#keeps refusing to take the gems and demands to know where they are from (thinking he needs to return them); so Kae gets stressed enough to

[dutybcrne]

Imagine if Khaenri'ahn tears could solidify into crystals,,,

[absurdthirst]

Hey! I hope you’re having a nice day and don’t feel pressured to answer this, but how do you think the Pedro boys would react to having triplets? (I just learned im having two boys and one girl)

Heaven knows I’m already worried about mine with the casually offered reductions and all the talks about how difficult it’s going to be since it’s my first time. My heart goes out for the Pedro boys in less advanced universes knowing the complications that could come up.

Having Triplets:

Javier Peña: Gets drunk. Like - very drunk. Smokes an entire pack of cigarettes while he drinks. Worrying. Obsessing over the idea that he was already nervous to be responsible for one kid, but three???? He's never gonna sleep again. He's going to be grey by the time the kids are born, or bald from the stress. Once he's gotten over his hangover, he's asking questions. Demanding to know the risks and he has a fucking notebook full of questions for the doctors every time you go. Turns into the most solid father that you've ever seen.

Ezra: Speechless. For the first time since you have met the loquacious prospector, he is completely speechless. "I don't quite thing your suit's gonna be fitting you soon, little gem." His life has been one big adventure and he has just floated along. Now he will have to put that sharp mind to work to make sure that his little family has their feet firmly planted on a safe planet. Ezra will be planting roots - just don't ask him where he acquired the things he brings home for the babies.

Mando: Have you ever seen a wall of metal worry? That's what it would be like. This towering hunk of beskar would just lurk and be underfoot. Silently watching and you would wake up to any and all little luxuries that he could possibly get his hands on. The man would invest in a real bed for Maker's sake. He would even get a medical droid, putting aside his dislike for most tech to make sure you had the best help available.

Pero Tovar: Pero wonders why you are as big as a horse. (You hit him with a frying pan for saying that) When the midwife tells him that she feels more than one babe in your belly, he starts to worry. Childbirth in his days is not without risk and multiple babes are even riskier. He will start praying to God to allow the babes to born healthy and breaking his back even more to provide for the four of you.

Frankie Morales: His military training is the only goddamn thing keeping this man from having a panic attack, or a stroke. Definitely going to be getting high one last time before he flushes the coke down the toilet. If for nothing but to work out that fear without you knowing. To your face, Francisco Morales would be the most calm, rational man with dealing with the idea of triplets. He even trades in his beloved truck for a van - not a mini van, because those things drive like fucking ass - but a cargo van to haul the kids and all their shit around. He will be working himself into the ground to his get license re-instated so he can be earning more. He can't raise triplets on his retirement alone.

Agent Whiskey: In complete denial. Absolutely refuses to believe that you are having more than one baby. Like complete disassociates when it comes to that. Despite Ginger confirming it and everyone talking about the babies. He's convinced that everyone is pulling some elaborate trick on him. Right up until the moment he has baby number one in his arms and you start pushing again for the next one. Then shit gets real.

Dave York: Dave is another cool cucumber when it comes to dealing with the idea of triplets. He starts planning. Logistics is what matters. Paying for these kids. He will start taking more contracts and being away from home, but he always tries to make sure he's home for doctor's appointments. Surprisingly handy. Already put together the three cribs and started stocking up on diapers. He's changed his share before with Molly and Alice, but this time it's going to be interesting with three at the same time.

Oberyn Martell: Thrilled. He will be on the maester's ass to make sure that the births are smooth sailing for you. Multiple babies at once? He will enjoy running his hands over your swollen belly and making sure that the servants are nearby all the time so you do not have to do a thing. Spending hours with you in the water because it easy on your body with all three babies growing. Present for every moment from the moment your pains begin, until you are holding all three.

Max Phillips: Mixed feelings honestly. Three little baby biters? Pretty cool. Three sets of dirty diapers to change? Less so. Max is smarmy and cocky, but the cracks of that facade start to show when he realizes he's made three tiny little half vamp/half human beings that will need to be cared for. He might even put his little feud with Evan aside because the man has bigger fish to fry. But expect him to start offering you blood smoothies. You know, for protein.

Marcus Pike: The combination of stress and excitement inside him is like being pulled in two different directions at once. Immediately starts reading books on the subject of twins and making a detailed list of everything you need to buy. Will be making full use of his paternity leave to help you with the babies.

Marcus Moreno: It's a good goddamn thing he's a super hero. Marcus literally saves the world, so he is used to stress. There's a little bit of panic behind those rimmed Clark Kent glasses he has and he wonders if his powers was what caused this. He knew that copper IUD was a bad idea. He can only hope that Missy loves being a big sister, because she's gonna have 3 younger siblings.

Max Lord: Passes out. Literally the man faints at the news that he is going to be a father to triplets. The internal panicking that this man does rivals ten men. Nearly enough to do something stupid like wish he had the dream stone back, but not quite. You end up having to calm him down.

Zach Wellison: Gets a second job. Then a third. You practically don't see the man for nearly three weeks after being told that he's going to have triplets with you because he's working so damn much. Trying to make sure that he can buy everything you need and provide for the babies. Only starts to slow down when you remind him that you need him with you now. You don't want to do this alone. It takes him a minute to get that through his head, but he's pretty happy as soon as he gives himself a moment to be.

Dieter Bravo: FREAKS OUT. Like has a melt down as he denies it. Until he can see the ultrasound and has the three little nuggets pointed out to him. He's wide eyed and asking you if you want some of his drugs. You might need them more than him. When you decline, he takes all of them himself and starts to ask if you feel any different now. Playing with your stomach and talking to the babies as he lays out why is he upset. He's scared. Scared he's going to screw up and then it's three little people he's fucked up. Showing exactly why Dieter will end up being a good dad. Whacky as shit, but a good dad.

Javi Gutierrez: Obsessed with them. He has already been thrilled by your pregnancy and having a baby, but now that there will be three? Completely in love with the idea of built in best friends. The decorating of the nursery is now tripled and Javi just completely throws himself into it and treats you like a queen the entire time. Waits on you hand and foot and marvels over your changing body. Gets you one of those belly harnesses to make sure that you are as comfortable as you can be.

Tim Rockford: Have you ever seen the scene of a man pacing back and forth and running his hands through his hair? That's Tim. Like seriously concerned with how he is going to pay for three babies. On a detective's salary. There's going to be a lot of overtime in this man's future.

Joel Miller: What the hell can he do? Not like he can go back and unring that bell. He's panicking, his heart racing and his entire body feeling weak but he hides that from you. Does you no good and he won't have you worrying. He's fucking worried. Because this is a shit world you live in and there's a very real possibility that he will lose you and the babies. Rest assured that he will BURN THE WORLD DOWN to keep you and them safe.

🎉🎉Congratulation Anon!!! I hope that you have a smooth rest of your pregnancy and birth! Fingers crossed and good vibes being send your way!!!

[madrone33]

So, I've been re-reading the Deltora Quest books for the first time in years because my obsession with them has recently been revived (just finished Valley of the Lost), and man, I don't think I realised before just how, like, absolutely devoted Lief is to getting rid of the Shadow Lord and freeing Deltora. It's especially apparent in the first few books.

The Belt is basically all that matters to him. Not even finding the Heir is more important, honestly the heir is very much secondary to the Belt. They're just the person who will put on and activate the Belt's magic; they are a means to an end. His own life is secondary to the Belt - which isn't to say he's not afraid of dying, he really really is, but when shit gets real and it looks like this is the end, his thoughts almost always go to the Belt. Just like the heir, Lief thinks of himself as a means to an end. (Which is ironic, seeing as how he is the heir.) Lief will make the Belt, and the heir will wear the Belt, but it's the Belt itself that matters most to him. Because it's the Belt that will save them.

'Do not worry about me,' Lief whispered, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. 'Nothing matters but that we seize the gem. If I die in the attempt, it will not be your fault. You must take the Belt from my body and go on alone, as you have wished.'

I must prepare myself for death, Lief thought. But he could only think of the Belt around his waist. If he was killed here, the Belt would lie forgotten with his bones. The gems would never be restored to it. The heir to the throne of Deltora would never be found. The land would remain under the Shadow forever.

'No!' Lief cried. 'Wait!' At this moment of terror, his one thought was for the Belt of Deltora and the topaz fixed to it. If he did nothing to prevent it, this golden eyed giant would surely find the Belt after he was dead, take it from his body- and perhaps give it to Thaegan. Then Deltora would be lost to the Shadow Lord forever. I must throw the Belt over the cliff, he thought desperately. I must make sure that Barda and Jasmine see me do it. Then they will have some chance of finding it again. If only I can delay him until I can do it...

[Literally just died] Lief felt himself pulled to his feet and slung over Barda's shoulder. His head was spinning. He wanted to cry out, 'What of the crown? The opal?' But then he was that the crown was in Barda's hand.

Lief's fingers felt for the clasp of the Belt he wore under his shirt. If necessary, he would unloose it and let it fall into the mud at the bottom of the stream. It would be better for it to lie there than for it to fall into the hands of the Shadow Lord again.

And maybe it didn't really hit me when I first read them 'cause I was approximately A Child, but it's really sinking in now just how bad things have been in Deltora for the last 16 years. When they talk about slavery and fighting arenas and brandings and starvation and executions in the streets. For some reason all these human atrocities are hitting home a lot more than before. It used to be the monsters that seemed the scariest, but now I can see that yes, the monsters are horrifying and traumatising and terrifying, but Lief and Barda and Jasmine continuously choose to keep going, they willingly put themselves through hell, because the Shadow Lord is worse.

Anyway, all this to say, Deltora really couldn't ask for a more selfless and loyal King that Lief. This kid is willing to die so many times over if it means his people are safe.

(The only thing he tends to go off mission for are his friends and family, but even then, I'm thinking of that part in Isle of the Dead where Laughing Jack holds Jasmine hostage and demand the Belt in return. And Lief refuses. Because his people must come first. And he knows Jasmine would never want him to betray their land for her. Like??? So many feels.)

[triptychgrip]

Fic Rec: Power Exchange between Ace/Dom Yuuri and Allo/Sub Viktor

Back with another post-canon fic rec, this time with a gem I discovered during my recent Ace Yuuri reading kick (speaking of which, I would LOVE if you shared your favorite ace-spectrum works, too).

Note: this work contains explicit sexual content and is only available to registered Archive Of Our Own users (i.e. I am unable to link to the story itself)

In part 3 of the excellent series japan’s ace, katsuki yuuri by ao3 user FullmetalChords, after an unexpected drop-in on Viktor masturbating — an incident that Viktor feels/expresses major guilt around, not wanting Yuuri to feel that he thinks their relationship is lacking in any way just because they don’t have sex — Yuuri develops an idea around how he might be able to bring Viktor sexual pleasure without feeling pressured into doing something he doesn’t want.

I love reading Dom/sub intimacy between Yuuri and Viktor and absolutely love the way in which this fic went on to depict a perfect middle ground for allosexual Viktor and asexual Yuuri to share in a new experience together (hint: it involves vibrating sex toys with Yuuri largely being in a different room for the vast majority of the scene).

Below is an excerpt that captures the incredible care between them that this story portrays.

—

He sets down the knife, rinsing his hands before going back to the vibrator, this time slowing it way down. He’s rewarded with impatient, breathless sounds coming from the bedroom.

“Ahnn… fuck, I can’t…”

There’s a slight whump that comes from the bedroom, and Yuuri’s head snaps in its direction, unable to keep from feeling a little alarmed.

“Color, Vitya?” he asks, letting his voice carry through the doorway, finger still hovering over a button on the remote.

He hears Victor laugh, breathlessly.

“Green,” comes the immediate answer. “Ohh, green, Yuuri, green…”

Reassured by the answer, he changes the pattern of vibrations, simultaneously ramping up the speed once more. A garbled rush of Russian obscenities is the only reply he gets. It’s clear, just from listening to Victor, that he’s enjoying this immensely.

Yuuri is amazed, in fact, by how much he is enjoying this. What he feels isn’t arousal, per se, but is more of a… tender feeling. Knowing the absolute trust Victor has placed in him, that the man he’s admired, the man he’s longed for, the man he loves, is entirely at his discretion. That kind of trust is a heady responsibility, and Yuuri is honored beyond words that Victor has allowed him to have it.

—

I highly recommend the entire 4-part series, and part 1 in particular is an excellent character study of Yuuri’s feelings around his ace identity.

Below is another excerpt (from part 1) that made me melt 😭 🥰

“If I asked you to kiss me,” Yuuri says, his mouth feeling very dry all of a sudden, “would that… would that be enough?”

Victor’s eyes meet his with that warm smile Yuuri loves so much. Corners of his mouth curling up, showing off the dimples that the cameras never get to see. It’s all the answer Yuuri thinks he needs, and then Victor bends down, just slightly, to press his lips softly against Yuuri’s. It’s reverent, like Yuuri is Victor’s dearest treasure, and Yuuri thinks he might cry at the tenderness of it.

When Yuuri thinks of eros, he thinks of flames curling the edges of newspaper, consuming until nothing is left. It’s the kind of love he still has no idea what to do with, a demand where refusal only means losing it altogether. This kiss is not a demand. It doesn’t consume, doesn’t take anything Yuuri isn’t freely giving.

—

Last but not least, if you are aware that the writer (FullmetalChords) is on tumblr, please let me know; I would love to tag them in this post, but did not find any profile with that username.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

Grow Up

So I've been seeing a lot of people commenting as a reply to me about "boo hoo 40 hr work week too long" and I want to throat punch people.

First and foremost, we live in a system where you work for IOU's. That IOU is Money. Let me explain WHY you work for IOU's today.

We live in a society now where there are far more people and far more connections in today's world. Combine that with modern technology and you have more than a few issues when it comes to archaic trade and barter. We no longer live in a world where you can just farm and trade wheat for a chair and table. You can't just trade a few gems for tools. That world is LONG since past. And even if it had not, we'd be babysitting a large chunk of society.

It's a pretty basic reason why too. Only so many people can farm. Moreover, there are SO many people that have ZERO real world skills and certainly no trade skills. IE: A lot of you produce nothing of ACTUAL tangible value. And while you might be insulted by that, it's the truth. If you create content online, you do not create tangible value. You might entertain people or make them happy but that's it. It's a feeling. You create a feeling. But in the broader scheme of things what you do does not have tangible effects on the world.

And even if I look at this from a philosophical bleeding heart point of view of "UwU well actually feelings are tangible" I'd be lying. We have tried so fucking hard to make everyone, in every way feel special. Thing is? There are jobs out there that are far more important than some of the others out there. That's just a fact. (Moderate clarification here. If you are a content creator or a job that does not produce tangible value that doesn't imply your job or whatever it is has no worth. As I'm sure that will be the take away. That's not what I mean. Value vs Tangible Value are not the same. Take that however you will.)

Here is the other thing that pisses me off though. This bitching and moaning about 40-hr work weeks. Maybe you are too young to know this but back in the day work weeks were MUCH longer. This until Mr. Ford decided that he wanted to make the work week shorter for his company. He did this while not reducing the pay or benefits of the people working for him. And people might say, "Well I should be able to work LESS hours today because I'm lazy and can't time manage". I'm sorry but that's not my fault.

And before I get the "Wage slave" or "minimum wage" bullshit I'll go ahead and address that next.

Wage Slavery is what you would refer to someone who is BOUND to their job and can't get another job. Effectively an actual slave. In the US and most Western Nations you always have the ability to either get a new job, or move up in your current job. Or worst case, to work more than one job. Something that people have done for actual years prior to now. You existing in today's world does not mean that you get things handed to you on a silver platter. And what's more, you have the ability to work for what you see as what you are worth. The issue? Most of you value your work far more than it's actually worth. Because we live in several generations of entitled shits that are lazy and demand the world cater to them.

And I refuse to keep sugar coating this. Life isn't fair. It will NEVER be fair. Now to address minimum wage. Minimum Wage is now and always has been for low skill jobs. Jobs that you can get in High School or right afterwards while you are still figuring things out. M.W. is not meant to be lived off of. And this idea that "Well uhm akchewally it used to be the min needed to live well off of". No it didn't. Businesses that do well, and need people that are educated or experienced will pay you more to work for them. Like take Walmart for instance. They currently pay 13$ an hour starting. I think with POTENTIALLY only being cart pushers. And that might not even be the case because they may actually get the 13$. And while I hear you WHINE like a child that it's not enough money to live off of; You'd be wrong.

Well partly wrong. Fact is politicians on both sides at least in the US and the current sitting president have DECIMATED the economy. However if you look to California what you will see is what the disgusting nature of the Democrats looks like. What do I mean.

That would be this. Here is the kicker though. You know who got a pass on this bill? Panera. Do you know why? Because they donated 150k to his campaign. This bill also ended up costing over 10k, workers because people, mostly the ones that complain about all of this stuff don't understand jack shit about economics. Not shocked by this because most of you are lazy Marxist FUCKS. You think people should be slaves to YOU and what you want. You demand other peoples labor as if it's YOUR right. It's not. And the Gov pushing for higher wages don't make people's lives better. It makes them worse.

Because it puts the bar for starting a small business so fucking high that it's near impossible to do. All it would do is create a system in which only the exceptionally rich are able to start businesses. IE: Corporatism. Wages being controlled by the state more or less makes it so that businesses will ONLY hire the VERY best people. No interns. No way to come in and learn. You would be a burden on their system when all they are trying to do is pay to run their business.

Stop working Min-Wage jobs. Start looking for higher paying jobs or go into jobs with the intent to move upward in those jobs. Take on more responsibilities. Work later hours if you have to. Stop relying on big daddy gov to do everything for you. They are not and SHOULD not be your babysitter. You see that they screw up most EVERYTHING and you want them to ruin more shit? Sure hand them more power let's see how that pans out for us. Watch as the rich flee from the country and we end up with less and less jobs in the US. Also let me address one last thing. 40 hrs a week is basically nothing. That's 8 hrs a day, out of a total of 24 hrs in a day. Meaning probably 2 days off. But also what is 40 hours a week? 168 hours exist in a week. And most jobs offer vacation time AND benefits. Benefits you would pay much more for if you didn't get it through subsidy of your company. That factors into your wages.

But the reason this post is called GROW UP is because I'm tired of you fucking CHILDREN worshiping systems like Marxism (Communism and Socialism) when if you were ever put under those systems you'd be slaves TO those systems like everyone else. And you are too indoctrinated to realize it. Economics is actually a relatively easy thing to grasp if you start learning about it. Most people don't care to learn about it though. They just want to whine.

Finally the last point I will cover is one I have made posts about on their own. Minimum Wage and Minimum Living Wage are NOT the same thing and never were the same. Minimum wage is the least amount that the USG says a business is allowed to pay you. You a US citizen. (They can pay illegals less but that's not the point of this post......LOOKING AT YOU TYSON) Minimum living wage is a joke of a concept because you can't gauge it. Because no two people have the same amount of bills.

What's more, there's a bigger issue in the fact that rent isn't the same in any two places. Car prices are not identical between same year cars. Phone plans are not created equal. Some people have kids. Some have spouses. Minimum Living Wage is a fucking gimik. Because that number is not only different from person to person but from city to city and from state to state. Legislating it would not just be impossible but it would make our system as a whole crumble.

Because imagine that you decide to move into the most expensive houses that you can, get the most expensive everything else, keep your lights on all day and your water running. Why should your company have to pay for that? They shouldn't. Because that's you taking advantage of them. AND what's even funnier is the fact that they would ONLY hire people in the WORST and cheapest accommodations and avoid hiring people in more expensive places with higher bills. IF by some way it was able to be legislated. Which it can't be.

It takes minimal thought to get through all of what I just went through. VERY little critical thinking is needed to get this far. Sure things back in the day were cheaper and yes you could live off one person's wages. Except the moment that women got equal rights to work and legislation started being pushed to make sure the workforce pushed them into jobs you lost that right. Is this me shitting on women's rights to work? No. This is me making a statement of fact that the west got duped. Effectively, 50% of the population of the US was not being Taxed. Who do you think actually benefited most from women's equal rights to work? The IRS and the USG. We expanded the US workforce from 50% of the population the 100% in the span of a month. The market could not compensate. And frankly speaking with the intake of massive amounts of illegals into the US it STILL can't.

People seem to think that everything "Progressive" is a great idea but they never think through the unintended consequences of pushing certain things. Women can be self sufficient now and that's awesome. Sadly that comes at a cost. The cost being that there aren't enough jobs to go around in some instances, and the fact that prices actually have to go up to compensate for that hit to the market. Prices going up after the 1980's make sense for that reason.

Critical thinking is a skill. And not everything is just "Corporate Greed" or "Sexism" or "Racism". Sometime things are just a result of changes in culture. This is a change that everyone today seems to mostly endorse, so guess what? You will never again be able to live off of one income unless it's over 80k and you pinch pennies. Or unless you make 100k and make sure to invest in things and monitor you money. Or you could live in places with lower living costs, but most of you don't care to do that because you'd rather just bitch until the place you live changes for you.

The real world doesn't work like that. You are not wage slaves. 40 Hours a week isn't long. Kindly get your head out of your asses.

@capitalism-and-analytics Feel free to gloss over this and add anything even if you do or don't agree.

[impulsedecisiongobrrrr]

More StormPetals!!

The fact that Pipp followed a bunch of strangers she has heard Only Bad Things about because her big sibling said 'I think it's worth it. Please come with us.' (granted the both of them were under pressure and it was either Go or Risk Getting Arrested, but like she didn't HAVE to stay with the group) She's scared and she was just humiliated on live TV and even though Zipp completely left her hanging, she still goes to her big sibling 'cause that's who she wants to be near when everything is falling apart. She's angry and upset, but she makes a point not to leave her sibling hanging by bringing that stupid gem with her when she demands an explanation. She loves her big sibling, she refuses to believe Zipp would do something so hurtful without a damn good reason. She's known Zipp her whole life, and right now Zipp is all she has and She Will Not Just Quietly Let Her Go.

Zipp marvelling privately to herself at how Pipp can do Any Of The Things She Does. How she can live such a public life, how she can be so classically emphatically princesslike as though she was just born that way and enjoy it, how she can keep up appearances so well and go with this lie their family has been keeping up for generations. Zipp sees Pipp and she sees this fluttery soft ball of feathers and sparkles, but she also sees herself. She sees her own determination and conviction, but what Pipp is determined and convicted to do is be the Model Princess. To be the person that lifts the spirits of those around her and inspires them to comfort and love and assures them nothing is wrong, everything's okay, you are wonderful and I appreciate you. It just makes Zipp so weak to think about and she almost doesn't know what to do with herself over it.

The way Zipp brings out the imperious uncompromising bits of Pipp and Pipp brings out the delicate soothing bits of Zipp. The way they're irrevocably connected to eachother. Even the feathers of their wings contrast and they don't seem like they could possibly be related at first glace, but they look at one another and there's unconditional trust and an unbreakable connection that cannot possibly come from anyone but two people who call one another 'sister'.

Zipp placing a little sticker over top of Pipp's camera lens when they sneak off for a date because she knows Pipp compulsively posts Everything and cannot keep a single thing to herself, so the best solution is to just tell her not to say where they're going and keep her from taking pictures in case someone decides to triangulate their location to mob Pipp for parasocial attention or something. Pipp bringing Zipp breakfast in bed because she knows Zipp can't wake up early enough to eat a proper breakfast before the day goes into full swing to save her life, and she knows Zipp is always in a better mood when she brings a quiche and good morning kisses to her.

I could go on, but that's plenty of paragraphs I think,,,,,,

[yandere-daydreams]

Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys.

Characters: Childe, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Scaramouche, and Ayato.

Word Count: 3.1k.

TW: Borderline Shitposting, Imprisonment, Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of Physical Emotional Abuse, and Slight Codependency.

Childe

“Ajax?”

He stalled in the doorway. “What is it, angelface?”

“I just wanted to ask…” You trailed off, fishing the empty glass vial out of your pocket. “Do you know what happened to my perfume?”

Childe turned away pointedly, dropping his eyes to the floor. Despite the dark sky, despite the raging snowstorm that’d only just let-up, he was fully dressed, his attention currently focused on his boots. “Nope. No idea. What’s perfume? Some new trend in Liyue?”

You hummed, leaning against the nearest wall. “I guess you won’t mind telling me where you’re going, then.”

“Oh, it’s uh— a mission! A big, secret mission, from the Tsaritsa herself.” He was a terrible liar, especially to you. His voice shook, he stumbled over his words, and his expression gave it all away – distracted, distant, vaguely pained in a way he couldn’t quite hide with a tense smile and a stilted laugh. “The messenger just left; you must’ve missed him. It’s very, very important, and very covert, so don’t ask me anything about it.”

“The Tsaritsa assigned you a mission personally? Out of all her harbingers, she came to you?”

“What can I say? She picks favorites.”

“And she sent out a messenger in the middle of the night, during one of the worst snowstorms of the season, to your cabin in the woods, miles out from the nearest village?”

“Happens all the time. You’ll get used to it, in a few months.”

“He came, told you everything you need to know about a mission so important you can’t tell me anything about it, and left while I was in the bath? Three rooms away? Which, by some miracle, was just far away enough for me not to overhear your conversation or notice we had guests at all?” You paused, taking a step closer and crossing your arms. “And none of this has anything to do with the fact that your breath smells like Inazuman Sakura Bloom?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again just as quickly.

“You were taking so long, and you locked the door, and—” He slumped forward, pouting. “It smelled so much like you. I thought I could get away with a sip, but I didn’t realize the bottle would be so small, and I didn’t know when you’d come out, and I knew it’d burn a little but I didn’t think it’d actually hurt that much—”

“Do you want me to walk you to the healer?”

“Yes, please.”

Zhongli

“Dearest.”

No response, predictably.

“My love.”

Silence, utter and complete.

“Darling, light of my life, precious and only gem of my heart,” He sighed, knocking softly. “Please, open the door.”

You didn’t move, doing your best to keep your voice steady, monotone. “Section D, Clause IIII, Item 2.”

There was a moment of quiet, followed by a slow, agitated exhale. “But I am your husband.”

“I am married Morax, Lord of Geo, God of Contracts. I don’t know anyone named ‘Zhongli’.” A useless point of contention, but one that was easy to dig your heels into, to grasp and hold onto and refuse to let go until his annoyance bordered on anger, until you were on the precipice of earning something more dangerous than his irritation. It was petty rebellion, more a reminder of your stubbornness than any meaningful show of defiance, but after spending so long by Morax’s (now Zhongli’s, you supposed) side, you’d learned that nothing frustrated him more than being forced to play by his own rules. “You were the one who insisted that I never share my bed with anyone but my rightful, legal husband. I’m sorry you didn’t take the time to consider the weight of your demands.”

“You’re being—” A low growl, soft and throaty. “You know very well that ‘husband’ is a situational title, and I’d still technically be considered—”

“What's that? Did you die and come back as the God of Technicalities—”

There was a sharp, sudden crack from somewhere above your head – a scaled, taloned fist breaking through solid wood like damp paper. You stepped back, clasping your hands in front of you, preparing to plead innocent, but the harshness of his scowl as he tore down what was left of the ill-fated door stopped you from voicing your naivety.

“I think,” He said, taking you by your robes, his glare only growing more bitter at the sight of your beaming smile. “it’s time that we re-assess the terms of our contract.”

Diluc

A sharp inhale, followed by an airy, hitched sigh. His back arched, briefly, then he bent forward, bracing himself against the mirror, resting his forehead against the glass. He tried to breathe, but it was shallow, hitched, more akin to a gasp than anything else, anything more substantial. He was flushed, his pale skin tinted red, and when he tried to straighten himself, to regain his dignity, he faltered quickly, failed even faster, his knees nearly buckling as he struggled to hold himself up, despite everything.

You loosened your grip on the corset strings. “…are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” He snapped, barely glancing in your direction. “Keep going. I only have a few minutes before I’m supposed to be downstairs.

Right. You could already hear distant voices from the first floor of his mansion, soft music playing just loudly enough to cover the sounds of whispered conversations and aimless footsteps. You weren’t sure what the party was for, or if it was actually a party at all and not a gala or a banquet, but you knew better than to pry for details. Asking would only make you want to go, and that’d only bring on another lecture, another scolding, another day kept at a comfortable distance from every other creature with a pulse, lest you allow yourself to be swept out of his oh-so-suffocating embrace. It was better not to try. It was better not to get your hopes up.

It was better not to wonder why you still had to help him get dressed, despite knowing you wouldn’t be leaving his bedroom for the rest of the night.

Mistaking your silence for confusion, he went on, bracing more of his weight on the mirror as he spoke. “It helps with—” A pained groan as you tugged, followed by a string of muttered curses, each more unbefitting than the last. “Fuck, it helps with back support. Have you ever tried to lift a claymore?”

“Would you ever let me?”

“When Teyvat freezes over, maybe.” One last pull, more forceful than it absolutely had to be, then the final knot, a simple bow just over the small of his back. He took a second to gather himself, to roll his shoulders back, to pull his coat on and check his reflection before starting towards the door, leaving you trying futile to rub the deep, stripped indents out of your palms. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Can I assume you’ll still be here to lend a hand?”

“I’m more than willing to take another stab at choking you half to death, if that’s what you mean.”

“I can only hope you succeed.”

“What?”

“What?”

Kaeya

He was later than he usually was, tonight.

By the time you head the door to his apartment unlock, it was already well-after midnight, hours past when he said he would return. You were perched on a loveseat, your back against the arm and your attention flickering half-heartedly between the novel in your hands and the window carved into the farthest wall, just big enough to provide a modest view of Mondstadt’s residential district. The streetlamps were just starting to burn out, windows dimming before going completely dark, and if you looked closely enough, if you stared long enough, you could make out figures, knights making their scheduled patrols, drunkards stumbling home from bars and taverns. You could see stray dogs wandering through alleys, hounding shopkeepers for spare scraps, and crystalflies circling lazily around the city’s tallest spires.

You could pretend Kaeya hadn’t already found you, that he wasn’t already stumbling towards you, struggling to keep himself on his feet. It took you a moment to process why his grin was so crooked, his eyes so glazed-over, his laugh so erratic as he tripped and fell to his knees in front of you, his face soon buried in your lap. When you finally reached your realization, it wasn’t a pleasant one.

Oh, Barbatos.

He was drunk.

Again.

And happy about it, too, judging by the way he nuzzled into your thighs, how he chuckled as you placed your book to the side and raked your fingers through his hair, tilting his head back, letting him lean into your palm and remember how to use his tongue. “Pretty baby,” He slurred, an arm wrapping around your calves, forcing himself that much closer to you. “Did you— Do you know that I love you?”

“Of course. You never talk about anything else.”

“And you know that I miss you, whenever I have to leave. You're all I ever think about. I’d open you up and crawl inside you, if I could. Live just underneath your skin, so we’d never have to be apart.”

Grisly, but not unexpected. Intoxication certainly made him more honest, but sobriety had always been something he only grudgingly subjected himself to, and you were no stranger to his visceral declarations. “I’m aware.”

“And?”

You glanced towards him. He was facing you, his expression hopeful, his visible eye bright. “…and?”

“And you love me too, right?”

You could’ve said no. He wouldn’t hurt you for it – he was a lot of things, but he wasn’t sadistic, wasn’t the type to maim what he aimed to covet. He’d be dejected, crestfallen, and he’d spend a few hours locked away with a cheap bottle of wine and only come out when he thought you’d fallen asleep, when he thought he could slip into your bed and hold you close without leaving himself vulnerable, open to attack. He thought he was above you, above your misery, above caring whether or not you returned his feelings, and in his current state, it wouldn’t take much to drag him down, to leave him sobbing in your lap, to prove that you hated him just as much as you'd always claimed to. You could’ve. You wanted to. He would’ve deserved it.

But, you didn’t.

You wouldn’t. Not tonight. Not when it was already so late, and you were already so, so tired.

Idly, you carded your fingers through his hair, raking your nails gently over his scalp. He grinned, in response, drinking in your affection, your gentleness. Acting as if you’d never dream of showing him anything else.

“Right.”

Xiao

“Is it done?”

“No, Xiao.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Xiao.”

“It looks done.”

“Well, it’s not.” The water was still boiling, the ingredients only just beginning to meld together in the pot, but trying to explain that to him was useless, a lecture delivered onto deaf ears. His scowl deepened, but he kept his hands on the countertop, his narrow gaze on to steam rising from the pot. “When was the last time you cooked something?”

“Cooking is a mortal pastime. Such indulgences are unnecessary for Adepti.” You could’ve figured that out on your own. It’d taken you weeks to convince him to add a decent kitchen onto his abode, another month to coax him into bringing you something other than withered flowered and bitter herbs to actually use in that kitchen. Even now, you could tell he was hesitant, reluctant to let you use a knife or let you get too close to the open flame. Honestly, you were surprised he’d kept as much distance as he had, resigned to pressing himself against your side rather than latching onto your waist and peering over your shoulder like some overprotective, hyper-vigilant bird. “Is it supposed to be doing that?”

“How long, Xiao?”

“Several centuries.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, then batted his hand away as he reached for the bubbling water. “Be careful, alright? You might get yourself hurt.”

“You might. I can’t afford to be so fragile.”

“Whatever you say, oh great and mighty Alatus. Just try not to touch anything while it's still hot.” You pulled away, drawing back just far enough to lay your spoon over the rim and kiss his cheek – a small gesture of affection, fleeting and unsubstantial, but enough to keep him content and distracted while you moved to a cabinet along the opposite wall, to your meager supply of spices. He was stubborn, but not impossible, and with enough time, with enough promises and pleas, you could let yourself hope for something more, something less controlled. Fresh vegetables, exotic fruit, smoked meat and prime cuts of fish. A garden, even, if an adeptal realm was capable of that, if his hidden sweet tooth proved to be linked to his sparse sense of generosity—

Metal crashing against tile, water sloshing out and spilling onto the floor. A sharp cry, then a low growl, then your name called out, drawn into something cloying, something apologetic.

If you didn’t throttle him, first.

Scaramouche

“How did you get in here?”

You turned the object over in your hands, touching it with care, but doing what you could to show it as little reverence as you could. A ceramic heart, made of rough clay and painted sloppily, the red already peeling away around the harsh edges. You could remember buying it from a child’s stall in the commercial district, having the agent Scaramouche sent to keep an eye on you pay double the listed price, but you could’ve sworn he’d broken it, crushed it under his heel as soon as he’d found it – or told you he had, at least. You were sure. His threats tended to blend together until you couldn’t remember if you’d be caned or collared for refusing to let him rest his hand on your thigh. He could’ve been talking about something else. He could’ve been lying.

“The door was unlocked.” You brandished the heart, flashing it across his line of sight before returning it to its designated spot on his desk. On his desk, of all places. If you’d found it in the back of his wardrobe or lying on some over-crowded table in a room he didn’t frequent, you would’ve figured that he’d forgotten to get rid of it, set it down somewhere and didn’t deem it worth the effort of destroying. He received guests in his office, spent long hours discussing convoluted plans with minds just as twisted as his. You couldn’t imagine what it would've been like to sit across from the Balladeer, dark and sadistic and feared, and his little clay heart. “I didn’t realize you still had it.”

“My beloved brat isn’t exactly showering me in gifts.” The words were dripping with something vile and sardonic, too cynical not to make you cringe and turn away, eager to look at anything that wasn’t his unabashed sneer. “Is it so strange that I’m willing to take what I can get?”

You didn’t respond, not to that. Anything you might’ve said would only feed into his distorted perspective. “Do you still have the note?”

It’d been short, simple, the ink stolen from his personal collection and scrawled across paper you’d torn out from one of your books. ‘So Scaramouche might finally have a heart’, or something similar enough, a cheap stab at his past and his cruelty. You could’ve tried to be more clever, to come up with something more cutting, but you hadn’t expected it to matter, hadn’t thought you’d ever have to remember it again.

“Of course not. What kind of idiot do you think I am?” Needlessly cruel, but what else had you expected? He’d never been one for flowery language. “I’d be the laughingstock of the Fatui. Your behavior puts my authority in enough peril already.”

“Ah, poor thing. I didn’t realize my imprisonment was so inconvenient for you.”

“Greatly so.” He moved, stepped past you, allowing his fingertips to brush against your arm. You allowed him too, despite your better judgment. “If I had any sense, I would’ve tied you up and thrown you into the deepest trench I could find ages ago.”

“I’ll be glad I caught the eye of such a fool, then.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Ayato

“I have an assignment for you.”

A gloved hand splayed over your collarbone, your chest, pushing you back, forcing you against the stone wall. He was close, too close, his body pressed against yours, his lips ghosting past your ear as he leaned forward, closing what little space between the two of you might’ve ever existed.

“I’d hate to ask anything of my favorite little assistant, but I’m afraid it’s of dire importance.”

Your eyes darted towards the entrance of the alleyway, towards the people walking past, unaware of what dwelled in the shadows. It was unlike him to try something like this in broad daylight – in the privacy of his chambers, perhaps, or the darkest corners of his estate, but not in public, not somewhere as crowded and as open as a marketplace. He’d never been one to hold his reputation in high regard, but he liked to keep his cards close to his chest, to limit his affection to wistful glances and chaste glances pushed into the backs of hands, nothing so unveiled, nothing so blatant. Nothing so telling, certainly.

“You see, I’m desperately in need of a favor, and I’m afraid you’re the only one I can turn to.” His fingers slipped beneath fabric, his mouth fell to the edge of your jaw, and you felt warm breath fan over your skin, the faintest hint of teeth against flesh. “I’m just not sure if I can turn to anyone else with my burden. You’ve always been so kind, and so patient, and—”

“For the Shogun’s sake, Lord Kamisato,” You cut in, planting your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away. “If there's another salesperson you want me to talk to, all you have to do is ask.”

Immediately, he deflated. “She’s just so—”

“She’s pushy, and you can never turn her down. I’ve seen you speak to her, my lord.”

“And she always asks—”

“She always asks about your day, but you don’t know how to answer, and you’re afraid you’ll start rambling. I’ll take care of it, my lord.”

He fell against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Pray you never have to find out, my lord.”

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio Ricci - Bond Stories

My standard amateur/irreverant disclaimer still applies, as always. I’ll add to these as I collect more!

Bond Story #1: First Impression

He stops Emma and says he needs a maid. She should be thrilled to attend his party and she can’t refuse, so hurry it up and come along.

I’m not going! (He’ll tell her to remember her place and that even a peabrain like her should know what it means to try and defy foreign royalty)

Tyrant… (He’ll say that unfortunately for her, he takes being called a tyrant as a compliment, so all she has to do is obey. And once she knows her place, she can do something about being so rebellious.)

I’m not thrilled. (He promises to work her until she does enjoy it, and show her the pleasures of obedience)

He’s still amused though, and says her cheeky gaze is the same as always. Those stubborn eyes that don’t look anything like a proper ‘lady’s’. He challenges her to see how long she can keep up the tough gal act…and says for her not to let him down/disappoint him easily.

Bond Story #2: Usual Haunts

Emma comes across him in the gardens, and seems to wonder if this is where he often spends his time. He asks if she’s finally ready to serve him and heed his demands. He says he spends his time wherever money changes hands, and suggests she come along with him.

Ask whether that sounds more like the mindset of a merchant than a royal? (He’ll reply that his perspective is that a man without business acumen isn’t suited for royalty. So in theory, she’s not wrong - but the difference between them is whether they’re lining their own pockets or enriching their entire country)

Point out that he likes money. (He’ll say that there’s never enough of it to run a country, and someone who doesn’t like it can’t serve as royalty)

Refuse, and say she has zero interest in going. (He scoffs that she’s lame if she can’t get along with someone with a different set of values and if she thinks her way of looking at the world is absolute)

He observes that she seems to run willy nilly about the castle, like a bunny…and says that he doesn’t know what she’s trying to do or hide, but she’d better be a bit smarter about it. Depending on how she acts, he’ll buy her at whatever her asking price - giving her a place at his side isn’t such a bad deal, right woman?

Bond Story #3: Tastes

Silvio proudly shows Emma a bunch of foreign jewelry he’s just bought, and then seems surprised when she’s stunned, saying that she should look thrilled and impressed.

It’s too much janglebling. (He’ll scoff that there’s nothing wrong with someone wearing it who makes it look good, like he does, and says jewelry is meant to be worn. That’s the whole point of it.)

Say she was struck speechless at the gaudy sight. (He allows that it’s rare to see such a display, and it was worth it having them brought in)

Do you love jewelry? (He says he definitely doesn’t dislike it, it’s fitting for someone with as much money and good looks as him)

He says that each piece is rich with the culture of a country it came from, the effort and time that went into crafting it, and the value of the gold and gems it’s made up of. And that it’s the duty of the privileged to spend a lot to honor all that - the royal family has to help prop up the economy. He’s in a good mood right now so he’ll pick a thing or two for her, and tells her to come closer and let him bling her out. Maybe with a custom-made collar/choker? Then it’ll be blatantly obvious she’s his property.

Bond Story #4: His Type (of Woman)

He stops Emma and says she’s got some real nerve, always running and trying to hide the moment she sees him. Observing smugly that it almost seems like she wants to be caught and tormented.

Leave me alone. (He takes affront, and says he gets to decide what to do with her - he’s told her that countless times, but she still doesn’t seem to get it does she?)

That’s not my intention… (Whether she intended to or not, that’s how it comes across, he tells her. And this is all her fault for turning her back on a beast.)

Oh, look at that weird light in the sky! (He tells her not to try and mess with him, and that Yves is the only one who’d fall for that trick jdkljfdkjlfjl)

She doesn’t seem to get why he’s so all up in her business? Ask yourself why, he tells her - and points out that it’d be weird NOT to be interested in a mysterious woman living at the castle with the Rhodolite beasts. Not to mention her sassy attitude towards him. Which of the two of them is the stronger? Which the weaker? He doesn’t mind someone with a bit of spine to them…so keep giving him that rebellious look. It’s well worth the effort of trying to make her yield.

Bond Story #5: About Benitoite

Silvio’s in a good mood this evening, and offers to tell Emma anything she wants to know, pointing out happily that she seems to have been secretly researching Benitoite in the library.

What can you see from the Benitoite castle? (He says the castle overlooks the sea, with all the boundless possibilities that lay across it)

What’s your favorite thing about Benitoite? (That it’s a place appreciative of people with power, and that there’s people from countless countries coming and going through the port. That anyone can be a self-made success, regardless of their status or title.)

What kind of country is Benitoite, in his opinion? (He says it’s a simple place to understand - the winners get rich, the losers get exploited. What you need isn’t sentiment, just unbridled ability/competence) 

Benitoite will only get richer and richer he declares, since after all, he’s going to become king. He observes that she looks happy - if she’s that interested, he’ll take her there with him right now. Seeing is believing, after all. And then he says it’s boring she doesn’t want to take him up on the offer…he’d have loved to see the panic on the faces of the beasts when their little bunny was stolen away.

Bond Story #6: Appearances

Silvio scoffs at Emma’s repeated sentiment - the idea that she’d tell him, who’s more like royalty than anyone else, that he ‘doesn’t look like a prince’? He asks, if she doesn’t think he looks like a prince, what does she think he looks like?

Like a pirate. (He’s offended at being compared to those thieves...but then admits a certain strange sort of fondness for them when he came across them on past voyages)

Vampire-like, in her opinion. (He laughs that she’s been reading too many stories…or maybe it’s just that she wants his teeth at her neck?)

A king already. (He’s pleased and says he agrees with her on that. There’s no man better suited to the throne than him.)

He observes that she’s not very ‘noble’ - they tend to wag their tails and suck up far more blatantly. With the way she acts she’d be better off if she were, say…a shopgirl in some sleepy little bookstore, no? He laughs at her ‘oh shit’ face, and asks if maybe he’s happened upon the real her?

Bond Story #7: About His Brothers

Silvio warns her away if she doesn’t wanna get snapped at, he’s in a bad mood right now. Cursing about the Rhodolite beasts and how he can’t stand them, how it’d be the worst to have that many brothers. Emma seems to ask about his own brothers, and he agrees he has some - it’s the duty of the royal family to produce heirs and keep the bloodline going. 

Do you get along with them? (He laughs that if by ‘get along’ she means trying to kill each other…but then that’s pretty normal, right? He says it’d be best if people in your way just disappeared, it makes more sense than continuing any stupid fighting.)

What are they like? (He says they’re nauseating to even look at, the way the bastard wags his tail at everyone)

Are they all flashy too? (He says he’s not a flashy guy because of his country, that’s just who he is. There’s a bro of his that’s unbelievably boring and tedious.)

Then he sighs and says he needs a drink, and it’s her fault and responsibility for making him talk about this crap. He’s gonna come have an evening drink in her room…and imperiously he demands that while he’s there, she let him hear all her rambling. Hearing about Rhodolite from her ain’t nearly as bad as he’d thought.

Bond Story #8: Game of Love

Silvio tells Emma that drinking with her is going pretty well now…he doesn’t mind doing it with her, because she puts him pleasantly at ease. He’ll grant her something in return, so what does she want?

I want you. (He laughs that she’s come to the point of saying that, but he also isn’t a fan of how blasé she seems about it)

I don’t need anything else. (He doesn’t seem to buy that she wouldn’t)

Another compliment, please! (He seems surprised, wondering if she wants him to say something else or wants another round of drinks, but either way she’s a sly gal for trying to just slide nonchalantly into his good graces)

He says having her around makes him want to coddle and pamper her, but by the same token he wants to torment her to the point of tears. Does she want him to sleep with her? He’ll spend the entire night spoiling her and making her cry. Then he laughs at the look on her face, like a bunny about to run away in a panic. He says she’s not cut out for playing these sorts of games, because she wears every thought plain on her face - but he likes that about her. Never change.

To Be Continued...

[sips---tea]

What it is like to get into an argument with your elven s/o

Elrond:

- Arguments with Elrond are usually about your increasing worries about the return of Sauron or Elrond being quite protective of you such as not letting you join him in killing orcs.

- Elrond is not one for arguments, always keeping a level head and not wishing to raise his voice, even for a moment.

- If you raise your own voice, Elrond just watches silently which can make you worse, angry that he is not reacting to your emotions and talking to you.

- Elrond in arguments can blank you like he is waiting for you to just finish talking so he can go back to work. This of course makes you angrier, the fact he is not doing anything to calm you or reassure you.

- The argument usually ends with Elrond having enough and leaving the room. You end up sitting and crying, your anger was gone and shame replaces it.

- Elrond goes out into the gardens and relaxes himself and figuring out what to say before returning to your shared rooms.

- You lay your back to the door so quietly Elrond goes and sits, placing his hand on your shoulder. You will apologise for shouting and Elrond shushes you, saying that he was the one who refused to talk to you about your valid issues.

- You get up and lay in his arms, after a while of silence you gently talk about what you were arguing about and come to a conclusion.

Thranduil:

- Arguments with Thranduil start about him being unessesorally jealous, you not doing something which he wanted you to do or anything else as Thranduil can be a short fuse, especially when he has drunk wine.

- Immediately Thranduil gets angry, ranting at you about whatever it was which made him mad. You just sit there, taking it until you either shout back at him and or start crying. Thranduil however doesn't stop when this happens, carrying on.

- You finally decide to leave when you have had enough of Thranduil, leaving with tears flowing from your eyes. Thranduil just watches you go, a sneer on his lips.

- You don't keep track of where you run to, just feel through the empty back halls until you finally stop and catch your breath, tears falling down your face.

- Thranduil meanwhile will bask in his anger for a little longer before it melts away and he realises what he has done and guilt falls upon him. He enlists the help of a few of his aids to find you and take you back to him.

- Slowly you go back when you are found. Your tears by now have gone, replaced with an empty feeling as you trudge back to your husband who immediately pulls you into a hug, squeezing you close to him and muttering apologies into your ear as he holds you close to him.

- He asks for your forgiveness, worried that you would not give it, but you do and he sighs in thankfulness, glad that you did not hate him for his mistake.

Lindir:

- Arguments with Lindir are always about you risking your life on the battlefield, Lindir's worry turning into stress as you come back with an injury. He blows up the small injury and demands that you stop working in the orc hunting party.

- You of course roll your eyes as Lindir becomes progressively more uptight and stressed until he shouts at you. This of course makes you jump in surprise, never hearing Lindir shout before. He immediately realises his mistake and tries to stop you as you leave the room, apologies flooding from his mouth.

- Lindir kicks himself for not keeping composure and goes after you, finding you in the library, tucked away in the corner. Slowly he comes towards you, apologising profusely for raising your voice to you and trying to stop you from doing your duty.

- You hug him, knowing how his worry would consume him if you did not say anything or walk away and say you forgive him.

- Lindir nods, still apologising and saying he wouldn't again shout at you, his guilt bub;bling over to make him a mess of apologies, even after you had forgiven him. You kiss him to stop him talking and tell him he doesn't need to worry and that you are safe with the other elves in your fighting party.

Haldir:

- Your arguments usually stem from how little time you get to see him as he is away most of the time protecting the borders. You understand that it is his job and that he does it to protect you and everyone else, however, this thought doesn't take away the pain of not having him around for much of the time.

- Haldir will not understand your sadness about this, seeing his duty to guard the borders and will get very offended that you even suggest that he should lose some hours. Haldir will get annoyed and will leave the room to spend time thinking. He is very stubborn and set in his ways but he doers realise that you would feel lonely without you, your husband with you less than once a week.

- Haldir returns with a little gift of a flower or gem as a way to apologise. You are on the bed, crying into your pillow, thinking that you were just a burden for him.

- Haldir places a hand on your back and gently runs your back in silence. Slowly you turn and he joins you on the bed, he placed the thing into your hand and apologises. He will tell you his thoughts through it so you understand and he promises to ask for fewer hours.

- You hug Haldir, forgiving him and the next day he is talking to Lady Galadriel for about fewer hours.

Arwen:

- Arguments with Arwen start with you risking your life while fighting orcs. Because Arwen doesn't fight on the front line with you and her father she always gets terrified when you go out for an orc raid.

- You had sustained an injury and her worry bubbled over to annoyance while healing your arm being snappy with you and demanding you be more careful. You had never seen this side of Arwen and furrowed your forhead. You say you need to but Arwen huffed, saying you could just join her in the reserves.

- You refuse and she decides to order you as the Lady of Rivendell to stay with her. You refuse again, crossing your arms annoyed at her. She orders again, more firmly, raising her voice at you. You leave, even if she is still healing you, not wishing to hear her any longer.

- You go to your horse, sitting by it and trying to not let tears flow because of the argument. Arwen meanwhile breaks down, terrified for you, she wants to keep you safe but she hurts you. When Arwen calms down she goes and finds you, looking in all the usual spots you would be.

- She joins you and in silence hugs you, whispering her apologies into your ear as she holds you close to her. You promise to be careful and always come back to her and Arwen thanks you.

[sparkypantaloons]

A Storm

“I promise you.” Bruce had said. “If you come home, I will keep you safe. I will keep them safe. I will keep us whole. I promise.”

Tim is taken. Each of his family react differently.

There’s a rushing in Tim’s ears. Like a waterfall. It’s so loud he can’t see. Can that happen? Can noise affect sight? He doesn’t know.

There’s a hand on his back. Gentle, but firm. He thinks maybe someone is talking to him, but he can’t see. He can’t see anything over the rushing in his ears.

No, that’s not right. He needs to start again. Try again. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, covers his ears, takes a deep breath.

“Tim?” Is it Bruce? Someone’s hands are on Tim’s arms, pulling his hands from his head. The person in front of him is stooping slightly, so they can look him in the eye. “Can you hear me?”

“'m fine.” Tim says. But his eyes can’t focus, it’s too loud in here. “I just need, I… just need t’sleep.” He grimaces, the noise too bright for his eyes.

There’s more sound then. Voices he thinks, but he’s not sure. He can’t see who they belong to. Then there’s a hand around his ankle, gripping him roughly. He flinches in the hold, starts to struggle as his shoes are removed. Then his socks. What is going on?

His feet? What about his feet? He tries to speak, but it’s so loud in here, he can’t form the words. A forehead presses against his, green eyes bore into his own. Jason?

Hands hold his feet to the floor, press down. More talking. It could be shouting now.

The hands let go of his feet. Move to his face. “Your feet, Timmy. Concentrate on your feet.”

Tim opens his eyes. Jason is still there, his bright green eyes, searching and insistent. “'m home?” Tim mumbles.

“Concentrate on your feet, Timmy. What can you feel?”

Tim closes his eyes again. His feet. He can feel… wood. Wooden floor. Wooden floorboards and the thin gaps between them. The Manor floor. The Manor.

“Yeah, Timmy.” Jason says. His hands move from Tim’s face, pull the teenager into a bear hug. “You��re home. You’re home.”

~~

Leslie pushes her glasses back up her nose. Lets out a sigh. “It’s just going to take time, Bruce.” She says. She’s firm, as always. But there’s a softness in her eyes. A sadness. “Like all things.”

Bruce doesn’t speak. Just rubs his face with his hands. Hangs his head.

“Why is he so disorientated?” Dick asks. His right hand is still bandaged up, swollen, but it’s no longer bleeding through.

Jason sucks his teeth from where he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Leslie and Dick both ignore him.

“Sensory deprivation, especially for so long-- it can take a little while to recover.” Leslie is matter of fact. There’s no point mincing her words. “You have to take it slow.”

“Touch is best to start with.” Jason says, pushing himself off the wall. “It’s grounding.”

Dick, Leslie and Bruce look over at him. He shrugs. “It worked for me.”

A pained look crosses Dick’s face. Leslie interrupts before he can speak. “Let Tim lead, let him set the pace.” Her words hang in the air. “It’ll take time. But he’s strong.” She says. “He’ll pull through.”

~~

Dick wakes up in a sweat, breathless. His right hand is throbbing. He tries to flex his fingers, flinches as his broken knuckles protest. It’s not the worst injury he’s ever had. Not by far. But the way he got it…

He shakes his head, tries to dislodge the memory of a shattered eye-socket, a dislocated jaw, a cracked skull. Tries to shed the jarring realisation that he broke his hand on a man’s face. Tries to make himself at least feel a sense of responsibility for the damage done. He doesn’t.

He makes his way to the kitchen, pads barefoot through the Manor. He pulls an ice-pack out of the freezer, holds it on his aching fist. The cold seeps into his joints, consumes the burn of displaced bone and absent guilt. He feels calmer.

Touch is grounding, Jason had said. Dick doesn’t want to think about how the younger man, his younger brother, knew that. Doesn’t want to know which one of a lifetime of traumatic experiences had taught him that little gem. But he can’t dispute it. The touch of the cold helps.

He makes his way back upstairs. Turns left, instead of right. To Tim’s room.

The door is pulled to. The most Alfred would allow. Bruce had been adamant about staying by Tim’s side, so had Jason, so had Dick. Alfred had refused all of them.

“Wayne Manor is the safest, most secure building on the eastern seaboard, if not the entire continent. None of you will do Master Timothy any good if you don’t get some sleep. He will be safe, in the meantime.”

Bruce had tried to protest, Jason had made threats, all but hissed at Alfred’s suggestion. The older man hadn’t budged. “I will stay with Master Timothy. In case he wakes.”

He wasn’t wrong. They needed rest, all of them. The search had been… long. Too long. Desperate, and increasingly frantic with each passing hour. And there had been so many hours.

He swallows down a memory. Of the howl that felt like it had been ripped out of his soul when they found Tim. Dick hadn’t even realised the noise had come from his own mouth, didn’t notice the tears of rage on his own face, as he took his hands to the men holding Tim captive. Broke his hands on the men who had taken his brilliant, darling brother. Locked him in the dark, alone, for too, too long.

Dick hovers outside Tim’s door. Holds his ear to the wood. He can’t hear anything over his own breathing, his own heartbeat.

“Just open it, Dickhead.” It’s Jason. He's dressed in a spare pair of Bruce’s pyjamas. Despite his size they're somehow still too big for him. It makes him look young. Too young. Dick stares at him for a moment before doing as he says.

The pair of them fill the doorway. Wait as their eyes adjust to the light in the room. Gloomy shadows fall in through the window; the blinds have been left open. Dick’s eyes scan the bed but his ears hear Jason’s breathing hitch. He feels the younger man go rigid beside him, knows his own body has responded the same. Because Tim is gone. Again.

Panic forces itself into what little space is between them, and Dick is only vaguely aware that Jason is gripping his wrist. Holding him too tightly, clinging onto him as though he’s scared one of them will disappear too.

A small cough brings them back to their senses. Alfred. The older man is sat in the corner of the room, by the window. A patient vigil in the dark. He nods to the far side of the bed.

Jason all but drags Dick with him as he marches into the room. They stop just past the bed. Tim is asleep on the floor. He’s curled into a ball, a single sheet held tight over his head. Dick only knows it’s him from the tuft of hair that’s sticking out.

He feels Jason let go of his wrist. The younger man stumbles backwards. He nods to Alfred then leaves the room, gone as quick as he entered.

Dick watches him go, a new worry blooming in his chest. He looks at Alfred, and the older man shakes his head sadly.

~~

Jason is in his old room. His old en-suite more accurately. His knees protest against the tile as he wretches into the toilet.

I am safe, I am warm, I am whole.

He repeats the words in his mind like a mantra. Tries to control his breathing. He fails. Another wave of nausea has him wretching again. Acid burning its way up his throat.

A hand presses to his back and he flinches. He hadn’t heard anyone come in. Bruce places a glass of water on the floor beside him, pushes his hair back from his face.

Jason wipes his mouth on his sleeve, takes a shaky sip of water. Bruce rubs circles on his back.“Don’t.” Jason croaks, and he hates himself when the warmth of the hand is removed. He looks up at Bruce. “You promised you’d keep them safe.” He says, and he can’t keep the hurt out of his voice. Can’t keep the tears from his eyes. “You promised.”

“I know.” Bruce says. He pulls the younger man into a hug, holds him tight against his chest. “I’m sorry.” His son’s tears soak through his shirt.

~~

Jason doesn’t know how long they sit there. Tangled limbs on the cold, hard tiles of the bathroom floor. Only knows that he needs Bruce to let go. He pulls himself out of his father’s arms, pushes himself to his feet. He needs to brush his teeth.

Bruce sits on the floor behind him, as Jason scrubs the bile and acid from his mouth. He presses too hard with the toothbrush, can taste the copper of blood against mint. But the dig of the bristles in the soft flesh of his gums is grounding. Reminds him he’s still alive.

I am safe, I am warm, I am whole.

Jason can remember sleeping on the floor. He’s slept on so many of them. The dingy corner of their apartment growing up, when all they could afford was a single mattress and Willis refused to let him share. The cardboard box by one of the subway vents behind the old Monarch Theatre. The floor of this very bedroom, the bed too soft for him to sleep in, threatening to drown him as soon as he fell asleep. Then the streets again, when he had wandered aimlessly after his death.

He can remember the dark too. Of being locked in a closet and forgotten for days at a time, when his infant crying became too much for Willis. Of his eyes swollen shut as the Joker beat the life out of him. Of his coffin, as he lay there screaming for Bruce to save him.

Jason’s life was a short but terrible history of hard floors and dark rooms and Tim’s was never meant to be like that.

They’d found him in all but a box, eight feet by eight feet by eight feet. There were no windows, the door had been soldered shut. He was being fed once a day. Some bread and water slid through a hatch in the wall, and a bucket too. Swapped out every 24 hours. Nobody ever spoke to him, nobody ever asked anything of him. No-one ever demanded anything from them either, neither The Bats, nor The Waynes.

He spits into the sink. Toothpaste pink with blood. He rinses his mouth. Splashes his face. Takes a deep breath.

They just took him and kept him. Because they could.

Jason had known people like that too, once. If he clings to it, it’s the only thought that makes him grateful Tim has been left alone for so long. Even as it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Coming home, coming back to his family had been as painful and awful as clawing himself out of his own grave. An endless fight against the pit and its madness, that drove him to hurt the people he loved. An ongoing battle against the deep, deep wound in his heart that The Joker still lived. And a terrifying, haunting fear that he would lose them again. That after all they had been through, after he finally got his family back, they would be taken from him and he would be alone once more.

“I promise you.” Bruce had said. “If you come home, I will keep you safe. I will keep them safe. I will keep us whole. I promise.”

Jason turns away from the sink. Walks back into his room. Leaves Bruce sat on the cold, tiled floor.

~~

Eventually Bruce pulls himself to his feet. Jason’s room is empty when he passes through. He doesn’t allow himself to wonder where he might have gone. Of all the broken promises he has made to Jason, he knows this one has hurt his son the most. That Jason’s single biggest fear is losing the family he has so desperately longed for, both of his lives. That Jason would rather never love at all, than love and lose it all over again. This time had been too close. For Jason. For all of them.

It had taken them too long to get a lead on where Tim was being held. Far too long. And even then, they couldn’t confirm an exact location. They’d had no choice but to split up. Cass, and Damian had joined the Titans on the West Coast. Dick and Jason had come with him on the East.

He pulls out his phone, checks on the location of Cass and Damian for the nineteenth time that night. They’re making steady progress. Will be in Gotham before sunrise. His arms ache with a desperate need to hold them, know that they are safe. To have the physical proof, that all his children are alive and breathing, in his hands.

It had taken him a long time to let go of Tim once they found him. To pass his sweet, brilliant boy over to Leslie, so she could check him over. Confirm he was okay.

Tim was older now than Jason had been when he… Tim was older, but he had still felt just as small and young and broken, when Bruce had lifted him out of that box they’d kept him in. Out of the darkness. His body weak and trembling.

It had been Tim who had been taken, but Bruce had looked at the body in his arms and seen Robin, limbs twisted and broken. Seen Nightwing, lips blue and heart stopped by a hand held to his face. Seen another Robin, sword run through him, splitting his battered body almost in two. Seen Red Robin, riddled with bullet holes, blood running out of every one. He had held Tim and seen everyone of his children dead in his arms. An endless cacophony of death.

He reaches Tim’s room. Stands in the doorway and hopes that Alfred can’t see him in the darkness. He tries to remember back to when he took Dick in. Tries to recall what, in the name of all the Gods, had possessed him to allow his child, his children, out into the night with him. Tries to remember how he reached the conclusion that he could risk their single precious lives for his own crusade. How he could risk their safety for a single second.

He steps into the room. Hears Alfred sigh from his seat by the window.

“Don’t ask me to leave.” Bruce croaks out. His throat is tight, trying to hold a tidal wave of emotion at bay. “Don’t.”

Alfred stands. “Of course not.” He says softly, and he gestures to where Tim is sleeping on the floor. “Did you get any sleep?” He asks.

Bruce doesn’t respond. Just stares down at Tim, eighteen but looking for all the world like the ten year old who had shown up on Bruce’s doorstep all those years ago. The sheet is twisted round his limbs, his face screwed into a frown.

“Why is he on the floor?” Bruce asks. Though he has a good idea already.

Alfred takes a steadying breath. “He’s been…” He pauses. “He’s been sleeping on the floor so long, it’s what he’s used to n—“ He cuts himself off abruptly, turns to the window away from Bruce.

Bruce feels a burn in his throat. Knows that Alfred is fighting down the same tears that he is. He places a hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “I’ll stay with him now. Get some rest.”

Alfred nods. Places a hand over Bruce’s but doesn’t look at him. “And you, Bruce.” He says and he leaves. Pulls the door closed gently behind him.

Bruce turns back to Tim. His darling boy. He kneels down, gently detangles the sheets from his son’s legs. Tim doesn’t stir. Bruce lies down next to him, lays the sheet over them both.

Touch is grounding. Jason had said. And it’s all Bruce can do not to pull Tim into his arms and never let go. But Leslie had said baby steps. So instead he settles for running his fingers through Tim’s hair and holding his face in his hands. Moves his head closer so he can feel the soft rise and fall of Tim’s breath.

This would have to do, for now.

[empiressmpheadcanon]

Random roseblings swap au time! featuring lots of angst because it's me <3

~

We all know the story.

In a land of technology, twins are born. The elder is given the duties of the heir and the younger is expected to serve as an advisor at her side.

But then the elder discovers magic, and after a fight with her parents, flees her home in the dead of night to study it. The younger is promoted to heir and the elder is treated like she doesn't exist.

But this is not that story.

~

When Gem fights with her parents, demanding to know why the mere mention of magic is banned in the Grimlands, she doesn't stand her ground. She backs down under the ire of her parents, and that night instead of sneaking away she simply cries herself to sleep.

Fwhip, ever overlooked by those who only focus on the heir, notices this and gets mad. His sister is in pain, and it's all because of the Count and Countess. (He doesn't refer to them as their parents. Not anymore.) That night he leaves without even a note. If they reject magic to the point of hurting Gem over it, he will make sure magic will be their downfall.

Gem is told he died. That wizards from the Crystal Cliffs heard of her desire to learn magic but grew angry when they were turned away and said they would take at least one twin, one way or another. When he resisted, he was killed.

Her screams of sorrow echoed throughout the manor.

She was made to move on quickly, given even more lessons and restrictions. A hatred for magic greater than any other grew in her, and she threw herself into inventing with a passion.

She molded herself into the perfect heir, perfect future Countess, and she swore on Fwhip's memory she would avenge him.

Meanwhile Fwhip's doing pretty good, thriving under the freedoms learning magic offers him. While he still misses tinkering (magic and redstone do not mix) his dedication quickly rises him through the ranks.

When the Count and Countess die he tries to go visit Gem, but urgent matters always call his attention away. Being the Grand Wizard comes with responsibilities after all.

Gem refuses any meeting requests coming from the Crystal Cliffs, burning the letters as soon as she notices the origin. She doesn't meet their leader until a trade meeting of every ruler is called.

Fwhip runs up to her for a hug as soon as she touches down, but she instantly pushes him away, tears in her eyes as she screams that he's dead. When he tries to figure out what's going on she just keeps yelling that he's dead and this must be some trick. It draws a crowd and soon Sausage shows up to lead her away.

He sits them both down in a private room and Fwhip explains what happened, horrified when he hears what Gem was told. He promises that none of that happened, and that her parents knew that.

(She unconsciously rubs long healed bruises as she thinks about how much of their behavior she had previously excused as grief.)

The pair are inseparable now, Gem being especially clingy and protective. Sausage quietly explains the situation to the other rulers so no one questions or comments on it.

In some ways, they slot back into each other's lives like they never left. They can still talk in sync in the way that creeps everyone out, they can still follow the other's train of thought perfectly where others are left confused. (She's still the only one who can tell when a project is overtaking him and force him to eat and drink. He's still the only one who can help her out of frequent panic attacks when her brain overworks itself.)

In others, they could never be more different. Fwhip hasn't touched redstone in years, and Gem still hates magic, the mere mention enough to get her mad. She's trying to unlearn it, but he still notices how warily she eyes his staff and how she bristles at any demonstrations.

They're not perfect, but piece by piece, they're working to become as close as they once were.

~

Woop woop au time lets go

In terms of appearance I was thinking:

For Gem her hair's in a messy ponytail and she's constantly stained with soot and redstone, her clothes are pretty similar to what Fwhip wears in canon.

Fwhip wears trousers and a vest with a long flowing cloak in Cliffs colours with a few small black and red accents to remind him of his homeland. Canon Gem doesn't have these because she forsake everything to do with the Grimlands when she left.

so yeah feel free to do anything with this lol I am just procrastinating on finishing my fic (which is very close to being done btw >;3)

angst angst angst

-🦊

chanting *ANGST ANGST ANGST*

I LOVE THIS.

[griffintail]

Hello! Since I saw requests are open can you do one where reader has like a ton of stuff and any time someone would go to them it would just be for stuff and one dat they snap because everyone just uses them For resources? I would write that myself but I forgot I have to much homework (It's okay if don't want to)

Broken Promises

Pairings: DreamSMP x GN! Reader

Warnings: Self Doubts

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) remembered before the wars. Before even the first disc war.

There were fair trades and everyone worked for what they needed alongside them. Even Tommy was responsible with trades with them.

They were a harder worker themselves and it was no surprise they had hordes of valuable resources and it helped to even keep them well stocked on other items.

Then all the wars happened. There were no times for trades, only broken promises to return the favor and run off to battle. (Y/N) stayed away from sides and instead was there to just help people survive. They supposed that was why they were ok with it a first.

People needed to live and when these same people’s houses were getting blown up or burned down or resources stolen, it was only fair they helped them out. They were a kind soul as much as they were a hard-working one. What’re a few diamonds to help a boy who lost his home for the third time?

It took a long time for things to stabilize, it took even a few deaths, but in the end, it seemed to stabilize even just slightly. There was no need for a constant rush with supplies anymore. No impending war hanging over everyone’s head so they could finally go back to trading normally…But trading never seemed to come back.

It was still a give only system with promises for a returned favor. The only people that traded with (Y/N) fairly were Philza and freaking Ghostbur!

But (Y/N) would often take a deep breath and remind themselves, people were still recovering. There had been war after war. People still needed help. A nation had just been bombarded after all by its own past leader.

They kept their cool and let time pass, maybe it would improve…

“(Y/N)!” Ghostbur grinned as he just let himself into their home, a newly trimmed sheep behind him. “How are you today?”

(Y/N) laughed lightly as they close the chest they were organizing. “I’m doing pretty well Ghostbur, would you like some blue?”

“Yes! I’m running rather low. But I have some wool from Friend for it!” Ghostbur smiled.

“Thank you Ghostbur.” They chuckled lightly handing over a bag filled with the blue gems before taking the bag of wool Ghostbur had been trimming from Friend. “And here’s some wheat just for you Friend, no extra price.”

“Thank you!” Ghostbur beamed. “Oh! And Tommy asked if he could have some diamonds.” (Y/N) stiffened as they were turning to put the wool away. “He said he’ll bring resources back and he said you’d be alright with it”

(Y/N) gripped the bag of wool. It had been months since L’Manberg had been blown away by Wilbur. Their government was stable and they could finally worry about themselves. They had to put their foot down. These were their friends but they couldn’t just keep doing this give system.

“I uh, I can’t spare anything right now Ghostbur unless he trades. Can you tell him to come here himself with things to trade with?”

“Sure! Thank you for the blue (Y/N)! Have a good day! Bye, bye! Bye, bye!” He waved as he left, (Y/N) sighing once they were alone.

It was a reasonable request and they carried on with their day…until there was a furious knock on their door. They raised an eyebrow before opening it ajar and there stood a fuming Tommy.

“What do you mean you need resources to trade right now?” Tommy threw up his hands. “You haven’t asked for anything upfront before!”

“Hello to you too, Tommy.” They rolled their eyes before leaning on the doorframe. “L’Manberg is back on its feet and so are its citizens. I think it’s fair that I ask for immediate trades again.”

“Come on (Y/N)! We’re friends! And you know I’m good for my word!” Tommy tried to convince them.

“Are you though? Tommy, no one has returned the favor in months.” (Y/N) said.

“That can’t be true.” Tommy waved his hand dismissively.

“No, it is.” (Y/N) stood up straight. “I have less and less resources every day and I work pretty damn hard for these items. So, I think I should get some sort of compensation for the work I’m putting in.”

“(Y/N) come on. We’re friends. I swear I’ll-”

But (Y/N) finally felt something snap and threw up their arms.

“Are you though?! Everyone says I’m friends with them but I haven’t felt like I’ve had a single friend since all this fucking chaos started! Everyone said they were though! ‘Oh, (Y/N), we’re great friends, can’t you help me and my other friends with things.’ And ‘oh, (Y/N), we’re such good mates, why don’t you join us?’ But now! Now I realize all you guys fucking wanted was my shit! None of you were my friends!

“You don’t want to trade, you don’t want to barter, you just want my things and leave! Even now, you came here demanding to know why I didn’t just hand my own resources over without even a simple hello! So, here.” (Y/N) went over to a chest and tossed a bag of diamonds at the boy, which hit him right in the chest, though he caught it. “There’s your damn diamonds. Now, your favor is to tell everyone, I refuse to trade, ever. Good day.”

And they slammed the door, leaning their back against it before sliding down. It had been a pretty shitty time and now, it came all crashing down on them and they sat there, tearing up. Since the wars, they haven’t had anyone and now there truly wouldn’t be anyone but them…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(Y/N) ran their hoe through their small field, trying to get a new patch of wheat to grow. No one had been around in days and the loneliness was most certainly starting to seep in. They sighed deeply, leaning on the tool before picking it up and going towards their house. Maybe it was time for a break today.

As they went to open the door, they stopped seeing a handful of figures coming down the path. Sapnap, Tubbo, Fundy, Punz, Purpled. People they had “traded” with. The group of them was led by Tommy holding the reins of a horse carrying a large bag.

“What--?” (Y/N) started but stopped as Tommy took the bag off the horse and let it fall in front of them.

It was a heavy clang of what sounded like metals and gems. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the group and Tommy looked away as Tubbo spoke up.

“We’re sorry. We didn’t…we didn’t realize how much we had been taking. So, Tommy came and got us and we at least wanted to make it even and apologize.”

“Yeah, sorry man, I didn’t mean to go into debt with you.” Sapnap apologized.

They all gave their various apologies, and (Y/N) stood there silently before smiling lightly.

“Well, it better not happen again. Only proper trades for now.”

Everyone gave agreements before going to leave.

“Hey Tommy.” (Y/N) called and the younger boy stopped. “Did you use those diamonds to get this?”

He hesitated before nodding. Going into the bag, (Y/N) saw several different resources all smelted and ready for use, from iron to netherite. (Y/N) took out a few diamonds and held them out to Tommy.

“Here’s to repaying favors.” They said as Tommy looked at them surprised.

The boy hesitated once more before taking the resources. “Thanks…See ya.”

Maybe they did have friends after all…

[voltagesmutter]

Lucifer x MC - Reunited

Pairing: Lucifer x MC (F).

Fandom: Obey Me.

Prompt:  Face-sitting || Creampie || Anonymous sex

Warning: Face riding (Female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, reunion, fluff, cock-warming, cream pie/ internal cumshot.

Notes: My final piece for kinktober from the marvellous @alloveroliver​​​ list.

Thank you as per to my beta’s @theinariakuma​​​ - I wouldn’t have made it at all without your help, your an amazing friend and thank you for everything. 

Also thank you to @sparrowwritesforop and @rikumorimachisgirl for betaing as well!

Golden strobes of light reflected off the crystal chandelier. Reflections glinting down onto the crowded floor below, cascading the audience in a hazy glow. 

All eyes had fallen onto the stranger who had entered, leather oxfords echoing off the tiled floor capturing the attention of everyone. Black hair with grey wisps at the end was slicked back, held perfectly without a single hair out of place. A black tuxedo with a white crisp shirt, a bow tie nestled just beneath the collar, power and pride radiating from his being. Capturing the gaze of everyone. 

That was until *she* followed under ten minutes later. Elegance and regalness beaming from every pore. Hair swept into a loose up-do, golden pins with diamonds kept it in place. A plunging neckline of red satin traced the curves of her body, settling and accentuating her petit waist whilst bringing out the ampleness of her bosoms. The material sitting just below her knees, a slit running to shortly stop just beneath her hip bone on the right side. A gemmed necklace hung perfect between the valley of her breasts. An uncut ruby, sparkling in the beams of the light. Garnet red, the same colour as the eyes who met her wondering stare-

 “-Lucifer…”

Dropping all of her graceful presence, she ran. Practically gliding on the air into his arms, the pathway clear for her to make a straight bee-line towards him. Without missing a beat he caught her, strong arms pulling her into an embrace as he swept her off the floor in a twirl. 

He’d anticipated her excitement the moment he saw her, senses heightened upon her arrival. A blur movement of them spinning to the rest of the world, the couple purely focused on each other with little regard to what was happening around them. His hands secured tightly on her waist before one of them moved to cup the back of her neck whilst he placed her back on the floor. A smug grin on his face as his fingertips came into contact with a studded diamond at the base of her neck, his pact, his mark of claim upon her skin. 

“What are you- Are you really-?” The young female questioned in shock, throwing her arms around his neck as if frightened if she let go he would vanish. “Lucifer, you're really here”. A warmth flooding his chest as she nestled into him, his lover, his human, finally back together after four months apart. The couple falling hopelessly in love with each other during her time in Devildom, giving themselves to each other for countless nights, letting her and his bed be shared in their passionate throes. The mixture of the headboard, the rickety springs and the sounds of them both was enough for his younger brothers (and anyone else, Diavolo) to know Lucifer's claim to the human. That he belonged to her just as much as she did to him. But the end of the exchange had seen her sent away, tears falling from her face as Barbatos opened the portal. 

‘I’ll fight for you to come home, I’ll find you, just wait for me and I promise I’ll bring you home where you belong with me’ Lucifer whispered between kisses, brushing away her tears. A man of honour, a man always of his word.

They’d been able to communicate thankfully to the D.D.D she had snuck into her purse, no-one thinking to check for it until it was too late. Able to text and call her beloved, to resume their love whilst apart over face-time. But it wasn’t the same as having his physical presence next to her, keeping her warm on cold nights or stroking her hair when in need of comfort. He had thought tirelessly against the rules and conduct to find a way to bring her home, until finally Diavolo turned to him. ‘You have always been the most loyal to me Lucifer, without you I fear the citizens may have revolted against me a long time ago. I feel it is in my power to re-pay you…’. Diavolo had sent him to the human realm to-

“I’m here to bring you home,” The purist of love spoke through his words, unable to hold back the smile that took over his lips to see the excitement growing on her face. The squeal that left her as she leaned up to kiss him, finally able to be back in the arms of the man she loved.

The event they attended was a charity ball, one Diavolo knew she would be attending as it was him who had sent the invitation, little knowledge to her about this. Diavolo had sent Lucifer here as means to collect her, she was still in shock to see him. To have him in her world being told she could finally come home after their time apart. It still felt surreal to her, like she was floating on cloud nine whilst she danced in the arms of her lover. 

“Can we go home now?” Big doe eyes staring up into his ruby ones, the plea in her voice as her fingers messed with his collar. Hidden away in the corridor, Lucifer pressing her up against the wall, hands roaming at the top of her dress with greed. His lips attacked her neck in soft kisses until she spoke, repeating a question she’d ask many times already that night. Lucifer reminding her she was a guest and that his honour demanded they at least stay for a while and that they would have everyday from now on to be at home together. They danced and mingled, stealing fleeting kisses, longing glances and lingering touches throughout the evening until Lucifer could take it no more.

“Yes my dear, it is time for us to depart,” A low groan to his voice, the desire clear in his eyes as he tugged her by the hand to the exit. Exiting quickly and ushering her into the parked limo.

“Diavolo sent it,” He answered her question before she could ask, cozying up to him as the divider between them and driver opened. Lucifer gave him an address, her address to be exact. She looked at him with a quizzical look of horror, was he sending her home? “We must pack for your arrival, my dear. We shall embark to Devildom in the morning,” He reached over tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. A glance followed by a nod at the driver sent the divider back up, Lucifer instantly pulling her onto his lap, “I know the minute we get home my brothers will demand your attention… and I fear it’s been too long, so forgive me for being greedy my love, but I refuse to share you this evening,” His lips instantly on her, her hands fisting into his hair as she pulled him closer, body’s flushed against each other. The feeling of having him back and the free champagne that had been flowing making their needs more urged than normal.

His hands ran up her thighs, bunching up the material of her dress as he did so. A low hum of approval to feel the, very little, underwear she was wearing. 

“Lucifer-“ A soft moan broke the kiss apart, fingers pulling her panties down they effortlessly fell off, hanging off one of her ankles. The pads of gloves replaced the material, stroking effortlessly against the wet of her slit before pushing one finger inside her. Hands tugged at his raven hair, pulling it out of place as her hips moved against his hand, another finger added shortly after. Lips attached to her neck, her mouth dropping and eyes screwed shut. She knew they weren't alone and that the need to be quiet was there, but with the way he stroked the inside of her, her skin and blood felt on fire. Whilst her body grew hot, hips rolling against his hand, her hands impatiently tugged at the button on his trousers. A plea full look of lust was shared, Lucifer lifting his hips to let her continue as she dragged down the zipper with haste. Black boxers stained from his leaking head, pushed down just enough for his cock to spring free. 

“Lucifer… please,” Shallowly stroking his length in her hand, heat pulsing from him, a low groan against her neck. Pulling his fingers from her, he wrapped them around her wrist to stop her, the wetness of her arousal from his gloves dripping down her wrist and around his cock. Time apart from cruel, Lucifer fearing if she handled him too much the first round would be over far too quickly. “I need you… hurry please!” Her voice slightly frantic, a mad woman driven by pleasure as she raised herself, aligning herself over his cock. Her arousal was enough to help him glide into her without much friction, stretching her in a pleasant burn each time she lowered and raised her hips until finally she took him fully. 

His lips crushed against her, holding her still with one hand on her waist whilst the other gripped the back of her neck. He took her moans, each one boosting his ego more as pride swelled his chest. To be back with his human, back inside his human. She tried to raise herself but the red nails kept a grip on her, somewhere between impaling herself on his cock he had shoved his arousal slickened gloves in the pocket of his jacket. 

“Not yet,” Followed by a nibble bite to her lower lip. He told her how he wanted to wait until they were at her house, so he could savour the moment and really make her scream.

“Please,” She whined once more, a desperate attempt to roll her hips but the iron grip on her refused her movements. The thin straps of her dress fell off her shoulders, letting her bare breasts spill free, his mouth already leaning down to catch a taunt nipple in his mouth. Her muscles clenched over him, the warmth of her pulling him into the deepest depths. Letting his mouth release the nub in his mouth with a wet pop.

The ride home was torturous, lips locked as teeth and tongue clashed against each other. The final time she tried to move caused a swift slap to her behind, a warning growl of Lucifer's throat and she knew better to push his buttons. “I’m sorry…” She whispered against his lips, tracing his bottom lip with her tongue, “I just need you so badly”.

"You waited four months my love, you can hold out another twenty minutes." Lucifer chuckled in her ear, caressing along her sides as he had her seated on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside her. 

"I.. Didn't have your cock inside me for four months." She's bit back only to whine as his fingers pinched at her nipple to reprimand her light back talking. 

The rest of the ride felt longer than it was, her tight cunt pulsing over him, gripping him to keep him from ever leaving her again. Every bump sent them closer to the edge of ecstasy, until finally the car came to a halt outside. Lucifer taking all his restraint to pull from her dripping core, patting her thigh as a sign to get up. Her dress adjusted to recover herself, underwear quickly rolled back up, messy lipstick wiped from around her mouth and hair smoothed. She bolted with weak knees to the front door. With shaky hands she hurried to put the key in the door, Lucifer pressing his body tightly up against her once bidding the limo goodbye. 

The door has barely shut behind her when she found herself pressed up against it, claws running down the side of her dress letting the fabric fall off her body in two halves. Impatiently his tongue pressed against her parted lips, gripping her thighs and dragging his hands all over her body. Her underwear torn in two, the sound of fabric ripping getting lost between the lewd pops of his mouth moving down over her skin. 

“Did you ever touch yourself?” He teased, breath hot as a trail of wet kisses pressed over her collarbone. A gasp leaving her speechless as he took a nipple once more in his mouth, teeth teasing the sensitive skin before twining his action on the other. His rain of kisses showered lower, a suckering puck over stomach just above her hip bone whilst fingers grazed over her sopping slit.

“You know I did…” Eyes rolled to the back of her skull, the soft thump of her head falling backwards against the solid wood of the door. Her referencing the many nightly videos of her fingers dancing across her thighs, disappearing under the pjs shorts before plunging into her core. The good morning showers of slippery sud hands covering her breasts with a teasing peak of skin underneath. The dirty phone calls leaving little to the imagination, the sound of buzzing flooding Lucifer's ear as she withered from the vibrating toy.

“It was the darker than the pits of hell,” The normally towering demon pressed down on his knees, guiding her leg over his shoulder from the soft grip of his hands over her thigh, “Lying in the bed you withered in without you there, the memories haunting me in mind and physical presence” His breath hot over her clit, core clenching at the first flicker of his scale over tongue over her flesh, “No matter how much I spilt on my hand… it was never enough”. Wet flesh of his tongue devoured her, ravishing her tight cunt like a starved man- a starved man driven with the need to please and pleasure. Lips suckled over her clit, strong hands curving and cupping her ass to keep her in place. Unable to control herself as she bucked against him, spreading wetness over his mouth and jawline. A scent and taste he’d craved every moment, that he would crave for the rest of his life. Hair disheveled, a layer of perspiration forming over her skin, one hand cupping and tugging her breast for added stimulation. Her moans groaned louder as he tongue delved deeper, deeper than her fingers or any toy could reach, his name rolling from her mouth like her hips rolled against his face. Knees buckling as she came, his strengthening grip on her keeping upright as her muscles pulsed over his tongue. 

“Fuck-fuck,” Her breath lost in whimpers, palm gripping into a fist as she slammed it against the solid door behind her. He finally wrenched himself away from her when she shuddered from over-stimulation. Through heavy lidded eyes she peered down to meet his strong-lustful gaze, cherry red burning up at her. Everything they wanted to say was conveyed through their look. 

-

“How do you want me?”. Her belly clenching in anticipation at his words. 

They just made it into the living room before all of his clothes were removed, her delicate fingers tugging off his bow tie which he had undone during the ride home followed by his shirt sending buttons flying across it. Her hair loose, hair pins lost in a trail of his clothes as they groped at each other with need. His trousers pushed down along with boxers, her hand wrapped back around his cock spreading the heavy bead of pre-cum over his thick girth. 

“How do you want me?” Taking her lip between his teeth as his hands ran up the curves of her sides. Without words she pulled back, sinking to her knees before resting on her elbows keeping her ass high. A glance over her shoulder was all she needed to convey what she wanted. Watching as he stood in awe as he stroked himself to the sight of her, staring at her spread thighs showing her glistening cunt in full view. And it was all his for the taking.

Her fingers twitched, grasping desperately at the carpet beneath her as he pushed into her until he bottomed out and was fully buried inside her. A string of curses fell from both of them as he started at a gentle pace, taking all his self-control to not pound her until she was begging for him to stop- it had been such a long time since their last physical intimacy he wanted to take his time. He was also a lot closer than he wanted to admit.

The soft clap of wet skin filled the silent house. The sheer size of his palms were enough to wrap fully around her waist, pulling her back into each thrust. 

“Oh fuck, Lucifer…” Jaw-slacked from the repeated hit of him inside her, sending sparks across her spine and vision. Electricity dancing over her skin as she came apart beneath him. Her orgasm hitting hard with little warning, a flood of warmth releasing from between her thighs as her hips pulsed backed backwards whilst Lucifer kept his steady rhythm to ride her through it. 

“That’s it’s princess,” He cooed softly into her ear leaning over her back to press the toned muscles of his chest against her. Pressing tender kisses as she continued to mewl under him, her cunt trying to milk him as her muscles continued to contract tightly over him. 

He continued to ease in his steady pace, enough to satisfy him but not push him over the edge. Wanting to last longer, to delve into her pleasure before his own. That was until it came out in a broken moan, ‘harder… please Lucifer… harder’. He grip tightened as he pulled her back a little harsher, but it wasn’t enough for her. The glance she gave him over her shoulder was enough to break his self-composter.

Black onyx wings spread out in full glory, ivory black horn sprouted in twisted curls, his pact shining like rising flares of fire between his eyes as he began to drive into her with wild abandonment. His eyes unable to be taken away from his cock disappearing and stretching her, the ripple of her ass as his groin slapped against her over and over until the skin began to redden from the impact. Bruises formed from his grip on her, leaving marks upon her skin for weeks to come of their passion. The curve of her back was mesmerising to him, her cunt swallowing him whole whilst attempting to grip him tighter each time he pulled back. 

“Fuck! Yes, there!” Her voice in a telltale whine, one that signaled her climax was close again. Sweat dripped as his movement pounded her into the floor, her arousal and previous releases creating a pooling mess over her thighs, his cock and his balls before puddling onto the floor. 

His climax followed quickly with hers, spilling and shooting hot release inside her in thick ropes whilst she shaked in his hold before collapsing to the floor. A string of drool dribbled from her lips, eyes threatening to shut as she took a few moments to come down from her high. Failing to realise, Lucifer was still buried deep inside her, still fully erect as he curved over her back pressing fleeting kisses up her salted skin. 

“I missed you,”... “I love you,” He whispered softly on repeat, praising her for how well she did. Until finally he pulled himself out of her, a predatory growl leaving him to see the mixture of their release leaking from her abused hole. It lit a primal need inside him, to leave her ruined and filled with his seed. A raw primal need that suited him.

“I love… fuck.. you too,” She panted heavily, letting him gather her in his arms as she rest on his chest. 

“Do you wish to go to bed?” He smiled, he knew her human body was fragile, that he could easily over stimulate her with a few touches. But rest was important, that he needed to be careful with her.

“No…” Her hand cupping his jaw, a contrast of sharpness in the softness of palm. Adjusting herself, she straddled him and took his erection in her hand as she lowered herself onto him. She had an insatiable appetite that only he could fill.

And she was currently starving. 

-

By the time the sun rose, the couple was passed out from their blissful night. The house a mess as they took each other over every surface and furniture they could find, by the time they made it to the bedroom their bodies were slick with sweat and her thighs coated in thick rivers of essence. 

Lucifer had spent part of the night between her thighs when she finally fell asleep, eyes zoned and focused on her bare thighs, speechless and growling low to see her physically weeping with his release. 

But finally when they both awoke, naked with a thin blanket draped over their spooning form. The only thing on their minds was to finally go back home and enjoy the rest of their lives together. 

Kinktober masterlist here.

[thesolferino]

being king george's servant .... pretty vague so go wild with that

1.1k words, later nsfw heavily heavily implied, mentions of nsfw, degradation

the first time he’d said it, you thought you didn’t hear him right.

“get on your knees.” george - or as you had to call him, your majesty - ordered, the glint in his eyes bouncing off the gold that embedded his throne and the heavy crown on his head.

he always kept it on, blue gemstones, flakes of diamonds and all. it was heavy, as a king’s crown should be, and his knight had always claimed that it’s there to keep his head high and straight at all times, although that had never stopped the king from complaining about it. yet he still kept it on for as long as he was awake - you knew that, because you were the one in charge of dusting it off and keeping it perfect for the next morning.

this was no exception; the gold sat on a mountain of brown hair beautifully, accompanied by a pair of equally warm brown eyes. it provided as much warmth as it did hostility, because king george was demanding, more demanding than most, always one to call for you for anything and everything, and threatened to replace you with another servant more times than you could count, and that’s exactly why he made dread seep into every pore in your body every time he called for you.

he called for you more often than not, because somehow, you were his favorite servant of all. you weren’t bad at your job, after all - far from it, you worked day and night for him, making sure to do the best you can to keep your job at trying times like the ones that just never seemed to end on the dream smp, wars upon wars that made you toss and turn and shiver at night.

keeping your job with the royals had proven to be a much tougher job than one could ever expect, though; it seemed like every day another one of your friends/coworkers would be packing their bags with teary eyes, leaving with sad smiles. everything always had to be perfect, and whenever you messed up a little bit, you were at risk of losing your job. knight dream took all of george’s complaints about his servants very seriously, so when king george yelled at you in front of him one time, dream was ready to fire you on the spot - but george wouldn’t let him, promised him it was just a fit of rage, that he shouldn’t fire you. dream side-eyed everything you did for the next two weeks, but you didn’t mind, because that was a scare enough that you did every single thing perfectly a month from the incident.

despite it all, you were convinced he hated you, even more than the others, because the others were almost always fired by dream without even a single word from george - dream was the owner of everything, after all. you, however, were always threatened by george himself. that’s why, the first time he’d said it, you thought you didn’t hear him right.

doe eyes stared back at you, sharp as all hell, and you almost trembled under his gaze. your eyes flicked down to the floor subconsciously, and then back to him, shoulders tensing up.

“what are you waiting for?” his words turn bitter again. harsh, impatient. “you’re here to serve me. i want you to get on your knees. do i have to repeat myself?”

“no, your majesty.” you manage to keep your voice somewhat stable as you look back at the floor and your knees start bending, but he stops you.

“no - here, in front of me.” his head points to where his legs are comfortably spread, feet resting on silky, red carpet. you swallow and step closer to him, abiding commands, knees folding but you still refuse to look at him, eyes permanently locked on the wooden floor below you.

you hear an exhale, something short of a laugh before a hand grips your chin firmly. “are you embarrassed?” he asks, and you refuse him the privilege of an answer, staying silent as your heart thumps louder and louder in your chest.

“look at me.” george orders and your eyes flick to his immediately, only for your breath to get painfully stuck in your throat when you realise he’s much, much closer than you thought. he’s inches away, body bent so he still sits on his throne but he can still ominously scan your face from centimetres distance, watching you like a predator. his crown still stays on, though, all gold and pretty colors even though the look in his eyes doesn’t fit royalty.

“are you embarrassed?” he repeats, and you can’t help but think about what a stupid question that is as you press your lips together, sealing them shut with invisible glue. “what will the others say, when they find out what you’re doing to keep your job? hm?”

your heart thumps louder, louder, louder to the point it feels like every organ in your body is crumbling. he still smirks condescendingly, voice low, quiet, and you know where this is going. “what will they say when they walk in on you stretched around my cock? what will the people say when they see you getting fucked on the same throne you serve, like my own little whore that you are?”

you gulp. you wanted him, you always have - his face always seemed to entangle itself in dreams that’d have you breathing heavy by the end, but you chalked it up to king george following you everywhere because essentially your whole life revolved around him, you had to - but not like this.

“i-if i have to do this to keep my job, i’m sorry, your majesty, but i-“

“oh, no you don’t. you’re by far the best of them, i wouldn’t throw away such a gem as you.” george reaffirms, and then gets just a little closer, to the point it’s almost unnoticable, but you’re forced to notice anyway. “but you want to. i know you do.”

god, how you wished he wasn’t right.

after a few seconds of silence and quietly scanning your face, he chuckles. “you just love taking my orders, don’t you? you love the fact that i’m your king, and you just have to shut up and take whatever i say or do.” your cheeks heat up and you can’t help but look back down at the floor, too embarrassed to stare into his eyes still.

he pulls away with a chuckle, and leans back into his throne with a sigh, hands on the waistband of his black, expensive pants. “now, be good and open that mouth for me. and that’s an order.”

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝑻𝒐 𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒌

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging, nor promoting mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong's face immediately lit up the instant your face appeared on the screen. Although it was late and he was tired after the long day of negotiations and trading, seeing you made his stress go away.

"Hi honey." You waved at him.

"Hi love. What you doing." He asked you, his chin resting on his hand.

"I'm currently watching over the little prince."

You turned your head to your right, a warm smile on your face as you looked at your little baby.

"Is he sleeping right now? Can you turn the camera to the crib?"

Looking back over to the camera, you chuckled and reached for the camera.

"He actually hasn't been sleeping for a while..." You responded as you began tilting the camera.

"Why? Is he napping too much during the-"

Hongjoong stopped midway when his screen showed off your son, his hands holding onto the bed as he stood up and tried to balance himself.

"Look! Daddy is here. Wanna come over and say hi?" You pointed to the screen.

The boy turned his head and began waddling awkwardly towards the monitor.

"Daddy!" He giggled softly, arms reaching up so you could pick him up to see Hongjoong more clearly.

Hongjoong was stunned and couldn't believe his eyes.

"My little boy is already walking?.... I need to get over there right now."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Given the fact Seonghwa had just come back from a rather stressing and extremely dangerous mission, your top priority was to make sure he was ok and safe. You attended to his every need, while simultaneously tucking your daughter in bed. So naturally, it had escaped your mind to tell him about your daughter first steps.

He ended up finding out the next day in the funniest way while you two were out shopping. He was so tired still that he was on automatic pilot, just pushing the shopping cart around and putting in things that someone was handing to him....

That someone being his daughter who was not in your arms but instead following you around and taking stuff back to Seonghwa.

"Thanks Princess." He finally spoke up when the girl gave him a lint roller to put on the cart.

Then his eyes did a double take as he realized the tiny girl in a pink jumper was casually walking back and forth.

"Whoah whoah whoah wait!"

Seonghwa picked her up, causing her to squeal, thinking he was going to play with her like he usually did at random times. Instead he just looked at her in disbelief.

"Did- were you just..?"

Coming over, you saw the way Seonghwa was eyeing her and you thought he was scolding her for some mischievous prank.

"What's wrong?" You asked.

"Did you know our daughter could walk?!" He demanded to know.

You mentally face palmed, finally recalling what it was you were forgetting .

"Oops?"

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

You slowly opened your eyes when you felt the bed shift behind you.

"Yu-Yunho?" You rubbed your eyes slowly.

"Shhh. Baby just go back to sleep." He told you as he kissed your forehead before letting into bed with you, quickly falling asleep beside you.

Looking at the clock, you saw it was almost 2 a.m., which didn't surprise you. If they ever got a big job, sometimes you'd go days within seeing him. But you were happy to have him back by your side, sleeping soundly as his arms held you close.

Hours after you had awoken, you just quietly made breakfast and tried to keep your twin babies from making too much noise so they wouldn't disturb their father, but that was nearly impossible to do. Not only did they inherit their father's endless energy, but recently they had learnt to walk and could not sit still. Deciding they were bored and wanted to play with their dad, they sauntered off into your room and came to the side of her bed where Yunho was sleeping.

"Daddy!" They both chanted as they began patting their tiny hands on stomach.

Yunho groaned softly as he began sitting up instinctively.

"What is it? Are the kids hungry?"

When his eyes fully adjusted, he was confused as to why you weren't there, only your twins standing in front of him with...

"Oh my god! How did you two get in here?!"

He watched in surprise as they each took his large hand and tried to pull him out of bed, demanding to he play with them. He just chuckled before getting out of bed.

"Ok ok ok, I'm up now my little angels."

Scooping them both up in his arms, he gave them both a kiss on their tiny heads.

"Now.....let's go see what other secrets you've been keeping from me."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

As soon as Yeosang stepped foot into the house, he was sauntering over to you, wrapping his arms around you before kissing you fervently.

"I missed you so much." He whispered once he pulled back, causing you to blush.

"We both missed you too." You assured him.

"Speaking of both, where's my little rascal? I have to show him something " He asked, already making way towards the nursery.

You shook your head.

"You won't find him there. Seonghwa took him over to his place for a playdate with his daughter."

Yeosang faked a tiny whine.

"If our kids get married, that means Seonghwa will be part of our family."

"Seonghwa already is part of the family isn't he?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Oh God no. I refuse to be related to him in any shape or form."

You simply rolled your eyes and were saved the trouble of saying anything when the front door opened. Seonghwa peeked his head in.

"Oh Yeosang! You're back! So nice to see you."

Seonghwa came inside, his daughter sitted on his right arm while his left hand was currently holding onto your son's hand.....

And your son was walking right alongside Seonghwa. As soon as he saw his father, your son ran up to him like lighting. Yeosang widened his eyes as he looked at Seonghwa, then at you then down at his kid before looking back at you again and then Seonghwa.

"Did he just walk in here and then ran up to me?"

Seonghwa and you let out a laugh at Yeosang's confused state. He composed himself though, bending down to pick up his precious son.

"Hi bud. I see you learnt to walk."

When the boy nodded, Yeosang pouted his lip at him.

"Kinda mean don't you think? Not even waiting for me to get back to show me."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

Although San wanted nothing than to cuddle with you and your tiny bundle of joy as soon as he came back, he settled for just spooning you on the couch while you watched a movie.

"You know it's been a while since we got some alone time." San whispered in your ear, his hand rubbing circles on your thigh.

"Don't get any ideas, our daughter will wake up any second now." You smacked his hand away.

San pouted and snuggled closer to you.

"Not even Byeol treats me as coldly as you do." He fussed.

You rolled your eyes.

"Sometimes I think you're a bigger baby than our actual baby."

San chuckled before putting his hand back on your thigh.

"Yeah but I'm also daddy....in more ways than one."

Just as you elbowed him slightly, you heard rustling coming from the nursery.

"Mama.." You heard your daughter call out for you.

"Yes baby?"

Although you sat up, you did not get up which confused San. Why were you not going to get your daughter out of her bed? His question was answered by the pitter patter of tiny feet coming in to join you in the living room. San gasped when he saw your daughter walk in, holding none other than Shiber in her hand. He pushed off the couch, nearly sending you toppling on the floor as he crouched down to look at the baby's eyes.

"My little jewel is walking?"

He was so overjoyed, he practically crushed her in his embrace as he kissed her all over her face.

"You're growing up so fast my gem."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi groaned in pain as he tried to sit up. Technically he wasn't supposed to, but being the stubborn man he was, of course he'd sit up. It was his stubbornness that got him injured in the first place and rushed over to Yeosang so he could fix him up.

Yeosang immediately called you to tell you he was fine but would need to rest for a while. Wanting to surprise him, not only did you prepare food and gifts for him, but you had a little trick up your sleeve that you knew he love to see.

Mingi shifted around in his bed, bored to death and constantly looking over at his phone, checking the minutes it took for you to arrive. When he finally heard the door click open, he became excited at the thought of seeing you again. He was expecting you to walk in, holding your son in your arms, but instead....... he was shocked to see your son practically zoom in by himself and stand at his side.

"Dada!!" The boy exclaimed, his tiny hands reaching up for him.

You walked in just when Mingi bent down to scoop him up.

"Mingi no! Remember what Yeosang said." You reminded him, afraid of him over straining himself.

"You learnt to walk while Dada was away?" He cooed at his son.

Mingi chuckled as he set his son on his lap, asking him to narrate to him all he did while he was away at work. You sighed and just opted for unpacking the lunch you brought while your son babbled away in his baby language.

Mingi just looked at the boy in fascination, completely forgetting about his injury. He was just so filled with happiness at seeing his family again.

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Taking advantage of the fact Wooyoung and the others would be back that day from their business trip, you decided to throw them a little party to welcome them back. They were all ecstatic to come back to food, while Wooyoung was just happy to be reunited with his queen and his princess.

"Where is she by the way? My baby princess?" He scanned around the backyard for any sign of her.

"Waaaah! She's walking!" Yeosang exclaimed as his god daughter came running from behind a tree and latched onto his leg.

"She's walking?!" Wooyoung screeched before looking at his baby then at you.

Gripping your shoulders, he was slightly mad.

"My heir and treasure started walking and you didn't think to send me videos? I didn't even get a message!" He whined.

You rolled your eyes and pried his fingers off.

"Oh shut up. It was meant to be a surprise and clearly, you're surprised."

Although still mad, Wooyoung decided to let it go and instead go bask in his daughter's love, which was currently being misplaced onto Yeosang.

"My little fairy! Come give your daddy a kiss!"

Wooyoung puckered his lips out as he went over to pick up his daughter, but instead, she giggled and began sauntering away from him.

"What the- hey! No! Princess daddy is over here!"

It was chaotic watching Wooyoung chase after your daughter who just kept running away from him, making him pout.

"You're not supposed to want to leave me until you're 16 and some punk tries to take you away from me! Come back here!" He demanded.

Not missing the opportunity, Yeosang scooped up his goddaughter when she ran past him.

"Well how about that punk tries to steal her away now?" He teased.

"I will strip you of your godfather title! Give me back my daughter before I start crying!"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

As soon as Jongho stopped foot inside the house, he heard his son yell for him. He was expecting to see you walk in with him in your arms, thinking you both stayed up to wait for him, but instead the tiny boy latched onto his leg, looking up at him with adoration.

"Did you just walk in here by yourself?" Jongho asked, surprised he was not only walking but stayed up by himself.

The little boy just clung harder to him and Jongho immediately picked him up. The boy hugged his neck like a koala, having missed his father terribly. Soon enough the little boy was dozing off to sleep to the sound of his father's singing, always working to put him to sleep. Jongho tucked him into bed, placing a kiss on his tiny head before going over to your bedroom, where you were currently turning on your bed lamp when you heard noises.

"You're back." You said as soon as you saw him.

"Yeah I am. I missed you both."

After placing a kiss on your lips, Jongho pouted at you.

"Wasn't expecting my son to learn to walk without me though."

You knew how Jongho was feeling. He often hated being away from you two for so long. He thought he didn't spend enough time with you both and it was seriously getting on his nerves.

"They'll be other things you'll be there for. Besides..."

Reaching for your phone, you opened up your gallery.

"I recorded it all for you so you wouldn't feel bad."

Jongho let you go back to sleep while he immersed himself watching the videos of you teaching your son to walk. A wave of sadness and warmth hit his heart. He loved the both of you so much and after missing this important part of your son's life, he promised her spend more time with you both. Setting your phone down, he pulled your sleeping figure close and smiled.

"I love you both. "

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[weareallstardustfallen]

empires recap - week of sept 18

the videos released from saturday, september 18 to friday, september 24 were:

-sausage's episode 31: he finds the elder guardians from fwhip and pixl's prank, kidnaps gem and scott with the help of joey, and builds a fighting arena with pearl

-shubble's episode 18, summarized by @aroallosupremacy: she works on her castle, deals with an accidental raid, and introduces the lore for her citizens

-fwhip's episode 22: he relocates his gunpowder to avoid thieves and discusses his plans for a vault, works with pixl to leave elder guardians in mythland, and builds a tinker's forge

-joel's episode 20: he builds a significant portion of his megabase, and plans to write a diss track on fwhip

-pearl's episode 8: she interacts with possessed!sausage, and builds a fighting arena with sausage

-joey's episode 20: he reacts to the new corrupted trees at his and fwhip's base, gains a new mount, and shows it to shubble

-sausage's episode 32: he confronts jimmy, distributes invitations to the fighting arena with pearl, and builds an embassy in pixandria

-joel's episode 21: he builds a new building, mezalean records, and writes and performs his diss track

detailed recaps under the cut!

sausage 31:

-sausage opens the video by stating that he thinks he’s probably around 85% corrupted -“there’s still a little bit of good inside me. for right now, though, we’ll see how it goes and how long that’s gonna last!” -he begins to talk about his plan to kidnap gem and scott, but is interrupted by mining fatigue from one of the elder guardians fwhip and pixl left; he kills the guardian and vows to figure out who put it there, asking mythland’s spies to help him do so -he brews some awkward splash potions, and brings them to the summoning circle; possessed sausage appears and converts them to splash potions of sleep -joey arrives, and they meet with xornoth to discuss the plan; it says to do what they like with gem but leave scott alive, as it’ll deal with him later and he’s part of a larger plan -they ambush gem and scott in rivendell and bring them to sausage’s dungeon, where they say that they know what the two are planning and start by demanding what gem is planning with the egg; she and scott say that it’s a baby and might not even hatch, but joey claims it isn’t worth the risk -gem tells sausage he isn’t a real wizard, and he kills her with the staff, followed by joey also killing her -they interrogate scott about his relation to xornoth, but decide they think he can go as he’s not as much of a danger; however, they change their mind when he says he’ll still banish xornoth -gem: “scott, maybe say less words” -they decide they have enough information and leave them in the dungeon, confident that they won’t escape; joey leaves -sausage gets bad omen from a pillager patrol and starts a raid at jimmy’s after killing the cow he was attempting to milk; possessed sausage appears briefly to comment on it and say that he’ll leave it for jimmy -he meets up with pearl to build the arena, and she comments on the corrupted tree which wasn’t there when they were building; he doesn’t know where it came from but thinks it’s probably xornoth and says he’ll blow it up later -mid-arena fight, possessed sausage appears, and pearl manages to kill him. shortly after respawning, he’s back to normal and has no memory of the end of the fight

shubble 18 (written by frog):

-Shubble builds her castle -She accidentally start a raid, though she manages to safely lock away her singular villager -She shows off her custom textured parrot, which looks like a woodpecker. -One of the pillagers manages to get into her mooshroom farm, but she successfully kills them while keeping some of the livestock alive. -She successfully defeats the raid, checking on the villager, who is still alive. -She asks the villager if he would like to be imbued with the spirits of the Undergrove. She stresses the fact that this is an optional change, and takes the villager’s actions to mean that they consent to this change. -She then ‘imbues the villager with a forest spirit’, using a nametag to change their skin to one that resembles a wooden golem. -She explains that the lore for her villagers and golems is that they are wood carvings that she imbues with forest spirits to give them life, bringing said spirits from the spirit plane into this plane. -The one villager that she had was a special case since Xornoth had summoned him for her to kill, which she had refused. -The villager, hilariously, ends up changing his job several times throughout the course of the episode. -Out of RP, Shelby comments on how it would be hilarious if Xornoth dressed as her for Halloween, since he seems to be obsessed with her. -She continues on building her castle. -She ends up accidentally using one of the two totems she gained from the raid, passing it off by saying she says she did this to attach her life to her kingdom symbolically.

fwhip 22:

-he decides that he needs to work more on protecting the grimlands, and starts by working on the mountain range -he talks with joey, who wants to know why there’s no corruption, and is offended when he says he composted it; joey claims it’s sacrilegious and kills him -he heads over to rivendell to build an embassy, hoping to retain some of his alliances -with that done, he relocates his gunpowder into his enderchest to avoid thieves, hoping to control the flow of gunpowder to xornoth’s supporters, but plans to build a vault to free up space in the enderchest -since it will be made out of copper, he meets up with pixlriffs, who explains that the corruption is damaged by copper; pixl also shows him the copper aging facility and gives him three and a half stacks of copper, but explains he now has his own supply when fwhip offers gunpowder to trade, and asks for information instead -pixl also shows him the farm he created from xornoth’s lava, and fwhip asks for his help on a heist; he agrees -fwhip: “you’re a fan of a heist, right?” -pix: “you had me at heist.” -fwhip describes his plan to bury elder guardians under mythland, and returns home to work on his stonemason population while they wait for sausage to log off -he provides blaze rods to pay for the copper, and goes with pix to find sponges; after some mishaps, they clear the sponge room and fwhip goes to dry out the rooms holding the elder guardians so that pixl can send them into the nether -they put an elder guardian in the blood well and another in sausage’s dungeon, but when attempting to put the third guardian underneath his iron form it dies, and they decide two is enough -he returns to the grimlands and begins creating a tinkerer’s forge, in order to build weapons and materials which can even the playing field between them and xornoth’s supporters -he takes advantage of the crystals xornoth left to use the lava as a power source for the forge, as well as getting more red glass since he’d been running low -he builds several towers to go near the forge and discusses his future plans to build an alchemical warehouse leading from the railroads that are connected to the forge -he starts work on a communal sugar cane paddy between his base and shubble’s to try and remedy his lack of sugar cane and provide a natural barrier between the two empires

joel 20:

-joel kills some horses for the intro, and explains he spent a long time gathering materials (and also broke a netherite shovel) -he decides to build the other half of the megabuild, which takes him three days irl, and finishes the other large towers -after cleaning up some missing trapdoors he shows it off with shaders and notes that the only major missing pieces are the walls and the central tower -before he can work on those, he plans on building a super-smelter -he comments on the corrupted trees and crystals from xornoth, but reaffirms that he doesn’t believe in the demon and therefore they aren’t actually there -he displays the creeper he’s trapped in a boat, wanda the watcher -joel says that because the demon’s not real, he needs to spice things up, and plans to write a diss track on fwhip with jimmy’s help, to which he agrees -to end the episode, he leaves pixl a note and some terracotta asking to arrange a meeting so he can get some copper

pearl 8:

-she notes that the beanstalk has grown, and partially absorbed one of the corruption tendrils, which she doesn’t think is good; she also plans to build on the beanstalk when it’s big enough -she decides to build a cactus farm, and notices the addition of the crystals -possessed sausage comes to welcome her to the dark alliance; she says she would like to play more games with xornoth and challenge it, but she doesn’t want to be evil -she tells him that he’s possessed and needs help; he denies it and says that it’s just his morning voice -he proposes the idea of a fighting arena, to which she agrees, but reminds him that she wants to challenge xornoth without being evil; when he threatens the others, she insists they’re not killing anyone -he again says it’s his morning voice and leaves while she tells him that she’s worried and she didn’t agree to killing people -sausage returns, this time unpossessed, and doesn’t remember being there the first time but he again says it was his morning voice, and deflects when she tries to ask about it -he agrees again to the idea of a fighting arena, but says he didn’t come up with it; he says “help” and flies off, and pearl says she needs to work on cultivating her plant in order to help him -she discusses sausage and again says she wants to fight, not be evil, and says she’ll pretend to be in the evil alliance to try and make him good again and help him fight the possession -they build the arena, and pearl comments on the fact that the corrupted tree doesn’t fit with the arena -they fight in the arena, and sausage is possessed mid-battle; when he does, the video takes on a red tint, which clears when she kills him; when he returns to normal, he doesn’t remember it, and she claims his bloodlust took over, and warns him to be careful -he mentions that he has scott and gem in his dungeon, and goes to check, but the cells are empty, and she wonders if she needs backup or if she could convince sausage to let them out

joey 20:

-he plans to kill jimmy for freeing gem and scott, and says he needs an army since sausage is his only ally -he’s found a spell to turn a horse into a terrifying creature, so he needs a horse -he sees that there’s been more corruption, and finds it beautiful, but he’s jealous that fwhip received more; he distracts himself by going to find a horse, but can’t find one -he notices the dragons at gem’s tower, and is angry that they’re there but says they spark a memory from a past life which he can’t quite recall -he bumps into scott, who says this is his village, and warns him away from hurting jimmy, but points him in the direction of horses -he finds a horse, and isn’t able to bring it down to xornoth’s den; he does tell xornoth he needs his magical abilities to convert the horse, and turns the horse into a raptor, and also plans to get more raptors once he has a place to keep them -he goes to the nether to get ancient debris, because scott insulted his bow for being basic, which he admits is true, and then remembers that netherite bows don’t exist; instead, he goes to ask xornoth for a better bow, which it provides -because scott isn’t online to show the bow to, he goes to show the raptor to shubble, intending to scare her; she denies any responsibility for the wolf spirit’s messages, which he clearly doesn’t believe

sausage 32:

-the episode opens on a flashback to 3 months prior and narration by an unnamed figure who refers to him as “our king” and discusses sausage’s destiny, and claims to have been making sure he followed the right path -sausage says he can’t take this much longer, and he’s losing track of time; he also says that his death will come sooner or later, and he’s learned to just deal with it -he decides to spare a wandering trader because they sold miniature tnt, but he’s briefly possessed and kills them; when he returns to normal he assumes they left -he takes food down to gem and scott, and discovers that they’re no longer there; he states revenge is coming -he feeds bubbles and the general, and learns jimmy freed the prisoners, and added more height to his wall; he says he’s going to snap and goes to the cod empire, where he explains some of the possession and how he started a raid, and jimmy demands he replace his villagers, which sausage agrees to -he is possessed, and confronts jimmy about releasing gem and scott and making his wall taller than sausage’s; jimmy says he wants the old sausage back, and sausage he’ll never see him back again before he tries to kill him and leaves villager heads on chains where his villagers were -he meets up with pearl to distribute invitations to the arena; first they go to fwhip, who threatens them with a bow and demands to know what they want. he and fwhip shoot each other a few times, and he listens to pearl’s pitch before he and pearl decide they should leave -they head to joey’s empire, and confirm they didn’t place the mushrooms that are everywhere and invite him to the arena. he agrees to come -they leave an invitation at gem’s tower, and sausage takes one of the swords on her wall despite pearl’s discouragement -they also leave an invitation for scott, and pearl again says they need to cure sausage: he says “one day this’ll be all over” -katherine, pixl, lizzie, joel, and jimmy are left invitations as well -they give shubble an invitation and initially claim it’s for a party, sausage mentions an underground betting ring he’s going to run and a “special guest” who they claim isn’t xornoth -he also asks her about the wolf spirit, who she says must not be one of the emperors -sausage hides gem’s sword in one of the barrels, and is briefly possessed- pearl has him drink milk in an attempt to cure it, which fails, and he again says normal sausage is gone -as revenge for the elder guardians, he builds an embassy uninvited in pixandria, which includes some kind of “special treat”

joel 21:

-joel decides not to work on the megabase, as he did a lot of it last episode -he goes to scare lizzie, which fails, and asks her for a line for the diss track -he says he wants to build a relaxing place to write it, and takes down one of the tentacles to make room for another building; it turns out to be a mezalean record shop -he does some terraforming and builds the record shop; he writes the diss track, and goes to meet with pixl for copper; he mentions that there’s a new building from sausage, which pix hadn’t noticed. there is a perpetual bell-ringing device inside, and pixl enters, but joel cuts there, saying that it’ll be better to watch pixl’s video -he makes “the demon’s worst nightmare” which is an efficiency 5 hoe, though he still insists the demon doesn’t exist and someone is trolling him -he and jimmy go to perform the diss track on fwhip, which is actually a “kiss” track instead, and they agree to kill scott together sometime; jimmy says he can’t because he and scott just became allies