#i'm not here to tell you you're not allowed

[woso-dreamzzz]

Foxes III

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: You don't like touch

Spain loses to Japan.

A four nil defeat that leaves everyone a bit depressed.

Football's a boring game to you so you didn't really watch it despite sitting on the bench. Football is Mami's whole life though. You know that and you know this defeat will make her feel a bit sad.

You think that's kind of stupid because it's just a game but maybe it's different when you play a game as an adult. You don't know why it would be different but you decide that it must be because the whole team seems a little depressed about it.

"It's like when you lose a fox toy," Tia Ale says to you on the ride back to the hotel.

"I don't lose my toys," You reply, staring out the window.

"Well, if you did-"

"But I don't."

"What about when you left Roja at home?" Alexia says," Your Mami said you were sad about that. This feels like that to everyone else."

You were very sad when that happened. You missed Roja like crazy for ages after you first moved to Mexico. That must be how everyone is feeling now.

You head bobs up and down in agreement. "Okay."

You don't ask anymore questions on the ride home and Mami takes you straight up to your room for bath time. She wraps you in a nice fluffy towel before helping you into your pyjamas.

Dinner will be soon though so she throws a jumper on top of your pyjamas to keep them clean so you can go straight to bed after you've eaten.

Your hand closes around one of your foxes before leaving the room.

The girls are still a little sad, even you can tell that and you're not very good at working out what other people's feelings are.

You're the only one that's enjoying dinner which is seriously saying a lot because the food here is weird and you're very picky with what you're eating.

"Mami," You say," You still sad?"

Jenni's a little shocked at being addressed so openly. You don't like doing that in public. You're fairly silent around other people. She frowns.

"A little, osita," She says," Why? Are you feeling sad too?"

"I'm not sad," You reply. Your fork scrapes the plate wrong and you cringe, a whole body shudder going through you as you set down your cutlery.

Slowly, you shift in your chair before standing to approach Jenni.

Like your speaking, you're not big on touch either, at least in public. Jenni's used to you hanging out by her legs at home because she always wears the softest trousers and you like touching them but skin on skin had never been a big desire or need of yours.

Jenni has a hard enough time getting you to accept affection at home. She's already ruled out touching in public apart from hand holding and that was only because the alternative was a leash and you felt that was too restricting and made you breath funny.

But you curl into her lap now and give her a quick squeeze that bore some semblance of a hug. Jenni's too shocked to hug you back, jaw slack as you slip off her lap.

You go to Tia Ale next, clambering up into her seat with her and giving her a quick hug that's so fast that she doesn't realise what's happening until it's over.

Irene is next and, after seeing Jenni and Alexia go through it, she's fully prepared. But the moment her arms curl around to hug you back, you're wiggling away and already on your way.

Just because you're giving out hugs doesn't mean you need to be hugged back.

Codi's after Irene and then Mario, who both know now to allow their arms to go limp when you hug them. You go through all the Barcelona girls you know before coming straight back to Jenni.

You tug on her hand and she very gently takes yours in hers. She's slow and careful just in case you want to pull away but you let her hold your hand.

"Mami," You say.

"Yes, Osita?"

"With me...please."

Jenni stands and you lead her over to the girls in the team you've missed out, the ones that you don't know as well as the Barcelona girls. You drop Jenni's hand to hug each girl before squeezing Jenni's hand the moment you can hold it again, you other hand coming up to run your fingers over her comfortable trousers.

"That was a very nice thing you did at dinner," Jenni tells you as she tucks you into bed that night.

"Yes. Tia Ale said so," You reply, getting all snuggly and comfortable with a fox under each arm.

"Tia Ale is right," Jenni says," Your cuddles really cheered everyone up."

"Not sad anymore?" You check and Jenni nods.

"No one's sad anymore."

"Good."

Jenni presses a soft kiss to your forehead and pulls your covers all the way up. "Night, Osita. I love you."

"Love you too."

[ploshansky]

i've always found it particularly insulting when people insist that i'll have kids one day because i've always been pretty quick to divulge that childbirth is literally my greatest fear. i'm scared of the process, the mental and physical toll, the pain, the very real possibility of complications, the kid itself. like i've had nightmares where i wake up sobbing because either i had kids and i didn't want them, or i was pregnant and i didn't want to be. when people egg on the idea of me having kids it feels like they're telling me "mark my words you're going to be the first one buried alive" or "oh she's sooo going to have both her hands sawed off one day." normally i got the whole "well it's different when it's your kid," or of course, "you'll change your mind." okay, sure. stranger things have happened. allow me to present another angle: i know in my heart of hearts that i am not willing to be a parent.

i have very little patience. i hold grudges. i am very self-involved. i am somehow both flighty and steadfast in my ways. i can barely handle my own body and mind, let alone worry about a child's mental and physical state. i'll be the first person to say that moms are superheroes and i will forever kiss the ground that they walk on, but i'm not interested in making the sacrifices my mother made just for me to be a snotty teenager in return. "but you're so good with kids!" yeah, because i'm just playing with them. i'm not making sure they eat, cleaning their poop and boogers and vomit, paying for doctor's visits, etc. none of that matters though. i could be patient, forgiving, selfless, go-with-the-flow, organized, mentally stable, etc. the important thing here is that i don't want to. that should negate every single motherly quality that i do or don't possess.

for some reason this explanation (that i thought was actually pretty solid, but silly me) is always taken as a sort of bashful "o how nice it would be to partake in motherhood..... alas, i am simply unfit......." spiel where i paint motherhood as this far-off concept that i could only wish to participate in. usually i'm met with "nooo don't say that you would make an amazing mother!" but i'm literally telling you outright: not only would i be an awful parent, i have no interest in being one, and i certainly wouldn't want to put a child in the position of having a parent that's not 101% committed to the job. i get that moms make a lot of sacrifices, and if push came to shove, yeah i'd probably bite the bullet and make those sacrifices. but i would harbor resentment, and that doesn't do any good for either of us. i don't want a kid mainly because it scares me, but it would be so fucking unfair to a kid to have me as a mother.

and re: the whole "what if your husband wants kids?" thing–i do not want to be in a relationship where a baby is the only thing holding us together, much less the concept of a baby.

stop telling your teenage daughters who say they don't want kids that they'll change their mind

[loulovingho]

tags: violence (gay bashing), homophobic slurs, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, healing, heading toward getting back together, happy-enough ending

(ao3 link or read below)

Like Fine China

“Hey, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? You hear me? Try to keep your eyes open.”

He recognized that voice. The last time he'd heard it was just a few weeks ago, at the hospital. Who was it for though? Why was he at the hospital that time?

His brain felt like a jumbled mess. His body felt even worse.

He just wanted to sleep.

“Tommy! Tommy, can you hear me?”

Athena! That's who was speaking to him.

He opened his mouth, cracked one eye open. God, it hurt!

“I- I'm,” the words felt foreign as they escaped him. His voice didn't sound like his own. His mouth was dry, and held a bad taste.

Whiskey and... and metal.

Blood.

“Tommy, paramedics are on their way, okay? I just need you to stay with me until they get here.”

It was dark, but something was shining bright in his face.

“Flash... Flashlight,” he managed to get out, squeezing his eye back shut.

“Eyes- Eye open, Tommy. I'll get the flashlight out of your face, but I need to know you're with me.”

Wait. Had she said paramedics? They couldn't. He couldn't let them- let him see.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled out, shaking his head a couple times until a sharp pain shot through it. “No, h- he can't. I don't-”

“They're not on shift, Tommy.”

He tried to push himself up, away from where she hovered over him. He didn't manage to get very far before she placed a hand on his chest.

“Tommy, you cannot get up. I need you to stay still, and stay conscious. Those two things are your only jobs. You hear me?”

“I can't,” his words were so garbled. He coughed up the blood that'd been dripping down his throat.

I can't let him see.”

“Listen to me, Tommy!” Athena exclaimed, getting right in Tommy's face. He could barely see her, but he could feel her breath on his face. “They're not coming. Buck isn't coming; it'll be someone else.”

In the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. He didn't feel relief. Didn't feel much of anything at all. He was fading, fast. It took all his energy to force out one last sentence before he lost consciousness. “Don't... Don't tell him.”

*****

He just wanted to go out for a drink. Something a little stronger than craft beer.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Evan- no, Buck. He was Buck now.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Buck and the ache in his chest felt the same way it did the second he walked out of the loft.

He'd thought he was saving himself from future heartbreak, and maybe he was, but it didn't quite make it hurt any less.

Georgie's wasn't exactly a gay bar, but Georgie was gay and the bar itself became a sort of unofficial hang out for older people in the lgbtq+ community. No loud music and everyone left each other alone. A perfect place to decompress while still allowing yourself to be free.

After a couple of whiskey sours, and yeah, a pitcher of craft beer, Tommy was ready to go.

He waited outside, near the alleyway, for his Uber. He found himself going to his messages, hovering over Evan's name. He hadn't had the heart to change it to Buck yet.

He'd been wanting to text him since the breakup. Talk about it some more. Actually give a reason for why it- why he- fell apart so fast. How Buck's words triggered some terrible memories for him. How he suddenly realized there was no way he could be everything he thought Buck needed. Everything Buck deserved. Not to mention they hadn't even exchanged I love you's. And it was insane to think all of Tommy's things could fit in Buck's loft. Buck's things could fit in his house so much easier!

He clicked on Evan's name, started to type something out, erased it, started again, erased it again.

He was usually so aware of his surroundings. His time in the military did that to him. It did a lot of things to him actually, many of which he wasn't very thankful for. However, he prided himself on not being oblivious.

Tonight he was oblivious.

He didn't expect five men to jump him at once. He was a strong guy. Had taken on three men about fifteen years earlier. Did it with ease too.

But not five men. Not when one had a bat, and one had brass knuckles, and one was at least 6'5 and three hundred pounds. Not when they dragged him to the ground and into the alley before he had a chance to react. Screaming slurs at him as they took turns using his body as a punching bag.

He tried to fight. At one point, he was sure he kicked one of the guy's in the face. Heard him yell something like, “The fag broke my tooth!”

It only made things worse.

He wasn't sure when he first lost consciousness, but he knew they were still on top of him. Still laughing as they hit and kicked. He heard the sounds of someone spitting at some point. Felt wet on his face.

Then there was nothing.

Until someone stepped out from somewhere, and maybe they heard him groan? Maybe it was his Uber driver wondering where he was? Maybe it was an employee taking out the trash? He wasn't sure. He could barely hear someone telling him they were calling the police. There was a ringing in his ears, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. Someone said something about wheezing, barely breathing. He wondered what that was about.

Then there was Athena. Then nothing again.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a dimly lit hospital room. He was confused. Could barely see out of one eye and everything was blurry out of the other.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and maybe some tiny humans hitting his brain with hammers.

“Are you... awake awake or not really awake?”

The sound of a man's voice startled him. He couldn't hardly move, but he was able to focus his eyes across the room at the figure in the corner.

“Ed- Eddie?”

God, his voice sounded weird. Why did it sound like that? Like he'd spent the last 30 years smoking a pack a day.

“Yeah, I'm here.”

He sounded hesitant. Maybe they'd had this conversation before? If they had, Tommy certainly didn't remember it.

“Wha- Why?”

Eddie stepped closer. “You're in the hospital, Man.”

Tommy wanted to roll his eyes. No duh.

He settled for clearing his throat, which turned into a burning sensation running down his chest. “Why're you... here?” he tried. Hoped Eddie understood that much.

“Tommy-”

“I t- told Athena-” he had to pause to take a breath. “Told her not to tell.”

“Actually, you told Athena not to tell him. And she assumed, correctly, I'm sure, that him was Buck. So she called me instead.”

Tommy closed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why'd she call me? Oh, maybe because you don't have anyone listed as an emergency contact and you were nearly beat to death so she figured you might need someone to be here when you woke up.”

Tommy's jaw clenched at Eddie's harsh words.

Nearly beat to death.

He was nearly beat to death.

Eddie either noticed Tommy's heart rate going up on the monitor, or his eyes filling with tears, because he was right beside his bed in two strides. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I- I'm kinda pissed, Man.”

“S'okay,” Tommy replied, swallowing hard. “I deserve it.”

Eddie looked taken aback. “No, I'm not- Tommy, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at this,” he said, gesturing over Tommy's body. “I've never seen...” Eddie's voice trailed off and, through Tommy's own blurry vision, he could see that Eddie was close to crying.

“What'd they do to me?” Tommy asked, barely able to take in all his injuries. His entire body hurt, no part any worse or less than the other. He could feel something on every limb, but he couldn't quite move his head around enough to see what it was.

Eddie took a deep breath. He wiped at his eyes with his fingers, sniffling before getting started. “You've got bruising on about seventy-five percent of your body. You had surgery for a busted kneecap on your right knee. Your left arm has a fracture, and your right one has thirty stitches, I think. They broke a few ribs, so it's gonna hurt like hell when you take a deep breath or cough. Um, you had some internal bleeding, but they got that under control pretty fast. You've got a fracture in your cheek, which may cause some extra pain when you talk. You've got a few broken fingers too, and lost a couple fingernails during your- when you were defending yourself.”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed once Eddie was done. “S'that all?”

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I'm sure I missed a couple things, actually, jackass.”

Tommy let out a laugh, which quickly turned into a groan. “Thanks for coming, Eddie,” he said, trying and failing at moving himself into a slightly more comfortable position. “You don't have to stay though. I'll be fine.”

Eddie stared at him incredulously. “You're kidding me.”

Tommy shifted his eyes back in Eddie's direction. “No, I- I'll be okay. I've got it. Just,” he paused to take a breath, “don't let Buck know, please.”

Eddie raised a finger toward Tommy. “Well, see, about that. You only told Athena not to tell him before, and-”

“You didn't.”

“-and see he was already at my place when I got the call, so-”

“Please tell me you didn't.”

“I have one with cream and one with sugar and- Oh my God, you're awake!” The sound of Buck's voice had Tommy's head twisting toward the door so quickly that a pain shot from the bottom of his back all the way to the top of his head. “Ow!” he yelped, clenching his teeth and tossing his head against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh my God. Has the nurse come in yet? Have they checked his vitals? Eddie, you said he'd be out for a while! Tommy, do you feel any nausea? Do you remember who we are? The nurses said you might have-”

“Buck!” Eddie exclaimed. “Stop. He's okay.” He glanced over at Tommy, “I did forget to mention the head trauma.”

Tommy groaned, giving him a glare.

Eddie walked over to Buck and took the drink carrier from his hands. “I'll go find a nurse, you stay with him.”

Tommy wanted to yell out to Eddie to please not go, and also screw you, and maybe throw a couple hand gestures in there too. He stayed silent instead.

Buck looked Tommy up and down, hesitating slightly before walking up to the side of the bed. “So, you're-”

“I want to see myself,” Tommy blurted.

“Oh, um, I... Tommy, I don't. It might be better to wait.”

Tommy managed to move his head enough to look up at Buck. He could see the fear- no, the panic- in Buck's eyes.

“I wanna see," he repeated.

“Tommy-”

“Buck!” It took a lot of strength to get his name out so forcefully, and he didn't quite mean it to sound as angry as it did, but this wasn't Buck's decision. It was his. And he wanted to see what he looked like.

Buck pulled his phone from his back pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled up the camera.

Slowly, he lifted the phone up to Tommy's face.

The second it registered that he was looking at himself, Tommy sucked in a breath. He grimaced as pain radiated through his chest but, when Buck went to move the camera away he stopped him. “No,” he said. “Just. Just wait.”

He knew his eyes were swollen by how out of focus his vision was, but he had no idea just how bad they looked. The right was worse than the left, but both were an angry mixture of black, purple, and green. The bruise on the left side of his face ran down his cheek to his jaw, circling underneath his chin like a half moon and fading into his facial hair. There were marks on his neck. Looked like someone's hand. He could understand Eddie's hesitancy on mentioning that. He didn't remember anyone gripping him there, which was probably for the best.

His forehead had more bruises, and cuts too. There was dried blood at his hairline, some stitched up cuts. His curly hair was nearly matted to his head, his scalp a brutal crimson.

“I tried to wash the blood out of your hair with a washcloth,” Buck explained anxiously, “but you have some lacerations on your scalp and I didn't want to bother them until they healed a little more.”

It was all so overwhelming. There was a whirring sound in his ears that made him feel dizzy. His eyes burned as they filled with tears that he didn't have the strength to wipe away.

“Okay,” he said, his voice uneven. He cleared his throat. “Can you- You can go, please. I don't... You can go.”

“Tommy-”

“Ev- Buck, I'm awake, I'm fine, I don't need anyone here.” He stared straight ahead, unable to look Buck in the eyes. “Please.”

“No.”

Tommy really didn't feel like dealing with stubborn Evan right now. “I don't-”

“I don't really care, Tommy. I'm not leaving you here. I've been at this damn hospital for three days now and I'm staying until you go home. I don't care what-”

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Got the nurse,” Eddie said, an awkward smile on his face. The nurse, to her credit, ignored all the tension in the room.

“Let me get some hand sanitizer and gloves and I'll be right with you, Mr. Kinard.”

Buck sighed. He stepped even closer to Tommy. “I'm gonna go into the hall long enough for the nurse to check you out,” he said, maneuvering himself until he was halfway leaning over the bed, his arm on the other side of Tommy to prop himself up as he forced him to make eye contact. “I will be back in a few minutes. You have people who care about you, Tommy, whether you like it or not.”

With that said, Buck stood back up and left the room.

*****

Tommy spent a few more days in the hospital before he was released. There were only two times that Buck left long enough to get a shower and get a little rest in a real bed. Both of those times, he made sure Eddie was there the entire time.

Athena had come in to get his statement. Asked him all sorts of questions, most of which Tommy couldn't answer. He hadn't really gotten a good look at them. Only had very basic descriptions. He remembered the slurs they had hurled at him, knew they attacked because he was gay. He couldn't really figure out how they knew though. Besides being outside of that bar, it wasn't like Tommy ever did anything that screamed gay. Not that it mattered.

She'd been honest with him. There were no cameras at that part of the street, or in the alleyway. No one got a good description of the attackers, and the person who called the police only saw their shadows as they disappeared into the night. She'd do everything she could, but it wasn't likely they'd find these men. At least, not until they did this again.

Bobby stopped by once with some homemade chicken noodle soup. Buck had to feed him every bite, which made Tommy feel like he was about to cry the entire time, but he managed half a bowl before he had to stop. It was a million times better than anything the hospital had been feeding him, and he was glad to know Bobby had put some in his freezer to give Tommy when he got home.

Chim and Maddie came one evening. He'd been asleep when they got there, woke up some time during their visit, but he kept his eyes shut until they left.

Honestly, every time someone walked through the doors he felt more and more like running out of the hospital and finding a hole to fall into. Then, if he were lucky, someone would just shovel some dirt over him and let him rest.

These weren't his people. They were Buck's people. They didn't need to be there for him. They needed to hate him. They needed to laugh at his bruises and tell him he deserved every last one. They needed to yell at him for breaking Buck's heart to try and save his own.

That'd be a lot easier than this.

Thankfully, Hen and Karen didn't come by. They did send flowers though, and a card that explained both kids had strep throat and they didn't want to risk bringing that to the hospital. They'd come by Tommy's place once he was home.

He and Buck didn't talk about anything that needed to be talked about. All the unsent messages that had swirled through Tommy's mind didn't matter right now. It was like an unspoken rule between the two of them. Right now was not the time to try and fix whatever happened between them. Right now was about Tommy healing.

*****

As soon as they got Tommy home, Buck left Eddie with him so he could go to the pharmacy and pick up his medications. When he got back, Eddie headed out to go home and rest, promising to come back later with a variety of foods that would be easy on Tommy to eat.

The silence felt more... silent at Tommy's house. It was different now that they were at home instead of a hospital with people coming in and out at all times.

Tommy needed to do something, say something, to break the silence.

“I wasn't on a date,” he muttered out as Buck organized his pain meds on his nightstand.

Buck paused briefly before getting right back to it. “Didn't think you were.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay. I just, I don't know, didn't want you to think that.”

“You go to Georgie's when your brain is working overtime and you need it to quiet down.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't know I ever told you that.”

“You didn't,” Buck replied, handing Tommy his pills and a glass of water. “I just know you.”

Tommy swallowed the pills, wincing slightly. His throat still felt scratchy even a week later. “I don't know how they knew,” he said as Buck took the water from him and set it on his nightstand.

“Who knew what?”

“Those guys that-” he stopped. “I don't know how they knew I was gay.”

“A lot of queer people hang out at Georgie's,” Buck answered. “They probably took a guess.”

The thought of it made Tommy's stomach lurch. “I've spent most of my life trying to make sure people couldn't guess.”

Buck watched him for a moment quizzically. “Tommy, you're not... You don't blame yourself for this, do you? You know this wasn't your fault, right?”

Tommy avoided eye contact with Buck. He felt so small right now. “I know I didn't do anything to provoke them.”

“That doesn't really answer my question.”

“I just... I don't know what I could have done differently. I know I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. I... I should probably go to a different bar, maybe. I don't know.”

“You can't be serious right now.”

“This is everything I feared my entire life, Buck,” Tommy admitted and, God, he wished he could shut up right now. The pain pills were starting to make him a little loose lipped, mixed with him truly being alone with Buck for the first time since they broke up, mixed with an undeniable fear every time he thought about that night, seemed to make it impossible to close his mouth. “I did everything to make sure nothing like this would ever happen to me and it still did. I keep thinking about it and wondering how it could have been different. How I could have been different.”

“Tommy, can you look at me?”

Slowly, Tommy looked up at Buck, his eyes shining with tears.

“This was not your fault. There's nothing you could or should have done differently. You cannot let those five men shove you back into a closet.”

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “They're not. It's just... a lot right now.”

“I get that, I- I do. You look tired. Why don't you rest for a bit, okay? I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Buck, you don't-”

“If you tell me I don't need to stay I will force feed you bone broth when you wake up.”

Tommy shivered. “Ugh! I hate bone broth.”

“I know you do.” Buck gently pulled a pillow out from under Tommy, allowing him to lie back easier. “Close your eyes, get some rest. I'm here when you need me.”

*****

They were bound to fight sometime. Tommy had honestly expected it to happen sooner. Buck had been staying with him for three weeks now, only gone when he was working a shift. Bobby had let him work part time for now, with Carla caring for him when Buck was gone.

They'd managed to get past the initial awkwardness. Buck rambled about any and every subject he could think of. They'd watch movies together on the couch, with Tommy falling asleep halfway through due to his pain meds.

Buck would get Tommy tucked in bed, then set himself up on Tommy's floor in case he was needed during the night. Tommy had tried to insist he use the spare room, but Buck wouldn't hear of it. He knew Tommy wouldn't call for him if he needed him through the night.

Then Tommy tried to suggest he sleep in the bed. But that was a no go because, “I kick, Tommy, you know this. Do you really want another knee surgery?”

They'd been focused on Tommy getting better. And they'd been ignoring the many, many elephants in the room.

So, a fight was expected.

What wasn't expected was for the fight to start because Tommy needed to pee.

Buck had seemed a bit more on edge today, but Tommy chalked that up to a shift that ran longer than expected.

Tommy had grabbed his crutches, which he'd just been able to start using to go short distances. He still didn't quite trust himself to use them at night, but he was working toward relying on them more and relying on people less.

When he stood, Buck immediately stood with him.

“I'm fine, Buck. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

“I'll help you there.”

“I'm really fine. I can get there by myself.”

Tommy was sure he had kept his tone neutral. He definitely didn't want an argument tonight. But, before he could even make it two steps, he heard Buck scoff. “Not surprised.”

And maybe it was the full bladder making him extra bitchy, but Tommy couldn't help turning around and asking, “What's that mean?”

Buck shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

“Obviously it's not nothing. If it were nothing you wouldn't have said anything in the first place. What doesn't surprise you?”

“Just you, ya know, pushing people away. It's what you do.”

“Ha!” Tommy laughed out. “If I'm pushing people away then I really suck at it because you haven't left my house in three weeks. I just need to pee.”

“I'm not talking about right now. I'm talking about me telling you that I loved you and you breaking up with me.”

How in the hell did they end up here?

“You didn't tell me you loved me, Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, unbelievably confused. The sudden change in tone caused Buck to take a step back.

He was only thrown off for a second, quick with a retort. “Of course I did!”

“No, you absolutely did not! You asked me to move in with you, but you did not tell me you loved me.”

“Wait. You asked him to move in with you?” Eddie's voice had them glaring in his direction. Both had forgotten he was even there in the first place. He raised his hands. “Sorry.”

“Well, I- it was obviously implied,” Buck argued. “I wouldn't have asked you to move in if I didn't love you.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?! You were making it sound like I was some gay hero that sewed the first pride flag! I don't even go to pride events, Evan! All the colors are far too bright and the glitter never leaves you.”

“Glitter is really annoying,” Eddie agreed.

Tommy pointed a crutch at him. “Thank you.”

“I was not trying to make you out to be some gay hero, Tommy! I was telling you that I was comfortable with you. I was telling you I wanted to spend all my time with you. I wanted us to be together!”

“You didn't even think it through, Evan!” Tommy motioned around the room. “I own a home. It comes with two bedrooms that have doors, a garage, a back yard, and two and a half bathrooms. You asked me to move into your loft.”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh, Buck.”

Buck's eyes shot over to him. “You're still here why?”

Eddie stood from his spot on the couch, grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I'm going. Later.”

They both stayed silent until they heard the door open and close.

Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This is our first fight, isn't it?”

Tommy nodded. “It is.”

“Took us long enough.”

Tommy managed a small smile. “Probably should have fought you that night, honestly.”

“I think I would have felt better if you did.”

“Me too.” Tommy took a deep breath. “I actually really do have to pee,” he said, shifting from one crutch to the other. “Can we pause this until I'm done?”

Buck nodded. “I'll be here.”

They didn't actually fight anymore after that. It was time for Tommy to take his meds, which made him tired, and Buck was tired himself from his shift. Tommy laid in bed, Buck snoring on the floor beside him, thinking it all over. All the things he still felt like he needed to say. The unfinished business they had between them.

The fight wasn't much, but it was something.

It was enough.

For now.

*****

“Are you sure you're good on your own?” Buck asked as Tommy limped behind him toward the door.

“I'm sure. I can successfully do everything on my own now with minimal to no pain.”

Buck turned back to him quickly, eyes wide. “But there's still pain?”

Tommy smiled. “I'm fine, Evan.”

Buck didn't look so sure. “Okay, I... Okay.” Instinctively, he moved forward to wrap Tommy in a hug. He stopped himself before he got too close, but Tommy responded by opening his arms.

Buck's posture relaxed as he gently wrapped his arms around Tommy, careful not to squeeze too tightly. "I was so worried about you," he whispered in the space between them.

"I know."

“You'll call the number I gave you?” he asked.

“I already did yesterday,” Tommy admitted. “When you went out to pick up dinner. My first session is next Monday.”

“Good. That's... That's good.”

“Thank you, Evan. For everything you've done for me. You didn't have to do that.”

Reluctantly, Buck pulled himself away from Tommy.

“Did you realize you've been calling me Evan since our fight a couple weeks ago?” he asked, lips upturning into a smile.

“Oh, um,” Tommy shifted on his feet, taking the pressure off his bad knee. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Don't be sorry. I hate when you call me Buck.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I'll always- I wanna be Evan, to you.”

Tommy nodded, staring into Evan's eyes. “Okay. That's. I'd like that too.”

Buck continued toward the door, stopping again as soon as his hand touched the handle. He looked back. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you think about texting me... hit send, okay?”

Tommy had never mentioned that before. But he'd caught Buck's near-texts to him too, so it didn't quite catch him off guard. “I'm kinda a mess, Evan. I'm not as comfortable as you think I am. I'm not... I'm still figuring things out.”

“That's okay. I am too. Text me anyway.”

“Even if I'm asking you out for a coffee? So we can talk? Really talk?”

“Date and time, I'll be there.” Buck smiled softly at him as he opened the door to leave. “I'll get your order right this time.”

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

64 / 4.1k / soap soulmate au, final part

...

"You doing okay?"

Hearing Graves’ voice knocks what little breath you had out of your lungs. It's been months, but that's him. Your old boss. You never thought you'd hear his voice again.

"I've been better," you say finally. "Been awhile."

"Yeah, it has," he says. "Wish you'd've called me to catch up sometime, rather than under the circumstances. You don't sound too banged up. They treat you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"I didn't ask how you feel. I asked if they roughed you up."

You feel your own temper shorten in response. "I need you to call KorTac off."

There's a pause. You can imagine his frowning face, the way he's thinking that one over. "I'll take that under advisement," he finally says, but you can tell he's not going to do what you ask of him. "Puttin' me in a predicament here, kid. You're giving those boys a hard time, and here I thought I was helping you out. Paying your bail, so to speak."

"It’s more complicated than that."

"Always is. Let’s just have you dropped off back on base with us. You can clean yourself up and we’ll talk."

He waits for your crisp yes, sir, but it never comes.

He speaks again. "You got somewhere else to be?"

"I can't go back."

"Can't or won't? You got something you ain't tellin me, soldier?"

"I said I can't go back. And I'm not your soldier anymore. You're not my boss. I don't work for you."

"You know Shadows don't leave one of our own behind. Not to rot in some CIA prison cell. So lose the attitude," he says, voice like iron. "This ain't a good time to play games, kid. You're comin' back with me because I spent a pretty penny on you. You owe me. You have your personal business, fine. Come on back to base and let's talk this out face to face before you go makin' any hasty decisions."

You're so frustrated it's hard to form words. You should be grateful. You know that. Graves doesn’t pretend to care about his men. He cares enough to lead from the front. But you met your soulmate, and you can’t act like it didn't change you. You need to make things right. You also can’t exactly tell Graves you kind of sold him out.

"Hey. Focus up." He doesn't raise his voice to a command. Still, the order is in his voice, and you have been long trained to follow your commander's orders. Then he sighs. "What happened to you, kid?"

"You betrayed the 141. You killed innocent people in Las Almas, looking for them."

You can almost hear his jaw working behind his clenched teeth, the muscles in his face tight. He does not allow this kind of disrespect. "You think I like what I had to do? General Shepherd's orders were clear. We followed them. 141 did not." He huffs out a sigh. "I didn't enjoy it. But that's the job. You of all people know that."

You swallow. "You told us they were our brothers. You killed innocent people, Commander. Johnny said he saw you do it--"

"Johnny?" Grave's voice rises. "You on a first name basis with Soap now?"

"We all know what happened in Las Almas," you retort. Your skin goes hot at the way he says Johnny's name. "I won't work for Shepherd anymore after that. I won't fucking do it."

"Don't pull that with me." The warning is written in his voice. This isn't like you. To the Shadows, you’re calm. Cold. You don't lose your temper. You don't talk back. Especially not to Graves. "You think you can walk away at the drop of a hat just because you don't agree with an order? It doesn't work like that. You follow an order, even if you don't like it, even if it pisses you off. You don't get to decide what you think is right or wrong to carry out. When I give you an order, you follow it. That's your job. Your loyalty is with me. Not with the 141."

"I did my job."

"Then act like it," he snaps. "Stop acting like I'm some evil bastard out here. I made the only choice I could. Task Force 141 was not supposed to be there. They knew my orders, and what did they do? They came after my men, went behind my back, screwed us over. We did what we had to. You wanna be pissed at someone? Be pissed at them."

You glare down at the ice, but say nothing.

"You know I'm right." He knows you. He's getting to you. "And you know what else I find interesting? You don't seem a bit surprised to hear me alive." His voice is too casual and sharp as a knife. "Didn't you get the memo? Did no one forward you my obituary, soldier?"

You stiffen. You're not supposed to know he's alive.

"You're an awful liar. Always have been." He pauses for a long moment. "It ain't easy, surviving against the 141 if they want you dead. You know how I managed it, soldier?"

Yes. "No,” you retort. “And stop calling me that. I'm not your soldier. I don't work for you anymore."

"The hell you aren't. Maybe you're not on the payroll anymore, and maybe you're no longer under my command, but once a Shadow, always a Shadow. That makes you my responsibility. And my goddamn headache." Something shuffles on the other end of the line. "You know exactly what I'm willing to do to keep one of my Shadows safe. But if you're so keen on turning yourself in, fine. I'll have you in front of Shepherd's desk first thing tomorrow. Is that what you want? You know Soap and Ghost put Shadows in the ground that night in Las Almas."

"Shadows tried to put Johnny and Ghost in the ground first."

"This isn't about who shot first. This is about you." His voice is dangerously low, but he keeps his temper in check. Then he huffs a laugh. "You keep callin’ him Johnny. Makes my brain itch." Johnny MacTavish. John MacTavish. Yeah, that's it. "I'll be damned," he mutters.

You touch your exposed soulmark compulsively as if to hide it. Most soldiers hide theirs, but yours has always been tough to cover up. He's seen it more than a few times.

"Got you right out from under my fuckin' nose."

Your stomach tightens. You feel too exposed, like suddenly he’s putting the story together--how 141 got in.

"Shoulda known. Shoulda known. You know the military has a registry for this shit. There are rules. What's wrong with you?"

"I made a mistake," you mutter.

That might be the funniest thing he ever heard. And he's heard some good jokes. "You don't make mistakes, kiddo. You never have. That's not how I trained you." He's right, and you know it. "But hey. Guess it's true what they say about it."

"What?"

"Soulbonds. Make you take your best-laid plans and raze ‘em. Full scorched earth.”

“This isn’t about that. I’m making this decision on my own.”

“You think?” He takes a puff on his cigarette. “I don’t. I don't blame you, either. You sure as hell fought it as best you could. Didn't give in to save your own life. If that's not the soulbond making your decision for you, soldier, I don't know what is."

You look up at the sky. For all the time you spent working with Graves, that past version of you might as well be dead. Maybe that’s the grave you’ve been digging. "I can't work for Shepherd anymore. I won't do it."

"You're a good soldier, 86. You were loyal. I still think you're loyal, even if I'm not who you're loyal to," he finally says. His voice is still calm. It doesn't make you feel any better. "You know if you choose to walk away from this, the next time we meet might well be as enemies."

"Then I guess we won't meet again, sir."

He says nothing. Then he lets out a long huff. You really are going to do him dirty. You can hear his scowl. "That's a damn shame, kid. But you have more of a spine than I gave you credit for," he says. There's a tone of reluctant respect to it. That's as close as you're going to get to a compliment from him now. "You're a loose end, then. You'd best stay well out of the way. Mine and Shepherd's. I hope you're not making the wrong choice, 86," he says quietly. "I really hope you're not."

"It’s out of your hands now. And pay KorTac," you add. "Pay my squad. They did their job."

That makes him scoff. "Now why would I do that? You might be a traitor, but you're still my investment. You were worth more on my payroll than theirs, and that’s a fact I intend to maintain."

"You owe me," you remind him.

"Don't push your luck," he warns. "You're an asset. You don’t get the privileges of rank anymore. But, well..." He sighs. You imagine him with his heels kicked back on his desk, cigarette in hand. "I’ll tell you what. I’m in a charitable mood. I'll pay them off. I'm a man of my word when the time comes to pay off my debts. Hell, I’ll even throw in a tip for a job well done." Despite the annoyance in his voice, you don't doubt he'll do just that. "But that doesn’t mean I trust you anymore. I trusted you once, and you went rogue. I let you go now, that means I expect you to keep my secrets. Don't you go singing if Shepherd puts you in a chair. You got that?"

You glance up out of the corner of your eye at Soap, whose hands are still clenched in tight fists at his sides. "If Shepherd puts me in a chair, he's the one who's gonna sing. Not me."

Graves chuckles. "You're a good soldier, 86, but you can't take on an old war dog like Shepherd. Leave that to someone more qualified."

"Like who? You?"

"As I said, you best steer clear. I don't want to hear your name again." His voice hardens, and you hear your old commander again. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it. And give Soap hell."

You toss the phone back to Horangi. He listens to what Graves has to say. Then, eyes meeting yours for a moment, he wordlessly moves out away from the river, leaving you weary with relief. It's over. Finally.

Soap watches him disappear into the trees. Then, he looks back at you, alone and shivering on the ice. You look half-dead, bleeding, and your lips are near blue. He wants to make his way to you, but the ice is scarcely holding you. It won't hold him, too.

"Oi," Soap calls. His voice is rough with anxiety. "Get over here. You're gonnae freeze to death even if you don't fall through."

You blink up at him. Standing in the rising sun the way he is now, he looks like someone’s guardian angel. Yours? You'd like very much to be wrapped in his wings.

You make your way over to the bank, but the rocky ledge up is slippery and icy. Behind you, between the ice where you're standing and the bank, there's a yawning gap. To your left, there's a bridge, but snow has already melted off the surface of the ice, and it looks thin. "There's no way up," you call. "But downriver..."

"No’ a chance in hell I’m going to let you try to cross that," Soap says as he approaches the edge. "You'll be swept away and drown, hen. You're not in any condition to swim, and even if you were, that river's too bloody fast to risk it."

"Then what do you suggest?"

His eyes sweep over the river once more. It's wide; too wide to attempt a jump across. The ice has fallen in, leaving it almost impossible to make it to the bank. It isn't safe. The longer you stand there, the more the ice cracks under you. He admires your guts for putting yourself on the line like that to get back to him, but damn you. His blood pressure has never been higher.

Soap throws off his pack and slings his gear onto the bank. "I'll pull you up."

"But..."

"But nothing." With the adrenaline still pumping through his system, Soap thinks nothing of the risk of the bank collapsing under you both with his added weight. The only thing on his mind is getting you back in one piece. "We both know damn well, if I was the one on the ice now, you'd already be down there trying to help me, so for once, just shut up and let me help you."

Can't argue with that.

He pulls out an ice hook--mountaineering equipment; he was prepared to climb this mission, luckily--and offers it to you.

You toss the grenade as far as you can in the opposite direction. Then you raise your hands to grasp the rope. He's holding the sharp end and giving you the handle. You try to keep hold, but as he lifts, your bloodied hands slip just as the grenade explodes nearby, too close, spiderwebbing the ice with a final crack.

You land hard, break through, and disappear under the freezing water.

Soap has never known panic faster than when he sees you go under.

He dives after you. He has to get you back to the surface before whatever air you had in your lungs gives out. Your survival is his survival.

He finds you in the rushing black abyss when your fingers hook around his sleeve. Wrapping his hands around your arms, Soap anchors you to his chest.

You come to in his arms. You're colder than you ever have been in your life. Your fingertips tingle in pain and numbness. He's carrying you ashore somehow--far downriver, thinner ice--and he ducks into an old cabin with you in his arms.

Soap kicks the door shut behind him and moves into the cabin to set you on the floor, propping your back against the wall. His hands work fast as he pulls out his knife to cut away your soaked thermal clothes and gear. You dip in and out of consciousness until he wads up a fistful of gauze and packs it into your side wound. The sudden pain chokes you. Then a wave of nausea washes over you. You’d like nothing more than to tell him where precisely he can shove that gauze, but you’re too lightheaded.

"You with me, hen?" His gruff voice wavers. "I need you to stay awake."

He gathers you up in his arms and lifts you into his lap. It's a tight fit, wedged underneath the frosty window and between a table and an upturned stool. You register the warmth of his skin on yours and dimly realize he's stripped both of you almost bare, huddling around you to prevent hypothermia.

You soak up Soap’s body heat instantly. He's a furnace, and he needs to be, given the state you're in. He tucks you as close as he can. You're both shivering, but he doesn't care. He can be cold as long as you're warm. His broad body shields you from the drafts leaking into the decrepit cabin.

"No, no, eyes open." He tilts your face up as your eyes flutter. "Don't go passin' out on me."

You gaze up at him in your stupor. Maybe it's the blood loss, but even through your own pain and frustration, he's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

"You have really odd eyes," you mutter. "Like blueberry soft serve."

Oh, you're definitely delirious. Maybe concussed.

But he can't deny the look you're giving him right now makes his stomach flip. The sight of you in his lap, your frost-scorched fingers wrapped idly around his ID tag and staring up at him like he's just pulled the moon out of the sky for you... it's the first time he’s seen you with your guard down.

He swallows and keeps you pressed against his skin. There’s a lot of blood. He can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. "You're in no shape to flatter me."

You hum, your fingers dabbing idly at a smear of blood on his chest.

He doesn't move to stop you. Instead, his eyes flick down to your hand. Your fingers leave a trail of sparks over everywhere you touch.

With a soft sigh, Soap catches your wrist. "Quit it, hen."

"Quit what?"

"Teasin'. Makin' me wish you'd put those hands to other uses," he says, voice quiet and rough. It's just you and him in the little cabin. The world is far away. His thumb rubs against the inside of your wrist, trying to bring some warmth back into your skin. "You're in no shape to be feelin' me up, either."

Your head lolls against his shoulder. "Maybe it's the perfect time. Maybe we won't get another time."

Hearing you say that twists his insides into knots. He leans down to rest his forehead against yours. "Maybe you just need to shut up and let me take care of you. Don't talk like that." His voice leaves no room for argument. He tightens his grip on you, pressing you closer as if he can somehow press that into your skin by sheer will alone. "There'll be plenty of times for you to get your hands on me."

"Mm." You tuck into him tighter. You'd be mortified with yourself if you weren't half-dead from blood loss. "Sorry."

He exhales into your hair, pressing chaste kisses there.

You're practically in his lap, the two of you tangled into each other from head to foot in the space under the window. He's surrounded by the smell of you. It's a soothing presence in all that surrounds him.

He shouldn't want to touch you, shouldn't want to take advantage of your weakness--but the thought of having you so open and wanting, of you willingly in his arms, makes something in him ache. Makes the selfish parts of him scream.

"You're a pain in my arse," he says. He focuses on taking inventory of your wounds, brushing over your arms with his touch to assess the damage. "You gonnae bleed out on me?"

You shiver a little as he drags you closer by your bare thigh. "Wouldn't be the worst way to go."

"Oi," he snaps in warning. He slides his hand up your side, checking for bleeding. It’s just as much a caress over your bare skin. He has to ignore how his skin tingles every time the curve of your body slides against his in that tantalizing way. Something in his lower belly tightens. "You don't get to tap out after makin' me go through all this trouble for you. You're livin' through tonight or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else." He moves his hand up to the base of your throat, his large, calloused fingers wrapping around your neck and tilting your chin up to look at him. He fixes his blue eyes on yours to take in the dazed expression on your face. "I'll drag your arse out of hell and tan it until you can't sit right."

You're too weary to laugh, but you rest your scuffed cheek on his thumb, and it pushes your lips into a smirk. "All for me?"

"Aye. Hell of a lot more trouble than your pretty face should be worth."

You pull free and rest your head on his shoulder again. "Where do you live?"

"Glasgow," he says. "Not sure I should be tellin' you that."

You trace his chest around the chain of his ID tag. So many muscles. "Probably not."

"And what about you? Do I get to know?"

"No. Maybe. If we get out of here."

"Yeah? Well, you're not goin' anywhere with this wound. Bleedin' out, nearly froze to death, and still mouthin' off. No idea how to shut up and be good." He looks down at the injury, assessing how bad it really is in the dim light of the cabin. "You lost a lot of blood. I bet you feel tired." He brushes your hair off your face. "Stay awake a bit longer. The boys'll be here soon."

"I shouldn't," you mutter.

Soap doesn't miss the slurring of your words. He knew the blood loss would affect you, but he was hoping for more time before he had to really worry. "Shouldn't stay? Too late to get away from me now," he says, trying to keep his tone casual. Your skin is too cold for comfort. The gauze in your wound soaking through with blood can't mean anything good. "I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Sure as hell not letting you out of my sight. You've got a lot to repay me for."

You try to keep your eyes open. Every blink is more sluggish than the last. "Like what?"

"Runnin' away and makin' me chase after you, for one. Puttin' yourself in the line of fire for me, second. Takin' a swim in a frozen river. Scared me to death." He presses his lips to the crown of your head, a gentle, chaste touch at odds with the possessive, dominating instinct he can feel creeping into his thoughts. You're vulnerable right now, something he should never want, but part of him wonders if he’d ever have caught up with you without this. "Aye, you owe me. First thing we do once you're patched up? We have a long talk. We have a whole hell of a lot we need to say to one another. And you'll answer every question I ask you."

"I dunno if you'll like the stuff I say," you mutter.

"Hardly matters. You’re plenty keen on spittin’ fire at me as it is. No reason you can’t keep tellin’ me everything I don’t want tae hear."

Another shiver wracks your body.

Soap rubs your arms. "You gotta give your word you stay awake for me, aye? Stay here."

His radio beeps nearby. You huff. "Fine."

"Fine." He leans over to grab his radio and tries to keep an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm as he does. He keeps you cradled against his chest as he responds to Price.

"Soap here."

You don't hear the conversation. Instead, you listen to Soap's voice vibrate through his chest. He speaks to Price in hushed tones, talking about your condition and the team's ETA.

Price has a laundry list of questions, but Soap manages to wrangle them into holding off until they have everyone back on base. No sense exhausting you on a mission that's already been a shitshow. Finally, they're done. Soap lets the radio go to focus entirely on you again. "Still with me?"

"How long do we have?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer," he says. He checks your side again. The coldness of the air has soaked into the wet gauze. You shiver again. It makes something in him ache. "ETA's about ten minutes out."

You pull his lips down to yours and kiss him.

He's surprised, but he doesn't pull back--not from you. He lets you kiss him. Your taste seeps into his brain and turns all rational thought to white noise. One hand cups your jaw with a surprising gentleness, and the other slides behind your waist to keep you against his body. He's gentle--you need to be handled with care right now.

He pulls back before he loses himself in the desire to deepen the kiss. His eyes search your face, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips.

"You're lucky you're injured," he murmurs. "Or you'd be in a very different kind of trouble right now."

You shiver, but not with the cold. Just that one kiss has you feeling much warmer. You touch your name where it's written on his arm. Then you curl your fingers around the back of his neck and pull yourself closer. "Hold onto that thought for later," you murmur. "Give me something to wait for."

Then you kiss him again.

...

← previous part / [part 13] / epilogue →

part 1 / more Soap / masterlist

thank you <3

[maldaptivedreamer]

Lonely Souls - Arcane

One lonely soul comforts another for a night.

content: Vi x reader, errors/mistakes, pit fighter Vi, alcoholism to cope, drunk Vi, vulnerable Vi, injured Vi, name calling, no sex but intimacy, reader bathes Vi, brief aggression from man at beginning, angst/comfort i think

wc: ~3.5k

a/n: Sooo, this is my first Arcane fic, but insanely excited. Don't know if this good but I have more I'm workin on. Can't believe arcane's over and idk wth I'm sposed to do now.

MINORS DNI NSFW 18+

Main Masterlist

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you massage your temple with two fingers, trying to ease the building headache.

“You frigid whore! Think you’re too good for me!?! For my money!?!” The man struggles helplessly in the unmoving arms of Wik. Wik grunts, his expression unreadable as he gazes at you.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you dismiss Wik with a wave of your hand. He silently turns and disappears, the beaded curtains rattling together behind him. The man’s hysterical screaming rings in your ears.

Sinking back into the plush cushions of the couch, you sigh and shut your eyes.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of heels clicking on the floor interrupts your attempt to ease the strain in your eyes.

You frown and slowly raise your head to face her. With a raised eyebrow, you wait.

Babbette's large, crimson eyes are narrowed in concern. She takes a step toward you, lifting a slim hand. Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly lift your arm into her grip. Her long nails dig into your skin as she inspects the deep scratches marring its surface.

Her eyes darken briefly before she releases your arm, allowing you to pull it back. With a dry tone, you speak. “I’m fine… Guess, I should stick to my regulars, huh?”

Babbette doesn't entertain your joke. She takes a long drag from her cigarette, studying you carefully for a long moment before finally speaking up. “Any chance you wanna tell me why you’re here? You don’t have any clients today…” You ignore the knowing tone of her voice.

Maintaining steady eye contact, you shrug stoically. “No.”

Babbette gives you a meaingful look but nods in understanding, silently waving her cigarette at you as she turns to leave. "Go home. Don't come back unless you have a client," she warns you before disappearing between the beaded curtains.

You watch her leave, the clicking of her heels fading. The silence that follows is deafening, the sounds of the brothel beyond your room feeling far and distant.

Sighing deeply, you rub a harsh hand over your face. The adrenaline from the earlier altercation is wearing off, leaving you feeling drained and hollow.

You know why you're here. But admitting it, even to yourself, feels like a step you're not ready to take. It's easier to lose yourself in the brothel, in the false intimacy and fleeting connections. Anything to avoid facing the emptiness that awaits you at home.

Slowly, you rise from the cushions, your body protesting with every movement. The scratches on your arm burn as you reach for your coat.

Gritting your teeth, you step out into the grimy street. The smell of vomit and stale beer invades your nostrils and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. The pounding behind your eyes intensifies, throbbing in sync with the pulsing of neon lights.

With a huff, you wrap your coat tighter around your body. 

As you continue walking, the crowd thins and the darkness grows deeper. You feel a sense of relief at the quiet, your headache slowly easing.

Your home. Small. Dingy. But it's yours. 

You can feel the tension in your body simultaneously ease and worsen with each step you take. Swallowing hard, you try to push down the growing sense of loneliness in your stomach and the conflicting need to be alone.

The feeling of another person is overwhelming. It burns your skin. Makes you want to peel it back and run… But it can be freeing. Touching someone else, caring for someone else and tending to their needs brings you a deep sense of contentment. You crave, yearn for it, that connection with someone. A connection that you’ll never have.

That sense of loss is overwhelming and you feel a gasp bubbling in your throat. Stumbling into a wall as you choke on your breath, you allow the cool brick to ground you. Closing your eyes, you run a hand over the rough texture of brick. 

A sudden crash and slurred cursing from a nearby alley startles you. The tightness in your chest eases, replaced by a rush of adrenaline as your instincts kick in. As you cautiously approach the noise, your hand slips into the pocket of your skirt.

But as you round the corner, your posture relaxes and your hand falls limp at your side. You recognize the figure- drunk, off balance and stumbling, but familiar. 

Vi. Your heart clenches at the sight of her, drunk and alone.

She’s become one of your regulars. A client, the only client, that makes your job not feel like one. You’ve developed a certain… fondness for her. One you shouldn’t have. One that could get you into trouble… like today.

It's impossible to deny the growing affection you have for her. After all, the loneliness in her eyes is one you know intimately- in every lingering touch, every desperate grip on your skin, every breath consumed.

"Vi?" you call softly, stepping into the alley.

She twists, nearly losing her balance as she faces you. Her clouded blue eyes struggle to find you in the dim light and she squints as she tries to place you. Recognition dawns slowly.

“Princess, watchu doin’ here?” Her slurred words muddle together and you sigh, taking in her disheveled appearance. You can make out a fresh bruise on her cheekbone.

"I could ask you the same thing." Your reply is soft and you take careful steps closer, your heels echoing in the narrow alley. "You okay?"

Vi snorts. "’M doin’ jus’ peachy, princess." Her shoe catches on a pile of garbage and she stumbles.

You quickly step forward, your hands instinctively reaching out to steady her before she falls. As soon as your hands meet her skin, she collapses into you, her head burying itself in the crook of your neck. You grunt as she leans into you, your knees almost buckling beneath you. You can smell the cheap liquor on her breath, mixed with the scent of sweat and blood on her skin.

The smell of alcohol intensifies as she mumbles against your skin, her words barely decipherable. "'M tired, princess… So fuckin' tired."

Furrowing your brow with concern, you hold her close to you, supporting her weight as she leans on you. "Let's get you home." Your voice is tender. "Where are you staying, gorgeous?" You hate seeing her like this. You’ve only ever seen her hurting. You desperately wish you could take away all of her pain, all of her hurt.

She doesn't answer and you gently nudge her, coaxing her eyes to meet yours. Seeing that you have her attention, you repeat your question. “Vi, where’s your home?”

She shrugs and tightens her arm around you. With a vague wave of her hand, she responds, nearly losing her balance. "Dunno. Don't matter."

Your heart clenches at the lost look in her eyes. You know you shouldn't, but… "My place isn't far."

Vi's unfocused gaze finds yours, a flicker of surprise crossing her powder blue eyes before they darken in defense. Her voice is gruff and the clearest it’s been. “You don’t have to.”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness in your chest. "I know I don't have to. I want to."

Vi stares at you for a long moment, her brows downturned in a frown.

With a nonchalant shrug of your shoulder, you attempt to give her an unconcerned glance. “You’ve got two options, gorgeous. A mediocre, semi-warm, semi-soft bed. Or a shitty alley.”

After a moment of contemplation, she nods and leans more of her weight against you. "Lead the way, princess."

The walk to your apartment is slow and unsteady. Vi stumbles more than once, and you have to pause frequently to readjust your grip on her. By the time you reach your door, you're both breathing heavily.

You fumble with your keys, struggling to keep Vi upright with one arm while unlocking the door with the other. Finally, you manage to get inside, kicking the door shut behind you.

Darkness greets you as you stagger into your apartment, wincing when your toe painfully collides with a sharp corner.

Vi chuckles at your soft curse, her breath hot against your neck. "Smooth, princess."

With groping hands, you search for the light switch amidst the darkness and roll your eyes. "Yeah and you’re just the epitome of smooth right now, gorgeous."

With gentle yet confident steps, you guide her further into your apartment. You can't help but feel a little self-conscious about the mess of your home, but you try to push those thoughts aside as you focus on helping Vi.

Entering your bedroom, she suddenly tenses up, her muscles tightening beneath your hands. "Wait," she slurs, trying to pull away. "I can't... I don't have any money on me."

A lump forms in your throat at her words. "Hey, no," you say softly yet firmly, facing her with empathy in your eyes. "This isn't about money, Vi. I'm just trying to help you."

She blinks at you, confusion clear in her bleary eyes. "But… why?"

Swallowing back your own emotions, you choose to ignore her question.

Vi grunts as you guide her to your small bed, her weight nearly pulling you both down. You manage to lower her onto the mattress, where she immediately flops onto her back with a groan.

"Shit, princess," she slurs, throwing an arm over her eyes. "Your place is nicer than mine."

You snort softly, moving to remove her boots. "Doubt that. It's a shithole, but it's home."

Vi props herself up on her elbows, watching you with glossy eyes and she repeats her question. "Why're you doin' this?" she asks, her voice small and uncertain.

You pause, looking up at her. Your throat tightens as you find yourself unable to look away at the raw vulnerability in her stare. "I… maybe I see a little bit of myself in you… and I- I care about you, Vi." You admit hoarsely, the words heavy with truth and emotion. You swallow hard, knowing that you are treading dangerous waters with your confession. Your voice comes out in a low whisper, almost apologetically. "Maybe more than I should."

She stares at you, her brow creasing in confusion and uncertainty. But before she can respond, you quickly rise to your feet, needing to create distance between you both. “The water is lukewarm at best, but there’s a shower through the door.” You offer awkwardly, gesturing towards the bathroom with a trembling hand. You try to compose yourself by smoothing down the wrinkles in your dress.

Turning to leave, you wince at the sound of your own footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Hesitating at the door, you spin back to face her with a soft look, hoping she can see the sincerity in your eyes. “Do- do you think that you’ll need help?” Your words hang heavy in the air.

The brothel was a world of its own, where the air was thick with desire and the walls were lined with secrets. While there was a slight sense of yearning with each lingering caress, every gentle brush of the other’s lips, this is different. This is far more vulnerable and intimate than lust. This would mean more.

You both know that this will change everything.

Vi's eyes soften, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing. "I... yeah. I think so." She admits, her voice rough.

You silently nod as you try to process the weight of the trust she's placing in you.

With careful tenderness, you help Vi to her feet and guide her towards the small bathroom. Her eyes remain downcast, refusing to meet yours.

Placing her on the toilet seat, you turn to the bathtub. The sound of rushing water fills the cramped space, bouncing off the tiled walls. Guiding Vi out of her jacket, her muscles tense under your touch but she doesn't pull away. You can see the pain etched on her face as she struggles to hide it.

Taking a deep breath, you fight to keep your expression neutral. Her delicate skin is marred with bruises - some still angry and inflamed, others fading into sickly greens and yellows. Small cuts line her arms, their edges crusted over with dried blood.

Setting aside her jacket, you carefully begin to unroll the bandages on her arms. Each strip reveals more damaged skin underneath. Your heart aches as you run your hands over the tender areas, trying to soothe away some of the hurt. Vi's eyes flutter closed, her tense body slowly relaxing under your gentle touch.

Moving on to the next arm, you continue to remove the bandages with careful precision.

As you step away from her, Vi's hand darts out to grab yours in a desperate hold. Meeting her gaze with a reassuring look, you press your lips to her bruised knuckles before gently laying her hand on her lap. Patting it softly, you slowly move towards the tub and turn off the water.

Licking your dry lips, you lower to your knees. Inhaling, your fingers hover over the bandages on her chest. Despite Vi's nod of approval, your fingers still hesitate as they reach for the bandages. She nods again and raises her arms with a wince.You peel away the gauze slowly.. Each layer falls away, exposing more of her skin. You keep your movements clinical, professional.

Not glancing at her chest, you watch her blue eyes. Searching for any sign of uncomfortability or hesitation.

Giving her a soft smile, you shove the bandages in a small pile and raise your hands to her pants. Your soft voice pierces the peaceful atmosphere. “Think you can help me out?”

Nodding, she grunts with effort as she rises from the toilet. Rising, you help her undo her pants and she steadies herself on your shoulders.

Stepping out her pants, she watches you glance at her from beneath your lashes. Vi feels a discomforting warmth at your care, your softness. Licking her dry lips, her voice comes out raspy in vulnerability that she tries to hide. “If I was sober, princess, I'd be taking you apart right now."

You send her a kind but perceptive look."I know, gorgeous." You murmur, helping her step into the tub. "Let's focus on taking care of you first."

Vi hisses as she sinks into the warm water, her muscles tensing before slowly relaxing. You grab a washcloth and begin to gently clean her wounds, careful not to aggravate the wounds that litter her skin. The washcloth quickly dirties and you grab another.

You bring the fresh cloth to her face and begin to wipe her face free of black grease. Vi watches you with heavy-lidded eyes. "I’m sorry." she slurs, her voice thick with exhaustion and lingering alcohol.

You pause, the washcloth hovering over the VI on her cheek, and meet her guilty eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for Vi. Not to me."

She shakes her head, as she pulls away from your touch. Drawing her knees to her chest, she wraps her arms around them and turns to face the wall. "I-” Vi chokes out, but stops as sobs wrack through her body.

You can feel tears cloud your eyes and you envelop her in your arms. She quickly shoves her face into your neck and pulls you to her desperately. 

You ignore the material of your shirt sticking to your skin, the smell of sweat and alcohol that still lingers on her skin. Ignore the rim of the tub as it digs into your hips. Ignore the way her nails claw into your skin in anguish.

You hold Vi as she cries, her body shaking with each sob. Your fingers thread through her damp black hair, gently massaging her scalp in an attempt to soothe her. The water sloshes around her as she trembles, but you pay it no mind, focused solely on comforting the broken woman in your arms.

"Shh, I've got you, Vi. You're safe." You murmur softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "I’m here."

Her sobs gradually subside, replaced by shaky breaths and occasional hiccups. She doesn't move from your embrace, her face still buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel her eyelashes flutter against your skin as she blinks away the last of her tears.

"I'm a mess." Vi’s voice is hoarse and muffled against your skin.

You release an understanding breath and speak dryly. “I don’t know anyone who isn’t, gorgeous.”

You part from her and cup her face gently, your thumb tracing the tattoo on her cheek. “Think you can stand, gorgeous.” You nudge your head at the darkened water. “Your skin’s gettin’ wrinkly and I think you need to rinse off again.”

Vi nods weakly, her eyes still red-rimmed and puffy. You help her to her feet, steadying her as she sways slightly. 

The water drains away, grime and blood swirling down. You turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature before guiding Vi under the spray.

You step into the shower and let her lean on you as you run your lathered hands across her skin. Vi stands still, allowing you to care for her.

You can feel how exhausted she is as she presses into you. Her hands loosely wrapped around your hips.

Humming, you tap her back and tenderly remove her face from your neck. Her long lashes brush her cheeks as she closes her eyes. Your soft fingers rub any remnants of grime and makeup from her face.

Vi leans into your touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips as you scrub the soap through her hair. She releases a hushed breath as your fingers comb over her head, savoring the feeling of your hands massaging gentle circles on her scalp. The warm water cascades over both of you, steam rising around your bodies. 

"Feels nice." She murmurs, her voice barely audible over the sound of running water.

Your lips twitch into a small smile as you continue your ministrations. "Good. You deserve to feel nice, Vi."

Her eyes flutter open at that, meeting yours with a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty. You hold her gaze, your fingers still working through her hair.

"Do I?" she asks, her voice small and hesitant.

Your heart clenches at the doubt in her voice. "You do.” Smoothing your hands across her face, you push her head back and rinse her hair. “Wash yourself and then we’ll be all done, gorgeous.”

Vi nods slowly, her movements still unsteady as she begins to wash her intimate areas. You keep a supportive hand on her waist, ready to catch her if she stumbles. As she finishes, you turn off the water and reach for a towel.

Wrapping the towel around her, you help Vi step out of the shower. Exhaustion is evident in every line of her body and you dry her to the best of your ability. Your clothes and hair leave a trail of water as you guide her back to the bedroom, sitting her on the edge of the bed.

"Wait here," you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll get you something to wear."

You rummage through your drawers, pulling out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts. When you turn back, Vi is slumped forward, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow.

Touching her shoulder, you gather the shirt in your arms and stretch the collar over her head. Vi lazily helps you put her arms through the shirt and you bend to drag the shorts up her legs.

Vi's eyelids flutter, her gaze unfocused as you finish dressing her. She mumbles something incoherent, her head lolling forward. You catch her gently, easing her back onto the bed.

"Easy there, gorgeous," you murmur, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead.

You maneuver her under the covers, tucking them around her body. Vi burrows into the pillow, her eyes already closed. You stand there for a moment, watching the rise and fall of her chest, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over you.

Sighing softly, you turn to leave, but a hand shoots out from under the covers, grasping weakly at your wrist.

"Stay," Vi mumbles, her eyes cracking open just enough to meet yours. "Please."

Your heart stutters in your chest. You know you shouldn't. But the vulnerability in her gaze, the need in her voice, makes your resolve crumble.

"Okay." You whisper back. "Just let me change and I’ll be right-”

Her blue eyes shoot open and her grip grows tighter. “Please don’t leave.”

You waver and lick your lips in resignation, nodding. Gently untangling her grip on your hand, she watches you go to your dresser and pull out another pair of clothes.

She calms as you quickly change and climb into bed behind her.

Vi immediately turns and burrows into your chest, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You can feel her breath hot against your collarbone, her body trembling slightly.

"I've got you. I’m here," you murmur, running your fingers through her damp hair.

She nods against your chest. You can feel the tension slowly leaving her body as you continue to stroke her hair, humming softly under your breath.

The room falls silent save for the sound of your quiet humming and Vi's steadying breaths.

[ipusingularitae]

that's why I'm so confused ab how i feel towards this scene.

1) the only ppl who know jinx was ab to kill herself was us, the audience. jinx has little to no sense of self-preservation in s1, in the eyes of Vi she's reckless, but she haven't mentioned killing herself of made a movement like that as far as Vi knows. she had made the movement accepting death but not having death by her own hands, which are different things. so in some way, yes, there's reason for Vi taking that as Jinx saying "go and be happy and I'm going away". Vi's reaction, in my interpretation, is about her sister going away for good, as far as she knows, but not killing herself. hell, I'm not gonna lie, i wasn't immediately thinking she was talking about killing herself either. so it's so fucking annoying the ppl who are seriously saying that "Vi let her sister to kill herself" bc it's a matter of what the characters know (it's s1ep3 finale all over again and somehow y'all still put the blame on Vi entirely) and could/couldn't do (we have no way to know this was 5min later as far as we know it could've been 1h later)

2) what i don't enjoy is the lack of enough conversation between Cait and Vi. bc yes, it's not about singleminded trying to get Jinx anymore, Caitlyn is saying she's not there anymore, she's done with Jinx for good. that's implied/clear enough. what it's not clear is how the fuck did she just let a terrible enough situation become worse and just goes "well i was mourning". of course you were - but so MOST PPL AROUND ZAUN FOR DECADES. the writing here is shallow. it's not only a matter of what Caitlyn did, it's about what Caitlyn allowed to make worse. it didn't start with her and it won't finish with her, and season 1 makes it clear that Vi knows this well enough to let herself grow more and more fond of Caitlyn, while holding accountable the fact that the ppl currently leading Piltover aren't trying to do enough. they had a point and they ignored it in order to make the issue of Caitlyn seem less than it actually is.

3) finally, if this wasn't happening inside a fucking prison cell i would be way less thorned. sorry, you're (the writers) telling me this is better than, idk on Caitlyn's bed after a scene of them both maybe having a shower together while Caitlyn washes off the dry blood in Vi's wounds, clean her hurt knuckles? there's the oil and water/water and blood imagery right there, and y'all just decided to throw that out of the window?

anyway, stop blaming Vi for what she didn't know and/or couldn't do. and the writers dismissed Vi's trauma and Caitlyn's action's real impact.

The sex scene could only happen after these conditions:

1) Jinx telling Vi she deserves to be happy with Caitlyn

2) Caitlyn letting go of her singleminded mission to capture/punish Jinx

Vi as a character has ALWAYS been torn by the division between Jinx and Caitlyn. The narrative has always demanded that she choose only of them and she has always refused. Always loving both of them, always trying to keep both of them in her life.

But after those scenes, the two loves of her life, the two halves of her heart weren’t pulling her in different directions anymore. Now both of them were leading her to the same destination: allowing herself happiness.

[fleurvi]

Sick!S/O | Arcane Women

request for arcane women with a sick gf

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characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi

cw: fem!reader

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Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa doesn't really take care of you when you're sick. She's a warrior, not a doctor. But we're delusional here, so I'll go with it.

You are not allowed to lift a finger. You need to recover properly so she'll have guards around you at all times so you can order them to get things for you. She visits you regularly to check up on your health and make sure you're being doted on. In a rare occurrence, she offers you a massage to relax you.

“How are you feeling?” Ambessa asks, heavy hands working against your shoulders and neck. You nod, thanking her for her service. “Maybe a bath would do you good.”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Caitlyn Kiramman

Cait panics. She can't think rationally at all. You cough once, and she's writing a eulogy. When she's sure it's not super serious, she's diligent in her care. She makes sure you stay hydrated and get plenty of rest.

“What are you doing? You should be resting,” says Cait as she notices you getting out of bed.

“Babe, c'mon”

“No. Don't you ‘babe’ me. You should be taking care of yourself,” She fusses, ushering you back to your bed.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Grayson

Grayson believes that if you mope around In bed, you'll just make it worse. She lets you rest when you need it, but she encourages you just to take some painkillers, hydrate adequately and go about your work.

“Here you go,” Grayson says, handing you medication and water. “We've got a busy day. If it gets too much, just let me know, and I'll send you home to rest,” She says, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mel Medarda

She just wants you to get better. Mel checks up on you but doesn't spend much time with you because she doesn't want to catch whatever you have. When she does visit you, she makes sure to ask if you're getting what you need and making sure you get it. She's mostly concerned about you resting, so she stays with you, talking softly with you until you fall asleep.

“Are you sure you're okay, my love?” She asks, running her hands over your back.

“Yeah, I think I need to sleep off. Thank you for coming to visit,” you say, closing your eyes.

“You're welcome, My Love”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sevika

Sevika loves you, but she's not going to baby you. She'll ask you if you're on your deathbed, and if the answer is no, then you can get off your ass and help her with whatever business she's been called on.

If you want Sevika to help you with anything, you've got to turn on the whining. She likes being useful, so if you really need it, she'll sit with you until you fall asleep, but she won't wait for you to wake up. You're tough, like her, so she leaves you to it until you wake up and are ready to get back to work.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Vi

Vi thinks her immune system is “built different”, and she's not entirely wrong. She'll stay with you, hold you while you sleep, and make sure you eat as well as you can in Zaun. If you tell her you're not really hungry, she will lecture you until you give in and at least try to eat.

“C'mon, pretty girl,” Vi says, leaning in to kiss you. You feel gross and push her head away.

“You'll get sick”

“Babe. My immune system is made of steel. I've never gotten sick in my life. Now come here and give me a proper kiss,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Fine. If you get sick, I'm not gonna baby you.”

“Yes, you will”, she laughs, and you know she's right.

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Thank you for reading!

This was a request! My main interests right now are arcane and attack on titan so please keep dropping in my inbox!

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I know plenty of people have already made a version of the "Jinx is alive" theory post but I've also seen so many of you mourn her death that I decided to gather all the evidence and make another post, turning this theory into a fact.

Because Jinx is alive. It's not a speculation. It's literally there.

The first thing I'm going to mention are the context clues Jinx gives herself. First, the last thing the ghost of Silco tells her. I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away. Then, the realization she comes to when Vi hugs her in the cell. You're never gonna give up on me, are you? What she tells Vi after she leaves her in that cell. You don't need to worry about me anymore. [...] And yes, her initial plan is to kill herself, because she thinks the only way for Vi to move on is for her to be gone. And Ekko gets there just in time to stop her but it looks like he doesn't convince her to abandon her plan, just change it.

And later, when she joins Vi in the final fight. What does she tell her? Still don't get it, huh, sis? I'm always with you. Even when we're worlds apart.

Everything that happens after is constructed specifically to let us and Vi believe that Jinx died. Until we get to this scene:

Caitlyn is studying the Hexgates designs.

She's looking through the pages depicting the place where the final fight happened, specifically focusing on the air vent shafts, while toying with a monkey bomb head - the same monkey bomb that Jinx used in her supposed last monents.

She looks down at the monkey...

Watch the eyes. The realization hits her...

And she smirks, knowing. Jinx used one of the air vents to escape before the explosion.

I've studied the explosion frame by frame. First, a small yellow explosion goes off - Jinx sets off the monkey bomb.

As it becomes bigger, she shoots out of there

this is still the beginning of the blast when we can still see her, and the big boom that destroys everything starts 10 frames later

Last context clue is a reference to the very first episode, which is clearly depicted in this gifset here, so instead of explaining, I'll just send you there to check for yourselves.

One thing that is speculation here is, how exactly did Caitlyn come into possession of the monkey bomb head? I doubt she found it there because it would have been turned to dust. And I'm thinking, Jinx took it with her and left it for Cait to find as a clue. She didn't want Vi to know but maybe she wanted Cait to figure it out. I imagine her sneaking into her house and maybe leaving it somewhere for Cait to find, like her desk or something. It gives Cait an idea, a gut feeling she needs to check, and that allows her to figure it out. Just like we are supposed to figure it out on our own.

Bottom line, Jinx is alive. She escaped the explosion through the air vents, then boarded the airship and left the city, convinced that the only way to give her sister a happy ending is to take herself out of the equation. The glitching closing shot saying The End in Jinx's colorful handwriting is a sign that she is telling us that this is where this story ends, like she's saying "don't look for me. It's over." That's also probably why we aren't shown what Caitlyn does with the information she now possesses.

I hope this helps take away from the grief 💙

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing the Gehenna Devils to Your Plushies - Pt. 1

The Gehenna Devils deciding to show up to your room for sex end up getting met with you deciding to sit down and show them all your plushies!!

I've decided to split Gehenna into two parts for my mental sake.

Notes: mildly sexual content, nothing to crazy. Gender neutral reader! This part includes: Sitri, Amy, Paimon, & Leraye!

Satan and the other Kings found here !

Sitri

Honestly, he'll hold back on sex for as long as you wanna talk for.

He listens intently, hanging on to your every word. He's taking notes in his head, jotting down names, any lore you have if you do.

Your the most important person to him after, so every word you have to say is equally important!

He adores being one of the only ones allowed to see this side of you as well.

He has such a soft, endeared smile on his face as he listens to you talk.

Even if you spend hours talking he doesn't mind! He'll let it happen.

Of course, the fact he was here for sex doesn't change, that's always in the back of his head.

And by the time you're done talking he's practically smothering you in affection anyway because of how adorable you are! So of course that leads exactly how you think it will.

And if you just happen to get flustered by said affection, well then that's even better for him! Your heart rate does increase then, after all.

Amy

He's gonna be kinda blunt about it I think. You start talking about your plushies and he's just like "Okay but I'm here to fuck."

You can give it to him right away, or you could make him wait and keep talking! It's more fun if you go that route.

Tell him he's being too impatient and he can wait a bit!! And then just go on and on and on until he can't take it anymore.

He's annoyed, but most importantly, it's kinda turning him on more.

On the other hand, he also can't deny you're cute like this.

I feel like he's the type to get cuteness aggression.

He's gonna try and start grabbing your cheeks and biting you, once again you could give in. But you could also swat him off and force him to wait longer.

If you really wanna make it worse on him through a little comment his away about how he's acting, a little degrading if you want.

Honestly with the amount of teasing you do to him and how long you make him wait, he's not retaining a single damn piece of information about those plushies.

Be careful your next steps, if you don't stay in control of the situation once you actually allow him to fuck you (which won't be hard if you're trying to dom him), he will take it back. And he's not gonna be the nicest given how frustrated he is lol.

Paimon

Oh my goodness, you're the cutest thing to him right now!!!

He's practically covering you in kisses, all giggly watching you talk!

He's bound to have a few plushies himself, he'll be sure to show them to you later.

Right now though, he's letting you do your thing. You won't succeed on telling him about every single one in one setting, but he'll listen to however many he can.

Unfortunately you won't be able to talk the more he gets worked up.

He's just thinks you're so adorable!! Eventually he's gonna snap and just start squishing and pinching your cheeks!!!

He can't control himself! He's throwing so many compliments at you and not letting go of your face and giving you kisses!!! Your head is gonna start spinning at the rate he's going.

Of course this leads back to the original reason he was here.

I wouldn't be surprised he gets cuteness aggression too lol.

So prepare for that!!! If your covered in bites after don't even be surprised.

Leraye

Hey, he has a lot of plushies too!!!

Well, they're all headless. But it's fine!!!! He cherishes them a lot still!!! Mostly because Satan was involved in the being headless part but still !!!

I think he'd be so interested in listening he'd completely forget the original reason he was here for.

I don't know how much he remembers, but he at least knows their names!!!

Honestly I think he just likes hearing you talk. Doesn't matter about what! If you're happy than he's content!!!

By the time you're done, he's just wrapping you in his arms and giving you kisses!

Like I said, he kinda forgot about sex.

It'll come back to him at some point during him kissing and cuddling you. Probably.

Definitely will if it someone starts thundering at least?

Worst comes to worst just ask him what he was here for then you're back on track! And well, maybe turn your plushies around so they won't have to witness what follows.

[jazeswhbhaven]

Can i request hcs for each of the kings (plus any nobles you want) and what they would do if you slip into bed with them because you had a nightmare?

Thank you for waiting, anon! I'm chipping away on these fluff requests and I'm loving every single one. I'd like to think most of our bois are cuddly universally, but let's take a closer look~

Nobles first this time!

Beleth: I wanted to bring him up because he never sleeps due to his insomnia. So, you go to look for him and he's sitting in his bed pretty much reading or relaxing because that's all he can do. Beleth would be worried that you aren't getting enough sleep because humans need sleep, and he'd rub your back, tell you a story, sing to you (he's a good singer), even make you warm milk or tea whatever gets you back to sleep. And you wouldn't have to worry about those nightmares coming back, he's right there sitting next to you and watching just in case.

Amon: His sleep schedule is strange too, but luckily you catch him at the right time where he's in his room and passed out for the time being. When you slip in next to him, he doesn't notice at first which is fine and you make yourself comfortable, at least being near him will help you stay calm to go back to sleep. Suddenly he throws his arms over you and pulls you in like a body pillow, murmuring in his sleep that you're safe. And he means it, it's like the nightmares stay away naturally and you both sleep pretty much for a while, uh oh it might have been an entire 24 hours of sleep.

Gamigin: Okay so, no one else is available to help you with your nightmares and Gamigin is oddly wide awake in the middle of the night for whatever reason. At least he's being quiet, his staff sitting up against the wall of his room as he greets you for coming in. He may not have a healing remedy for nightmares, but Lucifer always loved being cuddled by him when he first got here. So he offers you the same comfort. As you fall asleep you notice that his form has changed, his dragon self curled around you and his scales/fur seemingly soft and comforting to run your fingers over. There's just something so naturally calming about Gamigin when he's like this where you knock out instantly and stay asleep the entire time. He's so happy to help that he stays still the entire time and even dozes off with you.

Kings time!!!

Satan: Nightmares? Silly. There's no need to have nightmares when he's around. But he also understands because he'd never tell you, but he has them too. Various nightmares that he could never explain as they may overwhelm you. But as you sleep in his arms he promises to never let you experience what he has. You just need to sleep and be by his side right now. His hair is also very calming and fluffy, like a warm cat <3

Mammon: Assuming you weren't in bed with him already, he sits up in his bed and allows you to sleep in his lap (to avoid rolling over and accidentally crushing you) because he also gets restless. He massages your body gently, providing whatever comfort you need to ease your mind and go back to sleep. Even if it means he has to sacrifice his own sleep.

Beelzebub: What's funny is that he was the one who slipped in your bed, because he could sense it somehow that you were having a restless night. You're so surprised, it makes him laugh and pulls you close, telling you to go back to sleep and he'll keep you safe. His musk smells of lavender and chamomile, which instantly brings you back to a calm state. He did once joke with you that he could enter dreams if he wanted and you're wondering if that's true because he was in your dream the second time around. Maybe it's just coincidence.

Leviathan: Tapping on Leviathan's coffin is a certain death wish, but you can't help it if you're having nightmares. He's annoyed naturally because you woke him up and over something...wait...nightmares? If anyone understands having them, it's Levi. His irritation leaves and he pulls you into his coffin without a second thought and tells you to go back to sleep and everything will be fine. He links his legs with yours and holds hands allowing your head to rest on his bare chest as the both of you sleep this way. You can agree this was possibly the best you've ever slept in a while.

Lucifer: Nightmares are a natural thing that humans experience, there's really no "cure" for it other than therapy and other things to help one soothe. There's something special he can do though, which he used to do time to time as angel in Heaven. As you sleep, he presses his finger tips against your forehead and small beam of light transfers to you. Your sleep is so light and airy, like you're floating in a valley of a cloudless sky and shallow waters. He holds you in his arms the entire night, and it's so blissful you almost don't want to wake up. He doesn't do this often though because sometimes that's exactly what ends up happening. But at least you don't have nightmares anymore.

Belphegor: At first, he didn't wake up at all to you slipping in bed next to him. His soft snores are cute, and that drool on his pillow is so typical. But it's not like he doesn't know you're there, he's just not acknowledging it. Belphie flops his limbs lazily onto you, and mumbles for you to come closer cause he's "cold". You are now trapped in his embrace and he's like a damn brick the way he doesn't move. But his little snores are like tiny vibrations, lulling you back to sleep and there's a bonus, Beleth finally being able to sleep comes in with you too and crawls in bed. Now you're sandwiched.

Asmodeus: What's funny(or not), is that he was in your nightmare. The details of that nightmare? Who cares, you're confronting him about it. He expected you, and says that maybe you shouldn't ignore his texts and he wouldn't have to bother you in your sleep. But he forgives you, and welcomes to cuddle you...well...after you have some make-up sex so he can apologize for the nightmare. Although he isn't the one for aftercare, you're knocked out after the sex anyway, and you look so cute sleeping, thankfully you don't wake up when he's rubbing one out by watching you sleep.

[wannabanauthor]

Tim Minear, here's a hint for you:

For BuckTommy, you don't even have to get them back together as a couple immediately.

You can bring Tommy back to give Buck some closure, and Buck can suggest they just be friends because he misses Tommy's company.

So they still hang out with each other and Eddie, and Buck finally feels ready to start dating again. He doesn't mention it to Tommy, but maybe one day someone lets something slip about Buck going on a great date with this amazing guy, and Tommy overhears it.

Since he broke up with Buck, he knows he can't really question Buck about it, but it still irks him for the very obvious reason that he's still in love with Buck but doesn't think it's fair to ask for a second chance after breaking Buck's heart.

But the slight twist is that Buck is genuine friends with the new guy he's dating, and they like to sleep together on occasion, but it's not an actual romantic relationship. Neither one of them are looking for something serious, but they enjoy each other's company. However, that's their own private business, so Buck hasn't told anyone else the details of his situation. He just allows everyone to believe he's dating.

He knows Tommy will find out eventually, but he doesn't want to tell him or bring it up because it'd be awkward.

Tommy is noticeably irritated and a little curt with Buck on the inside, but he maintains his mask perfectly so that Buck never catches on.

Until one night, they're about to leave for a movie, but Buck's "friend" calls and Buck has to cancel his plans with Tommy.

Tommy leaves, very upset and irritated, but he doesn't even make it to his car before he turns around goes back up to Buck's loft. He knows that nothing is official with Buck's friend, so he knocks on the door, and Buck answers it.

Tommy kisses him hard and closes the door behind him. Buck is in shock, much like the first time Tommy kissed Buck.

Tommy then just lets it all out. He tells Buck that he loves him and misses him, and he hates himself for ending things the way they did and for breaking both of their hearts. He says he thought he could handle Buck dating again, but he can't. He's still in love with him and wants him back. He's willing to do anything: seek counseling, starting over, even moving in with Buck on a trial run basis.

Buck starts crying and releases all the emotions/thoughts he's had/felt since Tommy broke up with him. He's angry, rightfully so, that Tommy hurt him and that it took seeing another man in Buck's life for Tommy to make a move. He asks why Tommy waited until now to really say anything. He talks extensively of all the ways Tommy hurt him when they broke up.

Then his final questions for Tommy are "Why now? Why are you willing to make an effort now and not months ago? Do you actually see a future with me? Or are you scared of being alone if I move on?"

Tommy confesses that he's always wanted a future with Buck, but he's scared of getting hurt again. But he acknowledges that Buck is not at fault for the way past partners have treated him, and he should have stayed and talked things over with Buck instead of ending things and walking away.

Buck kisses Tommy and says he misses him and loves him too. Tommy wipes away Buck's tears and kisses him again and again.

After a few smooches, Buck pulls back and clarifies that he's still angry and hurt over the breakup, but he wants to work through it. Tommy promises not to run away like that again, or at the very least tell Buck when he needs space to think something over before making a decision.

Then they work on their relationship until enough time has passed for them to be happily ever after.

Tim Minear, this storyline alone could last you a couple seasons since Tommy is a guest recurring character.

I'm throwing you a lifeline here, so take it and make something with it. Do what white men are known for and steal this idea and make it yours. Come on, you can do it. Prove to folks that you're not just a mediocre white man who skated by on privilege instead of talent.

Because the queer people of color in this fandom are doing a better job of explaining your mess than you are.

That is all.

[dunmeshistash]

Greetings, Mr. Meshi!

This is perhaps a bit of an unorthodox question, but one that has been bothering me for an unreasonable amount of time.

Now, here's the thing: I OBSESS over Marcille outliving everyone she holds dear. It's a theme very close to me, but even beyond that I just find it to be one of the most interesting elements of Dungeon Meshi's story for me personally. I've written an embarrassing amount of lengthy essays on it that will never see the light of day - that's how obsessed I am over this specific element of her character. But, there's something that bothers me...

A lot of poignant stories and artworks that tackle this topic get comments on 'em whenever Falin is the subject of aging, each one some variation of "Everything points to Falin having an extended lifespan after her revival!" which... Seems weird to me?

I don't know why this bothers me so much, but setting aside my personal annoyances, I don't remember anything pointing to this at all. At least, nothing concrete.

I don't know if this is a question you'd want to answer or not, but since your blog is a hub for all sorts of opinions and headcanons, I'd love to know where this line of thought could originate from.

I really wouldn't blame you if you didn't answer this question, though. Part of me feels I'm just asking this because I want to see if others share in my confusion or not.

Rrrregardless, though! Lemme take the opportunity to say that your blog is delighful. Love it! Also, that mushroom man with the funny face that sometimes responds to you with lengthy essays is also really cool. Everyone is cool. At least here on the northern hemisphere! It is smack dab in the middle of fall, after all! Coolness all around! Stay frosty! Or don't! Maybe warm up at a fireplace. I don't know!

Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I love reading other's opinions on what I post so I also love the additions by the mushroom <3

It's quite hot over here in northeast Brazil, send some coolness my way please I'm dying.

Your question isn't strange at all! And I don't mind answering anything (unless it's rude or sounds like shipping war bait) so don't worry.

(Decided to put the rest under a readmore, TLDR: Kui said "maybe so, right?" about Falin having a longer lifespan but I have arguments why I don't think this actually confirms it. Anyway if you're someone who likes the headcanon you might want to skip this post)

To be honest those type of comments bother me too because I also LOVE Marcille's struggle with mortality and sometimes "Falin will live much longer!" feels undermining of the lesson she had to learn. I don't mind it in the headcanon sphere where everything is allowed and happy endings grow on trees but when it becomes intertwined with canon it starts to make me a little disappointed.

Just a reminder of the lesson she has to learn

She has to come to terms with the cycle of life and death, that something she wants (everyone to live longer) shouldn't be forced upon others just because it causes her grief. So, to me at least, Falin being made into something that will end up outliving other tallmen would undermine the message? In a canon sense ofc, if you're writing a wish fulfillment story then her living longer would have a different meaning, I just wanna be clear I have nothing against it in that sense, it all depends on what story you're trying to tell.

Anyway, actually answering your question that idea comes from the fact she was fused to a Red Dragon, and the fact her body has been affected by it, her sight was fixed and she grows feathers for example, so people theorize maybe her lifespan has been affected too. But we don't really know how long dragon's live so it's hard to say how much it would have been affected if at all.

It also comes from this answer Kui gave in a QnA

Q: Would Falin have an extended lifespan after the whole chimera thing? A: Maybe so, right?

To me this reads as the usual non-answers Kui gives, like, "I'll leave it up to your imagination" but for other people this read as a confirmation of the headcanon, in another questions she answers "I hope so" about Thistle leading a happy life after having his desires eaten and it's even debatable if Thistle survived at all so I don't think those comments indicate much of canon (I'm that way about most QnA answers tbh, unless it's something inconsequential like confirming Mithrun's Brother's name or stuff about very minor characters)

Another argument I have against her having a different lifespan is Izutsumi, Izu has been mixed with a monster but continues to age at the same rate a Tallmen would, even tho she also has different biology because of the Great Cat she's fused with (ears, reflexes, eyes etc etc) she is still a tallman

Falin isn't really the same thing as Izutsumi tho, I understand, but it's the closest example we have, if we believe the AB descriptions and demi-humans are really mixes between humans and monsters that's also another argument about it not affecting lifespan, since all of them are short lived and have an average lifespan of 55.

All of this *can* be dissmissed tho, the other demi-humans and beastmen are all mixed with mammal monsters and nothing nearly as powerful as a Dragon, so there is arguments to be made that Falin is different and that she *might* have an extended lifespan, all I'm saying is that there's no solid confirmation of it, it's fine to believe it but going around "correcting" other people saying it's a fact wouldn't be right I don't think, especially if you're saying that in a conversation about Marcille journey of death acceptance.

Death is a touchy subject and everyone is at different stages of their own journeys with it so I really don't want to judge those who would rather have Falin or even Laios live longer. I'm not really sure how to talk about this in the proper way, but I hope I didn't make anyone upset!

[bianca-mii]

Paul & Richard❤️

We all love pictures with our fav guitarists kissing or hugging, but I'd like to share some other, slightly less popular photos I find something truly special about:)

Here they look SO MUCH alike. Almost like the same person one frame later. They're wearing matching outfits - black pants with extra belts, black jerseys, sleeves (Richard's a little longer and with red element, but with the red lighting on Paul too it's not much of a difference). They are in almost identical positions with the left leg on Richard's podium, their guitars are in a position in which you can't tell they're different, and most of all - they're rocking the same beautiful smile of pure joy of playing together.

They look SO happy here. I don't know if it was raining (looks a little bit like it), but they don't seem to be bothered at all, they're so much like we don't care, the world is ours!

Again extremely happy guitarists. Here not so much in the world is ours mode, more like the one is the entire world for the other. And nothing else matters...

Now grumpy guitarists for a change. This pic makes me laugh so much. Aww babes, who stole your morning coffee? They BOTH look in such a bitchy mood:D

This photo has such a strong bride and groom vibe. Only Schneider as the priest is missing;)

That's probably only an illusion, but I got the feeling Paul shows a thumbs up while Richard is just about show s thumbs down. Also Paul is visibly pleased, while Richard has rather a scowl on his face. Would make a perfect picture for Richard's words "when I'm like NO, he always goes YES".

Here with those little smiles they look like two schoolgirls gossiping during the break:D Richard obviously smoking, standing on a little stair (I saw the fuller version of this pic but can't find it now:( ), Paul standing on the ground. I've noticed a few times that when they stand next to each other, Paul tries to make himself smaller, as if he didn't want Richard to cone across as barely any taller than him. Also, they both seem to have their mouths open, I wonder how they decide which one talks and which is forced to listen at the moment. Paul probably has it easier because Richard has to take drags of his cigarette:D

Guitarists in black with fans (there was a lady, similar age as the man in between, next to Richard, but I cut her off, sorry😶). I don't know where it's from, but I remember there was no other R+ bandmembers. Perhaps the guitarists flying somewhere together, just the two of them?😇

Such an interesting shot. There's something about their faces that makes them even more attractive when you see them next to each other like this. They really are the match made in heaven...

Ok, no Richard here, but that enhanced super charming smile was for him - Paul looked exactly where his fellow guitarist was sitting. I wish we could see Richard's face at this very moment too...

Edit: I remember no credits whatsoever, I'm really sorry;( please contact for credit if you're the author!

Also, only 10 pics because tumblt doesn't allow more in a post:(

[midnight-mourning]

RESTART

My submission for an angst event, and I'm gunning for the win /j

For real though, had a lot of fun writing this! It's based on my promptober day 29 response, though you don't have to read it to get the jist, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2,998

☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙

You double check that there's no one around, and sit back down on the box you were previously moping on. In particular, backstage. Sun wasn't likely to look for you here, not liking to leave the Daycare and all that. Though, he had been getting more comfortable with it lately, which meant you'd have to start finding more hiding places. 

You stare down at your hand, you'd come to accept it as that now. It works just like your original, it flexes, bends, grips just the same. It's just pure white, and completely mechanical now. 

The rest of your body functions relatively similar to how it did before, too. At least, you think it does. You'd like to say it's because you've lost track of time since the incident that you can't tell. In reality, you know it's been seven months, 19 days, 21 hours, and 7, 8, 9-god, you still struggle with getting that to quit. 

No, it's just that you've been like this so long, you don't know what it feels like to be human anymore. Your thoughts are still human, that much you're sure of. Sun doesn't think like you do, from what you understand. He doesn't like to talk about it much, he doesn't like to talk about what happened at all, frankly. 

You get it, he feels ashamed, blames himself for it. But still, you don't think it's fair that you can't even acknowledge how much has changed. Your entire life is here now. You can't never leave the Plex, never go home again. You're stuck here, forever, it seems. 

You want to say that you tried harder to find a way to, fix this? move past it? you don't know. But you didn't. You didn't try to contact your friends, your family, anyone. You just, accepted it. What choice did you have? Besides, as far as you knew, nobody seemed to notice you were missing, so you guess it wouldn't have mattered in the first place.

You sigh, and then laugh at the sound. Your voice is hardly still your own, the metallic ring always noticeable to you despite your best efforts to ignore it. 

To Sun's credit, he had tried his best to make this entire ordeal as comfortable for you as possible. 

No Moon, that much had been established. You think he was also afraid of what the naptime attendant was capable of, if he could so effortlessly kill murder destroy harm you, without a second thought. Though, you were surprised to find that Moon did avoid you when the lights went out from time to time-not nearly as often as before, you're still trying to determine how Sun managed that one-not even sparing a passing glance. 

Additionally, you had your own space, in their room, that is. Still, you treasured the area where you could put a bed, books, and other such items that you no longer had a need for-but they helped. They helped. 

And, while reluctant, Sun allowed you time to yourself when you needed it. You could tell that despite all your reassurances, and the amount of time that had passed, he was still concerned about you potentially, having a glitch, as he called it. You called what happened when you first woke up like this a psychotic break, but you digress. 

Regardless, if you weren't running errands, or helping out in the Daycare, you typically chose to be by yourself. Far away from the place. You could tell it upset him, but to be honest, it was hard to be in there 24/7, you don't know how he did it. 

Besides the obvious fact of the matter that you'd died there, it was just too much. He was just too much. 

The music, the noise, kids running around, screaming, crying. Now that you were a bot, they didn't treat you nearly as nicely. You got beat up on, a lot. More than once having to have Sun patch you up or repair you after a long day. 

And Sun. You, at one point, you think you had loved him. Loved Moon. But that had been a long time ago now. Before this. 

And it wasn't even that you couldn't feel the emotion anymore, or hell, even because of what happened. 

You just, you'd grown hollow. Maybe it was because seeing each other all day every single day got to you. Maybe it was because of his constant attempts to get you to engage, doing crafts together, watching movies together, playing games together. Even a few times where you went out in the Plex on these little 'dates' because that's what they were, no need to pretend. 

Maybe that's what it was, all this, pretending. He always just wanted to move on, have everything okay without putting the effort into making it okay. 

You don't know anymore. But what's new?

You lean back against the wall, eyes closing. Even like this, you still have that damn interface pulled up, unavoidable with its synoptics of your system. 

You see there's a notification in your messages. Opening it, you're unsurprised to find it's one from Sun. 

'Starshine! You've been gone for a bit now, everything alright?'

You answer shortly after reading, 'Fine. Just taking some quiet time.

Doing that meditation thing you suggested.' An obvious lie to you, but he buys it. He always does. 

'Oh! I'll leave you be then. I knew it would be just the thing to help :)'

You scoff, opening your eyes and shaking your head. Resentful. You've grown resentful. And that, that makes you feel ashamed more than anything. 

You send back a quick reply, ':)'

It wasn't his fault. You know it wasn't. You called it 'the incident' but you truly don't believe it had been intentional. Though any attempts at an explanation were shut down immediately. And not in the same, nervous way every other similar discussion was. This was a firm 'No' with no exceptions. 

Whatever had happened to Moon to cause him to act that way, it seemed to scare Sun badly enough that he'd even snapped at you one time. 

"Sunshine, I won't tell you again," Sun warns, "We're not talking about it. It doesn't matter. Moon is fine. Okay?" He shakes his head, "He's just, not feeling so well these days. But I have it under control, do you understand?"

You'd been taken aback by his tone. Too, shocked, and honestly a bit frightened, that he'd lashed out at you like that to say anything. 

He sighs, coming over to where you stand. He hesitates to put his hands on your shoulders when you flinch, and instead clasps them in front of him. 

"I don't mean to sound harsh, Love, but it's for the best if we just drop it. Please."

You find yourself nodding, muttering a quiet "Okay."

"I'm sorry," This time he does initiate contact, pulling you into a tight hug. He doesn't tower over you quite as much now, so it's not as awkward as it used to be. 

"You know I love you, right?" He asks in the quiet, voice low. 

You hum, "I know."

He seems to be waiting. If you still could do so, you'd be biting your cheek to steel yourself. 

"I love you too," You say after a moment or so. 

Sun pulls back, and leans down. Your faces touch and there's a brief, soft, static between the two of you until he stops kissing you. 

"I mean it. I love you. More than you know."

Even though you can't return the feeling, you didn't doubt that he meant it. 

The memory replay is interrupted when you hear voices off in the distance.

That was another thing about this new body of yours, all of your senses were heightened to a degree that was borderline uncomfortable.

You double check your location is undetectable-something Bonnie had taught you early on-and listen in. You weren't a snoop, but sometimes you needed help passing the time. And this was one such example. 

"I just don't know what else to do, Freddy," Sun's voice, you'd know it anywhere, "I've tried everything! I don't know what it will take for things to just..."

Freddy's tone is soft, encouraging, "Just what, Sun?"

"Go back to normal? I, I know it can't be like it was, then, before, but, but surely I can get their old self to shine through again, right?"

You realize they're getting closer to your spot. Shit. You need to hide. 

Quickly, you duck behind another stack of crates, pressing yourself snugly behind them. 

Just in time for Freddy's voice to become clearer as they walk backstage, "I'm afraid it's not that simple, my friend. You still haven't told them the full story, have you?"

You peek just slightly out from your hiding spot, able to just see the two bots standing not far from you.

"N-no. But, I'm going to! I swear I will. I just, I need more time," Sun's hands grip his rays, "I have to win them over again first. That way, that way it won't hurt as much."

Freddy seems to want to say something, but doesn't. 

Instead he puts a hand on the taller bot's shoulder and smiles, "I know you'll do the right thing, Sun. Now, I believe Monty has challenged Roxy to an arm wrestling contest, would you like to join?"

"I would! But, I'm afraid I lack the skills nor the strength to participate myself."

They walk off then, chatting happily, but the conversation sticks with you. What did Freddy mean by full story? What did he know that you didn't about your own, demise. 

A message pops up in the corner of your vison. You expect it to be from Sun, inviting you to watch the match. 

It's from Moon.

You're... more than just surprised. You hesitate, but end up opening it. 

'I can tell you the truth.

If you'd like.'

You panic, you swore your location had been off, you know it had. 

You play dumb, '?

What are you talking about?'

'I wasn't with him, I just happened to notice your signal in the system coincidentally at the same time.

He doesn't know you were there, if you're worried about it.'

'How can you do that?'

'Does it matter?

Do you want to know or not?'

'I shouldn't even be talking to you. I don't want to be talking to you.'

'Aw, still upset are we?

I don't blame you, but I think once you have the full picture, that may change.'

You don't answer, sitting back and looking up to the ceiling. You're debating. You want nothing to do with Moon, especially because he doesn't even seem the least bit remorseful, which, hurts more than you'd care to admit, but still. You do want to know what happened. You want the truth. 

And god do you want someone to talk to. Really talk to. About your death, and just in general.

'Fine. Tell me.'

'Not like this. Later. When he's busy.' 

'He's not busy now?'

'When I'm in control.'

'Why? What's that have to do with anything?'

'It's more fun that way.'

Seems despite everything, he's still got that same cheeky personality. 

'Alright. Give me and time and a place and I'll be there.'

Once that's sorted, you exit your hiding space, going to join in the festivities briefly with the other bots. You'd say it was difficult to pretend everything was fine, but that'd just be lying in and of itself. You try to have fun, at least. Afterall, as far as you can tell it's only Sun and Freddy hiding things from you. 

Right?

When the lights go out in the Daycare, Moon doesn't approach you immediately. Instead, he heads out for his usual patrol. About ten minutes later, you receive a message. 

'Catwalks above Monty Golf.'

You take that as your cue, and head that way. Upon arrival, you spy Moon juggling several golf balls to amuse himself. When he sees you he stops, catching them one by one. 

Something stirs in you, and you clap. He seems surprised at this, but bows anyway. The moment takes you back to-you shake your head, everything is different now, and dwelling on the past won't change that. 

"Alright, let's hear it," You keep your distance, leaning against the railing out of his reach. 

You don't think he'd hurt you, but you'd thought that back then, too. 

Moon notices your choice it seems, and chuckles, "I don't bite, Star."

You stay firm, his eyes narrow at this. 

"It's better to show you than it is to say, and for that, you need to come closer."

"And if I don't?" You cross your arms.

He tsks, "Then you won't get the full story. And that's what you want, isn't it?"

You pause. 

"I won't harm you. Not this time. I promise."

You scoff then, "You've made a lot of promises, Moon-man," You curse yourself for letting the nickname slip, "What proof do I have that you'll keep this one?"

"You don't. But he's also made promises, don't you want to know which one's he's kept?"

If you could, you'd be biting your lip right now. 

"He has everything to gain from lying to you. I do not," He holds out his hand, "What's your choice?"

You consider your options, but you'd already made your choice before showing up here. 

You take his offer, hand resting on top of his, "You break this trust, and you'll regret it."

His hand grips yours and you're suddenly spun around and then lowered into a dip, Moon's other hand on your back to secure you.

"I wouldn't dream of it," He leans in, and as he grows closer you swear there's a flash of purple in his optics, "Now hold still, and watch."

Your vison glitches, and you're no longer on the catwalks. Instead, you're standing in the hallway outside the Attendants' room. Inside, you hear an argument occurring. 

Before you can do anything else, a hand rests on your shoulder. You glance up to see Moon. He puts a finger to his smile, then leans over you and cracks the door slightly. 

Inside, you can see Sun pacing back and forth, and another Moon? Sitting on the dresser. One leg swinging back and forth as he watches the fretting playtime attendant. You take note that there's, an air of static around him. Causing a hazy effect around his entire, otherwise relaxed, form. 

"What do we do, what do we do?" He asks, hands gripping his rays, "They're leaving, they're leaving and they're never going to come back."

Other Moon rests his head in his hand, "They just mentioned potentially moving divisions. It's not for certain, and they'd still be around even if that was the case."

"But they want to go, Moonie. They'd rather a different job than working with us. Do they hate us that much?"

A shrug, "I thought the kisses I got the other night proved otherwise, but maybe I'm misinterpreting."

Sun makes a noise of frustration, "You're no help with anything anymore! Ever since you-"

"Ever since what?" Moon growls, and his visage grows darker, the entire room darkening and glitching.

Sun cowers, putting his hands up and things return to normal, "Since you're, upgrade, you've been, less than supportive, to put it plainly."

Another shrug, Sun goes back to pacing. At that moment, other Moon seems to notice you and waves cheekily, but says nothing. 

His counterpart suddenly stops his movement. 

"What if, what if they, couldn't, leave?"

"You're going to make them stay in a job they hate?" Moon tsks, "How selfish, Sunny."

"Yes, but no, I-" Sun hesitates, really, hesitates. 

This piques other Moon's interest, he sits up a bit, "Go on then, I'm on the edge of my seat."

"What if, what if something happened to them, that made it so they had to stay... Forever?"

Moon pauses, then chuckles, "You're not suggesting what I think you are, are you, Sun?"

"It's for the best," Sun argues, seemingly mostly with himself, "They're not thinking straight. This would, this would help. And then, we'd never have to worry about them leaving ever again."

Moon stands, walking over and putting a hand on the playtime attendant's shoulder, "You can't take this back, you know. There's no do-overs, no fixing things. This is final."

"I know," Sun nods, "And you can, take care of it?"

The edges of the room shift again as Moon snickers, "Can't do your own dirty work, Sunny?"

"You say that as if it doesn't benefit both of us," He mutters. 

"It won't. Not for a while. You can't change their memories, they'll know what happened. It's just the cause that will be, murky."

Sun shakes his head, "They'll never know. I'll make certain of it."

"Are you sure about that?" Other Moon asks, and points to the door where you stand, partially visible. 

Sun's eyes widen, and the world around you starts to crumble. 

With a gasp, you find yourself back on the catwalks, stumbling away from Moon. 

You're shaking, and your system starts sending warning signs of an overload. 

You hear a click. 

Looking up, you see that Moon's reached over to a nearby switch, and the light's start to come on one by one. 

"Good luck~" He snickers, bowing one final time as rays start to pop out from his faceplate. 

Sun's face snaps to yours, immediately starting to walk towards you, hands up, "Starlight, you have to listen to me-"

You can't. You won't. And you don't get a further choice in the matter, either. 

In your haste to get away, you stumble back against the railing. And panicking, trip, and tip backwards. Sun reaches out for you, but it's too late, you're falling. You're about to go through so much pain all over again, and all you can think, the only word you can see, is 'LIAR'.

LIAR. LIAR. LIAR.

☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙

Aw, what a fun twist! Oh, but bummer for you though, yikes, sorry about that one :/ Anywho, thanks for reading!

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@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

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If you want to be added to the tag list, or check out my other stuff, see this post here for more information, bye!

[mirai-e-jump]

BoyAge Vol.25 ft. Chinen Hidekazu (other pages and translation below)

Publication: November 11, 2024

Chinen Hidekazu-kun, who currently plays the role of Shouma in "Kamen Rider Gavv," makes his first appearance in BoyAge! During the interview, Chinen-kun's genuine kindness and personality was overflowing. Make sure to also check out his mature styling in the beautiful gravure!

Miraculous Encounters

"We'd like to hear about these "miraculous encounters" of yours."

Chinen: I believe I'm here now because of many miracles. First, becoming a Kamen Rider was the greatest miracle. I hadn't done any entertainment activities, but I came to Tokyo from Okinawa saying, "I want to become a Kamen Rider!," and not even a year later, I participated in my first Kamen Rider audition. I think it was an amazing miracle that that's where I was chosen, and I even shocked myself. Then there's the bonds I've made with people. Ever since I was a child, I've been blessed with the teachers and friends that surrounded me at school. Along with everyone affiliated with my agency, all the Rider staff, including the Directors and Producers, understand my traits and are trying to help me grow. I've been blessed by so many people, that I'm confident in saying that I'm a "miracle man."

"Do you ever feel afraid because these miracles are progressing without a hitch?"

Chinen: "Afraid" is certainly one way to describe it, but…..Maybe it's because of all the things I've done up until now? I was told from an early age to "practice good in secret," so perhaps luck is on my side.

"Is that like good deeds that are done without anyone knowing?"

Chinen: Right. That's why it's not something I tell people, but as an example, if flowers on the road were drooping, I'd stop to straighten them up, even if I was in the middle of a run. When I throw away worn out products like a toothbrush, I say "thank you" to it out loud. Because it's such a rare thing, people ask me, "You're still doing that at your age?" (laughs), but it's become a normal thing for me. Sometimes people think it's strange that I talk to flowers, but I think that's also part of my identity. I'm not embarrassed about it, as I do it with confidence.

"Is that something your parents taught you?"

Chinen: Yes! My parents were incredibly strict, as they only allowed me to eat sweets on weekends. The first time I went to a fast food restaurant was when I was in middle school. I haven't walked down any of the "paths" that everyone around me has taken. Shouma, the character I'm currently playing in Kamen Rider Gavv, also came to the human world from another world, so I can relate to his fresh approach to everything.

"You weren't unhappy as a child?"

Chinen: No, that's just how things normally were, but in exchange, I was allowed to do whatever I liked. I was also doing five extracurricular activities at the same time. They didn't buy me gaming consoles or a smartphone, but I now think that it was a good thing. I was able to become interested in alot of things because of that, and in this era of information overload, everything is convenient, but sometimes that makes me feel lonely because of the distance between me and others. And of all the activities I took on, I'm especially grateful for karate, as I'm using it in the action scenes in Kamen Rider.

"How long did you practice karate?"

Chinen: I did it for 4 years, from my third to sixth year in elementary school. I was doing full contact karate, where you can seriously strike your opponent, but I was so small at the time, that I was weak enough to be beaten by girls (laughs). However, there were also advancement tests, and I could actually feel that the more I did them, the better I got, so it was worth doing. Then one day I decided, "I want to play badminton," and so I quit and became devoted to badminton starting from middle school.

"You had so many things you wanted to do (laughs)."

Chinen: That's right (laughs). It's one of my weak points, but I'm interested in alot of things, so I move quickly. Acting was just something I was curious about at first, and I thought, "Ah, I want to do that," so I quit badminton, which I had been playing until my second year of high school, and during Summer vacation, I thought, "Alright, I'll go for an audition." The audition I had during that Summer vacation was the audition for my current agency.

"The gap between your enthusiasm when you start and the honesty when you stop is amazing, don't you think?"

Chinen: Yes (laughs). I was so passionate about badminton, that I thought I'd have to burn myself out before I'd stop. I was able to compete in the Inter High Championships with my seniors, who were one year above me at the time, and since I felt satisfied with things, I was able to switch directions quickly and easily.

"So once you're satisfied, it's onto the next thing, huh?"

Chinen: When I focus on one thing, I can't think of anything else. In the future, I'd like to make use of that in my acting career.

"What will you do if you feel satisfied as an actor?"

Chinen: Don't worry! Acting is something you study your whole life. It's a world with no limits, where you develop until you die, and that's what makes it so appealing, so I think I can continue to be enthusiastic about it. In addition, I can experience various occupations through my roles, so I was able to find the perfect job for myself.

"Yeah, that's good (laughs). Now then, who's the person Chinen-kun wants to meet the most right now?"

Chinen: There's a ton, but I'd like to meet my middle school teachers. Ever since I was in elementary school, I've been closer to my teachers than my friends. I'd go to the staff room or music room to talk with them during breaks. There, I'd always say, "I want to be an actor," and they'd give me encouragement by saying, "If it's Chinen, you can make it." The reason why I was attracted to this world in the first place was because if I appeared on TV, tons of people would be able to watch me through the airwaves, even if they're far away. I hope they're happy that their student is now making appearances. I think it's thanks to my teachers that I was able to enjoy a fulfilling youth. I want them to see me after all these years and see how much I've grown.

"We're sure they'd be overjoyed. Now that you're currently appearing in Gavv, and it's been half a year since filming started, do you feel more relaxed?"

Chinen: I don't have the time to say, "I'm totally OK now!," but I think I've developed alittle bit of enjoyment in my heart. At first, I had no experience, so I was the one receiving advice, but now I can ask by myself, "Can I try doing this?" Other than that, I've also expanded my interests by watching films I wouldn't normally watch as references. I'm having the most fun right now. I've found what I want to create, and I feel that I've finally reached the point where I can enjoy it. I was hesitant at first to talk to the other cast members and guest cast, but now I'm trying to talk to them myself.

"Did you feel any pressure in the beginning?"

Chinen: Yes, it's not completely gone now, but I'm still concerned about the reaction of the viewers every time a broadcast airs, and when we were filming on location in town, the neighborhood children would cheer me on and say, "Go for it, Shouma!" I'm conscious of the fact that I'm participating in a production that's supported by tons of people, so I make sure to never forget that. I'd like to create this show while keeping a certain level of tension.

"Filming a tokusatsu program is hard, isn't it?"

Chinen: I think so. Nevertheless, I spend my time thinking that everything is a positive thing for me, and that I'm living in the best environment possible. It's all been a learning experience, and I appreciate all of it, so when we reach the end, I want to be sent off with pride in my chest. I entered this world on my own because I admired it, so it doesn't bother me at all.

"How do you raise your spirits on days when things aren't going your way?"

Chinen: I think it's important to be properly let down. It'd be a waste of time if I thought, "Oh, alright," and then forgot about it a week later because I was too busy with filming. I think you'll grow faster if you really think about each and every thing and think, "I'll make sure that doesn't happen next time." So, I try to cherish the time I have alone to properly sulk. I love music, and before I started working on Rider, I was the kind of person who always had to have background music playing in my life. However, one of my seniors told me, "It's also important to take time to create silence and listen to your heart," and I thought that was a really good method to follow. I may get really depressed on a certain day, but I can reset myself after a good night's sleep, so I try not to drag it over into the next day!

"Self suggestion is also an option, huh? (laughs). Have your impressions of Shouma changed since playing him?"

Chinen: Shouma's abit different since he's from another world. In the beginning, I was conscious of making the viewers immediately think, "Huh? There's something off about this kid." Things like how only the vibes around Shouma are different. Still, as the episodes progressed, I began to think that I wanted to see Shouma as a human being and began to play him as such. I think that as the second half of the show unfolds, we'll see his humanity, and the parts of him that'll seem to be no different from everyone else's. The Director also changes every two episodes, and their approach to portraying Shouma is different from each other. There's alot of action and highlights in every episode, so I think that's one of the things that'll keep you coming back to the show.

"You mentioned earlier that "the neighborhood children would be cheering you on," but how has the response been since the broadcast started?"

Chinen: It's trending every week, so I'm beyond happy that tons of people are watching and caring about it. It seems that even the little monster toys known as Gochizou are hard to acquire. I'm really happy that there are people who watch the show, find it appealing, and want to "own it." They're so popular, that even we can't buy them (laughs).

"It's a Kamen Rider with a sweets motif. Every time we finish watching an episode, we want to eat something sweet."

Chinen: That makes me happy. I also heard that girls are watching the show because of the sweets. The visuals are also colorful and pleasing to the eyes, but there's a part of the show's story that's abit "bitter." Since the broadcast started, the atmosphere on set has changed again. We got off to a good start, so everyone's even more enthusiastic. I hope you'll continue to support us as you've been doing, and to see this through to the ending.

[inquisimail]

dai love interests' letters to the inquisitor in veilguard, if anyone was curious to see them. transcriptions in alt text & under cut

Amatus,

I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear.

I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you.

I will find you soon.

Yours, Dorian

---

My love,

You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side.

Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations.

Yours always, Thom

---

My love,

We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe.

The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can.

The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray.

Yours, Cassandra

---

Hey, Kadan,

Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!)

I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian.

Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to be just what I want to be.

And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you.

So come back safe.

Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

---

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.)

Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.")

North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker.

Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know.

We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow.

So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls!

We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.)

Still thinking of you sideways.

Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.)

The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out.

Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me.

I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why.

Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.)

You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on.

(The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.)

New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

---

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences too chewed to read.

I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible.

I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you're all right. You are— I've— There's— I wish that I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life.

The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my—I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this—

Whatever you need of me, I am yours.

Cullen

---

My Dearest Lady, / My Dearest Lord,

I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all.

The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together.

There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here.

When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes.

Always yours, Josephine

Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.