#mainly i just have an idea for a title and that's it

[calamity-crows]

Title: I don't want to talk about this.

"I'm asexual."

"I don't like talking about my sexuality. Not in the no one will understand me woe is me way. I mean there's truth in that most won't relate. But mostly it's just inconvenient. I guess I should feel lucky because my family tends to leave it alone. They're more concerned with unmarried cousins who are almost thirty. I still get all the classic comments about 'giving it time' and 'being young. As if I wouldn't know by now. It doesn't help that everyone reminds me that I look far younger than I am. I am a sexless being to them, which is fine by me. Except sexless isn't the word I would use to describe my experience with asexuality. I don't like talking about this... because I don't know how to feel about this facet of myself. Or what it means for my future. The unknown is uncomfortable..."

"First, let's get the clinical shit out of the way. There are a lot of misconceptions about asexuality. Mainly that asexuals don't have sex, or that we don't want it ever. While this can be true, asexuality exists on a spectrum within a spectrum, meaning you can be gay, straight, bi etc. and also be asexual. Asexual simply means that an individual experiences little to no sexual attraction. This is also separate from Aromanticism, which is the same thing, but with romantic attraction. It is possible to be one without the other. For most, sex and romance are tied together but they aren't inherently combined but that's a whole other thing. I personally experience elements of both but don't bother with micro labels for my own sanity. I've wasted too much time on labels. So, in laymans terms, asexuals do not feel the attraction part of sex or it is at least very rare but this does not equate to not wanting sex at all. The best way I can think to explain it is the analogy of eating cake. Asexual people do not 'crave cake' but eating it can still be enjoyable, some asexual people might be neutral to it- like a take it or leave it situation- while some might outright dislike it. The nuance of asexuality is often hard to describe. For instance, Demisexuality (one facet of acespec) describes only feeling attraction after forming a strong emotional connection. This sometimes confuses people because it is normal to only have sex with those you connect with. The core of this misconception lies in the distinction between sex and sexual attraction. Asexuality describes the lack of sexual attraction, not the amount of sex an individual has."

"I grew up in a 'heteronormative queer' household. I acknowledge the contradiction. But I don't have a better way to articulate it. My childhood was split between two households; One queer, one straight, both nuclear. From a young age, I had outwardly queer friends. I was aware of the social stigma against queer people, but to me, queerness didn't feel much different from any other relationship. In that respect, I led a sheltered life."

"Entering middle school brought an abrupt change in house sex was presented to me. No longer was it this vague concept, but rather it became something rapidly tangible. For the first time there was pressure to understand, to enjoy sexual content. To participate. With the internet at my disposal I went from knowing nothing to being exposed to hardcore pornography. To say I was uninterested would be a lie, but I noticed my own curiosity did not line up with my friend's interest. I was simply emulating their behavior in a vain attempt to justify my standing in the group. Through it all, I felt isolated. As if I was on some other island entirely."

"I have since made several friends that happened to share similar experiences to mine. I did not seek them out, but I am forever grateful I found them. Still our society is built around the idea of a nuclear family structure and a part of me still yearns to fulfil that in some way. The idea that I will end up alone haunts me."

"See, here's the thing, I love romance as a genre. I love the feeling of reading a really good romance novel. Or watching a great romcom. But then, after I am left with this hollow feeling inside. Reminding me that I will never experience this. Forced to live vicariously through this fantasy. But this idealized form of love isn't real for anyone. And that soothes something in me. I don't know if I'll ever have even half of that. Logically I know this is okay. But it doesn't feel okay.... whatever. I'm tired of this edgy ass conversation..."

[End]

a comic about my experience with asexuality

[felassan]

This post is a follow-on to [this post].

Some more Bluesky posts by David Gaider:

David Gaider: "The Road to Summerfall - Part 3 I haven't talked a lot about the two years I spent at Beamdog (between 2016 and 2018) mainly because, well, ultimately nothing came of it. I worked on two projects, both of which ended up cancelled. Still, I think the time I spent there was ultimately worthwhile." [x]

(Rest of post is under a cut due to length.)

"After leaving BioWare, I was understandably in a bit of a funk. I talked to my friends at length about how I wanted to start a studio, but for that you really need two things: someone to handle the biz dev side, who can start the company and talk to publishers, and someone to work on the project." [x] "I was the latter, certainly, but even then my options were limited. I could put together a design, but I couldn't *make* a game on my own without engineering and art skills, and I had neither. So whatever design I made would need to be pitched to publishers, and for that I needed the biz dev person." [x] "Yet I didn't know anyone like that yet. And this really is a case where you either do or don't, because you can't just *join* a start up as a co-founder unless you know someone involved first. The only other way is by being hired as an employee. Nobody *hires* co-founders, unless you're truly lucky." [x]

"Around this time, I ran into Trent Oster at my local gym. Trent used to work at BioWare (as a co-founder, and was, at one time, one of the Project Directors on DAO) and left to found Beamdog - a small Edmonton studio which, at that time, had mostly done re-makes of BioWare's Infinity Engine games." [x] "He told me Beamdog was starting to do their own projects. They were finishing Siege of Dragonspear, an expansion for BG1, but more importantly were also up to something else: a sequel to Planescape: Torment, for which they had Chris Avellone on board as a consultant. Now THAT caught my interest." [x] "After all, making a sequel to one of the most beloved Infinity Engine titles? In the Planescape setting, which I adored, and which gave license to break all the "standard" rules of CRPG's? Yes, please! Under that premise, I warily agreed - and by March of 2016 I was Beamdog's new Creative Director." [x]

"Initially, I was diverted onto doing a treatment for a possible BG3 - which I did, but we quickly learned that Wizards of the Coast (WotC) had already passed this onto a triple-A developer. We *suspected* this was Larian, and at that point: fair enough! There was no way Beamdog could match that!" [x] "Thus, I spent the next year training a pair of brilliant young writers and (with Chris Avellone's help) put together a plan for what ended up being called Planescape: Unraveled, where you played one of three aspects of Ravel Puzzlewell racing against time to solve the mystery of your own existence." [x] "I was proud of this one, let me tell you. It was sharp, it had great NPC's, WotC was so excited about it they were willing to move up their plans for 3rd edition Planescape and include some of the characters and seismic events from the game in the setting reboot. We were ready to start writing!" [x]

"The problem? Funding. WotC wasn't in a place to do more than give a stamp of approval, and the publishers we met... well, Trent knows more than I do, but I think there was a perception that Planescape wasn't very successful or commercial. Or maybe they just didn't have confidence in Beamdog, or me." [x] "Whatever the problem, we couldn't sell it... and by the end of 2016, we had to put Planescape: Unraveled on the shelf and start something new. Which killed me, and I almost moved on right then, but then Trent gave me license to move onto a pet project of mine: a game which became Cold West." [x] "See, I had a long-standing itch to make something Weird West. I'd pitched an idea for an Old West exorcist game to Bio back in the day (to blank stares and "thanks for the pitch"), but here I had the chance to actually develop it into something? OK, yes. For that, I'll keep going. And I did." [x]

"Thus, we made a game that took place in Alberta (the Canadian province where Edmonton is) in 1881, but with demons and magic and dark fae. It gave me a chance to do history research about Canada's Old West period and especially its aboriginal history, something home-grown, and it felt REALLY cool." [x] "Even with a great playable prototype showing off the turn-based combat, however: we couldn't sell it. Weird West isn't a popular genre, I suppose, but whatever the problem was once again the publishers Beamdog spoke to all passed. Once again, we were all ready to start writing and had to shelve it." [x] "I was gutted. Two cancellations in a row? I always had the feeling Trent didn't think either of these games had much commercial appeal, but - to his credit - he let them happen. Now, however, it was time to make something more conventionally commercial. Time for Beamdog, perhaps, but not for me." [x] "I would have left by this point anyhow, I think, but it just so happened I'd recently made a friend who was maybe that very biz dev-oriented person one needed to start a studio... and who wanted to do just that. So, as I left Beamdog at the start of 2018, this time it was with a plan. Maybe. 😅" [x]

[original thread, following thread, latest thread]

Follow-up and other recent Q&A Bluesky posts:

Mike Laidlaw: "Dave’s making me blush in [this thread]. Happy memories working together even if the entire writing team would wince every time I walked in their room and said, “Soooo…..” and clapped-clasped my hands. It was and still is my “bad news is a-comin’” tell." [x] David Gaider: "I still tell tales to the youngins about your "So!" power move and the sheer terror it would inspire in me each and every time. 😅" [x] "And the grin. The grin that contained a self-awareness of the pain he was about to inflict, and which he took no personal joy in, but By God it was going to happen anyhow." [x]

DG: "While I was at BioWare, EA *always* preferred Mass Effect, straight up Their Marketing team liked it more. It was modern. It had action. They never quite knew what to do with DA, and whenever DA outperformed ME, ME got the excuses. If you ask me, it was always just shy of the axe since DA Origins." [x] Allan Schumacher: "I felt this percolated down to people in studio as well. ME was the prestige franchise, while DA was the plucky one that was too wild west and had low standards." [x] DG: "It was kind of hard to get away from the feeling that the Dragon Age team was BioWare's "B team", wasn't it? Even when Mass Effect didn't do as well as Dragon Age, there was a kind of certainty that this was a fluke and Mass Effect ultimately had more *potential*." [x]

User: "I've always wondered how close Beamdog got to doing BG3 and if there was anything planned in advance before it ended up with Larian." DG: "I answered this in the latest thread. Beamdog made a pitch for a BG3, but it was already in Larian's hands by that point. So never more than a pitch." [x]

[original thread, following thread, latest thread]

[cripplecharacters]

Hey, first, thank you for the work you do here. Second, I'm a bit stumped and I'd like some opinions.

There's a character in the game Darkest Dungeon called "The Leper", who's based on the movie Kingdom of Heaven's depiction of Baldwin IV (also called The Leper), so he has a dramatic facial difference and all the stuff you'd expect from the disease in medieval times. There's a lot one could discuss, but my question is more about how to approach the character in a modern AU.

In our times, Hansen's disease is highly treatable and it's unlikely someone outside of poor isolated areas would suffer so severely from it. So I'm stuck between two options: 1. Make a nod towards the fact the character did get sick but got treated 2. Attributing his facial difference and other potential disabilities to another cause. Neither feel ideal. Option 1 makes him abled, but 2 kind of treats this highly contextual element as interchangeable with other forms of disability? Do you guys have other ideas, or maybe either could be fine with the right execution?

Hey!

I'm familiar with game but played the first one years ago so I might misremember some lore of that one. And there is definitely a lot to say about Baldwin/The Leper (both good and bad) but I'll just get to the questions.

I think that option two or secret option three would be better here. Since being ill is a major part of his character I don't think just having him be cured is the way, even if it's the realistic option for a modern AU - and to be honest, whenever I see a canonically disabled character get cured in a fanfiction my mind immediately goes to "author didn't want to deal with a disabled character" (since that's usually the case) even if it's a rare scenario like here where it would actually be the realistic option.

Option two would be giving him a different condition with matching characteristics (mainly the facial difference and partial? blindness) and that obviously raises some issues. However, I genuinely think there is some wiggle room to make it make sense.

"Whether by some affliction of lineage or by direct transmission, symptoms of incurable disease..."

...is what the second game says. It considers it to be some Disease with an Unclear Cause.

To the player it's obvious that it's Hansen's disease just because of his title, but it seems to be at least somewhat unclear in-universe if it's actually that or a genetic disorder of some sort. I'm mostly bringing this up as an argument that could back up option two, but I also always found it unusual that they didn't specify it and went with the "it's ambiguous" explanation, especially since the character's title is literally The Leper, which seems almost inconsistent. This brings me to a second point:

People with conditions that are categorically not X but look like X from the outside can and are wrongly categorized as having X. Could Baldwin have something else and be called a leper by others as either a pejorative or just a case of misidentification? I don't know, maybe. It could be me projecting the amount of people I've seen get accused of having monkeypox while they literally just have genetic conditions, which I guess is the modern version of that happening with someone being accused of having Hansen's.

Either way, there is at least this one (1) line that allows for reading Baldwin as having some other condition. He is of course based on the Leper King who did have Hansen's disease, but there are a lot of things that the game changes - the situation where he contracted the disease, his age when that happened, his symptoms (the actual king was supposedly unable to walk), his ethnicity, etc... It's definitely not 1:1. And in a modern AU it's going to be even further from the original inspiration anyway.

I'll also say that him having Hansen's disease isn't actually that consistent with what his backstory implies - specifically the infection-to-symptoms speed that Baldwin is shown to have is very unusual for Hansen's disease. He is implied to experience changes in his appearance etc. extremely fast after the infection (or "infection"), but the shortest time for that to happen in actual Hansen's disease is around 9 months from what I've read, with the more common timeline being around 5 years - that's for first signs, not the very severe end that he is shown to be experiencing. The real life king first contracted the disease as a child but allegedly his disfigurement only started after he became a king (so in his teens). It also requires much more contact to actually contract Hansen's than Baldwin is ever shown to have with the sick people he's comforting, so that doesn't really match either (in real life, you need prolonged, frequent contact with an infected person's droplets, it explicitly doesn't spread through touch).

For Baldwin to still work as the character, I think he'd need a similar set of symptoms rather than the actual diagnosis of Hansen's. My first idea here was noma, which probably fits Baldwin's actual symptoms (and their onset speed) more than Hansen's disease, but it'd be heavily dependent on where he'd be from in the AU since it's primarily a tropical disease. Second option could be neurofibromatosis (type 1), it's genetic, it'd be realistic to have severe symptoms even with modern medicine, and it can start somewhat suddenly (e.g. less disabling signs often appear early and progress slowly, but a larger tumor can be triggered by an injury). Third option could be congenital syphilis since it's very common in the modern times (rare to have it so severe nowadays, but possible) and fits a lot if not all of Baldwin's symptoms, aside from the onset and progression speed.

Now, the issue with all of these is that they, unlike Hansen's, aren't contagious from person to person. That's something that you would have to change - messing with a disability's "contagiousness status" is one of those things where I always have to say no because it's related to actual stigma that affects people. Since it's already a modern AU I assume you're going to change how he got his disability in the first place, but as a rule of thumb: if it's not contagious in real life, don't make it so in fanfiction either.

Third secret option is making him have Hansen's disease and be from one of those regions where it does actually occur to that severity. The two options here are really just India or Brazil since those are the only places with a relatively high number of cases (out of these two Brazil would make more sense for Baldwin since he's shown to be Black in the second game, but there are Black Indians too). You'd probably have to redo a lot of his backstory for all of it to make sense, but it is technically an option; people still get Hansen's in modern times.

Thank you for the question and I hope the answer helps,

mod Sasza

[spellmage]

i'm having the itch to write durgetash again...... but also i have no ideas just vague longing

[roostertuftart]

would it be crazy if i changed my username..... ahaha... would that be insane....

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8564 tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: longer chapter woohoo, was gonna write after break but had so much inspo. wrote on my phone, so if there’s any typos, please ignore 🥹 series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

The nights haven’t been easy in the past couple of days. Mingled with a growing sense of anxiety added on top of your already heightened stress, your brain just can’t seem to shut off. You’ve tried melatonin and no more caffeine, but caffeine is ultimately getting you through the day and keeping you up when needed. In all honesty, you’ve already been struggling with sleep, but with the surprise meet with Suguru, dread’s been pooling in your stomach.

You have no doubt he spilled the beans. Hell, you would too if that was your best friend. You can only hope he somehow didn’t, though. A small part of you would be a little annoyed if he did, because again, he has no role in this. At least not a big one.

A sudden banging on your door jolts you upright, checking the clock and it’s not even 7:30 yet. Only one person could be demanding your presence so early. A heavy sigh leaves you, forcing your stiff muscles out of bed, wrapping yourself in a robe before trudging to the front door. When you peek through the peephole, your landlord stands there with an annoyed expression on his old face, foot tapping the ground in impatience.

“Bastard,” you mumble to yourself before opening the door. “Good morning, Mr. Sato.”

Seems he doesn’t have time for fake pleasantries, “Y/N, I’m assuming you saw the eviction note I left on your door yesterday morning.”

Unfortunately. “Yes, sir. I did.”

His arms cross, scratching at his greying mustache, “So, is it also safe to to assume you’ll have the money by next Friday?”

You sigh heavily, hand running through your hair. This is not how you wanted to start your morning. He was already making your life hell by suddenly raising your rent out of nowhere three months ago for so-called “renovations”. But you’ve yet to see any actual renovations being done. Not to mention, you’ve been bugging about your heater no longer working, and during this time of year, you and Koji are practically freezing to death. You had to buy a portable heater, small, but it gets the job done. Although it’s mainly in Koji’s room because you’d rather freeze than let him. “Look, Mr. Sato, I’m really trying here. I’m working hard to get the money, but please understand that—”

“Understand? I’ve been understanding, Y/N. I even applied last month’s rent to this month, just ‘cause of you.”

Of course, he’s gonna throw that in your face. Landlords seem to take their title so literally that if he didn’t have this much control over your space of safety, you would’ve ripped him a new one. Also, how could you forget that to even get him to agree to that plea deal, you were forced through an hour and a half of an uncomfortable, infuriating dinner with the man. Really, he’s not giving you much to work with here, but then again, you shouldn’t have had such high hopes. “I know, I know,” you reply, scratching at your roots. “I’ll have the money, okay?”

“You better,” he says gruffly. “Or I’m renting this unit to someone who can actually afford it. I’m hurting here too, you know?”

You huff. “Yeah, thanks.”

Without another word, you close the door in the man’s face, locking it. Leaning your back up against the hard surface, you close your eyes and will yourself to stay calm and positive. Counting back from ten and then back, a small tip your therapist showed you before your insurance no longer covered it. It’s okay. It’s only the start of the day, you have 20 something hours left. Now’s not the time to throw yourself a pity party and play woe is me. Now’s the time to just pick yourself up and move on. You’ll find a solution for the money, you always do.

Though this time, you can’t help but feel you’re really fucked.

I mean, you honestly have no idea how you’re going to come up with almost four thousand dollars in just a week. That sounds quite literally impossible in every single way. You get paid next week, but with taxes, you’re going home with maybe three thousand, so how will you get that extra thousand?

Unless some miracle decides to hit you, which almost never seems to happen. You used to think someone hoaxed you, or you were just born with the most unluckiest luck ever. Or, the more cynical thought you tend to have, you were fated to live a life in strict financial management, and hardships are constantly thrown at you left and right.

But hey, you’ve made it this far, right?

“No, I haven’t.”

“You what?!”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Y/N, what the fu–”

“Jesus Christ, I know, Hana. You don’t have to make me feel even more like shit.”

Your friend stops mid-way, eyeing your very displeased expression. She sighs and relents, slumping back in the small chair in the backroom of the cafe. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting your confession simmer and process. When she does, it’s an honest question. “But…why?”

Why. You feel like you’re staring to hate that damn word. “A lot of reasons, I know it’s not really justified, but I just…need someone to understand me for once. Not come at me for my dumb decisions.”

Your words feel bare and raw, not completely exposing the extent of the emotions you’ve been harboring, but enough to make her stop. Hana regards you with pursed lips, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Finally, she nods. “Okay, I won’t question you anymore. You have your reasons, and your reasons are always valid. So, I’m behind you on this. We stick together, remember?”

A hint of a smile forms on your lips, quietly thanking her. She comes forward to give you a hug, one you immediately reciprocate. Her auburn hair tickling your nostrils, arms seemingly tightening. “Don’t go holding things in anymore, I told you that. I’m here, to talk, listen, whatever.”

You and Hana met three years ago. She was just your co-worker at the time, now promoted to your manager. Although she’s two years younger than you, you two relate to a lot of things. Whether that be movies, food, what guys are hot, or alcohol. If anything, Hana might be your only friend in general. It’s a little sad, maybe, but at least you have someone to come to when you need to talk about adult issues your five-year-old wouldn’t be able to comprehend.

“I love you.” You find yourself muttering.

“I love you too, girl. Now, get out there, your break’s up.”

Jokingly scoffing and nudging her, you stand from the seat and do a quick stretch. Preparing yourself for yet another few hours of dreaded customer service and fake smiles, you walk out of the backroom, pushing the small curtains aside that separate the back from the counter, and clock back in.

“Cash or card?”

“Hello, how can I help you today?”

“Would that be all?”

“Have a nice day.”

Are all phrases any retail or customer service worker finds a little annoying, if not a lot. It’s so draining. And when the customers don’t greet you back, your pettiness shines through and you won’t even say have a good day to them when they’re leaving. Although, the job does have some upsides to it. For example, you get to make free coffees, take whatever pastries are left at the end of the day home, and the customers are never really bad. Of course, you have had a couple experiences, but nothing compared to a chain store. You’re even starting to use your customer service voice throughout the day, even when you’re not at work. Honestly, that’s not very good.

As you’re wiping up the counter, you feel a buzzing in your pocket. Taking your phone out, you see a set of numbers, an unsaved contact. You give Hana a quick glance, muttering a “just a sec”, before going back to the back to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

God, it’s gonna take some time getting used to his voice on the regular now. “Oh, Suguru. hey…uh–what’s up?”

There’s some shuffle on the other side like he’s adjusting the phone. “Are you busy right now?”

“Well, yes. I’m on the clock.”

He sighs, phone switching to his car output. “Where do you work? I’ll come now.”

“What?” you splutter out, head shaking. “No, Suguru, you can’t just pop out at my job. I’m busy, just tell me what you need right now.”

“I’m not sure I should.”

That statement alone scares you a bit. His cynicism always got on your nerves, but it also worried you from time to time. Most of the time, he didn’t mean any harm because that’s just how Suguru was, but it still did its job. Contemplation strikes through you. “Is it bad?”

He hesitates, which only further skyrockets your anticipation. “Honestly, it’s not too bad. But still, I need to talk to you.”

A breath emits from your lips, one you didn’t know you were holding. Eyes meeting the ceiling, you ponder over your decisions. Eventually, you come to a conclusion. “Fine, but it can’t be too long. I’m at Deja Brew, the cafe on–”

“On Express, got it. Be there in a bit.”

He’s hanging up before you even get a chance to question that he knew the cafe you worked at. If he did, surely he would have visited at least once, but you’ve never seen him come in. And you’re every day. Unless he usually comes when you’re not clocked in anymore. Anywho, you steel yourself for the inevitable conversation. Anticipating whatever bad or not-so-good news he'll give you.

“So.”

“Mm, this is good.” Suguru nods appreciatively, sipping from his coffee. You made it for him before he arrived, as a weird sort of gift to him. You two have situated yourself in a booth in the corner. Hana was a little confused as to why you were taking a break while you were on the clock, even regarding you with an almost scolding look. But the second she saw Suguru follow, her expression changed.

You practically saw the heart eyes form, smiling in a bashful way. That’s one thing you forgot about. The way girls would magnetize themselves towards the man, his best friend too. The two together were an almost deadly duo.

“Suguru,” you say, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “Please just…don’t stall anymore. Why did you want to see me?”

“Right,” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter. Once more, his steely gaze meets yours, you have to hold back the sudden urge to look away. “Like I said, it’s not terrible news, but not very good either.”

You nod, wanting him to just stop with the extraness and get to the point. “Okay, say it.”

“Satoru.” is the first thing he says, gauging your automatic grimace to his name. “He knows.”

Figures. “And you told him?”

He nods in response. You exhale, rubbing your face. “Suguru, why? I didn’t say you could.”

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed permission to tell my best friend he has a secret love child he hasn’t known about for five years, Y/N.” You hate when his voice gets like that, like you’re a school child who’s just been caught by her teacher for doing something she wasn’t supposed to. ��Anywho, he knows. He wasn’t…very happy.”

You slowly ask, unsure if you’re ready to hear the answer. “What did he say?”

“More so what he did than said,” he pushes a stray strand of black hair out his eye and behind his ear, arms crossing. “He’s been quite easy to anger. I mean, I haven’t really talked to him because he’s not answering my calls, but I’ve been hearing from people at the office. He also kicked my ass out right after I told him. But that’s all I know at least, Nanami says he’s like a ticking time bomb.”

Jesus Christ. You don’t know what else you were expecting, you’re surprised he hasn’t done worse, but like Suguru said, that’s all he knows. His state is most likely a hundred times worse than what’s being thrown at you right now. You feel an intense guilt pool, mixing with a slight fear. “Did he…do anything else? Say anything?”

“I don’t know, he’s not talking to me right now.” Suguru concedes, leaning closer to you, brows furrowing in a seriousness. “Look, I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel worse, but I should let you know. He’s going to try and seek you out now that he knows about his son. You know that, right?”

Of course, you fucking know that. That’s what makes you scared, the possibility of somehow running across him in the most unsuspecting of places makes you want to stay holed up in your shitty apartment. “Yeah,” you gulp. “I figured.”

“I don’t know how he’ll react if–when–he does see you.” he honestly admits. “I just think you should reach out to him first, before he does it. I have his number, you should ca—”

“Stop.” you hold a hand up, eyes closing. “No more, I don’t want to be told what to do. I just…need some time processing everything right now.”

“Y/N–”

“Suguru,” your eyes open, staring at him dead on. “You seriously can’t expect me to jump from one thing to the next. I need fucking time to figure out what I’m gonna do. I’m already stressed as it is, now I have to worry about my son’s father possibly trying to reach out and that just sets me more on fucking edge. You come to my work, spring this on me, and I–” you’re rambling. Cutting yourself off in the middle of a sentence, choosing not to finish it. The last thing you need to do is rant to him. Besides, you’re just starting to see him again after five years, that would absolutely put him in a weird place between comforting someone who was once his friend, and backing up his life-long best friend.

You jolt a bit when you feel a warm palm envelope your hand, his thumb gently rubbing across your knuckles. Looking back at him, he gives you an all too familiar look. One that can make you just pour out everything you’re feeling right at that second. It’s a horrifying technique he has. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you feel like shit. I should’ve been more considerate. I’m sorry.” He apologizes with a soothing intonation. Again, it’s making you feel warm. “It’s a hard situation, I could never know exactly what you’re going through. but…I care about you, Y/N. I always have, even without Satoru’s involvement. So, I’ll do better and not overwhelm you.”

Damn it, Suguru. Now you’re making me feel bad! Not trusting yourself with words, you meekly nod, slowly pulling your hand out his grasp. You miss the way his eyes dart down to his now empty grip, a small downward twitch to his lip that he expertly hides. “I should go back to work, I’m assuming you do too.” You stand on wobbly feet, giving him one last lingering gaze. “On the house, by the way….yeah, bye.”

Suguru watches you disappear behind the curtains, a small pit expanding in his gut. He pushes it away without thought, sighing to himself as he stands and exits the cafe. He walks down the sidewalk to his blacked out 2025 Mustang GT parked on the street. Getting in with a heavy head that’s full of all kinds of emotions. Some he doesn’t try to acknowledge, but the ones he does, it’s all worry and concern. He really doesn’t see how this situation can somehow turn around. Maybe you two will have a very mature and calm conversation when you cross paths.

He almost laughs to himself when he begins driving. Calm? Mature? Yeah, right. How do you have a calm conversation about hiding a kid for five years? Not to mention, you and Satoru are equally stubborn; it used to be so infuriating for him.

Suguru had patience, a lot of it actually. But you two tended to test that. Although, he would always forgive one of you the quickest. Cough, cough. You. It was like you had this weird thing about you that made the people around you just…like you.

His grip tightens on the wheel, biting his lip. He gets to a red light, thumb tapping on the material. Damn it all.

There’s a ringing that emits from the car’s speakers, looking at his touch screen to see the familiar name. Using this as a distraction, he answers. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice sounds out. “Where are you? Thought you were paying for my lunch.”

He huffs, eyes rolling, and moving the car forward once the light turns green. “I never agreed to that.”

“Sure you did,” Shoko replies, exhaling a breath. She must be smoking. “Anyway, hurry up. I’m already waiting outside. I thought Satoru was coming, is he gonna be late again?”

Yeah, no. “I don’t think he’s coming anymore.”

“Why not?” Shoko asks.

Suguru exhales heavily, turning the street towards the meet-up spot with his friend. “Some shit happened, I don’t think he’s doing good.”

Shoko pauses, adjusting her phone in hand. “What happened?”

Suguru too stops, completely forgetting how Shoko has no idea about what has transpired in the past couple of days. “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

Satoru has never been surprised before, not technically. He’s a smart man with quick instincts and a good foresight, it’s like he can always tell when something is going to happen, before it happens. Even for birthday parties, his perception and people reading skills are great, he knows when someone’s lying or not telling the full truth.

In short, he knows a lot of things.

But, what he didn’t expect was for 1) even hearing your name ever again after the breakup, and 2) you have a son, his son. A son he had not one goddamn clue about. The only person who’s ever been able to throw him off his game is you.

Even back when you two dated, there were moments where you’d either say or do things that would make him pause for a second and think how unlikely that was of you. He knew you’d lie sometimes, small white lies weren’t foreign to him because he did it too. But, he never thought you’d deliberately keep something like this from him.

And to top it off, if Suguru never saw you by chance that day, would you have ever even told him?

Now that really fucking pisses him off.

When Satoru is mad, everyone else’s day is ruined. When he’s mad, you can see it in his face, his body, how he’s just barely holding himself back. It’s even more scary when Satoru is known as the laid-back, playful and unserious type of man. So when he’s mad, almost no one in the office wants to make him even angrier, let alone be around him.

He’s barely slept a total of ten hours within the past two days, mind keeping him awake. He’s trying to not imagine the image of you holding a boy who looks like him because he’s already broken one too many pairs of glasses and the thought alone makes him infuriated. He sees a blinding white flash of betrayal, hurt, confusion, and anger.

He doesn’t mean to take it out on his employees, but their feelings are not on his list of priorities.

He has a son.

A son who’s five, apparently.

Five whole years of being kept in the dark, not even being blessed with a smidge of information about his offspring. While he was off fucking women, having fun, dreading about taking over his father’s business, you were god knows where, changing fucking diapers and losing sleep. And for what? Were you that fucking scared to tell him?

Oh, he’s so going to rip you a new one when he sees you.

But, he’s still not sure if he wants to do that. Afraid of what might happen, he’d rather not blow up on you, but can you blame him if he does?

He just found out he has a secret love child from a woman he knew years ago and know he’s expected to act like everything is normal in this boring fucking meeting?

Not to mention, if his father finds out, he’s not sure what will happen. If anyone else finds out, for that matter. If anything, he needs to get a reign over this messy situation before he’s allowing anyone to know.

“Mr. Gojo? What do you think?”

At the sudden mention of his name, he snaps back into focus. Eyes flickering over to the bald-headed man who currently stands in front of the table of other withering men, the screen projector displaying a multitude of different statistical data. The man falters slightly, his grip tightening on the laser pointer as Gojo’s eyes land on him

Shit. He has no idea what they were even talking about. “About?” He clears his throat, appearing nonchalant, though the tight hold on the ballpoint pen says otherwise, the faint click of it opening and closing the only indication of his simmering irritation

The room feels colder, quieter.

The man clears his throat nervously. “The expansion plan... into the Asia-Pacific region. Whether you think it’s viable in the current climate.”

Gojo leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his pen continues its faint, rhythmic clicks. His expression is unreadable, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he lets the silence stretch a moment too long. “And you need my opinion on this?” he says finally, his tone polite but tinged with condescension.

The bald man shifts on his feet, adjusting his glasses. “W-We... wanted your insight, given your, uh, experience overseeing the European division.”

“Right,” Gojo says, dragging the word out just enough to make the man squirm. He tilts his head, his icy blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, if I’d been paying attention, I’d probably say something about how overly cautious you all seem to be. But that’s just a guess.”

The bald man blanches, stammering, “O-Overly cautious? We’ve taken every factor into account—”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Gojo cuts in smoothly, his voice softening just enough to disarm the growing panic in the man’s voice. “I’m just wondering if maybe all those ‘factors’ are holding you back. Are we leaders, or are we playing it safe like everyone else?” His eyes flicker briefly over the rest of the table, daring anyone to challenge him.

The bald man hesitates, then nods quickly, his nervous energy palpable. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Mr. Gojo. I’ll revisit the projections to—”

“No need,” Gojo interrupts again, flashing a faint, humorless smile. “I trust you’ll figure it out. Unless you think I shouldn’t.”

The man practically trips over his words in an effort to assure him. “No, no, of course not. I’ll make the adjustments immediately.”

“Perfect,” Gojo says, the finality in his tone dismissing the topic entirely. He shifts his attention to the projector screen, the numbers and graphs blurring together as his thoughts drift.

The room eventually moves on, the hum of conversation resuming. But Gojo doesn’t miss the quick glances from across the table, the subtle unease lingering in the air.

He taps the pen against the table, his jaw tightening. It’s taking everything in him not to snap, not to let the weight of the fact that his ex-girlfriend is a filthy fucking person seep through the cracks.

Let them sweat. It’s the only thing keeping him entertained today.

The minute the awful meeting of ifs and hesitant decisions is over, he’s pushing out his chair, being the first one to leave the haunted room. It’s a bad mistake on his end, because his secretary, Aiko, is on his ass. “Mr. Gojo, your father is waiting for you in your office.”

Great, as if things couldn’t get any fucking better. He holds back a remark, gruffing out. “For?”

“He didn’t say, sir. He just wanted me to tell you to see him as soon as the meeting finished.”

He really, really doesn’t want to see his father right now. The two were too alike, constantly butting heads which only ended in a harsh set of insults being tossed around, mingled with occasional threats of “never passing the company down to someone as idiotic as you”. His father is bluffing, of course. He has no other person to pass it down to, with Satoru being the oldest and only son of his father’s. His long legs easily lead him to the doors of his office, to which he hesitates. Taking in a big breath, before opening the doors and closing them soon after. “What is it?” he asks, walking over to sit in his chair, leaning back comfortably.

His father, Yamato Gojo, the current CEO of the Gojo Group, who sits leisurely on the black leather coach stands up to position himself across from his son. Arms crossed and the permanently etched frown on his face. “Why didn’t you come to the dinner yesterday? There were very important people there you needed to meet. I texted and called you.”

Why didn’t he go? Can he really just say “sorry dad, I was stressing about this shithole I’ve found myself in”. No, he can’t. Instead, he shrugs and brushes his father off. “I was already busy.”

“Busy with what? What’s more important than networking?”

“A lot of things, actually.”

Yamato dislikes that answer quite a lot, frown seemingly deepening, regarding his son with another usual disapproving look. “Satoru, this is serious. They were expecting you and you embarrassed me. I won’t let this happen again, when I say you need to be somewhere, you be there. No if, ands, or buts. You’re pissing me off.”

How ironic of him to say that considering he’s having the exact same effect of Satoru. He isn’t scared of his father, hell no. But he does know to pick and choose his battles. And with the way his mind is completely scrambled right now, he forces himself to intake a huge breath of air. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I’ll be there next time. Happy?”

“Only after you prove it.” Like father, like son. Satoru hates how his father always seems to want to get the last word in. But his father hates how he does the exact same.

Throughout the entirety of his shift, up until he clocks out of work and walks to his designated parking spot which houses his white 2025 Mercedes-Benz SL-Class. Driving back to his high rise penthouse on autopilot, his thoughts zeroed in on one person only. Or well, two people.

Satoru wasn’t ever sure he wanted to be a father. He knew it was expected of him, but so many people had such high expectations of him, it became exhausting. Too exhausting. Does he even have a right to call himself a father to a child he never knew, a child who probably doesn’t even know him?

His right hand reaches for his phone, calling a number without taking his eyes off the road. It answers on the first ring, but Satoru doesn’t give him the chance to respond. “Do you know where she lives?”

There’s a falter, hearing Suguru’s deep breath come out on the other end. “No, I don’t. And nice to hear from you too.”

“I don’t have time for your sarcasm right now.” He stops at a red light, using his left hand to rub the crease between his furrowed brows. “Do you know anything? Her number? Where she works? Where did you see her so I can go over?”

“Satoru, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to go meet up with her again. You’re obviously not in the right mind space and I don’t want you two to—“

“I’ll argue with her all I want, I have that goddamn right to.” Satoru grits out, interrupting his friend before he has the chance to spew out more shit he’d rather not listen to right now. “Answer me.”

In Suguru’s mind, he knows if he gives Satoru even the tiniest bit of information regarding your whereabouts, he’ll storm over there and probably say things he doesn’t mean. Satoru tends to think emotionally in very dire situations, a bad habit of his. Still, although he knows his best friend should be angered by this situation, Suguru doesn’t want to involve himself. More than he has. After speaking with you, he’s come to the conclusion that you’ll reach out to Satoru soon. Considering the fact that he already knows. “I don’t know, I saw her at a grocery store, but she was just shopping.”

“Fuck,” Satoru groans, moving his car forward again. “Well how the hell do I—“

He’s cut off by a small vibrate to his phone, a message. When he looks down, the screen is overtaken by a new call coming in from Himari. Honestly, she’s the last person he wants to talk to right now.

“What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, after noticing the small beat of silence from the other end of the phone.

What isn’t wrong? “Gotta go, call you later.”

“Sat—“

Satoru ends the call, picking up the new one. “Hey.”

“Baby,” Himari’s light voice fills his ears, sighing in relief. “Can you come pick me up? I’m at the mall but the tires of my driver’s car popped.”

He’d rather not, but Satoru has found out that it’s been quite difficult to say no to his girlfriend. So, he puts his own internal and external battles to the side, making a right turn and exhaling. “The mall?”

“Yes, baby. Thank you so much.”

He hums back in response. “Be there in ten, wait outside.” Once again, he hangs up and a suffocating silence fills his car. Hands tightening around the wheel, he reels himself in with a big inhale, then exhales. He can’t show these sorts of emotions in front of the woman, for she’ll no doubt question and question about what’s wrong, which will then lead to an argument. He doesn’t need arguments.

As Satoru sees the mall in the distance, he’s overrun by the sudden determination. The determination to find you and meet his son.

“Just one more question, Koji. Then let’s eat dinner, how does that sound?”

The young boy groans in annoyance, the math work of simple addition problems laid out in front of him. He hates math, almost as much as you, excelling in other subjects like English and Art. “But Mama……” he drags the words out in a childish manner.

Plating two plates of tonkatsu chicken with curry, one plate smaller than the other, you turn to your son who now has a pout on his face. You resist the urge to pinch his cheeks. “You can do it, you did the other ones so well.”

Sitting next to him, you look over at his workbook. Just one more problem. It’s a problem consisting of three numbers, 5, 23, and 6. Simple in your eyes, but a disastrous monstrosity in the eyes of a five-year-old. “Mama will help you, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.” Koji grumbles, reluctantly grabbing his red pencil again.

Times like these you cherish. Sure, it’s mundane and not very exciting. But it’s the little things that matter most to you. Helping your kids with homework, helping them learn to ride a bike, tie their laces, it’s all wonderful experiences from your perspective. Proof of the fact that your chubby little baby isn’t very little anymore, growing into his own person. Although, the more he grows, the more he’s starting to resemble his father. It’s scary at times, when he looks at you and you get random flashbacks.

Eating dinner and washing up is another thing you love. After such a hectic day, you just want to unwind with your son. You had put in your PTO for the convenience store a month in advance; after a particularly hard month. Finishing at 5:00pm, like most people do, is a breath of fresh air.

You let Koji tire himself out in the tub, then the living room, to which he has Cars playing (his favorite movie at the time). He plays with his own small set of matching cars, while you sweep the kitchen. Your eyes flicker over to your phone that lays face up on the island, a bubbling sensation forming in your being, one of contemplation. You wonder to yourself, would you call Satoru? You know his number by heart, he most likely hasn’t changed it.

After the breakup, you cut off all contact with him and his friends, even choosing to get a new phone and new number, just to avoid any possibly drives of texting him, or to avoid him texting you. You quite literally wanted to erase every memory about him.

Kinda hard to do that when you’re raising his carbon copy.

After another blind minute, you pause your sweeping and grab your cellular device. You’re about to grab Suguru’s business card from your purse when a sudden question hits you.

How was he able to call you earlier at work if you had never given your number to him in the first place?

Your brows knit together while you come up with any possible solutions and reasoning to that thought, coming up blank. Seriously, how did he call you? Without thinking, you go to your recent calls, pressing the first one, and raising your phone to your ear.

It rings for about a second, before Suguru’s coaxing voice follows. “Hello?”

“How did you get my number?”

“What?”

“How did you get my number? I didn’t give it to you at the store.”

You can practically hear the way he’s trying to formulate an answer. Coming up with a shitty one. “I just…guessed.”

You say nothing, your eyes narrowing on a certain spot on the blank white walls of your kitchen.

Another second passes before he gives in, too easily. “Okay, okay. Look, I don’t want to sound creepy or anything but—“

“Were you stalking me?”

“What?! No! Of course not, Y/N. I’d never do that.”

“Then tell me how you got my number without me telling you.”

He sighs. “…I have a friend. He’s in the law enforcement and I…may have asked around. But before you get any ideas, I was worried. You just fell off the face of the Earth and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You can’t stop the huff that leaves you. Should you feel complimented that he went out of his own way to do all this or invaded? Maybe both. Honestly, you did that all for a reason. And he blatantly went behind yours, probably everyone’s, back to get some information on you in a shady way. Isn’t that illegal or something? “Suguru, when people do that, it doesn’t mean they want to be found.”

“I know, Y/N. But I was worried, so was Shoko and Satoru—“

“Does he know my number too?” You ask, already feeling your panic run up your veins, boy straightening into a stiff position.

“No, no, he doesn’t. Just me.” He quickly relieves you.

You guess that’s somewhat better. Although you still feel mildly annoyed at Suguru for what he did. “Is that all you know?” The way he doesn’t respond immediately makes you feel even more frustrated, jaw clenching.

“I….” He lets out a heavy breath. “No, it’s not.”

“What else do you fucking know?”

He winces at your now harsh tone of voice, though he knows it’s all expected. “It wasn’t on purpose, I just wanted your number, I swear. But when you’re looking for that kind of stuff, other things pop up like…address and…yeah.”

If only he could see your expression right now. “You know where I fucking live?”

“Yes, Y/N….”

Okay, now your privacy is very invaded. You have never really gotten angry with Suguru, let alone get into an argument. He always knew when to stop, what not to say to make someone else feel worse, but did he just get fucking dumb after all these years? “…are you serious?” You know he is, not even giving him the chance to answer your rhetorical question. “Fuck you, Suguru. I can’t believe you—you completely—I don’t even know what to tell you right now.”

You can hear the guilt in his voice, tone softening. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I had the best intentions, I was never going to visit you or call you without your specific permission to.”

“Did I give you permission to call me earlier?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Exactly.” With another scoff, you bite your lip, picking the correct words to voice out. You wouldn’t say you’re a word vomit person, usually. But right now, you just feel…slightly weirded out. All this time, you thought you had solitude. But Suguru knew where you were this entire time? ��Goodbye, Suguru.”

“Y/N, wai—“

“Don’t. If I need you, I’ll tell you. But right now I don’t want to speak to you.”

He pauses, feeling his gut tighten. Nonetheless, he nods and mutters. “Okay, I’ll give you space. Just please know I’m sorry and I really didn’t have bad intentions.”

Seems like this is the second time today he’s apologizing to you. You don’t like it. Without another word, you end the call, putting your phone back on the hard surface of the island. Jesus Christ. What the hell is going on, seriously?

One minute you’re stressing about getting evicted, then you have to worry about Satoru somehow running into you, and now you find out Suguru has just casually known your address all these years. Why is all of this deciding to be sprung on you all at once? Out of no where? The world must be punishing you for every unholy deed you’ve done in your life; it really doesn’t seem fair. At all. Can’t things just go right for once in your life? You just want to go at least a day without external stressors fucking you over in every way possible.

Of course, you’re unlucky. That’s just how things have always been for you. The universe has a twisted sense of humor, and you’re the punchline to every cruel joke. The thought of Suguru knowing your address sends a cold, uncomfortable shiver down your spine. What else does he know? What else has he been hiding?

The questions swirl in your mind, each one more suffocating than the last. You sit down heavily on the edge of your worn-out couch, its cushions sagging beneath you as though they, too, are tired of carrying your weight. You bury your face in your hands, the skin of your palms rough against your cheeks, and take a deep, shaky breath.

Satoru (and Suguru). Their names alone bring up a storm of emotions you can barely keep bottled up. You’ve worked so hard to keep them, and everything they represent, in the past. Yet here they are, forcing their way back into your life like unwelcome ghosts.

You glance at the stack of overdue bills on the coffee table, mocking you with their bold red lettering. As if you didn’t already know you were drowning. Maybe it’s time to stop fighting the tide.

You watch Koji focus on the bright screen, moving his toy cars in unison with the movie. Willing yourself to worry about the now, to convince yourself that you’re not done, that there’s still some fight left in you.

However, that seems to be proving harder each and every single day.

It’s a chilly, but sunny winter day. The sidewalk filled with other people going about their day. You’re wearing a black trenchcoat, along with a scarf. Hands stuffed into the pockets of your coat as little puffs of white air leave your mouth, a stark piece of evidence of how cold it is today. The heels of your shoes clacking down the concrete, making your way to the familiar cafe of Latte Lounge.

Saturdays are supposed to be happy days, a final breath of fresh air after the business of the weekdays prior. The day where people enjoy Mother Nature and what she has to offer, a day of sleeping in, a day of no responsibilities.

A woman like you has no Saturdays. It’s like every day is a cold, hard Monday.

You finally spot the cafe, its large, glass windows giving you a sneak peek to the liveliness that resides inside. Of course, most people do choose to go to cafes on Saturdays. Especially this early in the morning. Walking in, the small bell above the door dings. The workers behind the counter greet you; while you give them a half greeting back, your eyes scan the environment. It takes a few seconds, but you see Mr. Ito sitting at a table for two in the corner.

You prepare yourself with a heavy sigh, forcing your feet to maneuver you over to the man who smiles and stands once he sees you approaching. “Ms. Y/N, good morning.”

“Good morning.” You’re a little caught off guard when he takes the empty seat from across from him and pulls it out, a silent move of help. Sitting down, he pushes your chair in then walks back over to his own. He laces his fingers together on top of the table. “Get whatever you’d like, on me, remember?”

“Oh, I’m not very thirsty right now.”

“No, please. It’s my pleasure, especially for meeting with me so early this morning.”

A part of you wants to deny his niceness. But, he did cause you to lose money you could’ve still had to spare if you didn’t have to call in Sana to watch Koji. And well, coffee always makes you feel better. “Just an iced vanilla latte.”

He nods and stands up. “Great, I’ll be back.”

Watching him go up to the counter and order, you look back down at your lap. Koji misbehaving sounds odd, he’s always been an obedient kid. Of course he has his moments, but he understands when to listen and when to goof around. A few minutes later, Mr. Ito sits back down with two cups of coffee, sliding yours over to you. You thank him and sip. Hm, not too bad.

There’s a small silence that flows over you two as you taste your coffees, but you wait for him to speak first. He did schedule this little meeting, after all. He clears his throat. “So, Ms. Y/N, again thank you for meeting with me.”

You nod. “Of course, Mr. Ito. Anything for Koji.”

Mr. Ito smiles, his hand waving you off. “Oh please, call me Haruto.”

Already trying to get on a first name basis. Simply nodding again, you raise an eyebrow for him to continue.

“Anywho, like I said earlier this week, I have concerns about Koji’s behavior. You see, he’s had about six instances where he doesn’t listen to me when I say it’s time for silent reading time. I understand he’s a talkative child, but he usually does not act out like this. Would you happen to have any idea as to why he is behaving this way so suddenly?”

“No, I don’t. Koji listens well, and he hasn’t come to me specifically about getting in trouble.” You respond, lips pursing.

Mr. Ito nods in understanding. “I can assume so, but his behavior has started affecting his peers, as well.”

You sit up straighter in your chair. “In what way?”

“Well,” Mr. Ito tilts his head, seemingly recounting the times Koji has misbehaved. “The students who sit around him have started coming to me, complaining about how Koji doesn’t leave them alone. They feel as if he’s taking away from their learning.”

What? Not to mention that that sounds quite…interesting for other five year olds to say, but no way Koji has been that bad. Maybe it’s your bias as his parent, but this is brand new to you, very brand new. Even when he’s home, Koji always insists on doing his homework before playing or eating dinner. So really, you’re not sure how to react to this surge of new information about your own child. “I really don’t know, Mr. Ito. I mean, Koji is a great boy, he listens very well to me and the other adults in his life. I’m just as shocked as you are right now.”

Mr. Ito leans back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “I’m not doubting your parenting skills. Koji’s clearly a bright and energetic boy. Maybe too energetic for some of his classmates to handle.” His tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent there, something you can’t quite place. “It’s possible he’s just seeking attention in ways that might not be obvious at home.”

You nod slowly, though his words don’t sit right with you. Koji doesn’t come across as attention-seeking at all. If anything, he’s a bit reserved until he’s comfortable around someone. “I’ll talk to him tonight and see if I can figure out what’s going on. Maybe there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mr. Ito says, his smile deepening as he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. The movement feels deliberate, like he’s closing some invisible gap between the two of you. “You’ve always struck me as a very attentive parent.”

The compliment lands awkwardly, and you find yourself straightening your back again, instinctively pulling away from his lingering gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Ito,” you say curtly, steering the conversation back to its purpose. “I just want to make sure Koji’s doing well and that his behavior isn’t affecting his classmates.”

“Of course,” he says smoothly, not missing a beat. “And I’m here to help however I can. We could even set up regular meetings if you’d like, to make sure we stay on the same page about Koji’s progress.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you say, your polite tone edging into firmness. “But I do appreciate the offer.”

His smile falters for a brief moment, but he quickly recovers, leaning back in his chair as though he hadn’t just been testing the waters. “Understood. Please, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything. My door is always open.”

You nod, feeling a distinct shift in the atmosphere—one you’re eager to step away from. “Well, are there any other concerns I should know about, Mr. Ito?”

He looks like he wants to say more, but decides against it. “No, Ms. Y/N. None at all, thank you for coming out.”

“Thank you for the coffee, have a nice day.” You reply, wasting no time in standing up, grabbing your drink in one hand and bag in the other. Though, his voice speaking again causes you to stop.

“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Ito’s voice stops you just as you push your chair back. You glance at him over your shoulder, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “I really hope I didn’t come across as too forward earlier. I’m just...invested in making sure Koji has everything he needs to thrive.”

You offer a polite smile, settling the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Of course, Mr. Ito. I appreciate that.”

He smiles, but there’s a pause before he continues. “It’s rare, you know, to see a parent as involved as you are. It’s refreshing.”

The compliment makes you pause, and you clutch your coffee cup a little tighter. “Well, Koji’s my world,” you reply simply, brushing off the remark.

“As he should be.” Mr. Ito leans back in his seat, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his own drink. “But I imagine that must get exhausting sometimes, especially since you seem to handle everything on your own.” His tone is casual, but there’s a softness to it, as if he’s inviting you to confide in him.

You blink, his words catching you off guard. Is he fishing for something? “It’s not always easy,” you admit cautiously, “but that’s just part of being a parent.”

“True,” he says with a small nod, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long. “Still, you shouldn’t hesitate to lean on the people around you when you need to. It’s not a sign of weakness, you know.”

You stiffen slightly, unsure how to interpret his words. They seem innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flickers toward you feels... calculated. “I manage just fine, thank you,” you reply, keeping your tone light but firm.

“Of course,” he says smoothly, raising his hands slightly as if to placate you. “You strike me as someone who handles things with grace. It’s admirable.”

You glance at your watch, eager to end the conversation. “Well, I should get going. I’ll talk to Koji about everything we discussed.”

“Of course.” Mr. Ito stands as you do, his smile as steady as ever. “Thank you again for meeting me. And...if you ever want to talk more, even just about life in general, I’d be happy to listen.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, and you force another polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. Have a good day.”

“I can walk you to your car, I’m heading out as well.” He quickly suggests.

You shake your head almost instantly, smile feeling more narrow. “No need, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“But I—“

“Thank you again, but I really must go.” You cut him off, feeling your patience run thin and the desire to be cordial and polite stretching too much. You nod stiffly and turn around to briskly walk out the cafe. However, just as you do so, you collide into something, or someone.

Your open-lidded coffee fumbles a bit in your hand, quickly steadying it. Though it does manage to stain the white shirt of the person you just bumped into. Just great. You hold back a wince and apologize. “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t—“

Your words leave you, your breath feeling like it’s been stolen straight from your chest. Every hair on your body stands up straight, your heart falling straight to your ass like you’ve just hit the biggest drop on a rollercoaster. You know that feeling when you question if something is real or not, pleading with yourself and every deity watching that it’s not? Well, that’s exactly how you feel right now.

It feels like a spotlight has been shone on you without your consent and you suddenly want to throw up. Because as your eyes have moved up to profusely apologize to the stranger, a bucket of water filled with nostalgia and past memories drowns you.

The bright blue, unmistakable irides stare back down at you. A million memories play on repeat, but one thing’s for certain.

The past has never felt so close, and you suddenly want to erase it all and scream.

a/n: the dreaded reunion is here! thank you for reading and the tremendous support! <3 stay tuned for next chap, sorry if yall thought these two were boring, chapter 3 will be getting more into it

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins @sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited @duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee @devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts

[jyoongim]

Hear me out. I can't be the only one that wants to fuck Al's demon form. Like not just the black eyed tentacle gig, I'm talking full form like the size and all 😭 I can take it I swear, Al (narrator: she could not)

Title: A Reminder To All…

Themes: its giving monster fuc but like oof, demon!form Alastor, tentacles, established relationship, rough sex, growling, blood, possessive behavior, antlers, animalistic behaviors.

It was a rather quiet afternoon at the Hazbin Hotel.

You were up in the radio tower straightening a few things while Alastor was out doing gods know what 

You decided that since you had cleaned up most of the place that you would take a stroll through town as some down time.

You hummed a tune as you passed many sinners out and about. Your stroll led pass the digital shop. You slowed as you noticed a crowd gathered outside a Voxtech store.

There were multiple tvs playing things in the windows and what caught your attention was the deals they had going on.

You bit your lip. Oh it couldnt hurt to window shop right?

You entered and was immediately overwhelmed by all the fancy tech.

why did hell need modern tech you had no idea.

A shiny pink camera caught your attention.

And it was cheap.

You did need a new camera. It would help with advertisement and to show the progress of the hotel you thought as you happily paid for it and went about your way.

what you didn’t know was that Vox had been tracking you the moment you left the hotel.

that camera of yours was now his gateway into seeing what Alastor was up to.

Once back at the hotel you pulled out your shiny new purchase.

you turned it on and walked around filming a bit.

You checking the footage to check out the quality when you heard a record scratch

”what is that my dear?” 

You jumped at the sound of Alastor’s voice and spun around holding the camera

His eyes narrowed on it and quirked his brow at you, airing for an explanation.

”Well Al I-I just thought that the hotel could use a camera to help with promoting. We can record our progress. Now you don’t have to do all the work.” You said with a nervous smile, hoping he wouldn’t toss it.

He walked closer to you, mainly keeping his eyes on the tech.

”and where did you get such a frivolous thing?” 

you gulped “At the v-voxtech store”

His ever-present smile tightened before he shrugged “fine if you think it’ll help”

you breathed a sigh of relief and happily went about your way testing it out.

Unaware of the growing shadows emitting from him.

after spending a few hours getting the hang of your new device, you decided to call it a night and put your camera on your nightstand as you got ready for bed.

You shivered slightly under your cover, grumbling you furrowed further to seek some warmth.

why the hell was it so cold?

you shifted again in bed to feel a heavy weight on top of you.

your eyes flew open and you were met with a very frightening sight.

Alastor.

In his demon form.

Your breath got caught in your throat “A-Al?”

He tilted his head, smile wide and sharp “Sleeping well my dear?” His voice was staticky and distorted.

you were so confused.

you hardly EVER saw Alastor upset, especially to the point were he was in his demon form.

“Why is that in your room dear?” He hissed out, jutting his chin to your camera.

You tilted your head confused at his question.

he was angry about a damn camera?

A clawed hand was at your throat.

”I allow many things dear, but this unattractive piece of scrap in your room? That is where I draw the line”

You let out a squeak as your clothes suddenly disappeared and covers ripped away.

”A-Al?!”

Your hands were quickly restrained by his shadows and your legs were spreaded to welcome him closer.

when the hell did he undress?

You felt the faint ghost touch of a tentacle slide against your cunt, teasing your clit. You let out a soft moan.

”Already soaking dearest?” He hummed amused.

You felt the weight of his dick slap against your cunt.

your eyes widened he wasn’t going to…

”Alastor w-wait! I c-can’t!”

A long tongue sweated the side of your face

”But you will darling” and with that he slammed into you.

Your body seized at the sudden intrusion. You let out a cry that was silenced by a tentacle wrapping around your mouth.

Alastor rutted into you, growling and snarling.

Your eyes faintly drifted to the camera by your bed.

A blinking red dot turned on and off.

Alastor gave you a rather harsh thrust.

”eyes on me dear”

you whined loudly, trying to shift your body to accommodate to his harsh thrusting. Your eyes drifted to the top of his head.

Antlers.

you felt your fingers itch with the need to find purchase on them.

you gave a tug at the shadows and huffed, making little grabbing motions hoping he would get the hint.

he granted you grace and your hands immediately flew to his antlers.

He let outa low growl and sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

With his dick hitting that delious spot inside you, you could feel him bottoming out.

You were flipped onto your stomach, facing the camera.

the shadow around your mouth disappeared and a claw hand found your tongue.

”put on a show Mon cher” You felt him flush against you.

Moans and whines filled the room as he  pounded your cunt.

A high pitch whine left your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him.

you were gonna cum soon.

”A-Al-la-stor Ah!” Your eyes crossed as your body tensed and twitched from your orgasm. He let out a deep growl and quickened his pace.

Did he get bigger?

you were suddenly face to face with him.

Your noses brushing against each other as he sought after his own release.

Your arms wrapped around his elongated neck and a hand found one of his ears.

you tugged.

Static ran through your body as he slapped his lips on yours and slammed his hips into you, purring as he filled you with his cum.

you whimpered as your legs were finally released and dropped.

Alastor was breathing heavy as he reached over to the camera

”hope you enjoyed the show old pal” he laughed before destroying the camera.

you were drifting to sleep as you watched him transform back to normal.

”sleep well my dear” was the last thing you heard as he tucked you into his side, humming a soft tune with a wide smile.

He gave a reminder.

Dont fuck with the Radio Demon.

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

I. Heal the Heart 

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, nescio. Sed fieri sentior et excrucior.  I love you and I hate you.  Why I do this, I have no idea.  But I feel it happening and I’m in agony. [Catullus]

Following the conquest of Egypt and its incorporation into the Roman Empire, there was a growing interest in its ancient culture. Over time, many in Egypt began to express a desire for greater autonomy and control over their own affairs. Dissatisfaction with Roman control over Egypt became part of the Egyptian psyche.

This is precisely why, immediately following the death of Emperor Septimius Severus, preparations for revolt began in Egypt. His emperor sons, Caracalla and Geta, were mainly focused on quarreling with each other, drinking, and enjoying themselves, while their subjects faced starvation. They organized games, watched gladiators fight, and took pride in their activities. Even when informed of the revolt in Egypt, they continued their indulgent ways, showing little care for anything beyond their own pleasures and daily pursuits.

The Egyptians were, of course, aware of their limitations; they knew they could not be as strong a soldier as their emperor father. They were confident that the day would come when, with the help of the Greeks, they would overthrow the Roman governors in Egypt. After all, they had been preparing for this since the death of Severus. Among them were also Jews, all eager to establish the sovereignty of ancient Egypt. However, there was one crucial factor they did not consider or pay much attention to.

General Marcus Justus Acacius.

They say, you can feel the ground shake when he walks on it. He makes his opponents feel certain of their own death at the very moment he draws his sword. A daring commander with few who could stand up to him. It is unclear whether this is an exaggeration or not, but it is still rumored that he cut a lion in half in the Colosseum.

A beast in every sense of the word.

More than that, he is a leader who manages his legions very well and spurs them on to achieve success during the war, a man who has not yet tasted a failure and has well-earned the title of general in every way.

Since it was obvious that no one else could succeed in suppressing the rebellion, he was immediately sent to the region with the intervention of his Empresss Julia Domna, the mother of the two emperors.

Just like she guessed, he had succeeded in putting down the rebellion; of course, no doubt, as soon as his name rang through, the rebels, along with all the inhabitants of Egypt, knew that they were already defeated.

Some were forced to surrender, those who resisted and fled were found and killed by the Roman soldiers, but not all. The general didn't kill the surrendered ones, he took them as captives which was pretty fair for a beast. In contrast to him, the ones who fled were not, they were so desperate that they didn't know what to do and they started attacking everything and everywhere like rabid dogs.

They even attempted to violate the laws of war and mapped out a plan to kill the General and his soldiers, and even all the medics, in the night at their camps. It was a suicide mission, but they were on the verge of success.

"Has anyone seen the General? He’s not in his tent!" A burly soldier entered, gripping his sword, which was stained with the blood of the rebel he had just killed. He quickly searched through all the tents, wearing a look of concern on his face.

The clinking of swords echoed in the darkness as the soldiers cut down the last remaining rebels to death with their swords.

Soon, the soldier ran to his General, relieved to see him, but he was wounded in the abdomen moments ago. As he gently pressed his hand to his injury, a small amount of blood emerged, shining like rubies under the moonlight as it dripped from between his strong fingers onto the grass. His attackers were no longer alive, they were all lying on the ground, were literally cut to ribbons. They attacked him in his sleep when he was wearing nothing but his tunic, catching him off guard. He nodded to the soldier, demanding assistance as his white tunic transformed into a crimson hue. He had been wounded many times before, countless times, but this was nothing like before and was undoubtedly the worst injury he had ever sustained. "I think I… got…," he groaned; it hurt much even when he spoke, feeling like beneath the wound, his blood was boiling. "…poisoned." These were the last words spilled from his lips before his enormous body slumping to his knees, collapse altogether to the ground.

The woman with waist-length with black hair was dragging you along with her as she walking across the meadow, you were struggled, couldn’t control your feet, as if the ground was sliding under. She had her hands outstretched at her sides, even though her back was turned, it was not difficult to see her smile by the sunlight reflecting the curve of her chin. She abruptly ceased her movement and bent down to gather a few herbs in a meadow. She plucked them, gathered them in her palms, and kissed them. You heard the whispers between her lips and the harmony of the wind rippling through your ears. It was clear that she was blessing these herbs. When she turned to you, you staggered backwards, hypnotized by her face, so beautiful, mesmerizing, her eyes hypnotizing yours, it was impossible to look away, no escape from them.

Perhaps even more surprising than anything else was that her face and eyes were identical to yours. It really was truly astonishing. She handed you the plants like they were rare jewelry. You could see her arms shone in the sun, and her skin looked like fine marble. It was impossible to believe that it could be human skin; it must have been that of a goddess, but why did her face resemble yours?

'Heal the heart, child,' her voice sang through the meadow like a gentle breeze. You couldn't move your lips, but she heard you anyway.

‘Heart?’

A warm wind blew, and the silhouette of the woman came closer, startling you. Her hazel eyes were turning green under the sun. As she slightly opens her lips, you locked your eyes on them and waited eagerly for the answer.

‘The heart of Rome,’ almost whispers, ‘Serve it,’ a little loud now like commanding, ‘Heal it...’ again whispers then gently puts the herbs on your hand.

A strong wind blew, and the silhouette of the woman danced with the wind. The sunny sky burst into a starry night as the wind embraced the silhouette and rose to the sky, to the stars. You felt the ground under your feet, but your eyes were drawn to the enchanting sky.

As the wind finally gave way to the silent night, you looked at the herbs you were holding in your hand. These kind of herbs you were used to seeing almost every day, but what you were not used to seeing was that they were sparkling like diamonds between your fingers. It was as if you could feel their healing power on your skin.

Abruptly, you heard the voice again, echoing across the meadow. Your ears were once more caressed, blessed, but this time, the words were different.

‘Cure him…’

You barely heard your name being called and your body was shaking, slowly opened your eyes, you saw a familiar but worried face.

‘Wake up, please, you need to get up now,’ the concern in the man's voice brought you back to reality, the effect of the dream disappearing like a cloud of dust between the stone walls and dissipating into the air.

‘Uncle?’

You had rarely seen this face of your uncle who had taken you in when you were an orphan, who cared for you, protected you and raised you well more than any other father or mother ever would.

You sat up from the firm mattress you were lying on, ‘I thought we were travelling tomorrow night?’

‘No, no, that's not why I woke you up,’ he put your big dark cloak over your head. ‘You need to hide.’

You were startled to hear shouting and footsteps coming from outside the wooden door of the room. This was not the sort of noise you would normally expect to hear in this Valetudinarium (hospital, clinic) at this late hour. 

‘What is going on?’ You rub your eyes with your fingers, trying to figure out the situation.

Your uncle tucked your hair deeper into your cloak.

'The Roman soldiers are gathering all the medici (psychians). I have to go with them.'

'Roman soldiers? I thought they left after they put down the rebellion, and slaughtered thousands. Besides, they must have a medicus in their camps, why would they-?'

He grabbed you by the shoulders, his anxiety evident.

'I heard that some rebellious individuals killed the Medici in their tents, and then-'

A soldier's voice was heard from one of the nearby rooms. You both turned your heads in that direction, startled, and then looked at each other again.

'Their general was targeted. The rebels attacked him in his sleep. He managed to fight back, but he was poisoned. Now, they want me to save him.'

“Poisoned? But Uncle, he might already be dead! If you can’t cure him, they’ll blame you or punish you!”

“Don’t think about that now. You need to hide. Remember, as a woman, you aren’t allowed to be here. You have to conceal yourself and wait for my return.”

The soldiers’ voices were heard nearby.

"No, I’ll come with you. If it’s aspis venom (a venomous snake found in the Nile region), we’ll use the same techniques as we did with the boy last time. It would take too long to make the antivenom alone. Let me help you."

"It’s too dangerous for you, my dearest, to go among the soldiers. Even if you wear men’s clothes, we can’t hide the beauty of your face."

You walked over to the cauldron in the fireplace and ran your hands over the soot that had accumulated beneath it.

"It worked before," you said, rubbing a bit of soot on your cheeks.

"That was only at the market. This time it’s more dangerous. I’d never forgive myself if I couldn’t protect you there."

"I was going to give this to you tomorrow, as I promised last time, but there's no time now. If anything happens to me, you will open it. Everything about your true family is in here."

You took the envelope from him with shaky hands. It had been sealed by the former emperor himself, and you wondered what was written inside.

Your uncle grabbed your shoulders and shook you to ensure you understood the importance of the letter. "No one should ever see this. Do you understand me? No one! After you open it, hide it. Do not let anyone see it. But don't lose it; hide it as if your life depends on it. You'll understand why."

You nodded firmly and swallowed hard, tucking the letter into the bag hanging around your neck. You hid it at the very bottom under the medicine bottles, causing them to rattle in the process.

"Aya, you’re going to have to choose," he said, looking at you intently before leaving the room.

"Choose what, uncle?"

"To run or to stay. It’ll all make sense when you read the letter," he said, glancing down the hall before grabbing your wrist. You were confused, but you knew you had to think about this later.

"We have to get out now; soldiers are outside. Quick!"

'I was going to give this to you tomorrow as I promised last time, but there's no time now. If anything happens to me, you will open it. Everything about your true family is in here.'

You took the envelope from him with shaking hands. The previous emperor himself had sealed it. You wondered what it meant.

Your uncle grabbed your shoulders and shook you, making sure you understood how important this letter was.

‘No one should ever see this. Do you understand me? No one! After you open it, hide it. Do not let anyone see it. But don't lose it, hide it like your life depends on it, you'll understand why.’

You nodded firmly and swallowed hard. You tucked the letter into the bag hanging around your neck and hid it at the very bottom under the medicine bottles, making them rattle in the process.

‘Aya, you’re going to have to choose,’ he looked at you before leaving the room.

‘Choose what uncle?’

‘To run or stay. It’ll make sense when you read the letter,’ he checked the hall and grabbed your wrist. You were so confused but you had to think about this later.

'We have to get out now, soldiers are outside, quick!'

The soldiers had gathered all the medici they could find at the army camp headquarters near the tents. There were seven of them, but they were unable to find a solution for the General's injury. As you and your uncle were next in line, a burly soldier of higher rank approached you both. You kept your head down, avoiding eye contact. Everyone was in a rush, nearly all mobilized to save the General's life. Your gender didn't matter to them at that moment. Just as you were about to follow your uncle into the tent, the soldier raised his hand to stop you.

‘Only the medicus.’

‘My aide, sir, let him in. He's as expert as I am.’

As your uncle is their last hope, he let you in but did not follow you inside, standing guard outside the tent. The General's squire stood next to him, looking at you with tears in his eyes. It was a heartbreaking sight. The sorrow had enveloped everything inside the tent, and you could feel it deep in your bones.

The General lay on a mattress in the west corner of the tent. He was unconscious, but you noticed his lips moving as if he were murmuring. You stepped forward to take a closer look at his face, which you had been so curious about.

His face was exactly as you had imagined, yet somehow different. He had numerous scars, as if he had been born with them, and his light brown skin embraced them. His mustache and beard were partially gray, and his nose and chin were perfectly shaped, as though Prometheus himself had spent extra time crafting this man. His face was stunning, causing your heart to race. You had never felt this way about any other man, though you had never had the opportunity to do so.

You were somewhat disappointed to see his eyes closed. You longed to know what they looked like and were eager to see his expression when he opened them. You were momentarily surprised by the desire to touch his face. For an instant, you forgot why you were there. Meanwhile, your uncle had picked up the sword with which the General had been wounded and was examining the blood on it. You moved over to help him, keeping one eye on the General, who lay there with his imposing build and half of the white tunic he wore stained red.

Your heart constricted with pain, and the dream you had came vividly to mind.

‘Cure him.’

"We need to check his wound!" Your uncle's loud voice startled you, and you squinted at him, feeling ashamed.

As your uncle gestured for you to come closer, you saw that the wound was not deep, but the skin around it was turning pale from the venom, and the edges were curling inward.

"He doesn't have much time. Let's start making the antivenom now," he said, swallowing hard. The situation was worsening, and you knew you had to cure him no matter what. Perhaps this was why the gods had shown you this in your dream; they had warned you in advance that your life depended on it.

The process of making the antivenom took slightly longer than you had anticipated, but you persevered admirably. Your uncle cleaned the wound to neutralize it while you sweated through your clothes. Finally, when the antivenom was ready, your uncle carefully applied the antidote to the wound, but he was exhausted, his fingers shaking. You stepped in to help despite feeling weary yourself. Your eyelids felt heavy, but you managed to see your task through to the end.

The soldier from earlier entered the tent to check on the situation. You bowed your head and stepped back.

"We've cleaned the wound, and once it's neutralized, we applied the antidote. We just need to wait now," your uncle informed him, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We need to give him some time and ensure he drinks water soon to avoid dehydration."

As the soldier examined the wound, you turned your head to look at the squire boy, who had been sobbing just moments ago but had now already fallen asleep. Poor boy, you thought.

The soldier then ordered you to leave the tent and wait outside.

You felt your arms and legs go numb with fatigue and collapsed to the ground, sitting cross-legged and trying hard to stay awake. Your uncle was in the same state, but he still struggled to resist sleep. In the end, he couldn't keep his eyelids from closing.

You woke up to the sound of soldiers shouting and arguing. Turning your head, you couldn't make out what they were disagreeing about, but their noise was overwhelming.

"You better go in and make sure the General drinks some water. He needs to stay hydrated," your uncle said firmly, likely keeping an eye on the soldiers outside.

The tent was empty except for the General. A soldier from earlier was outside, reassuring the other soldiers. You approached the General to check on him. His forehead was covered in sweat, and his body was fighting off venom. You quickly grabbed a damp cloth and pressed it gently against his forehead. Then you touched his lips with your thin, fragile fingers. An intense feeling grew inside you. As a secret medicus, you had touched the faces and bodies of many men and women to heal them. However, touching this man's face and lips felt different from the others.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself. This was nonsensical.

You opened his lips carefully and dipped a rag into the fresh water in a copper pot. You pressed it against the General's dry, pale lips, squeezing it gently through his mouth.

After doing this several times, you decided you had done enough. Just as you were about to withdraw your hand, the General's strong hand suddenly grasped yours with a firm grip. You were shocked and winced in pain, causing you to open your hand with pressure, and the rag fell to the ground.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you gazed at his face. He opened those eyes you had been so curious about and looked at you with a cold, calculating stare, squeezing your wrist so tightly that you felt it might break at any moment. You suppressed a scream and moaned in pain. 'Sir, I'm trying to help you!' You sounded as if you were crying, then he groaned in pain, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.The effort must have exhausted him. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he breathed quickly.

When he finally released your wrist, you threw yourself backwards for dear life, rubbed your wrist with your other hand and stroked it, praying to the Gods to take the pain away. You could have sworn to Jupiter that if he had squeezed your wrist any harder, you would have heard a cracking sound coming from your bones.

How could he possibly be so strong even when exhausted, so close to death?

As the pain receded, you took a deep breath and forced yourself to calm down. Your thin wrist was marked in red, like poppies, as if the shadows of his fingers were engraved on your skin.

You glanced timidly over your shoulder; he was still lying there with his eyes closed. But you had just made a terrible mistake—he must have heard your voice and realized you were a woman. Only the gods knew what he would do when he regained consciousness.

You had to leave immediately. Wrapping your wrist in a clean piece of cloth, you tucked the sleeve of your dress into it to hide the bandage. As you stepped out of the tent, your uncle grabbed your arm and pulled you behind it.

“Uncle, the general opened his eyes for a moment and heard my voice. He might remember when he wakes up,” you whispered, hoping no one had overheard you.

“Gods have mercy upon us,” he murmured, glancing down. Then he grabbed your shoulders. “It’s time to go. You need to leave now. Follow the path through the woods. Some soldiers are having a disagreement about something; I think they have found out—”

“You! Medicus! Come over here!” one of the soldiers shouted at your uncle. He gestured to you with his eyes, silently urging you to go.

“You too!” you gasped as you realized that the soldier was waving his hand at you.

“Sir, he should stay with the General…” your uncle interjected, stepping in front of you to protect you.

“I said come, both of you, now,” the soldier replied, his tone unmistakably commanding.

As you took tentative steps towards the group of soldiers forming a circle around your uncle, your heart raced as if it were about to burst. These were the soldiers who had just argued, fought, and you found yourself wondering whether they had been injured, but you could see no visible wounds on anyone.

On the contrary, they gazed at you with curiosity, and only at you.

“That’s nonsense, Dimitrus; this boy can’t be a girl,” said one soldier, pointing at you with a small knife in his hand.

Your uncle stood beside you, his worst fears realized, his face taut with worry. As the soldier, whom you guessed was named Dimitrus, approached, your uncle stepped in front of you. But the soldier easily overpowered him and shoved him aside. With a scrutinizing gaze, the soldier examined your body from head to toe. You bowed your head and clenched your fists, your heart pounding in your chest as your breathing quickened. He yanked down the hood of your cloak with his large hands, drawing the attention of other soldiers who now gathered nearby for a better look.

When he saw your hair tied up at the back of your head, his grin widened. He drew a dagger from its sheath, and as you caught sight of your uncle's worried face behind the soldier's formidable arm, you began to pray to all the gods.

Dimitrus grasped your bun and quickly cut the hair tie with his dagger, causing your golden-brown wavy hair to cascade over your shoulders. The soldiers laughed and whistled, while Dimitrus looked at them with a cocky smile before turning back to you.

“Such long hair for an aide boy, huh?” he chuckled.

“A girl, indeed,” replied another soldier, looking at you in disbelief.

“I told you I could smell a woman from a mile away,” he laughed, his voice booming.

“Please,” you pleaded, feeling powerless. A wave of despair washed over you.

“What is going on here?” The burly soldier approached, eyes wide with astonishment at your new appearance. Dimitrus grabbed your hair, pulling you closer to him. He then seized your chin and turned your face towards Octavius.

"Look at her! You didn't even notice that the medicus brought a girl with him, Octavius? In our camp? And you're supposed to be the general's right-hand man!" 

You struggled to move, but he was too strong. 

"Hey, I can’t see her face clearly!"

You closed your eyes tightly as someone threw wine in your face. Dimitrus roughly wiped your face with his big fingers.

“Gods, no ordinary beauty,” he said, looking at you like a hungry wolf. He leaned in closer, inhaling the scent of your hair, making you feel nauseous. You tried to look away, but your eyes met your uncle’s desperate gaze.

“That's enough, Dimitrus. Let her go. Is this what you all think while our General lies there, fighting for his life?”

You rushed to your uncle's side as his hands released your hair. "He's already dead; I've never seen anyone get up after being poisoned," he says, as if he were looking forward to his death.

Octavius unsheathed his sword with a sharp "schwing" sound. "How dare you! Say that again and I'll cut your tongue off!" he barked.

Dimitrus' followers drew their swords as well. Octavius looked at each of them with anger and disbelief. He had been betrayed. "You treacherous filthy rats! I'll kill you one by one!" He waved his long sword at them.

Dimitrus grabbed your uncle by the collar. "Start with this one then. Who knows what he gave the General instead of medicine?"

"Aye, he must be punished!" shouted one of them.

"Punish him, Octavius!"

They were all yelling at him by raising their swords, you were thinking a way out but there wasn’t any.

"If you won't, I shall," Dimitrus pointed the end of his sword at your uncle.

"No!" you shrieked, but your uncle stopped you, raising his hand.

Then, as Octavius raised his hand and was about to lunge at him to prevent him, Dimitrus plunged his sword through your uncle's stomach, the poor man groaning in pain and falling to his knees, and as you ran towards him, he drew back his sword, his blood splashing in your face with the force of the draw. Your body began to shake, and you felt paralyzed as you watched his lifeless body collapse to the ground.

"Dimitrus!" Octavius roared, ‘You've gone too far! What do you think our general will do to you when he awakens?’

You fell to your knees in shock, your body rigid and still, your face expressionless, yet tears streaming down your cheeks.

"General? You failed to save him; you let that medicus get into his tent; you must share his fate! I will let the emperors know that this is all your fault! And I think we must put the general out of his misery-"

Out of nowhere, an axe flew at Dimitrus, piercing his chest. His body shook as he reeled back, then collapsed to the ground, lying backwards and dying in a pool of blood. Everyone looked at him in astonishment and panic. Blood gushed from where his chest had been split open, and when he stopped breathing, he lay there as his eyes remained wide open.

They turned their heads to see who had thrown the axe and were shocked once again. The general could hardly stand near his tent, his eyes filled with rage and his gaze burning with fury. Octavius quickly ran to his side.

"General! Thank the Gods you're finally awake!" 

"What's going on here, Octavius?" His voice was like a roar.

“Sir, Dimitrus and others have attempted to mutiny.” 

Acacius shot a deathly glare at the other soldiers, who immediately kneeled with their swords turned upside down. 

“No, sir, we did not.” 

“Forgive me, sir, it was Dimitrus's doing.” 

“Sir, please forgive me.” 

You gently closed your uncle's eyelids with your fingers as they all pleaded for forgiveness. With your back turned to the General, you felt indifferent about your fate; you no longer cared whether you lived or died. It seemed to you that your whole life was already over.

"If any of you ever dare to do anything like this again," he said as he walked near Dimitrus’ body and pulled the axe from his chest roughly; you were startled by the crunching sound coming from his bones.

"I Marcus Justus Acacius, will make sure that he meets the same fate as this scum!"

He put them in their place, and they all nodded in fear. They stood up at his gesture while bowing their heads, unable to look him in the face. 

“Now get ready; we must sail at dawn!” 

“Yes, sir!” 

They quickly sheathed their swords and hurriedly spread out.

Acacius staggered slightly as watched them move, his wound still painful, but he tried hard not to show it. 

Octavius touched his arm. "Sir, the Gods have spared your life, but please rest a little longer." 

"Who is this man?" 

You were certain he was referring to your uncle, even though your back was turned to him. 

"The medicus who cured you, sir. Dimitrus got mad and killed him because he thought he couldn't save you."

"As if we haven't lost enough healers tonight. He was clearly mistaken. This man managed to cure me, and I am standing here because of him." He turned to Octavius. "Make sure this man's body is returned to his family. Inform the governor about this; they should make all the necessary arrangements for the rituals."

Octavius nodded, "Yes, sir, I will." 

They both turned their gaze toward you. "What about this one?" 

Your body was frozen; you felt as if the time for your execution had come. You never expected your last moments to unfold like this. 

"I think this is his aide or slave, sir. Dimitrus discovered she was a woman and that medicus was hiding her," one of them said, bowing his head in shame. You swallowed hard. 

Acacius' pain returned, and he groaned. Octavius gently grabbed his waist. "Sir, please rest. You need to regain your strength." 

"Sir!" Acacius' squire rushed over, placing his arm under Acacius' shoulder. 

It was time for him to turn away from you.

"Since her master has died, take this girl to the other slaves. I don't want any more chaos or mishap," he said in a firm voice.

You wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand as their footsteps faded away. Two soldiers grabbed your arms and lifted you off the ground while others carried your uncle's body. As you turned your head and glanced over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of the General's curly gray hair and well-shaped nose before he disappeared into his tent.

Your body was filled with rage. What you heard only heightened your pain and deepened your hurt. A slave? How could he say that? The one who had healed him was now considered worthy of being a slave?

As the mid-morning sun began to reflect off the walls of Rome through the haze that filled the harbor, the city was preparing to experience one of the most significant days in its history. Everyone who noticed the navy ships approaching from afar—citizens, subjects, foreign diplomats, merchants, civil servants, and porters—gathered at the entrance of the city. They were waiting to welcome General Acacius and the victorious Roman soldiers. On the deck of the large ship at the forefront of the fleet, the General sighed deeply as he looked out over his city, thanking Mars for his triumphant and healthy return.

The journey from the port of Alexandria to Rome took ten days, and it was a challenging experience for you, traveling alongside captives known as slaves. Most of these individuals were Greeks and Egyptians, and the joyous shouts echoing through the streets of the Roman capital meant nothing to them. On board the ship, they were repeatedly told that the slave market in Rome was quite prestigious. They were assured that young girls would be well cared for by certain families, urged to stop their tears, and encouraged to pray to Jupiter so that wealthy families would notice them and buy them at high prices.

You were not like those slaves; you were not a prisoner of war, and your family was neither enslaved nor poor. Your uncle was a renowned and esteemed medicus, part of an affluent family. He and his wife found you on the banks of the River Nile when you were three years old—that is what they told you. The gods had not blessed them with a child, so they loved you as if you were their own. You knew he wasn't your biological father or uncle, but you were very happy with your life and didn't ask too many questions until he revealed the letter the night before everything changed.

As an orphan, you were raised by your uncle, who taught you about Egyptian medicine. You assisted him in countless surgeries, helping to bring many people back to life, including the general himself. Through this experience, you gained enough knowledge and skill to become an expert in the field. However, no one would refer to you as a medicus because you were a woman. Your talents were too remarkable to ignore, yet despite sharing your skills with those on the ship, no one believed you. Even if they did, there was little they could do to change the situation.

As you looked through the small cracks between the ship's planks, your gaze drifted over the seemingly endless sea. You couldn’t shake the thoughts of the dream you had the night before.

‘Cure him.’

Wouldn't it have been better if you hadn’t cured him? Perhaps your uncle would still be alive. Maybe you wouldn’t be sitting on this ship now, resigned to your fate, wondering and worrying about what will happen to you. Is this your reward for healing the great Roman general?

That man ruined your life, and you only did yourself a disservice by saving him. Perhaps the gods were testing you, but what was the lesson?

You observed the shadow of the general’s fingers beneath the cloth wrapped around your wrist. The color reminded you of violets bathed in moonlight from days ago. Now, it was an unmistakably bright hue, and the pain had lessened significantly.

As the ship rumbled into port, you realized that it was time to accept your fate. In the dark and damp bilge of the ship, you and a girl close to your age called Decima took turns using the same swing as a bed, you liked each other and in desperation you became confidants, friends. She was in her early twenties and had a lovely charm about her, while you, in your late twenties, had a stunning beauty that really stood out. Her father was a rebel, probably killed by the General's men, and she was taken as captive. You told her almost everything except the letter that you’re hiding in your bag.

As soon as you stepped into the harbor, the discrimination began. The general and his men moved in the opposite direction, while the slave trader standing in front of you ordered you to go elsewhere.

You frowned as you caught sight of his face in the distance, peeking over the shoulders of the crowd. He looked healthy; his body had managed to overcome the venom of the past few days, and his wound had healed. You remembered how you had spent hours with your uncle trying to cure him and how you had struggled to create the antidote while your arms and wrists ached with pain.

Suddenly, the General's face lit up with a warm smile as he waved to his citizens. To your surprise, all your anger momentarily vanished. You turned your head away; looking at him would only cause you pain. He wouldn't recognize you because he couldn't clearly see your face, not just yet. Besides, to him, you were just a slave—nothing more.

However, Octavius recognized you from a distance. He was the only one who had witnessed your hard work. He was an honorable man, he disliked seeing you among the slaves, but he felt powerless, as it was the General's order.

In the evening of that day, after the slaves were taken to the baths and then to the market for sale, you and Decima were brought by the slaver to a separate cell. From outside, the lively sounds of the market could be heard, where slaves were being sold one by one. There was a great deal of interest in these new slaves from Egypt.

The slaver appeared at the door of your cell with a man who looked to be older and wealthy. Decima immediately stood up, but you remained still. The slaver gestured with his hand, turning Decima around in the center of the cell to show off her arms, face, and feet, while squinting at you.

“Look at these strong and beautiful young girls, sir. I wouldn’t show you any poor slaves; they are both virgins and very beautiful. The great Venus has bestowed her beauty upon them. They would fetch a lot of money in the market, but I thought I would show them to you first, sire.” He was being very flattering, but the man's eyes were fixed on you.

“Doesn't she have any manners? Why isn't she standing up?” “You're right, sir, she must be a bit sick from traveling. She will,” he gestured to you with his hand. “Come on, get up, girl.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, he squeezed your arm hard to warn you first, then did everything what he had done to Decima, opening almost every part of your body for the other man to see. It was incredibly disgusting, you felt like an animal being sold at the cattle market.

"The other one is younger, but this one is beautiful, a rare find," he said, grabbing your arm and looking at you hungrily. "How much do you want for her?"

Your eyes meet with Decima in a silent exchange, as it was time to go your separate ways.

"Eight thousand sesterces, sire."

He pursed his lips in thought, his fingers touching your hair while you closed your eyes, praying for a miracle.

"Ten thousand sesterces!"

A familiar voice of a man echoed through stone walls. You all turned your heads to that direction."General Marcus Acacius offers ten thousand sesterces for this girl!" Octavius appeared, his imposing figure clad in armor that clanked with every step. He tossed a large coin pouch to the slaver, who caught it, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Sold, of course," he said, counting the coins with a happy expression.

Octavius then firmly grabbed the other man's arm, which was still close to you, lifted it, and pushed it away. He frowned. "This girl now belongs to General Acacius, sir. You must not touch her," he warned firmly.

As the general entered the city in his chariot, the people shouted his name. He waved his hand to them, and the streets were filled with a great enthusiasm as everyone gathered to honour the general and his soldiers. The chariot carrying him soon passed under the triumphal arch of Septimius Severus and turned towards the Curia Julia, the Senate building, where the emperors must have been waiting for him. The general's smile faded. He was tired and not looking forward to seeing them, but he would not go to his villa before visiting the emperors.

As General strode purposefully up the marble stairs, Geta and Caracella leapt down from their golden imperial thrones in excitement. As soon as Geta saw him, he opened his arms wide.

‘How can I reward Rome's greatest general?'

'By letting him catch his breath first,' Caracella smiled widely.

Acacius stopped in front of them and nodded, 'My Emperors.'

'We have been eagerly awaiting for your arrival, general,' Geta clasped his hands together, looking at him with admiration.

'Speak for yourself, brother. My legs ache from sitting for so long,' Caracella said, then laughed loudly. 'But it was worth it, indeed!'

‘Indeed!’ They both laughed once more, but Caracella looking at his brother a bit strange way.

It was hard to tell if Caracalla wanted to embrace Geta or if wanted to take his life right then and there. The relationship between the two of them was quite distorted.

The general rolled his eyes, he was used to these two whiny emperors half of his age bickering at each other all the time, he sighed in frustration at having to put up with them when he could easily take both their lives with a single stroke of his sword. Unfortunately, this unpleasant situation had only just begun.

‘We heard that you were poisoned, how did it feel?’ Geta looked at him with wide eyes and smile.

The news must have reached the emperors before the general had even boarded the ship.

'Painful, your highness,' Acacius stated, a shadow passing over his brown eyes as he remembered the pain again.

'I'm sure it was, it must have been an interesting experience.’ Caracella crossed his arms; smiling just like his brother.

‘Cobra or viper?’

‘Aspis, highness, the viper type.’

‘Oh, I won!’ Geta jumped for joy and gestured to Caracella with his hand, imitating a snake.

Caracella ignored him looking at the General.

‘The rebels must have quite a sense of humour, poisoning a Roman General carrying Medusa on his chest with a snake, quite ironic,’ he touched Medusa on General's armor with his index finger.

Acacius frowned while looking at him, ‘They certainly do, they murdered all our medici mercilessly, fortunately the great Asclepius sent his help, my men brought another medicus from city was able to cure me, it is thanks to him that I can stand here in front of you, highness,’ Acacius remembered the memory when he was unsure whether it was a dream or not but he could not get out of his mind the fingers that touched his lips, the owner of those hazel eyes that came to his aid when his throat was dry from thirst. But it couldn't be medicus he thought, it had to be someone with thin fingers, someone with beautiful eyes he had never seen before. Maybe, since he was too close to death, it was a dream or a goddess has appeared to him, he couldn't be sure.

The first thing he remembers is opening his eyes and grabbing her wrist with his survival instinct. He thought it was a strange looking young man in a hood, maybe another rebel had come to kill him again, but then he heard her voice and thought his goddess had come to heal him. He was in so much pain and seeing hallucinations that he couldn't tell if it was a dream or not. But couldn’t get rid of those thoughts since days.

The emperors didn't seem to care much about the medicis the general was talking about, or how he had recovered, and Acacius seemed bored as they continued to joke with each other.

‘Mother,' Geta ran to her as he noticed the Empress approaching, extends his arm for her.

Julia Domna took his arm as she coming towards Acacius, whispering something into Geta’s ear, without taking her eyes off the General.

‘My lady,’ Acacius nodded to her.

Domna's smile was like Caracella's, you could never guess what she was thinking.

‘General, how good it is to see you return triumphant once more. Rome salutes you, and I embrace you,’ she approached him with open arms and put her hands Acacius’ board shoulders.

Caracella sat back on his throne, a bored look on his face.

‘My Lady, the honour is mine,’ the general said, bowing his head.

‘We shall sacrifice 1000 bulls to honor our triumphant mother!’ Geta clapped his hands excitedly, ‘Let's have a great feast tonight!’

‘Highness, let's give the General some time to rest, he must be tired from the battle,’ Domna removed her hands from the General's shoulders but kept her eyes on him.

Caracella let out a high, shrill laugh that echoed through the white marble columns. Geta sat on his throne and scowled.

‘Acacius, walk with me,’ the Empress turned round, gestured to him.

Acacius sighed, he didn't want to be alone with her, but he had to. Domna walked ahead of him, hands clasped behind her back, he followed her slowly.

‘My sons are glad to see you again, even if they have no idea how fortunate they are to have you serving them.’

'It is my duty to serve Rome.’

She paused and smiled, watching the water in the pool shimmer in the sunlight, the glow reflecting off her bright skin, her expression was difficult to read.

'I think you have a talent for survival.’

She sounded dissatisfied. 'After all, you trained under Maximus, you must have learned a lot from him.’

He looked away, 'I owe where I am today to the remarkable fighting skills he taught me, he was an honourable man, the greatest general Rome has ever seen,' Acacius' eyes were fixed on the great Temple of Venus between the eastern edge of the Forum Romanum and the Colosseum.

Domna looked at him with a feeling between admiration and concern.

‘He, like you, lived to serve Rome, even if he had to kill Commodus,’ she said, and even little children could catch the obvious implication in her voice.

Acacius held his ground, his eyes roaming the curves of the statue of Venus.

‘But unlike him, you are loyal to the emperors, I can be sure of that, can't I?

He turned his head towards her, but did not look at her. His eyes were now on the two spoilt emperors who were talking animatedly to each other between the columns. 'As long as Rome is prosperous for all her subjects, I will be loyal to them, my lady.'

Domna laughed loudly, 'Ah, that's why I want you in the Senate, how long will you refuse?

'I am only a soldier, politics is not my business, nor should it be. Consuls in the Senate -'

‘Those old foxes live in abundance and do nothing, the person who has done Rome the greatest service should be in the Senate.’ Domna glanced over her shoulder at her sons. 'I am concerned that Macrinus has no equal in the Senate and that Caracella dominates him, perhaps if you are in there, you will gain his trust.’

'Your Highness...' He looked at her shaking his head as no.

Domna looked at Acacius, this time with a serious expression on her face, 'For the sake of Rome you must be especially careful with Caracella, as her mother even I find it hard to get my way with him, he is not like Geta, he is a hard-headed child.’

Acacius looked at Caracella whose back was turned, of course he knew this very well, for a moment he thought that he was the real threat to Rome, not the enemy soldiers or the others.

‘Anyway, you should go to your villa and rest, you will have time to think about this alone,’ she said with a forced smile, then turned around to go to her sons.

After praying in the temple of Venus, Acacius walked out, and as he descended the steps of the temple, he felt a stinging pain where his wound had been, the poison had completely gone from his body, but it had left its trace behind.

Octavius was lost in thought as he has leaned against the side of the carriage waiting for him, quickly stood up when he noticed him.

‘Sir.’

‘I see you don't miss your home, as you're still here,' Acacius said as he descended the last step. He got into the carriage and climbed in to sit beside him. Acacius was quite tired so he lay down on the seat, the fact that he felt so comfortable with Octavius was because of their long friendship, he was his most trusted man, more than just a friend, like a brother.

'Are you going to tell me what's troubling you?’ Acacius covered his face with his arm, but he could feel the tension in him.

'Sir, the girl.’

'Oh, I see, a girl? Have you fallen in love with a girl?

'No, that's not it,' Octavius felt embarrassed as he remembered your face. 'That poor girl, It doesn't seem fair that she should be with those slaves, sir, you are an honourable man, but your order-'

Acacius lifted his arm from his face and looked at him, the cart swaying as it moved along the stony roads.

'The girl that medicus hid? Why do you care so much for her? Is there something I should know?’

'After all, they worked so hard together to cure you, perhaps you should have at least let her go home.’

‘Together? What do you mean?' Acacius sat up, his eyebrows furrowed.

Octavius bowed his head.

'Sir, I made a mistake, it was my fault for letting them into your tent, I don't know how I could have been so careless even after the assassination, forgive me...'

Acacius raised his hand.

'Slow down, we will talk about your mistake later, you are saying that girl entered my tent and cured me? How?’

'I didn't look closely at her face and I didn't know she was a woman maybe because of her outfit but I made a terrible mistake, I should’ve known, forgive me sir.’ He bowed his head once more but it made Acacius more angry.

'You haven't answered my question, Octavius,' his voice was loud.

'Yes sir, she did her best to cure you, sir, the girl and Medicus worked hard to produce antivenom all night.’

Acacius was surprised when he realized that he hadn't dreamed that night. He was glad to learn that the owner of those eyes was a real person. But then he thought that she might be on the slave market by now, about to be sold to someone else.

‘Stop the carriage!’ He yelled.

The coachman immediately did as he was told and pulled hard on the horses' harnesses, the horses howling and stamping their hooves on the ground.

'Sir?' Octavius raised his eyebrows in surprise.

'Go and find the girl, I want to see her at my villa tonight, do you understand? Acacius tossed him a pouch full of coins.

Octavius smiled, ‘Yes, sir.’

please comment, reblog and like if you enjoyed so far thank youu,

All Chapters List

[little-fae-hero]

Linked Universe, The Hero of Time

my headcanons/aus

Art by Atro Avis

Colored version.

Long talk/Ideas under the cut, warning for slight body horror and dark fae topics. (Note: I may add stuff over time, but nothing will be deleted from the list)

Twilight. Wind. Legend. Hyrule. Four. Sky. War. Wild.

Time (Ocarina of Time/Majora’s Mask). Other nicknames: Mask, Sprite, Old man, Pops.

Titles: Hero of Time, Hero of the Kokiri, Hero of Mask, Hero of Termina, The Hero’s Shade. The Changed Kokiri

God who has claim over his soul: Kishin (Fierce Deity)

Part of First’s soul: Thoughtfulness

Note: Also appears in Hyrule Warriors. Is responsive for the first timeline break:

Fallen timeline - never grows when picking up the master sword and ends up dead because the energy of the fight was too much on his body.

Child timeline - Where he went through Oot and was sent back. So, to everyone he just got the gems and as a kid with visions warn of the outcome. (twilight princess)

Adult timeline - this was the timeline where he defeated Ganon as an adult, it was abandoned after (Wind Waker).

History:

Time is not human at all, though he looks like it. He is a Kokiri, a child of the fae and once leaving the forest, he’s considered a changeling. His mother is Navi, though she wasn’t by his side for most of his ‘childhood’ as she was sent on mission by the great deku tree.

Being sent on his adventure after the great Deku tree’s death, he and Navi leave the forest (much to Navi and the other kokiris horror). And start the journey from Oot, the only difference is Time has a full-on panic when he wakes up as an adult, because he knows physically, he’s a kokiri. Even after the events of Oot, he is never fully the same, this isn’t helped when Navi leaves his side for a moment, and he can’t find her. As he goes to find her, he ends up in Termina and ends up in a hellish time loop. Time is unsure how long he was in this loop, so his age mentally is completely unknown. Eventually he succeeds, however he doesn’t get time to rest as he is immediately sent to the Era of War (Hyrule Warriors), with skull kid and others. He ends up growing close to the Link from that era and he learns a lot about him before he is sent back. He never goes back to the Kokiri forest, for fear he wasn’t Kokiri anymore and the lost woods would transform him.

After being sent back to his time, he ends up living at Lon Lon Ranch, going on small adventures before marrying Malon.

His death: Time is sent somewhere for a war and ends up wounded in the lost woods. He’s injured with a metal mix that is poisonous to kokiri . Knowing what awaits him, Time holds onto his regret, which would keep him as a ghost on the world. The biggest regret was leaving behind someone he was protecting, never fulfilling the promise to see him again.

Interest stuff/Head canons:

Kokiri's are children of Fae who have yet to decide what they want to be, they are adaptable to everything, hence why they mainly take on human children or little tree children.

The sharp teeth, claws and inhuman eyes are typically just a defense to keep humans away, the biggest difference being their blood and tears proving they are not human.

Time’s teeth and nails are still sharp, he just actively keep them trimmed or filed down so others won’t freak out

Typically, the guardian fairies are the ones to protect the kokiris however they can use their teeth and claws if needed.

Although It’s discouraged for any Kokiri to experience or cause harm from the old saying ‘not to spill blood in the forest, as the tree will remember and crave it’, and blood and flesh will have to become a part of diet to grow up healthy (so Time eats a lot more meat then most).

Time was very much afraid of dying from leaving the forest, he was reassured that having the gem and his mother would keep him alive and healthy. It’s why he hunts for Navi so much after Oot, and later so heavily used to Fierce deity mask in HW. He now knows he doesn’t need it (the mark FD gave him is enough), but he still wears the gem as comfort.

He still hopes to see Navi one day, maybe just for comfort.

Because of his Kokiri/Fae nature and his ability to adapt, he took on aspects from each of the transformation masks, most are hidden from sight.

The Deku scrub has left Time’s insides to be a network of roots and vines rather than veins, this does allow him to heal faster. The Goron has transformed his bones to rock, as well as the heat not affecting him, he could stick his hand in lava if the vines didn’t scream in pain. Zora already improved his musical ability (fae song) but also has added scales and the ability to breathe underwater. The FD has added his height, the marking that married his face and eye as well as his unnerving and unreadable magic signature.

However Time does his best to hide his inhuman features, it’s why he doesn’t take off his bottom layer of clothes. Only the FD mark can be seen.

Time's blind eye acts like the lens of truth times 100, however he keeps it close because of the information overload.

Time loves Malon, and always dreams of having a family with her, but he always fears what his inhuman genes might do to the kid. Twilight, who shares so many traits with him and Malon, eases these worries.

He is very experienced and physically is the oldest.

However, he does just enough odd stuff that the closer you look at him and his behavior, the more you're on edge.

He can speak Hylian, Zora, Goron and Deku really well, but all sound very stiff and formal. Fae is the only one he speaks naturally though it's been getting rusty as he mostly speaks Hylian.

He still has a lot of childlike mischief still left, so he not above pulling pranks, but mainly harmless ones considering he’s the voice of reason.

Time's favorite food are sweet treats. He has stolen many cookies.

He still has all his masks, and while he does show them to the group. The transformation mask never leaves his bag. Despite the FD mask being the only one with a soul left, it feels off to let anyone mess with the Goron, Deku or Zora.

Time’s eye glows in darkness.

He gave himself the scar over his eye.

He has a tattoo on his shoulder from the Goron’s back home. It’s just never seen sense he doesn’t take off his shirt.

Because of Termina, Time can keep time down to the second, day and night.

—

Hope you enjoy my dive into madness, hehehe

[dooberific]

I absolutely love your writing!! Idk if you're open for request, but if you do, can I request doctor!reader with Harumasa? He loves to go to infirmary not only he can pretend to be sick but also just to see them

Double trouble cause I thought it sounded like a fun combination. Does using a 1988 song name as the title make me sound old? 🤔

❝ 𝘉𝘢𝘥 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘠𝘰𝘶 ❞

harumasa x afab!doctor!reader

genre: fluff, I projected a little bit into this???

summary: if being in love with your cute doctor wasn’t bad enough, she’s completely clueless when it comes to romance

wc: 1.6k

The end of your pen tapped thoughtfully against your plush lower lip as you skimmed your notes. Once. Twice. Your eyes dart to the opened paper file on the counter beside you.

 Even cracked it was a solid two inches high and crammed full of health histories, specialty consult results and prescription sheets all bound haphazardly with what looked like ties from a bread bag. You really needed to get an actual binder to hold it all, but as of now you had other problems to address.

“Well,” you swiveled your chair around as you clicked your pen, eyes still skimming your intake sheet before you looked up with a smile, “Good news is nothing seems to be wrong. Well, let me rephrase that, wrong when compared to your baseline.” 

It was an important differentiation to make when you were dealing with one of your most tasking patients. In your two years of clinic practice in the city you had never needed to spend a series of days pouring over a patient file, heck, even before you graduated and were staged as a resident in the clinic in the Outer Ring it wasn’t so extensive. 

Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome was a bad actor, and Asaba Harumasa seemed to be its favorite role to haunt. 

He coughed pitifully, a hand splayed over his chest as he shook his head. “Are you sure, Doc? My body’s aching all over and my head feels funny, and I—,” he coughed again, “can’t seem to shake this cough.” 

You frowned, scribbling another note on your papers. “Have you been taking all your medications as indicated?”

“Just as the doctor ordered…actually,” a pensive expression decorated his face as he fisted the fabric of his work shirt, “maybe I have a deficiency in something, I think I ran out of some of my vitamins.” 

You perked up immediately, flipping quickly to his laundry list of medication and supplements. “Which one have you been missing? A? C? K?”

“I think it was vitamin you.”

“Oh.” You pulled your prescription pad off the desk. “I’m going to write you an order for  Vitamin U. Try adding some cruciferous veggies to your diet, leafy greens, broccoli, stuff like that. Call me if it starts giving you stomach problems.”

You tore the slip off your pad as you extended it to him, the paper decorated in your curling and messy script. 

“Do you need a work excuse?”

Should he just quit? This was the question he asked himself every time he stepped out the door of the clinic back onto the street, paper bag of medication in his hand. 

White coat syndrome was a very real affliction, though his heart wasn’t racing and his blood pressure wasn’t spiking because he was anxious. After the fourth visit you just assumed it was his baseline response to see his pulse spike randomly through the exam, after all, his syndrome mainly seemed to impact his heart and lungs. 

What you didn’t know was that wasn’t his baseline, nor was it a mutation of his syndrome not documented by his past physicians. It was simply a biological response to something else you conveniently seemed to not notice: the raging interest he had in you.

Rest assured he was absolutely mortified when he figured it out himself, laying on his back staring at the ceiling in the dark as he realized he was enthralled by the very idea of you. Your intelligence, your nimble hands, the way you tapped your pen against your lips when met was a challenge you hadn’t quite deciphered, your warm smile.

It wasn’t a complete lie when he would tell you he felt feverish, or that his stomach felt sick and his heart was racing, he felt all those things with horrifying clarity tenfold when your hand pressed against his forehead after noting aloud that his skin seemed flush and clammy. 

Was it crossing a line to be flirting with your doctor? Definitely, he was sure he was toeing some doctor-patient professional relationship line, but if he ended up in someone else’s care later then there really wasn’t anything holding him back. 

But he was growing increasingly convinced that if you weren’t intentionally playing dumb that you might be a little thick when it came to the nuanced science of flirtation because he had shifted from casual to nearly outright and you never batted an eye.

How else could you have misinterpreted his texts from last week? He was half-giddy with excitement, sure he had you this time.

I miss you.

Your appointment isn’t until next week, you didn’t miss anything. Have a good night :)

It haunted him nearly as much as the day he forgot his work excuse and asked you to text it to him, how proudly he had flipped the phone screen to show Tsukishiro until she squinted and asked, “Why do you have heart emojis around your doctor’s name?”

A devastating blow to his ego. But so was every failed attempt to catch your eye. 

“Do you have an inhaler? Cause you just took my breath away.”

“Hold on, I’ll grab one from the cart. You’re supposed to carry your own inhaler, Mr Asaba!” You scolded, disappearing for a moment before tossing him an inhaler. 

“You look a little under the weather yourself, Doc. Sure you aren’t deficient in vitamin M E?”

“Ah, I didn’t put as much makeup on today.” You cupped your cheeks with your hands thoughtfully. “I feel fine though, thanks for your concern.” 

“I’m no organ donor, but I’d love to give you my heart.”

“Your medical condition prevents you from joining the organ donation program.” You didn’t even bother to turn around when you acknowledged him.

“I think my heart just skipped a beat when I looked at you.”

“You’re on a medication that regulates heart rhythm, should I write you a cardiology referral?”

He went to text you again as he walked home for the evening. Typed. Deleted. Typed again. Deleted again. You just weren’t getting it, or maybe you were just too kind to tell him you weren’t interested or even that you had a boyfriend already on his numerous visits. Maybe he should just give you some space?

But maybe that would be cruel when you were standing on the sidewalk waiting for the light to change, mascara smeared down your cheeks as you sniffled. He pocketed his phone.

“Hey Doc, you alright?” 

You tensed, head swiveled in his direction before you quickly turned your face away, hands swiping at your cheeks before wiping them on your dark scrubs hastily.

“Oh, hey Mr. Asaba.” He frowned at your attempt at a cheerful tone, your voice still wavering from your tears before you cleared your throat. “You, uh, don’t have to call me Doc when the clinic is closed.” 

“And you don’t have to call me Mister when I’m not sitting on your exam table.” He retorted, catching the little quirk at the corner of your lips as they quivered in a small smile.

“Want me to walk you home? It’s kinda late.” 

“No, but thank you.” You peered over your shoulder towards the restaurant just behind you. You gripped your bag tighter, inching closer to where he stood beside you on the curb.  “Actually, would you mind..?” 

He didn’t have to ask you what was wrong, within the first five minutes of your walk you had apologized to him multiple times, started crying again, and spilled your heart out.

Six bad dates in the span of a couple weeks came to a head over a plate of chicken parm, your date kicking back as he declared you to be dull, hopeless, slow, and much uglier in person than your dating profile picture (which was your clinic profile photo). 

“He said that I “couldn’t take a hint”, whatever that’s supposed to mean!” You cried indignantly before you turned to him, eyes puffy and wet from your tears. 

“Am I that bad?”

He sucked a breath between his teeth. “Well, not to play the devil’s advocate but I’ve been flirting with you for weeks and you didn’t notice.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks. “What?!”

He held up his hands defensively, but before he could say anything your head had already hung low, shuffling your clinic sneakers on the dirty sidewalk outside your apartment.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was small as your shoulders sank. “I’m not very good at stuff like this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers grazing his choker. “I noticed, but it’s fine. You just need things to be a little more straightforward.”

He took a deep breath, clasping his hands together as he pointed at you. “I think you’re very pretty and charming in your weird doctor-y kind of way, so I would like to take you out for dinner sometime. Like, romantically.”

He was sure you gave yourself whiplash for how quickly your head snapped up, eyes wide. You brushed your tousled hair back from your face, cheeks flushing brightly enough he could see them burning under the streetlights.

“Oh, okay….when?”

“Tomorrow after you get off? I’m dreaming of beer and fried chicken if you aren’t opposed.”

“Of course not!” 

He was a little taken aback by how aggressively you answered, your hands clasping around one of his as if he was about to dematerialize before your very eyes.

“Great, then I will see you tomorrow. Have a good night, Doc—I mean, (y/n).”

“Good night to you as well.”

He turned to leave. He was practically screaming inside like a teenage girl you just secured a prom date, a new lightness to his step in the wake of his victory.

“Harumasa!”

He paused in his step, head whipping around to face you. You still stood on the stoop, a smile plastered across your face like he hadn’t seen before, one that lit your eyes up and dimpled your cheek.

“Thank you!”

He gripped his chest over his heart as it flipped wildly in his chest. His grin was pained when he looked up at you. 

“Doc, I might actually need emergency care this time--,”

Rey 2024

[damiansgoodgirll]

OK I found it! (No rush what’s so ever BUT!)

(During Roman’s tribal chief era.)

!Female Reader always had a crush on Roman, but was always too scared to ask him out.

One night during a match Kevin Owens costs her the match, (kinda like how Dom cost Raquel that one time) (you can pick between who ever is on the smackdown roster to have reader up against but it’s also not really required if you don’t want to.)

And basically the bloodline, mainly Roman goes to readers rescue, cause beef with Kevin.

(I know it’s not really…LIKE Roman to do something like that because he’s the tribal chief, but I feel like it would be a nice concept idea.)

Idk just fluff and adorable and what ever cause Roman… LMAO.

sorry it took me so long writing this but i’ve never written for roman and i had no idea on how to start 😭 i hope you like it + the timeline doesn’t really exist here lol

roman reigns x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated

‼️nothing major, hurt/comfort, angry roman, some fluff too, kevin owens is mean here sorry

my weakness

everyone loved roman. yes, he played the big mean guy part and he was definitely good at it but deep down you knew that he cared. he cared for his family, his cousins, the fans, he even cared about his opponents while in the ring. deep down you knew he had a big heart and he was a kind person who pretended to be the bad one.

and maybe it was because of his big mean yet kind personality you caught feelings for him.

it’s not that you were big friends - you had a closer relationship with the usos and your shy personality made it harder for you to get to know him better.

but there were times when you and roman spent some time alone. at the gym, training before a big match or backstage, his presence was nice and even if you didn’t speak much, you enjoyed being around him even if the only present sound was the silence.

unbeknownst to you, roman always admired you. he adored your quite presence. when everyone was noisy around him, he found comfort in your silence. your presence was enough for him.

and his admiration for you didn’t go unnoticed backstage but everyone kept quiet, too scared the tribal chief would get mad if someone said something and they know better to not upset him.

all the locker room knew about that. the saw how roman was nice in your presence but mean with everyone else and even if it made you laugh, you never thought more about that.

even if you had no real beef with anymore backstage, somehow kevin picked you as a main target just to made roman even angrier.

it was going all good on friday night smackdown and you had a match against tiffany - if you won over her, you would get a title shot against nia and after being in the industry for over five years with little to no titles opportunities, you were ready to take it all.

it was your moment to shine, to prove everyone that you deserved to be the women’s champion.

what you didn’t see coming was kevin owen running towards the ring the moment you almost pinned tiffany. you almost had it. but you got distracted by him running and tiffany saw that as an opportunity to stand up and hit you in the back.

you were kinda surprised to see kevin there, why was he even there? he barely talked with you backstage and you pretty sure he wasn’t there to help tiffany as he had no business with her either.

feeling pain in your back, you tried to take back control inside the ring but when kevin got closer to the metal stairs, you and the blonde woman both turned your head towards him.

“what are you doing?” you almost screamed, definitely irritated that he was there to ruin your moment “get down kevin…”

but he stood there, watching the way you and tiffany kept fighting. for the second time that night you had the chance to pin tiffy down but you were too close to the cords and nonchalantly kevin put tiffany’s leg over them.

“what the heck! kevin!” you screamed, even angrier now. you were pretty sure you did him no harm so why was he ruining your moment like that?

at this point you were tired and in pain. kevin was trying to sabotage you and you didn’t know if you had the strength to pin tiffany down for a third time.

meanwhile backstage roman was getting ready for his interview later that night and he had no idea what was happening in the ring. he knew you had a match and he was dying to see it but jimmy forced him to repeat his lines for the interview and he was missing all of your match, until jey came to the tribal chief private locker room and asked him if he knew why was kevin ruining your moment.

roman scrunched his nose, trying to elaborate what his cousin just told him “what did you say?” his tone hard.

“kevin is costing y/n’s title opportunity man, i didn’t even know those two had beef” jey uso repeated.

his words making roman’s blood boil “they don’t” he simply said before he left his changing room.

you fought with every single bone in your body. your head was spinning, your back was killing you and you were tired but you wanted that title opportunity so you kept fighting and for the third time that night you had the chance to pin tiffany down, only for kevin to grab you by the leg and drag your body away from the blonde one.

you couldn’t understand. you really couldn’t.

was it in the script and no one told you?

was your career so pathetic that superiors wanted you out of any title opportunity and instead of telling you, they sent kevin?

your mind was spinning so fast and even faster when your teary eyes met kevin’s eyes. somehow you knew he felt guilty about what he was doing to you and yet he kept going on, dragging your body out of the ring.

you had no strength left so you laid there, hearing the bell ringing, letting tiffany win, and you lose, again.

the crowd erupted in boos, especially since everyone was waiting for your match and cheering for you.

you still laid there, trying to catch your breath again when you suddenly heard the crowd going apeshit.

a very mad roman reigns was running towards kevin owens and punched him right in the face. you quickly stood up, surprised he was even there.

you stood by the ring, a hand behind your back as you tried to catch your breath once again. jimmy and jey coming to your rescue as you all watched roman dragging kevin inside the ring “your beef is with me, now with her…you’re gonna pay for this” he whispered, almost as a promise before leaving the ring.

the crowd was cheering, thinking that it was all part of a script and some even thought that you were going to join the bloodline but you honestly had no idea what was happening.

you saw roman waking towards you, his eves never leaving your body “you okay?” he asked but you were too confused that didn’t even answer “let’s get you backstage…” and for the first time you saw the twins walking in front of him as. roman’s hand gently moved to your back as he helped you walking away from the scene.

medical staff checked you out and luckily you had nothing broken. you were just in a big uncomfortable pain.

roman brought you to his changing room, telling jey and jimmy to go somewhere else as he wanted to speak with you - alone.

“are you okay y/n?” he asked once you sat down on his couch.

“yeah, i think so…” your voice trembled. you definitely weren’t okay. you didn’t even know what happened in the last thirty minutes. your brain couldn’t comprehend it.

“you’re not okay…come here” he gently sat next to you and engulfed you in his big arms. you didn’t even realise you started crying. soft whimpers left your body as roman stroked his hand over your back “kevin is gonna pay for what he did” he said with stern voice.

you looked up at him, quickly wiping your tears away “i don’t think i’ve ever been mean or rude to him, why would he cost me the only title opportunity i’ve been given in five years?” you said mostly to yourself.

“because of me…” roman didn’t want to confess. he didn’t want to ruin the little friendship you two had.

your look quite confused “you?”

“yeah me…” he took a deep breath “because the men in the locker room know…”

“they know what?” you couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“that you’re my weakness…” he tried to avoid your look as you watched him with big eyes “you’re my weakness, i never felt like this and they know it…they know i have feelings for you but no one ever said anything…except for kevin, who thought that ruining your moment was okay…he did it because of me, he probably feels like shit knowing that he fucked you up but he got my reaction, he pissed me off and that was his goal” he exhaled once he was finished.

you stayed there, trying to assemble what roman just told you. he liked you, kevin used you to piss roman off and roman defended you, because, again, he had feelings for you.

“you have feelings for me?” you whispered, fearing that if you said it out loud it would have been fake.

“yes…”

“you, the roman reigns, the tribal chief, you have feelings for me?” you whispered again, making roman chuckle this time “am i dreaming? that’s the only possible explanation, i am dreaming…”

his strong voice chuckled again “i promise you that you’re more than awake…”

“why didn’t you say anything about it? we could have avoided a lot of silence conversations…” you asked.

“because i didn’t know, i still don’t know what the outcome of my confession is…i didn’t want to lose you and in all honesty i loved being in your silent comforting presence” he smiled, making you smile back.

you looked at him, trying to find any sign that he was lying but when you find none, you moved closer to rest your lips upon his bigger ones. it was a soft kiss, the both of you testing the waters.

“this would have been the outcome if you told me earlier…” you whispered against his lips, making him laugh.

the title opportunity long forgotten when roman gently moved you over his lap and deepened the kiss.

“i can’t believe you like me…” you whispered, too stunned to believe what just happened.

“i’ve been liking you since you joined the roster…i should have said something earlier…” he said softly while his hand softly stroked your cheek “but i’m glad i did it now…” he kissed you back feeling you smile against his lips.

after a couple of minutes of softly making out, you both got distracted by the twins knocking on roman’s door.

“not now” he said, a stern voice while you tried not to laugh.

“we just wanted to remind you of the interview…” jimmy voice said and you felt romantic scoffing, clearly annoyed to be doing that interview.

“i’ll be out in five” he screamed back and began to kiss you again when he felt the twins walking away from his locker room.

“as much as i love this, you have work to do…” you reminded him, getting an annoyed look by him.

moving back to sitting on the couch, you let roman getting ready as you admired him. he smirked feeling your look on him, especially when you tried to look away.

“i promise you, you’ll get your title opportunity back and no one will interfere this time, you have the bloodline protection, that’s a promise” he said, promising you.

of course you believed him - you knew how important he was in the game and he knew that if he asked hunter for a little favour, he wouldn’t say no.

“once i’m done with my interview, i’ll come back here and then we’ll finish what we started, back at my hotel” he smirked again before leaving the room.

you watched him leave, not being able to answer back. your mouth agape at the idea of spending even more time with roman - maybe, after all, it wasn’t a bad night.

[rs-hawk]

Nobleman Minotaur

Part One

You started seeing Minotaur more around the palace. Your father invited him to sit in on his diplomatic meetings, resulting in him wandering the halls of your new home quite often. One day, after a very excruciating day of lessons on how to be a "proper Lady", you bumped into him. Literally.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," was your immediate response, even before you saw who it was. "Oh," you repeated, your face flushing. "Hello."

"Hello, Princess," he grunted. Something about the way that he said your title, a title that until now you hated, made your heart flutter.

"You don't have to call me that," you giggled, shyly looking away from him. "I should be calling you Prince Minotaur, really. You stepping aside to just a Duke is hardly fair to you."

There was a heavy silence in the air for a moment, causing you to look back at him. He looked so uncomfortable. You had no idea why, but it made guilt bubble up from your stomach. After another moment, he bowed, his horns nearly catching your dress with how close he was to you.

"My apologies for having to rush out so fast. It was lovely to see you, Princess."

With that, he's gone. Rushing past you to get out of the hallway. Your heart fell. The little crush you had on him felt so one sided that you thought he might never look at you again. Of course, that was completely wrong.

Poor Minotaur could hardly contain himself that close to you. His animal instincts were screaming at him to claim you. To make you his. All he wanted was to rip off your dress and breed your pretty, fat Princess cunt until your body gave out. He ran his hands over his face, tugging at his horns in annoyance. He had to get a hand on his self control.

This "self control" of his mainly resulted in him avoiding you at all costs. Yes, he was forced to interact with you a few times, but almost never alone. Your father kept trying to get you two to interact more, much to Minotaur's frustration. Couldn't the man understand that he was trying to respect him, and his kindness, by not mounting you every time he saw you?

By the time your official debut comes, a huge party thrown in your honor, his self control was hanging on by a thread. Seeing you all dolled up, your chubby tummy stuffed into a form fitting dress that showed off all your perfect curves, when you were announced was so mouth watering he had to excuse himself.

He hid in the day room that was right next to the ballroom, trying to catch his breath. There was no denying it though. He had to relieve himself or he'd never be able to get back to the party. The long chiton he wore would make it too obvious how hard his cock was if he didn't do something. Pulling the long sheet of silk to the side, he braced himself against the daybed. His large hand curled around his throbbing and aching cock, pumping himself slowly.

He moaned your name, quickening his pace until he came to the thought of you presenting yourself to him, begging him to breed you. After he cleaned up, he was able to rejoin the festivities. He even chatted with you, but still didn't want to get too close. When you asked him for a dance, he refused. You stuck your outer lip out slightly, looking dejected.

"It's my party, Minotaur," you said with such emotion that he sighed.

"Okay Princess. Come here," he parted his arms for you to come into.

As the two of you danced, you were oblivious to how hard his cock was. How close he was to dragging you to that day room. All you could think of was maybe he did like you too, and you wondered if your father would approve if you told him how much you liked Minotaur.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

acotar: feeding my complex

If you know me irl 🎶no the fuck you dont 🎶

This is azriel x reader x feyre x rhys smut. Everything is under the cut. (i'm so nervous posting this omg) 

(3.7K YALL WTF POSSESSED ME)

title is from complex by xana pls listen xana is one of the best artists ive ever heard!

‼️Minors Do Not Interact‼️

(i already know minors are gonna ignore that bc i have common sense)

notes: probably ooc rhys and az. i do not see them as the type to share mates but like, it’s hot. you could see this as wlw fetishization but as a pan/bi/queer woman this is a goddamn wet dream so i approve it. (duh i wrote it) 

This is mainly porn with no plot, but i snuck some in. 

kinks: ass play, tongue sucking, female worship, voyeurism, switching from top to bottom real quick, dirty talk (i tried), praise, oral (fem receiving), mating press, pussy slapping, edging, mentioned past knife play. I think i got it all folks. 

It all started from a dinner with Feyre and Rhysand. Aka your childhood best friend and her husband. You and Feyre dreamed of double dates with your spouses as children and now you finally have it. 

You four occasionally had these dinners, typically once a month. 

After the meal, you four were in the living room area, Azriel was on his second glass of wine, Rhysand and you weren’t drinking. Feyre was on her first glass. The fire was crackling with life, causing the room to warm. 

Then you four began sharing silly secrets. It started with Feyre and Rhysand fucking in paint, which gave your husband ideas. Then you and Azriel admonishing them for fucking in the literal sky. But then they scolded you two for knife play. Especially when they found out Truthteller’s handle was used to fuck you. 

“How did you even grip that?” Feyre asked. 

Azriel smirked, “who said I was the one holding it?”

“Who the hell did you invite to your bed and why wasn’t it us?” Rhysand asked, jokingly but you warmed at the idea. 

“The shadows you fool.” You laughed, sipping your water. “Az pinned me down and sucked my tits while the shadows pinned my legs down and used Truthtellers handle to fuck me. 

They were silent and then, “I love how you have no filter, baby.” Az coughed. 

“So do I. Damn.” Feyre said. “That’s spank bank material.”

You snorted and Rhysand just tipped his glass to you. 

Which then the conversation turned into friends having sex, and then: 

“You mean to tell me, you and my High Lady would have sex?” Azriel asked, surprised clearly. He knew you were into women but it was different knowing the object of your past affections was his close friend and High Lady. 

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged at your mate. “Two girls that the village wanted nothing to do with. Might as well do each other.”

“And by the way, it was a loving and very respectful relationship. Platonic sex!” Feyre declared from her spot on the couch. 

“Huh.” Rhysand said. “You know, I expected not to like that but…” he trailed off. “The thoughts are nice.”

You snorted and looked at Azriel, who was looking at you with an expression that could only be described as eye-fucking. 

“Are you serious?” You asked him grinning. He had the decency to blush. 

“What?” Feyre asked, looking towards you. 

“He’s into it too!” You laughed. 

Feyre laughed as well, “I mean I don’t blame them. We are quite hot together.” She scooted closer to you on the couch. 

“That we are.” You grinned and clinked your glasses together. 

You all quickly went onto other topics, but you both could tell that the boys just could not stop imagining you two together. 

“Okay, how do we bring you two back to the present?” Feyre asked. 

“What do you mean?” Azriel asked. 

“You two have been acting so weird since we said we used to hook up. So how do we stop that weirdness?” Feyre asked. 

“We just never imagined our wives with equally attractive women.” Rhysand shrugged. 

You gasped, “are you saying I’m as hot as Feyre? That's the best compliment.” 

He was silent. He actually looked sheepish, he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and everything. 

“What?” You asked. 

“He’s saying you’re as hot as him.” Azriel said. 

You gasped even louder. “Seriously?!” 

“I mean, you are,” Feyre shrugged. 

“And Feyre is….as attractive as you are, love.” Azriel said. 

“Awww Azzie..” Feyre cooed teasingly. “That's so cute.”

The tips of his ears became bright red. 

Rhysand stuttered out, “it’s just, hard to imagine so…” He trailed off 

You turned and looked at Feyre. “They wanna see us smooch.” You giggled. 

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Come here.” She grabbed your face and pecked you on the lips. 

When you turned towards the boys, they were wide eyed but not satisfied. “You’re blue-balling us.” Rhysand huffed. 

“Oh? You wanna see us do what?”

Rhysand was silent and looked at Azriel then you two. Feyre coaxed, “words baby.” 

“We want to see you two make out.” Azriel ended their misery. “And maybe…” He shrugged. 

“Maybe?” You prodded. You knew exactly what that voyeur wanted to see. But gods, this was fun enough for you. And it was turning you the fuck on. 

“Maybe if it’s hot, then we fuck you both together.” Azriel snapped, but it wasn’t malicious. Your mate snapped when he was flustered, which was rare. So you were eating this shit up. 

“If?” You chuckled. “Baby, it’s gonna be.” 

“Yeah yeah you know you two are hot.” Rhysand muttered. 

You giggled, “then we have to go to bed, don’t we?” You asked Feyre. 

“Duh.” She laughed, downed her drink then grabbed your hand. You both took off down the hallway, the men nearly tripping over themselves to follow you two. 

You two beat them to the bed. You both fell into a heap of giggles as they ran up the stairs. 

“Is it weird if I’ve missed kissing you?” Feyre asked. She threw off her baggy shirt, so her bra was on display. But left her shorts on. “As much as I love Rhys, kissing girls is just.” She kissed the air. 

“I feel the same.” You giggled into your shared air. You shucked your shorts off, revealing the granny panties you were wearing. If you knew this was coming, you would’ve worn a hot set. You left the big tee shirt on. 

“I’m not wearing panties, I wanna leave some mystery.” Feyre said. 

“I would’ve worn a hot set if i knew this was happening.” You laughed, you could hear the boys were close to the bedroom. 

“It’s not fair you look hot in granny panties.” Feyre groaned. 

You laughed as the boys arrived, now the fun could begin. 

“C’mere.” You grinned and Feyre did as well. 

The two of you sat on the bed, facing each other. Your knees touching. Very much aware of your husbands at the end of the bed waiting for you two to kiss. Their heated gazes stroked the inferno that was in your cunt. Throbbing. 

When you and Feyre’s lips met, the world went silent. Kissing Feyre was always like falling into a comfy bed. Soft, plush and safe. As much as you loved Azriel as he was your mate, and you obviously were sexually attracted to men. You also were sexually attracted to women. There was never a worry with Az. He never wanted to invite anyone to the bedroom because he didn’t trust anyone. 

But these, these were two of the people he trusted most. 

Nothing beats kissing a girl.

Your mouths opened for each other, your tongues caressing each other. Lewd sounds were the only sound in the bedroom aside from Azriel and Rhysands heavy breathing. Feyre pulled you against her, your tits rubbing against each other, you wore no bra underneath so the contact caused your nipples to pebble. She ran her hands underneath your shirt, scraping her nails against your back. Your hands wove into her hair and pulled her even closer. Her nails dug into your plush hips. 

She pulled away, “Gods, I missed these hips. Fucking perfection. So soft.” Between each sentence she pressed a kiss to your swollen lips. “Felt even better sitting on my face. Remember that?” 

“Gods how could I forget?” You whispered. You smelled the musky, manly scent of Azriel and Rhysands arousal, you felt your pussy throb at the aroma of them and the sweet smell of Feyre’s mixing.  

You captured Feyres lips between your own. Better than a drug. More addictive and exhilarating. 

You heard rustling and then the sound of clothes hitting the floor. 

You felt warm heat radiate at your back as large thighs cradled your butt and hips. Azriel’s warm hands went around your waist to hold you. He kissed your neck. You felt his cock in bump into your plush thighs. Rock hard. 

How far are we going with this? Rhysand created a link to all of your minds.

As far as you boys would like. This isn’t new for Y/N and I. Feyres throaty laugh echoed in your minds. Safe word? 

Peach. Like Y/N’s ass. Azriel said as he spanked you. 

No ones gonna get possessive and rip out someone’s throat? You asked as your tongue licked down the side of Feyres throat, your teeth scraped her skin. She let out a breathy moan. 

Nobody else I trust to fuck my wife than these two. Azriel responded 

Glad you have so much faith. Rhysand said. Can’t wait to make your wife see the galaxy. 

yeah watch me make your wife come. Was all you said before your fingers dipped into Feyre’s shorts. 

Azriel chose that moment to slip his hand into the back of your panties and spread your ass cheeks with his long thick fingers. Just rubbing outside the tight ring made you quiver. You weren’t a fan of penetration there, but a little bit of ass play never hurt. 

You snuck your hand into her shorts, her smooth, wet pussy was warm and inviting. You wanted to sink into it with your tongue and fuck her so hard she didn’t know her name. But, you’d do that another time, either with Rhys coming down her throat or just watching while Azriel pounded into you from behind, you weren't picky. 

You gathered her slick and brought it up to her clit and continuously rubbed circles on the bundle of nerves. 

Based on the way her thighs clenched around your hand, you knew something was going on in the back. Then you saw the lube in Rhysands hand get thrown onto the bed and knew that she was also getting some ass action.  

“Is he fucking your ass?” You asked her. She groaned. “You got my fingers on your clit, your husbands in your asshole and you’re giving my husband a filthy fucking show? You grabbed her face with your free hand, “open.” You ordered. 

She did so without complaint, her tongue sticking out as you took her tongue between your lips and sucked on it like it was your favorite candy. 

You pulled away long enough to say, “dirty fucking girl.” You saw her eyes roll back into her head as you took her tongue in your mouth again and sucked it. 

You moaned around her tongue as Azriel began pressing harder against your tight asshole. He began rubbing faster. You whimpered. You weren’t afraid to admit that it doesn’t take much to make you finish. But you also have a faster turnaround time than most. It helps that this sight, this situation was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

You let go of Feyre’s tongue. “Wanna sit on my face baby?” You asked Feyre as she pitched forward into your shoulder. “Huh? You can sit on my face while Az fucks me and you can suck Rhys’ cock. How does that sound?” You rubbed her even faster. 

She let out a louder moan as you felt her thighs quiver around your hand. 

“Or maybe you wanna see what the biggest wingspan feels like.” You grinned, you saw Rhys’ eyes flash a stormy violet. “His cock is so thick, baby.” You panted against Feyre’s temple. “You can feel every vein as you bounce. I bet it’d stretch you out so ni-“ 

You were cut off when someone threw you down on the bed. You looked up to see Rhys’ eyes pinning you down. One of his hands pinning both your wrists down. “Azriel.” Was all he said. 

“Yeah?” He asked, still discombobulated from the shift in position. 

“Pleasure my wife out while I eat yours out.” 

Your husband, your mate, let out a dark chuckle. “As you wish, My Lord.” Your mate sent a gentle caress down the bond. It was almost mocking. 

It was fucking hot. 

Rhys let out his beast form enough that his wings spread even wider, his right hand that wasn’t holding your wrist turned into his beast claws. And his cock was a hard rod against your inner thigh. 

“You know, it’s because of you my wife didn’t get to cum.” He said, one single talon cutting your shirt open. The cool air brushed against the swells of your tits. “If you just kept your fucking mouth shut, she would’ve finished.” He scolded as his wife's moans were in the background, you quickly glanced over Rhysand’s shoulder to see Azriel fingering his High Lady. 

“Am I supposed to be sorry?” You cocked an eyebrow. 

You had no idea what possessed you to say that to him. You’re only mouthy with Azriel, but not all the time. 

You were in a brat mood because the next thing you said was, “you mad that out of all of us I got to fuck her first?”

“Are you always this mouthy?” He asked. 

“You have no idea.” Azriel said, taking a break from sucking on Feyre’s tits and fingering her cunt. You were jealous of your husband. Feyre’s tits were spectacular. 

Rhysand pinned your waist down and began mouthing at one of your tits. His tongue circled a nipple and he grazed his canine against it which caused your back to shoot up off the bed. 

You felt Rhysands claws tap your mental shield, you let him in. 

“Praise or degradation?” He switched to the other breast. 

“Both. But, don’t overdo it with the name calling please.” You requested. You were bullied as a kid so name calling is a toughie to navigate. 

“What words are you against?” He then tore the rest of your shirt off completely. The cool air causing goosebumps on your exposed skin. 

“I don’t like being told I'm ‘just a cunt’. Degrade me by roughing me up. Praise my looks while you do it.”

His chuckle echoed in your mind, “oh I can certainly work with that.” 

“These beautiful thighs are meant to be parted.” He said as he trailed down your curvy body. “Curves of a goddess too.” He pulled your granny panties off and threw them somewhere. 

Azriel always told you how beautiful you were, but you weren’t gonna lie, hearing it from a guy like Rhysand was pretty nice too. 

“The prettiest woman I've seen.” Feyre said off in the distance. She was moaning as well. You didn’t know what your mate was doing. But you knew it was good. 

You hummed as he spread your legs, he blew on your clit and the air made your thighs twitch. 

“Your stretch marks are so beautiful.” He said into your mind. 

He licked a stripe between your folds and moaned. He started sloppily eating like a man starved. Your toes were curling, your heels pushing into his shoulder blades and pushing him further into you. Your hands curl into his hair. 

“You taste like fucking heaven. Our perfect, beautiful, otherworldly little slut.” 

“How does it feel knowing everyone in this room has tasted this perfect cunt?” The breath from him speaking felt like ecstasy as it went over your puffy red cunt.  

“Fuck.” Your eyes rolled back. 

He pulls away and you whine, then squeak when he slaps your pussy. “I asked a question.” He was just adding fuel to the flame. 

“It feels so fucking good. Like I'm a God.” You couldn’t help the truth bubbling out. Anything to get his tongue back inside you. Your pussy was throbbing so hard you were sure they could all hear it. You were a greedy little thing. 

“You are a God, you are our God that tastes so fucking good it’s addictive.” He whispered as if the sentence was a prayer. 

He then put his mouth to use. He rolled your bud around with his tongue. Having the raw, targeted motions made you more sensitive. Causing pleasurable shocks to go through your body. 

“Only we get to make you feel like this, only us. You are ours.” 

“Your curves, your plushness, Gods. Perfection.” 

Right as your thighs began to shake, right as your stomach began to clench and twist, he stopped. 

You could not help the whine. Feyre whined too. It seems the boys had planned something. 

The little bitches had edged you both. “She’s ready for you.” Rhysand smirked at your husband, his lips coated in your slick. 

Azriel grabbed your legs and pulled them onto his shoulders so quickly it caused you to yelp. The head of his cock slapping your pussy lips. 

Feyre was then laid right next to you, both men were now on the bed on their knees. 

Realization set in, these bastards were putting you two in mating presses. 

Rhysand bent down to kiss his mate, when he pulled away, she smirked. “You taste so good with Y/N’s pussy smeared all over your lips. My new favorite dessert.” 

Before you could see Rhysands reaction, Azriel pulled your attention towards him. “Look at you being the favorite slut of the group.” 

Your pussy clenched around nothing which caused you to pitifully whine. “You want me to fill that pussy, baby?” Azriel asked. “Show who has the biggest wingspan?” 

“Mhm.” You whined again. 

“Your wish is my command, baby.” 

And together, both him and Rhys, pushed into their wives pussies. 

You let out a guttural moan as the delicious stretch came. Then the feeling of being pleasantly full. Almost to the point of too much. You couldn’t help the tears that came out of your eyes. Since the beginning of the night you’ve been pent up and to finally feel the release and that all the build up was coming to an amazing moment. 

Your cunt greedily sucked him in, as if welcoming him home. “You’ve always been made for me.” You whispered. You two together were truly like a puzzle, the way your bodies reacted to each other was proof of that. 

The fat head of his cock hit your g-spot and the world went white. Your gummy walls felt like heaven to him. And this felt like heaven to you. 

“Fuck.” You moaned as he began pounding into you. He curled in on you, his arms came around to your back and up to your shoulders, holding you in place as his harsh thrusts dove into you. Azriel’s balls were slapping against your ass, a feeling that will never get old. His head going to your neck. 

Sounds surrounded you, Azriels panting against your skin. Azriel and Rhysands grunts. The sounds of skin slapping, gasps and moans that fell from Feyres lips like a prayer. You could feel the sweat from your back clinging to the bedding on top. Azriels breath against your neck, adding to the pleasure. Your nails clawing at Azriels back. 

The bed was moving with all four of you on it. You heard something in the frame snap but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if the bed fell through the floor. 

You turned your head to the side to see Feyre getting pounded into so hard her eyes were rolling back. Rhysand had pinned her hands to the bed with his own and practically flattened her against the bedding. 

It was so fucking hot. 

She turned her head, her mascara smeared and her lips puffy and red. Skin so beautifully flushed. You knew you looked the same to her. Beautiful. You two held eye contact as you were pounded within an inch of your lives, the act alone felt more intimate than kissing. 

All of it together made the rope finally snap. 

You clenched around your husband's cock hard. Hard enough that it caused him to gasp. 

“Fuck, you always clench around me so good, baby. I’m almost there, yeah?” He murmured. Making sure it was okay to continue pounding into your g-spot. 

“Use me, Azriel.” The overstimulation didn’t scare you. It thrilled you. You loved squirting and you were ready to do it. “Use me like a fucking toy.” 

You didn’t know he could thrust harder in the moment, but he did. You held his sweaty head against your neck. It felt like he was going even deeper, which you didn’t know was possible. He bit into the area between your shoulder and neck, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. 

You heard Feyre’s tell-tale noise and then both her and Rhysand finished. You could tell based on their sounds and the smells. 

Then you felt the tingly feeling of when you’re about to squirt. “Az.” You whined and clenched him hard. 

His lips grazed your neck as he spoke. “I know, I’m there.” You felt his cock release and then let yourself go. 

Your pussy clamped down on him so hard he groaned and collapsed on top of you. The release with Az always felt like you were reborn. Free. Cherished. You knew you had absolutely soaked Feyre and Rhysand’s bed, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 

“Did so fucking good baby.” You said and kissed his temple. 

Rhysand rolled over onto the other side of Feyre, Azriel eventually pulled out of you and just flopped on the other side of you. Rhysand snapped his fingers and all of you were in clean sheets and were clean. Still felt grimy but you could live with it until you could bathe. He had the courtesy to magic a blanket over the four of you. 

The room was silent except for your panting. 

“So.” Rhys began. 

“We’re doing that again right?” Feyre finished. 

“Yeah.” Azriel panted. 

“Fuck yeah.” You agreed. “I already have ideas.” 

Feyre snorted, “of course you do. Can’t wait for you to experience the wonders of Y/N’s perverted mind, babe.” She said and you heard her punch her husband's shoulder. 

Azriel chuckled, “The shadows fucking her with Truthteller was her idea.” 

“Fuck.” 

[mwahsol]

Hot sauce makes me nervous

Description: You have been invited to go on Hot One's First We Feast. It was recently announced that you're releasing an album but when some were looking through the title names they noticed some were romantic names, there have been rumors of you and a specific Uconn basketball player, leading there to already be a lot of attention on the anticipated album. Later on in the interview, you get asked about a specific song already out asking you who and/or what was the inspiration for it. I am using Sabrina and her music as well from other artists as yours in this because I can't think of good song titles…enjoy :)

“It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we’re joined by Y/n L/n, she is one of the most talked about artists. Her debut album from 2021 still to this day is one of the most played in the last four years, some of her latest singles being Please Please Please, Espresso, Nonsense, and The Diner. As well as her new album called Sort n’ Sweet. Y/n L/n welcome to the show.” Sean announces while turning to look at you during the end as to give you the greeting.

“Hi thank you for inviting me, this has been a dream of mine to be here so I am honored and nervous,” you reply a bit nervous since you're fangirling on the inside.

“We’re excited to have you, how are you feeling going into this, are you a fan of hot sauce or prefer to keep things more tame?” He starts with a simple question to try and get you a bit comfortable, keeping things light and steady.

“Umm, I wouldn't say I'm a fan.. when I'm out at dinner I don't go for the spicy flavors but like as a small snack like chips or something yes I'm a fan. Hot sauce makes me all sweaty and nervous if I'm honest.” You say giggling towards the end because you know if you lied your girlfriend's team would never let you live it down when they watch this. “Like one time I thought it was a good idea to try those hot soups filled with peppers and stuff I started to tear up by like the fifth bite.”

At your retelling of the event, Sean is also laughing with you before he starts asking you the question he's prepared and having to dig in.

“I never eat wings with bones in them so this is a little new to me,” you tell him while taking your first bit of the first wing.

“Really? I thought most ate them with the bone in.”

“Yeah I just have an irrational fear of my teeth falling out if I bite down on the bone, that's also why I hate eating with forks.”

Sean and the rest of the people behind the cameras can't help but laugh at your admission. In the background of everyone laughing with you both, you can hear her laughing as well knowing that what you're saying is very much true. Hearing her you turn your head subtly, thinking people wouldn't notice this when posted, looking at her laughing admiring her for a second. You would find out later on people could decently see you turn your head, and if you listened close enough you could hear Paige's laughter in the back.

As the show went on Sean asking you questions about your career, your opinions on your songs, and how you came to be a singer, he asks, “So your song Let the Light In is one of your more romantic yet darker songs. Is there a story behind it or how did the inspiration come to you to create a song like this?”

When hearing his question you started worrying a bit knowing the inspiration wasn't just yours but Paige's too. You look at her in a way asking if she's ok with you answering knowing that this involves a personal situation with her and yourself, when you see her nod and give you an encouraging smile you know she's giving you the go-ahead and will be supportive of your answer. “Well, I wrote the song from my girlfriend mainly, when she had a serious injury and was in a dark place at the time when I met her. As she slowly got better the day she was cleared to play again she told me that she was grateful to have me because meeting me was like a light coming into her life encouraging her to get better. When she told me that I cried because I admitted to her that when I met her I was also at a dark place in my life so meeting her was also like the sun shining after the storm for me. We are each other's lights so I wrote the song for her.” You answer tearing up at the memory but smiling remembering her face when you told her she's your light too.

“It such a heartwarming thing to see how you can take special memories like that and write something beautiful for it, thank you for sharing.” He replied also smiling fondly at you seeing how you made sure with Paige first and telling such a personal moment.

“Thank you too for asking,” you know some interviews would keep pushing for more details, and you're grateful he didn't seeing as how it's not just your story to tell.

By the ninth wing, you started crying while laughing, there were funny instances from you getting a wing and running to Paige telling her to eat it since she was dying by laughing at you, to you falling out of your chair from how fast you turned and reached to grab the milk from the table away from you.

“I feel like my makeup with melting off just by my sweat and tears,” you say struggling to just sit upright but still laughing at your situation.

“Yeah, you look like it.” You heard Paige mumble in the background teasing you knowing it would get a reaction out of you.

“Babe I swear I will go back there and pour this hot sauce down your throat.” Threatening her, not being cautious anymore, while you felt like your mouth was on fire. This makes her laugh even harder as well as the crew and Sean.

After most of the laughter settled down Sean gets ready to ask another question. “This past year you have been spotted at a lot more WCBB and WNBA games, when did you get into watching women's basketball, and why?”

“When I was younger I had brothers that played basketball, they would teach me to play, and tried to get me to watch the NBA. As most big brothers do I just never could get into watching men play but anytime I would find a WNBA game you could bet I was fighting for the controller to put on the game. This year I’ve had a bit more free time since the tour for my last album was done and I took a bit of a break before I started writing this new album so I decided to attend as many as I could.” You weren't technically lying but you did leave out the part where you would mainly go to Uconn games to see your girlfriend back on the court and support her.

“Do you still play?”

“Yeah, a bit nothing serious though,” which is true if anyone on the team asks you to play you would say yes. Paige, while you are both away from Connecticut, if she finds a court shell beg you to play. Even though they're very much significantly taller you'll sometimes land a few points.

“Alright Y/n last one,” he tells you while shaking the last bottle.

“Oh gosh ok ok,” You can feel yourself shaking a little with nervousness but you have to see it through, or else she will never let you forget it. Shaking the bottle as well you try to put a of hot sauce enough to get it but not too much where you're burn your tongue off.

“Before I do this I want the camera and people to see that I did put some on there so she can't say I wussed out,” you tell everyone holding up your wing and looking directly at Paige while she shakes her head laughing at your expression.

“Yes, no one can claim you didn't go through with it, going out with a bang,” Sean tells you backing you up.

When you bite down you can already feel yourself regretting this. You start sweating again, eyes tearing up, nosey runny, you're defiantly making her drive you to go get ice cream.

“So Y/n you stated that in you're elementary through middle school years you took ballet lessons,” as soon as he said those words you knew where this was going and started to mentally prepare yourself, “we wanted to see if you could choreograph a small routine to your song All mine.”

“Of course, I can't promise it'll be good,” you respond while laughing and sniffling.

“Alright let's move these tables and chairs,” Sean says while laughing with you.

When doing your routine you only got a few steps in before you stopped and could continue because of your laughter, “I'm sorry omg I can't do it.”

“Fanominal dance couldn't have asked for better. There it is Y/n L/n taking on the wings of death, living to tell the tale, is there anything you would like to promote.”

“Short n’ Sweet comes out August, listen to it please it'll make me feel better from this. Watch the WNBA they're really cool and watch WCBB they're really cool too.” Biding everyone goodbye while still panting a little.

“Those wings got you good hm baby?” Paige says while driving to a McDonalds to get you a ice cream you almost demanded for.

“Paige, honey, I love you but I swear on everything I love I will make this car crash if we don't get ice cream. I can feel my face melting off.” You claim not even looking at her too busy trying not to keep sniffling.

“Ok ok we're almost there,” she can't help but laugh. I mean can you blame her, you were excited to do this a few hours ago now you look light you lost a fight.

After finally getting you your ice cream it's like your mood did a complete 180. “Thank you my love,” you say as you kiss her all over her face showing her how much you wanted that ice cream.

“The switch-up is crazy,” Paige says while chuckling at your attitude and holding your waist.

“I can stop.”

“Now I never said that come here mama.”

I'm slowly defrosting y'all (I'm losing my mind.) ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoyed this <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[cece693]

Yk outerbanks? Rafe cameron x male reader . Riding reader + belly bulge. That is all. I hope u take my request into consideration also ur writing is great btw love it

So, I haven't really seen outer banks nor do I know a lot (other than what people post on Tumblr), so I mainly focused on the smut. No timeline nor background written for this, just jumping straight into it.

tags: yeah no title cause what am I supposed to name this, beast in the sheets?, like no thank you, hope you enjoy, still not comfortable with writing smut but practice makes perfect, I guess

Rafe’s head tilts back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every broken moan that slips from his lips. Your hands settle on his hips, fingers digging in just enough to ground him as he bounces eagerly on your cock. His skin is warm under your touch, nearly trembling from the intensity of sensation. You can see the slight curve low on his abdomen whenever you thrust upward—a bulge that makes your breath catch. It’s a mesmerizing reminder of just how deeply he’s taking you.

The lamp in the corner casts a soft glow over his sweat-slicked chest. Each rise and fall of his body seems to pull another sharp groan from both of you. The pace he’s keeping makes your heart pound; pleasure knots tight in your stomach. Rafe’s eyes flutter open for a moment, and the sight you share—a raw mix of pleasure and longing—nearly undoes you on the spot.

His rhythm stutters. The next roll of his hips draws a ragged noise from his throat. He leans forward, bracing his hands on your chest once more. Every shift of his weight presses you deeper, intensifying that delicious pressure. He curls forward until your foreheads almost meet, his soft panting brushing your lips.

“Fuck,” he breathes. He’s never been one to mince words, and the husky vulnerability in his tone sets your pulse racing even more. His thighs flex beneath your palms, coaxing you to match his movements. Each time you thrust upward, you feel the heat around you tighten. Rafe’s next moan sounds almost desperate, caught between bliss and sheer overload. “Need you,” he manages to say, voice cracking.

You shift your angle, hands guiding him as you thrust up in a way that hits his g-spot perfectly. The result is instantaneous: his back arches, a choked cry escaping his lips. For a split second, his stomach clenches, and the bulge where your bodies join seems even more pronounced. He rides you desperately, frantically, until he can't no more. You feel him tighten around you, body seizing in ecstasy. His nails dig into your chest as he cums. The sight of him unraveling—head thrown back, lips parted, cheeks flushed—pushes you past your own threshold. A rush of warmth spreads through your core as you come inside, holding Rafe firmly against you. Your hold is unnecessary; as if Rafe would ever oppose you cumming inside him.

Neither of you speak, and somehow that’s perfect. The quiet is comforting, punctuated only by soft pants and the rapid beat of your hearts. You can’t help but smooth a hand up his damp back, savoring the warmth of him pressed so close. When Rafe finally lifts his head, his lips brush against yours in a slow, tender kiss. There’s a hint of a smirk when he pulls away. His voice is still low, shaken by aftershocks of pleasure as he murmurs, “You have no idea how badly I needed that.”

[tonycries]

Some answers are written in the stars. Others, you must ask to know.

How do you make your text/ titles gradient?

Patorjk’s Text Color Fader!! My life-saver frfr, I just use the steps of the tutorial provided here <3 However, this unfortunately can’t be done on mobile 😔

Where do you find the manga panels for your headers?

I usually find the panels and/ or titles on mangacap account on Twitter (eg. HornetPills, FAKKU, and lewdxvisuals). Most of my headers are from → “Lady K & The Sick Man”, “Infiltration! Agent on the Edge”, and “Hachisuka’s Family Kotoribako.”

How do you make your headers?

On Canva! I did a tutorial for getting that colorful ombré look right here <3

Where do you make your memes/ get those silly reaction pics?

I make all my memes on imgflip, and the unhinged pics - including the infamous werewolf ones - are mainly from Pinterest and stan Twitter. 

What are your writing tips?

Here are the writing tips n' quirks that work most often for me, and here is for if you want something more practical/ to help with writer's block!!

What fandoms do you write for/ have you written for?

Currently, only JJK - but if you checkout my first masterlist you'll see that I have written for a lil' bit of AOT and Haikyuu.

What is your posting schedule?

9:30PM - 10PM EST on Wednesdays and Sundays for my fics; and you’ll usually catch me answering asks from 1:30PM onwards and 11:30PM onwards the rest of those days. Tiny reminder though that I don’t answer asks on days I post my writing and for 24 hours beforehand (ya girl will be busy typing away something diabolical 😩.)

Why did you miss a posting day?

I try very, very hard not too n’ I miss a posting day very rarely - I promise!! 99% of the time it’s because I’m super sick, though, and I’ll let you babygirls know prior to that. Dw, I almost always bounce back on schedule for the next posting day <3

Are you taking requests at the moment?

Noooope!! Sorry lovelies, but requests are closed. I do take suggestions and thirsts where I’ll just brainstorm or add on to the idea if I really like it, however. Something that looks like this or this.

Where are you from?

Sri Lankan through n’ through rahhh 🇱🇰 Feel free to yap with me in my inbox about it!

What is your gender/ what are your pronouns?

I’m a girlie n’ I go by she/her pronouns yup yup 😌 

So then, why does everyone call you “daddy Tony”?

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE IT STARTED BUT DADDY TONY IS SIMPLY DADDY TONY 😈 DOESN’T MATTER THE GENDER 😈😈 (+ Tony is just what everyone irl calls me too so.)

If that makes you uncomfortable though, you can always call me simply Tony without the daddy part, or Toe knee, or Toenail, or mommy Toenail- you get the point. My lovely babygirls love to make up a lot of names for me n’ I haven’t heard one that doesn’t make me CACKLE just yet 😭

Why do you call your followers “babygirls”?

Ah, I’m daddy Tony and you all are just my babygirls heheh. It started off as a joke at first because I tend to start most of my announcements with “bonjour babygirls” even irl, but it eventually just grew to me referring to all my gorgeous followers as Tony’s Cult of Babygirls - took a page out of Geto’s book there.

I also tend to sift through a variety of pet names when responding to individual asks/ comments - like sweetheart, lovely, ml, gorgeous. etc. Do let me know straight-up if this makes you uncomfortable, because using those is simply my default.

Why didn’t you respond to the thing I tagged you in?

*SOBS* I’m saur sorry about that, I get tagged in a lot of things so either my notifications were clogged n’ I didn’t get it, or I simply missed it amongst everything. I love responding to things y’all tag me in, though - so send me an ask to double check!!

Did you see my ask or was it eaten up – you haven’t answered yet?

Pinky-promise daddy Tony’s not ignoring you!! If I haven’t responded to an ask, it’s usually one of these reasons: 

I get a LOOOT of asks daily - and while I do try my best to respond to every single one - I might take some time to get to yours. Please, please, please don’t send a follow-up ask about your previous one unless it’s really, really important, or until it’s been two weeks since I haven’t responded. That only adds more to my inbox, and I do answer before it reaches that point.

I might have gotten an ask that was very similar to yours, n’ responded to that one instead of both.

Your ask went against my rules/ it was a request (because my requests are closed, most asks like that end up written down in a doc I have. But they won’t be publicly answered until requests open up/ I just decide to write it.) Again: Thirsts and suggestions are completely okay – just no requests!

Your question was already answered in my FAQ - in that case, yippee I hope you got your answer, lovely <3

Sometimes my asks actually get eaten up by this site, and I apologize for that 😔 Like I said, if it’s been two weeks then please do resend me the ask!!

Who are the anons that you have right now?

🧃, 🐹, 🐁, 🔮, 🪦, 🍙, toji titties anon, ⛸️, scribbler anon, 🌳, ♍, medicine major anon, gojo big cock gagger anon, 🫃, 🗣️🩰, <3 anon, orgy anon, 🐝, marketing major anon, 🫶🏻💕, 🧋, 🐠, 🐛, 🗣️🎬‼️, 😼, 🐇, ✏️, 🪶🧠, 🌸, 👀, 🧝🏽, 🌦️, 🌺, 🍭, 🌙, 🔔❤️⚙️, 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 anon, neuroscience anon, 🎀💄, 🫐, 💋, 🦴, 🦎, 🦩, 🌱, 🫀, 🍓, CJ anon, 🐨, 🦤, 🐚, 💃, 🦇, 🌛, 🪼, 💤, 🍫, ⭐, 😈, spooky sweet tea anon, 🧠, 🧌, 🗣️, 🐄, corpse goon anon, 🦐, tiny anon, 🌟🦈, 💧, 🎱, 🦢, dewdrop anon, 🍵, 🥗, 🥠, :) anon, 🥥, 🐩, 🌝, 🪽🦦, (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) anon, silly anon, jester anon, 🐡, 🎀,  anon H, Marchailina, 👟, horny anon, b. anon, 🍰, 🪢, 🦚, lads anon, lads anon #2, 😻, 💐, 🐢, 🍣, 🃏, ex Nanami-hater anon, ovulating anon, 🐼, 🐜, 🦗, 🚀, vet major anon, 😔, 🐦, void anon, 🦢🐚, gojo convertee anon, therapist gojo anon, 💗, 🧸, 🍄, 🐾🐕, ✨🍀, 🐦‍⬛, lawnmower anon, Nanami’s 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 anon, 🕷️, 🍞, Nanami anon, ☀️🪵, reading sesh anon, 🐸, 🏵️, 🍄😈, 🪨🧍, law student anon, 🦶, 🔖, 🪞, 🍯, 💌, 🎧, 🪐, 🫆, Hoyoverse anon, 🐈, 🐮, 👅🍑

Why do you scare me?

I promise I don't bite unless asked to!!