#like are you purposefully trying to make me weep?????

[scoobysnakz]

i am genuinely so sorry for disappearing for a while. things have been hectic with family and school and stuff and i forgot how tumblr works for a while too but ive got seveal drafts nearly done to be posted soon !!! but again i am so sorry !! (not proofread so i am so sorry)

loser miguel who pulls you into the nearest storage room, large hands hungrily gripping your waist. he’s hasty to lock the door behind the two of you, somehow managing to simultaneously keep the kiss going. his hands greedily roam around your body, lingering on every peek and curve as if he’s trying to memorise the feeling of you.

it reeks of damp and you’re certain you saw something moving on the floor but you couldn’t care less.

he’s unsure of how it happened; all he knows is that you pulled away from the hug and smiled up at him with those soft pouty and lips and suddenly the only thing his brain could focus on was how pretty they’d looked wrapped around his cock.

loser miguel who presses you against the wall, not caring for the mop he just knocked onto the floor, you kiss him too sweetly for him to pay attention to anything else.

he pants heavy breaths against your neck as his lips trail down towards the collar of your shirt. “gonna be a good chica?” he questions.

you whine a compliant yes and that’s all the permission he needs before sliding down to his knees. his hands are quick to unbutton your jeans and letting them drop to your ankles.

loser miguel who’s thumb slowly traces circles around the wet patch directly above your clit. “wet from a few kisses?” he teases, smirking as you scowl distastefully down at him.

he keeps a slow, purposefully teasing pace, revelling in the tiny whines that weasel through your tightly pursed lips.

“don’t be like that,” he scolds lightly, “let me hear you.”

loser miguel who is knuckle deep in your cunt. his long fingers being this skilled shouldn’t surprise you, you’ve always assumed miguel’s had plenty of practice pleasing other women but the things he’s making you experience right now… it feels almost blasphemous.

every fibre of your being is thrumming with pleasure, your breathy moans vouching for it. his fingers repeatedly curl up into that sweet spongey spot deep inside that makes you shudder and the way he’s praising you for it has both your stomach and cunt fluttering.

loser miguel who stares at your dripping folds with with wide, almost hungry, eyes. his mouth waters as he wonders how sweet you taste, how long he could live off on your taste and needy moans alone.

he presses a teasing kiss to your weeping bud that makes your hips instantly jolt upwards. “patience is virtue,” he says before pulling his fingers out of you.

you feel hopelessly empty now. his thick fingers had stretched you out so well, given you a feeling of fullness no man has before.

“please,” you whine, hands feebly reaching for his own and trying to redirect them back to your leaking entrance. but he pays no attention to how desperate you are for him, as hard as it makes his cock.

you can’t quite wrap your head around how he’s getting off on this. you thought he wanted this as badly as you, was equally as needy for the physical contact. yet here he is, teasing you so cruelly that you’re almost certain it’s a form of torture.

he looks you in the eye, a glint of something you can’t quite place making your heart race, and licks the tip of his finger. your breath quickens as you watch, almost sinful groans rumbling from his chest.

loser miguel who continues to make a show of licking your juices off of his fingers, revelling in your envious whines as you desperately plead for his touch.

loser miguel who has no idea how long you’ve been waiting for this too, how short your patience is when you’re on the brink of orgasm, how the carnal desire is mutual.

it’s his turn to let out a soft whimper as you firmly place your hand on the back of his head, guiding him back towards your cunt.

“miguel.” that sweet, submissive tone is gone, completely replaced by a sudden desperation to just feel him again.

your eyes bore down into him, one of the most physically intimidating men your eyes have had the pleasure gracing, and you suddenly realise who has the control here.

“make me cum.”

loser miguel who does just that. he obediently laps at your folds as his hands grip your inner thighs. his tongue circles your clit over and over, flicking your sensitive bud until you’re practically dripping onto his face.

your face burns bright at the lewd slurping sounds that fill the cramped storage cupboard. you can hear him panting heavily, the warm breath that ghosts your cunt making it twitch, and slurred mumbles of how good your juices taste.

as he picks up his speed you feel your stomach tightening. instinctively, your hands slide through his dark curls. your hips stutter forwards, pressing firmer against his face and he gladly obliges.

“cum for me, mami,” he murmurs, still hungrily devouring your cunt.

and you do just that. with a sharp inhale, your head falls back and your legs go limp. pleasure engulfs you like a hot, thick blanket as you helplessly call out his name.

it’s music to his ears, your breathy moans of his name. if he wasn’t already, he’d be growing painfully hard. he can’t get enough of it, knowing it’s because of him that you’re cumming so beautifully.

(let me know if you want to be removed) tag list: @lacedinweb22 @xxyaoi-nationxx @farrowroyale @mynamesstevenwithav @m4dyy @pinkismylife@kenz-ee @queerponcho @mcmiracles @nic-stars @ella-unenchanted04 @basedpear @rhythmloid @safixiovi @braverthanthenewworld @sad-author-san @envyjmoney @poeticmoonspirit @avatar-lover @stopxplease @lauraolar14 @straw-berry-ghoul @babygirl7777 @iluvoaldmen @stressed-cherry

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[woundedoves]

Okay hear me out dr ratio x gn reader sitting on his lap with a vibrator inside them while doing a test exam if they get a question wrong ratio turned the setting of the vibrator into a higher one, if reader actually finished their exam but some questions are wrong hes gonna punish reader. (Tbh idk what kind of punishment you can go all out as freaky you can be)

Dr. Ratio x Bottom GN!Reader (NSFW)

a/n: why do i feel like my writings getting even worse… or is that just me being insecure

CW: use of vibrator… and i cant think of anything else. not proofread!!

Word Count: 527

“Wrong. Try again.” You whine softly as he ups the setting on the vibrator inside you, making your stomach flutter as the sensations envelop your whole body and you cling to the edge of the desk, your legs pressed against Ratio’s own as he keeps you steady with one hand around your waist and points to your mistake with the other. You gulp as you twirl your pen a few times on your slightly trembling fingers. Your whole body feels hot to the touch, he’s very aware and yet so cruel with his ignorance and nonchalant tone of voice.

You moan abruptly as the vibrator hits that sweet spot when you shift on Ratio’s lap a little bit, covering your mouth in embarrassment as he throws you a look. “You have 2 questions left, if I were you I’d focus.” You nod hurriedly as you give everything you have to the questions even as he purposefully, subtly rolls his hips, even as your thighs quiver you finish the test with shaky hands and look at him with hopeful eyes as he evaluates it.

Your stomach sinks when he clicks his tongue, “7 out of 10, not a bad score but… I expected better.” You open your mouth to protest as he shakes his head, puts the paper back onto the desk, and parts your legs with one hand.

His hand snakes up past your sex as you whimper and roll your hips, gasping when the vibrator brushes against that spot that has you grinding down on his groin. You hear a very soft gasp escape his lips as he takes your hips with both of his hands and grinds you down onto his crotch, eliciting a whorish moan out of you as he bites his lower lip and takes a breath.

“You’re gonna cum from that vibrator and nothing else, my hands will stay firm on your hips until you do. We may kiss but that’s it,” he looks at you teasingly as you whine, “too bad, dear, should’ve concentrated better hm? I’m sure you’re close anyways.” His hands squeeze your hips as your breathing fastens, greedily capturing his lips and sucking on his tongue as you feel him shiver under you, grinding your hips onto him.

“Then– fuck –you’ll fuck me right? Please, please ratio I need you inside… ah fuck–!” you cry out as you feel your walls tighten around the toy when he ups the vibrator setting to as high as it can go, it’s not enough to hurt but enough to make your whole body shake, feeling Ratio’s dick harden against your ass as you whine his name reverently as you feel that knot inside tighten more and more.

“Ratio ‘m gonna cum– I–” he dives in for a kiss as you moan into his mouth, your chest heaving with want as you feel the knot snap, your whole body shaking with pleasure as hot waves of ecstasy envelops you whole and your sex weeps, staining his pants. You cling onto him as he peppers your face with kisses, “You did well,” he hums as he massages your thighs, “bend over for me.”

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

UHHH UHH UHHHHH MPREG NIKTO BE UPON YOU 💥💥💥💥.

NSFW FOR A BIT, LIKE ONE PARAGRAPH. ALSO INTERNALIZED FATPHOBIA AND HATE AND IDK NIKTO CALLING HIMSELF AN UGLY BASTARD BUT ALSO WANTING TO BE YOUR HOUSEWIFE IF THAT MAKES SENSE IDK ALSO SOME LACTATION. BECAUSE Y'KNOW. AWOOGA HONKERS MOMMY MILKERS??? BUT ALSO SAD EMOTIONAL NIKTO CAUSE I LOVE HIM.

Mpreg Nikto who gets even more chubby during pregnancy and is just so soft :(. Thighs and chest filling out more while he complains about his tits leaking into his clothes :((.

Nikto who barely even goes out when his body gets so hormonal, just grinding himself over and between your thighs, hands pulling at your scalp while you suck at his tits. Whining harshly through pained breaths whenever you spell out your name on his tits :((.

Clawing at your back whenever he comes, drenching your pants even more than his arousal already has.

Nails leaving small marks of his across your neck, being hormonal enough to weep softly at his own actions while he helps you clean up and dress the wounds. :(.

"We apologize", but he's sobbing so softly and sadly you can't even be mad at him. Only hugging him close and tighter while he silently cries into your shoulder :(.

—

Nikto who will never get used to being taken care of even as much as his body needs it, only tolerating it as much as he is soft for your touch.

"Ah I can-"

"Nonsense, let me do it."

"If you don't let me, I am going to yell."

"Understandable."

Happy and content that he is to fold the clothes. Letting himself turn into your housewife while you work just to keep himself calm and stable, at least he's found a few hobbies in his once in a lifetime break, what a relief.

Though he's much more relaxed while he is at home it doesn't mean he's sane, he tells you what he does in his day but he doesn't tell you how much he misses you outside of the normal emotions he deals with.

"I have missed you", but he doesn't mention how he almost threw up because you weren't there and you weren't ever going to return because he is an ugly fat bastard-

"I love you", but he doesn't mention how his heart rips up the inside of his cage just to try and get to you. Bloody and ravenous in all his ways while he holds you as tight as he can without hurting the baby, chest to chest and he breathes that he'll be okay.

"I've made dinner", and he'll scream inside his head how much he hates that you've made him into what he is. Soft, desperate and dependant on you, as if any second without your mere presence drives him crazy and it does. But at least he has someone to talk to while you're away. The meds will hurt the child eitherway.

"Thank you", but he'll never say how much it feels right for you to milk him dry, drinking him out like he was your only source of water. He'll never say how right it felt to feed you every day of every night, just your sweet little housewife to provide and take care for you.

—

Nikto who likes it when you put a hand on his belly before you sleep. Resting your head on his shoulder and another around his back. Legs intertwined and just nestled up and wrapped around you. Sleeping comfortably for the first time in a long time, tilting his head purposefully just to connect with yours. Pulling you closer by your back just enough so your chests connect.

××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××

Masterlist

[shalomniscient]

lord above and below i’m so down horrendous for clorivia it’s not even funny 😭😭 brainrotting a clorivia x reader fic where you run a cafe with arguably the best macarons and tea in fontaine, which of course, in turn attracts rather high profile clientele to your humble store. two of your favourite customers just happen to be the most downright sinfully beautiful women in all of fontaine: the president of the spina di rosula, lady navia, and the one and only champion duelist, lady clorinde.

they used to come here often, together, in a younger, softer time, all intertwined hands and chaste kisses. but time crawls ever forward, and life is ever cruel. you see it in real time as they fall apart, a bystander constrained to the sidelines. it hurts, maybe more than it should, but you are nothing if not a good host. you sit with navia and rub her back as she weeps quietly into your shoulder, and you hold clorinde’s hand as she stares forlornly at her tea, that look of guilt seemingly etched permanently onto her face.

the wounds don’t heal, not truly, but they scab over. navia no longer cries in your arms, blossoming into her role as the president of the spina di rosula. she brings you her own baked goods sometimes, helpfully carried by the two impeccably dressed men flanking her at all times. she always sits next to you in the little private room in the parlor, pressed flush to your side as she chatters about the goings-on in fontaine. her cheer is infectious, and there’s always a smile on your face that you can’t seem to shake for the rest of the day when she leaves.

clorinde is still as reserved as ever, but she looks more like herself than she did after that fateful duel. she stops by rather often, but doesn’t stay for as long as navia does, getting a quick fix of tea before heading off to the opera epiclese. but nonetheless she always makes time to talk with you, gloved hands somehow always finding your own, idly playing with your fingers as she grumbles about some idiotic dispute she was hired to settle between cousins, or how a certain friend of hers wouldn’t stop pestering her to try and get your top-shelf teas for him on discount. (you try and give her some to pass to him, but she only looks you dead in the eyes and blandly says, “don’t. he hardly deserves it.” you, as an ever excellent host, decide not to question it.)

such was the status quo for the next decade. somehow, navia and clorinde coordinated their visits in such a way that they would never cross paths. your chest ached as you grieved what once was, but what right did you have to pry into that deep, festering wound? you could only pray to some higher power—certainly not furina, regardless of how entertaining she was as an individual—that someday those two might find peace yet again.

your prayers are miraculously answered in the form of a blonde traveler, who in the span of two weeks solved the serial disappearance case and somehow managed to get clorinde and navia speaking again. frankly, it sounds insane, but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

clorinde comes to you first with the news, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen the champion duelist as anything other than calm, cool and confident. there’s a flush to her cheeks and the slightest hint of a rare, girlish smile on her lips as she tells you, and for a moment you’re seized by how cute she is.

“navia… asked me to have tea with her,” she says slowly, though her giddy energy is difficult to ignore. “is her— are her tastes still the same?”

navia never lost legendary sweet tooth, and you inform clorinde as much. she brightens immediately, like a puppy that had just been praised. it’s so ridiculously cute you feel like your heart would burst. and then she’s pressing her lips to the back of your hand in farewell, before striding purposefully down the street, no doubt in the direction of the nearest bakery to scope out her options.

(and you pretend you don’t feel the gnawing loneliness in your belly, because you love her. you love her, more than you know, and more than you should.)

navia visits next, more put together than clorinde, but you’ve known her long enough to notice the nervousness in the restless movement of her hands. navia wilts on the plush cushions of the parlor, draping herself across your lap.

“it’s been so long, i don’t know if i— if clorinde—“ she begins, her voice tense and maybe even a little afraid. “what if i don’t know her anymore?”

you brush navia’s golden curls back with your hand, and meet her eyes. “isn’t that what you invited her to tea for? to relearn what you forgot, and learn what is new?”

“you always know what to say, don’t you?” navia sighs ruefully, but her eyes twinkle with affection. it makes your heart pitter-patter in your chest.

“well, i am a wonderful host.”

“yeah,” navia murmurs, her gloved hand reaching up to take your hand. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

her tone is achingly sincere, and you look away. a part of you fears what you would find in her gaze. a greater part fears what she would find in yours.

(love. love, steeped in the quiet confines of your soul for longer than you remember. a love that you would never give voice, because you know it is not you who navia loves.)

their fateful tea date eventually rolls around, and you hope they don’t see the way your smile wobbles as you see them walk in, navia’s arm tentatively looped around clorinde’s. clorinde says something and navia throws her head back and laughs, soulful and sweet and nothing you’d ever achieved before. you lead them to the private parlor, and before either of them can insist that you stay, for old time’s sake, you rattle off some excuse about needing to take inventory. you don’t linger long enough to see their expressions twist in concern, slipping out the door and shutting it behind you. it takes all of your willpower not to slide down the door and choke out a sob.

really, it makes no sense. they’re your closest friends. if anything, you should be ecstatic that they’ve sorted out the bad blood between them, and are mending their relationship. so why— why does your traitorous chest feel like it’s on fire when you see them together?

(deep down, you know why. you wished so desperately that they would look at you like that—like you hung the stars in the sky, like you’re more than just some normal person who happens to own a tea shop. like you’re more than just a friend.)

but you are nothing if not an excellent host, so you pack your bleeding heart back into a neat little box and go on with your work. clorinde and navia spend nearly the entire day in the parlor, and you have a waiter pop in every once in a while to top-up the tea and snacks. after the third refill, he mentions offhandedly, “i didn’t know lady clorinde and lady navia were that close! they were practically all over each other.”

your other staff coo and giggle conspiratorially, but it feels like someone had driven a blade through your chest. tears sting at your eyes and you blink furiously to clear them. in the end, you leave the shop early, passing the responsibility of closing and cleaning up to your most senior staff member. he doesn’t question your sudden need to return home, but he does put a gentle hand on your shoulder, as if to comfort you, even if he doesn’t really know what was happening.

distantly, you think you should give him a raise. he was certainly an excellent host.

you drown your sorrows in red that night, not bothering with a glass and heading straight for the bottle. you know a few nobles who would cease their patronage at your shop if they ever saw you comitting such alcoholic blasphemy, but unfortunately for them you could not find it in yourself to care. self-loathing and something just like heartbreak swirl like a storm in your soul, fierce enough that an entire bottle was barely enough to dampen it.

as you lie in bed, alone, you wonder what it would be like to share one with either of them. would clorinde curl around you, the big spoon, ever protective and honourable, even in sleep? would navia bury her face into your shoulder like she used to, her warm breath tickling over the skin of your collarbones?

in the end, you curl in on yourself.

(you wish it was enough.)

you make it a point to busy yourself with something whenever they come in together. you fire off practiced excuse after excuse whenever they invite you to join them—a meeting with a business partner, another advance booking by a client, or simply that you were just too busy. they’re weak and flimsy, but clorinde and navia do not try to get you to stay, either.

yet for some reason, they become more tactile with you than ever. navia clings onto your arm whatever chance she gets, interlocking your fingers together because she likes the way they fit in hers. clorinde tends to hover behind you sometimes, a steady hand on your lower back as you move through the crowded teahouse, her touch warm even through her gloves and the layers of your own clothes.

you can hardly look either of them in the eye anymore, and you can hardly stand to touch them, even the slightest brush of either of their fingers against your skin feeling like you’re being burned. like their touch might cut you open and suddenly you’d be bleeding your foolish longing all over the carpet.

no. you could not— would not let that happen. you wouldn’t be the one to get in between them like that. truly, you’d rather die. so you pull back and back and back, but what you don’t expect is how navia would go so far as to corner you one night as you close up the shop, her brows knitted in worry. it was just you and her, since you had sent your staff home early.

“are you alright?” she asks gently, as if she might scare you off if she spoke too loudly. “did i— have i done something to upset you?”

“no!” you sputter before you could stop yourself. “no, not at all! it wasn’t anything that you did.”

navia frowns. “but it is something.”

you bite your tongue, and look away from her piercing, blue gaze. her intelligence was always something you’d admired about her, but having it be used against you was nerve-wracking.

“it’s nothing, navia,” you whisper, mustering all your willpower to not let your voice splinter. “i have to go.”

you make to back out the door, only to collide with a lean frame. you crane your neck back and your breath hitches as your eyes meet electro purple—clorinde.

“i’m sorry,” she says, a quiet firmness in her tone, “but i cannot let you leave until i—we—understand what’s happening.”

“you both…! it’s really nothing!” your voice has gotten uncomfortably pitchy, desperation settling in your bones like dead weight. “i’m alright, really!”

“you’ve been avoiding us,” navia points out. “you can hardly even stay in the same room with both of us.”

“i don’t— i would hate to impose,” you say lamely. “i’m sure you both have plenty to catch up on, and i don’t need to be there for something so… private.”

“we want you to be there,” clorinde counters with a shake of her head. you almost laugh at the unassuming cruelty of her words.

“why?”

“because i love you,” navia says, taking your hands in hers, and for a moment you forget how to breathe. the world spins and your knees nearly give out beneath you, but clorinde is there, steady as a hammer, her front pressed to your back. she leans down, and her lips ghost the tender skin of your neck. “we love you.”

“navia is right,” she murmurs against your flesh. “i’m sorry that we perhaps did not make it clear enough for you.”

“this— what are you both even talking about? is this some kind of joke?”

navia looks almost hurt by the accusation. “of course not!” she takes one of your hands and places it on her chest, her expression one of resolute determination. “can you feel my heartbeat? can’t you feel my sincerity?”

beneath your palm, navia’s heart beats steady and true and devastatingly honest.

you bite your lip, a weak noise between a sob and a wet, disbelieving laugh bubbling from your throat. navia moves closer, wiping the tears from your eyes, much the same way you did all those years ago. after a moment, all you can manage is a weak, exhausted, “why? why me?”

you are just the owner of a tea shop. navia is the president of a national organisation well-known for helping the fontainian everyman. clorinde is the champion duelist, the best human combatant in all of fontaine. hell, you don’t even have a vision! so why—

“because you’re you,” navia answers, an easygoing smile lighting her features. “after my father died, i was lost. i didn’t even know what i wanted to do, or how i felt. if i was angry, or if i was sad. but somehow, you always knew. you were the only one who didn’t treat me like glass. you know, i don’t think i would be the person i am today without you.”

“after that duel, you were the first person to ask if i was alright,” clorinde adds softly, so close you could feel her breath fan along your ear. “you’re also the only person who picked up on my nightmares. in those coming weeks, the only reason i could sleep at night was thanks to your blends. no one… no one else cared about me like that. you’re extraordinary.”

oh, you’re really sobbing now. they’ve gone and done it.

“but aren’t you both already…?” you force out between each shaky inhale. oh archons, if you had to choose between one or the other you really would die tonight.

“yes,” clorinde affirms, “but we want you to be part of it too.”

“it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” navia says hurriedly, “we can forget this conversation ever happened. your friendship still means a lot to us.”

“no,” you admit. “no, i don’t think i can stay just friends. i’m a little too in love with both of you for that.”

navia beams, and she’s looking at you like you’re the centre of her world. her hands cup your cheeks, smoothing over the ridge of your cheekbones. behind you, clorinde chuckles, a low rumble as she nuzzles her face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as her arms loop around your waist. navia leans in close, so close that her words are whispered right against your lips.

“can i kiss you?”

you answer her by surging forward and pressing your lips to hers. she greedily drinks you in, the taste of salt from your tears and the sweetness of her lip gloss mingling. navia kisses you with fervor and infectious joy, that you’re both giggling almost deliriously as you pull apart.

“i think clorinde would like a kiss too,” navia coos suggestively, wiggling her brows at the duelist behind you. clorinde rolls her eyes good-naturedly, but tilts your head up and to the side with a gloved hand, and slots her lips against yours.

your lungs empty of air as she kisses you, an electric feeling thrumming in your veins. clorinde tastes like rose tea, a blend you made especially for her, and your stomach flutters. her large hand cups your jaw as her tongue teases the seam of your lips, drawing a breathy noise from you. at some point, navia had moved closer to you, your fronts pressed flush together as she nosed at your neck, peppering the sensitive skin with butterfly kisses.

“i love you,” you whisper, sandwiched as you were between them. “both of you.”

navia hums against your neck, kissing your racing pulse. “we know.”

“we love you too,” clorinde finishes for her. she kisses you again, chaster this time, but when she pulls back there’s a glint in her purple eyes that makes heat coil in your belly. “we’ll make sure to show you tonight.”

[madhogthymaster]

This is Not a Review of In Stars and Time

Let us set the stage.

An entity known as The King has cast a horrible curse upon the land, freezing people in time. It's up to the Chosen One and her friends to save the day. After a long journey, the party arrives at the final town right before the final battle with the final boss. He awaits the heroes at the final castle which was once the house of worship to Change Themselves.

You, the player, are the second to last party member (who joined right before the cute mascot character) and you find yourself "blessed" with the symbolically relevant ability to loop in time - which you discovered after being suddenly crushed to death by a big rock with a sense for dramatic irony. Now, admittedly, the prospect of dealing with Groundhog Day related shenanigans might seem daunting, at first. Dare I say, it might even be emotionally and psychologically taxing, in the long run. However, do not panic! A volunteering social worker has already been sent to "assist" you with your predicament. You can trust them completely.

Now that we have dispensed with the formalities, let's get down to business to defeat The King. Use your newfound powers to help your friends navigate the castle, climb the floors, overcome the obstacles. Be ready to repeat all that several more times. You know the drill. Perhaps, if you do everything right, your buff boyfriend will finally confess his feelings to you.

Wouldn't that be swell?

Wouldn't it?

It would be nice.

It sure would.

...

There will be no additional plot synopsis, at this time.

As I type these few words of appetizing anticipation, I find myself in a predicament of my own: I played In Stars and Time and now I have to talk about it. I have many emotions swirling, dancing incoherently within the very fabric of my being. Feelings that I must convey to you before The Moment passes, you see. I'm not sure I can, though. I'm not sure I can steel my trembling hands for long enough to wax poetically about this being, without hyperbole, one of the best games I played in the past decade. A masterpiece with many juicy layers waiting to be peeled back, one by one. I don't have the energy to write the monstrous essay it deserves for all I want to do is sit in a corner and weep quietly for a few hours, trying to process it all. I'm sad not because it's over but because I can't experience it for the first time ever again. Which is an ironic statement considering the nature of this game, I realize. Allow me to try this again.

Let us set the stage.

In Stars and Time is is a cleverly designed title. The time loop structure works both as a gameplay and thematic device, a means to (purposefully) emphasize the monotonous nature of the RPG grind in relation to the protagonist's deteriorating state, cycle after cycle, play after play. You have your classic meta-textual musings about video games as well as a legitimately gripping tale filled with many twists and turns, good use of symbolism, salient points to make about Trauma and its effect on one's memory, the Fear of Change versus the necessity of it, and Depression. It all comes together by the end in a subjectively satisfying manner and...

...

And...

...

...I have to stop myself.

I'm reducing this deeply personal experience to a mere "review" and that's not what I'm here to do.

I don't know what I'm here to do.

Frankly, there are themes in this game I am not equipped to discuss, such as its intensely felt (and horrifyingly topical) commentary about Diaspora, the shared trauma of cultural displacement, a people fading away from memory like stars in the sky. That kind of analysis would be too much for a simple "review." if this were to be one, I would praise the game for being the best possible version of itself, the best version of a Time Loop story. One that perfectly applies the narrative tropes of the genre to its gameplay, plot, all that jazz. I would also state that it didn't reinvent the wheel of "Indie Gaming" and I could feel inclined to make obligatory comparisons to That One Game because that's the unfair standard by which everything MUST abide! No, I shall not do that. I need to rethink my approach. I am going to take a small break. In the meantime, please enjoy these unrelated GIF files of Christopher Lloyd from Toonstruck that I have lying around on the floor.

I had dinner with the family. It was a small, daily reminder that I am loved unconditionally. That I deserve it. Something that is immensely easy to forget. The meal was tastier than usual.

...

Back to it.

This is the brutally simple truth of the matter: there is a lot to love about In Stars and Time, with its writing, design choices, characters, nuances, big feelings. It has the potential to be a massive crowd pleaser and it would be well-deserved. It's got explicitly gay lore, as well! In case I didn't make it abundantly clear, this game is 100% queer. Every aspect of it, from the characters and the world they inhabit to the culture and its history, is built from the ground up as a queer utopia. You might recall, all the way to the first paragraph of this long-winded, amorphous ramble, I mentioned something about Change with a capital C. That is because the very concept of Change has been deified, becoming the base of a whole religion: an extremely inclusive, open-minded, progressive community that celebrates life in all its multi-faceted forms. A significant portion of its foundation is the magical technique of "Body Craft" which allows the user to literally transform their physical appearance into their preferred shape, one that better reflects who they are. Children are given many names, both male and female, for the purpose of facilitating their own change, should it occur. Literal and figurative transience lies at the heart of this belief system, meaning that about half the population is trans/non-binary, and queerness is normalcy. As a side note, I want to live in this world. Change is viewed as positive, in other words. In light of that, the arrival of a hostile entity with the power to simply stop all of existence from ever progressing by freezing everyone in place might seem like an easy metaphor to read. I assure you, the game is eager for you to make that assumption.

As I mentioned earlier, this story tackles Depression and it doesn't pull its punches when it comes to portray the more "inconvenient" aspects of living with crippling self-esteem issues. That's when the game became a masterpiece to me. I resonated with Siffrin (He/They), the protagonist. That's you!

Their struggle to navigate the constant torment of the loop is paralleled with their increasing mental and emotional instability. Intrusive thoughts overpowering their head, saying he will never be loved, that he's toxic and manipulative. There's the all too familiar frustration of not being understood by others despite not having tried to explain how you really feel to them, trapped as you are in your own head. Big issues are equated to "small" issues. I relate with most of this. Through the Time Loop allegory, In Stars and Time captures the Kafkian Horror of existing as a neurodivergent person who gets in the way of their own happiness. It's isolating, drives a barrier between your loved ones, makes you lose touch with reality. Sometimes you have good days, sometimes you have bad days. Everything eventually blends together in a sickening routine until you either drown or you start swimming furiously.

Then the cycle repeats.

It's too much.

You cannot do it alone.

You are not alone.

Let them in.

Let yourself be loved.

That is, in essence, the reason why I think so highly of this title. I related with the story and characters. Yes, it all comes down to the most obvious thesis statement in the universe. Yes, I probably didn't need to write so much about it but, regardless, I'm glad I did. I poured my feelings towards an Object D'Art onto figurative paper as I was processing them, doing away with any pseudo-intellectual vernacular in order to get to the soul of the matter. I expressed my emotions and I feel better for having done so. Now, I can move on. All that is left to do is to recommend the game.

...

Go play In Stars and Time, I recommend it. It's good.

...

That's about it.

...

You're still here.

...

......

..............

Go away, stupid!

---

A/N:

Thank you for reading this rather personal piece. The article was extrapolated from a thread I wrote down on the subject. You can read that here. I also typed about the official prologue to the game, Start Again, which you can view here.

As a reminder, I have a YouTube channel.

In Stars and Time was developed by Adrienne Bazir. Follow them on Twitter, Tumblr and Itch.io.

Tell the people in your life how much they mean to you, and have a good day.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Yesss the lovely, heart wrenching angst, my beloved /j *clears throat while rubbing my goblin hands together* allow me

Grave’s Jealousy seeping into his adult space and him taking it out on Ghost. He knows Simon has nothing to do with what happened and he knows deep down that if the tables were turned, Roach would probably do the same thing to Ghost…

But he wants what Ghost has so badly. And if he tried any stunts with Roach or Price, they’d catch on and an uncomfortable conversation would have to be made. So graves decides being petty and passive aggressive to the innocent bystander is the next available option.

It’s off handed comments and minor pranks. Things to make Ghost irritated. Nothing that would actually compromise any missions they have. Just minor inconveniences. Purposefully throwing out Simon’s tea, being obnoxiously loud in front of Simon’s room when he knows Ghost is trying to sleep. Occupying the private showers longer than needed just before Ghost goes to shower.

All small things. What Graves doesn’t realise is that Ghost is a wind up toy who can only be wound up so much before he explodes. Ghost’s work life is stressful, life threatening and there are days where he wonders if he’ll even get back to Price, Kyle and Johnny.

The last thing he needs is someone being petty for absolutely no reason. (He has no idea why Graves is acting this way)

So when Graves makes another off handed comment during debrief about how he could’ve done something better, does Ghost crumble. Price recognises this and dismisses everyone but Ghost.

At Baba’s soft coaxing, Simon immediately regresses and weeps into Baba’s shoulder. He knows he could’ve done better. He knows he could’ve saved more lives. The guilt eats him alive.

Simon, still in his military gear is coaxed into the rocking chair. Price guides Simon’s head into his neck and lets his boy cry as he starts to rock

“That’s it, Bub..just let it out. Baba’s got you…” price coos and rubs Simon’s shoulder.

Meanwhile, through the slightly opened crack of the door, Phillip glares at the endearing sight. Making the ghost cry should’ve made him feel better But he just feels worse.

His heart aches so badly for the sight and he knows he’ll never have it because he’s a petty coward who can’t open himself up to such affections. His eyes tear up and he walks off with a huff, holding back tears as he goes to sulk back at his barracks.

Meanwhile, Roach is seeing Graves spy on price and Ghost with his pouty baby face and immediately puts 2 and 2 together.

He wants to be loved like that too but just can't bring himself to ask :(( or even show that he needs it like that

Graves begins ignoring his own regression, because he just can't let himself when he can't even deal with the love he sees the others getting while he's big. It would just fall apart when he was little. Of course it hurts and hindered his sleep, but he made himself stay big on purpose

He didn't deserve it like ghost did. He made Ghost upset, and he deserved to feel bad for it all over again

He can't help but be a dick. He's stressed, he's angry, he's upset. But he doesn't want to be bad, he doesn't want to be mean. If he could just ask for help, ask for what he needed then it would be okay.

[sakebytheriver]

Unpopular opinion time:

They should have only brought back Catherine Tate to Dr Who and left Tennant's doctor out of this

I'm sure the story is gonna be like he goes specifically back to her because of this weird repeat regeneration, but that's flimsy at best and easily could have been reworked to make it so that Ncuti Gatwa's doctor has to go to Donna for plot reasons instead, I think revisiting Donna's story is smart, there's a lot that can be done with the unfinished threads they left her with and she's a fan favorite so using her to introduce us to a new companion which turns out to be her daughter is honestly pretty clever and I really like that idea, but I know that the only reason they're doing it is because people really loved the dynamic of Tate and Tennant and are banking on the nostalgia factor along with Tennant's now incredibly famous name bringing in viewers rather than writing a good story to introduce us to the new doctor, Ncuti Gatwa, and his companion and their connection to the show that preceded them. Do Tate and Tennant have a wonderful amount of chemistry together that was definitely my absolute favorite dynamic of the show? Yeah one hundred percent. But if you're gonna try and tell me Ncuti Gatwa and Catherine Tate wouldn't also have an equally unique and electric kind of comedic chemistry together absolutely on par and cleverly purposefully similar to the dynamic of Donna and 10 that makes the veiwer feel a sense of weepy nostalgia without needing Tennant there for one single bit to make it all work then I'm sorry, you are not allowed to speak to me

And honestly, the return of Tennant and Tate has really only served to completely overtake the entire conversation surrounding Dr. Who and in turn the first female doctor, Jodie Whittaker, and the first black and queer doctor, Ncuti Gatwa, are both being overshadowed by two white faves from the less enlightened past of the show and the fandom in a way that just gives me flashbacks to the antiblackness that was the entire Martha Jones companion era, I feel like I'm being transported back in time to my youth watching everyone go gaga for Rose while pretending Martha either didn't exist or worse while I couldn't understand for the life of me what was so special about blondie when Martha was twice the character she was, but then again she was also given arcs and plotlines that were less than half as well written as Rose's so like the audience isn't the only one sharing some blame here

In conclusion I guess my point is that they should have left Tennant to Good Omens and only brought back Catherine Tate, because they didn't bring back Tom Baker when Sarah Jane made a guest appearance during Tennant's era and the only reason they're doing it now is for a cheap cashgrab twist that'll never live up to what might have been if the writers and producers actually decided to put in the actual work of writing a good launching off from Jodie into Ncuti and the return of Catherine Tate's Donna Noble and I shall weep with thoughts of what could have been for two actors who deserved better, Jodie Whittaker and Ncuti Gatwa deserved to have eras and debuts that went down in history, but as of now due to the decline in writing quality over the years the producers and writers have decided that instead of fixing that they will go for the cop out of nostalgia bait instead and the worst part? It's going to work.

[thousandbuns]

you know those super-relatable "OC lore that only exists in my head and I can't really share it because it'd require like 30 000 words of context first" memes?

yeah

that's me right now

shitting, weeping, puking, screaming and foaming at the mouth because I have dreamt up The Single Most Toxic Gay Disaster Relationship featuring commissioning body horror work from the walking definition of medical malpractice and sacrificing other people's beloved found family for it, forcibly binding the soul of your love until you can build up enough Evil Magic Energy to enact a ritual that will merge it with yours for the rest of eternity and trying to blow up a giant spaceship as a part of this plan, and there's also my beloved sopping wet meow-meow who's also a ten thousand-year-old evil wizard, badly mauled, hunched over and bleeding, yet with enough rage burning inside them to scream at the top of their lungs that their sibling (who is responsible for this whole situation and insists that their actions are justified by their "boundless love") is a "raging fucking hypocrite" just like their other brother, and their dad, and their dad's dad.

and I have like zero concise and understandable context for y'all, I'd have to make a whole corkboard-and-red-string exhibit to explain who the hell everyone is and how all the little details click together, and which parts are headcanon and which are a purposefully flawed in-universe reads of canon events, and at that point I may as well sit my ass down and write straight fucking prose instead of trying to dump it all in a Tumblr post that no one will read

[slimeywooper]

Sinking Despair

Chapter 3 - Difficult Conversations Part 1

CW: emotional manipulation

It's been a couple months since you talked with Nobori. You haven't been afforded an opportunity to see him again. Kudari had become unbearable just after your meeting with his brother, constantly attached at the hip to you, wanting to do everything for you, even cutting the food you were eating. For these past few weeks, he has agreed to escort you around the lab, so you can get some exercise. Nobori, however, was off-limits. During these walks, Kudari has you hold on to his arm, deciding where he wants you to go, and purposefully steering you away from Nobori's room. Lately, he has finally calmed down about guarding the door at night, returning to sleep next to you. The meeting you want to have with Nobori needs to happen within the next few days, as your belly has grown larger, the result being becoming fatigued from barely any activity. Pretty soon, you won't have the energy to leave the room, and Kudari will likely become even more protective.

You're returning from the bathroom when an idea hits. Kudari is currently doing something with his computer, attention fixed on the screen. He's been that way for about 20 minutes, not making much noise. Now would probably be the best time to try and leave to see Nobori again. You walk over and open his wardrobe, unclipping the name badge on your lab coat. Making a conscious decision not to mention his brother, you say, "I'm gonna head to the cafeteria and grab something to eat," as casually as possible, hoping to get to the door while he's distracted.

His head snaps up, exclaiming, "I'll use your phone to page Nobori. He can bring you whatever you need."

"No, I want to go myself. I haven't left the lab in a long while, I'm starting to go crazy." You take a step toward the door before he springs up and rushes to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

"B-but you can't leave! There are people who might hurt you! Or use you!" he argues, panic rising. "I will take you out for a walk and we can have Nobori get you what you want to eat."

Attempting to calm him down, you explain, "I really don't want to stay in the lab today. And I'm sure Nobori is tired of being an errand boy. I'll be fine, Kudari. I'm just walking to the Plasma headquarters cafeteria, not leaving the building. No one in here is going to mess with me. In fact, I'm willing to bet I'll be avoided."

Eyes filling with fear, he doesn't let up, "What if you fall? Or… or something else unexpected happens? I can't let you leave! What kind of mate would I be if I didn't take care of you?"

Turning your head to meet his gaze, you assure him, "You have been taking care of me. I'm doing fine, physically at least. No one is going to think you are doing a bad job by letting me get my own food. Now, please let me go. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can return." He's giving you a determined look, and you notice small amounts of venom pooling at the tips of his fangs. Thinking quickly, you scold him, "And don't you even think about biting me! We don't know the effect your venom may have on the babies. They've already been subjected to it early on in my pregnancy, and even though there isn't any evidence they have been negatively impacted by it, I don't want to leave it up to chance."

The arms holding you relent, retreating back to cradle himself. Kudari silently slinks to his web and sits, rocking back and forth. He now wears a devastated visage, and as you walk out the door, you hear him begin to weep. Ignoring how terrible you feel, you continue on your journey to the elevator. Throughout the lab, a few different researchers and assistants stop you along the way to ask how you are doing. It appears you really are the latest experiment, and most everyone in the laboratory is excited to see how you are progressing. In the reception area, Marcello looks surprised to see you, and you offer him a few pleasantries before getting on the elevator to Plasma headquarters. The ride up gets you that much closer to the cafeteria. After a short walk, you arrive at your destination, and begin to pick out everything that looks good. When you've finished making your selections, you place them on the counter and give your name to the grunt manning it so he can put the cost on your tab.

Kneading his fingers nervously, he comments, "Ah, so you're (Y/N)? Nobori usually gets your meals, right? He's mentioned you in passing. Don't worry about the charge. We've been told not to interfere with anything the science division is doing. I'll put a note in the system to have the cost sent to the financial department."

"Oh… right… thanks," you reply. You collect your things and leave the cafeteria, trying not to look at the grunt again. God only knows what Nobori told him. It probably wasn't anything detailed, but perhaps there were some vaguely threatening inferences behind his words. The elevator is reached again and you press the button to call it. When the doors open, you're greeted with an awful sight.

Colress steps out, making eye contact with you. "(Y/N), it's been a while. In fact, you should probably be going to the doctor for a check up soon." He pulls you to the side before you can slip past him and enter the elevator. "I'm surprised to see you out and about, though you appear to be doing well."

"Yes, I'm fine, all things considered. I was just getting something to eat," you state, raising the items in question.

"I see. Well, considering the circumstances, you'd do well to stay put. If you were to go missing, I would have no choice but to send Nobori to find you." Colress smiles and nods his head. The implication he's making on what would happen if you potentially tried to run is not lost on you. "In the event you are having any cravings, I'm sure he would gladly go and get anything you wanted so you wouldn't feel compelled to leave Kudari's room." His face shifts to one of disdain as he remarks, "Nobori's even refusing to work because he wants to stay here in case you need him."

You glare at him before responding, "I left the room because I'm going crazy in there. I only wanted to step out so I could get some fresh air, I'm heading back now." That's only half of your reason for leaving, but it's none of Colress' business, and you really don't want him to get involved in the volatile situation between the hybrids. Though finding out Nobori is taking a stand against Colress is welcome news, it doesn't ease your anger at him for what he did.

"Of course. In that case, you should be on your way. I'll be sure to make a follow-up appointment with the doctor. I've only been holding off because Kudari is so difficult to deal with, but it's getting to the point it can't be avoided. Have a pleasant day." He goes to continue walking, but you stop him.

"Wait…" you say, touching his shoulder.

Slowly turning to face you again, he flatly inquires, "What?"

It's a question that has been taunting you since you first awoke to this nightmare, but you held off on asking Kudari to avoid any offence to him. "You asked me after my initial doctor's visit if I had any questions. I wasn't awake for the ultrasound, so I was wondering… w-what do they look like? Are they hybrids like Kudari?"

It's a question that has been taunting you since you first awoke to this nightmare, but you held off on asking Kudari to avoid any offence to him. "You asked me after my initial doctor's visit if I had any questions. I wasn't awake for the ultrasound, so I was wondering… w-what do they look like? Are they hybrids like Kudari?"

He looks you up and down, before answering, "Let me shed some light on what I am able to. As you already know, Kudari is a clone of that dreadful Subway Boss, Emmet. The one with the hideous smile. That's where Kudari gets his from. Anyway" ��he shakes his head, getting back on topic— "technically, yes, these are his children, since he is the one that… copulated with you. But genetically, they are Emmet's. As was previously stated, designing Kudari to be able to produce offspring was all theoretical. I used Emmet's DNA not only for him, but his human gametes, as well. So, bearing that in mind, if you ever decide to stroll out of here with the babies someday, people might notice how familiar they look. We certainly wouldn't want to give our dear Subway Bosses heart attacks if they were to see them. Then again…" he holds a finger to his chin in thought, contemplating the probability of Ingo and Emmet keeling over from shock.

The last part of his commentary goes right over your head, the first part being what your mind focuses on, a weight lifted from your chest at the news. "But, does that also mean that they will have normal lifespans, unlike Nobori and Kudari?" you add.

His demeanor shifts, scowling at you as he replies, "Yes, that's correct. Barring any genetic abnormality Emmet may be afflicted with, they will not have the same issues as the hybrids because they aren't clones, they are akin to direct progeny."

A single nod is given in acknowledgement. "Thank you. I'll be heading back now." Colress walks off without saying another word, and you press the button for the elevator again. On the return trip, you're filled with confidence as you make your way back to the lowest floor. Not only will your children look like regular humans, they will also have normal lifespans. You hold back the tears of relief. This is the best outcome you could have hoped for. If the occasion ever presents itself, you can grab them and run, not worrying if they will be judged for their looks.

The elevator comes to a halt, releasing you to the third floor lab. Nobori's room is your next stop, where hopefully you will get more answers, though they likely won't be anything you want to hear. Walking to your destination, the door opens as you draw near.

[elderflowergin]

Hi Flower Gin! I would love to read that story but I am not much of a writer. (If anyone would like to give it a try...👀👀👀.

As for the expectations for this next season, very little to be honest. I won't lie and say that I am happy with GilChae's situation, it feels like regression? She did everything for her family and she's forcibly taken from them? It feels like such a visceral violation. Which is probably the tragedy but wow. I could weep. [I think another character could have been used in this particular story but we'll see.]

[On a slightly different note, I'll probably stay way from the internet's while this is airing. I can't stomach the GC hate and some people are uncomfy with GC/JH now that she's married, and I think that's fair. ]

What about you, Flower Gin? What are your expectations for this story? What do you hope to see happen with JH and GC as characters and everyone else? I keep thinking about ep1-8 and wonder how did we get here? It looks so dire. (Sorry for word rambling in your inbox).

Hello again Anon!

I hope someone sees this ask and starts writing the AU for us all. We need it!!

(break for spoilers)

I think we all anticipated plenty of misery down the line and so far it has been pretty miserable, hasn’t it? I don’t feel better about Jang-hyeon, even if this episode was aimed at redeeming him in some ways. I loved Gil-Chae. I’m very puzzled by the strange turn of events that has sent her as a fake runaway to Shenyang. She’s a noblewoman and wife of an official! Kidnapping her should be a high crime, but I suppose the story needs her to be in Shenyang somehow and the writers couldn’t figure out how to do it consensually whilst moving her close to Jang-hyeon.

I didn’t realise it was controversial that she got married. I feel like her impending marriage was made clear at the end of episode 10 when she returns home and welcomes the Captain to her house. But apparently not, going by the posts I am seeing in defence of Gil-chae’s decision. I’m not sure what else she was expected to do here? This was never meant to be a love match, and even if it was, I don’t think someone who loves Gil-chae would have purposefully lured her back with her ill father as bait. The potential infidelity angle doesn’t bother me much in this specific instance, but I get that it makes people uncomfortable. I suspect the kidnapping will prove to be the workaround. Whew. Let’s regroup for 12!

P.S.: To be honest I’m more involved in my AU which I’m writing on a lark for friends so I might not stay on top of episodes. But please always feel free to come and yell in my inbox!

[rottingpath]

" of course i didn't listen to you... you're a brainwashed idiot whose too dumb to see that you're just being used by the people that you so desperately protect. like a whore who isn't even getting paid. " he scoffs, words purposefully crass and hurtful just to dig a nail deep into her. he made sure to squeeze her neck when she raised a hand, tutting at her. " -- ah, ah, ah. remember. i'll let you live just so you can watch me destroy everyone inside this pathetic little mall. don't you put those.. "

he stared at her hands for a little bit, noticing the slight softness of her pads. were those ... like .... cat beans? huh. he blinked, and shook his head. okay, that was cute, but also, back to being a villain.

" hands on me. " he settled. re-focusing, shigaraki adjusted his grip just to make her squirm at the threat of dying. " -- you're lying to yourself if you say you don't care what hawks told me. aren't you the least bit curious what that hero traitor said? oh. smile for the camera. "

shigaraki tugged her in closer, practically squishing her against his side as he gave the most horrible smile at the camera that was counting down to snap a picture. he squeezed her tightly, ensuring she wouldn't wriggle or try and get away. she'd be able to smell the slight mustiness of his clothing, clearly uncleaned since kurogiri wasn't around to do it anymore. a few seconds later, the boothe flashed, and the picture was taken. he resumed his needling, but didn't shove her away. he was making sure to make her as unsettled as possible.

" you know, i like you ochako. " that was clearly a lie. he hated everyone. " you're smart and strong and toga likes you so i guess that's something. do you know how happy she'd be if you joined with us? she'd probably weep with joy. you'd be fulfilling her dreams. and i think you're smart enough to know this hero society isn't all that's cracked up to be. forget what was forcefed to you in UA. . . you've seen it yourself, haven't you? the corruption. "

Ochako didn't think he'd want to do anything other than to kill her though it was odd that he hadn't gone for the kill the last time they had met. But then again, trying to kill her would make panic break out and maybe he didn't want that? She watched him closely and noticed how his eyes moved back and forth. What was he looking for? She tried to follow his gaze but nothing plausible came to her mind. "Who are you looking for?" she hissed. Was he after Deku again?

His voice caught her attention before she was suddenly yanked and Ochako moved with the motion immediately so as to not have all his fingers touching her by accident. Where is he taking me? Wait... She noticed that he dragged her towards the photo booth before she was shoved in and she wheeled around. She needed to get away from him!

But unluckily, the space was cramped and the heroine saw him turn before she could properly lift her hand. "Huh?" She stared in confusion as the League of Villains member went to slam on various buttons in the photo booth. Did he actually want to take a picture?

But before she could properly turn away from him, he turned back to her and her brows furrowed at his words. Of course, she knew what words he meant but she'd deny that she had indeed thought back on them, even if it was just for the night after. "Seems like you haven't listened to my words then. I told you that I don't care about rankings anymore!" Well, not entirely. Rankings were still vital in helping Ochako find a good agency. "I don't care what Hawks has told you. I won't listen to your words at all!" she growled and lifted her hand but remembered that hid own hand was still on her neck.

[soft-for-them]

Havok and Torment - Alex Summers x plus size reader - Headcanons

Summary: The reader is a mutant and is taken in by Charles and Erik, she gets close to Alex.

Trigger Warning: Mention of bullying, bad home life and pain.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: This is a re-write of some old headcanons that I've deleted.

. With a backpack and a bin bag filled with everything you’d ever need when running away from home you had hoped to flee to California or Hawaii, not picked up by two men called Charles and Erik, two mutants just like you.

. You had ran away from home. Well to rephrase it, you had moved out from home because you were an adult… without anyone knowing. Technically if anyone ever cared about you then you’d be a missing person, though because you were an adult by then even if someone had filed a police report they wouldn’t care.

. The day you ran away you were like an angry child, the black bin bag like your very own bag on a stick, a stash of money in your pockets and some food for the road.

. Your reason for running away? Well there are too many to list but being a mutant was a near death wish around the parts you used to live, that paired with a verbally abusive family and the bullies from highschool still beating you up despite now being an adult with a job.

. (Ok maybe working at a fast food drive through isn’t the most classy but you need the cash and the experience on you CV.)

. Before the boiling point when you’d just been put in the care of your extended family, when you were just a fat mess of hormones and pimples like clockwork the bullying had begun. You were moved to the middle of nowhere America because of the bulling at your last school but it still followed you.

. The pushes and punches never seemed to hurt you, only the words did.

. No literally, you were the opposite of ‘sticks and stone may break my bones but words will never hurt me.’

. It started as people walking into your shoulder. Fine it happens. Then it became being purposefully tripped up. Ok, surely that was a one-time thing? But when word got around that you hardly got hurt, that you were like a punching bag well the bullies flocked to pick on you.

. You would come home from middle school with the faint feeling of where the punches where punched, footprints on you back and trousers torn at the knees but with no actual injuries, not cuts or bruises, not even a weeping knee.

. The bullies though you hid the injuries well and you so called family never took any notice of you at all. When you’d get home you’d just sleep, no one could wake you up, not even an earthquake. Every day was like a ground-hog day of pain and misery but no proof, apart from you tears, that any of this was happening.

. You had become antisocial and quiet by the time you were ready for high school you didn’t talk unless it was purely academic related and you just looked grey.

- And because of this you became the ‘disgrace’ of the family, the black sheep. Your Aunt would say deeming words like ���Why can’t you be like your cousins and try!’ even if you got straight A’s on every test. The bullies would scream over the crowded hallways things like ‘GOD DAME IT (Y/N)! Can’t you fucking talk like a normal person.’ making other students laugh and stare.

. Their words hurt so fucking much, they hurt so much that you did some things that you regret to this very day. Those hidden lines on your body will always be a reminder of that, though you’d never show anyone, well only one person but you hadn’t net him in your high school years.

. You had realised that you were a mutant when you were fourteen but it only became a rumour when you were a bit older.

. A girl you don’t care about to remember her name, the girl who had torment you ever since you could remember, had decided to make you her personal punching bag more than other people did.

. Gone of the days of being called a ‘fatty’ instead she’d beat you up so bad that you’d never be able to move afterwards. The pain was there for a minute or so, a painful reminder that you still felt something even just for a second, before dissipating to faint throbbing and achy joints.

. When the girl saw that her abuse did nothing physically to you she stopped. She just stopped like she’d never made your life a living hell.

. She stayed away from you like the plague.

. The rumour started to go around about you being a mutant. Others tried to harm you but only you could harm yourself. You acted innocent and oblivious, to you mutants weren’t real for if you’d ever let on that you were aware of them, aware that you were one, then you’d be taken away or maybe even something worse.

. The day you decided to leave your town was the best day of your life. You woke that day and realised that you were an adult and could do whatever you wanted to. You made your bed and rang up work declaring that you were quitting, you happily lied to you family saying you would be gone for an hour of two, you bags hidden in the hedges at the front so they didn’t see.

. With spare change and a boost to your mood you took the first bus you saw and road to the end of the line. You walked down highways and back roads, hitch hiked with total strangers, you were unafraid.

. For a year you visited roadside attractions like a tourist, stayed in dingy motels and blagged food from pit stops.

. One day whilst sticking your thumb out a van filled with hippies all looking like Joh Lennon and Yoko Ono stopped and let you in. They were heading for New York, they talked about how the seventies yet to come where going to be their decade of revolution.

. Two days after, parked on the side of an empty road, the van hot boxed and filled with weed smoke a guy singing off tune folk songs a bright yellow taxi pulled up beside to you.

. You were in the middle of nowhere, like tumble weed and farmers’ fields type of nowhere.

. Two men emerged from said taxi, the smarter looking of the two knocking loudly on the side door of the van, both of them introducing themselves as Charles and Erik.

. “Whoa, we are in our right to park here.” The John Lennon wannabe, well one of them, had said, a bong still in his hands.

“We’re not cops.” The taller one had said his voice a bit accented and deep, the turtle neck nothing like what the pigs would ever wear.

“That is very obvious Erik.” Charles had said, the faces now matched to the names they had given.

. They were mutants too.

. Erik pulled the metal stem from the bong in Lennon’s hands, a sly comment about smoking coming from his lips whilst Charles had raised his fingers to his head only to be met with only pain.

. This got the taxi driver, Darwin, out of the taxi. 

. “Your pain… I-You're so hurt.” His voice had croaked and his face had gone red as Erik and Darwin held him up.

. Thank fuck you were the only person not to have taken any magic mushrooms for if the van filled with non-mutants knew you were a mutant well who knows what would have happened.

. Somehow, you agreed to going to this ‘facility’ with the three mutants, not really because your mutation but because you had nothing to lose and you really wanted to shower in warm water. 

. “Um, can I-“ you had pointed to the bathroom to the side of your monotone but clean bedroom, waiting for the ok from Charles and Erik. They really were like two dads with the way they had hovered at the door of your temporary room.

. They allowed you to shower with no weird business but soon enough they had pulled you away into a room filled with other mutants closer to your age.

. Getting to the facility only to be bombarded by a load of energetic mutants had made you feel nervous and panicky. You had froze when too many of the new faces tried to introduced themselves with their loud booming voices which caught the eyes of one Alex Summers.

. The noise of the room had gotten louder and your body had begun to move towards the wall, your tried to blend into the background but you had realised that he was doing the exact same thing.

. He caught your eye and he smiled a small smile. It made you heart flutter with warmth.

. For the rest of the day you slept in oversized clothes and a bundle of blankets until an all too happy Raven dragged you out of bed to hang out with everyone.

. “Come on (y/n) it will be fun, you’ll be around your people.”

“I only came here because I’m homeless and fucked, I need sleep, maybe tomorrow I can ‘hang out’.”

- She dragging you to the living room anyway.

. You were drowning in an oversized hoodie with no foot-ware on with dent lines on your face from your deep sleep. The only seat left was either near Banshee or Alex and well Alex was quiet and looking at you with wide eyes so you had to sit next to Alex.

.Your eyes dropped from being so tired, your plush thigh touching his without you realising it.

. Alex understood you. He really wanted to be alone from everyone also but was made to sit with everyone else.

. Throughout the night he kept looking at you to see if you were ok and you were just staring into space.

. He thought you were cute, he felt like just wrapping you up in his arms in a big cuddle pile for comfort.

. “We should think of code names. We’re government agents now. We should have secret code names.” Raven had begun making you jerk out your trance, Alex snapping his eyes away from your soft face, “I want to be called Mystique.”

. Despite your eyes focused on Mystique as she talks and encourages everyone else to think up their code names you aren’t really paying attention. Really you just want to read a nice book or wrap yourself back up in a blanket and go back to sleep.

. Time ticked by, the feeling of Alex’s eyes gracing you every now and then as you try and concentrate. It wasn’t a creepy feeling, more of a feeling of someone looking out for you, a protector of sorts.

. Your eyes flicker towards Alex his blue eyes connected with yours.

. “You might want to cover your ears.” Sean said in the background as your cheeks turn warm.

. You hear nothing of Sean’s warning.

. Alex coved one of his ears whilst tapping your shoulder to alert you to the loudness about to come.

. He was too late.

. The high pitched scream shattered the table and your eardrums. Pain shot through your ears but despite their ringing you knew that they weren’t damaged, you felt no blood dripping nor were you deaf.

. “Shit, are you ok?” a soft touch on your arm had brought you back to your wits, your face gazed up to a concerned looking Alex who looked like he was about to cry and punch Sean at the same time.

. He was the only one who seemed to realise that you’d took the full force of the scream, that you hadn’t covered your ears. Only when he bent over to check if your ears weren’t bleeding was when people started to notice.

. “Yeah, my ears are just a bit throbby, no damage.” you said below a whisper.

. You looked around to concerned faces and said “I’m all good guys, carry on.”

. So the name giving continued with the showing of the different mutations, Alex more closer to you side, your thick thighs defiantly touching his now.

. “Alex, what is your gift? What can you do?” You perked up to Darwin’s question.

. Alex tried to get out of showing his mutation but you spoke up in curiosity and protection.

. “He doesn’t have to show anyone…” you said, “O-only if he wants too.”

. His smile was sweet, his mind boggled as he thought about whether he should show his mutation or not. Never the less Alex stood to show everyone.

. The red swirls from his body captivated you, it made you want to hold him just like he wanted to hold you, you had never seen such dangerous but beautiful spectacle before in your entire life.

. There was a connection between you two, it was the lonely ones sticking together, even when he was displaying his mutation he looked at you with hopeful eyes.

- At some point you felt tired and ultimately you fall asleep, you face leaning on the shoulder of Alex.

. You missed the shit show that went down for you were fast asleep, you missed the death and destruction because you were so tired and weak.

. You felt bad.

. Very bad. 

. Thoughts like ‘If I were awake I could have done something!’ raged in your brain, you blamed you mutation for making you sleep so quietly, you blamed the softness of the sofa and the warm feeling of Alex.

. Charles told you that being too tired might have been a side effect of you mutation, that there might be something bigger that what you have. He want to train with him but you felt dejected and sad to agree.

. You go quietly, all moved to Charles’ mansion.

. Alex walked close to you as you all arrive, his knuckles touched your hand, the connection grounding you.

. Charles grinned like a fucking idiot because he could hear Alex’s thoughts about you.

. They were VERY loud.

. He left everyone to get acquainted with the manor, to relaxed and calm down from the troubling things that had happened but all he could hear was snippets of Alex’s thoughts of you.

. Charles would be just doing his thing, playing chess with Erik or reading a book, and thoughts like ‘I wonder how (y/n) is doing’ or ‘I should go and talk to her.’ would travel to Charles’ mind.

. Charles would telepathically answer Alex’s mind questions, surprising him wherever he would hear Charles in his mind.

. One day you saw Alex storming out of the mansion into the green grass outside and call it instinct but you just had to follow him. You needed to see if he was ok, you needed to see him ok.

. “Alex!” you were dresses in a slouchy knitted jumper and corduroy jeans, only in socks and no shoes, hair down and a mess.

. He turned around to you his one angered face turned soft and sweet, his shoulders not covered by the sleeveless grey hoodie slumped. His outfit was covered in burn marks, his face dripping with sweat.

. Your appearance, all cosy and sleepy looking, made him low key melt.

. “I can’t do it! I burn every fucking thing.”

. He never raised his voice around you, he just sounded so sad.

. You grabbed his hand with both of yours, your voice quiet and composed said one thing.

. “I have an idea Summers.”

. That idea being you standing beside the mannequin whilst he tried to hit the middle one with his mutation.

. “I can’t (y/n)!”

. You whisper echoed around the metal room, you voice determined.

. “My mutation has something to do with healing, you can’t hurt me Alex, I know you can’t.”

“I-I…”

“Please trust me Alex.” 

. He hits the middle mannequin without a single injury. You jumped for joy whilst he let out a breath of relief.

. Ultimately you ran up to him, almost hugging him your hands shaking his shoulders with a bright smile on both of your faces.

. You not decided to show the small burn hole in sleeve of your jumper. 

. Eventually you had to show your mutation, when the time did come everyone was gathered in the garden like they were about to see something great.

. With Charles in front of you, the rest including Alex are stranded near the walls of the mansion, you stood ridged and slightly scared.

. “(Y/n) when I looked into your mind I felt so much pain but I also saw power. You mutation is brilliant. Nothing can harm you except yourself but you still feel paint.” Charles begun, “I believe that pain builds up inside you, it makes you tired and worn out because I believe all you power is building up to something.”

. Charles babbled on with his theory, a theory of stored power from you pain.

. You blanked and looked over to Alex who smiled at you.

. “I believe, no, I know that you can harness that pain, that power, that’s my hypothesis.” You looked back at Charles with wide eyes, “Realise that torment (y/n).”

. For hours you and Charles stood out there in the cold, frustrations running high. Everyone else had gone inside but Alex still stood near, sometimes reading most of the time watching you.

. “It’s not going to work. Your hypothesis is wrong Charles.”

. You went back inside, Alex a little behind, your feet took you to the living room where Raven and the rest sat.

. You sit close to Alex, who ever so slightly touched your hand, giving you some comfort.

. “I see that you failed (y/n).” Erik said with a smirk.

. At that moment you finally grabbed Alex’s hand, you face turned annoyed.

. “I see you couldn’t move the metal dish.” you said rather loudly.

. “Well at least I can use my mutation.” Erik barked back.

. You stood up quickly, angry and pissed, Alex’s hand still in yours.

. Your face twisted in to tears as Charles tried to stop Erik from speaking any more, an incredible force built up in your body like pressure shooting upwards every pain you ever known turned into a dull ache as a bright blue light, wispy like flouting dust, flowed out and around your body.

. It looked like dust particles in sunlight, soft and magical like, but the particles stopped mid-air as you anger boiled over.

. A strike of blue hit Erik hard, so hard that he tumbled backwards losing his breath.

. Alex grabbed you plush body in to a bone crushing hug, partly to stop you from storming over to Erik and inflicting more damaged and secondly to calm you down in his warmth.

. The magic like power absorbed back into your body. You felt sleepy and achy.

. “There it is. That torment. That power.” Erik bellowed as he touched his split lip, his grin big and menacing.

[dathen]

I am absolutely in love with the place poetry has in Malevolent. It’s so earnest and refuses to be embarrassed about it. Arthur regularly quotes snippets of his favorite poems, which prompts both fascination and curiosity from John. John barrages Arthur with questions about them often: what do they mean? why is he referencing it? to which Arthur is endlessly patient in how he explains what he thinks the author felt and what the poetry means to him. It’s a key element of John being drawn to and understanding what makes humans tick.

Poetry takes an all new level of meaning from episode 19 onwards. Arthur quotes Invictus (the “Captain of my soul” poem) no less than three times; the first of this is in bleary little snippets as he searches for water to give to the Cana, so so stubborn about not letting his suffering make him callous even if it means returning to that suffering. The third time hits me the hardest:

Yellow: Why did you share that?

Arthur: Because… it’s beautiful. It makes me feel strong. It makes me… feel. *Sighs* Doesn't it make you?

Yellow: I suppose.

He’s lost everything, he’s sick and starving and lonely, and still reaching out to the voice in his head that used to be his friend. And he does so with poetry, and fumblingly trying to capture what keeps him going despite all the misery.

Arthur’s poem in episode 20 is THE part that gives me feelings about this. He recites an original poem in full—it’s purposefully simple and amateur, but so unabashed in its earnestness. It feels like something a teenager would write to try to feel again and grapple with the magnitude and confusion of loss. It doesn’t for a second frame it as cringey or embarrassing, which I feel most stories are prone to do, and each time I’ve listened it makes me WEEP. And once again, it’s such a significant character moment and a sign of forgiveness from Arthur for how John used the last time he was vulnerable against him.

[dasher85]

Threat

featuring our Inexpressible duo

Kamisato Ayato x reader | y/n | you

A  short story

[ Rivals are equivalent to danger... I need to be cautious and plan ten steps ahead of them ]

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

The rain and storm accompanied by harsh wind brushed across the tree branches. You motionlessly sat there, under the almost ruined hut, staring into nothingness for a long while.

You finally glanced at the waving trees, droplets of rain falling down through the rotten roof, puddles surrounding the stones nearby the area and lastly the person resting on your lap.

His peaceful, steady breathing was the only piece of comfort you greatly appreciate at that moment. You slowly brushed away his hair to clear it away from his closed eyes.

"Ayato..." You softly whispered his name, barely keeping your emotions under control. The sight of him makes your heart ache.

"Don't cry, I'm alright..." He weakly replied with a hoarse voice. You were barely holding in your tears but the moment he starts to speak, everything breaks apart.

"I'm not... I'm not. crying..." You spoke in between little sobs. Droplets of tears fall down as you blink your eyes. You quickly try to wipe away the tears.

"Don't worry" He weakly smiled, eyes still closed even while some droplets of tears had reached his face.

You sighed devastatingly unable to agree with him.

"Why? Why'd you... Why..." you shook your head frustratingly unable to speak out your messy thoughts.

"It's alright y/n. I'm just feeling a little washed out" he whispered almost inaudibly.

"Stop talking" you carefully pulled him into an embrace as you weep uncontrollably. It hurts you to see him so frail... As if almost out of your reach even while you're securely holding him at this moment... You knew, the wound on your left hand would make you feel nothing compared to losing him.

How you wished the time would stop and keep him here, keep him all by yourself, keeping him safe and sound... eternally 

"Please... Please stay with me"

"Someday... Soon, we'll be together again"

He never once denied your requests no matter how small or hard to fulfill but for the first time... he couldn't make a promise.

Those words he whispered rings in your ear, loud and clear but you couldn't muster up anything to reply, you're scared, so scared if it would be the last words he'll ever say to you.

If that's the outcome... You can only keep his words and remember him in your memories.

....

"Ayato. Stop smiling as if it's a happy story" you try to snatch your book from his hand, suddenly interrupting him from reading, but he effortlessly holds it higher away from your reach.

"I'm one of your admirers... Why would I be disappointed?" He casually spoke but seemingly started to read the beginning of the paragraph for the second time yet again.

"I'm not talking about whether you like it or not but-" you try to voice out your genuine concerns regarding his contradicting reactions. Besides, you have already informed him that the new series would be involved with much heavy sadness instead of a happy or action theme.

"I'm aware. Now, would you just let me read this? After all, my phase in reading isn't superior to yours" he mischievously smiled before making himself comfortable on your lap. He was seated across you moments before but due to your slight interruption he was quick to change position.

You sighed, unable to argue back. It was as if you're dealing with a six year old child. At least, he won't bother you with questions now, giving you a chance to focus on writing the next chapters.

He holds the book upfront, completely covering his face. Only occasionally did his hand move to turn the pages. You didn't know if he's purposefully reading it in a slow phase or he's just fully immersed into the fabricated world you've written in order to make it realistic.

It was just the first few chapters for the upcoming series but he's been pestering you to change the characters names into his and your name ever since working with it.

Initially you thought it would be weird but it's his request... So, eventually you still agreed. It'll be changed back to the original character's name before the real publications but this version would be purely for his enjoyment. Let's just say it's a special edition for the Commissioner himself. You weren't sure either why he would prefer it that way?

It's a weekend today, so he's been idling at your residence since the afternoon while you struggle to write down your ideas. Just like him, you were busy with your own work too. But of course, he rarely gets a day off while you basically follow your own schedule.

"Ayato..."

"Hmm?"

You paused for a long while and eventually he lowered down the book to glance up at you.

You stared back at him as he shot you a questioning look.

"Nevermind..."

"What is it?"

You contemplated but eventually found words to describe it to him.

"Yesterday while I was back from buying groceries, there was an attack attempt... Twice exactly in one day, but luckily the guards were fast. I just thought-"

"Mmm... Actually there were three attempts but the last one, the guards were prepared to immediately took control of the situation"

You nodded, after knowing the details, not particularly surprised.

"Why was I even a target? How-"

"It's..." He paused, seemingly trying to figure out a better sentence to convey it to you.

"... possibly because of me. I have personally conducted an investigation over the past weeks but…” He sighed, seemingly disappointed with his own progress.

“These people doesn’t recognize each other. It’s odd, they should be in a same group or at least have a motif”

“I see... It’s alright, you’ll solve it eventually. I’ll help out if you need me to” You gently pat his head. He smiled back before nodding.

“I almost forgot… there’s another thing…” you continued to talk about it directly to him.

“Occasionally there’s someone who keeps sending me gifts since a month ago, sometimes even asking if I’d be interested in going out with him. He lives nearby here, perhaps even the guards think it’s just a neighbor's act of kindness but… I’m so annoyed, he won’t give up. I’m tired of talking...” You complained while he intently listened to your every word. 

“Mhmm. I was not informed of this… Shall we meet him now?” He casually suggested while closing the book with his left hand.

“Huh? Really? But what am I gonna say or what are you gonna do?”

Ayato stood up before carefully placing the book he was previously reading on your table.

“I just want to formally inform him that you’re mine” He smiled as if it was the simplest thing to do.

“Alright.” You agreed but you actually plan to just hide behind him later if things get out of hand. If he was that confident, why would you need to feel scared?

Eventually, just as he said, you both were already standing in front of the person’s residence.

‘It’ll be fine’ you thought before Ayato knocks the door.

Shortly after, the door opened revealing a pale man, he was just a few centimeters shorter than Ayato. The person’s residence has a strong smell of herbs and tea.

“Yes?” He questioned, seemingly not recognizing Ayato’s so called grand title. 

“Good afternoon, Sir. I believe you know of her?” Ayato formally greeted the man before gesturing a hand towards you who stood a step behind him.

“Ahh Miss Y/n.” He smiled while looking at you. “Yes, I do know her.”

Ayato casually took a step to the left just to block you from the other man’s view but a smile was visible on his lips as if he wasn’t feeling annoyed.

“Our wedding is in a few months, since you’re one of her neighbor, I’m personally inviting you to the wedding”

You just stood behind Ayato, barely surviving the second hand embarrassment. His method in dealing with this is just too direct.

“Wedding? Your wedding with Miss Y/n?”

Ayato nodded with the same smile.

The other man smiled as well before he casually took out a pouch from his pocket. In that short interval of seconds, he took a handful of the pouch contents and blew it out from his hand. Ayato was caught off guard by the unexpected action. The moment he closed his eyes reflectively against the small white particles of dust, some had already entered his lungs. 

“Y/n! Get away!” Ayato quickly instructed before he used his vision to form a Katana. He was already in a stance but suddenly his eyesight became blurry. Ayato could barely focus, he shook his head, a spinning sensation overthrown his head, as he feel his consciousness slowly fading.

Little did he know, you were already affected by the same particle of dust.

“Ayato?” You called out to him before completely losing consciousness. Ayato swiftly caught you.

“Y/n…” He called back before he too falls to the ground along with you still in his hold.

The man scoffed at Ayato before swiftly taking you, carrying you inside his residence.

You woke up in a room devoid of lights. After a while adjusting to your surroundings, a distinct crack from the walls leaks a ray of sunlight. You slowly stood up, and moved around the room, looking for an exit, or something you can use against whoever that has kept you locked inside this room. You can make out sounds from outside. The sound of waves and seagulls. Your eyes widen after realizing that you were not in just a room but inside a ship.

Although it was hopeless to twist the locked doorknob, you still gave a few attempts. Suddenly a light footsteps approached the door, seemingly noticing your small attempts at opening the door.

You quickly stumbled backwards in shock before quickly jumped back on the bed you previously woken up from. A key was inserted into the doorknob, before the door was opened you closed your eyes, acting still unconscious. Letting the enemy know about your awareness would’ve made things worse.

“Y/n why won’t you go out with me? Unlike him, I can spend more time with you” The man spoke as he held your right hand.

You quietly stayed still with a calm breathing, paying no attention to him. Although it dreads you… you still keep staying calm.

“I know you’re awake…”

Your heart jumped in surprise but you kept your cool.

“Shall we…” He suddenly started touching your lips.

Your thoughts screamed in anger, your heart fueled with rage, you slowly clench your left fist.

The moment he starts to lean in towards your face, you use all your rage into your fist before swinging it to his face. That one force got him stumbled back to the floor but in that same moment you stood up on the bed and jumped down, stepping right on his stomach. He instantly coughed uncontrollably, seemingly in pain. You couldn’t care less about the outcome, and swiftly kick the side of his chest. He was still conscious, but was in much pain.

If someone gave you a weapon, who knows what’ll you do with it… However it wasn’t long before the man somehow regained strength as he almost grabbed your leg. You kicked his hand before quickly escaping from the only door.

You ran the fastest you can but unfortunately, a few people were actually outside of the door. They looked at you with a fierce frown, you gulped but quickly searched for anything useful nearby. Luckily there was a wooden pole by the side of the door, you swiftly took it.

They approached you fast but you couldn’t think of anything else but fight them with all your might. It doesn’t matter if you die as long as you tried it was enough to give you the strength to go up against these men.

“I haven’t practiced this in a while.” you whispered to yourself. Although you said this, you knew your knowledge in combat isn’t that shallow. You’ve mastered at least six books of combat techniques since you were a kid.

Perhaps the only thing you lack is stamina and strength but speed is something you could still do. You swiftly swing the wooden pole as if it was a polearm and smack one of the man’s eyes. It was brutal but dying or living in fear was not an option. You only want to protect yourself and fight back. If you hesitate for even a second, they'll easily knock you down with one hit. 

After a few minutes of intense combat, you started to get tired, your strength slowly draining but there were still two more men to go up against. You sigh frustratingly before skillfully swinging the wooden pole once again. Unlike the other man, these two were quite skillful, they deliberately tried to avoid your every attack which only made things a lot more difficult.

The ship was closely anchored near the Inazuman coast. At least you know, they haven't sailed away, the chances of getting back to safety were quite high. If you were to jump down, perhaps it’ll take only a few minutes of swim before reaching the sand.

You were barely able to dodge the attacks as your focus gradually worsens over the second. Surely you need to end this sooner or never. 

Ayato has just regained consciousness right before his attendants returned from their short break. They weren't expecting to see him in such shambles as he stood before them. His white coat was stained with dirt and white powder, his hair barely presentable, a deep frown was visible on his face.

"Leave no stone unturned"

Although his appearance was questionable at the moment, his attendant didn't even dare to question him about the earlier details. Ayato was no doubt fuming with rage but his instructions were precisely calculated planning.

After all his attendant goes on with the hunt, he walks back to your residence. He took a glass of water before taking a seat by the study table.

He then used paper and pencil to draw a map of Inazuma, marked a circle on the places that were suitable and X for the places that were being checked by his attendant. He actually wasn't sure either, where to start or where to focus on looking for you which only rendered him powerless against this but still he has faith.

"Here." He quickly folds the piece of paper into his pocket before heading to the location he felt like going even without much evidence. At this point he was gambling but he knows, he needs to decide and try to get somewhere, instead of just standing still.

Meanwhile on your side, things were getting dire… how you wished, you were still in combat training, practicing each day without barely feeling tired over multiple hours of physical activities. It's been years since you've last trained and the result was fairly noticeable.

'Where are you when I actually need you…' your heart whispered, feeling a little disappointed. For even once, you just wished he was here. It’s ironic that most of the time you’d just prefer him to be busy at work when he actually has the time to spend with you. You rarely even ask him for anything such as requests or attention. These little things aren’t equivalent to loyalty and respect that you’ve received from him which is already enough for your heart. But perhaps under these threatening circumstances, even you do feel the need for him to be here.

You dodged your body to the left and yet the man’s fist still grazed your right cheekbones. You were lying if that minor skin contact doesn’t hurt… It really does. In that instant, you spin your body to return a kick directly to his torso. He stumbled backwards with a loud thud. The second person launched a flying kick, aiming for your head but you quickly ducked down. Their moves are getting predictable but your stamina is burning out too.

A person suddenly took hold of your left shoulder, with a sharp breath you turned around to quickly escape the hold. Your eyes widen upon seeing the person before slowly sighing a small smile.

He briefly flashed a smile back at you before swiftly taking over the last two enemies. You just stood there watching the two men fall to the ground but you weren’t sure how he managed to do it at such speed. He effortlessly slashed through the enemies blindingly fast. In fact, the moment both men fell to the ground, he was already standing before you.

“I’m sorry, I’m late… where are you hurt?” he managed to say after sheathing his sword stylishly.

“Can you take me to see a Doctor? My hand hurts” You casually showed him both of your hands covered with small cuts and minor injuries. You’ve held the rough surface of a wooden pole with a strong grip and even punched a person’s face with force but at least no bones were broken.

He carefully holds your hands before quietly nodding to your request. He searched your face, then at your hands but was still unable to utter a word. The little red scratch on your cheekbones personally hurts him in away he couldn’t even describe.

“Why… are you disappointed I’m still alive?” you jokingly asked him with a small smile.

His frown only deepened, seemingly becoming more upset than moments ago. Eventually he sighed, placed his coat over your shoulder before effortlessly carrying you with both arms.

You actually knew he was just feeling disappointed in himself for not being able to fully protect you against all of this… but even you know nothing is too perfect in this world and it’s alright. After all, he was still here with you.

“Look at your hair, it still has some of those white dusts” you lightly dust away his hair in an effort to clear it.

“Mmm” he barely spoke.

You smiled while looking at his side profile. His eyes suddenly trailed towards you, followed by a slight head turn. Without much thought, you encircled your arm around his neck before lightly kissed his left cheek but he was unresponsive.

“You know… I’m glad nothing happened to you.” you spoke, revealing your worried thoughts.

That man who has previously blown dusts at the both of you could’ve done an even evil deed. He could’ve bagged him into the ocean or worse instant killing… you can only imagine the terrible possibility. After all, you didn't want anything like in the story you wrote to happen. 

“I’m sorry y/n…”

“It’s alright Ayato. It was all unexpected”

“If only I was-”

“But you’re here with me right now… Why are you suddenly so upset like this?”

He sighed, “I only want you to stay with me but why… even the world is against this simple desire?”

Ayato still dreads about the nightmare he had about losing you before, it still occasionally haunts his thoughts. Now that almost similar things have happened before him, he’s barely recovering from it.

“Aren’t you always positive about the future?”

He just quietly carried you, but was still in thoughts. The air of disconsolateness surrounds him.

“I won’t die that easily. You know that…”. You focused on his side profile with a worried frown, “No need to blame yourself. It’ll make me feel at fault too.”

He instantly glanced at you, as if telling you not too feel that way.

“So… stop worrying already. Do you still think your emotions won’t affect me?” you slightly looked away, feeling a little embarrassed by your own words but these things were true.

“Right…” He briefly touched the side of his head against yours before nodding his head, finally smiling “let’s quickly get you to the doctor”.

You didn't know if he really was feeling better but at least he has got the momentum back. Sometimes, feelings are just that complicated to even put into spoken words. It’s unpredictable in a certain way and yet you find it troubling you if he wasn’t feeling any better.

"Besides… aren't you at least amazed that I'm not your average woman who only can write poems and cook dishes?"

He let out a laugh before looking at you again, "Of course… You've always been special to me, I've known about that ever since our earlier meetings"

"How do you know that?"

"I had to use a special breathing technique to deliberately conceal myself just to approach you. It wasn’t easy, you always noticed my footsteps even before I reached your place"

“You’re so persistent. Surely, you’re just challenging me… aren’t you?”

“I think, you were too”

You both suddenly started reminiscing about that particular moment in time. How things suddenly became like this? It's quite a journey. 

As you both arrived at the estate, two doctors were already waiting there with their equipment and medicines.

“Treat her wounds immediately... “ he spoke sternly to the doctors as if they were guilty of a crime.

“I’ll get back soon. I need to personally interrogate those criminals". Unlike how he spoke with the doctors, he only used a soft voice before gently kissing your knuckles.

"Sure…" You want to pull your hands away but he firmly holds it.

"Careful. That'll hurt the wounds"

"Alright. Fine… I get it." You sighed, knowing too well about what he's actually requesting from you even without him directly saying it. 

"I'll eagerly wait for your return and be careful… but don't forget to completely crush them"

There. The words of assurance with a little hint of affection. You’re not accustomed to saying these kind of things but at least that’ll make him feel happy. 

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with your words alone. It wasn't the typical 'don't go, I need you here' kind of thing but he knew, you still need him… and only him would be capable enough to fulfill such a request. But even if you didn't request such a thing, he'd still definitely gonna do just that.

Ayato has always been glad that he didn't need to sugarcoat anything when it comes to how ugly the world actually is… He can talk about anything with you because you didn't feel bothered with the problems and sometimes you would suggest effective or a crueler method against the opponent. You didn’t even mind about his plans or however he would want to do it either, you just genuinely supported him.

He has long acknowledged it… if you were to be his opponent, he'll surely be fairly defeated. That hidden intelligence and experience you hold is unquestionably reliable. Even so, he only wants you to live the way you want, a simple and stress free life.

"Hmm… is that all?" He mischievously smiled, seemingly seeking more from you. 

You sighed with a smile, before lightly pats his head. Whatever gestures he’d get, he’ll gladly take it with a smile.

"Y/n…" he suddenly returned to his usual calm self.

"Hmm?"

"In the future, will you write about us? A special edition for me."

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

A/N: 

A little info about the so called enemies...

The main villain was the one who threw the white dust. He can use a certain type of powder to control other people’s mind with his command. Hence the many random attacks by different people was because of him. He’s a doctor, specialized in various medicinal plants. He has been interested with reader because she once asked about medical related things with him. Who knows, maybe it was because of him too that Ayato just so suddenly lost his memories previously.

Why he didn’t tie up reader’s hands? It’s because he believes reader is just that weak and yes, he actually didn't want her to get any injury too.

While writing, reader’s story: Stay with me - Mendum | Krys Talk Remix

[distantpagesandpapercuts]

And his mother... died? Jesus Christ was this guy tragic or what?

Seems that when you're some sort of prophet, you had to suffer as much as possible. Kira can't help but wonder if martyrdom was really what he was purposefully working himself towards or if that was just some sort of tragic accident.

It showed in his face that he was hiding. Sarah haunting his every thought and move. Kira can't help but keep as quiet and still as possible. Her own features had become quite sullen as she gently nurses the smoke in between her fingers. It's getting quite low now.

The type of loss he spoke of, Kira had never really experienced it before. The only thing she's ever lost was her parents and they weren't even dead. Well, them, and her sense of self. Which she was still on the hunt for, searching among the half dead and the weeping corpses of those she tried to ease the suffering of. But, neither were terribly important to her anymore. She never truly loved those things. It was conversations like these that reminded her why she kept to her work. Why though she understood it was a feeling grand and necessary, she never wanted to feel it herself. Because having something... meant you could lose it.

"Everyone thinks that their way is the right way I suppose."

Kira seems somewhat perturbed by his mention of crying. "Me too," She whispers lowly. Truthfully for her though, it'd been days before she was comfortable enough to put her own feet on the ground. Her companion at the time had to carry her almost constantly. Who knew the Enclave could be so accomodating?

"Some of those 'Greenskins' are my patients Aaron. And most I've met and treated with have never eaten a human baby. A harmful stereotype," She can't help but sigh. "But yes, perhaps one of these days, you'll prove that there is one correct way to live." Her tone is slightly prickly, as if still not sold on the idea.

"Everyone spouts the same bullshit. It's only a matter of proving it with your actions. Which, time will tell if you've really figured it out 'Aaron from D.C.' and... not everyone will agree with you. Regardless if your utopia is as good as you try to make it sound. What do you do with those who do not uphold your standards? You understand I must ask."

To say that this had never been his intention would not be entirely correct.

He had come to Goodneighbor in an attempt to win over the goodwill of the anarchic people of the settlement. Such populations responded to deeds, not words, and Aaron knew that they would recoil instinctively from a vertibird full of scribes offering aid. Such a thing would have been seen as an obvious Trojan horse. So he had come alone, only mentioning he worked for the Brotherhood of Steel when asked.

It hadn’t exactly played out like he’d intended. He didn’t socialize much, save for the nights he went to enjoy the music at the Third Rail, often patching up those involved in bar fights well into the night. More often than not, he wound up exchanging words with his counterpart across the hall. And for once, she didn’t seem ready to cut and run at the first sign of danger. He figured he could at least enjoy that.

He smiled softly at her comment on his daughters name, unable to help himself. “After my mother. She died, giving birth to me.”

He laughed, quite contrary to the serious nature of his words, taking another small drag and rolling the cigarette between his fingers. “God, I drove Sarah fucking insane, how much I worried over her. Tore through every medical text we had, ran through every ‘what if’ there was. She told me that she wasn’t going to live through a hundred Raider gangs, a super mutant army, and the Enclave, just to die in childbirth of all things, that would just be fucking insulting-“

He bit his bottom lip, as he felt his throat start to tighten and his eyes start to sting. He could see it clear as day, her narrowed eyes and pursed lips, one hand resting on top of her swollen belly as the other gripped his hand, pointedly keeping him from flipping to the next page over his notes. Kodiak and Glade fighting back snickers, Dusk quipping for the millionth time that there wasn’t a thing in the world a man could do to convince her to get pregnant, Sarah threatening to have all three of them shot.

He clears his throat, tilts his head toward the ceiling, blink until the stinging subsides. He raises his hand rather shakily, taking a drag that inhales half the remainder of his cigarette in one pull.

“Kind of how it was in the vault. The only ones who knew the right way to do things, how the kids had to be brought up, the way the world ought to be. The first time I saw the sun, I think I cried for twenty minutes.”

Another chuckle, another drag.

“That isn’t to say that I don’t think I’m correct in doing the exact same thing. Maybe it’ll change things. Populations booming in D.C, with the Raiders and greenskins gone, the roads patrolled, medicine and water flowing. Turns out people feel a lot safer having babies with a couple ten thousand suits of power armor between them and what wants to eat said babies.”

[angelatsumu]

cockwarming hc's [nsfw]

hello friends! mac is back with another hc <3 the boys and their cockwarming styles <3

boys: bokuto, nishinoya, mattsun <3

requests are open!

warnings: puppy!reader in some, dom vibes in all, overstimulation in Mattsun's, dacryphilia in Mattsun's, Mattsun's just super mean, fem!reader

nsfw under the cut!

b. koutaro

bokuto loves to cockwarm, he is the cockwarming king. he just absolutely adores the intimacy and closeness of cockwarming

bokuto loves the little stutters when he shifts unintentionally, the way you squirm a little from the closeness. he especially loves when you're clinging to him while he's working, and you seem so small in his lap

for bokuto, having his sweet girl so close to him, so warm and tight around him, he feels comforted.

everyone thinks bokuto's too impatient for this sort of thing, but if it means he gets to be this close to his puppy, he would do it til the end of time.

"hey, pretty girl," he beams as your little footsteps make their way into the room. he grins sweetly at you, brows furrowing slightly to mimick your own frown. you huff, circling his desk to stand beside him, towering only slightly over your gentle giant. he looks at you knowingly, patting his lap. before you can have a seat he stops you, shuffling his hand under his sweatpants for a few moments before revealing his semi-hard cock. you blush at him, and he just grins mischeviously. you sigh, sliding down your dampening panties to leave your cunny bare under the shirt you stole from him. bokuto sticks his pointer and index fingers into his mouth, holding eye contact with you as he dampens his fingers for you. you rub your thighs together as the aching in your heat continued to grow with every second. your eyes flickered to his prominent member, pink tip oozing precum just from the thought of being inside your velvety walls. a sigh left your lips the moment his damp fingers met your puffy folds, sliding between them to redistribute your wetness. bokuto groaned softly at the feeling of your warmth, resolving on taking his time. you huffed at him once more, rocking your hips to graze your clit along his fingers, and he looks up at your scoldingly. "aw come on, pretty girl. behave." he isn't harsh when he says them, but they encourage you not to push him any further. his hand retracts from your cunny, and he immediately pulls you into his lap, chest to chest. you sink onto his heat slowly, his hands gripping your waist to deter you from bouncing on instinct. the groan he lets out, soft and whiny, makes your cunny throb, and he lets out a soft whimper. your face buries in his neck as he continues watching his volleyball tapes, blush slowly rising to his cheeks. "if you stay really still, daddy might reward you, hm?" he has a smirk in his voice, and you nod eagerly.

n. yu

okay so i am team small body nice dick so i firmly believe that noya is packin' a little heat

anyway, nishinoya gives me switch energy with a dom lean because he's small and wants to feel bigger

that being said, baby probably uses cockwarming as a way to make his pretty baby beg for him

he is not dicking you down unless you are on the verge of losing your marbles, and that's just that

it would probably be an ego thing, like you had made him feel small or something while you were out and he was just pretending it was fine until you're ready to get to action and he's just sitting there vibin'

"aw puppy, don't be so shy, come sit," he's patting his lap, dick in hand as he keeps his eyes fixed on the television. he tries to look disinterested, and that nearly makes you drop to your knees for him. you sigh, standing over him with a slight blush on your cheeks. he glances up at you, hand moving to swipe over his swollen tip before nodding toward his cock once more. you let out a whine, straddling his waist with your chest facing him, sinking onto his dick. he bites his lip at the sensation, almost forgetting about the end goal. nishinoya grins mischievously at you before sitting back against the sofa and directing his attention away from you again. the lack of stimulation puts you on edge as your walls stretch to get accustomed to his girth. yu's eyes purposefully catch yours before trailing down your body to where his cock disappears inside you, and despite his cock twitching, he shrugs in disinterest. you whimper at him, pawing at his chest as he directs his attention to the television again, pretending to be captivated by the replay of a random volleyball game. he ignores your whimpers, but with every slight movement, his hands get tighter on your waist. you work yourself up to grind against him, desperately seeking friction for your throbbing clit, and he allows two rolls of your hips before reaching between you and smacking your needy clit. "stop it, pup," he's stern despite the choked out whimpers he lets slip. your brows furrow in annoyance as you get comfortable in his lap, allowing your chest to press against his and your head to rest on his shoulder. "take your punishment like the good girl you are, and I'll be extra nice to your pretty cunny, okay?" you nod into his neck, sighing in relief. even after being a brat, you were still his precious girl.

m. issei

cockwarming is a punishment with issei, and there is nothing you can do to change his mind

this man is very into overstimulating his bratty girl, and what better way than to make her sit completely still on his cock and abuse her clit?

genuinely couldn't care less if you cry (well he would prefer it honestly)

half the battle is sinking onto his monster cock. the other half is getting through the night without crying

you relent on your tears to disobey him, but it eventually comes out.

would cum inside you by your second orgasm, but that doesn't stop him from torturing you endlessly

usually says things like "stop holding it, just give in" [i am writing a separate headcannon on forced orgasms with the boys→ yikes]

your chest heaved as you sat in issei's lap, legs spread with his cock deeply seated in your tight, throbbing cunt. your cheeks were warm with embarrassment and overstim, eyes closing lazily as he retracted his fingers from your clit. your walls squeezed him like a vice, eliciting swears from under his breath. he peppered kisses along your neck and jawline, pulling your back against his chest as he peered at you through the mirror in front of you. "i'm not done, silly girl," he smirked at you, right hand disappearing behind him. you squeezed your eyes tight, fighting tears from your third consecutive orgasm by his fingers on your clit alone. you whimpered, pawing at his left hand on your hip, aching to be set free. "oh puppy~" your eyes flutter open to see a shit-eating grin on issei's face, and you immediately let out a whimper. your eyes pan to his right hand, seeing your wretched vibrator he'd confiscated from you weeks ago. immediately your cunny tightened around him, and he let out a cheeky grunt. "awh, my little one is so-" he presses the vibe against your clit, starting on a lower speed. "close-" he kicks up the vibe's speed, "to breaking~". you let out an involuntary moan, soft and desperate as your back arches against his chest. you feel your high coming, the coil within you moments from snapping. still you relent, squeezing your eyes shut to fight the tears he so painfully needed. issei grunts in your ear as your cunny milks him, convulsing walls pushing him over the edge. he paints your walls with his cum, letting out a deep huff as he thrusts involuntary, earning another desperate whimper from you. "s'too much, daddy~" you whined, gripping his arm as he pressed the vibe deeper into your heat. "i know, baby, but you know what I want," his words were slick as they went straight to your heat, nearly propelling you past the point of no return. his left hand wrapped around your throat, as his lips met the shell of your ear, breath fanning over your skin. "you're so pretty when you cry, puppy," he groaned in your ear as he astutely caught the single tear you let slip accidentally. losing all resolve as your orgasm washed over you, you convulsed in his grasp, tears flowing softly as he pressed the vibe further into your swollen nub, erupting quiet sobs from you as your hands took purchase on his working arm, trying desperately to pull him away. "one more," he whimpered, your weeping pussy driving him closer to overstimulation.