#like looking at my earlier ones they seem so bare in comparison

[minkiverse]

JUNG WOOYOUNG FIC RECS

Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Park Seonghwa - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Choi San - Song Mingi - Choi Jongho

Happy Valentine's to Ateez's biggest loverboy, Jung Wooyoung!!! My love for this guy knows no bounds, and he deserves all the love in the world!!!! Please make sure to visit these authors blogs and leave lots of love to them!!

DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!

Key:

✨ - My Favs

🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)

⛈️ - Angst

💗 - Fluff

🍑 - Humor

SERIES

Cache - @songmingisthighs ⛈️🍑 Chaebol!Wooyoung ✧ SMAU

Be ready to hate ateez and become a txt stan! it would be funny if i left it like that but truly the angst in this author's social media au's 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 readers be warned you will not catch a break adgffgdfhdfhg

Right Here Part 2 - @0097linersb 🔥💗🍑 Friends to Lovers AU

I'm obsessed with the banter in this fic, it flows so well and i literally had to put my phone down because i would start laughing adfsdgsfgfgdfg but goddammit is this wooyoung charming as hell 😩😩 mc is so strong for holding out so long 👏👏

Written in the Stars - @ennysbookstore 💗 Office!AU ✧ Ongoing

*BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL* ID DIE FOR WOOYOUNG 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 it may only have one chapter BUT I DONT CARE I LOVE HIM SO MUHUHUHCUCUHHH 😭😭 he is just so sweet n kind 🥹🥹🥹

vivrant thing - @hwaslayer ✨🔥⛈️💗 Bestfriend's Brother AU

i have a soft spot for this series, because the mc hasnt been pining over wooyoung forever which i think stands out for this au 👏👏 like they just fall together like a cute lil puzzle piece 🥹🥹 and the sibling banter is extremely realistic adfsdgdfdgfg

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES

One on One - @beginningofwonderland 🔥 Fighter!AU

Untitled - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Hybrid!AU

Untitled - @multiwreckedmess 🔥Roomates!AU

Drive you crazy - @sxcret-garden 🔥

first snow - @cheollipop 🔥💗

Study Games - @muntitled 🔥💗 Idol!AU

Marks - @last-words-ofashootingstar ✨🔥💗

I love brat!woo just as much as the next person, BUT soft domestic woo is my FAAAAAAAAAVVVVV!!!! like he is just so full of love that him in a relationship would be DEVASTATING 🥺🥺 also its more subby!wooyo so it feels like this was made for me adfssgdff

Sweet Dreams - @yuyusboyfriend 🔥 Friends to Lovers AU

realistic sex with wooyoung - @byuntrash101 🔥

Freaks on a Friday - @thisthatpinkvenom 🔥 College!AU

Untitled - @bandgie 🔥

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥 Hybrid!AU

5:40am - @xuchiya 🔥

late night cravings - @cheollipop 🔥

21:23pm - @adoringsan 💗 Tattoo Artist!Wooyoung

bf texts w/ wooyoung - @beenbaanbuun 🍑

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid!AU

"i'm just bein' curious." - @teeskz 🔥

mirror mirror - @seonghwaddict 🔥⛈️💗

Untitled - @secretsecretbunny 🍑 Friends to Lovers AU

Strawberry Mocha - @pirateprincessblog ✨🔥⛈️ Barista!Camboy!Wooyoung

aaaaaaaaaaaah this fic 😭😭😭 if you like a side of pain with your smut you will LOVE THIS! ESPECIALLY IF YOU LOVE YUNHO😭😭 but god was this fic fun to read, just incredibly written dialogue, smut, characterizations, just everything was really well done👏👏

enemies w/ wooyoung - @beenbaanbuun 🔥⛈️

shampoo w/ wooyoung - @beenbaanbuun 💗

Whatcha Gonna Do About It? - @songmingisthighs 🔥

i like you, i do! - @sungbeam 💗 College!AU

Lock your windows - @mingtinysworld 🔥

Untitled - @baby-boy-chan 🔥

Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥

Untitled - @bunnliix 🔥

Birthday Surprise - @pocketjoong 💗

Mug w/ Jung Wooyoung - @beenbaanbuun ⛈️💗

after the game - @pantherxrogers ✨🔥 Baseball Player!Wooyoung

i will never, not for one single second, get over wooyoung in a baseball uniform like it changed something inside me 😩😩 and this smut is hot (i don't even fuck with daddy kink like that but goddamn 😵‍💫😵‍💫) but it ends super cute and someone needs to give woo some kids STAT

milkshake - @byuntrash101 🔥 Office!AU

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

marked - @igbylicious 🔥💗 Werewolf!AU

home run! - @vampzity 💗 Baseball Player!Wooyoung

Imagining Wooyoung as a girl dad - @redzie02 💗 Dad!Wooyoung

[15:41] - @songmingisthighs ⛈️💗

If Without You - @sorryimananti-romantic ⛈️💗 Friend to Lovers AU

Jeju Thoughts - @hee0soo 💗

Star 1117 - @sorryimananti-romantic ⛈️💗 Space Apocalypse!AU

Untitled - @gojosnympho 🔥🍑

how to tame a brat tamer - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Good Lil Boy - @sorryimananti-romantic ✨🔥⛈️💗 Royalty!AU

of course my fav bside would be one of my fav fics 😩😩 what really sells me on woo fics is banter I JUST LOVE IT!! i mentioned this in my reblog but this was a fic i read early into getting into ateez and it just hits even harder reading it now 😭😭 and with these two its just meant to be i love them dearly 🥹🥹

random bf!wooyoung texts - @sativateez 🍑 SMAU

sleepover - @kitten4sannie 🔥

Pull of Passion - @crimsonbubble 🔥

friens to fwb to lovers with wooyoung - @lxvemaze 🍑 SMAU

drive (me crazy) - @cheollipop 🔥

blood pact - @kitten4sannie 🔥⛈️ Vampire!Wooyoung

I Still Hate You - @starskq 🔥⛈️ Enemies to Lovers

Almost Home - @shadowkoo 🔥

Untitled - @intheemptymirror 🔥

Challenge Accepted - @mikrokosmoslove 🔥 Friends to Lovers AU

Just Trust Me - @wwooyology 🔥⛈️💗 Fox Hybrid!Wooyoung

Night Drives - @tinybeetiny 🔥

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

Xmas Dinner Goes Wrong - @hwallazia 🔥

random bf!ateez texts // wooyoung - @nightbeforethend 🍑 SMAU

very bad things - @frenchkisstheabyss 🔥 Mafia!Wooyung ✧ Stripper!Reader

Needy texts - @sugarbaybeetexts 🔥🍑 SMAU

[dadsbongos]

my type?

4.3 K words

summary - Yuuji Itadori is a total knockout boyfriend - the only hitch? You’re nothing like his usual type of woman, and it’s making you unsure.

warnings - 18+!, femreader with jugs and vagene, p in v sex, unrealistic car sex, specifically stated that reader is non-tall with big tits, dumbification for both parties, squirting, non-curse AU where sukuna and yuuji are brother-roommates, unprotected sex

Itadori, Yuuji was an amazing boyfriend - something straight out of a top-selling shoujo manga.

Faithful and doting and affectionate. He handed over his hoodies the moment you mentioned an unpleasant breeze, he proudly held your hand in public, and he boasted about the very act of dating you to anyone with ears. But even those displays felt backhanded, the deeper you dug into your own mind. You had no real reason to complain about the situation.

And you especially had no reason when the cause behind your complaints would be so shallow.

You had an ass in the same way that everybody else did, but nothing comparable to the pin-up poster Yuuji tore down when you two started dating. Or his celebrity fascination, Jennifer Lawrence (which also mysteriously stopped being mentioned when you two started dating).

Rather, your body was much more endowed in ways that made Nobara tease as you passed lingerie stores with hot pink lighting and black walls and heavy busts plastered in the windows. She’d snag you by the sleeve and point, just to watch how you scoff and look away.

Yuuji pointedly ignores those stores. He ignores everything in relation to them.

You’d picked this shirt just for tonight. It dips low into your cleavage, just tight enough to still push up the tender meat of your breasts. Not to mention the color - deep crimson, Yuuji’s favorite. Well, at least the closest you’ll ever get to a favorite color with his indecisive nature.

Yuuji sits across from you at the scratched table. When his eyes aren’t scavenging the conveyor belt for small, shiny, colored plates serving anything that may catch his eye, they’re on your face. And only your face.

Normally something you’d absolutely cheer over - if this were a first date, but the fact is that this is one of many dates. And after so many dates that you can’t count anymore, you’re starting to want Yuuji’s eyes to drift.

You want him to look and you want to watch him sweat and go red. You’re starting to need it.

The need only grows more apparent mere days later.

Yuuji keeps his hands stubbornly on your hips, barely making an imprint from outside your clothes. But you choose not to make a fuss since he’s otherwise fully engrossed with keeping his lips pasted to yours. Your hands are sweaty and hot on Yuuji’s cheeks, you just know they are, but he doesn’t seem to mind when he lets you hold him close and grind on him.

Yet his palms are stiff against you. They don’t feel warm or cold or clammy or moist. They just… are. He chokes back every groan and huff and you almost feel embarrassed to be letting out hitches and breathy moans so freely in comparison.

Puffing your chest out, you can feel your breasts pillowing against Yuuji and you’re hoping to tempt him to move his hands up. Under your shirt and bra with bare skin on bare skin. The idea makes you mewl, dragging your hips harder against his and further pushing out your tits for him to grope.

And suddenly, his stiff hands are picking you up off his lap, sliding you beside him on your couch. Yuuji grins, standing and swiping his hands down the legs of his sweatpants before planting a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry, gotta pee.”

“Oversharing!” you call after his retreating form.

When Yuuji returns, he sits down and rewinds the movie you two had put on earlier. He frowns and murmurs about how much the both of you missed. When you don’t turn back to the TV immediately, Yuuji smiles again and kisses your cheek.

Your gut twists unpleasantly.

And that need festers into utter desperation by just the next afternoon.

“Hey, Yuuji,” you come up from behind your boyfriend, arms dangling over the back of his couch and framing his shoulders. You place your chin on his head, staring at the intense cooking competition he’s watching, “So, I know I just got here… but! I’ve got a small, teensy errand to run.”

“Mhm?” he tilts his head back to meet your eyes, “Want me to go with you?”

His offer has you nodding, trying to smother down the bright simper he threatens to drag out of you, “Yeah, if you’re not busy.”

Sucking in air noisily through his teeth, Yuuji gestures out to the show he lazes in front of, “I dunno, babe, I am watching TV.”

“Very funny,” you back away from his couch, already heading to the door to tug your shoes on, “Just saying, you don’t have to come with if you don’t want to,” Yuuji always wants to come with, you like that about him, “Just getting some new bras.”

Your current ones are fine, but maybe a stuffy changing room is that nudge he needs.

“Oh,” your boyfriend pauses, eyes widening, “Uh. You might want to take Kugisaki for that, she’d know more than me,” he can’t even look at you, “I’m not really the kinda person you’d want around for that.”

You almost ask what he means by that, but the rejection has fried your brain to a gray, crunchy crisp. The kind of fry that looks like it could flake apart with a harsh jab. Again, that terrible, awful knotting in your stomach returns, but you carry on. Because if you claimed to no longer need this errand ran, then he might know what your scheme was - and that was far worse than whatever this hell was.

So you nod slowly and meekly call out that you love him before exiting the door. He says he loves you more.

You really wish you asked what he meant.

Finally, desperation comes to a head when you meet Yuuji’s friend - Todo, Aoi.

Todo, Aoi, who stares at you - eyes narrow as he judges each wrinkle in your clothes and jitter of your muscles - then turns to Yuuji, and asks point-blank, “Did you lie about your type, then, brother?”

Yuuji rips the hand in his pocket out and cuts it across his neck in a slicing motion, mouthing a couple of rude ‘shut up’s. You lean into Yuuji’s side, squeezing the hand he lays in yours tighter. It isn’t sweaty. And it isn’t very warm, either.

Aoi doesn’t seem very upset at the idea, “I’m happy you’re happy,” you look down at your shoes when he glances back over at you, “I was excited when I thought we had the same type.”

No, you weren’t very tall. And no, your butt wasn’t exceptionally big. You fell on the more mediocre sides of those categories, the thing you excelled in (what you thought most guys were thrilled over) was having a large bust.

“Dude!” Yuuji hits Aoi in the shoulder. Hard, “Shut up!”

He squeezes your hand so tight you think it might bruise.

“Sorry, brother,” Aoi, you were warned, was extremely unusual - little to no boundaries and almost inept at social interactions outside of fighting. He does seem sympathetic enough, turning to you, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

It’s all so sickening. How you wish Yuuji would hurry up and show interest in shallow things. How you place personal esteem on this whole fiasco. How right Aoi is. How badly you’re letting everything affect you.

The ringing in your ears, for example. The way you no longer think you can stomach whatever Aoi was cooking tonight. The shortness of your breath.

You try to push it down. Tonight is supposed to be fun.

Yuuji shoves his friend, much more lightheartedly than his previous blow, and goes to kiss your forehead - but hesitates. His smile is uneven, “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he squeezes your hand, “I love you,” then, apologetically, he smooths his thumb over the sore spots where he clenched your hand, “I love you so much.”

And you know that. You know it like you know your favorite movie.

Tonight was supposed to be fun.

He loves you, you know that - what you don’t know, is if he wants you. Doesn’t he get sweaty palms like you? Doesn’t he feel his intestines tie into bunches of little knots like you? Doesn’t he get all hot in the face like you? Doesn’t he want you like you want him?

It’s humiliating to imagine that he doesn’t, and the mere idea makes you so nauseous you think you might hurl at this very moment.

Maybe your boyfriend just doesn’t find you as attractive as you want him to.

Maybe you should give up this repetitive scheme.

The car is quiet, unbearably so. Your knees are angled away from Yuuji defiantly, legs pushed to the far side of your seat so it’d be a hassle for him to reach out and hold your thigh. You used to think it meant something when he did that, but now it seems as though he’s doing it out of duty. Like holding the door for someone behind you. Or offering your seat on the bus to elderly passengers. Simple acts of simple kindness.

The most basic peacekeeping, if anything.

Yuuji peeks at you without turning away from the road, hands tightening around the steering wheel, “Are you upset?”

You could be snippy. You could even opt to not respond.

But you do neither, “Yeah.”

He sighs through his nose, “Seriously, don’t listen to Todo. He doesn’t know anything.”

Now, you’re a little snippy. To point out that Aoi’s being stupid isn’t uncalled for, but to claim he doesn’t know exactly what stupid shit he’s saying is.

“He has a point.”

“Huh?” Yuuji turns his head fully to look at you, something he only does because the quiet backroad home is empty, “What’re you talking about?”

Only flickering, crooked, rusty street lamps are witness to your impending breakdown. Your boyfriend returns his stare to the road. Crickets sing outside and the wind flattens over long grass that shines under moonlight.

“Yuuji,” sinking into your seat, you ignore his eyes, “You can’t seriously say you have no idea,” he’s quiet, lips pressed thinly, “Since we met, practically everybody has known your type. I knew you had a type! It was a shock to our friends when we got together! And now that we are…”

Pulling off into the grassy plain lining your way home, Yuuji slips the key from the ignition and unclicks his seatbelt to really examine you. His eyes scramble over you, every part the sensitive, concerned boyfriend you know and treasure. He pouts, but it’s in earnest; hurt simply because you’re hurt.

“And now that we are?”

“Why don’t you look at me?”

“I look at you!” he rubs the back of his neck, now quirking a brow at you, “I look at you all the time.”

“No,” you whine like a petulant child, hands coming up to cover your face, “It’s different!”

Aoi’s words just won’t stop creeping up your spine. Yuuji setting you aside on the couch. Yuuji insisting that you bring Nobara to a lingerie store instead of him. He was lying to someone, right? Was it to Aoi or you?

But everybody had seen that poster, and everybody could hear him declare his preferences.

“It’s way different,” you’re so humiliated you’re nauseous, your voice wobbles.

Yuuji tenderly takes your wrists, dragging down your hands. His smile is squiggly, brows high to his forehead, “Talk to me, pretty girl. You want me to look at you?” you nod, “So tell me what you mean by that.”

You almost hate how soft his voice is. It makes it so hard to be upset.

“I’m not your type,” your eyes trail the way Yuuji’s fingers dance around yours, “And every time I try to… you know, get you to think of me as something other than just cute or pretty - you turn me down. I feel like you don’t find me attractive.”

“Oh, like sexually?”

“Mhmm,” you nod glumly. When he’s quiet for just a couple of seconds too long, you ask, “Did you know what I was trying to do?”

“Kind of,” Yuuji’s cheeks are growing red, eyes now abandoning your entwined hands to stare out the windshield, “I do find you attractive - that’s a little bit of the problem.”

“What?”

He sucks in a breath sharply, engulfing your hands completely with his and squeezing (much more mindfully this time), “I’m crazy about you,” he can tell you don’t believe him, “It scares me a little,” he pulls his hands away and cradles his own over his lap, “I’m worried that if I give in, I’ll scare you off… like I’m too eager or something.”

“Yuuji!” you adjust in your seat, moving sideways and finally letting your knees face your boyfriend again, “You wouldn’t scare me off by being eager about my body! That’s a good thing, right? When we’re both into each other, that’s good!”

“No, I mean,” he’s gone rouge all the way up to his ears now, a fire bright in his chest, “I want you so bad it makes me feel like all my skin’s burning. My hands get all gross and sweaty so I have to wipe them on my pants, and- and I can’t think straight,” he’s still not looking at you, but the way he’s pressing his arms down on his crotch tells you he wants to, “Even now, I think I’m going crazy just imagining you…”

You sit up on your knees, leaning over the center console just to watch your boy squirm at the invasion of space, “Imagining me?” he nods shakily, “Imagining me how?”

He whines, turning his head and pressing his scorching face into your neck, “You know how.”

“Come on, pretty boy,” you kneel over the console entirely, squeezing behind the wheel to settle on Yuuji’s lap - slapping away his hands from the growing tent in his baggy pants, “Entertain me, please?”

“Imagining you under me, on me, between my legs,” his hands fly to your hips, palms slipping up under your shirt, and, God, his palms are sweaty, “Any way you’ll have me,” you cup his cheeks and press messy kisses to his lips. Yuuji’s hands roam further up your shirt, fingertips teasing under the cups of your bra, “Any way I can see your tits.”

“I thought you were more into ass,” your bravado falls under his admission, suddenly bashful.

Yuuji closes his eyes, swallowing hard while pushing his hands under your bra, he can feel his heartbeat all the way at the back of his throat. His rough palms cupping the soft, fleshy fat on your chest, “As if that matters,” his brows knit, hips subconsciously jerking up into yours, “I’m a horny guy: my hot girlfriend has big boobs, and I’m obsessed with her big boobs.”

“Just ‘cuz you’re horny?” you tease, grinding down on the bump of his hard cock. His loose pants let him spring up under your skirt, knocking into your panty-clad cunt.

“Nah,” his eyes flutter open, sweaty palms moving around your back and clumsily unhooking your troublesome bra. It takes him three tries, “I like every part of you all the time…” the tip of his tongue parts his lips in hard concentration, “Your whole body makes me feel like I’m full of bugs.”

“‘Full of bugs?!’” you snort, lifting your arms so Yuuji can yank off your shirt and bra in one ungraceful motion.

“In a good way,” he promises, eyes locked on your heaving chest. You can hear the thick breaths he struggles through, “‘m so nervous and horny at the same time, it feels like bugs in my stomach.”

“What’re you nervous for?”

“‘Cuz I wanna make you cum, but I’m worried I’ll cream my pants before we even get to it,” he finally looks into your eyes, he smiles at you with flaming cheeks and palms at your breasts, “It was so hard making sure I kept it together… Been jerkin’ off every night thinking of you - ask Sukuna, he’ll tell you. It’s been embarrassing.”

“Augh, Yuuji!”

“It’s true!”

It makes your palms hot and sweaty, the image of him so desperate. All for you.

“Hm,” you croon, grinding against your boyfriend’s cock, back arching to press your tits closer to his face, “Yuuji...”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Yuuji sucks one of your nipples between his lips and laves it with his tongue. He bucks up against your wetting panties. Pulling away from your nipple with a soft pop, Yuuji stares up at you with another earnest, flustered pout, “Can you take it out for me?”

As if you could forget what he’s talking about, he humps you again.

“Please, take it out,” he cranes his neck to run his warm, wet tongue over your other, unattended nipple.

“Aw,” you didn’t think seeing your big, energetic boyfriend act so pathetic would set you on fire the way it does. One of your hands stretches down between you and Yuuji, wrangling down his pants with him lifting his hips to help, “Do you want me to play with your cock?”

He hums against your breast, nodding eagerly, “Yuh- yeah- ! Please?”

Your fingers wrap around the warm softness of Yuuji’s erection, thumb playfully nudging his mushroom tip’s slit. He throws his head back, ricocheting against the car seat headrest with a throaty groan.

Giggling, you lean in to kiss the sensitive spot just under Yuuji’s jaw, hand still working up Yuuji’s weeping cock, “Having a good time, honey?”

“Uh-huh,” he unwinds his arms around you to grasp your hips once again, fingers bruising at your sides, “Feels so good - so, so good…”

“Who’s making you feel good, Yuuji?”

“You!” his right thigh twitches under you, “You, you - ‘s always you!”

“Always me?”

His chuckle breaks off into a slack-jawed moan, “Said I jerk off to you every night, didn’t I?” he reaches for your wrist, “Wait, wait!”

“Were you…?” so soon?

“I told you!” now he’s the one whining like a petulant brat, “I don’t wanna cum before you, but you just make it so hard.”

So soon.

Your thighs squish around Yuuji’s, hips grinding on nothing - desperate in search of friction.

“You like that?” he sounds breathless, staring at you as you watch his bobbing cock. All red at the head and straining against your hand, “You’re so mean, babe.”

“I like it a lot,” you sit up, lips finding Yuuji’s drool-slicked ones, “I like knowing I have that effect on you.”

“Since I first saw you, I think,” he admits, hands skimming under your skirt now, “Can I… ?”

You nod, holding tightly to Yuuji’s shoulders while you lean on one leg. You could, theoretically, drag your panties down your lifted leg by yourself - but Yuuji stubbornly joins your hand all the way down to your ankle.

Before trying to slip inside you, Yuuji cups your hot sex. His chest tightens, middle finger shakily tracing along your soaked cunt. Tongue lolling back out of his mouth, Yuuji tucks your nipple back into his mouth when he inserts his finger in your hole. Trying to keep his mind as busy as possible so he can stop thinking about how badly he needs to bury himself inside you.

“Yuuji,” your breathing is ragged, already lowering yourself before he even pulls his finger out of you, “I’m so past ready.”

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles against the swell of your tit, teasing his teeth against the full flesh, “I dunno if I’ll be able to get in…” he chuckles to himself, lightheaded when he taps the head of his cock against your clit, “Might slip right out, huh?”

“Stop teasing,” you cradle Yuuji’s head to your chest, arms thrown around his neck, “You’re the mean one.”

“I know, I know,” he lowers in his seat, pressing himself finally, finally, finally inside your pussy. Your tits press even closer to his face when you gasp at the stretch, “I’ve been ignoring my poor pretty girl this whole time,” he says it so mournfully, so heartfelt, “So selfish, just thinking of my pride - I didn’t even wonder how my girl felt.”

“Ahh, Yuuji,” you moan, piercing your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he pushes down on your hips, lowering you on his stiff cock until your thighs are flush with his soft pants. They’re a little wet. You don’t care much, and you don’t think Yuuji does either right now. He screws up into you, one arm tight around your waist to pull you down into his thrusts and the other hand finding your slippery clit, “I’m so sorry, angel, can you forgive me?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” his fingers work quick circles on your nerves as he fucks you and you’re barely able to scramble together the words (let alone carry those words out in a sensible form), “Yes - ah! - yes, Yuuji!”

There’s something in the way he twists his hips this time because his cock beats into a particular spot that sends white sparks through your veins. You snap back, head hanging and forcing your bouncing tits directly in Yuuji’s face. Before you can even begin to beg, your big, energetic (and maybe a little pathetic) boyfriend is already nodding to himself.

“Right there, angel?” his fingers leave your clit to press down on where his cock batters your insides, “Is that it? Want me right here?”

“Please!” you squeal, thighs quivering and lungs fresh out of air.

“Uh-huh,” he keeps nodding, head too empty to realize he doesn’t need to anymore, “Uh-huh, anything for you… fuckin’ anything…”

When your lower half burns out, Yuuji keeps you upright - fully fucking up into you at that same spot he pushes down on your tummy. The need to cum burns every nerve in your body - it burns and burns and burns until it changes.

Something fuller and more familiar - in a more daily-life kind of way.

“Ah, Yuuji,” your hands perch on his shoulders, body bouncing with the weight of Yuuji’s hips slinging into yours, “I think- ! It feels like- !”

“Talk to me, angel,” dumbly, he looks up at you, almost snickering, “‘Entertain me.’”

“Feels like ‘m gonna pee,” you try warning him, you really do.

But something behind his eyes just shines brighter, grin widening and he actually laughs, “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Fuck yeah,” he stares, wide-eyed, at where you’re creaming on his cock, “You gonna squirt on me, baby?” his foolish nodding quickens with his hips, “Squirt all over me, angel, I want it - want it so bad. Soak my car, oh,” his pretty mouth circles into an ‘O’ just at the thought, “Please, please soak my fucking car!”

Your head jerks back, nails digging into Yuuji’s shoulders, throat snapping raw as you cry out braindead mixtures of your boyfriend’s name and pleas for more and harder and his cum.

He moves the hand on your tummy to swish your clit and spread your mess as far as he can, mouth popping open almost instinctively just to catch stray droplets of your cum in his mouth. One day (tomorrow) he might regret (will definitely regret) intentionally making you spray cum all over his front, and even back, seats, but right now he couldn’t possibly imagine not doing it.

“‘m gonna cum,” he grits his teeth, moans choked back in his throat, “‘m gonna cum - where?” before he can ask again, you find the strength to swivel your hips down on him, “Inside?”

“Inside!” you sob, chest tight and eyes watering at the overstimulation of Yuuji still swirling a thumb on your clit, “Cum inside, Yuuji!”

“Fu- ck,” he squeezes the word out of his chest, seating you fully on his lap when his cock throbs. He juts his chin out towards you when he starts cumming, “Kiss me?”

And you waste no time throwing yourself forward to press chaste, sweet kisses on Yuuji’s drooling lips. He hums and whimpers into your mouth, greedily drinking in the taste of your lips on his. As if he’d been starved of it his entire life.

Yuuji keeps you against him, the both of you slowly coming back down to Earth.

His sopping pants are beginning to cool underneath you.

“Ugh,” you groan at the feeling, “I think we made a mistake.”

“Yeah…” Yuuji sighs, “Oh well. Can’t unfuck in the car now.”

You’re kind of dreading pulling off Yuuji’s soft cock - if you hadn’t done enough to ruin Yuuji’s pants before, then that most certainly will.

Yuuji sighs again, heartier, hands coddling your hips and tenderly rubbing circles into your bone. His eyes fall to your breasts and remain there, “I really am sorry, angel. I- I never, ever wanted you to feel like I didn’t want you.”

Because he does. Good, God, he always does.

Every time he sees you, his hands get all sweaty and his cheeks are hot and his stomach twists into jumbles of knots.

“It hurt,” you admit, “but it’s fine now,” you giggle at the idea of him apologizing over trying to be respectful, “It isn’t like you were being a dick, you know?”

“Yeah, but! Ugh!” he clenches a hand over his heart dramatically, frowning, “I hurt my girlfriend’s feelings. My sweet girl :( “

“You’re cute,” you kiss one of Yuuji’s fiery cheeks, “Okay, help me off.”

“Oh, yeah, huh,” he stretches over your shoulder to wring your panties back up your leg, “It’ll be unpleasant, but I think you need to wear these back to your apartment.”

“I’ll live,” you pick at the elastic to Yuuji’s pants and snap them back against his sweaty thigh, “Can’t be worse than this, pee pants.”

“Hey, it’s not pee,” he pouts once again tonight, “And be nice.”

You shake your head, leaning down to press your lips against Yuuji’s once again. Soaking in the taste like you’d been starved of it your entire life, “Never.”

[carnalcrows]

MEOW - PARK MIN-SU

pairing: min-su x top male reader

synopsis: min-su reminds you of a cat- so you decide to put your theory to the test.

content warnings: 18+, bottom min-su, spit used as lube, full nelson, semi-public sex, mentions of a threesome

word count: 1.1k

The oppressive atmosphere of the living quarters was suffocating, with the grim reality of the games pressing down on everyone. Yet, in the dim, flickering light, your gaze kept wandering to Minsu.

He sat curled up on his bunk, arms wrapped tightly around his knees, his eyes darting nervously at every sudden noise. He flinched when someone raised their voice, shrinking into himself like he wanted to disappear.

A scaredy cat, you thought. And the more you watched him, the more the comparison fit. His skittish demeanor, the way he seemed to seek small, hidden spaces, and even the soft, plaintive looks he gave when he thought no one was watching.

The idea stuck with you, an unexpected distraction from the horrors of the games.

Lights out came, and as the dormitory descended into uneasy silence punctuated by muffled whispers, you slipped off your bunk. Moving carefully to avoid the patrolling guards, you made your way to the dingy bathroom where Minsu had retreated earlier.

The flickering bulb overhead cast a pale glow across the cracked tiles. You found him near the sinks, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, head ducked as if he were trying to make himself smaller.

“Minsu,” you called softly.

He jumped, almost slipping on the damp floor. “What—what are you doing here?” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Relax,” you said, raising your hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to check on you. You seem... tense.”

He frowned, his expression somewhere between confusion and suspicion. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” you said, stepping closer, “you remind me of something.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“A cat.”

His reaction was immediate—his face flushed red, and he stammered, “A c-cat? Are you serious? Why would you—”

You grinned, leaning casually against the sink next to him. “Yeah. A scaredy cat, to be exact.”

Minsu’s mouth opened and closed like he was trying to come up with a retort but couldn’t find one. His flustered expression was too good to resist.

“See?” you teased, stepping closer, watching his ears go pink. “You even look like one when you’re embarrassed.”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, looking everywhere except at you.

“Sure you don’t,” you said, tilting your head. “But I think there’s one way to prove my theory.”

Before he could ask, you leaned in, your lips brushing his in a fleeting, deliberate motion. Minsu froze, his wide eyes meeting yours as his breath hitched.

For a moment, he stayed like that—still, hesitant. But then something shifted. His hands gripped the front of your shirt tightly, and he pressed back, his lips warm and insistent against yours.

What started as cautious quickly turned messy. His lips moved clumsily against yours, a mix of eagerness and inexperience, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. You tilted his chin slightly, deepening it, and he let out a muffled sound of surprise that sent a shiver down your spine.

The kiss grew hungrier, his breathing ragged as he pulled you closer, fingers clutching at your shirt like he couldn’t bear the idea of letting go. Your hands found his waist, steadying him as he leaned into you, his back brushing against the cold, tiled wall.

Minsu let out a soft, breathy whine as you nipped at his bottom lip, and you couldn’t resist teasing him. “You sound like—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, but his flushed face and half-lidded eyes betrayed him.

You pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth, trailing down to his jaw, and that’s when you heard it—a soft, low vibration.

You froze for a moment, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “Are you... purring?”

Minsu blinked at you, his face turning impossibly red. “No! I—I’m not!”

But the sound was undeniable, a steady hum coming from his chest.

“Oh my god,” you said, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “You’re actually purring.”

His hands flew to his face, muffling a groan of embarrassment. “You’re the worst,” he mumbled, the vibration still faintly audible.

“And you’re adorable,” you countered, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring the way he melted against you.

Your hands slowly went to the hem of his sweatpants, tugging on the strap. He yelped at the friction, wide eyes looking up at you.

“Do you want to do this? I can stop if you give me the word,” you stated, to which he said nothing for a moment, before he brought his lips to yours once more. 

Taking that as a sign to continue, you pulled down his sweatpants and boxers with one firm tug, revealing his aching cock.

You flicked the tip, making the other man let out a small squeal.

Cute.

He steadied himself by placing his hands on your shoulders, as you lifted him up onto the sink. Your hand travelled past his length to his hole, that was twitching around nothing. 

Two of your fingers went towards his face, prodding at his lips. “Suck.”

Minsu complied, meekly letting your digits into his mouth, swirling them around with his tongue. The sight alone made you hard. You wondered how his mouth would feel around your–

Soon, you removed your fingers and placed them at his hole, slowly sliding one finger in. Minsu gasped at the intrusion, his hands gripping onto your shoulders much tighter than before.

You slid another digit into his hole, then another– three fingers were gently pumping in and out of his hole. Your other hand was covering his mouth. As much as you wanted to hear his pretty sounds, you didn’t want to risk a guard barging in.

Once you felt that he was fully prepped, you removed your own sweatpants and boxers, before removing your fingers from his entrance and replacing them with your hard cock.

“This might hurt just a little bit,” you whispered in his ear, before slowly sliding the head in. Minsu gasped, the sudden intrusion doing wonders to his brain. He had never felt this full.

You on the other hand, let out a low groan. ‘He must be a virgin,’ you thought. You had never fucked anyone this…tight.

You gently bottomed out into him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear to calm him down. You lifted him up from the sink, and held him in a full nelson, before starting to thrust into him. 

The new angle was making your cock hit his prostate with every thrust. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he let out a loud moan. Your other hand hand gone to his waist to hold him upright.

You fucked into him like a wild animal, savouring his every sound. Logical reasoning had flown out the window a long time ago, you were going to die anyway.

“Fuck–I’m cumming, please–,”Minsu rasped out, to which you only sped up your thrusts.

“So good f’me baby, that’s it–”

The bathroom door opened.

“Minsu my boy! Better vote O tomorrow– What the fuck.”

“...”

“...Can I join?”

“No.”

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[suguslve]

‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧— DO I LOOK LIKE HER? part ii

synopsis: in which you, the new human transfer in Devildom realize bit by bit that you are only seen as a replacement for Lilith.

part i. part iii.

♰ pairings. obey me brothers x fem! Reader

♰ genre. angst

♰ word count. 2.2k

♰ a/n. haha...hey...i know its been so long since i posted part 1 but you can't blame me! i've been swamped with school and lost the motivation to write, so this is my apology pls accept it </3 enjoy reading and don't forget to lmk your thoughts! (p.s. im so sorry that lucifer's part was so short ehe)

Over time, you began to notice the small things, the subtle gestures that hinted at something you couldn’t quite grasp. The brothers were kind to you, undeniably so. They treated you with warmth and affection, and you had grown close to each of them, bonding in ways that made you feel at home in the Devildom. But there was something... slightly off about it all, something you couldn’t shake.

You had formed a close relationship with Mammon, finding it easier to bond and connect with him in comparison to his other brothers. It wasn't just that he was loud or impulsive, or that he often dragged you into crazy schemes—there was something in his eyes when he looked at you, something softer, more genuine. With him, you felt less like a replacement and more like a person—your person, but boy were you mistaken.

One random evening, Mammon had barged into your room, grinning like he always did, but in his hand was a bouquet of flowers. They were lilies. The kind with soft white petals and delicate purple hues that seemed to shimmer in the light. 

“Here ya go. I just! found them on my way back home…” He handed them over to you, a soft blush painting his features. “They’re special….I guess.” 

You gave him a soft smile before standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Mammon. They're lovely."

He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little awkward. “Well, uh... Lilith used to love these, thought you’d like ‘em too.”

At that, your smile faltered, and your gaze lingered on the flowers. Lilith, huh? You question if the gift was really meant for you or if they were meant for her. You shook your head slightly and met his eyes again, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Thanks. But, um... I’m really tired, so if you don’t mind, could you leave?"

He looked taken aback but nodded quickly. "Oh, yeah, of course. Rest well, Y/N." You closed the door softly and immediately walked to the trash bin, you grabbed the flowers and tossed them inside. You hated lilies.

But the lilies were just the beginning.

Lucifer followed soon after.

He knocked on your bedroom door one evening, holding a small, ornate music box, intricate carvings polished to perfection. “This is for you.” he stated before opening it, a beautiful melody filling not only the room but the whole house as well. You stood there, in awe, yet something about it made your chest tighten.

“This belonged to Lilith,” he said, his voice soft. “She was enamored with it, bringing it everywhere we went and playing with it. I thought you might like it as much as she did.”

“Thank you.” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as your hand shook before taking the box. Lucifer nodded, his gaze lingering on the music box for a moment longer. He then bid you goodnight, walking back towards his room, you noticed the faintest trace of a sigh escape him, as though the act of handing over that music box had taken something from him. As soon as he left, you placed it on a high shelf, far out of sight.

Leviathan’s room was dim—the only source of light coming from his monitor. It was another one of your late night anime watching sessions and you had both stayed up all night binge-watching a newly released anime. You sat beside him, wrapped in a blanket he had tossed your way earlier, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but you were just too invested to stop.

“Okay, okay, this is finally the last episode.” Levi said, barely containing his excitement. “This is gonna be so good.” You chuckled at his enthusiasm, adjusting your position on the couch. “Alright then, hit play already!”

As the opening credits rolled, Levi shot you a glance before grinning. “You know… the main character kinda reminds me of you.” You raised a brow. “Oh? How so?”

Levi gestured toward the screen. “Just look at them! Their whole vibe—the way they act, the way they talk, even some of their features!—it’s just so you.” Curious, you turned your attention fully to the character in question. They had a quiet strength to them, a soft but determined presence. And yet, as the scene unfolded, your stomach twisted.

Because the character didn’t remind you of yourself. They reminded you of her.

The resemblance to Lilith was undeniable—the same gentle eyes, the same way they carried themselves, the way they spoke, even the way they looked all felt eerily familiar. Your heart sank as you realized what Levi was seeing.

He wasn’t seeing you.

You swallowed, forcing a small laugh. “You think so?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, completely unaware of the weight behind his words. “Yeah! It’s uncanny. Maybe that’s why I felt comfortable around you so quickly—it’s like I already knew you.”

Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. So that was it. Even here, in a world separate from reality, you were still standing in someone else’s shadow.

Next came Satan. 

It was a quiet afternoon, and you had wandered far from the House of Lamentation, seeking peace and quiet. Seated on a bench, you immersed yourself in a random book from the library, enjoying the peace.

A soft ‘meow’ pulled you from your reading. Glancing up, you spotted a small black kitten approaching, its green eyes warm and curious. Setting your book aside, you cooed at the tiny creature, extending a hand to beckon it closer.

You picked it up softly, making contact with its soft fur. The cat looked at you curiously before meowing once more. Your heart softened at it, and you placed it on your lap, petting it slowly. The cat’s eyes became more and more droopy, and soon after it fell asleep.

Smiling, you reached for your D.D.D. to capture the moment—only to pause at the sound of a quiet chuckle behind you.

Turning quickly, you found Satan watching you, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“You’re good with cats.” Satan remarked, stepping closer before seating himself beside you. His voice was smooth, but there was something softer in it than usual—something almost fond.

You relaxed slightly, offering a small smile as you glanced down at the sleeping kitten in your lap. “I think this little one just likes me.” you said, running a gentle hand over its fur.

He watched the kitten with adoration, petting it softly as well. “You’re quite similar to Lilith.” he murmured and you froze at the mention of her name. “Animals were drawn to her, especially cats. She had this… certain gentleness about her.”

Your fingers stilled, the weight of his words settling over you like a familiar shadow. Here it was again. Another moment, another memory that wasn’t really yours. When will it end?

You were out shopping with Asmodeus, hopping from store to store. Your feet ached unbearably, but despite the discomfort, you found yourself enjoying the moment. He was going on and on about the latest fashion trends and gossip, and you smiled as you listened, entertained by his enthusiasm.

His rambling came to an abrupt stop when his eyes landed on a fragrance shop. With a delighted squeal, he grabbed your hand and eagerly pulled you inside.

The shop was filled with soft, ambient lighting and shelves lined with elegant glass bottles, each containing a different scent. The air was thick with floral, citrus, and musky undertones, blending together into something almost intoxicating.

Asmodeus let go of your hand and immediately darted from display to display, picking up bottles and spritzing them onto tester strips. Meanwhile, you wandered through the shop at your own pace, picking up bottles and sampling various scents, searching for a new one that suited you.

You had just found a light, floral fragrance that you liked when Asmodeus turned to you and gasped dramatically. “Oh! That one!” he exclaimed, holding up the sleek glass bottle. His eyes shimmering with excitement as he spritzed some onto his wrist. “You’ve got good taste Y/N! You know, Lilith also loved this scent! She used to wear it all the time—it was practically made for her.”

Your face fell at the mention of her name once more. God, why does everything have to be about her?

“You should buy it!” he insisted. “I just know it’ll smell amazing on you—just like it did on her.”

You hesitated, staring down at the delicate bottle. The weight of it felt heavier than it should have.

“Go on.” he urged, smiling brightly. “It’ll be perfect on you.” Just like how it was perfect for Lilith.

Then it was Beelzebub. 

You were sitting in the living room, scrolling mindlessly on your D.D.D. Your attention was then interrupted when you heard the main entrance open and close. Beelzebub walked towards you, a smile evident on his soft features, he was holding what looked like a basket of pastries, the sweet aroma filling the air.

“Hey Y/N! I was over at this new pastry shop earlier and look what I got!” He said excitedly, you smiled up at him before he picked one out of the bunch and handed it over to you. It was a strawberry flavored bread, your favorite. You took it from him, about to thank him before he beat you to it. 

“That was Lilith’s favorite!” he said, his voice tinged with a rare gentleness. “I thought you’d like to try it.” You stared at the pastry on your hand, your appetite vanishing. 

“Oh…Thanks, Beel.” you murmured, disappointment evident in your voice. He smiled up at you before heading to his room, surely to eat the rest of the pastries, while you sat there, staring at the bread before placing it in the fridge and walking back to your room.

The bread sat untouched on the refrigerator for days until they went bad, and you threw them away.

You sat hunched over your desk, your room dimly lit by the soft glow of your lamp. The assignment in front of you was due tomorrow, but the words on the page blurred together, your exhausted mind struggling to focus.

This had become your routine—staying up late, drowning yourself in schoolwork, anything to keep your thoughts from spiraling. The dark circles under your eyes had deepened over the past few weeks, proof of just how little rest you were getting.

But it wasn’t just the assignments keeping you up. It was them. 

A soft knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could respond, it creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside.

Belphegor.

He rubbed his eyes, looking just as sleepy as ever, but there was something different in his expression—something more aware, more concerned. He didn’t say anything at first, just took in the sight of you, the exhaustion weighing heavy on your frame.

“…You’re not sleeping.” His voice was quiet, but certain. It wasn’t a question. You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I’ve got a lot to do.” Belphegor didn’t respond right away. Instead, he walked closer, something bundled in his arms. When he reached your side, he held it out to you. A thick, worn blanket.

You blinked at it, hesitant. “What’s this?” He didn’t meet your eyes as he spoke. “It was Lilith’s.”

Oh.

“She always used it when she couldn’t sleep.” he continued, voice softer now. “Said it made her feel safe.”

Your throat tightened as you stared at the fabric in his hands. Still, you reached out, your fingers brushing against the fabric. It was soft, familiar in a way it shouldn’t have been.

“Thanks.” you murmured, forcing a smile. Belphegor nodded, watching you for a moment longer before turning away. “Get some sleep.” he muttered before slipping out of the room.

You held the blanket close, staring down at it, your chest heavy with something you couldn’t name. You were being given another piece of her.

It wasn’t just the gifts that hurt—it was the way they looked at you. Like they were searching for pieces of her in you, hoping to fill the void she’d left behind. Each gift came with the same unspoken message: You’re not Lilith, but we wish you were.

That same night, as you stared at the collection of gifts scattered around your room, you finally broke. The memory of Lilith lingered like a ghost in the House of Lamentation, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape her shadow. And with every gift, every gesture, it became clearer—you were never truly seen. Not for who you were. Not for who you wanted to be. You were a ghost in someone else’s place, a cruel imitation of the sister they lost. Every kindness they offered wasn’t meant for you, no matter how much you laughed, cried, or screamed, it wouldn’t matter. They never cared for you. They cared for the pieces of her they saw in you.

You were her, in all the ways that counted. And you wondered if they would ever realize—if they would ever mourn you, the way they mourned her. Or if you were never meant to be anything more than Lilith’s shadow.

all rights reserved to © suguslve.

[ddarker-dreams]

Redamancy.

Yan Scaramouche x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 1k.

“You scowl too much.” 

If anyone else were to speak to Scaramouche, Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbinger in this way, they’d certainly be reduced to a pitiful pile of ash on the ground. Perhaps he’s thought about subjecting you to this fate, once or twice. That number could very well have been bumped up to three times if the indignant air he currently regards you with is to be considered. 

Then again, no one aside from you would get to experience this deceptively domestic scene. You sit beneath a canopy, branches free from winter’s thaw hastily preparing buds to herald in spring. Scaramouche holds your thighs captive, the soft flesh serving as his pillow. Indigo locks splay out against and tickle your skin. 

“There’s a lot to scowl about,” he replies, though he makes an effort to relax his tense facial muscles. The contemptuous smile he gives makes his previous expression look benevolent in comparison. “I’m stuck dealing with a fool of a woman who’d probably wander off a cliff because she was too busy admiring the clouds.” 

“Clouds are meant to be admired.” 

“Case in point.” 

“You make it sound like I’m chained to you with iron shackles, though,” you raise your ankle (notably shackle free, imagine that), drawing his attention and ire. Your sarcasm never fails to rile him up. He never seriously tries to put a stop to it, however. Such is his capricious nature. “If I’m such a bother, why not let me wander off the cliff?” 

Scaramouche grits his teeth. “Because…” 

There’s a pause, then, weighty and tangible. You know what he both wants and fears to say. If he were any less of a coward, he’d fill the aromatic air with truth, rather than engaging in his usual sidestepping. He’s so proficient at the act you swear he could moonlight as a crab. This mental image earns a barely contained giggle from you, one that further sours his mood, if such a thing were possible. 

Knowing you as intimately as he does, he correctly assumes that he’s the unwitting source of your amusement. 

“I can’t stand you,” he grumbles. Whether it’s to you or himself, you can’t decide. “Truly, I can't.” 

“Then hand me over to someone who can.” 

There’s a flash in his eyes then — otherworldly, malicious — he disregards composure like a snake abandons shed skin. He rises in a flash. Inhumanly cold fingers take your chin captive, bringing you closer to him, his delight in the ease with which he can manhandle you evident. Always the type to go for grand gestures, this one. His theatrical outbursts befit his moniker. 

Scaramouche grins, beset with an onslaught of bitterness akin to a black hole. It draws in and swallows anything unfortunate enough to be nearby. 

“You just love testing my patience, don’t you?” 

If you feared him, maybe you’d tremble, but you don’t, so you are still. It’s likely that you should fear him. He is volatile, a mess of contradictions too complicated to untangle, a vessel who fills himself with acrimony, the same way humans must with air. He delights in it and considers it his birthright. 

Your smile is not without kindness and that’s what bothers him most. 

“Come, don’t pout. I have no intentions of being complicit in whatever havoc you'd wreak if I was with another.” 

His eye twitches at the pesky word ‘another’. The mere thought of this faceless, nonexistent being having the audacity to lay claim to you, even in the land of fantasy, has his nostrils flaring and jaw tightening. You can see the ripple of muscles beneath his synthetic skin. He’s a wonder, this proprietorial doll, who can exalt and condemn you in the same breath. 

You are mine, and mine alone, his eyes seem to scream, and I’d sooner end the world than exist in it without having you for myself. 

“You really do scowl too much,” you reiterate your opinion from earlier, gently, almost sweetly. Whatever spell Scaramouche was under temporarily breaks, or perhaps he’s held prisoner to a new one, far more agreeable if not equally dangerous. “Your face is too pretty to always be frowning.” 

You enchant him by running your finger over his lower lip. It trembles by your command. His eyes go lidded, a lovelorn haze obscuring the former tempest. He can never decide if he wants to destroy or devour you. For someone like him, he can’t do one without the other. His love for you is a death sentence, despite the immortality that should’ve never belonged to your mortal body. 

It’s you who kisses him. 

He temporarily forgets himself. The arrogance, the hurt, the fear that you might slip between his fingers should he ever relax his hold. You find him foolish in that regard. He can have you in the palm of his hand if he likes, and you know he’d like that very much. There’s nowhere else for you to be. Not when he’s seen to the fact himself. 

Scaramouche melts into your person, returning your kiss with rapture, drunk on the way you offer yourself to him. He makes a deep, breathy noise, willing you closer, demanding total subservience. You let him have his way. Civilizations could rise and fall in the seconds that follow, and he’d pay them no mind, too absorbed with savoring your temporary connection. 

It is what he lives for; what he'd kill for.

His fair skin is flushed when you part. From the apple of his cheeks to the tip of his ears, he’s painted in a color from your palette. The pigmentation suits him. Red is the color around his eyes, of his longing for you, and of what would spill across the land should you ever part. 

“There,” you whisper, as if it were a secret meant for him alone, “That look suits you far better.” 

He wants to deny it — you can tell by how his grip tightens — but he remains uncharacteristically quiet. If he gets to delight in you, it’s only fair that you can occasionally delight in him, he supposes. 

Such is your capricious nature. 

[kanencrow]

Ponds and Ponderment - Shauna Shipman | One Shot

Summary: Shauna finds you at the pond with a guitar in your arms, after you run off to get away from 'Ben's impromptu gun lesson'. She finds out your reasoning for why you don't want to take part, and the two of you share a moment of mostly peaceful conversation and comforting silence, before it's inevitably interrupted by an awkward Javi.

Warnings: Swearing, Guns, Established Relationship, Triggering Dialogue (brief talk of r's dad's attempted suicide).

A/N: All characters are 18+ by default. Feel like I got a little carried away in writing this, so forgive me if there's too much description and not enough dialogue! I edited this one as much as I could to make it so that you and Shauna have an actually established relationship, too. Didn't want to pull what I did with my last Jackie one shot and make it full of tension lol.

Word Count: 4000+

Somehow, allowing your bare feet to slide through the clear liquid of the pond they hung over provided you with a sense of calm from the otherwise stressful atmosphere, as you mindlessly plucked a tune with the nylon strings connected to the guitar in your arms. The bloom of the sun shone between the trees and onto you, while you sat at the edge of where land plummeted into a small body of water. Even with the distant thought of your impending doom while you all waited for a rescue from the forest, you still managed to find a sliver of serenity in the moment you had to yourself. Granted, the wounds – albeit trivial – still lingered as a soft throb, but the original pain had significantly lessened, which made navigating the new lifestyle you lived a little easier.

The soft melody of the instrument was all you focused on. You hummed softly, matching the notes you played with your fingers and thumbs, but it was mindless and uncoordinated in the way it progressed. Still, somehow, the music that you could hear didn't sound like nails on a chalkboard. It instilled a sense of hope, in a way. You tried to keep the tune that emitted as lighthearted as possible, and you were glad that you had seemed to succeed in something that came across as so simple to someone with a naturally optimistic mind. You made sure to relish in your own little victory, though, as the ghost of a smile creeped up onto your lips, like an annoying pull.

You were certain you would have lost yourself in the act of playing the guitar, if it weren't for the soft clearing of someone's throat from behind you, as a grouping of sticks quietly crunched under their shoe. It didn't take you long to turn your body and look over your shoulder to take in the sight of whoever approached you, and when your eyes fell onto Shauna, your posture visibly straightened, as a natural smile overtook the one that had barely been noticeable just a moment ago. Still, even then, it was small in comparison to the ones you shared with your girlfriend in the past, but it didn't seem like she took offense to your lack of expression.

"Hey, Y/n." The pause between her greeting and saying your name didn't go unnoticed by you. Maybe she was surprised to see you sitting at the edge of the earth, above a pond that hopefully didn't have anything lurking within the depths of it. Maybe she was treading lightly, not wanting to set you off, because it wasn't like you portrayed yourself as a full blown optimist when you stormed away from the cabin earlier, after Travis almost blew everyone’s head off with the rifle you found. Whatever trepidation she carried, it seemed to visibly fade, when you lifted your leg up to rest it on the grass and turned towards the brunette, your palm resting over the strings of your guitar, just so it didn't play an unwarranted tune.

"Hey, Shaunie," you greeted back, which was the ultimate sign that you weren't going to send your earlier annoyances towards her. You could tell that she appreciated such. She sent you a small smile, while she clutched her signature leather notebook against her hip, cradling it with her fingers and palm, and you couldn't help but lower your eyes to ogle the item for a moment, before you eventually flickered your gaze back up to meet her own. "What're you up to?" You made sure to keep your tone light, not wanting to come across as though you were some detective wanting to know her every move and thought, but you couldn’t really help your curiosity, since everything she did interested you.

She was your girlfriend. 

Luckily, she didn't seem to take your question the wrong way. With a simple glance down towards her notebook, Shauna shrugged her shoulders and pressed her lips together, before she lifted her chin to level her focus with your own. "Just... looking for a quiet place to write, I guess," she stated, before she slowly started walking forward, seemingly choosing the spot beside you as a good place to do such. “And, maybe I was also just looking for you,” she added on after a second, with a shy tone underlining her voice, as she lowered her head and smiled awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by her own admittance. 

The gentle smirk that formed on your cheeks in response to her demeanor was immediate, and as you followed her form, your head was forced to lift, just so you could fully watch her face while she lowered her posture and sat down. Her movements were careful, which wasn’t necessarily a surprise, considering the pond was right in front of the two of you, and by the time she set her book to the side to unlace her shoes, you scooted closer to her and slowly leaned in to press a soft kiss to the bone of her cheek. "Didn't want to be involved in Coach Ben's impromptu gun lesson?" you asked quietly, murmuring the humorous question out as you pulled your face back slightly and reached out to settle a comforting hand on her thigh. 

The position was a little awkward with the guitar in your arms, sure, but it was worth the slight discomfort, when Shauna leaned into your shoulder at your small act of affection, when you eventually turned your body to fully face the outcrops of the rest of the forest again. Your leg dropped back down to lull over the pond, and while you felt the weight of your girlfriend rest against you, you felt your chest warm, as the pad of your thumb mindlessly rubbed over one of the nylon strings of your guitar.

"Guess not," she inevitably admitted, pausing to think about it for a moment, while her brown eyes stared towards nothing in particular, "I don't think I'm meant to handle firearms," she clarified, which earned an agreeable hum from you, understanding the sentiment that you yourself couldn't help but share. 

Your girlfriend heard your sound, too, and so it didn't take her long to acknowledge you, when you felt her hand, warm and slightly calloused from the days of work around the cabin, rest against the skin of your knee, "I take it you're not a fan, either?" she questioned softly, "Is that why you left?"

"Kinda," you replied, "you remember how I used to go hunting with my dad? I'd be gone for the entire weekend, so I'd sometimes miss practice?" you reminded her quietly, as the nail of your thumb scraped along the wood of the guitar, and when she silently nodded her head against your shoulder, you continued. "He taught me how to use a rifle. We used it to kill deer, sometimes boar, or even some turkey. Y’know… whatever we could find in a forest."

You paused and squinted your eyes subconsciously, as they narrowed towards the trees. "I never told you this, but my dad had a habit of getting a little... emotional whenever he was drunk," you explained, "so... one night, I went out to the garage to grab a can of soda, and... I saw him on the steps with that same rifle held up to his chin…” you trailed off and swallowed, “it was, uh… pretty shocking."

The moment you stopped talking, your voice trailing off, Shauna's expression fell, and a look of genuine shock painted itself over her features, before she lifted her head from your shoulder and turned her face to look at you. "You... never told me that," she stated, her voice distant in thought, as her tone portrayed her disturbance. "When did that happen?" she then asked, as she subtly scooted closer to your side, pressing herself flush against you, and smoothed her free hand up to your upper thigh. She was attempting to provide you with her own form of comfort, and it seemed to work in her favor, when your knee lulled to the side slightly to nudge against her own, as if to convey your appreciation.

You shrugged your shoulders mindlessly, almost too shy to even continue, "Happened, like, a year or two ago," you admitted, as your finger mindlessly plucked a single nylon string, which emitted a quiet, high-pitched note. "He saw me, and um... I expected him to be angry with me, but he just... he started crying and promised that he wasn't going to touch a gun again." You shrugged your shoulders and flinched your eyebrows down, still confused by his reaction, to this day. "Seeing him like that was pretty... intense," you mumbled, as you lowered your head down to rest it against your guitar, your chin nestling against the wood while a sigh escaped from your nostrils. "After that, we stopped going on those trips, and I was fine with that, but... I couldn't look at a rifle the same way." You suddenly let out a quiet chuckle, "Which sounds kinda dumb when I say it out loud, but..."

"It's not dumb," Shauna replied, her voice stern, but still containing a certain softness to it, while her eyes roamed your side profile, and her hand came up from your thigh to rest against the back of your head. She spotted a fading bruise on the side of your neck when her fingers combed through the strands of your hair, and with no one around, she chanced a moment to lean towards you and press a gentle peck to your temple. "I wish you told me, but I can understand why you didn't," she admitted quietly, while she pulled away to watch you intently, her brown irises filling with concern towards you.

You shrugged, feeling heat rise to your neck at her affection, as your lips pursed in thought. "I didn't know how," you defended, "and it just felt wrong to openly say that about my dad," you told her, before the corner of your lip quivered and you let out a bittersweet huff through your nose. "My mom doesn't even know about it." You paused for a moment, before you spoke up again with a quieter volume to your voice. “It just didn’t feel right to tell anyone that my dad tried to, y’know… shoot himself." Your tone carried thought, like you were only just now thinking about that particular memory and letting yourself go through the motions. 

But you cut yourself off from thinking about for much longer.

Intentionally, you started playing the guitar that remained in your arms when Shauna didn't make the effort to respond to you. You didn't hold it against her. The quiet was something the two of you mutually found comfort in, especially when it also consisted of being in each other's presence. Simply existing together, without the need to try and fill the silent void with meaningless conversation that only came off as repetitive and annoying. It only caused you to lose yourself in the tune of your instrument, keeping it soft and weightless, for the sake of aiding the girl beside you in concentrating on whatever it was that she eventually started doing with the notebook that she had in her hands. You had only glanced down once to take in the sight of the book, but it was so quick that it didn't allow you the chance to truly snoop and figure out her intentions.

It wasn't like that was something you did anyways. You knew better than anyone else not to touch her journal, because she valued the secrecy of it. Like now, with how she was conscious in hiding the page she wrote on by lifting the leather cover to shield the paper that adorned her… questionable handwriting. It was a habit of hers more than anything – she knew you wouldn’t peek, so you couldn’t bring yourself to feel offended by the action, as obvious as it was. If anything, you felt a little envious that she was able to have that outlet. You would have killed to have some sort of camcorder or diary to relay your feelings to. You could vent, or rant, and there wouldn't have been that natural judgement one would typically get from a human being.

Though you digressed.

"What song is that?"

You heard the faint smack of Shauna closing her journal from beside you, while you peered over the guitar and watched your fingers pluck the strings. You weren't wanting to make a mistake, though at the sound of her voice, you almost did, which caused you to bring the made-up tune to a stop and retract your hand, letting your wrist hang over the thick wood of the acoustic. "Just my own," you admitted, as you turned your head to meet her curious eyes.

She gave you a look of confusion in turn, and you smiled small, as you mindlessly glanced down to look at her hands that rested over the book that sat in her lap. Seeing them made your stomach unconsciously flutter, when you thought about how they always touched you with gentleness and love. "Guess you could call it improv music making," you added, while you lifted your eyes up to look her way again, feeling bashful. "Just kinda... going with the flow."

Shauna seemed to become endeared by your explanation when a lopsided smirk creeped up onto her lips. "In all the time I’ve known you, I never knew you played." She shifted in her spot, lifting her leg up, so that it rested against the earth below you and her, and you noticed the way she turned her body to fully face you, as if to silently convey that she was open to you.

"You're good, babe," she admitted quietly, before she gestured towards the instrument and cleared her throat, growing a little embarrassed by her compliment. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. "At the guitar, I mean." She didn't need to clarify, but you still appreciated such, as a quiet huff of amusement slipped from you, while your smile grew into a soft grin.

"Thanks, Shaunie," you told her, making sure to address her by the nickname that only you and Jackie were allowed to use for her. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and it ballooned up your neck and created a borderline uncomfortable warmth that you couldn't push away, no matter how hard you tried. It was hard to ignore the fact that her compliments made you feel important. Maybe it was the reassurance that you were still good at something that caused you to feel so flattered in response to her kindness. You lacked the mental capability to handle a gun, due to the trauma that surrounded it, but at least you could play the guitar. No one else could, but you could. So, that had to count for something.

All you could do was try and search for the light that sat at the end of the tunnel, when it came to the entire situation that you and the rest of the Yellowjackets faced. You tried not to think about it, but you couldn't ignore the new lifestyle you had to live. You tried to smile, you tried to be lighthearted and optimistic towards the fact that you all were stranded in the fucking woods, but it was borderline impossible. You were lucky that you had a medical box full of Tylenol and other pain pills for your wounds – which hadn't caused too many issues for you as of late – or else… well…

You didn’t really want to think about the other outcome. 

"Are you guys not doing the gun thing?"

You snapped out of your whirlwind of thoughts when you heard the distant voice of Javi from over your shoulder. Clearing your throat, you turned your body to look at him, and Shauna did the same, her knees pulled up into her body, while yours crossed over each other to rest completely on the dirt. You hung your arms over your guitar as you addressed the younger boy with a small smile, speaking before the girl beside you could. "Nah," you replied, voice shaking slightly, which forced you to swallow thickly, "that whole gun thing isn't really our thing." Your girlfriend seemed to agree with your sentiment, when she nodded her head and let out an awkward chuckle.

Javi nodded, while he stepped over rocks and lumps that sat on the earth to make it closer to the two of you. His attention seemed to fall onto Shauna and what laid in her lap, and at his obvious focus, you couldn't help but move your attention over to where her hands sat, too. They were covering the journal that had a pen sitting within the spine of it, closed and preventing your eyes from seeing her terrible handwriting, and you found a warmth of affection bloom within your chest, seeing her protection over the notebook in action, which caused the corners of your lips to curve up into a small smile. "What are you writing?" he questioned.

Shauna's attention was immediately drawn towards the younger kid, in response to his question, and she shrugged her shoulders in reply to his curiosity. "It's my journal," she answered simply, as she glanced down at it for a split second, before she raised her brown eyes back up to meet Javi's, who donned a look of innocent confusion on his features in reply.

"Like, a diary?".

"Yeah," your girlfriend replied, "kind of." She flitted her eyes away from him to stare at nothing, seemingly losing herself in a temporary bout of thought. "It's just my way of trying to make sense of what's going on and... how I feel about it." She glanced at you and let out a quiet, nervous laugh, and you smiled softly at her in reply, while she unconsciously continued with a shrug, her focus moving back up to the younger kid. "Well, that probably sounds pretentious, but... hey, when I'm famous, they can go into the archives, right?"

"I'd buy one of your books," you uttered absentmindedly, which earned a flattered smile from Shauna, when she glanced back over to you and sent you an expression of love, just with her brown irises that you often found yourself daydreaming about. And you bashfully shrugged in turn, trying to play it cool – like you weren’t screaming from the inside at the look she gave you, as your chin lowered to rest on your guitar, and your forearm acted as a cushion as you glanced at the floor between you and her. "You know, like... if we ever get out of here," you added on, after a moment.

Javi lingered around, and his presence seemed to cast a shadow over your body, which caused you to lull your head to the side, just so you could look up at the boy while you still rested against your arm. He stared at Shauna's notebook, and it didn't take long before she recognized what he was silently trying to convey, when you heard the sound of something ripping to your left. "Here," she uttered, as he reached forward to grab the pen and slip of paper she held out for him to take, "there's no wrong way to do it."

Javi clutched the gift he received to his chest in response, and you smiled gently at the sight, as he sent her an appreciative nod, before he stepped back and walked away from the two of you without another word. You and she watched his form disappear behind a pairing of trees, and by the time he had fully vanished from your sight, you moved your gaze back over to Shauna, who held an expression of contentment on her features. Seeing happiness exude from her caused your stomach to flutter with butterflies. 

"Are we sure that's Travis' brother?" you questioned quietly, your voice echoing as a whisper. You almost expected Shauna to not hear you, with how hushed you were, but when she shifted her eyes away from where Javi had gone to look at you, it was clear that she had. You immediately noticed the way her eyebrows creased, as though your comment had confused her greatly, and her lack of understanding only seemed to endear you, when you lifted your head up from your guitar and leveled your focus with her. "He's, like... super sweet, compared to his older brother."

"Oh," Shauna hummed, suddenly realizing what you were attempting to convey. It didn't take her long to nod her head in response to your opinion, as a small laugh slipped from her lips, and she nodded her head. "Yeah, I guess he is." She glanced away to think for a moment, and you waited patiently while you shifted in your spot, trying to find more comfort in your position. "He's young, though. Who knows, that sweetness might turn into something else," she admitted, which earned an agreeable grunt from you.

But you couldn't help but grow a little disappointed at her assumption, when you lowered your gaze to focus on the nail of your thumb that mindlessly picked at the ridge of your guitar. "I really hope not." Shauna moved her brown eyes to stare down at you, and she felt a frown weigh on her lips at the melancholic expression that lined your exhausted features. "Between him and Laura Lee, I think they're the only two that have some shred of optimism left," you said, before adding, "and Jackie. I think she's trying to keep everyone's mood on the up and up, but I can tell that she's losing her hope, too." 

The way she couldn’t even get out of bed today was proof in itself. 

Shauna's expression fell into a look of deep contemplation at your words in regards to her best friend, and she absentmindedly nodded in agreement. "Yeah," she murmured, "I think you might be right."

You huffed, though it lacked the usual amusement, as you lifted your chin up to look at her with your eyes that she herself often found herself enraptured by, always loving the colors of them and the way they blended to create a unique, one-of-a-kind hue that was yours. "Unfortunately." You grabbed the neck of your guitar and lifted it off of your lap to set it beside you, and it created a quiet thump against the earth in turn. "I don't mean to be a Debby Downer, but... it's just hard to pretend. I can't pretend." You scooted closer to Shauna the moment you said those words, and she was quick to take you into her arms, when you leaned your head against her shoulder and hugged her tightly. "Not to myself, at least, or someone else who also realizes that things are pretty grim."

"It's not that I think things are grim," Shauna replied, gently countering your implicated assumption of her thoughts, as she tilted her chin down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. She breathed in deeply the moment she pulled back, before she let the air flow out of her nostrils, and when she turned her head to stare out towards the pond, you lifted your eyes to look up at her face, which allowed you to see the way her brow creased in ponderment. "I just think... people need to be more realistic, I guess," she clarified, which earned an understanding nod from you in response.

"I hear you," you uttered mindlessly, which forced Shauna to turn her head to look back down at you again, her arms squeezing you gently, as a small, melancholic smile came to her lips. You sent her one back, upon meeting her stare with a simple raise of your chin, and after a silent moment that consisted of the two of you keeping your focuses interconnected, you flicked your eyes down and stiffly shrugged, while you pressed your lips together shyly and moved one of your arms away from her waist to pluck at the fabric of her flannel. "I guess all we can really do is make the most of it, though, right?"

At your attempt to keep the atmosphere light, Shauna let out a quiet huff through her nose, before she lifted a hand to rub at your bicep and stared towards the trees, content to just watch the forest while she kept you secure in her own protective embrace. 

"Right," she muttered. 

[steven-has-exploded]

okay ive looked over the last few chapters and the various amenogozen deaths after about a day of crisis and confusion, and ive noticed a couple things about junichirous death in specific that i think are more than worth noting

firstly, amenogozen seems to show some kind of pity for kunikida and his state of shock before it kills him, and even as its stabbing its sword into his stomach. it lets him attempt to pull it out with no resistance, albeit acting as if it makes no sense by saying it cant truly harm him- though this could potentially be seen as an attempt to "console" him

junichirou, on the other hand? nothing. amenogozen stabs the illusion he created of himself with no hesitation, and no words to spare. when it locates the real junichirou, it coldly stabs him through the brain and out the eye from behind, where he couldnt have even tried to locate its attack

under cut is further rambling, warning for that one page where junichirou gets stabbed in the eye + mentions of sexual abuse

narratively, this is definitely because of the explicit bloodlust junichirou expressed towards amenogozen; it attacked as quickly as possible with as little chance for him to fight back because he's obviously dangerous, and fyodor instructed it to kill all of the ada members there as soon as possible. but, in a more metaphorical sense, especially when comparing it to kunikidas "death" (hes not dead i dont believe any of them are like seriously) it gets. um. upsetting

considering the way it seemed to try and console kunikida as i mentioned earlier, comparisons can be drawn to that of an abusive parent, although ill just be saying its an unspecified authority figure for the sake of this rant. in this metaphor, junichirou seems to play the role of the "disobedient" victim; whereas kunikida was frozen in place and didnt do much to fight against amenogozen attacking himself specifically, junichirou was immediately aggressive and threatened amenogozen, prompting it to "punish" him as soon as possible

now, this on its own is far from groundbreaking; if you did a drinking game for every time a character was mentioned to have been abused by an authority figure in bsd youd be dead before episode 6, but its the specific imagery evoked in junichirous death scene that really gets to me

looking at this page more closely, especially in the first and third panels, brought up some EXTREMELY unsavory implications for me. the specific way that the action of him being stabbed is drawn, what with the blood oozing from around his whole eye and the way you can just barely make out what looks like the inside of the eye socket, all exacerbated by amenogozen practically pulling his hair to keep him in place and unable to fight back... look im not gonna pretend like this isnt based off my preexisting perception of junichirou and his trauma but oh my god this feels so much like an allegory for some kind of sexual exploitation, especially the fact it was the EYE in particular which is an already existing opening in the body kind of

could this just be me going insane? very much so, not gonna deny it. do i fullheartedly believe thats whats being pointed at here? yeah actually

and the worst part of it is that junichirou is just so dejected during this whole thing. he pointed out his location to amenogozen when it stabbed his illusion, phrased his request to atsushi as if it were last words, and was just in general so horribly unsurprised by the attack. whatever this is symbolizing, my personal interpretation or not, junichirou has grown so used to it he cant even bring himself to act like he really cares about it anymore. youre going to hell kafka asagiri

[patricia-taxxon]

heya! i just rewatched your sc2020 video…again… and then found out you're on tumblr and, of course, immediately went to look if you've posted anything about sj aswell and found that post from *checks notes* 1.5 months ago - so, i guess what im here to ask is, would you mind elaborating on that?

im unfamiliar with marble blast (im so sorry i do not have the brainpower to watch your essay on that...yet) so the comparison you make is not particularly useful to me :v

also for context, i did contribute to sj, specifically playtesting and programming, so i do have Opinions™ (that im gonna keep to myself due to lack of anon ask (not a bad thing! i understand why you have it off)) and i wonder if those happen to bleed through to the player experience or if your gripes with it are something different entirely.

well, firstly, i have developed such a deep seated hatred of the celeste community that i haven't opened the game in months and i've considered just deleting my spring collab video multiple times, I'm not finishing any more of my maps because I don't want to make anything for these people. so i didn't actually finish SJ, I did everything up to & including the easy half of the grandmaster lobby though, and my take is that even with the few miracles I found within the map list, it would not have inspired a video essay on the level of the spring collab one if I'd played it first. it's just not as interesting, and not as rewarding to study. it represents a horrible misattribution of priorities that permeates the entire community.

in that video, i confidently say that spring collab is ALWAYS interesting, because modding culture is interesting even if it's interesting for being a little bad or revealing something about the author's proclivities. strawberry jam represents a near unanimous drive to remove authorship and make levels that are impartially agreeable, to make Celeste 2. it's only interesting when the mapper does something interesting on purpose, like Paint, Pointless Machines, Undergrowth, Summit Down-Side or Flipside Cliffside. a path of least resistance emerged in the time between SC2020 and Strawberry Jam, and experiencing it in this quantity made me forget what I liked about this game or this modding scene in the first place. the volume of creative gimmicks and varied aesthetics is huge, but each one starts to feel identical after being ground through this particular jank-averse process. I still have strong opinions about every map in SC2020, even the ones that might seem unremarkable, I can only barely begin to quantify the entire fucking C tier of my SJ tierlist. it's diverse on the surface but the substance is homogenous, especially intermediate through expert.

also in my SC2020 video, I talked about a certain tension that arrives once you get to the expert lobby, where the mappers had to create uncommercial levels of difficulty that rubbed against a similar apparent drive to make the player feel like they're actually doing the challenge & not just watching it. strawberry jam arrives at this conflict far earlier, the INTERMEDIATE maps and onwards are the ones that seem to pull between making interesting challenges while also having the player be an agent in those challenges. they want the intermediate levels to feel hard, look cool, and the solution is to just make them ridiculously constrained so the only way is the ~satisfying~ way. that's why I won't make a video about strawberry jam, because many segments in my spring collab video already serve as criticism for strawberry jam. it made the same mistakes again, but worse, and with far less of the things that made me love spring collab in spite of its flaws.

here's my tierlist, if there are any questions i'll try and qualify any of these takes with what i can remember from playing it. however, for reasons stated previously I won't be playing more so this is probably gonna be it.

[revel-inbluehues]

Oh my goodness gracious, I am several different types of broken rn. I just watched episode 7, and I NEED TO RANT AND I'M PROBABLY GOING TO LEAK A SPOILER OR TWO.

Okay, firstly, the first half was hilarious, just FX and MQ being absolute comedic gold. I completely forgot that FX was afraid of women since I read the novels a long time ago, but it was hilarious. He looked so disgusted. Them getting in funny situation is good as it is, but the animators did a fantastic job at the facial expressions of FX, MQ and the background heavenly officials who were hearing all of this play out. I laughed at it all, and poor SQX being embarrassed, tired, and exasperated at the dice shenanigans that he had to deal with earlier.

But, funny as it was, the second part was my favourite bit.

I literally froze when I saw Fang Xin. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Knowing what that blade had done, the history it has made it so much more impactful since this is the first time since this is the first time XL is seeing it in 600 years or so while this is the first time HC is seeing it in around 800 years if I remember it correctly. It is such a metaphorically heavy blade, and seeing its design and animation is so very beautiful.

Meanwhile, LQQ commented on how different XL seemed, and XL responded on how this is how he always was, just that LQQ never knew it. Even still, XL felt like a teacher to LQQ, so I feel like no matter how separate XL tried to be, he did very much care for LQQ as I'm sure the next episode will show.

But I think the major part that got me was LQQ's speech about not becoming full of resentment or like XL, which is one hell of a gut punch. Once again, bravo to the animators for that little cut to XL's eyes widening. I always knew LQQ was a parallel to XL, and it is most clearest here. In that moment, XL knew that he was LQQ's White No Face, and that, in LQQ's perspective, where he started the worst moments of his life in a twisted attempt to make LQQ just as resentful as him. It was a fantastic comparison and a terrible irony to XL, something he clearly acknowledged as he laughed and tried so hard not to cry. XL's comparison to the White No Face is something that will probably hurt every time, since to XL, only he and JW know about it, and he's unable to share the burden of what happened, which probably just hurts even more. The parallel between LQQ's words to XL and XL's words to White No-Face is so painful, especially to XL, who thinks that it's his burden to bare, and it probably hurts more when you consider that he literally just got Fang Xin back.

And throughout all of this, the one other person who knew all of this, and wanted to share the burden was standing right next to him, looking hurt and about to cry as he watch his most loved hurt. HC knew the significance of it all, and it was a stark reminder of all the times he failed to protect the one he loved the most, and since this right after he accidently hurt XL as well, this must be painful for him too. There is so much foreshadowing for all the donghua-watchers only and so much tragedy underlining this scene.

The part where XL hesitated to hold Fangxin, when you know everything, hurts so much. It caused him so much trauma, wielding it would have just been such a painful reminder.

Let me move onto fangirling before I cry.

Firstly, I was waiting for the daruma doll bit for a while. He looks so cute and angry at the same time. It's adorable, and I laughed when LQQ side-eyed HC in the daruma form.

Secondly, why do HC and XL still look so HOT EVEN AS THE WEIRD CANDLE DEMONS, OMG???? HC with horns, blue skins, and black sclera is going to haunt me for DAYS, and XL looks so good with it as well. The candles on their heads look so funny though.

The next episode is for the Qi Rong simps, and I would like to remind everyone that Qi Rong, heathen that he is, is still physically hot, even if I have the visceral desire to punch him.

[ijustwantogohomehogwarts]

c o m f o r t

c o m f o r t

Sirius has just left home, and regulus isn't handling it well. He and hufflepuff!reader are still developing their friendship, but he comes to her in his time if need

warning and such:

- sx is mentioned in passing , not proofread, written at 3am

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Regulus has always just “blended in.” He wouldn’t dare be caught at the center of attention; even being in the foreground was pushing his limits of comfortability. He and Sirius couldn’t be more opposite, but that was the only comparison I would ever make between the two Blacks. 

It wasn’t a secret that the most noble and ancient house of black was nothing shy of cruel and torturous, and the boys dealt with it on polar opposite ends of the spectrum. I have the privilege of knowing them both for who they are, I know first hand that they couldn’t be any more different, and yet still so similar. 

I would like to say that I have gotten “somewhere” with Regulus. The boy who once wouldn’t make eye contact or hold a conversation, will now sit down and study with me. He can manage small talk during meals, and I’ve even seen him laugh when we’re alone. I’ve grown fond of him, but I know better than to push.

So I’m content to exist and let him seek me out. I tell myself that being there, should he need a buffer between him and himself, I’d be happy to play the part. 

…

Regulus had seemed quiet, more on edge the last few days than I had ever seen him. Rumors spread, and I knew first hand, that Sirius had left home, with no intention of returning. I couldn’t imagine being in the same house, alone, with Walburga and Orion Black. I had met them only once, and that was more than enough to last me in this lifetime and next! Regulus tried to assure everyone who pushed on the subject that he was “fine” and wouldn’t let the conversation continue beyond that. 

I saw right through his charade and knew that he was in fact much less than ‘fine,’ probably the furthest from it, but again, I bit my tongue and tried not to push. I didn’t want to feel as though I was walking on eggshells around him, that he was so fragile he could break with one wrong look, but it was impossible to continue life as if it was “just another day.”

To compensate, I made more of an effort to keep Regulus from being alone. I stayed up later to study in the common room. I got up earlier. I made excuses to pass him in the hallways when I knew he would be wondering about the castle. Anything I could think of, so long as it didn’t border on stalking. I had never been more relieved that I didn’t need much sleep to function, and I did the same for Sirius, of course I did, but I worried about him less. His friends were far more open about being supportive and available. 

It was Sunday, and we only had a few more days before break started and we would be gone for a week. I heard soft knocking on my door, so soft I almost thought I had dreamt it. But it continued, never amplifying. I peered at the clock on the table beside me, it was barely 6am. I stretched, throwing the covers off to the side and stumbled across the cold floor. I opened my door, squinting at the light that poured through the big windows. There, a few feet down the hall and turning back to face my door, was Regulus. 

He was dressed down, a white t-shirt, sweatpants and black socks. For a boy who didn’t wear anything that wasn’t tailored before I met him, I would call this progress. His curls were hanging loosely in front of his face, his eyes were red and puffy, and his whole body showed evidence of his lack of sleep. He tried to smile as he crept slowly back towards my door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake,” I smiled, trying to hide a yawn. I pushed my door open further, inviting him in. “Allez, parle-moi.”

Regulus didn’t say anything about my speaking French, though it was normally something that would excite him. I sat on the edge of my unmade bed and watched as he nervously looked around, scratching the back of his arm. This wasn’t the first time he’s been in here, the first time we’ve been alone together, or the first time he’s come to me at odd hours, but there was definitely something going on in that beautiful mind of his. 

“Regulus, are-”

“You don’t have to call me that,” He sighed. 

“I’ll call you anything you want me to call you, love. Reg? Reggie?”

He smiled at ‘Reggie,” nodding quietly,  but the excitement seemed to fade just as quickly as it appeared, and I could see tears brimming in his eyes. I grabbed his arm and pulled him down to sit on the bed beside me, my arm staying on the small of his back, his head resting, reluctantly at first, on my shoulder.

“I know what you’re doing,” he started, trying to collect himself as he spoke. “I see you everywhere I go.”

“Reggie, I’m sorry. I just-” 

“Thank you.” He sobbed. 

I didn’t know whether to feel pride or guilt, so I settled on sympathy. I don’t know how long this had been brewing inside of him, perhaps a few days, perhaps since the night Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. However long, I was content to sit and comfort him for twice as long. I didn’t press, I just let him let it out. 

Eventually, he stopped and tried to compose himself, rubbing his cheeks quickly and sniffling a few more times. 

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Of course not,”

I gestured to the door at the other end of the room, and watched as he disappeared behind it. I could hear the tap running and took a minute to wave my wand around the room, tidying up and making the bed. 

I was pulling a jumper on as he reemerged. 

“I should go. Y/n, I’m sorry again I shouldn’t-”

“Come here,” I smiled, climbing up to the head of my bed, leaving plenty of room for company. I didn’t know what to expect from Reggie, I’ve never known him to be intimate, or otherwise share a bed with anyone before. Why should I be any different?

“I don’t want to take up any more of your time-”

“I’m not asking you to have sex with me Reggie,” I chuckled, patting the bed beside me. “Come sit, let’s talk.”

He hesitated, but sat anyway.

We talked. We talked about school, Reggie's favorite classes, the potions and charms he was working on outside of class. We talked about Barty and Evan and the nonsense they get themselves into.... This was the most I had ever heard him talk, more than all the other times in the last 3 years combined, and so, rather quickly, we ran out of things to talk about, without talking about the elephant in the room. 

“How is he?” Reg eventually asked, playing with a loose thread on my pillowcase. He was laying on his stomach beside me. 

“He’s surviving. Having a go around with James on the daily.” Reg chuckled. “He’s safe, Reggie. He’s worried about you though, he feels guilty for ‘leaving you behind.’”

I watched as the smile dropped from his lips and he buried his face in the pillow, trying to hide the tears that began to fall again. I scooched down next to him, draping an arm over his hips as I began to rub his back again.

“Can you hear me?” He nodded, but didn’t look up.

“Reggie, no one should have to endure what you and Sirius had to. There’s no love in that house. No hope, no admiration, no family. It was only ever you and your brother, and I can’t imagine what it’s like now that he’s gone, but you need to understand that what happened, it’s not your fault!” 

He turned his head, arms still tucked under himself, curls covering his face. I rubbed his knuckles, pulling his arm from his chest and putting it behind my back. His breathing hitched, nerves and unease settling in his body. My fingers danced up his bare arm and across his shoulder. I smiled at him, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, letting my fingers linger in his curls a moment longer than necessary. He closed his eyes again, sighing heavily as he relaxed into my touch. 

I repeated the motion, tucking strand after strand of hair behind his ear, until all the pieces were nestled back into place. My fingers trailed back down his shoulders and to his arm, my nails dragging the skin causing goosebumps at the gentle touch. Regulus smiled, but didn’t open his eyes. He felt for my hand and returned it to his head. 

I carded my fingers through his curls, scratching lightly at the back of his head and repeating affirmations with every pass. 

“You are strong.”

“You are brave.”

“You are smart.”

“You are loved” Regulus shuttered. 

“You are loyal.”

“You are kind.”

“You are careful.”

“You are loved.” Regulus shuttered again, gripping the fabric of my jumper tightly.

“You are gentle.”

“You are confident.”

“You are safe.”

“You are loved.” 

I repeated this, over and over again, each time the word love was mentioned, Regulus pulled himself closer to me. I couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment, or if he was trying to hide himself from the word, as if the word itself was cursed.

Eventually, the shuttering was replaced with heavy breathing, and I resolved to believe that Reg was asleep. I sighed happily to myself, content that he felt at peace, safe enough to sleep. The feeling was overwhelming, and I too found myself beginning to nod off, still tugging lightly on his hair as he slept.

When I woke, Reg was still asleep, though his death grip on my jumper was gone, his cold fingers lay delicately on the bare skin of my stomach, his head on my chest. I stirred quietly, trying not to wake him. I kissed the top of his head, smiling at the realization that, despite knowing he most definitely had been awake at some point, he stayed.

I glanced at the clock and laughed to myself; we had slept for nearly 10 hours. Dinner would be starting soon, and the common room outside was coming to life. (Rather, it had been alive for hours now, but this was the first I was hearing of it.) I reached for my wand, drawing the blinds slightly, silenced the world outside my door, and summoned my book.

I read for about an hour before the boy beside me stated to come to life. He gripped me tightly as he stretched. I kissed his head again, and smiled as he groaned contently.

“Wait a minute,” 

“Hmm?” Regulus let go of me entirely and quickly, looking up at me as his hair began to fall in his face again.

“How did you get in here this morning?!” 

He looked at me, nervous for a moment, before we both dissolved into a fit of laughter. 

[amberskyyking]

Great news Tech fam, its Bad Batch Day and I am still on my bullshit with no end in sight, so welcome to another installment of This Isn’t Over Till I Fucking Say So, our man is alive and loved and coming home and canon cannot stop meeee!!!!!!! 😈

Implications Of Being Alive

Chapter 6: Is This The Real Life (Is This Just Fantasy)?

***CW: Talk of decom/death, dehumanization, and past medical trauma***

CX-2 activated… or… or perhaps Tech awoke.

Because Echo was still here, still holding its hand, even. It distinctly remembered asking Echo to stay with him, and Echo had responded Of course, vod. Right now there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, exactly.

He had kept his word.

Omega was here again, too, just like Echo had said she would be. He could barely make out the bright yellow of her jacket and tuft of blonde hair without corrective eye lenses of some sort, but the soft snoring sounds from nearby alerted him to her presence, and when he squinted, he could tell it was her, slouched over in a chair with her mouth hanging open.

Tech must have woken up, which meant it was dreaming again. Not that it particularly minded. That meant it hadn’t been decommissioned yet. Besides, it had never been able to stop the dreams before, but they had usually been pleasant. It was still registering some residual pain, but it suspected that if it woke, that particular issue would become significantly more apparent.

For now, it would accept the glitches. They were allowing it him to see his family one last time, which was more than he deserved.

“Well, look who’s up,” Echo muttered softly. “How are you feeling, Tech?”

Tech considered the question a moment before responding.

“Improved,” he settled on. What lingering pain he was still experiencing paled in comparison to anything he had been subjected to earlier, though he couldn’t say that it was completely gone.

“That’s good to hear,” Echo replied with a warm grin. “You should be in a lot better shape now. Not every medic knows how to work with biomechanics, but I happen to know of a few good ones myself. We got you a few upgrades. Couple of your servos were fried and your prosthetic arm was practically slag after that explosion. Omega got some good hits in on you too, but they weren’t lethal. Thank the maker she was holding back,” He muttered the last part under his breath.

“I would have to agree,” Tech said, glancing back over to her sleeping form in the chair. Omega had shown significant improvement in form and strategy in their fight since he had seen her last. It was obvious that his brothers had continued her training, and with his own degrading body and mechanics, it seemed unlikely now that he could truly match her. “I would rather not be dead.”

Echo grinned a little at that, though something sad flickered behind his eyes as he did. “Yeah… We prefer you not dead too, vod.”

Tech wasn’t sure what to make of Echo’s expression, but he nodded, moving an arm to prop himself up a bit better but quickly became aware of something strange. The arm felt different. Despite Echo’s claims of his arm being practically slag, it was fully functional, but not at all familiar.

“Ah… We had to completely replaced that,” Echo said softly, noticing his apparent confusion. “Even if the old one wasn’t destroyed, it was pretty outdated. Then again, I’m one to talk.” He spun his scomp a couple times, making a small whirring sound with it, and chuckled softly. “It’s a good model though, I made sure of it. Comfortable interfacing. Customizable, too. I… Figure you’ll want to make some adjustments of your own, once we have you out of here.”

“That would be ideal,” Tech replied, lifting the new prosthetic close to his eyes to examine it. There were modifications he had made to his old one that would likely be missed, however, many of those had been due to necessity in order to prolong function. If this arm worked as intended already, duplicating what extra features he was missing wouldn’t take much effort. Perhaps there would even be room to install some experimental ones.

A sharp inhale from the corner chair pulled his attention from the arm and he twisted eagerly in the bed to face Omega.

“Mmm awake,” Omega yawned, blinking rapidly as she jerked upright in the chair. “Wha’d I miss, I… Tech!”

Tech gave her a small smile and a nod. “Hello, Omega.”

“How are you now?” She asked in a voice full of concern, practically tripping over herself to cross the room to his bedside. “Are you still hurting or is it better?”

“My pain levels have decreased significantly.”

“How’s the arm?”

“It will suffice. It merely needs some modifications to achieve maximum functionality. Nothing I cannot handle.”

“How’s your head?”

“I-”

“Slow down there, Omega,” Echo said soothingly. “Let’s not overwhelm him just yet.”

Omega nodded curtly and met Tech’s eyes. “Sorry.”

“No apology is needed,” Tech said wryly. “It is natural to be curious…”

But he trailed off as he spoke the words. Even for a dream, that was certainly not an approved sentiment. Then again, neither was cohorting with rebel insurgents, or wishing to postpone its own decommissioning. Tech’s brow furrowed in thought.

“I’m glad you still feel that way,” Echo said with just a hint of suspicion. “I… We… Do need to ask you a few, uh… Sensitive questions. We can take it slow, as long as you answer honestly.”

Tech hesitated a moment, but nodded.

“Alright,” Echo said uncomfortably. “We’re really glad to have you back, vod, but… You were clearly sent by the Empire to stop us. Probably to kill us. Including Omega,” Echo gestured to the girl with his scomp. “We need to know why.”

“And you can tell us, Tech,” Omega said earnestly. “It’s okay. We won’t judge you, and we aren’t going to let them hurt you anymore.”

Tech nodded cooperatively. There wasn’t any harm in telling them, considering none of this was even real, though he knew better to believe Omega’s promise that somehow these figments of his imagination could save him. “My orders were to locate and eliminate the rebels completing a munitions transfer on Terova led by Hera Syndulla or be terminated in the attempt,” He recited. “I… Failed. On both counts, apparently.”

“Good,” Echo said, his eyes flashing before he visibly attempted to calm himself.

Shock flickered on Omega’s face. “Yeah… They should never have asked that of you Tech, that’s… That’s wrong. But we weren’t even transferring munitions,” She said crossly. “It was relief aid. Just rations, and most of it was for refugees…”

“That… is not what my intel reported,” Tech mused.

“Well. That’s not surprising,” Echo said. “So they ordered you to kill a bunch of relief workers or die trying?”

“That is what I said,” Tech stated. Although, he had to admit, at least to himself, that when Echo put it that way, it did sound… Disturbing. Calling it as such may be considered treason, but at the least, the mission had been an ineffective use of available resources. Not that it was CX-2’s place to decide that or have an opinion on the matter. Colonel Bragg had to have her reasons.

“Then what is stopping you from trying to finish the job now?” Echo asked darkly.

Tech blinked up at him a couple of times, then at Omega, who seemed to be holding her breath. He shook head. There was nothing for them to worry about, not here.

“The mission is a failure,” Tech repeated himself. “I will be decommissioned shortly.”

“You won’t,” Echo said firmly, but Tech shook his head.

“It is, sadly, standard procedure. My tracker cannot be removed. When they locate my body, if it is still… Functioning,” He chose the word carefully, it was important to be accurate when articulating these sorts of things to avoid unnecessary confusion, “I will be-”

“They won’t find you,” Echo snarled, his face contorting into something dark and vicious, giving Tech pause. “Hemlock may have designed it so removing that thing would kill you, but I made damn sure that the Empire can’t use it to find you anymore. You’re safe, Tech.” He let out a short breathy sigh and ran a hand over his bald head. When he spoke next his voice sounded softer and a little bit choked. “I told you, we’re not letting them take you back. Ever. And I’m sorry we ever let them get to you in the first place…”

Omega put a gentle hand on Echo’s back as he took a moment, covering his eyes with his hand. “Is… Is that all?” She asked hopefully. “The orders are gone so you’re just… you… again?”

Tech looked between the pair of them in confusion and concern. “I… Do not believe it is that simple… Or particularly relevant, here.”

“He’s not the only one they’ve turned against us, ‘Mega,” Echo muttered. “He’s right… It’s never that simple.”

“We’ll figure it out together then,” Omega said firmly. “You’re not alone anymore, Tech.”

That… would be nice.

But it wasn’t really true, was it?

“Tech?” Omega said his name again quietly.

Tech raised his eyes to meet hers. They were golden and sparkling and lifelike, just like in his malfunctions memories, but… That’s all this was. It was all just memories, fragments of his past manifesting themselves with whatever synapses were still firing in its brain and sending it these strange signals, creating the comfortable medical room and the advanced new prosthetic arm and dulling its pain. Omega and Echo acted so much like themselves because that’s how it knew them, that’s how he recognized them, but it wasn’t them.

They weren’t here. He was still alone. And he it shouldn’t care about such things anyways, it wasn’t allowed to, it wasn’t really alive and it would be dead soon anyways so what did any of this matter?!

The realization shouldn’t make a lump form in its throat or the heart monitor go off either. It squinted its eyes shut and shrank back into the bed as the noise pulsed maddeningly overhead, willing it all to just go away.

“Easy there Tech,” It heard Echo’s voice from overhead, and the same as last time it felt a hand slip into its own as if to draw it back, but a sharp jolt cut through his insides as he did. Whatever they were looking for in him, their effort was wasted. There was nothing of him for them to fight for. Everything it used to be back when it had a family and a purpose had been scooped out and shredded, there was just a hole in its psyche where the malfunctions that remained could reverberate off empty walls, taunting it, like they were now. Its actions proved as much. If that family even still lived after years of opposing the Empire, if they ever saw what their brother had truly become, they would want nothing to do with it. Those people had been good and kind. They had fought for each other, taken difficult stances against impossible odds, been loyal to one another, held up situations to a set of morals rather than simply to orders and taken action to protect the innocent and vulnerable from exploiters throughout the galaxy, even when they themselves had struggled to survive.

And CX-2… CX-2 hadn’t been that way for ten years.

It had been helping to build the very Empire that imprisoned and tested on the Clone Troopers who won it the war. It had hunted down insurgents of all kinds without question, using its ruthless efficiency, tactical cunning and fighting prowess to kill countless people. Whether or not they were innocent never mattered. It knew several had been civilians and that never made a difference. If Omega was to be believed, even its latest mission had resulted in destruction and possibly even death solely to stop people from delivering food and medical supplies to compromised populations. Such a thing couldn’t even be justified as a threat to the Empire, if it was true, and CX-2 hadn’t bothered to determine whether or not it was.

It killed all those clones on Teth.

It cut off Crosshair’s hand and taunted him as it did.

It even tried on its final mission to execute Omega!

“Talk to us, Tech,” Omega’s voice spoke soothingly overhead, making its stomach twist into knots. “Can you tell us what you need? We just need to know, we can help.”

“You can’t,” CX-2 choked out bitterly.

“We can, and we will. Whatever you need, we love you-”

“You’re not real!”

The words left its mouth and the tension in its chest crumbled like wet flimsi. It hurt to acknowledge as much, but pretending this was anything other than what it was would only hurt worse when reality came crashing back.

“You’re not real… None of this is real,” It repeated. “You can’t help me or save me so stop - Stop saying that you can…”

Whichever one of them was holding its hand tightened their grip and it opened its eyes. Both of them wore matching expressions of horror and shock, but… But of course they did… The people in its memories would be upset to hear it talk like that…

Echo nodded demurely, and Omega’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she gulped hard and steeled her expression first. “So… what do you think is happening?” She asked, her voice wavering just a touch.

“All of this… It only exists in my mind. It’s a… A malfunction…”

“Uh huh,” She said, looking him fiercely in the eyes, though her voice somehow grew calmer. “So like a… A vision? A fantasy? dream?”

“It… It is more likely a dream…” It replied, wondering where this was going. A dream did sound more probable, given the circumstances. Its body ought to be unconscious back on Terova, whatever state it was in. Echo was giving Omega a miserable, quizzical look, but she didn’t break CX-2 Tech’s gaze.

“Okay. If it’s a dream, then… What happens when you wake up?”

Tech’s eyes went wide with fear. “I-”

“I don’t mean where are you going to wake up,” Omega said steadily. “Or what will happen to you. You don’t know if the Empire has found you yet. I mean what will you do? What choices will you make if you have the chance to make them?”

Tech opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. He… Wasn’t sure. It really depended on his circumstance, didn’t it? The question would be entirely useless if he woke up in the Empire’s clutches again, or if they decommissioned him before he woke up at all. He hadn’t considered the possibility that the Empire would delay looking for him, though, that he might have to choose how to proceed.

“I… Would return to Colonel Bragg,” It said slowly.

“Is that what you want to do?” Omega asked gently.

“No,” Tech responded without hesitation. “I want to stay here.”

His answer surprised him a bit, but then again, it was true. That was what he wanted, even if he wasn’t supposed to, even if it was impossible. Echo seemed slightly surprised as well, jerking his head up with wet cheeks and a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Omega gave him a small grin, but she alone seemed unfazed by the admission, and when she spoke her voice was still strong. “Do you want to see your brothers again, too?”

“I-” Tech started, but his voice caught in his throat as several questions tore through his mind like razors. He did, of course he did, that should be obvious, but - but were they still alive? Were they safe? Would his tracker attract the Empire to them if they were or had Echo really disabled it? After ten years would there even be room for an unexpected guest in their domicile, nonetheless after he blew up the ship that served as their last one? And did… Did they even want him back, after everything he had done?

“Tech,” Echo said, giving his hand another trembling squeeze. “They want to see you… They’ve missed you so badly. You… You have no idea.”

Tech took several breaths, parsing out everything he knew and turning those words over in his mind as if to analyze them. No matter which way he looked at them, though, it didn’t change his answer to Omega’s question. The heart monitor beeped a couple of times just before he opened his mouth to give his answer.

“I do want to see them,” He conceded, his eyes flickering between Omega and Echo in anticipation. “If that is true. That they… Want me back.”

There was something fragile in his voice when he said it, but Echo nodded warmly at him and lifted Tech’s hand in his own, touching both their knuckles to his cheek with a small sniffle. Omega’s face broke into a blinding smile, even as she finally blinked the tears from her eyes and hastily wiped them away with the edge of her sleeve.

“They do. I promise,” She said brightly. “I think the medics want to run just a couple more tests on you to make sure you’re healing well enough to travel, but as soon as that’s done, I can bring you home.”

---

Tech hadn’t been sure what to make of their conversation from before. Even as the medics returned to test his mobility, check his vitals, and attend to his surgical sites, the idea of going home seemed strangely surreal. If this were a dream it would make more sense to simply skip to that part rather than be subjected to these tests. For one awful moment, he had realized the possibility of his body being tested on in real life, all the cold pricks and sharp prods a mental manifestation of whatever final experiment Colonel Bragg was subjecting him to prior to his decommissioning. If that were the case he might not make it to his brothers again after all, he may run out of time, the world could go black and he may never see their faces!

The heart monitor went off again and Echo talked him through those particular fears, shooting impatient glares at the medics as Tech did his best to focus on Echo rather than his thoughts or all the unpleasant sensations, and suddenly it was over. Tech was vaguely aware of someone declaring him fit to be released, but Omega let out a cheer and helped him down from the bed, and then they were walking, Echo on one side and Omega on the other. The pair of them led him through ship halls that were far from imperial, passing people who Tech could too easily imagine having on the other end of his blaster. They reached the hangar and boarded a ship Tech knew he had just shot down, one that bore an uncanny resemblance to the Marauder in places, and yet it wasn’t. It couldn’t be… He had destroyed that ship ages ago, after dedicating so much of his own time and care into its maintenance and customization…

“Welcome back to the Havoc Zillo!” Omega said enthusiastically, gesturing around the inside of the ship with pride. “She’s fully functional again so don’t worry about a thing. The trip is a shorter one. Hope you still like varos flavored rations.”

Tech nodded, looking around the ship in a bit of a daze. A droid waddled towards him with frantic, familiar sounding gonk gonk’s.

“I know, Gonky!” Omega grinned. “He’s starting to do better, I’m excited too.”

The GNK droid stopped just short of colliding with Tech and leaned itself forward towards his hand. Tech obliged with a small, warm smile of his own, resting the mechanical arm on it’s oversized top, and it let out a series of soft gngngngngngnk’s.

“Aww. He remembers you,” Echo crooned.

“Droids memory banks are not like sentients. Their data recall is significantly-”

“Oh I know, Tech,” Echo chuckled. “It’s still sweet.”

Omega had skipped her way to the cockpit already and the outer door hissed shut behind them. For a moment Tech grasped at the nearest console to steady himself as she prepared for takeoff, but he barely felt the lurch as they left the ground and the ship left the hangar behind.

She had learned well, after all.

For a second, Tech gazed at the blur that was the back of her head down the hall, considering it. This was a dream, it had to be, but… This Omega was older than in his memories, no longer the naive adolescent female who chose to sit with them in the cafeteria and picked a food fight in their defense. Granted, she had grown beyond that well before his time with the Empire, but this was something else entirely. Even if what he was seeing now wasn’t real… He hoped that the young girl he knew back then had gotten the chance to grow into someone like this. His brothers deserved the chance to raise her this way, even if he never got to see it.

Then, his eyes slid just past her, to a place on the console where a blurry object sat, glinting against the black expanse of space in the viewport behind it.

“Those are yours,” Echo said softly at his side. “Do you want to see them?”

Tech wasn’t quite sure what to say, he couldn't even see what the object was with his poor quality eyesight, but the statement made curiosity flare up inside him, and he nodded. Echo got up and crossed over to the cockpit, whispering a couple of things to Omega before taking the little item in his one hand and returning.

Echo held them out, and Tech recognized them at once.

“My goggles,” Tech said in astoundment, taking them gingerly in his hands. He had seen them before in the memories but they really did feel familiar in his hands now, too. Both the lenses were shattered and one was missing several chunks, they wouldn’t function without significant repairs but… But they were his.

Nothing had been his in years. It shouldn’t matter, he knew it in his head, but somehow it did. This should be a dream but the familiarity of something that was his own in his hands just felt so real, and if this was real…

Through the gap in the hall Tech saw as the color outside the cockpit changed from pitch black to fuzzy streaks of blue as Omega put the ship into hyperspace, and his breath caught in his throat.

“You should know,” Echo said under his breath, “Even if you weren’t there… She never flew without you.”

He nodded at Echo’s words, unable to speak, and held the goggles close to his chest, just in case they were real.

Link to the full story written in full fledged domicile angst here: Implications Of Being Alive

Please scream in my comments or something, I live for validation I guess, it’s fine 🫠❤️

Oh and I guess I should do a tag list for this, maybe? If that’s wanted? Lemme know if I should and if you wanna be on it!!!

[tobiasdrake]

How strong do you think Nam, King Chappa and Bora were at the beginning of Z, assuming they each continued training throughout that entire time period? How would their ‘beginning of Z’ selves fare at the 22nd or 23rd tournaments, in your view?

Probably not much different.

It can safely be assumed Chapa is beyond human limits. I say that because Roshi draws the "Human limits" line around Pamput.

This guy lasts five seconds in the ring with Goku.

This bout kinda seems like space-filler at first glance, but instead it serves the role of providing a yardstick. Pamput is an exceptional martial artist and top-tier of what fighters are capable of... within human limits. He's basically Mr. Satan.

Our characters broke those limits a long time ago and left human ability a long way back.

Chapa gave Goku more of a fight, however, and his signature technique Hasshuken/Eight-Armed Fist is based on moving your arms at such tremendous speech that it forms the illusion of having eight of them.

So I feel confident saying that Chapa is beyond human limits. He's still no match for Goku but that's not exactly a mark of shame. Goku's fucking tough.

Namu also puts up a much better fight against Goku than Pamput, but that was three years earlier so it's not as fair of a comparison. The Goku he fought hadn't even learned how to anticipate his opponents yet.

Still, a man who can jump this high for his signature move is probably beyond human limits, I think.

My dude leaps like forty feet straight up and then lets gravity be his weapon. He comes down face first even.

Then again, Pamput can do this with an elbow strike.

So that jump might still be within human limits. I don't know. As for Bora....

Yeah, that seems beyond human limits. I'd call that conclusive.

In any case, these are all tough guys. But I don't see them going much farther than they are now. I can see them getting stronger, but on their scale, if that makes sense.

In fact, we see Chapa again at the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai and get an idea of how his improvement compares to Goku's.

This time, there's barely even a pretense of a fight. Goku wastes him like Pamput.

Even if Chapa, Namu, and Bora were to continue their training, they would need to pursue higher forms of training to grow beyond where they are. That would mean studying martial arts that explore the concept of ki, which is relatively obscure in martial arts spaces; It's really just the Kame-senryu and Tsuru-senryu that comprehend this advanced concept.

Namu has his village to concern himself with; He was only at the Tenkaichi Budokai to get water for his people. He clearly practiced martial arts in his spare time before all this - The Tenkaichi Budokai is not an entry-level competition, despite the experiences of the Kame-senryu prodigy children. However, he's not seeking to become the #1 greatest martial artist in the world.

Chapa seems pretty set in his ways. He's an older man convinced of his mastery. I don't expect him to start looking for new avenues to learn from.

Out of the three, Bora is the one I'd see with the most potential for improvement. He has a sacred duty to guard the base of Karin Tower.

Now that he's seen someone make the climb successfully, he might take that as motivation to give it another go. Though probably not until Upa's older and can defend the Sacred Land himself.

But ultimately, I don't see any of these guys reaching same heights as Krillin, Yamcha, and Tenshinhan. Namu and Bora don't have the spare time to travel the globe on a journey of greater martial arts mastery and study advanced ki manipulation, or to ascend to the heavens and meet gods who will offer them further training.

Chapa does. But I don't think he wants to.

[sk8termikey]

Chapter 9 of 21 Questions

better interface on wattpad

Lily loml🌻

Bro

The triplets 1st podcast is today

I’m so excited

It seemed awesome already from the trailer last week

I knooow

Kinda mad if it's every monday bc it’s my closing day

Sucks to be you

I love my day off even more now💃🏻💃🏻

Jk i’ll wait for you to watch it tonight like you do for the other vids

Thanks bestie😞

<33

Also the fact they’re gonna have guests is really cool

I really can’t wait to watch the first one

I know they probs have a few episodes recorded

But i hope it won’t be too much work for them now

Ye

3 vids a week

Esp nick who has to edit

Nick our king >>

Fact

Btw i might be home a bit earlier bc the café is kinda dead rn

Just the old couple that comes weekly and they’re almost done

So you won't wait much for me to watch the podcast

Yayy

The one together for 50 years?

I love those old ladies, they’re so cute

Fr and they always leave a huge tip

We don’t deserve them😞

Anyways see you in an hour or so ig

See you soon🫶🏻

When Alex put her phone back in her pocket, the “old ladies” as described by Lily were getting ready to leave. When they reached the counter, they both gave the blonde a sweet smile as one of them pulled out a bill from her wallet.

“The chocolate cake was delicious as always, but did you guys change anything?” One of the ladies asked.

“Yeah Lily did!” Alex knew that her friend would be excited to know that someone had noticed. “She tried adding some chocolate shavings before putting the cake in the oven.”

“Now I’m going to have a hard time deciding which one I like most, but it was as good as the usual recipe. You'll tell her that it reminds me of how my mum would make it”.

Alex couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. The couple had never once been rude to her and her other coworkers when they would come. Lily was always glad when they would compliment her food and it helped improve her self-confidence as chocolate desserts were basically the only thing Lily had mastered. Alex was really happy that she would be able to pass on the message to her friend.

Alex was finally able to close the café after the happy couple left and because the day had been a slow one, she had had time to clean little by little so that she didn’t have much left to do now.

~~~

When Alex arrived home, Lily was waiting for her on the couch. The TV was already set up on the Cut the Camera YouTube channel and some snacks were waiting for the two girls on the table. Alex told Lily to start the podcast as she would just be grabbing a can of Dr. Pepper in the fridge. As Lily did so and clicked on the video, the first out of many “Good morning Campers” from Nick Sturniolo could be heard in the house.

The podcast first started with Nick, Matt and Chris talking about looking alike, which is something that never bothered them much as they know that their viewers are easily able to differentiate them – even Lily could do it without problem by now.

As they then mentioned the fact that some pairs of best friends sometimes looked more alike than them, Lily and Alex exchanged a quick glance before laughing. Even though they had been friends since middle school, they had barely anything in common regarding their physical appearance.

The podcast kept dwelling on growing up as triplets, regarding the impact it could have on their friends but also the annoying comments they would always get from people. However, as they were mostly talking about the negative outcomes, they decided to start listing the positive aspects of growing up with two other people. Nick, Matt and Chris all agreed that being a triplet was the same as having built-in friends who were here for you at all times.

A couple of minutes later, Chris highlighted the support he always felt from his brothers and that the three of them being on the same page is something they all feel lucky about.

Then, as the topic of constant comparison was being tackled, Lily and Alex were quietly listening. The two girls felt very close to the triplets in the way that they were learning about their struggles. Them being so open about it was an opportunity to understand how the Life as Triplets was. What hit the hardest was the moment when Matt summarised the small conversation by explaining that no matter if it's about similarities or differences, people still find a way to compare them.

The podcast eventually finished on a more light-hearted tone as Nick, Matt and Chris were laughing about their high school experience when someone would meet one of them without knowing that they were a triplet. This would lead to them pretending to be one another just for a two seconds conversation in the hallways – and then at the end of the day, debriefing who came up to talk to each of them.

“I just loved it so much, oh my god!” Alex exclaimed as the video ended.

“Me too, like– I absolutely adore the Wednesday and Friday videos but this type of content is so refreshing I don't know”, Lily agreed with her friend. “I feel closer to them, make it make sense I guess”.

“I get you don’t worry, I know we’re gonna have another perspective of their lives and they’re gonna enjoy giving it to us as much as we’re gonna enjoy learning about it.”

“Exactly like…” Lily thought for a few seconds, “an inside point of view of not only the Sturniolo Triplets but simply Nick, Matt and Chris as people, just individuals. This is what they're trying to make people realise, they're not only triplets – even though that's a bit of their brand I guess – but they are also their own person.”

The two girls were just really excited to see more of this new project from the triplets, although Alex had to share some semi bad news:

“However, I have no idea if I’ll have the motivation to watch an hour of podcast every Monday when I come home from work”.

“Oh yeah, I understand”. Lily put a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder while trying to find a solution. “Just pick a day and we’ll catch up at that time!”

“I mean, I might not even watch it weekly if I’m honest so– I won’t mind and it might actually be best that you watch them whenever you want like when they come out if that’s what you prefer and I’ll postpone my ‘watch podcast sessions’ until I have enough attention span to listen to them for a whole hour”, Alex explained.

“If that’s okay with you yeah I’m fine with that”, Lily let out a smile. “We’ll still have to discuss it obviously”.

“Of course”, Alex immediately agreed. “Lots of new info we’ll have to talk about!”

What they didn’t know yet is that watching the next podcasts on their own would finally enable Lily to choose her favourite triplet as she would realise that one of them might be a bit too relatable for her taste, and maybe a tiny bit too attractive on camera.

Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated if you like this story :) The story is co-written w @/little_grapejuice on wattpad

[sovonight]

desire | xan/radri, bg1 | ao3

—✧✧✧—

some context (set after the following fic, but still context)

contains the lightest brush of sexual content known to man

—

Xan's gentle fingers work through Radri's hair, smoothing the last of her tangled strands. A final wash of warm water follows, streaming down her tresses and over the curves of her bare shoulders, leaving them clean.

"There," Xan says, and kisses the top of her shoulder, "It is done."

The bath sits to their right, filled with warm water from which rises a pleasant fog of steam. It's large enough to hold the two of them side by side; Xan allows her to enter first, then follows. Sinking into the warm water beside her, Xan tips his head back against the rim of the tub with a content sigh.

With the damp strands of his hair pulled back from his face, Radri can see his profile in its entirety; his eyes are closed, and the corners of his lips rest neutrally, casting an ambiguous light upon his expression, but she can reach inside her heart and know: in this moment, he's at peace.

Xan opens his eyes, glancing at her.

"You're smiling," he says.

Radri finds that she is. Rather than hide it, she lets it stay on her lips; she's happy, and she wants him to see.

"I was just thinking," Radri says. "Mere days ago, we were in the ruins of the old city, preparing to face Sarevok."

"And now we are here, granted a room in the Ducal Palace," Xan follows for her. "Truly, for all the outcomes I imagine for us, I can never predict the one that you will lead us to."

"I've never stayed anyplace like this. Even this bath is so… lavish," Radri says. The ceilings seem to rise so high above her; she wonders how they fit all these rooms into the height of the building. Beside her, Xan sighs.

"It is still nothing compared to what I could show you in Evereska," Xan says. "In the baths, the water is heated to the perfect warmth, and leaves the skin feeling soft. The air is scented, sweet and inoffensive, and strings of green leaves tumble down the pillars…"

"The baths?" Radri asks, both interested and amused, for she will never tire of his constant comparisons to Evereska, "You've never shown them to me."

At that, Xan gives her a sidelong look and a raised brow.

"I think you forget a crucial element of my memories," Xan says, "Namely, my own self's presence in them, at the time of the event."

"If it's about your state of dress, you're already unclothed now," Radri says.

"Of course, now," Xan says, "But to have shown you earlier, I would have…"

There's a slight furrow in his brow, now; she wishes to smooth it again, so in the middle of his words, Radri leaves a kiss upon his bare shoulder. His train of thought stops.

"Radri…?" Xan says, and since it's within her reach, she leans up to kiss the tip of his ear.

To her surprise, Xan does not voice her name again, or ask what she's doing; he's grown still, and the slightest flush has begun to develop in his cheeks, spreading there from the tips of his ears that she had so easily shown her affection to. Beholding him now, something stirs in her heart, and Radri folds ripples into the water between them to leave another kiss, this time on the line of his jaw.

But as she draws away, Xan sways in to follow, and meets her lips with his own. Warm, soft… his kiss coaxes her lips open, and she accepts, letting herself melt into his lead. In the background, she notes distantly the sound of droplets meeting the water, and connects it to the rising of Xan's hand, which has come to the base of her head, tangled in her damp hair, holding her to him. Still, there's space between their hearts that she could lessen, so she does her part to reduce the distance, drawing closer to him until she has met his chest with her own. He accepts her with a welcoming hand at the small of her back, and Radri finds her head tipped back against the rim of the bathtub, until at last Xan pulls his kiss away.

"Estel'amin," Xan whispers, and Radri opens her eyes, meeting his gaze. She dips into their bond, and finds love; a trace of disbelief, even after all this time; and something else, foreign to her. Focusing in on their love, Radri smiles up at him.

"I love you," she says, and tilts her head up, meaning to kiss him again—but Xan turns, letting her catch only the corner of his lips, instead.

"Not yet," Xan says, managing the words with an uncharacteristic amount of difficulty. "Have… have you had your fill of the bath? Shall we go to bed, then?"

"Not really," Radri says to his first query, and to his second, "Are you tired already?"

She had felt nothing like that from him, and indeed to her eye he appears fully awake and aware. The budding blush of earlier has deepened, casting an obvious wash of pink across his features; it's a sight that she so rarely gets to see that she's loathe to abandon it now.

"I see," Xan says, sounding like a man who's been sentenced—perhaps not to death, but to something approaching it. "Then let us stay a moment longer." He returns to his place beside her, though a strange caution is laced through his movements. Worried, she turns to face him.

"You don't have to stay," Radri says, though again she can find nothing through their bond that suggests he's in pain, emotional or otherwise. "I'll miss the look on your face, but I can find it again in reverie."

"Really?" Xan asks, "And how do I look, to you?"

"Endearing. So very endearing," Radri says, and admits, "It makes me want to hold you close and kiss you again."

Xan sighs; though she can feel that he's flattered, there's an undercurrent of regret there, too.

"It will have to wait, I'm afraid," Xan says, "I am not quite ready, yet."

His pink cheeks… his closed expression. All of a sudden, Radri understands.

"Oh," she says, her face reddening almost as much as his has, "Oh. Was it—that I—?"

"You have given me a gift, Estel'amin," Xan says, "It is one thing to commit the curves of your body to memory, but it is another entirely to know how it feels to hold you against my skin… and I must stop there."

"Must you?" Radri asks, and only when Xan stares at her does she realize, mortified, that she's voiced the words aloud.

"You… have no matching desire to continue," Xan says, stating the obvious with a trace of uncertainty, as though wondering if she had in the span of a conversation been abducted and replaced by a doppelgänger, "And I would not have you push yourself for my sake."

It's true; he can feel her heart as clearly as she feels his, and the extent of her desires have not changed.

"No, but I…" A part of her craves the look on his face; there's something so satisfying in his yearning, his longing, his flushed features, his desperation… "I want to see you."

Xan says nothing, and Radri burns, staring into her reflection in the water, too afraid to see what expression he might be wearing after hearing her words. But the bond cares not for her fear; she knows what his answer will be before he even says it.

"Then let us move to the bed."

—

Xan has donned one of the robes by the bath, and wrapped it closed around his body, even though they'll only be unwrapping it, she imagines, once they begin. Besides the robes, he's otherwise unclothed, and though she could have changed into her usual lounging attire after toweling off, Radri has chosen to match him.

She finds herself arriving at the bed first, and takes a seat by her pillow, her legs folded to one side beneath her. Xan is slower to join her, and she's given the chance to observe the way the silken robes hang from his body; despite having fastened them properly around his waist, one of the sides has already begun to fall away, revealing a generous glimpse of his chest. Radri finds her face growing warm again, and glances away as the bed dips, marking his arrival.

"Still so shy," Xan says, fond. His hand rises to caress her cheek, coaxing her gaze back towards his. "The sight is yours, and was yours not five minutes ago."

"W—well," Radri says, "You hid it away again. And…."

And we haven't done this before, she thinks. Knowing what she's asked of him, what they are here to do, everything feels different. Despite having no vision into her thoughts, Xan seems to understand what she's left unsaid, and gives her a soft smile.

"I only thought that you might enjoy undressing me," Xan says. "Or would you rather that I do it myself?"

Un… undressing him…. Before her conscious thoughts have even managed to turn this concept over in her mind, her fingers have risen to the smooth fabric, betraying her desire. Xan's smile grows, and he takes her hesitant fingertips, raising them to his lips.

"You can touch me, Estel'amin," he says, and kisses them; elation runs from his lips to her heart, and she feels as though he has sealed both his permission and unspoken request into her body. Xan guides her hand to his cheek, leaving her fingers draped along the side of his face and his jaw, then waits with patient eyes.

Her heartbeat is in her ears again. Xan's skin is soft, and as Radri drags her fingers down the column of his neck, she observes the new prominence of his every breath, every minute tensing of muscle, and every beat of his heart, pulsing against her fingertips. Her touch arrives at the hollow of his throat, and here she finally pulls her gaze away from the subtleties that had so mesmerized her, and looks to the task ahead: freeing him from the confines of his attire.

Her fingers slip beneath the neckline of his robes, dragging it aside. As the fabric slides away, revealing the pale skin of his bare shoulder, a slight shiver runs through him, felt by her in turn through her fingertips. Feeling endeared, Radri leaves a spontaneous kiss in the space between his neck and shoulder.

"Estel'amin," Xan sighs; her name brushes against the side of her neck, and she feels him leave a kiss upon her hair. She had had a vision—the robes, pooled around his waist, with only the tie left to undo—but it is far less important to her now than hearing him, feeling him, sigh against her again.

"Tahlimil," Radri whispers to him, "Will you kiss me?"

His hands find the curve of her waist, the back of her neck, and draw her to him; Radri raises her lips to his, and lets him fall into her. Whispered words escape him between kisses, words in elvish of love, beauty, and gratitude, which melt sweetly into her heart. Her confidence bolstered, she continues her hand's journey from his bare shoulder, pushing the sleeve down his arm; reading her intent, Xan relinquishes his hold on her waist to let the sleeve fall away. Left without this anchor, the smooth, silken fabric slips free of his shoulders entirely, leaving his chest bare.

"Estel'amin," Xan sighs again against her, and pulls away; she wonders for an instant if she's done something wrong, but when his gaze finds hers, there is nothing but love and longing in his eyes. "May I?"

His fingers rest along the neckline of her own robes, just short of teasing beneath it; he wishes to undress her, too. A sudden sensation of vulnerability descends upon her, coupled with a renewed flush on her cheeks; she's nervous, but with anticipation.

"Please," Radri says, internally glad now that she had decided to don a robe as well. She expects him to slip it off her shoulders as she had done for him, but his fingers slide just beneath the hem and slip slowly down, following the neckline's steep descent towards her waist. She had not tied her robes very securely in her nervousness and haste, so it takes only a single, deft pull to undo her knot, and then her robes hang freely, framing a bare strip of skin down the center of her body. Even more is revealed in shadow: while the robes follow the slope of her breasts, it only does so until their apex; beholden to gravity, they leave no coverage for the skin beneath. Xan has already seen her; Radri reminds herself of this, and yet she remains shy beneath his gaze.

"Will you look at me?" Xan asks. Only then does she raise her eyes to his. The flush in his cheeks has deepened; his eyes have grown dark, and seem to be set upon her with the intent of drinking her in. His fingers, still holding the tie of her robes, now release it to reach out to her skin—only to stop short, hesitating. She'd wanted to see him, to touch him; she's given him no similar permission.

"You can," Radri finds herself saying in a near breathless whisper, "If… If you wish… you can touch me, too." In the wake of Xan's hesitant silence, she guides his trembling hand to her skin, letting one side of her robes slip off her shoulder as she pulls his touch to the curve of her waist—then, in a slow drag, she guides his hand up. His palm finds the tender swell of her breast, and here, his silence breaks; he releases a low, breathy rendition of her name. Xan kisses her, and in doing so he leans her back—back, against the pillows. Lowering his head, his lips find her neck, and his soft hair pools upon her skin; Radri releases a breathy laugh at the way it tickles her jaw, and feels him smile against her.

"I love you," Xan whispers there, and trails his lips down to leave a kiss upon her heart, "My Radri, Estel'amin."

The points of his nails ghost over her tender skin as he explores her. His fingers find the bud of her nipple, and her breath hitches; Xan stops, raising his head to meet her eye, and flushed, Radri gives him a nod. Though she half expects him to lower his head again, he doesn't; Xan's eyes remain locked on hers as his fingers begin their gentle massage, and his other hand travels up from her hip to slide beneath the fabric upon her other breast. His touch is hot, releasing rare sparks of pleasure from her, and Radri can't help but squirm beneath him, her back arching for his attentions. Watching this, he smiles.

"Xan," Radri breathes, her hand grasping his shoulder, "I—Ignore me. Let me feel you."

She feels in their bond his quick acquiescence, but in practice, he takes his time; Xan drops his head to her lips, kissing her leisurely, before he parts to give her a loving, almost dazed look.

"I cannot ignore you," Xan says, "Your body so inspires and invigorates the mind…"

His fingertips trail down the curve of her body, from her breast, to her stomach, to her hips, leaving an excess heat in the wake of his touch that all seems to rise into her flushed cheeks.

"It—it's not much," Radri finds herself stammering, embarrassed. Is this what he thought, too, when he saw her the first time? "I… I know, it's…"

"Beautiful," Xan says, and kisses her neck again, "For it is your body, and you are so, so beautiful…."

"Xan," she says, "T—Tahlimil. I… I—"

And her breath catches, feeling something hard press against her inner thigh, through the silken fabric of Xan's half-donned robes. When she slides her thigh against his length, his hips twitch forward in response, seeking her friction and warmth—and when she looks up into his eyes, Xan's boldness has faded, overtaken by embarrassment.

"Estel'amin," Xan says, with some difficulty, "I cannot kiss you to your heart's content if you indulge in my pleasure."

The look on his face is completely new to her, avoidant and almost shy. Though a part of her is satisfied to see it, the rest wonders if she's pushed him with her request, after all.

"Would you rather that I not?" She asks.

"It… it is not a question of rather, but of your wishes."

"But what about yours?" Radri asks, worried now. "Did—did you perhaps wish that I not ask for this after all?"

"I only wonder how much pleasure you could derive from the experience," Xan says. "It is a simple event, and brief—and no doubt made briefer by your presence before me."

"But you would enjoy it?"

"I would," he admits, ever honest with her.

"Then I want to," Radri says. "Will you let me?"

After a long, long gaze, Xan only nods; and while the bond, as well, communicates this simple acceptance, beneath it lies a hidden depth: a roiling wave of yearning, love, and want. Radri sighs internally with relief; she has not pushed him too far.

"Would you lie back for me?" Radri asks. Xan complies, lying easily back against the pillows, and as she sits up to trade positions with him, Radri finds herself with another opportunity to observe the full length of his body. His musculature creates such sharp and delicate shadows; they draw lines down the column of his throat, shift upon his chest with the rise and fall of his even breaths, and then descend into the folds of his still-fastened robes, the tie of which lays low upon his waist. Though the robes do their part to hide the bare skin of his hips, they cannot conceal the presence of his arousal, which has already tented the fabric.

Radri finds herself staring, for a moment, at the way his breath moves through his chest, his stomach, and even, ever so slightly, bobs the tip of his arousal. Then she runs her gaze back up to his face, where his eyes meet hers with less of the heat of earlier, and more cool calm. Xan's desires are still apparent in their bond, but the wave that she had felt earlier has fallen still, blanketed by a layer of nervousness. Radri realizes then, too, that Xan has fallen quiet.

"Will you talk to me?" Radri asks. Xan looks at her with a trace of confusion.

"Now?" He asks, "About what?"

"Anything. I miss the sound of your voice," Radri says.

Xan raises a brow, his nervousness now layered with amusement.

"I must admit, few have ever told me that before," he says, "And none so sincerely. What shall I talk about? My love for you? The taste of your lips? The feel of your body against mine?"

Her blush returns to her face, ignited again in full force; through their bond, Radri feels a bloom of satisfaction from him, given form by the slight smile on his lips.

"N—none of that," Radri stammers, and his satisfaction only deepens, "Perhaps—I wish to know, how you… pleasure yourself."

There are moments when she feels his love for her and his pleasure intertwine, and crescendo into a release—but it is a secret kept for when he is apart from her, concealed from her attention by occurring only when she should already be deep in reverie.

"I want you to guide me… I want to feel you gasp, against me," Radri confesses, "And I want to look into your eyes as you do."

Xan stares into her eyes, and must have searched their bond, for he appears astonished to have found her wants sincere.

"Shall I tell you what I imagine, then, in those moments?" Xan says. "You are there. You are always there…"

He reaches for her in a wordless request, and she lowers her head to his, meeting him in a kiss.

"You kiss me," Xan whispers, against her lips. "Your hand rests against my chest. I cannot feel the touch of your fingers through the layers of my robes, only their weight and warmth…"

She places her hand upon his chest, and he takes it, dragging it higher, to rest where it had in his thoughts. His other hand buries itself in her hair, curving along the base of her head to pull her into another kiss; the leisurely pace of before is gone now, and he seems… almost desperate.

"It is our last meeting," Xan says. "I must go—or you must—and this is your last, sweet gift farewell. I dare not hold you too tightly, but you slide your arms up across my shoulders, and press the length of your body to mine…"

She does as he describes, returning them to the sensation she had felt only briefly earlier in the bath, of her bare skin against his; a slight pleasure sparks as her breasts, her nipples still firm and sensitive from his earlier attentions, press against his chest. Her thigh slips between his, sliding once more against the firmness of his length. Instinctively, his hips buck up against her, and she feels the fabric begin to slip.

"Not yet," Xan gasps against her, stilling his hips, "Estel'amin…"

"You have me in your arms," Radri murmurs to him, "What next?"

"Your body, your lips… they are intoxicating," Xan says. "My arousal grows, but I cannot yet bear to let you go, and can only pray that you do not notice. You whisper so sweetly that you love me… you promise that we will see each other again."

"We will," Radri whispers, and kisses him again, "We will. I love you, Tahlimil… we will always find our way back to each other."

"Then, you feel it… my distraction… my shame. I have so narrowly failed to conceal it from you. I would never ask… and yet you offer."

Heart beating faster now, her hand slips from his shoulder, trailing slowly down his side to find his still-clothed hips. His hand, trembling, comes to rest over hers.

"You feel me," Xan says. "You drag your hand along my length… and despite the fabric between us, I imagine that I can feel your skin upon mine…"

She thinks that his hand will guide hers, but Xan seems too drenched in anticipation, so Radri sends her touch lower herself, approaching the hardness still pressed against her thigh. Her fingers drag along his length; the fabric is thin enough that she can feel the contours of his arousal underneath. Xan has now tensed against her, determined to hold his hips still, but when her thumb smooths over his tip, he releases a shaky breath and thrusts up into her hand.

"Estel'amin," he sighs, "Your… your touch, is so different from mine…"

Radri smiles, and dips into their bond again; the nervousness of earlier has long since disappeared.

"I have felt you through your robes," she reminds him of his place in this story, "Now, do I undress you?"

"Yes," Xan sighs again, the 's' held into his exhale. His eyes have fallen closed, and he's begun to rock into the soft friction of her thigh.

"How is it that I undress you?" Radri asks, content to watch him.

"It does not matter," Xan says. "There are always too many layers to contend with… they are gone."

"Mm," she murmurs in acknowledgement, and abandons his arousal for a moment to undo the tie at his waist. With the smooth texture of the fabric, and all his movement, the knot has already been loosened and comes free with ease. The robes slip away from his hips, at last, and his body is left bare.

She cannot see his length from here; she would have to pull away from him, and she's loathe to abandon the contact between their bodies, the way his every breath can be felt against her. But she can feel it anew, and as her fingers stroke up to his tip again, she finds that a small amount of fluid has welled there; she draws a lazy circle there with her thumb, and he releases a soft moan against her.

"You are undressed," Radri murmurs. "And now?"

"Now you wrap your fingers around me," Xan says, breathily, "As you build my pleasure, you bring your lips to mine, and you kiss me… You have me promise, that…"

She wraps her fingers around his length, and Xan abandons his words in an exhale of pleasure; Radri kisses him, capturing the end of the sound. Other such sounds follow as she drags her hand up and down his length in cadent strokes, sinking into their bond to read the waves of his pleasure. His gasps, of her name, of yes, of please, are like a melody to her ears, sweeter than his early morning aubade. The rocking of his hips, which had been in time with her hand's movements, now begins to grow desperate.

"Tahlimil," she whispers, and kisses the corner of his lips so that she might not silence his voice, "What do you promise me?"

He is lost, almost lost—but not so far that he can't follow one last direction from his beloved.

"That I'm yours," Xan breathes, "Yours, only yours."

Through their bond, which had until now been overwhelmed by his pleasure, Radri feels a tug of need—for her acceptance, her approval, her love.

"You are mine," she promises, and kisses him; she feels him push into her hand, and his body arch into hers, as his climax washes over him. His lips grow slack against hers as all tension leaves him, and he sinks into the pillows, utterly spent.

Radri gazes at his half-lidded eyes, and the neutral line of his lips, so red and bruised with kisses. If she looks into their bond, she knows she will find his contentment.

"Did this please you?" Xan asks, when he has found his voice again. Radri smiles.

"It did," she says. Xan sighs in relief, and with a murmured spell, her hand is cleaned of his come.

"Well, I hope you have no other plans for the evening," he says, "For I would now like nothing more than to fall into reverie."

"Can I join you?" Radri asks.

"Still you ask, after all we have shared," Xan says, with drowsy amusement. "When would I ever desire to refuse you?"

Personally, she can think of quite a few scenarios in which he might refuse. As if he'd had a clear view into her thoughts, his lips quirk up into a partial smile.

"I have nothing to conceal from you. You have already seen me at my most desperate… my most undignified," Xan says, and takes her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Tell me, Estel'amin… What might you wish for us to share tonight?"

And though she is tempted to ask for his original fantasy, she feels that what he had just led her through has already surpassed it. Radri curls up beside him, holds their joined hands to her heart, and asks to see those elusive, Evereskan baths.

—

? after

full xan/radri compilation

[snippychicke]

For the Sake of a Smile (V.2) Chapter Fourteen

Title: For the Sake of a Smile (Revised)

Overall Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter Rating: M for Mature. We've begun the 18+ content

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond the child abuse hinted in the series, though we do explore the consequences a bit more.

Main Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen in your life. And the fact your coworker was a child. 

A child named Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but yet he smiled despite everything. It wasn’t long after meeting him that you decided you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a literal demon and signing your soul away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| Mairimashitai! Simps Discord

When you returned home later that evening, you were confronted by three very inquisitive beings; two of which (Sullivan and Iruma) could barely keep their grins contained. 

It seemed the grapevine of Babyls was as alive and healthy as always. 

"Can I help you three?" You asked the trio, deciding to be a little impish yourself and not just spill the news without teasing them a little. 

"We heard something interesting happened in the Library today," Sullivan started. "Would you mind sharing?"

"Well, that shipment of books on advanced torture theory arrived," You said. "Marbas was excited about that. He was wanting to show one of his classes some tactic that they used several hundred years ago. And speaking of tactics, Ipos decided to use war tactics by sending a bunch of first years to raid…"

"They meant between you and Shichiro," Opera interrupted as Sullivan and Iruma's expressions fell. "Something about my kohai tying you up in front of the Seduction instructor?”

Your impish attitude disappeared as quick as the blush appeared on your cheeks. "It wasn’t like that," You defended, though now the idea has been seeded in your mind and refused to completely disappear no matter how hard you tried.

"And the cute little bracelet you have on your wrist?" Sullivan hummed a bit too innocently. "I don't recall seeing it there earlier today." 

You sighed in defeat. "Yes, alright. Bal--Shichiro-- asked if he could court me, and I agreed." 

Sullivan and Iruma cheered as they tackled you in a hug, while Opera looked rather pleased like a cat who had caught their prey. 

And for the moment, you wondered if everything would be okay.

--+--

Balam -- no, Shichiro -- kissed along your neck, his fingers trailing along your upper thighs beneath your skirt.

"So beautiful," He praised as you whined slightly, your body feeling like it was on fire from the way he was taking his time. As if he wanted to taste every inch of exposed flesh, touch and memorize the soft curve of your legs up into hips, while torturously ignoring your innermost parts. "My precious human. My most precious…." 

"Please," You begged as you shifted your hips, "Please, Balam. I-I need…"

He nipped your collarbone with his fangs, the large dull points pressing into you without piercing your skin. "Tell me." He commanded softly as he tended to the bruised flesh with both his tongue and lips. "Tell me what you need." 

"You," You answered, bravely guiding his hand towards the apex of your thighs. "I need you here." 

He palmed your groin, reminding you just how big his hand was in comparison. He rubbed gently, making you gasp at the jolt of pleasure. Your fingers dug into his shoulders and his hair, pulling slightly on his silvery-white hair. 

Shichiro groaned, though you weren't sure if it was you tugging his hair or the fact his index finger slipped easily between your folds, finding your entrance almost instantly. 

--+--

You woke just as dream-Shichiro's fingers entered you, making you gasp and whine when you realized you were alone in your bed, pre-dawn light sneaking through the sheer curtains. 

The small positive was the faint weight of the vines encircled around your wrist, assuring you that not everything had been a dream. 

Yesterday had been such a whirlwind you were still shaken and confused by parts of it, but the bracelet was grounding. You had admitted your feelings to Balam --Shichiro -- and he returned them. His kisses had been real back in his prep room. You could remember his touch and weight as he laid against you on the floor, almost as desperate as you. 

Your hand trailed underneath the blankets as you glanced at the clock. There was plenty of time yet, and you definitely couldn't go to work like this. 

Shortly afterwards, you weren't sure if it was the pent up emotions, memory and imagination now intertwined, or the way the bracelet rubbed against you that made you nearly scream as you came. 

--+--

Your head was in the clouds later in the day, feeling better than you had in quite a while, though you had a feeling it was just a small reprieve. That the small dark voice in the back of your head was just waiting to start whispering its truths once again. 

"Well, someone looks happy," Furcus stated dryly as she entered the library, approaching your counter. There was a conspiratorial smirk on her face as she arched her brow. "Considering Balam was in a similar state when I passed him in the hall, I suppose there's been a change in your relationship?"

"Maybe?" You offered, biting back your smile. You couldn't even bother to be shy or embarrassed, you were just so happy!

Furcus' expression shifted to a soft smile. "I'm glad, you two deserve it. May I ask what he gave you as an offering?"

You only knew what she referred to from Shichiro's own ramblings earlier, and showed her the vine-bracelet. Her eyes lit up, her interest piqued as she studied it, though was careful not to touch it. 

"I'm surprised. Historically, an offering would be something valuable, such as gems or food, though nowadays many get by with just some store-bought trinket like a horn or tail ring. This is neither… what is it, some kind of Nigi-Nigi weed?" 

"Um, it's actually from Nigyul," You explained, feeling a little uncertain. "It's--"

"Infused with that powerful mana he's known for," She interrupted, and you realized she was completely in researcher mode. "I wouldn't be surprised if he or his nigyupnil couldn't track it. It'll also ward off any idiot who thinks you may be an easy target. Not just for being rankless, but for being so humiliated yesterday."

Humiliated? 

Oh. Oh. You presumed she meant your fight with Raim when you had lost control. You blushed, unconsciously pulling your hand away. 

There was that little dark whisper, grinning in victory as your mood sank. You had argued with the Seduction teacher in front of everyone, and then attacked her. Not with the small amount of magic you were learning, but as if she had been as weak as you.

Which she wasn't. Not in the least bit.  

It had been Balam to pull you off of her, but she had acted as if the whole thing was just a little play fighting between friends when at the moment you had just been wanting to make her hurt. 

Hurt like you had been feeling. 

You fiddled with the bracelet, the two parts warring with each other. Balam Shichiro cared for you in the same way you felt. Had stumbled over his words trying to reassure he would be as considerate to human customs as you tried to be with demons'. 

Yet you still felt like an idiot, just now with the added twist of being so caught up in your own thoughts and self-denials you hadn't realized the truth. 

There was a sharp, burning pain in your fingers, making you wince and look down at the bracelet. The once light green smooth vines had darkened, and had somehow grown small hair-like thorns. 

"Fascinating," Furcus all but purred, leaning to take a closer look. "I'm hardly an expert in devibotony or in magical zoology, but I don't think that's typical…"

"I don't believe so either." You didn't have much choice but to agree. After all, you were hardly an expert either, you were still learning the basics of the subjects. But considering everything, you highly doubted the change was a positive one. "Would you mind…"

Her smile had a slight smirk to it. "I can mind the counter for a while while you go consult the expert. And considering everything, I'd be happy to find someone to cover if you happen to dally."

You blushed, not quite how to protest now that you were courting, though you highly doubted that anything would really happen. There were no longer the charged emotions of yesterday - and despite the memory of Shirchiro's lips against yours hungry and desperate, part of you still…. Doubted. 

So you just muttered a quick thanks before quickly escaping. The halls were quiet, considering classes were still in session. You realized with a twisted stomach Balam would likely be in the middle of class, but you couldn't just return to the library either. 

Maybe you could just catch him between classes? Just long enough to assure that nothing deadly was happening. 

Luck seemed to smile on you, the bell screaming shortly as you reached the hall where Balam held his classes. A few students you were vaguely familiar with greeted you in passing, and you tried to ignore their smiles and giggles as soon as their back was turned. 

But you couldn't help but wonder what they were so amused about; the fact you were waiting to talk to Balam, or the rumors of yesterday. If they realized how weak you were, and how easily you had let your temper get the best of you...

How much of your rant at Raim had been overheard? How you had professed your feelings for Shichiro in your rage amongst admitting the frustration of being powerless. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as you were suddenly lifted up, Shichiro calling your name happily as he hugged you tightly. As your initial surprise waned, warmth flowed through you, both in contentment and embarrassment. Being picked up and cuddled like a teddy bear in front of students was awkward.

But being in Shichiro’s arms, his face nuzzling against your hair, was undeniably heartwarming and reassuring. "Good morning," He mumbled against you, the low rumble of his voice causing your stomach to flip flop. "I'm surprised to see you. A happy surprise, of course."

You shifted so you could face him, indulging in his embrace. "Good morning," You returned. "I don't want to bother you, but…." 

"You're never a bother," He assured immediately, setting you down for a moment. "But what's up?" 

You wordlessly showed him your bracelet, causing the interest to pique in his expression, but there was concern as well as he gently took your hand in his. "When did this happen?" 

"Uh. Within the last hour? It was fine until just a few minutes ago when I was talking to Furcus…" 

"Hmmm, let me talk with the students of my next class for their assignment and then I'll meet you in the prep room. Unless you don't have time?" 

You shook your head, the knot of anxiety building in your stomach. Did that mean the change was something to be concerned about?

The idea stewed in your mind as you parted ways and retreated to the prep room he shared with Suzy, though she admittingly rarely used it, considering she had the entirety of the greenhouse as her own. 

You heard Nigyul's odd little chirp as soon as you entered, and smiled at the pair of golden eyes staring down at you. "Hey you," You greeted as you stepped closer to the tangle of vines he had made a nest in. You lifted your hand for him to sniff in greeting before he butted against it, demanding to be pet as usual. 

With the bracelet near its origin, it was easier to tell how much it had changed, making you frown despite Nigyul's small pleased chirps as you scratched his small snout. 

The door opened a few moments later before Balam entered. "I'm sorry for the delay…"

"You're supposed to be teaching," You chided lightly. "If anything, I should be apologizing for bothering you." 

You could tell he was frowning from the tilt of his eyebrows as he cupped your face gently. "My dear, you are never a bother. Especially with something like this." 

You tried to beat back the warmth in your cheeks, reminding yourself now wasn't the time to fawn over how sweet he was, nor how his touch caused goosebumps as his fingers grazed down your arm to the bracelet in question. 

He led you to the large overstuffed couch, settling into it and pulling you to sit close as he studied the bracelet closely for a long moment. You allowed him to twist your arm gently to look at the entire loop of dark vines, and you had the oddest sense of him… prodding it with his mana. 

"I would guess it's been able to feed off your own mana," He admitted thoughtfully after a long moment. "Which is very surprising, but to be fair no one has kept a Nigyupnil in captivity before or used a cutting from them in such a way. Especially with a human…" 

His words more or less flowed in one one ear and out the other. "I wasn't using any mana. I haven't created any runes or anything since…" You trailed off, unable or maybe unwilling to explain that using magic had only stirred up memories that had been too painful for you at the time. 

"Granted, we don't know a lot regarding the differences in human and demon magic," He hummed thoughtfully, stroking your arm as if trying to be reassuring. "To the point that I had honestly thought humans had no magic until I met you and Iruma. But, from how you've explained using Runes, it's obviously linked with emotions, just like demons. Were you having any strong emotions?" 

You grew quiet, and Balam frowned as he noticed you withdraw slightly from him. "I was just… stressing over some things." You mumbled awkwardly, avoiding his gaze. 

Without thinking, Shichiro pulled you close to him, more or less causing you to fall into his lap as he curled his arms around you. "Stress is a form of strong negative emotions, likely to cause evil cycles and flares in magic. It would explain things. But… what's caused you to be so stressed?" 

You hesitated as you pressed your face against his chest, trying to avoid the dark thoughts. "Just… things. Feeling like I keep messing up. That I'm an idiot…"

"You are not an idiot," He interjected quickly. "Look at you! A wealth of sacred information." 

"Which is useless here," You shot back, looking up at him. "I mean, to you it may be great, but no one else. I'm surrounded by teachers and I look stupid compared with even the first year students." 

His frown deepened as he cupped your face once more. "Ask Ifrit about biology, and he'll tell you it could burn. Ask Orias about torture and he wouldn't have a clue. Demons have their passions and their niche interests. Take me, for example. I have always been fascinated with the different forms of life since I was a child. My mother's favorite story is about how I learned to walk because I was chasing a lizard in the yard. But you seem to know so much about various different aspects of your world, that to answer your questions about ours I often have to research it."

His words resonated as you leaned against him, feeling warm and protected as he rested his chin on the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your waist. "What's your passion?" He asked after a moment. "What is your driving force?" 

"I never had a passion, other than to survive," You admitted. "My life… sucked back on earth. Iruma was literally the best thing that had ever happened to me. I wanted so badly to take care of him, to show how much I cared for him…. And then we came here and suddenly our lives became so much better. He doesn't need me looking out for him anymore. I should be able to just relax and enjoy things, but I-I can't.."

Balam sighed as he hugged you a little tighter. "I wish I could ask Tsumuru on how to help you, but I worry they would ask too many questions. But, I do know that when a demon loses their ambition, it can be catastrophic to their psyche. If your goal was just to survive, and now it's no longer something you have to focus on, I'm sure there's some kind of correlation." 

Was it really that simple? "But, I still want to be a good mother to Iruma. A good daughter to Sullivan. And… find out where this is going," You admitted after a moment, emphasizing your words by stroking his chest lightly. "But they seem so insignificant compared to everyone else's dreams. I mean, I know Iruma loves me, but he doesn't need me. Neither does Sullivan. In fact…"

You trailed off, unwilling to voice that dark thought. But Balam wasn't going to allow it, apparently, as he pulled back to look you in the eye, encouraging you to continue.

You glanced away, avoiding those fathomless pools or warm darkness. "It's nothing," You tried to lie, forgetting for one moment such tricks didn't work on the giant demon.

He cupped your face, encouraging you to look at him. "It's not nothing, judging by the reaction from my bloodline ability."

You cursed to yourself. Of all the demons and their abilities. "... shouldn't you go back to your class?" You asked as you tried to avoid answering. "I mean, if this isn't going to be a danger to anyone, surely they take precedence."

"My students are reading the next chapter and likely thankful for the unexpected study time," He answered. "They'll be fine. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," You answered automatically, causing his frown to deepen. 

"You're not," He voiced the one thing you were trying to avoid admitting. He pulled you back to him, holding you tightly. "Let me help you. Please. You mean so much to me, please tell me what's wrong." 

His words echoed from the day before, and like then, you cracked. "I can't help but feel like I contribute nothing," You admitted as you pressed yourself against him. Hoping maybe you would be able to absorb some of his strength or his certainty.  "That my foolishness and mistakes are going to endanger Iruma. That maybe things would be better for him - for everyone - if I wasn't here." 

His embrace tightened to the point of almost hurting. "You may believe those words, but they're lies." He growled, surprising you with the venom in his tone. "You are needed, you are wanted, by all of us. You belong here, human or not. Lord Sullivan and Iruma love you, as does Senpai. The students adore you, especially the misfits. And I…I could not stand it if you left merely because you thought you were not wanted. I would find a way to go to the human realm if I had to, just to be with you."

His words cracked something deep in your chest, and despite your best efforts to press down the lump in your throat, you were soon crying into his chest as you clung to him. 

Why? Why did he have to be so damn perfect and sweet? How could he know the virtually perfect words to say? "I want you, we all want you here," He repeated, running his fingers through your hair as you cried. "Nothing would be better if you weren't here. If anything, it would be much worse." 

--+--

Neither Furcus nor the library battler was waiting for you when you returned to the library. Instead, Sullivan was helping the students, a cheerful smile on his face despite the baffled looks of the students. 

"I didn't expect you down here," You admitted as you approached. "I thought one of the others was going to cover?"

"Well, I happened to overhear--" Sullivan paused as he turned to face you, his smile disappearing in an instant. There was a brief moment as his cheery expression fell, revealing a sort of cold anger that disappeared as soon as it appeared, replaced by tears welling up in his eyes as he tackled you. "Sweetie! What could make my dear princess cry?!

Ah. Right. For as much crying as you did, your eyes were likely red and puffy.

"I-I was talking with Balam about some things," You tried to explain, vaguely aware as students started to awkwardly avoid the area, knowing how Lord Sullivan got sometimes. 

Sullivan froze for a moment, that odd steelines returning to his eyes. "Balam made you cry?" 

"Not like that!" You answered quickly, and that cold look disappeared instantly. 

"Then what?" He asked, clutching your hands tightly. "What could have made you cry?"

You shifted guiltily, half tempted to lie since Sullivan did not have Balam's lie-detection ability - yet the idea also left you uncomfortable. You had admitted the truth to Shichiro, so maybe you should do the same for the demon who had made all of this possible in the first place.

"You know how I haven't been quite myself lately?" You started, finally deciding on which half to listen to.

Sullivan nodded with a slight frown, "I had hopes that had been resolved, considering the rumors and your bracelet." 

You blushed. Has it really been that obvious? "Well… so…" You looked around, assuring no one else was around before sighing. "It was more than that that was causing me to feel depressed. With everything that's happened… I was feeling like I was more trouble than I was worth, for everyone involved."

Sullivan's eyes softened at your words, one hand reaching up to brush your cheek. "You don't think that, surely?"

You pulled your hands away from his and rubbed your eyes as you avoided his gaze, so full of both pity and pain. "I have been… still kind of do," You admitted quietly. "but Balam talked me through a lot, and--"

You were interrupted as Sullivan pulled you into a tight hug. "My dear daughter," He spoke softly, not at all like his usual exuberance. "You have no idea how much you mean to me."

"I just kinda fell into your life," You argued lightly, "chasing after Iruma. I'm essentially just an accident." 

"Yes," He acknowledged slowly. "However, I would have never offered just anyone to become my daughter. I had never seen such love - such compassion - in all my years. I knew that not only would it be beneficial to Iruma for you to remain, but I had hoped that it would be a good change for so many others as well.  And I selfishly hoped that you would come to see me as family just as Iruma had."

"I do," You answered without thinking. "I never had a father figure before… but I still can't help but worry that I'll end up failing or disappointing everyone."

"My girl," He said so fondly, that deep paternal expression on his face as he pulled back slightly. "The only way you could disappoint me was if you gave up. I know being here must be challenging, but you have no idea how important you have become. For you to give up would devastate me and so many others." 

"I'm not that important," You scoffed. Yeah, the Misfits would miss you, and Shichiro, Iruma, and maybe even Sullivan would be sad… but that was it. No one would be devastated.

There was a sparkle in his eyes, "You saw for yourself in Walter Park, your matronly nature is rare - virtually unheard of, in this realm. Just as Iruma's kindness draws demons in, so do you. Can you imagine how Iruma's classmates would react if he thought the same as you?" 

Devi, there would be literal chaos as they would try to make him see the truth. Especially Az and Clara.

But it wouldn't just be the Misfits. He had proven with earning Royal One that he was respected by so many. 

"I'm not him, though," You replied, shaking your head. 

"No, but the effect would be the same," He responded. "The teachers see you as their equal. The students of all years and classes respect you and dare I say adore you. You have done so much good for the morale of this school. Losing you would be the same as losing Iruma. Which, let's not even discuss how he would feel." 

The same sentiment as Shichiro, but said with a father's love. The dark whispering in your mind quieted, silenced by the weight of their words. It was also the way Sullivan had said it, with that rare solemness you were unused to. 

"And if you ever doubt how loved and wanted you are," He continued after allowing you to mull over his words. "Say something in the future, my dear. I would be happy to remind you, as I am sure Balam and Iruma would as well." 

--+-- Su Ki Ma --+--

There was a knock on your door later that night as you mindlessly skimmed through one of your books, unable to read as your mind tumbled over all the events of the day, weighing and ruminating over both Shichiros and Sullivan's words. 

Iruma poked his head around the door, his blue eyes already in puppy-mode. "Can I come in?" 

"Always," You answered, setting the book aside and patting the area beside you. He quickly crossed the room and climbed onto your bed, snuggling close to your side without hesitation, which surprised you. Yes, he was affectionate for someone his age, you thought, but usually not like this. 

"Is everything okay?" You asked as you combed his wild blue hair with your fingers, that curled lock at the crown of his head refusing to comply. 

"I'm fine, but… I heard you weren't," He admitted softly. "I know you haven't been your usual self, but Opera and my classmates thought you and Professor Balam were just pining after one another. But… then I heard you were crying today…"

Demons were the worst about gossiping. You were starting to wonder if there were any secrets in that school. 

Then again. You and Iruma were proof that a few secrets were kept safe. 

But, how to explain everything to Iruma? He was impossible to lie to, especially with those large blue eyes of his. "...my mood was not entirely because of my feelings for Professor Balam," You sighed. "I've been struggling with some other things, but it's getting better now." 

He looked up at you, confused. "What do you mean?" 

You sighed again, rubbing your head. "It's really hard to explain, but I guess it boils down to the fact that I've been feeling rather useless lately, now that things aren't as stressful and you're well taken care of." 

His hold on you tightened. "But I do need you! You're my Mom! I mean, I love Grandpa," He admitted softly after his initial outburst. "And everyone else too. But you're my Mom. No one could replace you. You were the first person to actually care for me. Who actually loved me." 

Guilt ate at your heart as you pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his head. "It was just a feeling, sweetie. Sometimes depression hits hard, especially when things are too good to be true for those of us who have struggled most of our lives." 

To be honest, you were shocked he hadn't shown any of the negative effects of his past. He had gone so much worse than you had, yet seemed to carry on without so much a shadow hanging over his head. 

You prayed to any higher powers he would stay like that. That he could leave his trauma behind and embrace his future. 

But you also feared that maybe it was still looming in the future, buried far deeper than your own. 

Maybe you could help him, should that dark beast be lurking in his psyche. 

"Having people who love you, who care for you, is the best thing for these kinds of things," You said after a moment, thinking to how much Shichiro had helped; how much Sullivan - even Raim in her own way - had finally caused that dark feeling to loosen its grip. "Even when you feel at your worst, it's okay to talk about it. To reach out for comfort." 

It was a bit hypocritical in hindsight, but you could admit that trying to deal with everything on your own had not been the right choice. 

"Even if you feel like no one will want to listen, I will," You continued, looking down at those sweet blue eyes and allowing that motherly love and fierceness burn in your chest. "I will always be here for you. No matter what." 

[smallestapplin]

Hello!!

Can I ask for Laventon with a tarzan reader? Oh what joy to be so uncaring about nakedness with the gentlemanly professor <3

Of course!

🔞Cw : nudity and adult situations. If you’re a minor please exit stage left and never interact. Afab body type.🔞

-

-

-

The reports of a wild person came flooding in, it was after a harsh storm? Laventon wouldn’t even call it that.

It was a distortion, he wasn’t even sure what had happened, but after one in the fieldlands, talk began of some feral individual protecting Pokémon and trying to harm people that got too close.

“Laventon, you are to stay away from the areas of attack, do you understand?”

He recalls Cyllene telling him just before he left. Of course he agreed to, remembering where everyone said the attacks usually take place.

But he saw an odd Pokémon, one he hadn’t seen in Hisui before!

Like a sneasel yet…not? It certainly wasn’t one he’d ever seen before, how could he resist!

That was until he was tackled, his body slamming against the ground and being kept pinned.

His vision blurs from how hard his head smacked against the ground, but slowly focuses on what’s above him.

Laventon holds his breath, seeing you glaring down at him, your teeth bared like a snarling Arcanine, glaring down at him.

He doesn’t move, purple eyes widen as he realizes you’re the wild one everyone has been talking about. You don’t seem too aggressive, as you haven’t attack him

It’s almost like you’re trying to protect something.

You two lay like that for a few more minutes, staring at each other, neither of you moving. Until it seems you realized he isn’t a threat, and slowly climb off of him.

You tense back up, ready to pounce again when the strange man yelps, quickly covering his face.

“O-oh sweet almighty! I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t looking!”

How did he just notice you were naked!? Oh the professor feels faint. The only thing you had on was a poorly placed loin cloth, but that still left you bare.

You tilt your head, sniffing around him and cooing softly, think you had hurt him on accident.

The closer to get to him, the more he panics.

Do you have no idea what the problem is!? Judging by how confused and worried you look, no, no you don’t.

“Oh I can hear the captain scolding me now! P-please, just take my coat!”

Laventon gently tosses his lab coat at you, the fabric covering your head. You attentively sniff the coat that’s over you, it smells so strongly of this odd man.

Is he trying to court you, like your mama Weavile is courted by others? He gave you a heavily scented item, and he looks similar to you.

Unlike those other weird ones who tried attacking you and your pack.

Mama Weavile would approve!

Laventon peeks between his fingers at your happy sounding…purr? His face burns as you put the coat on, the large coat dwarfs you in comparison.

It’s better than nothing, and it covers you a lot more! Only the professor squeaks when you muzzle up against him.

“M….mate!”

“I-I’m sorry!?”

Oh how this day just keeps getting more and more bizarre, yet he can’t find it in him to be mad.

Despite your lack of words, you seem to know exactly what’s going on.

And judging by that, you had to have been raised in the wild, but what kept you alive for so long out here?

A roar breaks out, breaking him from his thoughts. Looking around, he sees that strange Pokémon he was following earlier.

The large red crest on its head, the sleek dark grey fur and sharp claws.

It almost looked like a variant of sneasel, but he’s never seen one quite like it.

But seeing how angry it looks, he needs to think of how to survive and fast.

First you, now this.

He really needs a break.