laugh when you swat him on the shoulder and poke him to the side. “Was anything even open this early?”

He points the fork with the slice of strawberry in your direction, his face smug. “I ordered in advance.”

Narrowing your eyes, you lean forward and take a bite, laughing when he gives you a look for biting the piece you don’t doubt he’s been eyeing for a while now.

You snort, recalling the memory of him hunched over the desk the other night, shooing you away everytime you’d enter the room. “Tell me you didn’t bother that poor auntie at 11 in the evening just for this?”

He looks away, eyes closed. “I’m a resourceful man.”

“She’s in her sixties and 11 is probably three hours past her bedtime!” you laugh.

Konoha looks at you anyway, smiling. “But are you happy I got you your pastries?”

Eyeing the box, it doesn’t take much for love to resettle into peace again, your joy quickly mirroring his. “You drove all the way there for me?”

“Always for you,” he responds, like it’s the most obvious thing.

You reach forward and pinch his cheek, finding love in the silly bits of him too. “But you always complain about how annoying it is to drive this early in the morning. I know rush hour’s a bitch,” you try to reason.

He shakes his head. “I know. But it’s your day.”

“You drove there last week too when I was craving,” you mutter. Konoha crosses his arms one over the other, and leans his head against it down on the table. Looking through his lashes and up at you, he beams. “That’s because I love you.”

Poking through a bigger piece of fruit from your bowl, you bring the fork towards him, until it’s just barely poking at his lips. “You know, you’re really sweet when you’re decided.”

Accepting the strawberry, Konoha suppresses a chuckle. “I’m always decided when it comes to you, what do you mean?”

Shrugging, you sift through the contents of your bowl, looking for more slices of fruit. You’ll add more next time, you note in the back of your mind. He smiled more when he ate the strawberries instead of the initial blueberry.

“I also got tomato sauce and icing,” he admits, tilting his head to the paper bags still on the coffee table in the living room. “To commemorate hello.”

“So you’re a poet now, I see,” you tease.

“I can be a lot of things in this life.”

You tilt your head. “Like?”

“I’ll tell you once I think about more things that impress you the most.”

You smile. “Just be Akinori.”

He smiles again, love written along the peace in his expression. “Deal.”

“It’s nice to be loved,” you tell him, eyeing the bouquet with the blooms and the cake with the smiley face peeking through the window of the box.

“Because I love you, that’s why,” he replies.

Morning is easy.

A table for two, light conversation, and a history lived and loved even though silence tends to resettle in the room from time to time. Memory relished through love and the flow of the day nurturing enough for him to delight in the moment and feel at ease because this is the kind of love that’s meant to stay kind for a lifetime.

“Happy birthday,” he smiles, and when you look at him, he thanks his lucky stars for that three second rush of brevity that pushed him to begin love with a hello.

 -

ily always <3