#mostly the idea of heavy feeling like it had to be some kind of momentous occasion or mean something

[oaksgrove]

No Surprises.

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x female!Reader

synopsis: What starts as Simon’s small act of kindness—leaving flowers on an abandoned grave—takes an unexpected turn when he learns the dark truth about the man buried there. A chance meeting at another grave, however, leads to a connection he never saw coming.

warnings: mentions of death, grief, murder (briefly described, not graphic), guilt, emotional vulnerability. Mostly fluff with humor and a touch of angst.

word count: 1367

a/n: Inspired by a hilarious, and slightly dark, Twitter thread that I stumbled across (this one) and written while listening to Radiohead—so, yeah, heavily inspired. This spiraled into something bigger than I planned, but I loved how it turned out!

Simon visits his mom pretty often. At least once a week when he isn’t on deployment.

He would buy her bouquets and her grave was the most well-taken care of all Southern Cemetery, it frequently resembled a solid third place at Chelsea Flower Show.

But the guy next to her didn’t have much luck. His grave was abandoned and never received flowers, the only readable information about the man was his name and that he died on christmas day at age 33.

There was something unsettling about the headstone that Simon couldn’t shake. Maybe it was the way the chiseled name seemed to fade quicker than the others around it, or the date etched so starkly—Christmas Day. It felt like the grave itself bore a story too heavy for time to carry.

Every week, as Simon walked past that abandoned grave, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Not for the man, but for what the man represented—a life wasted, forgotten, abandoned by time and loved ones. It was as if Simon could almost hear the echoes of the man’s lonely final days, a voice in the silence that reminded him of his own lost moments, his own griefs that had never been healed. He was doing it for both of them, in a way—he was making up for something he couldn’t even name.

No one ever left him flowers and each time he passed the grave, his eyes lingered on the wilted weeds and worn stone, an ache settling in his chest.

The feeling was eating Si alive.

He thought of his mother, resting just a few rows down, her grave adorned with flowers he could no longer place there himself. Maybe, just maybe, this stranger’s memory deserved a similar kindness… when he looked outside the iron gate and saw the pop-up florist and had an idea.

That's how Simon started buying flowers for a deceased man he had never met. And after some time Simon even started adding little touches—fresh soil to the base of the tombstone, cleaning the headstone when the rain left stains, sometimes even rearranging the flowers into a new arrangement.

Simon didn’t know why he cared—it wasn’t like the man would notice. Still, an odd sense of duty settled on him, as though he’d become the custodian of a memory long forsaken.

It was like he was making the world better, one bunch of flowers at a time. He did this for quite some time, but never told it to a soul. He knew it sounded weird, kinda lonely but he came to think about him as a friend. The loneliness of it all gnawed at him. He wondered, was he doing this for the stranger—or for himself, to fill some silent void he couldn’t quite name?

As Simon approached the grave that week, the familiar pang returned, sharper than before. He stood still, the wind teasing the edge of his jacket. The flowers in his hand felt weightier than usual, as though the guilt he carried seeped into their petals.

“What am I doing here?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. But no one answered—not the man beneath the stone nor the ghost of his own regrets.

He wondered if there was a hidden connection between them, something that drew Simon to him. Maybe they went to the same school, or maybe both supported Manchester United football club or whatever. So he decided to google his name.

Finger hovering over the enter button, he hesitated. It was silly, he knew, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to unearth something better left buried.

When Simon first Googled the man’s name, he found nothing.

But, just like Price says, “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.”

The days had passed, and curiosity gnawed at him until, one night, he gave in. With a few beers in a pub with the 141 clouding his judgment and hours of searching through online records, he finally found a Newspaper article.

His pulse quickened. When the article loaded, Simon froze. The words blurred together at first, the screen swimming in his vision.

‘Family Tragedy Ends in Suicide on Christmas Day.’

“Murdered her…” he whispered aloud, his mouth going dry.

The words clawed their way up his throat, and the details stood out like jagged shards—murdered his wife and in-laws on a Christmas night. His hands shook as he scrolled, the bedroom suddenly feeling too small. The man he’d been honoring wasn’t a victim but a villain.

His wife didn’t leave him flowers because he murdered her on christmas day. After murdering his wife he also killed her parents and then jumped in front of the only train passing in Piccadilly Train Station that christmas night.

His stomach churned as he read on, his hand trembling against the mouse. By the end, he wasn’t sure if the nausea came from the man’s actions or the realization that Simon had spent years tending to the grave of a killer.

Simon’s heart sank while reading all the news, he felt like a terrible person and felt so sorry for his wife and parents. He felt he needed to do something to soothe the guilty and that's the situation he found himself in, he wouldn’t buy them flowers for almost two years but he was going to apologise.

After searching where they were buried he bought them flowers and drove to the Blackley Cemetery.

The smell of damp earth and fresh-cut flowers hung in the air, mingling with the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional distant crow. It was quiet, reverent, a sanctuary—and yet, under it all, a gnawing sadness.

Standing in front of their graves, Simon’s hands trembled. The flowers he’d brought felt heavy, like a physical manifestation of the guilt he hadn’t even known he was carrying.

What right did he have to apologize for a crime he never committed?

The flowers became more than just a gift; they were a ritual. With every petal he placed, Simon felt as though he were piecing together something broken—not the strangers’ lives, but perhaps his own. And when he laid that last bouquet at the foot of the victims’ graves, it was less an offering and more an apology whispered through the blooms.

Kneeling before the graves, Simon fumbled with the bouquet, his fingers clumsy and unsure. He cleared his throat, but his voice cracked anyway. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, the words escaping like a confession.

The headstones didn’t respond, their silence deafening, but Simon kept going. ‘I didn’t know. I should’ve…’ His words trailed off, swallowed by the damp air, leaving only the faint rustle of trees to answer him and a nudge on his shoulder.

‘Hi,’ she said, her voice calm but mildly woolly. ‘Why are you leaving flowers for my aunt and grandparents?’

Simon was startled. He turned, finding a woman standing a few feet away, arms crossed but her expression more puzzled than angry. His throat tightened. ‘I, uh… it’s complicated,’ he stammered, his face flushing under her steady gaze

Her eyes were full of something he couldn’t place—curiosity, disbelief, maybe even a little amusement. The words he’d rehearsed in his mind felt silly now, but he said them anyway, rambling about flowers and apologies.

Simon shifted, glancing from her face to the graves. “It’s… a long story, one I’m not even sure makes sense.”

She tilted her head, lips quirking into a half-smile. “You know, weird as it is, those are usually the best stories. So, how about you tell me over coffee?” Her face softened, the tension easing as he listens, there was no judgment, only a quiet understanding that unsettled Simon more than anything.

He blinked, surprised. ‘I, uh… yeah. I’d like that.’

As they walked away from the cemetery, the weight in Simon’s chest lightened. Maybe it was the fresh air, or maybe it was the odd sense of peace that seemed to hang between them now. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something had shifted. The ache in his chest had faded, replaced by a soft, unfamiliar warmth. It was as if, in trying to make the world a little better for a stranger, he’d found a piece of something he’d been missing too.

[zarla-s]

regrets are for the weak, heavy

[patreon]

[cavillscurls]

Sugar & Spice | Joel Miller x Reader

This is a follow up to Soft & Sweet. It can be read as a standalone, but it is highly encouraged to be read as a sequel!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You lose your virginity to Joel Miller.

Warnings/tags: MDNI. Foul language. Alcohol consumption. Drunken behavior. Arguing. Implied age gap (no numbers specified). Insecure Joel. Soft Joel. Loss of virginity. Reader is not clueless, just inexperienced. Praise. Dirty talk. Pet names. Joel guides reader through it. Oral (f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected p in v. Mentions of pain during sex. After care. Unbearable fluff. No mentions of body type or race, except slight implication reader is shorter than Joel. Platonic Ellie x Reader.

Word count: 9.8k (i’m sorry??)

soft!joel collection masterlist.

a/n: i am so thrilled to be sharing this with y’all! i’ve been working so diligently on it, and i’m really proud of the final product. special thanks for my bea @cupofjoel for reading so many parts of this and listening to me ramble on and on about ideas. tbh, we have also decided game joel suits this story a lot better, but if you’re imagining hbo joel, he canonically has long hair for this. see pic above. ty all for all the support on part 1!

You went on your date.

Two weeks after sharing your first kiss with Joel Miller, and you had yet to cross paths with him again. The excuse was air tight: Maria was only weeks away from labor which meant neither she nor Tommy were on the patrol routes. Times shifted, and for the next month, you and Joel would be on separate schedules. You knew it wasn’t permanent, that he would have no choice but to face you in a few weeks. But something about the way he averted from your gaze within Jackson’s wall, the quick pick up to his feet whenever you would accidentally cross paths in the town square, had your stomach in a knot.

Joel was avoiding you.

At first, the realization devastated you. You spent days cooped up in your room when you had no other necessary duties, ashamed of the tears you let stain your pillowcase. Your chest lingered with an unfamiliar ache that had once been ignited by his lips, but was now a throbbing reminder of a moment shared and lost. You pitied yourself, and it was sickening.

Then, you were angry. How dare he? Who did he think he was? Even if it was just any old run of the mill kiss, you didn’t think his respect for you would reduce that drastically. To not even acknowledge your presence? It was like a knife to the back. And after dwelling with that demon for some time, you came to realize you had two options: to face him or pretend it never happened.

The former was out of the question.

Therefore, you reduced yourself to compliance. Life couldn’t stop over a momentary lapse of judgment, and while reluctant, you decided to accept the invitation of drinks at the Tipsy Bison. Noah was nice enough; tall, slender, and dazzling hazel eyes that lit up when he smiled. You had met him at the market one afternoon, recognizing one another through a few mutual acquaintances. There were only a handful of people around your age group in Jackson, and everyone knew everyone, for the most part. It was something of a worst nightmare. But assimilating was survival, so that following Friday night, you found yourself sitting across from him in a booth towards the back of the bar, a heavy pour of vodka and seltzer water filling your glass.

Thank goodness for alcohol was what you spent most of the evening thinking. Noah was the kind man who loved to talk, mostly about himself. And while you were content on listening to get yourself through the evening, you couldn’t help but feel bored. Anxiety filled your stomach then; was this how Joel felt when you talked his ear off on patrols? 

Fuck. Why were you still thinking about him? This excursion had been a means of forgetting about him and the disappointment of his attitude towards you. But the thought of him only seemed to increase when you realized the company of the man before you was even more disheartening than Joel’s blatant rejection of you. 

You felt nothing for Noah. Not anywhere near the way you felt for Joel, seeming to burn from the inside out at the mere thought of him. 

When your date came to its natural conclusion, Noah offered to walk you home to which you quickly declined, using the excuse of needing to use the restroom and not wanting to keep him waiting so late. Truthfully, you did not want to be alone with him. The expectant connotation the idea held rubbed you the wrong way. Not like it did with Joel. You would welcome a secluded space again with him. 

As soon as you were able to convince Noah you would be fine and bid your farewells with the exchange of an awkward hug and forced smiles, you ran into the bar's bathroom, immediately seeking the sink to splash cold water over your burning cheeks. This was ridiculous, and if you couldn’t get yourself together soon, you were sure you would lose it. You stared at yourself in the mirror, scowling. Something had to give. 

Marching back out into the crowded room, you made certain Noah had left before seating yourself up at the bar and ordering another drink. Drinking alone; bleak, but effective. And by your third vodka soda, you were feeling much better. Invigorated, even.  To the point where you strode right out of the bar, a bit of an uneven waver to your step, and down the main strip of town. Impulsive and intoxicated, you decided you had every right to protect your sanity, your wellbeing, your heart. 

You were going to give Joel Miller a piece of your mind.

Joel didn't know how badly he wanted you until he had you. 

A moment so brief, and yet, it was ingrained into the depths of his very soul. How was he supposed to have said no to you? He knew how; he was a grown ass man, and should have had more self control. He should have been more adamant in his denial of your request. Should have ended the conversation before it even started. But the moment you flashed him those somber doe eyes, he knew he was far too weak to listen to any sort of rationale. Thus, the feel of your silken soft lips buzzed on him for days to come. He had the curves of your body mapped out on his hands, even though they only touched you for a short while. And your scent. It hung around him like a cloud, a drug he got addicted to off of one hit. 

He needed to clear his head. Therefore, when Ellie asked if she could spend the night at Dina’s, Joel happily obliged. A quiet home to himself. There was nothing Joel Miller enjoyed more. 

He settled himself on the couch, keeping only the glow of a lamp on as a source of light, a glass of whiskey he had traded for in hand. He swore he would only drink it on special occasions, but the week's torment proved it necessary. Closing his eyes and leaning back against the cushions, Joel was prepared to will himself to sleep if that meant he could have a moment of reprieve, but as soon as he was beginning to find his peace, a harsh knock pounding against the front door sent him startling to attention. When it came for the second time, he jumped to his feet, pacing towards the door with visible annoyance to his wrinkled brow. 

“You’re gon’ wake up the whole damn neighborhood if you keep knockin’ so—”

He halted his surly rant when the door swung fully open, and Joel was shocked to see you standing on his front porch with a bitter look in your eyes. He breathed your name almost questioningly, as if he couldn’t believe it was actually you standing there. A figment of his imagination haunting him for how often he had thought about you over the week, entertaining the idea, for a split second, that you may not be real. 

But then, your hands were on his chest, shoving at him until he stumbled back from the doorway, and you were stomping into the house, uninvited. 

“The hell are you doin’?!” he barked at you. Joel had never witnessed such a blatant display of indignation from you, at least never directed towards him. To barge over here, unannounced, and show such clear disrespect— 

“Why are you avoiding me?!” you screeched, and his agitated expression instantly fell.

Oh. 

He saw it then, the bloodshot look in your eyes, the sweat to your brow. He could smell it, the alcohol mixed with your natural aroma he had convinced himself he could still sense around him the entire week. But now, it was here. At his doorstep. Drowning him, consuming him. 

Joel sighed heavily. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ wasted.” Clearly, that was the wrong answer, because as soon as he said it, you were lurching after him again. But before your palms could make contact with his chest, Joel grabbed at your wrists, stopping them mid air. 

Okay, so you were an angry drunk. Great. 

“Cut it out,” he seethed, taking a step forward to tower over you. You were looking up at him fiercely, and he hated how much he loved the heated look in your eyes. He would never admit it to you, but Joel rather enjoyed your attitude. It was endearing. Cute. Whenever you went on your seemingly endless rants during your patrols together, he often found it hard to conceal the smirk that would creep onto his lips at your relentless slaughter of whoever had pissed you off lately. The tremble to your bottom lip that he noticed now, however? That he was enjoying a lot less. 

He kept your wrists in the confines of his hands when he spoke. “M’not…not avoidin’ you.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. He wasn’t necessarily doing it on purpose, and the shift in patrol schedules made it an easy out. But Joel knew it wouldn’t be that simple. You were far too smart, and he respected you far too much to lie to you 

“Bullshit,” you slurred, hands balling into tiny fists against his chest. “You–you don’t even look at me. You walk away from me when you see me in town. And–and you won’t, won’t talk to me.” Your words were a sputtered mess, coming out through trembling lips that fueled tear rimmed eyes, leaving Joel to frown deeply at the sight. Oh, sad drunk was worse. So, so much worse. 

It was true, he hadn’t spoken to you once since he kissed you that day in the safehouse. The question of why was one he couldn’t seem to answer; maybe he was worried he overstepped, regardless of how adamantly you asked him to. Or even more frightening, he was afraid that you regretted it. That you may never look at him the same way again, the only partner he could even remotely imagine tolerating was now going to be taken away from him over his foolish, selfish indulgence.  

“You–you kissed me, and–and now y-you don’t want me anymore.” 

Joel’s brows furrowed instantly, and he couldn’t help himself in the way he dropped your wrists from his grip, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. He studied your tear filled eyes with an intense focus, a pain coursing through his gut at the way you looked up at him, sniffling back the growing tears. Joel had seen you cry before, but never at dealing of his own hand. It ate him alive with guilt.

“Hey,” he said sternly, but calmly. That was why you were upset? So troubled over it that you got yourself drunk before coming to his doorstep to confront him? It was supposed to be easy for you to tell him things, tell him everything, but he had made you feel otherwise. More guilt. “That just ain’t true,” he whispered, catching one of the tears that cascaded down your right cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

Joel had never spent this much time so close to you. Save for the moment in the safe house and this one, he didn't think he had ever touched you. He never had any reason to. He was unprepared for how strong the urge to keep touching you was, wallowing in the hope that he never had to let go. 

“Yes, it is,” you argued shakily, your once intense tone losing its strength as you gave way to your emotions. God, he felt like a dick. Joel knew how your brain worked; you probably spent the better half of the week meticulously worrying over what you could have done wrong, when in reality, it was his own compulsions Joel was concerned about. 

“Darlin,’” he breathed, trying to keep his tone as even as possible. “You’re…not thinkin’ right, it's late, why don’t we talk about this in the mornin’?” He really didn’t want to argue with you, and if he was going to, he at least wanted to hear your thoughts in a clear state of mind. Contrary to what you may believe in the moment, Joel did give a shit about what you had to say. 

“You’re just gonna avoid me again,” you muttered, the pout to your bottom lip only increasing the sharp pain of guilt in his gut. 

“No, I won’t.” 

“Yes, you will.” 

“No,” Joel stressed, squeezing your cheeks tenderly between his hands until your lips pursed. Your tears had subsided, but the gloss over your eyes was still present. He so badly wanted to ask what he could do to soothe away your sorrow, but his attention was quickly deterred when you slumped forward with a deep huff, languidly wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face in his chest. 

Initially, Joel froze. This was…new. Despite the large step of kissing you, Joel had never embraced you. The feeling was odd, foreign. He hadn’t hugged anyone other than Ellie or his brother since, well, since the world went to shit. His hands tingled in mid air, body gone ridgid at your sudden closeness. But eventually, he willed himself to relax, trying not to overthink the moment and gradually wrapping his arms firmly around you, one at your waist, the other at your shoulders, pressing you gently into his chest. The alleviation of all his tension was instantaneous. 

“Why don’t I walk you home?” he whispered, letting his fingers paint gentle circles against your scalp. He loved how soft your hair was.  

You shook your head, still nuzzled into his chest. “Don’t wanna go home,” you muttered, and Joel felt his stomach tighten in what he could only decipher as anxiety. That pesky little pest, always gnawing at him from the inside out. 

He could tell by the heaviness to your body and the weight in your voice the alcohol was catching up to you, fatigue nearby. He contemplated the predicament for a good long while, using the time to relish in the warm and comfortable affection of your shared embrace. 

“Alright,” he replied, his voice nearly as low as yours muffled in his shirt. Joel knew it wasn’t the best idea to let you stay, but he was also quickly discovering just how difficult it was for him to deny you. You were both playing a dangerous game. 

Wordlessly, Joel led you up the stairs with one hand at the small of your back, and the other at your bicep for stability. Your steps were heavy, and he noted the way you would lift your hand every few moments to rub at your tired eyes. He couldn’t help but find it painfully adorable. 

There was no harm in you sleeping here, right? He would lead you to his bed, help you get settled, and dutifully take the couch. There, he could spend the rest of the night reeling over his questionable judgment. 

Guiding you up the stairs, Joel made sure to flicker the big light off before maneuvering you into his bedroom. He got you safely seated at the edge of the mattress before you finally gave way to your weak muscles, snorting under his breath at the way you unabashedly splayed back against the mattress, groaning and squeezing your eyes shut. He knew that feeling all too well. 

“Want somethin’ else to sleep in?” he asked, observing the undoubtedly uncomfortable jeans and white button up you’d spent your evening in. But you were already shifting on the bed, curling into a fetal position with your head nuzzled into the pillow he usually slept on. You reached for the covers, pulling them absentmindedly around your body, mumbling a nuh uh. 

Joel sighed. Well, he wasn’t going to get anywhere else with you tonight, that was certain. So instead of dragging out your consciousness any longer, he carefully approached the side of the mattress, adjusting the sheets so they laid nicely over your huddled body, gingerly swiping a strand of hair that had slid over your eyes back away from your face. He stared at you for a moment then. Even in the darkness, he could make out your soft features; long eyelashes tickling your cheeks, lips slightly parted with gentle puffs of air. He didn’t indulge himself in watching you sleep for too long, but he was a bit alarmed at just how long he could have stood there, content in observing such a mundane activity. Of course, it was only because it was you partaking in it. No one else could make dreams look as peaceful. 

He steadied his hands on the mattress, leaning down to press a ghost of a kiss to your temple. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered, leaving the door cracked just the slightest when he left the room. In case you needed him. In case you wanted him. Even if, like it had been so many times before, it was just to have someone to talk to. 

Joel didn’t know how much he missed the sound of your voice until he heard it again.

Sharp, searing pain is what you were awoken to. Mostly behind the eyes, radiating through your skull and throbbing in a way that had you struggling to open them. But just as you were able to get a good squint, the sheer shock of your environment outweighed the pain. You shot up with a gasp, frantically looking around and grasping at the unfamiliar bed sheets until it hit you. You were not in some stranger's bed. 

This was Joel’s room. 

The scent of it alone could’ve told you so, but as you blinked away the lingering fatigue, the night came back to you in pieces. Your less than thrilling date with Noah. Your decision to drown those sorrows with some hefty drinks, which was quickly followed by the even more foolish decision to stomp your way over to Joel Miller's house and tell him off for kissing you then ignoring you for two weeks. 

Oh fuck. 

You cradled your head in your hands. What did you say? Even worse, what did you do? You were a notoriously emotional drunk, and while you couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact words you chose to give Joel, you knew they couldn’t be good. 

Immediately, you began looking around for an escape plan. You could use the window; it was the second story, but these old houses weren’t built too tall and Joel’s yard was covered in grass. Maybe he was still asleep? The front door seemed like a much less likely option. But just as you began contemplating the escape, your eyes quickly fell to the bedside table where a glass of water and a worn bottle of ibuprofen sat. Below each item was a scrap of paper that read drink me and take me, respectively. 

You felt that warmth rush into your chest again. Leaning over, you picked up the slips of paper, running your fingers over the scribbled penmanship. There was something incredibly intimate about him leaving you a handwritten note, and you couldn’t help but savor the feeling. Maybe this was proof alone that you didn’t embarrass yourself too bad last night. 

You reached over for the water and pills then, popping two into your mouth and chugging back the cool liquid when you heard the creak of the bedroom door. You froze, eyes wide over the rim of the glass as you watched it crack open, Joel’s head peeking through seconds later. 

His own brows shot to his forehead. “Oh,” he said quietly, pushing the door open the rest of the way to stand still in the doorframe. “You’re awake.” 

You quickly swallowed the rest of the water, setting the glass back on the table, and attempting to smooth back some of the hair in your face. You probably looked like a mess. Meanwhile, the morning suited Joel. You had never seen him so lax; charcoal sweatpants hanging deliciously on his hips, coupled with a black t-shirt that hugged his body a little too well. His usually tame curls were messy, and your fingers ached with the instinct to touch them. This was certainly a sight you could get used to. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, opting to fiddle with your nails below the sheets instead. “Thank you, um…thank you for taking care of me.” 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, giving you a few gentle nods. “‘Course,” was all he said, and you felt like you could scream. You couldn’t read him, couldn’t decipher the thoughts behind those intense eyes. The anticipation of his mood was almost too much to handle, and before you knew it, the incessant anxiety was taking over. 

“Joel,” you whispered after a long moment, watching the way his brows quirked at the sound of his name. And then, just like they had done so many times before, the flood gates opened. “Joel, I’m — I’m so sorry. I don’t, I don’t know what came over me. I went on that stupid date, and it was just, just awful, and I was mad at you, and didn’t know how to handle it–”  

He held up a hand to cease your prattling, and you did, shutting your mouth and opting to chew on the inside of your lip instead while you anxiously awaited his voice. 

When he dropped his hand, he sighed a heavy sigh, slowly making his way across the room to the bedside. Wordlessly, you shifted over, giving him the space to sit down at the edge of the mattress, turning over his shoulder to face you. The sudden proximity had you tensing. “If anyone should be apologizin’, it’s me.” It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, but you didn’t interrupt. Something in the way his countenance faltered told you this kind of conversation wasn’t all that easy for Joel. 

You felt the air leave your lungs when he looked up at you through hooded eyes, the utter remorse in them palpable, honest. “You trusted me with somethin’ personal, somethin’ special, and I — I broke that trust.” Your heart ached in your chest, and you felt guilty for ever assuming he was incapable of owning up to his mistakes. “And m’sorry,” he concluded. All you could do was stare at him, trying to process his earnest apology. Even though it filled you to the brim with adoration, it still didn’t answer why he had avoided you in the first place. 

“Do you regret it?” you finally whispered, barely audible. You were afraid of the answer. “Do you…do you regret kissing me?” 

The knot returned to his brows. “What? No.” His hand was on your thigh over the blankets then, and you felt your entire body ignite in response. He gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “No, not at all.” 

Taking a brave leap, you carefully placed your own hand atop of his, savoring the familiar roughness. “Then why haven’t you talked to me?” The way your eyes bore into one another, you weren’t sure if you had ever looked at Joel this long. At least not while he was looking back. You thought you would be afraid of the intensity, but quite the contrary. Your bodies had shifted closer to one another on the mattress, like magnets. 

He released another heavy sigh, dropping his eyes to your touching hands. His fingers twitched the slightest bit, and you used the opportunity to slip yours between them, curling them over the top of his hand. You gave him a squeeze back. It’s okay, you wanted to tell him. You can tell me. You can talk to me. But you were patient, knowing Joel was the kind of man who needed to come to you in his own time. 

“‘Cause I– I didn’t expect to like it as much as I did,” he admitted quietly, so quietly you almost missed it. He still didn’t look at you. “And when I felt the way I did about it…I panicked. Didn’t know what the right thing to do was, didn’t know what you were thinkin’ about it all...” His words trailed, and you considered them for a long moment. 

Didn’t know what you were thinkin’ about it all. 

What were you thinking? So many things, too many to count. But right there, sitting in Joel’s bed with his hand on you, his body and breath so close, all you thought about was the good. How good you felt when he kissed you. The bad and ugly melted away with your sadness, your anger. 

“I think…” you started after a beat, your voice almost as soft as his. “I think that I haven’t stopped thinking about it for a single moment since it happened.” 

His eyes were on you again, but this time, there was questioning to them, as if he was searching for any sign that your words were less than sincere. You didn’t give him a second of doubt. Instead, you dragged his hand across your lap and settled it on your hip. He watched you intently, compliant to your ministrations. You used the opportunity to scoot forward again, his hip touching up against your thigh. 

“Yeah?” he asked, quietly. 

“Yeah,” you breathed.

Then, Joel Miller stole your second kiss, and it was just as magical as the first. 

The hand that wasn’t on your hip came to cradle the back of your neck, teasing his lips against yours with a delicate brush before giving you the feeling you craved most over the past two weeks. It bursted inside of you like a goddamn bomb, coating your belly in warmth. 

You leaned into him, gripping his arms, then his shoulders, holding yourself steady. His kiss was slow, and deep. Savoring every second of your lips. This time around, when his tongue taunted your bottom lip, you parted them. He tasted like coffee and something sweet, and you quickly found it was one of the most delectable tastes to ever touch your tongue. 

You were starting to feel hot. Still confined in the clothes you wore the night before, you became acutely aware of the situation. Alone together. In Joel’s bed. With his hands and lips on you. You wanted to feel him everywhere all at once. 

“Joel,” you sang during a brief break of air, nails digging into his shirt. He continued to steal quaint kisses, only humming in response. You snuck one of your hands up into his hair, mimicking his hold on you. “I need you…I need you to touch me.”  

This seemed to get his attention. He stilled, pulling back only enough for his nose to bump yours. Dark, brown, beautiful eyes blown wide to study you. 

“Darlin’,” he whispered, giving your hip a tender squeeze. “We shouldn’t, I mean, I—you’re—”

You knew what he was insinuating. You didn’t have to say it out loud for Joel to assume. 

You’re a virgin. 

“I don’t care,” you rushed out despite the bubbling anxiety in the pit of your stomach. It had to happen eventually, why not now? Why not with Joel? 

You saw him bite at his bottom lip, his gaze ravenous even in the midst of his hesitancy. “I just…I wanna make sure you know what you’re askin’ for.” 

“Tell me,” you whispered against his lips breathlessly, tugging at his curls to keep him close. “Tell me you feel nothing for me, and I’ll stop. I’ll stop pushing it.” 

Joel groaned, the kind that suggested the frustrating restraint of desire. “You know I can’t do that, sweetheart.” You knew. God, you knew, but that didn’t stop the rush of heat from darting to your core when he admitted it.  

“Then please,” you begged, slinking your arms fully around his shoulders to pull yourself up. You hovered over him, lips barely dancing atop of his. “Please touch me, Joel.” 

There were a few more beats of reservation until he simply couldn’t help himself any longer. He stood from the bed, bringing you to your knees with him at the edge of the mattress. Your hands never left him, engulfing yourself fully around his neck, his own steady at your waist, holding onto it for dear life. Then, he was kissing you again with an increased intensity that knocked the wind out of you. 

Everything suddenly became overwhelming, the heightened awareness of your body and the way he maneuvered it foreign and exciting. You were unable to mask the whimper that escaped you when his lips abandoned yours for your jaw, your neck, finding a deliciously sensitive spot at the base of your throat and sucking on it gingerly. Your head lulled back in a daze, and you felt his hands slip under the hem of your button up, tickling at the skin of your sides.

“You’re so goddamn soft,” he muttered into the crook of your neck, his hands traveling further forward until they were toying with the buttons on your shirt. “Can I take this off, darlin’?” 

You nodded frantically, unable to quite find your voice. You scooted back a bit, giving him space to manipulate his fingers down the front of your shirt, carefully popping each button. When the fabric fell open, Joel seethed a shit under his breath. You weren’t wearing a bra, the cool air peaking your nipples. You felt the heat rising on your skin at the way his eyes took in every inch of you, careful fingers pushing back the collar until the shirt slipped off your shoulders.  

No man had ever seen you naked. Well, not purposefully. With the group you traveled with before you ended up in Jackson, it was inevitable to reveal yourself a time or two, changing or bathing in such close quarters. You thought you would be bashful, maybe even uncomfortable. But with the way Joel was looking at you, eyes full of nothing but careful adoration, you felt exhilarated. 

“Lay back, babygirl,” Joel instructed softly, the new pet name making your heart flutter in your chest. You obeyed his wish, carefully shuffling yourself until you could lay your head back onto his pillows, watchful eyes following him as he sauntered over to the end of the mattress. 

He moved with such diligence, a man of many years who seemed to have perfected just living in the beautiful state he inhabited. You watched him with the same intensity as he rid himself of his own shirt, revealing his sturdy chest and plush belly. Your mouth watered with anticipation when the mattress dipped, Joel crawling up the empty space to settle himself between your legs. 

Bare chest to chest, your skin was on fire. You looked up at him wide eyed, suddenly in a suspension of disbelief. This was happening. Really happening. The fantasies you had worked so diligently to shove deep down inside you manifesting before your eyes; you would have been content to never see them flourish, as having Joel Miller by your side in any shape or form was a reward, but this? This was so much better. 

He leaned down, pressing the softest kiss to your parted lips. “You okay?” His forearms rested on either side of your head, and when you nodded, he brought a single hand down to toy with the strands of hair at your temple. “If we’re gonna go any further, I need you to talk to me, darlin’. Think you can do that?” 

You nodded again, and he gave you a knowing look, a small smirk quirking up on his lips. “Sorry,” you squeaked. “Yes…yes, I-I can do that.” 

Talking. Talking was good. Nerves were inevitable, and hearing Joel’s voice would soothe you through it. Dampen the fears, the inexperience, the insecurities. 

“And if you want me to stop,” he continued, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the expanse of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands grasping at his bare sides. “You tell me right away.” His kisses littered your throat, your collarbone, all the way to your breasts where they ghosted over your nipples, aching for attention. “Understand?” His lips wrapped around one of them then, and you arched off the mattress with a gasp. 

“Y-yes,” you mewled. Maybe talking was going to be much more difficult than you expected. “I-I understand, Joel.” 

“Good girl,” he praised softly, and good god if it didn’t shoot straight to your core, which you were now vividly aware was pressed up against the growing outline in his sweatpants.

He continued his descent, gracing your skin with his feathery kisses and stopping just short of the waistband of your jeans. The discomfort from sleeping in them was quickly replaced by the discomfort below them. You were dripping. 

“Do you touch yourself, pretty girl?” Joel whispered against the skin below your belly button, bringing a hand down to slowly undo the buttons on your jeans. “When you’re all alone, do you make yourself feel good?” 

You had your arms splayed to either side of you, unsure of where to touch, to grab, fingers balled into fists. His question alone drew another whimper from you, and you heard the zipper on your pants go down. 

“Yes,” you answered honestly. You had done your fair share of exploration over the years, always in private, and always just enough to get you over the edge so many seemed to talk so highly about. But you never felt this hot with your own hands.

Joel hummed in approval. “Good. That’s good. Lift up—” he said, giving your thighs a light tap. You lifted your hips from the mattress, allowing him room to shuffle the fabric off your legs. You assisted him towards the end, fluttering your feet until you could kick the jeans to the floor. Within seconds, he was back between your thighs, this time straddling his shoulders as he settled further down the mattress. His face was inches away from your cunt, now only protected by the thin cotton barrier. 

“And when you touch yourself,” he continued, fingers tracing the softest shapes on the outside of your thighs, over your hips. You could feel his hot breath through your panties, and it made you squirm. “How many fingers do you use?” 

The subject matter was crude at its core, but something about the words coming off Joel’s lips made them sound completely earnest. Like he wanted to know, needed to know. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last without his attention where you needed it most. 

“Two. Sometimes, maybe three, but I like—” Your chest heated with embarrassment. You had spoken so openly about so many things with Joel over your months as partners, but never anything like this. 

His brows perked up in interest from between your legs, continuing the teasing caresses of your thighs. “What, darlin’?” He placed a kiss on the inside of your left thigh, and you could’ve sworn you saw stars. “What do you like? You can tell me.” 

Your breath was no longer your own, heaving uncontrollably. Sweat rolling on your temples. He certainly knew how to work you up.

You bit your bottom lip. “I like…I like to rub my clit,” you whispered, wincing at the way the vulgar words sounded coming out of your mouth. But Joel practically growled below you, eyes closing momentarily. 

He leaned forward, breathing in your core and running his nose along the patch of dampness. That was when your hands abandoned the sheets, instinctively coming up to grab at his curls. “Oh, baby,” he hummed, hands leaving your thighs to curl his fingers into the waistband of your panties. “Yeah, I can do that. Promise to take real good care of you.” 

And you believed him, which had you wasting little time in lifting your hips again, allowing him to strip you of your last piece of clothing. He took a moment to rake his eyes over you before leaning back down, your glistening center clenching around nothing as the cold air tickled the flesh. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured, guiding the crux of your knees over either shoulder. 

You were fully exposed to this man, for the first time ever to the eyes of another, and yet, you had never felt more exhilarated. You wondered if that was simply because it was Joel. No one else in this fucked up world could make you feel so comfortable as to bare your heart, soul, and body to them. 

“Joel, please,” you begged again, this time, giving a bold tug to his hair. “Please.” You needed something, anything he would provide you. 

He didn’t keep you in anticipation much longer.  He wetted his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow strip across your outer lips, all the way up to your clit that stood taut, moving the tip of his tongue in calculated flicks. 

“Oh, fuck!” you shrieked, eyes screwing shut and hips bucking up off the mattress. Joel was quick to combat this, sturdy hands gripping you by the hips and bringing you back down to earth while he paid mindful attention to your swollen clit, just like you asked him to. 

But it was much different having someone’s mouth on you. Joel’s mouth. The familiar coil in your belly built much quicker while he suckled on the sensitive bud. “Joel,” you moaned, to which he hummed in response, sending the most delectable vibrations through you. “More. Your fingers, please.” 

He never took his lips off of you when you felt the pads of his fingers prod at your hole, already leaking with desire. You anticipated his fingers to be much larger than yours, but when he sunk his two digits in, the stretch was satisfying. The way he worked up your arousal aiding in how easy it was to slowly pump them in and out, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. 

You couldn’t quite process it; the attentiveness, how effortless it was for him to listen to your needs. Word of mouth had given you a low standard of expectation for your first experience, but something told you Joel would exceed every string of disappointment. 

He began to quicken his pace, the flex of his forearm curving his fingers up into that sweet spot with precision, leaving your toes to clench and your thighs to squeeze around his head. You were singing his name like a prayer, the only word you could find as your abdomen tightened, a subtle tremor cursing through your legs. You craned your neck up from the pillows, compelling yourself to find the image of him nestled between your thighs. And fuck, was it glorious. His hooded eyes were already on you, pupils blown wide, breathing frantically through his nose while his lips continued their ambush on you. You quickly brushed the stray curls from his forehead, wanting to have a clear view of his eyes when your jaw fell slack, the euphoric high starting at your core and bursting out over the rest of you. At first, you couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. But Joel kept working his tongue over your clit and his fingers inside of you through your orgasm so adamantly that your head flung back, thighs clamped around his head, and a lewd moan echoed off your lips. Thank god no one else was home, as you were pretty sure the neighbors could hear how good Joel Miller was making you feel. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” You were a sputtering mess while he teetered you towards overstimulation, but soon enough, his sucking turned to gentle kisses, and his fingers slowed their assault. When he dragged them out of you, you could hear the sound of your slick. And when you finally had the energy to peer down at him, you could see his patchy beard covered in it, too. But Joel was as much a taker as a giver it seemed, for when he pulled his face away from between your thighs, you watched him bring the glistening digits up to his lips and suck them clean. 

He grinned down at you when he popped them out of his mouth. “So damn sweet, darlin’.” This had you giggling, a mixture of inevitable embarrassment and bliss. You brought your hands up tiredly to cover your heated cheeks, but Joel was having none of it. He dragged them down, replacing them with peppered kisses to your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, until he landed on your lips, joining in on the soft laughter between each peck.

It was cathartic. Sharing in such joy after a moment of such intensity. You had always thought sex needed to be this serious, meticulous act. That didn’t seem to be the case with Joel; he was the same him, you were the same you. And that was enough. 

Hovering above you again, you wrapped your still shaky legs around his hips. His hands were back at your hairline, now doused in sweat, carefully pushing back the pieces that stuck to your skin. 

“You okay?” he asked softly. 

You nodded. “Yes.” You snaked a hand in between the two of you, mimicking his soft caresses to the saturated patches of hair on his jaw. “More than okay.” 

You were fucking incredible. On cloud nine, in fact. Every worry of the day, week, month seemingly lost to the euphoria that was Joel’s hands on you. 

“We can stop at any time if it’s gettin’ too much,” he reminded you, and you knew the terse look in his eye came from nowhere else but concern. 

Your brows pulled over your eyes, pouting up at him. “I don’t wanna stop,” you muttered, tracing your finger over his jawline. “Do you want to stop?”  

“No, fuck. No, sweetheart, ‘course I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you. “I just want you to know that even if we don’t go all the way…that doesn't make this a failure.” 

You could’ve cried right then and there. This man. This stoic, brooding man who you had spent so much time avoiding your feelings for might have been the sweetest, gentlest man you had ever encountered underneath all of that heavy armor he insisted on carrying. You wanted to help him with the weight, take as much of it as you could muster onto your shoulders, and free him of his worries and pain. 

You took a deep breath, swallowing back the lump in your throat and bringing both hands up to cradle his cheeks. He looked you in the eye, focused. “I want to feel this with you,” you spoke softly, never faltering from his deep gaze. “I trust you, Joel. With everything I have.” 

Taking a leap of faith, you trailed your hands from his cheeks all the way down his torso until your fingers fiddled with the tie on his sweatpants. You gave it a tug, letting the stings fall open. He watched you, and when he felt the still of your hands, took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling to the edge of the mattress to rid himself of his pants. 

When they hit the floor, your lips parted in a sharp inhale. Joel Miller carried every trait of a man who was well endowed, but to see the sacred part of him up close was an entirely different experience than imagining it. Thick and already leaking with precum, you were enamored by the dark vein that ran along the underside of his cock, standing proud and eager against his lower stomach. You tried not to let your eyes linger on it too long when he crawled back up to you, settling between your legs. You felt another rush of arousal when his warm cock laid up against your core. 

“I’m a little nervous,” you whispered, scared that if you admitted it too loud, he would change his mind. 

That couldn’t be further from the truth; you knew so when he graced you with that subtle, doting smile. The kind that just reached his eyes enough for you to see the little crinkles at the edges. 

“I know, baby, but I promise I’ve got ya. It’s just you and me, okay?” You nodded slowly, suddenly overcome with unexpected emotion again. Your eyes glistened, the tenderness of his voice healing something deep inside you. “If we’re bein’ honest, I’m a little nervous too.” His grin only increased upon your reaction, looking up at him as if that was the most ridiculous thing in the world. “S’been a long time for me.” 

Oh. You suppose you never thought about it that way. You gave way to the moment, leaning up to press a quaint kiss to his lips. “You and me,” you echoed his words and his smile. 

He returned the gentle kiss. “Hold on to me,” he instructed, and you brought your arms back around his neck, keeping him close. He reached between your bodies, and you felt the tip of his cock run across your awaiting folds. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip, tensing in anticipation. “Relax, baby. S’gonna feel a lot better if you try to relax.” 

You heeded his warning, taking in a deep inhale through your nose and out through your mouth. “Go slow, please,” you whimpered. His forehead touched yours when he nodded. 

“I will,” he promised, nudging the tip of him against your hole, still slick with arousal. And you were grateful for it when he notched himself inside of you, eliciting a gasp from the both of you. 

You knew it was just the tip of him, but that didn’t stop your eyes from rolling back. Warm and firm, nestling perfectly inside of you. You welcomed the intrusion, continuing to focus on your breathing. “A little more,” you urged him, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of neck. Joel was panting right along with you, and despite the growing lust, kept his promise of taking it slow. He guided himself an inch further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a whine coming through gritted teeth. 

The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. You did your best to stay perfectly still, worrying if you moved too much any way, the pain would worsen. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and every overwhelming emotion coursing through you. 

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he praised, lips tickling the shell of your ear. “You’re doin’ so good for me. So, so good.” 

His genuine words made you want to do better, sending little flutters through your stomach. It was astonishing the way his words alone could inflict such a response from you. 

After a moment, you were able to relax into the intrusion. Eyes still shut, you nudged your nose up against his. “Just…just do the rest all at once,” you squeaked. The sooner, the better. Dragging it out would only elongate the process of getting it over with, and you couldn’t wait any longer to cross the threshold. He was still for a moment, and then, placing a steadying hand on one of your hips, Joel sheathed himself fully inside of you, filling you to the brim. 

Your lips fell open in a wail, the tears that lingered at your eyes falling over your cheeks. Joel’s delicate lips were on your neck, leaving kisses and whispering words of encouragement. 

“M’gonna stay just like this for a minute,” he said after a moment, your walls involuntarily fluttering around him, getting use to the sheer size of him. With every passing moment, you willed yourself to unwind, focusing on the sound of Joel’s breathing. 

You took your time, only opening your eyes when you really felt ready. You found Joel had lifted his head from your neck, already looking at you with tender concern. “It’s okay,” you panted, nodding slowly, sniffling back the tears. “I’m…it’s not so bad.” It was only then that you realized how full you felt, full of Joel. He was reaching a depth of you otherwise untouched, the thought alone having you clench around him. 

He grunted, and you noted the twitch of restraint in his focused brow. “You can move,” you said, bringing a shaky hand up to push the sweat-clad curls off his forehead. 

He looked at you hesitantly. “Are you sure—”

“Joel,” you hummed, carefully tilting your hips up, inviting him in. Another shared gasp. “Please.” 

The thrusts began as gentle rocks of his hips, never pulling too far in or out, just enough to explore the feeling of him moving inside of you. The pain was no longer the instigator of your tears — it was the intensity of Joel’s eyes, looking down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. 

Then, he was grinding into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin singing in the air. Gradually, you got used to the fullness, anticipating it every time he would pull out of you before advancing forward. Soft grunts fell from Joel’s lips when he’d hit the deep spot inside of you, something about the sounds he made sending shivers down your spine. 

But the real pleasure came when he reached a hand between your conjoined bodies, finding your neglected clit, and circling the two of his fingers around it. 

The moan that fell from your lips was obscene. Oh. Oh, this was new. Suddenly, the pain was a dampened after thought; the feeling of fullness mixed with the sensation of his fingers rubbing at your sensitive bud sent your body alight. You didn’t even notice how vocal you had become, wanton whines and increased panting, until you felt Joel’s lips at your ear again. 

“Yeah?” he muttered, his voice dropping an octave. “That feelin’ good baby?” 

So good. Oh, it was so fucking good. You wanted to tell him, scream it at the top of your lungs, but your voice was caught in your throat, too overwhelmed by the newfound ecstasy. Your ankles had mindlessly latched around his back, too hellbent on keeping him deep inside of you to let go. 

When the circling of his fingers picked up, so did his thrusts. The weight of his heavy balls slapped against you, nestling up into the same spot his fingers found earlier, leaving you to arch off the mattress. 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he growled, teeth grazing your carotid. “You feel so fuckin’ good around me.” 

You were a whimpering mess, legs starting to tremble again around him. “More, Joel,” you breathed, not even quite sure what more of you were asking for. “P-please, I need more.” 

He seemed to understand, because before you knew it, he was rutting into you quicker, deeper. The curve of his cock worked into you, somehow finding the right spot inside of you every single time. Your body moved on its own violation, hips grinding upwards to meet him in the middle of every thrust. The litany of your moans and his grunts sung through the air like sweet music, and you thought you may have never experienced life before the way you did in that moment; body and mind completely consumed by another, this feeling forever Joel’s to give you for the first time. 

You were burning from the inside out, unable to keep up with the way your body gave way to the pure euphoria coursing through you, until the pressure in your belly was too much to bear. Your toes curled, legs trembled so hard that they fell limp around him, a fire traveling through you from your point of connection. 

“Oh god. Oh fuck, oh fuck — uungh — Joel—!”

He held you through the entirety of your second release, stronger than any you had ever experienced. You clenched around him feverishly, coating his swelling cock in your honey. Your head thrown back, you felt the tickle of his hair against your neck as he buried his face into the crook, the sputter of his hips growing sloppy as you milked him towards the edge. You weren’t even down from the high when his hand abandoned your clit, quickly pulling himself out of you and giving himself a few steady pumps. You opened your eyes just in time to see the way his lips fell apart and his face contorted in beautiful bliss before he was spilling himself onto your stomach. 

You had low expectations for your first time, always had. The idea of finishing not even a pressure you bothered to burden yourself with. It would be easier to pretend it was something magical, extraordinary. A fluke, even. But the truth was…it was just Joel. 

You and me. 

His words continued to ring true. And when you both settled your breathing, finding each other again in the exchange of wide, wondrous eyes, you slowly fell back into the soft fit of laughter. Pure contentment. A happiness long abandoned to a world that robbed you of any glimpse of achieving it. 

When he kissed you then, soft and sweet, you knew he felt it too.

The rest of the morning was spent in a domestic stupor. You spent a good chunk of time basking in each other's arms, curled up against Joel’s chest, tracing the shape of every scar you could find. You didn’t press him for their backstories, instead, choosing to admire the character and history they gave him. 

When you both finally found the strength to get up, he suggested a shower. At first, he was content to let you go alone, offering to take one after. But the glint in your eye and the pout at your lip told him you had other plans, and soon enough, you were both crammed into the small space. It didn’t bother you, giving you ample excuse to have your arms around him and feel his hands on you. 

He washed your hair, the soothing circles of his fingers nearly aiding you back to sleep right then and there. Of course, he was stubborn in letting you return the favor, so you settled for a gentle massage to his shoulders while he worked his fingers through his curls. 

He offered you some of his clothes, considering yours reeked of alcohol and sweat from the night prior. One of his flannels and clean pair of sweatpants, which you rolled up to avoid tripping over. 

He graciously invited you downstairs, offering to whip up some breakfast and get a pot of coffee started. There was something undeniably sexy about Joel in such a casual setting. You had never spent this much time in his house, normally only stopping by for a brief moment to pick up something you had left behind on patrol or drop off a menial item Ellie asked to borrow. 

The air was different now. Something palpable shifting, and it was equal parts frightening and exhilarating. You felt like you were glowing.

You had so many questions. So many doubts. Hopes. Afraid that if you pushed them too soon, you would risk the chance of losing an opportunity for something altogether. So you kept your mouth shut, opting to sit atop the counter next to the stovetop while Joel cooked, savoring the scent of brewing coffee and freshly washed hair. 

When the pot dinged, Joel reached in the cupboards for two mugs, and just as he poured yours, handing it to you, the front door slammed open then shut. You both froze. 

“I’m home!” Ellie’s voice shrieked, followed by the sound of her shuffling about and approaching footsteps. 

“Shit,” Joel muttered quietly under his breath, bracing a hand against the counter. You turned your head towards the kitchen entryway just as she approached it, the guiltiest look on both of your faces. 

The thud of her backpack hit the wooden floor, and as soon as she looked up, her eyes began to process the sight before her. She fluttered her gaze between the two of you, damp haired, disheveled clothes, tired eyes. Not even a beat later, a brazen grin spread across her cheeks. 

“Well, well, well,” she tsked slowly, folding her arms across her chest. You bit at the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing, maybe crying? Both. You could see Joel going rigid in your peripheral, knuckles white against his own coffee mug. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who had a slumber party.” 

You literally snorted out a laugh, immediately bringing your hand up to smack over your mouth and nose at the sound. 

“Ellie!” Joel barked, but the teenager remained unfazed. She flashed you her knowing smirk before her eyes were back on Joel in torment. 

“What?!” she feigned innocence. “I’m just sayin’, it’s about fucking time you two stopped dancing around each other. It was painful to watch, seriously.” 

“Oh my god.” When you looked over to Joel, his face was bright red, jaw set tense while he glared at the girl in plain irritation. You couldn’t help but find it utterly adorable and quite amusing. “Would’ya just…just go to your damn room or somethin’?” 

Ellie simply continued her coy stare while she leaned down to pick up her pack, slinging it over her shoulder. She turned to you then, putting on her best polite facade and bidding you a proper good morning, to which you returned, both quite giggly. Just before she slipped out of the room, she stopped short, peeking her head back in. 

“Oh, hey,” she chirped towards you. “They’re showing a new tape in the barn later. And this one —” she gave Joel an aggressive point, “has patrol duty. You wanna come with me instead?” 

You had experienced your fair share of activities with Ellie. You were friends. The age difference could not diminish the joy the girl brought to you and so many others in Jackson; she was a firecracker, reminding you a bit of yourself at that age. A breath of fresh air to the community after months of stiffs who had nothing better to do than gossip or stir up trouble. 

And yet, the nonchalance of her invitation — as if it was the clearest thing in the world to her in that moment, that embarrassing, unexpected moment — made your heart swell. 

You smiled back at her, nodding. “I’d love to.” You would love to spend time with Ellie. Joel’s Ellie. Undoubtedly the most important thing in the world to him, and she wanted to share her evening with you. 

As she puttered out of the room, you waited until you heard her door shut upstairs before your eyes were back on Joel. His own were an array of annoyance and embarrassment, to which you returned with a reassuring smile. 

He went on to mutter something about that kid being the death of him, and you let him. Let him grump away as he continued the breakfast preparations, otherwise casual over the intrusion. He wasn’t ashamed that she saw you, caught you both like this. The realization of it all consumed you rather rapidly. As you watched him tend to you in his kitchen, his home, you felt a bit of that worry dissipate into more hope. 

And for the first time since Joel Miller came into your life, you could truly imagine what it would be like to be his.

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Miscalculation

AN: I don't write nearly enough for Felix. Luckily, that SKZCode lab episode planted this idea in my head, and it's taken a viciously hold on me. Also, just to be super clear, despite Reader being a year old experiment, she's very much an adult. She came into the world that way. Also also, I edited this while sleepy so, hopefully it's coherent lol.

Synopsis: Your first heat hits you unexpectedly and violently one day. Thankfully, your favourite person pays you a visit in an attempt to comfort you through it. However, you both severely underestimate just how much your heat affects you. Especially around him.

General tags and warnings: Lee Felix x Fem! Reader, Scientist! Felix, Cat hybrid! Reader, lots of unethical research, Reader is an experiment, Felix tries his best to humanise Reader, doesn't really apply here but, since Reader is an experiment and Felix is a scientist there is the potential for a power imbalance, Reader is in heat, Reader is manipulative and maybe in love with Felix and not much plot.

Smut tags and warnings: heavy dubcon, mentions of masturbation and exploration of sexuality, virgin! Reader, kind of sort of fingering (f. receiving), humping/grinding, over the clothes touching, scent kink of sorts, clothes being ripped, nipple play (m. receiving), Reader takes charge a lot throughout this, little to no foreplay for Reader and a very unrealistic first time, piv sex without a condom, marking and clawing (m. receiving), biting (m. receiving), one mention of blood, possessiveness from Reader, dirty talk, praise and creampie.

Word count: 3.8k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Everything burns. 

Your blankets are a crumpled mess on your floor because you're certain you'll shred them into pieces with your claws if they so much as touch your overheated body right now. The persistent buzz of the air conditioner brings you no comfort. Sweat dots your forehead and you'd take off the oversized shirt that clings to your body within an instant if Doctor Bang, red faced and avoiding your frustrated gaze, hadn't insisted on some sense of propriety. Aren't these men supposed to be doctors? Trained medical professionals? Have they never seen a naked body before? He's lucky that he's the only one out of the three older men that you can somewhat stomach because if Doctor Lee or Doctor Seo had suggested you cover yourself, you would have hissed and clawed at them. 

A frustrated noise builds from the back of your throat when you can feel your sheets starting to grow damp underneath you. You've already had to change them five times in the past two days and, you feel like you're losing your mind. Actually, you just might be. Worse than the burning that emanates through your entire body and the non-stop sweat that clings to your skin no matter how many ice-cold showers you take, is the perpetual ache between your thighs. You're not stupid. This lab may be all that you've known for the entire year of your life but, you have basic instincts and common sense. Coupled with all of the sessions you're forced to sit through with Doctor Bang in an attempt to understand you and aid you in understanding yourself, you're more than aware you're aroused right now. Or ‘wet’ as Doctor Lee and Doctor Seo put it, much to the dismay of the older of the three. 

You just don't understand why. 

In the rare moments that you've wondered about your sexuality and sex in these sterile walls, it's rarely gone beyond a few curious pokes and prods at yourself. It's mostly been a neutral experience and you didn't derive much pleasure out of it. You're sure your limited knowledge and experience on the matter has hindered your ability to enjoy masturbation much but, it's not as though the four men will just give you the material or knowledge to help pleasure yourself. You're not even sure you care all that much.

Except for when you do. Thinking back to quiet nights where the silence and loneliness of the lab was too much for your mind to handle and masturbation crossed it as a hope for distraction. A brief escape from the life you've been forced to endure. So, you tried it. Flashes of a kind smile and blonde hair making your stomach twist in a way that wasn't unpleasant, just unfamiliar. Full lips and memories of a deep voice causing arousal to trickle onto your inexperienced fingers. You'd even managed to make yourself orgasm once. It was one of the few sincerely pleasant moments you've had. 

The rest centred around him too. 

“–she's deep in heat right now, Lix.” You recognise the voice as that of Doctor Bang. Your ears twitch atop your head in interest at the conversation he's having with the only doctor you've grown fond of. You're always grateful for your hearing abilities in moments like these. 

“We can't just keep her in the dark,” Felix argues and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Electricity zipping through you just at the sound of his voice and the knowledge that he's just beyond your bedroom door. The throbbing between your thighs worsens. 

“I know,” Doctor Bang sighs, “but, we won't be getting a shipment of suppressants until three days from now. We're just going to have to wait it out.” 

“We?” Comes Felix's incredulous reply, “We're not the ones suffering right now. I went to visit her last night Chris,” your eyes widen at the confession, “She was burning up and covered in sweat and, she's only had to deal with two days of it. You know it's not fair to her.” 

“What do you want us to do, Felix?” The older man argues, his voice heavy with frustration. 

“Treat her like a fucking person,” the younger man argues just as frustrated, “Tell her what's going on. We know she's incredibly smart. Maybe she has some biological way to make herself feel better that we haven't thought about or explored.” 

Silence stretches between the two for a few, long moments. 

“I don't think that's a good idea,” comes Doctor Bang's resigned reply, “Look Lix, I know that you care about her and the two of you have always been close. Too close for what could be considered appropriate,” you snort at that. Now he cares about ethics and what's appropriate? How funny. “But, Minho, Changbin and I care about her too. She's not just some experiment to us,” you find that hard to believe, “We just know when it's appropriate to step back and keep our distance. This is one of those times. We're going to try and help her through it as best as we can but, we're going to wait for the suppressants then feed them to her. That's it. End of discussion.” The sounds of footsteps echoing through the hallway are all that accompany his words. 

Well, at least you finally know what's wrong with you. You're in heat. Something they've apparently known you're capable of experiencing and have been suppressing since you gained consciousness. The fact that they're so blasé about letting you suffer in your room and wait days until you're able to find any kind of reprieve boils your blood in a way that has nothing to do with your biology. Yeah, so much for caring about you. You haven't even seen Doctor Seo and Doctor Lee since your symptoms first started. You don't even notice your claws prodding in your anger. You should have attempted to escape on those rare trips Felix had taken you outside of the lab. Consequences be damned. At least you'd have a shot at a normal life. You should have never let his warm eyes and compassion keep you coming back to this hellhole. 

Your furious, internal tirade is interrupted by your door sliding open. You don't have to turn around to know that it's Felix. His scent always betrays him before anything else. The familiar mix of bamboo and vanilla hit your senses. However, unlike the other times you'd bask in his scent, now it worsens the thundering of your heart and you notice the slick between your thighs increasing. 

“Hey,” he says gently, shutting the door behind him. All you can think to do is stare at your wall wide eyed as his scent grows closer with every step he takes towards your bed. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth just at the smell of him and the soft timber of his voice adds to the pit forming in your stomach. Your hands desperately grabbing at your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It's just Felix.  

“I just wanted to check up on you,” he adds when his greeting is met with silence. You have to fight extremely hard to not let your tail move wildly and to keep your claws retracted when he sits down on the edge of your bed. Fuck. He's so close now and his scent is overwhelming. The smell that used to bring you comfort now puts you on edge. A feeling that you've only felt sparks of now sets your entire body alight and the ache between your thighs starts to become unbearable. He needs to leave before your heat causes you to do something very, very stupid. 

“I know you've been struggling a lot lately,” the apologetic tone to his voice melts your heart and your impulses yell at you to crawl into his lap and nuzzle at him until he no longer sounds upset, “I'm sorry. We should have told you this when it started but, you're in heat. That's what's causing you to feel this way,” he explains, as though you hadn't overheard (more like intentionally listened in on) his conversation with Doctor Bang. 

“I know you're probably mad at us, at me,” you want to tell him no, you could never be mad at him but, you're afraid that if you speak now, you'll say something you can't take back, “I'm truly sorry. The suppressants will be here in a few days. Till then though, I'm here for you,” he says softly, laying a hand gently on your arm in what you assume is an act of comfort but, it has the complete opposite effect. 

Your blood turns molten in your veins and the fog that's been on the edges of your mind swallows it whole. All you can think about is getting your hands on him. Touching him. Feeling him. Mating with him. You've never felt more animal than human. 

One of the major perks of being a cat hybrid, you've come to learn, is your quick movements. Before Felix can process it, you're sitting up and pressed to his side within an instant. The confusion and concern on his handsome face is so endearing. He's so cute. You just want to devour him. 

“Felix,” your voice sounds near unrecognisable to even your own ears, “I want you to help me with my heat,” you practically purr into his shoulder. Grasping his arm and delighting in the pretty flush that spreads across his face. The ache of your canines extending doesn't bother you in the slightest. Your mind focused on nothing else but, the man that's been your lifeline for the past year. 

“I–I um I ca–can't do that,” he explains, his voice sounding strained. His attempt to pull his arm away proves to be futile. Not that he was trying particularly hard anyway. “But, Lix,” you whine, pushing your body closer to his, your breasts pressing against his arm, “Didn't you say you'd help me?” 

The way he attempts to stammer out a reply just makes him so much cuter to you. Nothing but, instinct driving you to press yourself even closer to him. Delighting in the shudder you feel run through his body when your breath hits his exposed neck. “Don't you want to help me, Felix?” You ask with a desperate edge to your hoarse voice, one of your hands travelling down the span of his lab coat until you reach his soft hand. Moving it until it's between your slick covered, inner thighs, “It hurts, Lix.” 

Felix, for his part, looks absolutely shell-shocked. Warm, panicked brown eyes staring at you unblinkingly but, he doesn't move his hand. Not even when your own is no longer holding it. Your body moves on its own. Hips chasing the brush that his fingers offer. Your lashes fluttering at the pleasure courses through you. You feel so sensitive, even his barely there touch is enough to cause you to gush further onto his fingers. 

And Felix watches it all. Watches the way you clumsily try to hump his fingers. Watches the minute expressions of relief and desire and frustration that all cross your beautiful face. Watches the way your canines sink into your bottom lip. Feels the way your sharp claws dig into his lap coat. He doesn't miss a thing. 

Impulse and maybe a fraction of ration desire push you to tug on his button up shirt and kiss him. You're moving completely on what feels natural and what you've seen a couple of movies he's watched with you. It takes him a second to kiss you back. Tentatively following the movements of your lips and guiding you in more comfortable and enjoyable directions. You swallow his stuttered groan greedily when your tongue invades his mouth. Searching for more of him to explore. To taste. To burn into your memory. 

As nice as it feels to kiss him like you've thought about far too many times in the silence of your room and, use his fingers and hand to help satiate the persistent ache that sits in the pit of your stomach, it still all isn't enough. Not even close. This time, you moan into his mouth when one of your hands snakes its way down the front of his body until it comes to rest on his lap. A particularly painful throb coming from the apex of your thighs when you feel how hard he is beneath your touch. 

“So you do want this just as much as I do,” you sigh dreamily against his lips, sparks of desire shooting through your entire body with every palm of your hand over his clothed cock. All of his adorable, little noises making your walls clench. You don't think you've ever felt pain like this in your entire, short life. Saliva pools in your mouth as his scent wafts to you. Much heavier and headier than earlier. Beneath the anxiety and fear, the arousal makes its presence known clear as day. 

“W–Wait, I–” Whatever he was going to say is cut short by you shoving him onto your bed. His wide eyes, pupils blown out and completely swallowing his irises, meeting your lidded ones as he watches you straddle his slender hips. You've always thought he was a good-looking man but, he looks even better like this, underneath you. 

Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head when you press down on him. Your drenched folds coming in contact with the evident bulge in his dress pants. Resting your palms on his stomach, you start to move. Chasing the friction against your clit desperately. Not caring all about the mess you're making of his pants. Your eyes focused on watching the way he tries very, very hard not to lose himself in the way you grind against him. His hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he lays there and let's you use him. 

Fuck. What a cutie. 

His eyes shoot to your face when you use your claws to rip his blue button up open. While the colour looks absolutely lovely on him, you much prefer the sight of his bare chest. Your tongue running over your teeth at all the skin that you now have access to. 

“He–Hey, I think we should calm d–down a bit and–” Felix tries to interject, the drop in octave of his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you. You disregard his words easily. Leaning down to shut him up with your mouth while your hands busy themselves with exploring his chest. Your canines nipping his bottom lip when he gasps into you while you trace his nipples with your claws. Sensitive too. Perfect. 

“Why stop when I can feel how hard you are for me, Lixie?” You whisper against his full lips, fingers tracing random patterns into his nipples. His hips jutting up to meet your drenched core every time you touch him a little too harshly or drag yourself along his entire length. 

“Don't you want to just give in?” You ask, meeting his blown out eyes as your hands move their way along his lithe body until they reach his belt buckle. 

“I–I–” he stutters out when you sit back up so you can gain a better view of his frustrating belt. He must see you preparing to rip his pants off too because he stops you immediately, “I–It's okay, I got um it,” he quickly responds. You shift down him a little to provide him with space to unbuckle his belt. Fortunately, he doesn't take too long. You're sure your impatience is rolling off of you in waves. 

Much to your surprise given how bashful he's been, he tugs his pants and boxers down in one go. His hard, pre-cum covered cock slapping against his stomach in his rush, his eyes pointedly looking at everywhere but, you. 

It's one thing to feel him, it's a whole different matter entirely to have his cock right there, ready for the taking. And take, you do. It's adorable how red his face is and the way he sneaks glances at you shyly when you shift back up his body until your dripping pussy is hovering over his twitching cock. Your shirt sticks to your damp body uncomfortably and, the reminder that you're still wearing it is an unwelcome one. So, you simply tug it off. Exposing yourself freely and readily to his shy eyes. 

Not that he's all that shy when you're bare for him to fully drink in. Bruised lips parting as he watches you grasp his cock with an impatient hand and align it with your dripping hole. He doesn't stop you when you begin to sink down onto him. Strained whimpers falling from his pretty mouth with every inch you eagerly swallow. The stretch only stings a little. The sensation of his scorching cock dragging along your walls more than makes up for it. It's your turn to moan once he's fully sheathed inside of you. Your clumsy attempts with your fingers don't hold a candle to this. 

The way Felix chokes on your name when you start to move will forever be etched into your memory. The pleasure clear as day on his face spurs you along with the desire to feel him inside of you for as long as you can. To make love with him in this awful place that only he gave any semblance of meaning to. To mate with him. 

You lose yourself in the way his cock feels easily. Fluttering lashes threatening to shut every time he hits a spot inside of you that makes your pace falter and your claws dig into his soft stomach. The faint, pink lines that decorate his skin cause you to preen. They look gorgeous on his skin. They look like they belong there. Like they were meant to be there. Based on the way his hooded eyes switch from watching the expressions your face morphs into, the way your breasts bounce with every movement on his cock and the way you swallow as much of him as you can, you don't think he minds or cares all that much. 

Your skin grows impossibly hotter when his hands touch you. He's careful. Watching for any discomfort but, there's none to be found. If anything, you revel in the gentle hold his hands take of your hips. Not controlling your movements but just enjoying touching you while you bounce on his cock. 

You might actually love him. 

The thought prompts you to lean down and smash your lips to his once more. The metallic tang of blood lets you know that you nipped him too hard but he doesn't care all that much. Letting you take everything you need from him right now while he lets you. You can feel the way he throbs inside of you. He tries to stop himself but, you notice the way his hips sometimes jerk up to meet you, to move with you. And the knowledge that, on some level, he wants you just as much as you want him sends you into overdrive. 

His sharp inhale echoes through your room when you sink your canines into his neck. The punctures aren't deep but, they're more than enough to satisfy you. You're not sure why or how you knew to do that but, instinct has been your driving force all night and you're going to continue to trust it. 

“We're mated now,” you sigh, thumbing his flushed cheek. 

He just looks up at you for a moment, attempting to digest your words before responding, “Mate–Mated?” 

“Mmm,” you hum in confirmation, purring when you notice the way his twitches like crazy inside of you, “You're my mate now, and I'm yours,” you explain breathlessly. A tension you're barely familiar with building in the pit of your gut that you chase. 

“But we fuck can't–” his sentence is cut off by the drawn out moans from the depths of his chest, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when you pick up your pace. He looks so attractive like this. A bruise already forming on his neck and his chest littered with faint marks from your claws. He's gorgeous. 

“I'm ah cl–close,” he gasps out, his glazed eyes meeting yours and his hands desperately gripping your hips, “You need to shit st–stop,” he manages to stutter out. You think it's amusing that he thinks you're going to stop now. Especially when you're just about to get what you want. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper, “Why, Lixie? You look so cute like this. Why would I ever want to stop?” You smile when you hear the way he whimpers and his cock pulses harder inside of you, “Don't you want to cum inside me?” His hold on you grows tighter, “I want you to. I want you to cum inside me until it's spilling out of me,” you emphasise your point by intentionally clenching around him, “For days.” 

That's all it takes for him to break. His cock throbbing as he shoots his cum into the deepest part of you. A mix of his whimpers and strangled moans of your name tickle your ears as his cum fills your eagerly awaiting pussy. Your tail swishes in glee and your ears twitch in happiness. Your own orgasm creeping up on you when you feel the last of his cum spill into you. Truly, the late nights alone in your bed could never compare to this. To him. Your first orgasm could never hold a candle to this. Your entire body is riddled with quivers and shakes, your wetness gushing onto Felix's softening cock. Your thighs are sticky with cum and you're drenched in sweat but, you've never been more at peace. 

For some time, your shared laboured breathing is the only sound in your room. Fondness bubbles up inside of you when you glance at his flushed, sweaty face. His golden hair sticking to his forehead while he takes some time to come back to himself. Your fingers move before you can even think about it. The fog retreating slightly while you play with his hair and enjoy the simple pleasure of watching him while your combined releases trickle out of you. Much to your displeasure.  

You smile at him when he finally blinks his eyes open to meet yours. Your fingers ghosting over his mate mark as something primal and affectionate simmers in the pit of your stomach. He really is yours now. Your tail wraps around his leg without you even noticing. 

The smile he gives you is small but, it's still one of his smiles and the way your heart hammers in your chest lets you know he really was meant to be your mate. 

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Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[sirenscriptures]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ angel dust — s. ryomen ⋆｡˚

synopsis: he couldn’t believe the day you’d fallen down into his home. it was such a dark place, filled with such voids that most would consider horrifying. but you…you seemed to brighten up those areas just with your presence alone … 3k

before you read: fem-bodied reader, fallen angel ! reader, kind of counts as monsterfucking??, corruption, breeding, size difference, true form sukuna, soft to rough-ish sex, mainly soft sukuna, some asphyxiation, oral sex, cock worship.

author comments: if you’ve seen this before, don’t fret. this is a reupload from last year that came from my previous blog <3 also, i would greatly appreciate any feedback on this idea. it was very well received on ao3 and i’d love to know what you think of this idea!!

there was a biting cold air spilling throughout the dark, enormous malevolent shrine that evening. it was odd, since the deep marrows and walls of the domain usually seethed with a heat that seemed closest to what hell would feel like.

quiet as usual, his looming figure sat high within the mouth of the gaping shadows that swallowed the entire space. mountains of bones sat him as his throne; rotting and decaying ones piled at the root, whilst the more robust collection of ivory spines and jaws crowned the top.

even if his gaze read otherwise, he knew something strange was circulating. the domain no longer felt as though it could hold him, yet he didn’t know why. where it usually felt so hollow and barren, it now felt heavy, as if there were something weighing directly on its surface.

sukuna could feel the tension slithering up his arms. his usually harrowing eyes were now darting around, frantically checking each and every wall, crevice and shadow like a madman.

however, standing up was worse. immediately as his feet met the surface, a painful spasm rippled through his head, his hand smacking against his forehead in response. following the sudden pain, a high pitched ring bulleted through his ears.

he let out a yowl in reaction, his entire core tensing in near unbearable pain.his body heat felt like it was burning him alive, and the entirety of his muscles felt as though they would cave in on him at any given moment. it was as if his whole body were crumbling away, alike to the bones at the very bottom of his throne.

what in the hell is wrong with me…?

with no time for another thought or exclamation, a sudden, nearly blinding light glistered over his entire vision. it was like a lightning strike when it cracked down upon a tree. but upon the impact, the light expanded outward, casting a permanent coat of shining white over what used to be orifices of shadows.

the light only lasted a few moments before slipping away, the shadows eating at the remaining whiteness casted in the malevolent shrine. but for sukuna, it felt like ages before the piercing brightness faded away.

hiding away his face in the fabric of his robe sleeves, the pain in his body from before had completely vanished. he felt now that he was in one piece, and that everything was mostly back to normal again.

that was, until he looked in front of himself.

in front of him was what looked to be a pile of white sheets strewn about messily into a wrinkled pile.

with him still trying to adjust his eyes from before, it was still a bit of a blur. the flash from before had strongly impacted his vision for a good few moments before he could truly see properly again.

but when his vision did clear, he was certain he’d been hallucinating. his eyes widened as he realized.

in front of him lay an angel…one with battered, gently stained wings. they looked to be twisted, as if they’d been purposely bent and misshapen by cruel hands.

the little clothes that they wore were torn, stained with some sort of black, ash-like debris, as if they’d been caught in some sort of smoke or fire.

now fully adjusted to the sight, he saw the faint, aura-shaped glow that was cast around their body. the dim light shifted in and out of different hues; appearing like the breathing leaves of a tree at one moment, and like ocean waves the next, transcending on and on into different textures and colors in only a matter of minutes.

even for him, the very king of curses, this was a truly mesmerizing sight. in all his time, he couldn’t ever recall encountering a fallen one.

but that didn’t stop him from wondering just how in the world a creature like you had slipped into his domain.

sukuna’s barrier was stronger than any other domains in existence. only he had the power to call upon it when he wished to trap his victims inside of it. no one could get in or out without his calling to it, and that was always how it worked.

truly, it made no sense how you’d landed here. it shouldn’t have been anywhere near possible, but he’d have to face the facts that it was now.

breathing out deeply, whatever soft expression he previously had, he quickly wiped off. whilst admittedly fascinated, sukuna wanted no more unexpected visitors lurking here. it wasn’t worth any risk, even if he could deal with any type of intruder.

walking towards your body, he stared down at you for a moment, pondering. the idea of seeing a real angel so up close, enough to where he could touch it and see all of its features, felt somewhat dangerous to him.

standing so close created ripples of tension in the air, and he could feel it. it was nearly overbearing, to a point where he almost stepped back. but he stood his ground, not wanting to lose this moment.

gently, one of his hands grasped around your shoulder, rolling you onto your back. seeing your face now, it was hard for his eyes not to narrow.

sukuna had never seen something so beautiful. being asleep and trapped in bottomless darkness for years upon years with nothing but gruesome history and deeds, made him realize just how much he failed to see from the world around him.

he knew very well that there was a world outside of his domain where time was constantly working. where lives ended and began within every passing hour. where every single person, organism, ecosystem and cell worked to keep the cycle of living and evolving forever flowing onward, until there would be nothing left but dust floating about an empty space.

did he care for it much? of course not

out there, he was feared. the very syllables of his name invoked terror into any normal human that lived today. and that didn’t bother him in the slightest. it was a title that contributed to who he truly was: the king of curses.

but this moment that lay in front of him felt much different than just the outside world. just by looking at you, it was clear you falling down here carried much more volume than if a regular human were to fall into his domain.

it was when he began to pull you into his arms that your eyes flicked open. being cradled within four arms was a feeling he only half expected you to react to, but it was still surprising for both of you.

at first, sukuna expected you to flinch away from him. maybe even throw yourself away from his grasp. after all, it only seemed appropriate to him that an angel would fear the initial sight of a curse of his stature.

it was the stare you gave him that threw him off the most. your eyes were brilliant; the color in resemblance to the hazy aura that surrounded your body after the fall. but looking deeper, it seemed like you were...admiring him?

the softness in your gaze couldn’t be described in any other way. it was painted with innocence and light, something that was so foreign to sukuna.

despite the unfamiliar soft feeling blooming within his chest, his expression remained strong, revealing little emotion to you at first. with his eyes fully fixated on you, he smirked.

“i take it you’ve lost your way?” he asked in his low, sonorous voice. red eyes blinked down at you, the contact unbreaking.

when he was met with silence, it wasn’t a shock. angels weren’t so common with the earth language as many others thought they were.

instead, you blinked back at him, that same look in your eye as he remained holding you in his arms. even though he understood that you weren’t vocal, he could begin to feel that same tension lingering in the air once more.

“you really did a number on me when you fell down here.” he chuckled, assuming the pain from before was caused by the impact.

something within your gaze flickered as your hand reached up towards his face. his first instinct was to flinch away or tense up, yet…he didn’t.

your caress on his face was gentle, so loving, it was enough to make him feel like warmth was rushing through the tips of your fingers. sukuna hadn’t felt such a sensation in an eternity. in all of his long life, he couldn’t remember ever feeling a touch as gentle and as ethereal as this one.

it truly amazed him. he’d been so used to fighting, that he forgot what a real, physical loving touch had felt like against his skin. especially in his true form, he’d never felt so many sensations coursing through him at once.

the tension only stretched once he noticed you hadn’t broken eye contact. usually, others would shy their gaze away in fear. but, with the way you looked at him, it was almost as if you were trying to persuade him to look at you.

the way you smiled at him, and the way your body was so relaxed in his grasp…something was drawing him in so deep, that he completely ignored the fact that your faces were now drawn so close together, his breath warm on your skin.

you could feel sukuna start to tense up against your body. he wasn’t saying it directly, but he hated appearing as though his walls were tumbling down. the mere idea of being vulnerable was nauseating to him. but sure enough, it was gradually spreading through him like a slow-killing virus.

for a brief moment, something switched within him. it was a sudden feeling of his normal self coming back to him.

suddenly, he placed you back on the ground. he initially wanted to turn his body away from you, but you stopped him. your hand clasped gently around one of his wrists, a slight pleading look in your eyes. you stood close to his body, battered wings flecking about torn and tangled feathers.

sukuna turned to look at you, slightly amused. if anyone else had done that to him in his domain, he could have their arm sliced off in a matter of one glance.

“what now?” he asked gently.

he almost made a smart remark following his inquiry, until your hands gently started to roam over his body.

slowly, your gentle touch sent that same euphoric sensation through him, causing his breath to hitch. the tenseness in his muscles seemed to be washed away by the feeling as your touch traveled to his waist.

he could feel your breath growing heavier by each minute that passed. your head leaned into the deep crook of his neck, hands admiringly slipping over the bulges of muscles and scars on his skin.

looking back at you, he huffed, that devilish smirk spreading slightly over his lips once more. his large hands crept over your waist, scraping the loose clothing off of your body, leaving you more vulnerable than him.

before you could react, he’d pulled you into his grasp once more, his lips connecting with yours. his tongue aggressively slithers its way into your mouth, causing you to whine.

when pulling away, a string of saliva trailed between both of your mouths, eventually dripping down your breast.

seeing your bare figure so beautifully displayed in front of him, sukuna can’t help but feel like he needs more. that feeling from before was now a craving that he felt wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d had every part of you.

leaning back to sit, he placed you conveniently onto his lap, undoing his robes. you could feel the warm excitement pulsing through you, and you were certain he could feel the same.

those dark eyes fixated on you so strongly, you felt as though he could see through you. he pulled you close to him again, his hand trailing down in between your legs.

you latched onto him in surprise when the mouth on his palm began to lap and lick at you from below. you let out a trembling whimper, wrapping your arms tight around his neck.

sukuna chuckled darkly. “now i’ve found what you like, haven't i?”

it wasn’t long before you were wet enough for his fingers to slip in between your snug walls. you could feel your legs beginning to shake uncontrollably as the mouth continued to suck and slither its tongue inside you, whilst his two fingers pumped into your wetness.

he was fascinated by the feeling. even just a mere two fingers had some struggles fitting inside you. but the way you swallowed him in so well down there made him throb.

fuck…who would’ve thought i’d get to ruin a sweet angel like this? he thought to himself. just the feeling of the dripping warmth around his fingers could drive him mad.

promptly, sukuna removed the rest of his robes, his full body exposed to you now. looking at you, he watched your eyes widen at the sight of just how big he was.

he smiled amusingly, taking your face into one of his hands gently.

“there’s nothing to be afraid of, dear.” he murmured, pulling you into a deep, long kiss.

your little whimpers sent waves of arousal through him. you were so fascinating in all ways…he just couldn’t get enough of you.

before he could do anything else, you positioned yourself beneath him, kneeling right where his thighs were.

he looked at you, confused. he could see that you appeared nervous. compared to sukuna, you felt so small. he was a giant, and you both knew that. but there was an instinct for you to serve him, even if it was just for a little while.

suddenly, you’d begun to take in one of his members into your mouth slowly, your tongue snaking around the tip.

sukuna let out a rumbling groan, muscles back to tensing and pulsing with excitement. even the feeling of your mouth was amazing…so soft and welcoming to his cock.

his head tilted back, the feeling of you sucking at him sending his mind into a blur. it was unfathomable how good you could make him feel, all with simple gestures.

after a few moments, you’d stopped. sukuna looked down at you, panting slightly.

it was the sight of you kissing his cock that made him realize what you were doing. trails of kisses led all the way to his pre-cum coated tip. your hands gently massaged and caressed his skin, humming with pleasure as you did so.

pulling you up to his lap again, he pulled you extra close, breath now hot against your neck. sukuna couldn’t keep his mouth from yours. his large hands groped at your breasts, the mouths engulfing your skin.

he loved the sound of your moans flowing into his mouth as he prepared his cock at your entrance. you sounded so meek, and at the same time desperate. as if you’d wanted more of him, which is exactly what he wanted from you.

sliding in wasn’t easy for him. not even half had slipped into you, and you were already holding onto dear life, clawing at his shoulders and wincing, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.

he cupped your face in his hands, holding you gently. “shhhh, it’s alright.” he assured.

he placed one of his hands on your chest, the thump of your heartbeat racing wildly. staring into your eyes, he never broke his soft stare, his member still partially stuffed inside you.

“breathe for me.” he murmured, hand remaining on your chest as he breathed deeply with you.

slowly, it eased its way past your walls, the warmth now engulfing him. sukuna leaned his head back, groaning.

“fuuuck…” he hissed, feeling the fluttering of your walls around him.

he looked up at you, seeing how tense you’d become. his hands gently rubbed up and down your back, soothing you to where you would relax once more.

accidentally, his hands traveled to your wings. at the initial touch, you let out a cry, but not out of pain, out of pleasure.

once again, fascination overcame him. while he started to pump himself in and out of you, his fingers gently massaged the silky feathers of your back, watching as your head and eyes rolled back.

his pace grew faster eventually, balls slapping against your flesh, your moans sobbing out of you louder. meanwhile, sukuna’s hands roamed all over you, caressing every part of you that he could.

as he fucked you, the tongue on his stomach swirled in delicate circles over your protruding clit. he could feel every part of you begin to tremble. it felt like you were about to break at the seams.

he growled out huskily as his hand wrapped around your throat. slaps rang out as he fucked you, echoing throughout his domain.

he looked at you with hooded eyes, admiring the glassy-eyed look of exhaustion and arousal that you had.

“cum for me,” he stammered out. “let me hear those pretty moans of yours…”

you could feel the pleasure washing over you, head throwing back as you let out a final cry.

with a few thrusts, he could feel his seed sputtering deep inside you. his last thrusts made sure everything stayed inside of you, filling you up as much as he could. the feeling of your warmth and fluids mixing together nearly sent the both of you into a trance.

but for sukuna, he was more entranced by you and you alone. he had yet to understand how an angel like you had fallen down here, but he figured he didn’t have to understand everything right away.

all he truly cared about now was possibly keeping you down here with him. it didn’t fully make sense at first why he felt such a drawn protection over you, but now he saw just how special you were.

holding you in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile watching you doze off, head resting against his chest as you listened to the soothing sound of his heartbeat.

written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: a request by @morchilluv - "we definitely need a slow burn story of Sam and the reader with some sexual tension and being smutty"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, kind of a sad slow burn romance, a dash of sexual tension (I feel like I make up for it), flirting, real feelings being masked, not so secret jealously, passive aggressive comments/actions, slightly angsty, biting, scratching, hair pulling, unprotected passionate sex, filth

Word count: 8.6k | NOT edited

I didn't mean for this to be as sad as it actually is, but I like it regardless. Sorry if it's not exactly what the request asks, I tried!

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

YOUNGER YEARS

Your family has always been friends with Sam's family, so naturally, anytime there was a party, you and Sam would always run off to hang out.

You had a massive crush on him, and since you were young, you didn't really know how well to conceal it, so your cheeks were always red and your smile never faded with him.

You had a habit of taking pictures, the sunsets, the clouds, animals. You even have multiple blurry pictures of the moon. You took pictures of literally anything that made you happy, and eventually, you got comfortable enough with taking pictures of Sam any time you wanted to.

He always posed or smiled, but that was always when he knew you were taking a picture. He'd even send you selfies throughout the day on days you weren't hanging out.

You snapped canid pictures of him, too. One of your favorites is him playing the guitar.

You were just kids at the time, not really knowing what love was exactly, but you knew that you didn't want to be without him, even if you were just friends.

That's what it was for a while. You mainly had his attention, even when he did get a girlfriend or talked to a girl. It was puppy, middle school love, so it never really lasted long.

Eventually, Colby started to hang out with you guys, becoming the trio that you are today, but we'll get into that.

Colby would always tease you about liking Sam. He knew before Sam ever did, which honestly to you, took a while for him to understand, or so you thought.

As you became friends for some time, Sam started to flirt back on occasion, mainly when it was just the two of you. When Colby was around, or anyone else for the matter, he wouldn't flirt.

He treated you like he treated Colby, on some levels that is, and it was like that for a while.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Sam and Colby grew big on Vine, quickly building a platform for themselves on YouTube.

You weren't in any of their videos, mainly because you just thought it was weird and you didn't think you could do it.

They've tried and tried again to get you to join them, and you did for maybe one or two videos, but you just sat back mostly, helping them with certain ideas and skits.

You were the girl who always got accused of being one of their girlfriends because you were always with them.

For a while you all took turns replying to certain tweets, denying it, but eventually, you all came to the realization that with fame, comes persistent fans, so all three of you decided to just let people think what they wanted.

You still wished that the rumors between you and Sam would come true, being a teenage girl, you were always told that a girl shouldn't chase a guy, but before you actually realized it, that's exactly what you were doing.

Once graduation hit, you moved from the place you grew up in, to LA.

Sam and Colby got a nice, lavish apartment, with an extra bedroom for editing and one for you, of course.

You traveled with them. Explored with them.

You really became a big part of the 'XPLR' team and an even bigger part of you fell deeper in love with Sam.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

PRESENT DAY

Sam has been heavy on your mind lately, mainly because you thought it was finally time to tell him how you were really feeling.

For years, you've convinced yourself that he knew and liked you, too. The constant flirting back and forth, finding yourself in moments to where you weren't really sure what was going to happen, but it was full of tension, but in a good way.

Sexual tension.

It was there, always surrounding the two of you at the best such as when you're filming a reaction video and he the way he looks at you is just pure lust, or even when you're at home, watching a movie and a sex scene comes on.

Your mind instantly goes to recreating it Sam, and the way he looks at you makes you think that he has those same thoughts with you.

Then there's the worst times, where you're out with friends, drinking. You take one tipsy look at Sam and you feel like you're done for. The only thing stopping you is completely making a fool out of not really yourself, but Sam.

So as usual, it doesn't go anywhere but shoved to the back of your mind.

You kept falling in love with him all over again, doing whatever it took to keep him in your life, but then everything took a turn and you suddenly felt yourself almost hating him.

Girl after girl, situation after situation, you found yourself wanting to distance yourself, save yourself from a massive heartbreak, but it was a little too late for that.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks, looking up at you as you get up from your chair.

"To get a drink." You laugh, "You want one?"

He nods, looking back down at his phone, "Yeah, can you bring me one of those strawberry smoothie things?" You purse your lips, "I think there's only one left."

He looks up from his phone dropping it into his lap, "Really?" You nod, "Yeah and that's what I was going to get."

After a few seconds of silence, you find yourself racing to the kitchen, trying to beat Sam to the fridge. He grabs your waist, pulling you back and spinning you away from the door, "No, it's mine!"

You turn, pushing him backwards, "No! I wanted it first!" You laugh, "It's mine!"

He wraps his arm around your waist, lifting you up so your feet are just off the floor, "No, no. It's mine." He walks you back to the couch and throws you onto it with a laugh, "Stay!"

He turns, running towards the kitchen but you leap off the couch, catching up to him and jumping onto his back.

His hands grip the back of your thighs, "Big mistake, missy."

You cover his eyes, "Oh yeah? Try finding the fridge now." He laughs, reaching one arm out in front of him, "You act like I don't have this kitchen engraved in my mind."

He walks over to the fridge and you extend an arm out, trying to stop him. He reaches up, you still clung to his back, and pulls your hand from his face, "Just.." he opens the door, "Let me.." he groans as he reaches forward for the bottle, "Have it!"

"No! It's mine!" You can't help but laugh, "Sam!"

He leans back and you slam your hands to his chest as you feel like you're going to fall, "No! Don't do that!"

He laughs and walks back, "Sit."

"No." You tighten your legs and he sighs, "Fine, we can stay here all day. I don't care." He laughs and you tilt your head, leaning over to look at him, "I'll sit.. if you promise to share it with me."

He sighs, "You're asking a lot." He smiles and looks over at you, "fine."

You hold out your pinky, "Promise."

He brings his hand up, locking his pinky with yours, "I promise."

You slide off his back onto the counter, keeping your eyes on him as he walks forward to the fridge and grabs the bottle.

He turns around, pretending like he's going to run away and you move forward, stopping when he stops, "Ha! Gotcha!"

"I hate you." You smile, rolling your eyes as you sit back comfortably, "Now, give me some." You reach out and he walks over, standing between your knees.

You take a quiet breath, looking up at him as he cracks open the drink.

You've always wanted him to fuck you on the counter. Every time you're in the kitchen with him, you have hopes of him just bending you over and-

"Y/n." Sam waves his hand in front of your face and you blink, "Hmm?"

"I said here." He holds the open drink up and you laugh, "Oh, yeah. Sorry." You take it, bringing it up to your lips.

"What are you doing? Daydreaming about me?" He teases with a smirk and you about choke on your drink, "Mm." You cover your mouth with your wrist, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He shrugs, "That depends."

"On what?" You tilt your head, taking a sip again and he sighs, laying his hands on your knees, "Tell me and I'll tell you."

"Mm, I see." You nod, "Okay. I was daydreaming about you... giving me the rest of this drink."

"I'll give you the rest of something." He mumbles before snatching the half full drink from your hand. He drink a little bit more of it, keeping his eyes on you as he tilts his head back slightly.

"Please do." You smirk and he shakes his head, "You'd like that too much." He hands you the drink back and steps back, "I'm going to go edit."

You let out a quiet sigh, "Okay."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A Few Hours Later

"What are you guys thinking for dinner?" Colby asks as he walks into the editing room. You sit up from the bed, glancing at Sam, "I honestly have no idea."

"Are we going out to eat or?" Sam leans back, spinning around in the chair to face Colby.

Colby nods, "I mean, how else are we going to celebrate that we got a yes to explore the place everyone else gets a no from."

Sam jumps up from the chair, "What!?" He lays a hand on his head, "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking with me?"

You smile, watching Sam get exited like a kid in a candy store, "I don't think he's joking, Sam."

"Show me." Sam walks over, "Show me, that god dang email." He watches intently as Colby taps on his screen, "Now do you believe me?"

Sam takes a step backwards, "Do you know what this is going to do for us, Colby?" His eyes move to you and your smile grows smaller.

It's always been hot and cold with you and Sam.

One minute you could be inches away from kissing, then the next he's taking some girl to an abandoned zoo to hang out.

You think that it's because he probably doesn't know you like him, but then at the same time, you also think, how the fuck doesn't he know?

"Congratulations guys." You say getting up from the bed, "I'm proud of you both." You go to walk out, but stop when you feel a hand on your shoulder, "and where do you think you're going?"

You laugh slightly, turning around, "To my room?"

"It better be to get dressed because you're coming, too." Sam smiles and you tilt your head, "Really?"

Colby steps in, "Y/n. You have been with us from the start. You've helped us crack some of the cases we weren't even sure we could. You're a vital part of this, so yes. Of course you're coming."

You nod, "Okay. I'll go get ready." You slowly turn and walk to your room, Colby's speech replaying in your head.

You loved both of them, Colby platonically, Sam, not so much.

You'd be his if he asked, in a heartbeat. You've loved that man since you first laid eyes on him in middle school.

But it's never been you.

You sit down at your vanity, cycling through your lip sticks as you decide on what color dress you should wear tonight.

"Hey." Sam's voice is quiet and you turn around, "Can we talk?" You nod, setting down the lipstick tube, "What's up, Sam?"

He walks over, sitting on the end of your bed. He chews on the inside of his cheek, "So, I'm thinking about inviting someone to dinner and I figured that maybe you can help her feel comfortable throughout the night? Talk with her, ya know. Be her friend?"

You're kind of shocked, but you shouldn't be. Yes, Sam shows interests in you, but it's mainly when there's not someone else trying to get his attention.

As much as you don't want to feel like a second choice, that's honestly how you end up feeling at the end of the day.

"Yeah." You smile, lying through your teeth, "Not a problem at all."

"Really?" He sighs, "Thank you. She's kind of nervous because you know how people are, and if it gets out that we're ce-"

"I know how it goes Sam." You laugh slightly, "Don't worry about it."

"I owe you one." He stands up, giving you a smile as he turns and walks away. You turn back to the mirror and see him stop.

You watch as he turns around, leaning against the doorframe, "You should wear the white dress." He knocks on the frame and smirks before he disappears.

You sit there, analyzing the situation, which you know you shouldn't do because it's just going to drive you insane, like why tell you what dress to wear?

What's it matter?

You huffed, taking a deep breath as you switch on your curling iron. You set it down, giving it time to heat up by getting all of your makeup that you're going to use out.

You paint your lips in the deep red color, smirking as you know it'll go good with that ivory white color.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After curling your hair, you stand up, walking over to your closet and opening the doors. You push through the clothes, eyes dragging up and down every other dress option until you reach that certain one.

You take it off the hanger, turning around to lay it on your bed. You walk over to the door, getting ready to close it, when Colby's hand stops it from closing completely.

"Colby?" You question and open the door a bit more, "I'm getting ready to change."

He nods, "It'll be quick, I just want to make sure you're good."

You give him a confused look, "I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs, "I just know big dinners aren't really your thing, so I just wanted to-"

"I'm good, Colbs. Thank you." You give him a smile, knowing that that isn't why he asked. You've been tied at the hip with them for years.

He knows you like the back of his hand, but he never wants to push to get answers from you. He knows you'll come to him if it ever came down to it.

You close the door and turn out, letting out a sigh because you weren't fine. If you didn't have such great self control, you would have smacked sense into Sam when he was sitting on the end of your bed.

You walk over, taking off your clothes to replace them with the beautiful ivory dress in front of you. It was a chiffon wrap dress with mesh sleeves, and to say the least, you were in love with it.

You walk over, bending down to find a pair of heels to match, and quickly enough, you found a pair right on top.

You make sure you have everything you need for the night before flicking the lights off as you walk out of your room.

Colby whistles as you walk down the steps and you smirk, "Boosting my ego, are we?" You walk over to him and he shrugs, "Like it's my job." He laughs and leans back against the counter to check his phone, "Yo Sam! We gotta get going, brotha."

You've got to be kidding me, you think as Sam walks down the steps. He's wearing a, pretty much, all white outfit. The only thing that isn't white are his shoes and the zipper on his jacket.

Same ivory color as your dress.

"Are we ready?" Sam asks as he opens his gold glasses to put them on. Colby laughs, "We were waiting for you, so question is." Colby points to Sam, "Are you ready?"

Sam laughs and runs his hand through his hair, "Let's do it."

You follow them towards the door and they let you walk out first. You stop before the steps, waiting for them to shut and lock the door.

You follow Colby down the steps towards the car, Sam following behind you. Colby opens your door, letting you get in first.

You sit in the back row with Colby. Sam in the row in front of you guys because, you know, he has a date and all.

"Where to?" The driver asks and Sam hums, "Mm. One second." You watch over his shoulder as he asks some, Lylah, what her address is.

Colby nudges you and you look back at him. He smiles as he shakes his head, mouthing, "What are you doing?"

You lean back, whispering to him, "Just being nosey."

You laugh, along with Colby and Sam turns around, "Secrets don't make friends you know." You raise your brows, looking down to pick at your dress with your fingers, "Lots of things don't make friends, Sam."

You force a laugh, trying to not make it seem as deep as it really is, to you at least.

You can feel Colby stare at you as Sam tells the driver where he's supposed to go and you just shake your head.

You didn't have to talk to Colby about anything, because he already knew.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You come to a stop outside a rich looking apartment building, it looks like a fancy hotel.

Sam gets out and you bend down, leaning over Colby as you peer out the window, "Shit." You whisper quietly.

"Do you know this girl, Colby?" You ask leaning back up. Colby shrugs, "I've met her once, I think? It was when we were going meet and greets, she came and hung out with us with for the day, but I barely spoke to her."

"Hmm. Okay." You nod, leaning back against the seat, watching from the corner of your eye as Sam and his lady friend walk around to get in.

There's a perfectly good door.. right there, you think, rolling your eyes subtly as her head dips into view, "Hi Colby."

"Hey. How are ya?" Colby nods and she sits down with a sigh, "I'm actually doing pretty good." Her eyes move to you, "Hi y/n." She tilts her head, "I love the dress you're wearing."

Sam gets in, glancing back at you after closing the door.

Yeah, Sam told me to wear it, is what you want to say, "Thank you, it's the chiffon wrap dress from the new collection that just dropped from Zelenki's."

"Oh, yes! I love their clothing. I just bought a pair of jeans from there the other day. I'm super excited to see them." She smiles, turning towards Sam, "We need to get this guy on their site. He would look so good in some of their button ups."

She points to Sam and you nod, "Yeah, I'm sure he would."

Her face kinda falls for a second before she blinks and brushes her bangs from her face, "So where are we going to celebrate?"

"We decided on Ambiance." Colby says and she claps her hands together, "I love going there." She looks at you, "Y/n, if you're into alcohol, they have the best martini's."

You nod, "You bet I'll be drinking tonight."

Colby taps your leg, trying not to laugh, and you shrug, "To celebrate these guys getting the deal of a lifetime."

"Well, I wouldn't say t- well, you know what. We can say that." Sam laughs, smiling as he looks back at Colby.

Colby reaches up, patting Sam's shoulder, "This year is going to be sick for us."

After arriving to the restaurant, you get out and stand next to Colby. Sam and Lylah walk around and you have to look away, because if you don't, your face will give it away that you think her dress is completely ridiculous.

It looks like a prom dress that's been cut at the thigh.

"Pretty dress." You force a smile and she slides her hand down the front to smooth it out, "Thanks. Sam actually told me to wear it, he said he wanted to do a blue and white thing to kind of match."

Her eyes graze up and down your dress, moving to Sam's outfit as she lays her hand on his chest. You can tell that it really bothers her that you and Sam are the ones who are actually matching.

It's written all over her face.

"Alright." Colby claps his hands together, "Let's go in, because I'm hungry." He wraps his arm around your waist, leading you inside a head of Sam and Laylah.

"Brock and Golbach." Colby tells the host and he nods, "Ah yes. Right this way please."

You follow Colby through the sea of tables, making your way to the one room in the back corner.

"Your waitress will be right with you." The host nods and walks away.

Colby pulls your chair out, allowing you to sit before taking his seat next to yours. Sam sits in front of Colby, Layla in front of you.

"So, she leans forward, the martini I was talking about was this one." She points her pink painted nail onto the little card, "The chocolate martini. It's to die for."

Colby sniffles, hinting that you need to be nice, so you smile, "I think that's what I'll get then. Put your trust to the test." You wink at her and lean back, looking down at your menu.

You really did want to be nice to her, but mainly because Sam asked you to. But, at the same time, he doesn't see what's right in front of him, so you also wanted to kind of give him a, hey, fuck you.

"The pomegranate martini is also really good." You look up at her and she tilts her, "Well then I guess I'll have to put your trust to the test." She smiles and you laugh slightly with a nod, "Alright then."

As time goes on, more friends of Sam and Colby come in, joining the table. Everyone orders and now you're conversing back and forth with different people.

Every so often, your eyes will move towards Sam, and his eyes will meet yours.

Every time, you ask yourself why, and even how can he be so blind?

Colby lays his arm on the top of your chair, Sam's eyes following his movements before bringing his glass to his lips. He looks over at Laylah, leaning in to take a selfie with her.

He smiles that beautiful smile and you force yourself to look away.

"so y/n. Will you be joining the boys on this exciting trip?" Laylah sets her phone down, folding her arms over one another as she leans forward.

You look between Sam and Colby, shrugging slightly, "It's ultimately up to them, but I would lo-"

Sam and Colby speak at the same time, cutting you off, "She's coming."

Not only you, but Laylah raises her brows too, "Well I guess that answers that." She laugh, bringing her wide mouthed glass to her lips, finishing the rest of her drink, "I'm going to go get another one, y/n. Care to join?"

You reach down, grabbing your glass and finishing it, "I would love to." You smile, rising from your seat, smiling to the others as you walk around the long and full table.

"So, anything new with you?" She asks as you walk up to the bar. You shrug, "Nothing really." You laugh, "I mean, nothing more than the trips to investigate the ghostly world."

She nods, "I could never do that." She looks away to raise a hand to the bartender then back to you, "Is it really as scary as the videos make it seem?"

You nod, "Oh yeah. It's one thing to watch it through a screen but it's another thing to actually be there and witness it."

She nods, "Yeah I bet." She turns, "I'll have another pomagranete martini, and she'll have.." she points to you and you lean in, "Make it two."

The bartender nods and Laylah turns back to you, "So I don't really know how to ask this." She laughs, "Um."

"Just ask. I'm an open book." You smile and your smile quickly fades when the words leave her lips, "Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You tilt your head, slightly confused as to what changed. She clears her throat, "If you have a thing for Sam, I'm going to need you to drop it."

"If I have a- what? What the hell are you talking about?" You laugh, "I don't have a thing for Sam."

"Then why did you dress to match him? Why is it that I find you looking at him every time you think I'm not looking?" She sighs, "I get it, Sam is very, very handsome, and it's okay to be a little jealous, but can you not let your jealousy seep through, because if it happens anymore, it'll literally stain my dress."

You stand there, completely dumbfounded in silence.

She turns, "Oh, thank you." She grabs the glasses, handing one to you, "Cheers." She winks and starts walking back to the table.

You follow her, your cheeks heating up as you become angry at what just happened. You take a calming breath before you pass through the doors, putting on a smile as you walk back around to your seat.

"Everything go okay?" Sam asks and Laylah smiles, glancing up at you, "Oh yeah. Everything is just perfect." She leans over, pressing a kiss to his cheek and you clench your jaw.

You bring your glass to your lips and take a long sip.

"Attention, everyone." Someone at the end of the table stands up as they clink their glass. You lean forward, looking around Colby to see and you smile when you see their friend standing there.

"I just want to say a huge congratulations to Sam and Colby for landing this investigation. This is going to be one of the biggest investigations they've ever done and I cannot be more proud of them, so without further ado, please. Give my pals a huge, huge round of applause."

Sam and Colby stand up, smiling and batting their hands. You reach out, grabbing your phone so you can record a story for Instagram.

You smile as you type the words, congratulations guys. You deserve this so, so, so much!

You tag them and set your phone back down after posting. Colby leans in, "You're a part of this, too. Don't let them saying just us fool you."

You really felt like part of the team, that was until you got back from Italy, but that'll come with time.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After dinner and an hour or two of talking about Poveglia, the four of you make your way back to the car.

"How long will you be in Italy for?" Laylah asks laying her hand on Sam's shoulder. She twirls his hair around her finger and you roll your eyes as you look away.

"A few days, four at most. We planned on seeing Venice again while we're over that way." Sam looks at her, giving her a smile.

She smiles, her eyes glancing back at you before she runs her hair through his hair, "Do you know when you leave?"

You and Colby look at each other, giving each other a look of disgust.

You knew what she was doing, and she knew it, too.

Sam shrugs, "Probably not for another week or so."

"So we have time to spend together before you flee the country." She giggles, "I mean, that's only if you want to."

Sam nods, "I mean.. I don't see why not." He chuckles and points, "Here, I'll walk you to the door." Sam opens the door when the driver stops and helps her out.

As soon as the door shuts, word vomit.

"When I went up to bar with her to get another drink, she cornered me and pretty much flipped out on me. She said that if I have a thing for Sam I need to drop it and then asked why I dressed to match him and then she said that I took any chance I got when she wasn't look, or I thought she wasn't looking to look at him and then to top it off she said that if anymore jealously seeped out of me it would literally stain her dress."

You take a breath and look at Colby who's staring at you, "I'm sorry, what?"

"She basically sa-" you stop talking as soon as the door opens again, and Sam gets back in, turning around to look at you, "So did you have fun?"

"Oh yeah." You raise your brows, "So much fun."

The driver starts to drive you guys back home.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks and you look up, ready to snap but you bite your tongue, "I'm fine, I just.. have a headache."

"Mm." Sam nods and turns back around. He brings his phone up, "What the fuck?"

"What's going on, Sam?" Colby asks and Sam face his phone towards you and Colby, "She's literally blowing up my phone."

"Why?" You ask, and Sam scoffs, "Why is she saying that you cornered her at the bar?"

"I didn't. If you want the truth she cornered me. I literally just told Colby everything that happened as soon as you got out." You motion towards Colby, "She accused me of liking you and basically said that I dressed to match you on purpose which, Sam. If I'm correct. You told me to wear this fucking dress."

"Let's not argue in here, please." Colby says trying to defuse the situation.

"Who said we're arguing?" You and Sam say the same time and you both huff.

"Exactly." Colby shakes his head, "Can we just wait until we get h-"

"Why would she say that you did though?" Sam looks at you and you shrug, "I don't know, maybe because she knows that we're close and I was bound to tell you?"

"Were you going to tell me?" Sam tilts his head and you shake your head, "No."

"Why?"

"Because Sam. I don't really think it matters, does it." You snap and the driver awkwardly puts his hand up, "You guys are uh.." he clears his throat, "Home."

"Thank you." You all say in unison. Colby gets out and helps you out and Sam comes around, ready to keep going but you walk away.

"Really?" He says loudly, "You're just going to walk away?" We need to talk about this."

"Can we do this inside?" Colby tries again but you stop in your tracks, turning around on your heels to walk back to him, "Do you really want to know why it's really not that important Sam?"

"Guys come on." Colby groans, "Please."

Ignoring Colby, Sam nods, "Yeah. I really do."

"Because you're bound to take your new girlfriend's side anyway, so why does hearing my side even matter?" You throw your arms up, "I've been trying to get-"

You stop talking and Sam tilts his head, "Trying to get what, y/n." Sam says plainly and you snort, "I don't even.." you shake your head, "You're so blind to certain things in front of you, that you just.."

You shake your head, "I can't do this. I can't do this right now." You blink away the tears that are forming quickly and turn to go inside.

Colby is standing there with the door already open and you barge past him. Sam on your tail calling out for you, "Y/n. Wait. Wait."

You stop halfway up the steps, "it doesn't. Matter. Sam. What don't you get."

He gets pissed, "Fine. Then don't fucking tell me. If you just want to run from this like you run from everything else th-" he stops talking, quickly coming to the realization that what he said was not what he wanted to come out.

You stand there, letting the tears you tried to blink away, fall, "Fuck. You."

You turn, running up to your room, shutting the door with a slam. You grab a suitcase, sobbing as you begin to throw clothes into it.

You hear footsteps come to your door and you sniffle, holding your breath so you can try and hear who it is.

There's a knock and you sigh, nose stuffy, "Go away, Sam." You wipe your cheek with your palm and Colby speaks from the other side of the door, "It's not Sam."

You take a second, hesitating to open the door but you give in. You walk over, cracking the door open and walking away to sit on your bed.

He slips in, not opening the door more than he has to, "Hey."

You sniffle, laughing slightly, "Hey."

He walks over, sitting next to you, "Are you-"

He stops talking as you look at him with a mascara streaked face. He nods, "Right. Yeah." You shake your head, looking towards the door, "What happened to us?"

"Us? You and me were fine." He smirks and you smile slightly, "You know what I mean."

He nods, "I don't think anything happened, y/n. I think.." he pauses and you look at him, "Just say it. I know you already know so just.." you push your hands out in front of you, "Lay it on me. Can't do much more damage."

"I'm just going to tell you what I think is happening, and you can correct me if I'm wrong, okay?" He look at you and you nod.

He nods, "Okay, so what I think happened, is that you are sick of Sam not seeing that you're in love with him."

Colby's words hurt, and the fact that they're true, makes it hurt even worse.

You nod, silently as you try not to cry.

"I also think, now, I love Sam to death, and I will tell you in true honestly that I did call him out on this, but I think Sam has led you on in a way." Colby looks over to the door and back to you.

"He's not on the other side of the door listening is he?" You point to it and Colby shakes his head, "No. he's in his room, waiting for his turn with therapist Colby."

You laugh slightly, taking in a sharp breath as your urge to cry comes back, "I just.." your voice cracks with your words, "I can't keep doing this."

"I know." Colby whispers, laying his arm around your shoulder, "I know."

"The constant flirting, him telling me to wear a dress that matches him without even telling me it matches and then completely blindsiding me with, oh he wanted to do a blue and white matching theme, fuck that."

You stand up, "I just don't-" you lay your hand on your face, "We go from being so close to kissing to this?" You gently fling your arms, "I jus-" you take a deep breath, "Have fun in Italy, call me when you can."

You zip your suit case and Colby grabs it, "No, I want you to come."

"I can't be around him, Colby. As much as I want to, I just.. it'll ruin everything."

"Everything already is ruined. Sam isn't going to forgive himself for what he said." Colby stands up and you shrug, "He can figure that out on his own. I'm done trying to get myself out of these feelings. I'm done trying to act like it's okay for him to hug me from behind then act like we're friends who just met, I'm just.. done trying to get him to love me.."

You look at Colby, "I'm done trying."

Colby frowns, "Y/n."

"I'm serious Colby, I'll come get the rest of my stuff when you guys leave for Italy." You pull the handle out from your suitcase and shake your head, "Make sure to tell him everything I said."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It's been two days since they've left for Italy.

As you're lying in bed, in your room at their house, your pillow soaked from your tears that you can't turn off, your mind slips into the good memories of you and Sam.

"No. You can't be serious, Sam." You laugh, reaching across his body for grab a card.

He watches you as you slowly lean back, "What's it say?"

"It says.. what was the last dirty message you received?" You bite your lip and tilt your head. He copies your motion and raises his eyebrows, "Can I skip?"

You shake your head, "No way, Golbach. Spill it or.." You smirk, "Take three shots." He presses his lips together and tilts his head back, looking down his nose at you, "Gimme the bottle, baby."

You bite your lip as you reach for the bottle, sliding it across the table to stop in front of him.

He pours a shot, takes it. Then another, then the third and final shot, "Now what?" He leans in, "Are you going to tell me yours?"

Your eyes move from his lips to his eyes, "What if I say no?" You bite your lip and he shrugs, raising his eyebrows, "You tell me."

You back away from each other as Colby comes down the steps, "You're playing without me? Thanks for the invite I guess."

You roll onto your other side, trying to escape them, but you just can't.

"Whatcha doin?" Sam asks waking into the kitchen. You smile as you continue to scrub the glass dish, "Dishes."

"You know we have a dishwasher, right?" He laughs and you look over at him, "Not everything is dishwasher safe, Sam."

"I'm just saying.. nothing has broken on me.. yet." He laughs and walks up behind you, "Watcha listenin' to?"

You laugh, "Music."

You feel him walk up behind you and your scrubbing gradually slows down, "Why don't you take a break, I'm sure you've done enough damage on that dish, and dance with me."

You set the dish down and look at him over your shoulder, "What?"

He grabs your waist, spinning you around, "You heard me." He smiles and takes your bubble covered hand into his, his other hand still on your hip.

He pulls you a step out away from the sink and pulls you along with him. He laughs as he steps back, sliding his other hand into hours and you lift your arms, laughing as he spins you around.

He pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around your neck, "You know, you're fun to hang out with."

You sob into your pillow, angry at Sam all over again.

Your phone dings, and you assume that it's probably just Colby, giving you hourly updates on how their investigation is going.

You lift your head, picking up your phone when it chimes again.

Sam: I'm sorry

You force out a laugh, trying not to cry, "Don't do this." You close your eyes, "I can't." You whisper, clearing his message from your Home Screen.

You sit up, looking around at your half packed room.

You wanted to be out by the time they got back, you told Colby you were leaving, you also told him not to tell Sam.

As you stand up, throwing things into a box, your phone dings, and then a few more times, and you groan, "I swear to.. fuck." You groan, leaning down to grab it, eyes watering at each message you read.

Sam: I want you so much. You're all I fucking think about. please. Talk to me. I need to I don't know, explain my self I guess? I wasn't ready I didn't think I was ready to actually settle down and I know that's what you want or wanted with me Y/n Please don't just read these

An incoming call from Colby interrupts your stare at the texts that are still coming through, "Hello?"

"Please don't kill him." Colby says frantic on the other end of the phone. You furrow your brows, sniffling, obvious that you've been doing nothing but crying, "What are you-"

There's banging on the front door.

Loud, repetitive, non stop banging.

"What's fucking happening?" You pull your phone away from your ear, seeing Sam's texts,

Open the door I left everything in Italy

You put the phone back up to your ear, "Why is he here"

Colby sighs, "Just talk to him."

"No." You snap and Colby talks immediately, "Look, y/n. Neither one of us can do this investigation. We have to convince the people who own this to reschedule our visit. Sam couldn't keep it together for the intro."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Now please." He sighs, "Just go. Open. The door."

"Fine." You hang up, making your way down the steps. You move the curtain on the door and look out at a soaking wet Sam.

"Please." His words are muffled from the door being shut, but you can still tell what he's saying, "I love you."

You clench your jaw, unlocking the door and opening it, "Where was that before all of this?" You step out side the door, the pouring rain coming down onto you now, "do you know how painful it was to have feelings for someone you can't be with?"

"Y/n." Sam shrugs, lifting his hands from his sides, but you keep going, "Do you know how many times, I've wished for you to not be in love with someone else? Then you go and hang out with a girl at a place you took me to first?"

"I'm sorry." His voice cracks, "Just please.. let-"

"I was jealous that night Sam, the night you asked me to play nice with your new girlfriend, Laylah. I was so fucking jealous Sam. But do you know how fucking stupid I felt? Being jealous over someone that wasn't even mine?"

He nods and you scoff, "I don't think you do because if you would have asked me to be yours, I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat and don't even come back with the you should have asked me, because I know damn well that you could tell I loved you, Colby even picked up on it before you did."

Sam stands there, staring at you, eyes red from crying.

Hair dripping wet from the rain, you can't judge him because you look the same way.

"We're almost the literal definition of he likes her, she likes him. It's obvious to everyone except them.. but the only difference is, I knew what I wanted. I wanted you and all you did was lead me on."

Tears mix in with the beads of rain that form on your cheeks, your voice breaking, "It shouldn't have come to this, Sam."

You stand still as he walks up to you, "Y/n."

"It.." you sniffle, "It feels like you destroyed me, Sam."

"Let me fix it." He mumbles as he slides his hands over your cheeks, tilting your head up so you can look at him, "Please." He rests his forehead against yours, "Let me fix it."

"There's nothing-"

He cuts you off, "Don't say there's nothing to do. Because there's everything to do."

You sob quietly, his hands still on your cheeks. His thumbs brush gently over your wet skin, "I called whatever it was off with Laylah the night we got into it. The night you left me."

Your eyes meet his, "Why."

"Because I knew that my forever was walking out that door and I knew I had to do everything in my power to get it back." He sniffles, "You've supported me since day one. You've loved me.. since day one."

"Why now, Sam? Why after you flew all the way to Italy? Why after it took me telling Colby I was done with everything? It shouldn't have come to this."

He doesn't say anything, the rain smacking against the pavement fills your ears.

You reach up, grabbing his wrists to pull them away but he presses his lips to yours.

As much as you want to pull away, you can't.

"Sam." You slide your hands around his neck, lips moving with his as he slides his hands down to pull your hips against his.

"Please." He whispers, sniffling as he gently brushes his nose again your cheek, "Y/n."

You stay silent, the only sound that comes from you is a few sniffles.

"I can't do anything without you." Sam wipes your cheeks with his thumbs, "I wish I knew how stupid I was being. I tried to push you away because I didn't want to hurt you. I wasn't ready, but y/n, sweetheart, the risk of you walking out of my life forever has made me realize that I want you. I want you in so many ways, it's actually kind of insane."

You look up at him, "It shouldn't have taken.. this.. for you to finally realize what you want, Sam."

He shakes his head, "I won't ever let it get to that point ever again, because you're mine." He lifts you up, your legs hugging his waist like they've always dreamed of doing.

Your arms snake around his neck, not saying another word as he walks through the door, kicking it closed, "I promise."

You lean in, hugging him as he walks over to the couch. He sits down and you moving your legs to straddle his lap.

You lean back, hands sliding around his neck to cup his wet cheeks. Your eyes move around his face, back and forth between his eyes before you lean in, pressing your lips to his.

The heat you have always dreamed up, felt every time your eyes met his, is there.

And it's hotter than ever.

"I love you." Sam whimpers against your lips, "I'm so sorry."

You shake your head, "We can talk later. Right now.. I just.." you rest your forehead against his, "Wanna be with you."

He nods, sweeping your body over to lay under his. His lips kiss from your him, down your neck, "I wish.. I knew how to love you like this before."

You run a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say. He kisses back up to your lips, "Do you want to do this?"

You nod, tugging at his shirt, "Please."

He leans up, pulling his soaked shirt up over his body and tossing it onto the floor. You sit up and he does the same to your shirt, "You're so fucking beautiful."

His lips reconnect to yours and you moan quietly as he slowly grinds against you. He kisses back to your ear, his voice quiet, almost sounding like it's going to break, "You were the only girl I could ever think about."

Your eyes start to burn and you turn your head, reaching up to grab his so you can turn it towards you and kiss you.

The kiss is hot. Full of passion.

It's what you wanted all along.

He slides his hands down, slipping them into your rain soaked sweatpants. He pulls them down your legs, and reaches for the button on his pants, popping them open as he leans back down to kiss you.

He stands up, discarding his wet jeans to the floor before hovering his body back over yours.

He pushes his boxers down, just enough for his cock to spring free and he slips your panties to the side. Not wasting another second, he drops his head to your shoulder as he slowly slips his cock into you, burying it deep inside with a groan.

You gasp, clinging to him as you tighten your legs around his waist, breathing out a whiney, "Sam."

His nose brushes against your cheek as he lifts his head, "I love you, I'm so sorry." He pulls out, slowly thrusting back in, "I'm so sorry."

You wrap your arms around his neck, gasping with each thrust into you, "I love you." Your voice breaks, a small moan following after, "I've always loved you."

"I wish I knew I could have loved you like this." He kisses down your neck and back up, groaning lowly in your ear, "I wish I knew what I was risking."

You squeeze your eyes shut, a tear slipping down and falling down your cheek, "Don't ever.." you tangle your fingers in his hair, "Don't ever leave."

"Never." He pulls one of your hands down, interlocking it with his against your head as he lifts his to look at you, "I love you. No one could ever take your place."

You smile slightly and nod, "I'm holding you to it."

"As long as you need, baby." Sam smiles and sighs, "You were made for me." He kisses your lips, groaning against them as he thrusts harder but still slow.

You drag your nails up his back, moaning as he moves his head down to suck a mark into your neck.

His grip on your hand tightens, "I love you so fucking much."

You weren't ever going to get sick of hearing that.

You were relieved to finally be hearing it in the first place.

"I love you." You whisper, moaning as he lets go of your hand to bring it down to squeeze your boob. You tug his hair, arching your back as much as you can against his, "S-Sam."

"Cum with me, babe. Can you hold it?" He rests his forehead against yours as his fingers twist your nipple between his fingers.

You whimper, giving his a slight nod and he hums in response, "Almost there, sweetheart."

He thrusts a few moments longer before he kisses your cheek a few times, "Okay, okay, let go for me. Cum for me." His voice is quiet and his thrusts slow down as he feels you clench around him.

You let out a loud moan, pulling him into you as your nails dig into his skin.

He groans, pulling you closer by the hips, "F-fuck, fuck." He pulls out, letting his cum spill onto your lower stomach with a low moan.

You rest your head back, breathing heavy as your body relaxes.

He reaches down, grabbing his damp shirt and wiping you off. He tosses it down and holds his hand out, "Come here."

He pulls you to a sitting position and you immediately fall into him. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly, "I'm sorry it took me this long to realize."

"Better late than never, right?" You look up at him and he nods, "I guess." He smiles, pressing his lips to your forehead, "Go get a shower, standing out in the rain might get you sick."

"Only if you'll come with me. I'm not doing anything without you for a while."

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Genuinely sorry if this sucked. I'm not sure how I feel about it, honestly. So tell me how you liked it.

As always, thanks for reading & I love you!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated 🖤

[iheartmapi]

My Kink Is Karma

(Yes I shamelessly stole the tile from Chappell, anyways first time writing for Alexia!)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Summary: You’re in Real Madrid, so it’s no surprise that you and Alexia despise each other. Your club is playing a match against Barça which ends in Real winning, afterwards you and Alexia have an exchange of nasty words…Alexia subtly insults you in an interwiew which infuriates you, not too soon later when you’re at a club with your teammates it just so happens that Alexia’s there too…

Enemies with benefits. (But not really)

TW: heavy making out, grinding (kind of), alcohol consumption, crude language.

Word summary: 2,924

“Wishing you the best, in the worst way.”

Hundreds of laughters and cheering filled your ears…you and your teammates were all smiling ear to ear, the reason was simple, you just got done with a match against Barça, and won, you were bursting from happiness, but knowing how mad and disappointed your long time enemy must be right now also rubbed off on you positively.

In fact you were quick to look across the pitch, searching for Alexia. Seeing her mad or down on her luck in general was a massive treat for your ego, and there she was…”La Reina”, you scoffed inside your mind as you thought of the nickname, in your eyes that woman was far away from a queen. She was so far away from where you were, but you could feel the rage heating up inside her from your place already. You grinned, as you saw Alexia glance at you as well, she then turned back to her teammates, telling them something, from her body language it seemed like she was complaining, but who cares?

Well, this was finished, time to get back to your locker rooms. You walked alongside your teammates gleefully, chatting with each other about the match. You entered the locker room…chatters and loud voices filled the room, most refreshed themselves a bit, splashing some cold water, washing their hands and etc.

After talking with your teammates you went to your locker…you pulled out your phone having to check something, mostly messages from close friends and family members questioning how you were..you grabbed your duffel bag, phone in hand as you headed out with the rest of the girls, at that moment you felt buzzing, surely it was a call from your mother. You told the girls you’d catch up with them and that you just had to answer…

It was a typical casual conversation, just your mom congratulating you..the typical motherly worry about how you’re doing…that kind of stuff.

You finally hanged up, having said bye to her, the corridor was empty, just as you turned your head in the exits direction you suddenly heard a scoff behind you, you turned back, and as your brain took in who it was a scowl immediately befall your lips. It was Alexia, looking uptight as ever.

“What do you want?” You snarled at the blonde woman “Me? Oh I just wanted to congratulate you on your win” she chuckled bitterly, you shook your head in disdain, noticing how Alexia was inching closer to you. “Honestly Putellas, you can take your congratulations and shove it up your ass” you chided, she frowned at the remark “So considerate of you, are you really that pretentious that you can’t take a simple damn congrats?” You raised your eyebrow at how she was trying to play this off “Like you’d ever want to congratulate me out of the goodness of your heart…I know damn well you’re probably trying to curse me or something”

Alexia was now at an arm’s length, it seemed like she got even more mad at that “Are you calling me a witch?” She asked with an eerie mad calmness in her voice, “Perhaps, I think it’s fitting, I’d change it to ‘la bruja’ instead” Alexia’s brows furrowed, she crossed her arms “Why do you have to act like such a little bitch all the time?” You scoffed at the sudden intensity of her words “I’m not being a little bitch” you argued, “Yes you are, you’re a goddamn brat, a child, I have no idea how you even got into Real Madrid in the first place, I guess they just take the first buffoons they can find-“ you cut in “Don’t you dare call me that! I swear to God someday I’ll…” Alexia looked down at you “Someday you’ll? Can’t even finish your sentence? You’re pathetic” she retaliated, “Look in the mirror before you start calling me names! Do you have no self respect?” You snapped back, Alexia leaned against the corridors wall “I’m sure I know way more about self respect than you do…who knows just what you guys get up to” she scowled at you, now…was she trying to suggest what you think? “You sound very intrested, don’t you think that’s a bit weird?” For a second you swear you saw a light rosy colour dust Alexia’s cheeks, but soon that damned scowl came back onto her face “No.” She simply stated “Quit the remarks, Y/n” she then added, “You started it” you just raised your shoulders, clearly she couldn’t find anything to say anymore, the rosy colour came back onto her face, now staying there “You’re amusing, you know that? And I don’t mean it in a positive way” you rolled your eyes “Whatever you say, I don’t have time for this Alexia” and that’s how you ended the conversation abruptly before storming towards the exit, when Alexia was nowhere in sight anymore you started fuming, just who the hell did that women think she was? And what was it with that peculiar remark about what you “got up to”? Oh, who the hell cares…you weren’t going to let her plague your mind now.

That same evening, you and the girls from your team decided to go out to celebrate your victory at a club, your group was sitting in a car on your way to the club, you were feeling much better now, more at ease, now having forgotten about the accident with Alexia from earlier, that blonde pest wasn’t going to haunt you when you were trying to have some fun…and that’s the mindset you had at the moment, carefree and happy…but nothing lasts forever.

Your team friend had poked your arm, wanting to show you something important. “You haven’t seen this?” She said as she pulled out her phone and typed something in, she then brought it to you so that you could see…a video started playing, it looked like an interview, but with who? That question was quickly answered as no one else but Alexia fucking Putellas appeared on the screen, you frowned…why was your friend showing you this? After all EVERYONE knew you and Alexia were like a cat and a dog, you despised each other and didn’t care to hide it.

“So Alexia tell us…what happened between you and Y/n Y/l/n after the match? We heard people tell us that some heated words were exchanged between the two of you”

You saw Alexia smile and chuckle

“Oh me and Y/n? I can assure you all that nothing bad happened, we talked, yes…but I’m sure it’s just the adrenaline from a won match that spoke through her at that moment…we all know how young people are”

And with that your teammate pulled her phone back, turning it off. She looked at you, wanting to hear your opinion on this…inside you were RAGING after hearing that stupid subtle jab at you. “So she called you irrational basically” your teammate said “Yeah I got that” you answered, and then gulped trying to keep your emotions in place, “I think she’s just annoyed she didn’t win…and now she’s trying to get at me…it’ll pass” you added with a put on smile, you still couldn’t believe she had the sheer audacity, what a bitter woman that blonde was.

Some time later, you’ve made it to the club, now your mindset was kind of cranky from watching that interview…like your happiness was some fruit that was left untouched for too long and started rotting, but the cause for your rotting was the devil incarnate herself…You guessed you were just going to try to drink your problem away and have some fun FINALLY at last.

Your team kind of split, some girls going onto the dance floor, some to drink, some to talk at a completely different part of the club…you sat at one of the lounge couches alongside some of your teammates that stayed there..you excused yourself, wanting to get a drink for yourself.

The exact moment you stood up…you spotted something weird, was that…no it couldn’t be, but it was! Barça! Here at the SAME club your team went to…this had to be a joke, because you’ve never experienced fate playing with you SO much like right now..you shook your head, you definitely needed alcohol to ease yourself from this.

You quite literally stormed away towards the bar…you sat down at one of the velvet stool chairs, telling the bartender what you wanted and sighing as you held your head in your hands, you felt your happiness falling into pieces, becoming ruins of what used to be so great..

You got your drink and started drinking your sorrows away..you felt as if anything could go to shit at any moment knowing Alexia was here. And even though it was very touché, the worst happened.

“So you’re following me, eh?”

You blinked, once, twice, thrice- that cursed voice…you turned your head to look at the “stranger” who just spoke to you, and of course it couldn’t be anyone but Alexia…You laughed, laughed in pure pity for yourself “If I wanted to stalk someone, it surely wouldn’t be you” you retorted, Alexia smirked at your passive aggressive tone “So cruel as always”

The two of you sat there, you didn’t even feel uncomfortable, you kind of accepted the fact that she was here…”What are you even doing here?” Alexia began, weirdly this time her tone seemed to have no malice behind it, and so you answered truthfully “Well WE were going to celebrate this win tonight…and uh, you?” Alexia drummed her fingers alongside the bars counters, “It’s my birthday today”

You were almost tempted to wish her a happy birthday, but then you were reminded that “oh yeah this is my enemy” so you just answered with a simple “Oh”

“Tell me something, Y/n” you were prepared for some mean joke about you or something else of that nature “Are you perhaps loosened up from the alcohol enough for…” Alexia paused for dramatic effect “dancing?” You looked at her curiously “Dancing? I’m afraid there’s no one for me to dance with” you answered, “I want you to dance with me, then” she wanted…what? Your eyes widened “What? Haha funny…” she was probably only teasing you “Nope, I mean it” she confirmed her true intentions “let’s dance” dancing with your enemy? It was like something taken out of some cheap enemies to lovers romance book “Seriously?” You continued, being baffled by her “For Christ’s sake Y/n, I don’t have all the time in the world for you to constantly ask me that” the blond grabbed your arm, not too tightly thankfully, and pulling you after her.

Was this a dream? If it was then it made no sense at all…here you were, about to dance with her out of all people? Alexia moved gracefully through the crowd, it was almost enchanting to watch as she passed through the clubbers to get to the dance floor…

When she finally found a spot she thought of as good enough she turned around to face you again.

The look on Alexia’s face was one you’ve never seen before…she seemed almost determined to achieve something, but you didn’t know what. You felt as if time froze around the two of you, then Alexia started moving, this side of her was so…shocking to see (at least to you) she was like a beautiful siren singing it’s haunting song trying to lure in sailors, and in this case, you were the sailor for sure. She had this grace to her moves, she wasn’t trashy, not kitschy and her dancing almost seemed theatrical..

You knew you couldn’t stand there like a stick the entire time…so even though you moved a bit awkwardly due to her sudden outburst you did it anyway.

You felt Alexia’s hands creeping onto your shoulders, she wanted to connect this “performance” with you, honestly? You felt like a teenage boy seeing a playboy magazine for the first time ever. Your hands went to her waist after a short thought process, it felt as if each and every one of your grey cells dissolved though.

This wasn’t your first rodeo, sure you’ve been with women before, you’ve hugged women, kissed them, did a lot of other stuff with them…so what was diffrent about Alexia? Why did she make you feel this way even though you hated her guts?

So many questions, and so little time to answer them. Alexia suddenly twirled you around pressing your back to her chest, your heartbeats were as fast as a racing car when you felt her warm breath on your neck, people could see, for fucks sake your teammates could see- but for some reason you didn’t care at all…

You raised your hands to where Alexia was resting her own on your shoulders, lacing them together, Alexia must’ve received this gesture as some kind of agreement, as you felt her lips suddenly grazing your neck and shoulder…but key word; grazing. Did she want you to burn up from being flustered?

Alexia leaned in towards your ear, whispering in a low voice “follow me” with that her hand left you completely, Alexia stepped away, looking behind herself to make sure you were indeed following her, and you were…it’s like she hypnotised you. The same you from earlier this day when the two of you argued in that corridor would’ve scoffed at even thinking about you and Alexia in an intimate setting…yet here you were.

Surely it was made clear to you that she was making you follow her to the restroom, one could definitely imagine what two people

going together to a restroom in a club meant, you only hoped that it was empty right now…

When you two reached the door, Alexia grasped your hand firmly again, she pulled you in, it was almost as if she was getting impatient…it's easy to guess that once inside, Alexia pulled you into one of the stalls.

She locked the door, the plus of these stalls was that they were at least the kind which walls went down all the way, from the celling to the floor, no gaps.

the lightning was dim, but you could see the intensity burning in Alexia's eyes like two big campfires..

Her hands flew to your face, precise fingers gripping your jaw. She tilted it slightly…there was an exchange of glances, slowly you felt the heat of the moment overtaking you completely, Alexia’s eyes crashed onto yours, but when using the word “crashed” one shouldn’t thinking of cars colliding onto one another…it was rather like two swans instead of cars. Her lips moved against yours, she tasted sweet, you could taste the remnants of some fruity drink unknown to you, as her hands were busy with holding your jaw, yours went to her shoulders, as your kissed as if your lips were two dancers..your hands eventually ended up moving down to her waist, caressing wherever you could in the moment

You pulled Alexia even closer to you, your bodies now touching, the need to have her close to you was beyond of your comprehension…her touch, lips, body, hands…everything, was like a soothing balm to whatever pain was deep inside you.

The blonde groaned into the kiss, your bodies now following the movement of your lips and moving against each other as well, arousal was rising higher and higher, eventually Alexia pulled away for a moment…catching her breath, you could see her lips looking bruised from the kissing, they were like fresh strawberries…”I need you” you whispered desperately..and so the two of you got back to it again. The air in this fun-sized cabin was getting hotter and hotter, Alexia’s hands started moving freely, she was combing them through your hair, and you gripped her hips like a vice..it was crazy, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before…just as you thought you were going to explode you felt her hands moving down your abdomen, the woman you hated was doing all of this to you, and you loved it.

The stall’s lock moved, first, you came out then Alexia behind you, thankfully there was no one else but the two of you in the restroom right now, the two of you came up to the mirrors, you splashed some cold water on your face whilst Alexia took care of refreshing herself on her own, your hair was a bit disheveled. A weird calming silence hanged between the two of you, only the sound of rustling and water could be heard, outside of the pumping bass that reached even the bathroom of course…

You stood in front of the mirror, you turned your head looking at Alexia who was trying to make her hair look presentable. You took a breath

“Happy birthday Alexia” you said in a calm voice

She turned to you, a tiny bit surprised before the smallest of smiles graced her face “Thanks”

It was kind of weird to talk to her now after the whole stall thing…”Uh..I’m sorry for insulting you…many times at that” you started, Alexia shook her head “Don’t worry Y/n, I’m sorry..for being an asshole so many times” you smiled at her apology

“So we’re good?” One last time, you had to ask her this and end this conversation

“Yeah, we’re good” Alexia answered simply

And so the two of you left the bathroom, you said bye to each other before going off in diffrent directions of the club. After all…you had to get back to your clubs.

(Big thanks to @kshvue099 again)

[creepswrites]

DIRT ROADS | Lester x Reader

rereading some of my old writing renewed my love for writing this scruffy man <3 this is also slightly self indulgent oops

LESTER SINCLAIR X GN!READER

SUMMARY: The coat he wore was rough and the necklace he wore dug slightly into your skin. But he felt warm and alive and you felt his laugh more then you actually heard it. It felt strangely magical and the mere thought of that baffled you. What about this situation was remotely magical?

The sound of the sputtering of your car engine made you groan, your forehead bumping against the steering wheel in quite frustration. Overhead, raindrops pattered harshly against the top of your car like small marbles and you heard the way your wheels dug into the muddy roads. This was not the place you wanted to get stuck in.

"I told you we'd get stuck out here!" Your friend Sadie huffed in exasperation, throwing her hands up in defeat. "If we had just turned back and asked for directions," She trailed off, shooting a pointed glare at the two guys in the backseat, "We wouldn't be in this mess!"

Robbie - Sadie's long-term boyfriend, though you weren't exactly sure why, seeing as they argued more often then not - just scoffed at his girlfriend's frustrations. "Look, let's just get out of the car and fuckin' push, alright?"

"Can't," You sighed as you lifted your head up. "The front wheels are trapped in the mud. Pushin' will just get us more stuck."

"Well what the fuck else are we supposed to do?" Robbie shouted before swinging the door open and stomping out into the pouring rain, uncaring of how his hair and clothes quickly became soaked.

When he did, his friend who sat beside him - Leon, you think was his name - quickly shuffled out to join him. Leon was nicer than Robbie but was a bit of a pushover. This camping trip the four of you planned was mostly Sadie's attempts to pair you up with Leon despite both of your resistances on the matter.

"Honestly," Sadie sighed, "That guy just can't take no for an answer."

You hummed, disinterested in her latest "Robbie Rant" as you'd taken to calling them. "I still think this whole camping thing is a bad idea. Even if we'll be in a cabin." You weren't exactly enthusiastic at the idea of listening to Sadie argue with her boyfriend for a long weekend while you sat awkwardly next to Leon.

"Don't be such a downer," Sadie said as she poked your cheek with a pointy, baby blue nail. "The rain'll pass, babe. It always does."

When you heard the sound of your car door open, a blast of cold air hitting your body, you turned your head and were met with a worried look on Robbie's face. "Hey, uh, there's... some dude over here." He gestured with a thumb, arms crossed over his chest to try and protect himself from the chilled rain. "He's, uh, offerin' to tow us to the nearest town."

You perked your head up. "Oh! Sure, okay, yeah." Frankly you were just relieved the four of you weren't going to have to camp out in the car or, god forbid, walk through the rain and dark foresty area in hopes of finding civilization.

"Yeah, I wouldn't get too excited." Robbie mumbled as you poked your head out to look behind your car. "Dude's kinda weird."

A scrawny looking man stood slumped against a silver truck chatting to Leon, seemingly unbothered by the rain. When he caught your eye, he tilted his green cap in greeting and gave you a wide gap toothed smile as he made his way towards you. Outwardly, you didn't see anything wrong with him. Maybe a little scruffy but nothing outwardly strange. "Hey there," He said with such a heavy southern drawl it made your eyes feel droopy, "Saw y'all got stuck. I might be able 't tow ya back to town. It ain't far, but you folks'll probably wanna ride with me. 'Case stuff gets too bumpy."

You considered his offer for a moment. The idea of shelter was too tempting to ignore, however... "That's awfully kind of you," You said slowly, watching his smile soften into something more genuine, "What's the catch?"

"Ain't no catch, honest." He said as he slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Robbie gave him a weird look but you ignored it, keeping your focus on the stranger. "Jus' happened to be in the neighborhood on my way back home. Saw y'all broke down 'n figured I'd lend a hand."

Your shoulders dropped slightly. As in most situations, you had to trust your gut. And your gut said that you could trust him. So you held out your hand to shake his, introducing yourself. "How close is this town?"

"Jus' a few miles back down this road here 'n a few left turns." The stranger offered a hand to help you out of your car and you flinched at the sight of thick mud below you. "'m Lester, by the way. Lester Sinclair." He said, noticing your apprehension at the dirt. "Ain't one for mud?" He gave a light laugh.

"Not if I can help it," You sighed. It wouldn't normally bother you but you hadn't worn shoes you could afford to get dirty. The storm had caught you all by surprise.

Before you could step out, Lester gave you a nudge. "Here, put'cher arms 'round me."

You flushed and stared at him with wide, confused eyes. He just gave you a grin as he hooked your knees in the crook of his elbow. "I- You don't have to- I can-" You stammered out nervously. Sure, you didn't really want to get your shoes dirty, but Lester didn't have to carry you!

"Up we go!" Lester said with a dramatic flair, causing you to shriek in terror as you were lifted out up of your seat. You clung to him tight to avoid falling into the mud and he gave you a little spin, making you bury your face into his shoulder as you begged him not to drop you.

The coat he wore was rough and the necklace he wore dug slightly into your skin. But he felt warm and alive and you felt his laugh more then you actually heard it. It felt strangely magical and the mere thought of that baffled you. What about this situation was remotely magical?

"Hey, put 'em the fuck down!" Robbie said. You'd honestly forgot he was there for a moment. But he stepped towards you two like he intended to yank you from the other man's arms like a toddler wanting its toy back.

Lester shot him a look before glancing down at you, as though silently asking if Robbie was bothering you. Like Lester himself wasn't the stranger in the situation. "Alrighty then. Why don't you grab the girl so we can get on outta here?" He said before carrying you back towards his truck without looking back.

When you saw the truck, you understood why Robbie and Leon looked so anxious about going inside. You could see what looked to be small animal bones dangling like strings of beads woven together with feathers and rough strings. They all looked very homemade but pretty in their own way. At least to you they were.

What really caught your attention was the deer skull sitting on the dashboard as the pride of place. "You hunt?" You asked Lester as he walked around to the passenger side door.

He noticed you eyeing the deer skull and shrugged. "That depends."

"Depends?"

"Well I gotta impress you, don't I? Ain't every day I get to carry some pretty thing to my truck. Can't letcha think 'm a bad guy if I do hunt." He said casually before gesturing to the door handle. "Can you grab that?"

You opened the door and let him set you on the seat, his words not quite registering as you focused on the skull, fingers grazing it but not quite touching. "I think it's cool," You said with a quiet awe. "I like taxidermy, so bones don't put me off."

Lester seemed surprised by that. You could hear the sounds of Robbie and Sadie arguing again - likely because he wasn't offering to carry her like Lester had done for you - but you hardly cared with him looking at you like that. Like he was swooning.

"So y'ain't gonna be bothered by the roadkill I got in the back?" He asked, leaning against the car door as you admired the bones hung around the interior.

"Nope. Not even a little. Do you make these yourself?" You asked, fingers dancing lightly down a particularly pretty string of feathers and bones.

Lester swallowed and nodded, a little breathless when he spoke. "Yeah. Yeah. Make 'em myself, yeah." He sounded a little nervous, trying to hide his excitement at your genuine interest. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna get yer car set up for towin' 'n whatnot. You alright if I borrow your boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend." You shrugged before focusing back on him. "Much less Robbie. He's kind of a douchebag."

"You don't have a boyfriend?" Lester looked genuinely shocked.

You laughed a little. "You sound like my parents." Your tone was light, teasing, and a sharp contrast to the sudden hurricane that was Sadie climbing into the backseat of the truck, arguing loudly with Robbie. As suspected, he had not want to carry her and she had to walk.

You and Lester shared an exhausted look before he stepped away to get the cables to tow your car. Meanwhile, you tucked into the front seat, admiring every knickknack and oddity you could see. It felt almost cozy. Lester likely spent a lot of time in here to warrant such a comfortable, familiar space. He'd mentioned roadkill in the back of the truck so you figured he drove around for long hours picking it up.

He was utterly fascinating. You'd never met anyone like him.

"Dude, this guy is a freak," Sadie whisper-yelled to be heard over the rain as she slammed her door. You left the your own door open to enjoy the cool air a bit longer after being stuck in a stuffy car for the past four hours. "His car's full of dead things!" She hissed at you.

"Doesn't bother me." You said absently, far too focused on the skull again. It was in beautiful condition, clearly well taken care of. If Lester did really hunt, you hoped it was humane. But you reassured yourself that he didn't seem like someone who hated animals.

Sadie scoffed as she slumped in the backseat. The anger from her argument with Robbie was starting to leak into your conversation with her and it pissed you off. But you held your tongue, knowing better than to push her. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't mind your new weirdo boyfriend and his freaky shit." She laughed with a mocking tone. "Must be nice to meet some random fucking guy on the side of the road and he's soooo perfect and thoughtful and carries you to his car. Definitely matches your freak."

You ignored her.

It didn't take long for the guys to finish attaching your car to the truck and everyone piled in the truck, Lester closing his door with a dramatic flair and giving you a smile. "Alrighty, lets head on back. Town's just a couple minutes away." He said, making sure to take wide turns to avoid scratching up the car too much.

"Is there a hotel in town there?" Sadie asked, fidgeting with a strand of her wet hair.

"Yeah, should be. The inn ain't get much business this far out here so there oughta be rooms." Lester said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Where ya folks headed?"

When the three in the back said nothing, you spoke up after an awkward beat of silence. Just because your friends didn't like the dead things didn't mean Lester was a bad guy. "Headin' towards Arkansas. We've got a little cabin there that we want to stay at for a few days."

"Special occasion?" Lester asked curiously.

"Just a double date weekend." Sadie chimed in, smirking a bit in Leon and Robbie's direction. "We've been meaning to take a break together.

You flinched at the implication you were dating Leon. Lester seemed to notice that and gave you a reassuring smile. "Sounds fun." He said aloud, though you could see the way his hands gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Robbie, was it?"

"Yeah?"

"How long've you been dating 'em?" He tilted his head towards you, smiling at Robbie in the rearview mirror. "Hope I didn't give ya the wrong impression when I carried 'em over. I know you got defensive 'bout it 'n all."

The backseat erupted into absolute chaos. You turned to level Lester with an unimpressed look and the man had the audacity to give you an innocent little smile.

Jerk. You snorted, rolled your eyes, and turned your head to look out the window, watching the raindrops fall on the slightly fogged glass and the brush of the forest passing by in blurs of murky greens and browns.

Ambrose wasn't far, true to Lester's word. The town was small, only a few dozen houses and no major chain stores, much to Sadie's disappointment. Just little mom and pop type places. Lester towed your car to the nearby gas station outside the auto shop and you became suddenly aware of how empty the town felt. No one was outside but you didn't think it was because of the rain.

Your friends got out of the truck, eager to get away from the bones and the smell of rot, but you stayed in with Lester for a minute. "Where is everyone?"

"Hm?" Lester asked, looking innocently curious. "Whaddya mean?"

When he didn't say anything else, you just sighed. "Nevermind," you mumbled as you reached for the door.

"Wait." He said, his voice low. You turned to look at him and he seemed... guilty? He chewed nervously on his bottom lip before making a gesture to the glove box. "Open it."

So you did. Laying atop some piles of paper was a simple, silver pocketknife. "What the-?"

"In case." Lester said, pulling it out and handing it to you expectantly.

"In case of what?" You frowned as alarm bells began to ring in your head. "What do you mean?

Lester's eyes darted quickly over your shoulder before he looked back at you. You didn't get the chance to look over your shoulder when he reached up, cupping your face with one hand to keep your eyes on him. "I ain't- I ain't s'pposed to do this. Y'can't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" Your fear must have been obvious at this point, seeing as Lester flinched.

"Look," he sighed, taking your hand and squeezing it in his own. "I can't- I wanna tell ya, believe me. But I ain't s'pposed to 'n it kills me." He looked genuinely sorry for whatever it was he was doing, which only scared you more. "But if ya take it, you'll be-"

A loud knock on the window made you scream, scooting away from the door with a look of terror, not even care that you practically slammed into Lester's chest as you threw yourself across the center console. Staring at you from the window was a man dressed in a mechanic jumpsuit with a baseball cap on. He opened the door without prompting and gave you a smile that made you feel greasy just looking at him. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." The stranger said with a warm tone. "'m name's Bo. I work at the autoshop here."

You introduced yourself cautiously, glancing out the windshield and noticing the way Sadie practically swooned over Bo while Robbie and Leon looked ready to punch the daylights out of this guy.

You didn't trust him. Not one bit.

"Pretty sure that's my brother you're sittin' on." Bo said with another acidic smile.

"Oh." You said, still pressed against Lester's side with no real interest in moving. The pocketknife was still clenched tightly in your fist and you still didn't feel safe.

Lester just laughed. "Aw, it ain't no problem Bo. We were chattin' 'bout their car actually. Might need ya to check it out, just in case."

Bo hazarded a glance at your car. "Yeah, alright, I'll take a look. Wanna come with me?" He asked, offering you his hand.

Everything in your body screamed at you to stay away from this guy.

"Actually Bo," Lester spoke up, your saving grace, "I was plannin' on chattin' 'bout taxidermy with 'em. If ya don't mind."

Bo did, in fact, seem to mind. His perfect facade seemed to flicker, an annoyed look passing his over his face as quick as it came. "Lester, ain't it a better idea for them to be here with their car?"

"I trust you!" You nearly yelled, grabbing your car keys and stuffing them into Bo's extended hand. "You seem like you know what you're doing! Any questions and you can ask Robbie, he's better with cars than me anyways."

You felt Lester relax when Bo just sighed loudly. "Alright, if you insist," He clutched the keys in his fist and the look he gave you made chills run down your spine. "Enjoy your date, lil' bro."

"Thanks man!" Lester said as Bo slammed the door shut, rattling the whole car. "You alright?" He asked softly once his older brother had stormed off in the direction of your friends.

You scooted back slightly to give him some space, sliding back into your actual seat. "I know he's your brother but... he's so..."

He laughed. "Aggressive? Yeah, he can be. Ain't his fault but it does make bringin' people here tricky." Lester said before gesturing out the window towards your friends, watching Sadie hang off Bo's every word. "Seems to work on your friends jus' fine."

"Not me." You hummed, watching the four of them go inside the auto shop. "I usually have a good read on people. And he's, uh, not good."

"Is that so?" Lester said softly. "Well, y'sure as hell got a good radar then. Figured him out real quick."

You gave Lester a glance, noting the somber look on his face. "What do you mean by it being safer to bring the knife?"

The man chewed on his bottom lip, seeming to mull his options over in his head. "I can't tell ya," He said slowly, "Because then I'd have to kill ya." When you laughed nervously, he just gave you a serious look. "'m serious. I ain't s'pposed to tell strangers what's goin' on."

Cold dread seemed to drench you instantly. "What?" You whispered in horror.

"I can tell ya if you promise not to do anythin' though." He soothed, taking your hand in his. He kept glancing over your shoulder as though expecting Bo to reappear at any moment. "If ya wanna know, you can't get involved."

"Just tell me!" You pleaded, the pocketknife still tight in your fist.

Lester sighed, letting go of your hand and staring out the window, letting the muffled sounds of rain pass through you two as though trying to literally clean the air. When he looked up at you, his eyes once again darting over your shoulder. He let out a soft gasp of surprise and fumbled to turn his car back on, letting it spur to life as you turned to look.

Robbie stumbled out of the auto shop, covered in blood and screaming. He was beelining for you, his screams drowned out by the car engine and the storm. You went to unlock the door but you watched the locks engage. Robbie yanked on the door handle frantically, screaming something about Bo having killed Leon.

But you didn't even have time to react as Lester threw the car in reverse and took off, leaving you horrified and confused. You rounded on him immediately. "We need to help!"

"I can't get involved!" Lester said, looking as panicky as you. "I- I ain't a fan of what they do either but I-" He stammered, torn between focusing on the road and trying to placate you.

"Did Bo kill Leon?!" You gasped in horror.

Lester gave you a helpless look. "I- Maybe? I- I dunno, he's killed a lotta people at this point." He squinted, trying to navigate the rain that began to streak across the windshield with how fast he was driving, obscuring a lot of the vision outside. "He 'n Vinny've been doin' this for ages now!"

"Doing- Doing what?!" You felt frantic, yanking on the car door with no real luck. What would you even do if it opened? Where could you go?

"Killin' people!" Lester said, slamming his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. "They've been killin' people and I don't get involved. 'n if you value your life, you shouldn't either."

He slammed hard on the breaks just before the front of the car slammed into a tree. The two of you let out a shared sigh and slumped over.

"'m sorry sweetpea." Lester said quietly, leaning against his steering wheel as exhaustion seemed to set in. "Was followin' y'all. 's how I found ya. Was gonna ship ya off to Bo 'n Vince but you were so..." He lifted his head to look at you with soft, glassy eyes. "'m so sorry."

You trembled, still breathing heavy. "Are you going to hurt me?"

"No." Lester's answer was immediate. "I ain't a killer. Not like my brothers are." He looked like he wanted to reach for you again, remorse clear on his face. "'m really sorry. Honest. I-"

"Are my friends going to die?" You asked, your voice warbling slightly. "Did- Did you just drive away from my dying friends?" He turned his head to look at you and gave you a slow nod. You let out a quiet gasp, scooting away from him until your back was up against the door. "Let me out! I need to go help them!"

Lester shook his head helplessly. "I can't. Bo's already seen ya 'n if you go after him, he'll kill ya too."

"Then why give me a knife?!"

"I just-" Lester sighed. "I just didn't want you to go down easy. Ain't no one ever escape my brothers. They're brutal 'n dedicated. I... I didn't want you to get hurt."

A lapse of silence passed between you two, the only sound coming from the rain. Lester buried his face back into his arms while you tried to come to terms with what you'd learnt. Lester's brothers abducted and killed people. And Lester had just served your friends up to Bo on a silver platter, but not you.

You had a knife, still clenched in your fist, and you could probably get the jump on Lester if you had to. You could steal his car and go rescue them or, at the very least, escape.

But you didn't want to hurt Lester...

"Why didn't you let me go with them?" You finally asked with a resigned sigh.

Lester looked up with tired, sad eyes. "Didn't want em to have ya. 'Cus you're a good, kind person 'n you trusted me. Felt like I was betraying ya. So I saw an openin' and I took it."

You nodded slowly. "So what now?"

"Well, ya got a few choices actually." Lester said as he straightened up. "You could go back. Try your luck against my brothers, try 'n save your friends. Or," He said with a shy glance your way, "You could come with me."

"Where would we go?"

Lester motioned out the windshield. "I got a lil' house in the woods nearby. We could hold down till the storm passes." Big brown eyes focused on you as he nervously wrung his hands. "I'd, uh, have to introduce you to my brothers in the morning. But I'd protect ya. Let 'em know you're with me now."

You felt your face heat up and you hated yourself for it. Your friends were being killed and the guy who led them to their deaths was making you blush like a schoolchild with a crush. You couldn't help it though. Lester was sweet, in the short time you'd met him. He didn't want to see you hurt and did what he could to protect you.

"With you?" You teased him with a wet chuckle. And your smile grew when you saw the way the tips of Lester's ears burned with how hard he blushed.

He gave you a shy nod. "Y-yeah. If you're with me, then- then they won't bother ya. Not killable anymore." You reached over and took his hands gently, uncaring of the dirt and roughness there. "You couldn't leave though."

A sigh left your lips. "I either stay or die?"

Lester looked close to tears when he nodded. "'m really sorry, sweetpea, I really am. Should'a never gone after ya." He freed one of his hands to cup your face gently, his touch soft despite the roughness of his hands and the guilt in his eyes.

You two sat there for awhile before you nodded, swallowing back a sob of your own. "Okay," You sighed, "Okay, I'll go with you."

He gave you a look of utter relief, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll keep ya safe, sweetpea. I promise."

When you pulled him in for a hug, your face buried in his shoulder, you let your shoulders relax. And you let yourself believe him.

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - first interlude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the second part of a multi-chaptered Dottore fic, please read the prelude before reading this one. Your and Dottore's life continues to be told via a fairy tale crafted by the one and only Dendro Archon. Mostly fluff this chapter but the last two will not be so nice. Obligatory @kaixserzz mention and all my anons who inspired me to write this! (🎐 anon <3)

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“But one day, a miracle happened. The bird woke up from their eternal rest, utterly confused and lost.”

When you woke up, everything was hazy. Your eyes were open, but you couldn’t see anything. Rather, you could not process what you were seeing. It was a strange state. Everything felt fuzzy… but then the light from above glared suddenly right into your eyes, and you instinctively moved your hand to block the blinding light.

You were wide awake now, blinking your eyes and rubbing them. And though you had just woken up from a good nap, you quickly realized nothing made sense. Everything was eerily quiet, to the point where you could hear a pin drop. The grand and expensive room, the large plush bed. This wasn’t the hospital! And it looked absolutely nothing like the Akademiya either, not even the architecture! When you moved to stretch your arms, that’s when the biggest discovery finally hit you. 

Attached to your arms was an alarming amount of wires, hooked up to machines and whatnot.

Okay… now you had gone from mildly confused to kind of scared. You weren’t dead, right? Nope, pinching yourself still hurts. And- ouch, the random sharp pains you suddenly got in parts of your body were most definitely real. And these clothes, they weren’t yours, but they looked like something you’d wear. But… why were you like this? And more importantly, where was Zandik? You remember your beloved quite clearly… you were waiting for him to visit you again… hmm. And for some reason, you felt… a lot better than what you remembered? You felt super tired in that hospital, but now, you think you got a bit better. That was weird. But anyway, you had bigger issues. It was even weirder how you were no longer in that drab, busy hospital.

There was no other option than to go find Zandik and learn where you were. However, you had to get rid of these wires first. Without putting too much thought into it, you pulled one off your arm.

Horrible idea.

Before you could even blink, a loud alarm suddenly started blaring inside the room, scaring the shit out of you. What the hell? As any frenzied person would do, you began to pull off even more wires from your arm rapidly before finally all of them were off. The alarm merely kept going off which was obviously quite disturbing to you. Were people going to burst through the door at any moment and incapacitate you again? Wait, were you kidnapped? Oh, you just wanted Zandik to be with you right now, you thought as you pulled the heavy blankets off your body. Surely he’d know what to do. And then the door to the room slammed open, immediately beckoning your attention as you snapped your neck to see who it was. 

And lo and behold, it was Zandik. 

Your Zandik, draped in the Akademiya’s robes. Those red eyes and blue hair that you loved. Suddenly you could forget about your current abnormal situation and block out the noise, solely focused on your heart positively soaring as you gazed upon your love. 

But you quickly realized that he did not share the same expression. Not in the slightest. Rather, Zandik was looking at you with surprise, shock, astonishment, whatever you wanted to call it. It made you feel wholly uneasy. Why was your love looking at you as if you were from another universe? Like you had come back from the dead? Before you could question him, another person barreled in through the door. Another mop of blue hair. Another pair of red eyes. Another Zandik. 

Your heart stopped for a moment. 

Who were these people, and what have they done with your Zandik?

It only got worse when yet another Zandik look-alive entered. Only this time he was wearing bloodied clothing and gloves. You were too shocked to scream, and now all the other blue-haired people were panicking at your fearful expression and began fighting amongst themselves.

“Why would you come in looking like that?!”

“How was I supposed to know they had woken up?! It’s been centuries, I thought a wire detached by accident or something!” The one with the bloody coat and pink bow tie snapped back. The bickering continued but that was the least of your worries right now. You glanced around the room, trying to see if there was another escape route.

The windows. Yes, they would have to work. You didn’t know what floor you were on, but you’d have to take a gamble. You inched towards the end of the bed and swung your legs off the edge, hoping to bolt to it quickly. You placed one foot on the ground, putting all your force into it to sprint and-

Instead, your legs buckled and you fell pathetically to the floor, squeaking in a mixture of pain and surprise. You tried to heave yourself up with your arms, but your legs felt too weak. It was as if your legs wouldn’t, or perhaps couldn’t listen to your demands. You wiggled them around a bit, but it seemed as if they didn’t have enough strength to stand up on their own. You didn’t understand. Even though you were quite sick before, you could still walk a bit. This, however, was an unfamiliar sensation that filled you with dread. And now the Zandik clones’ attention was back on you.

“Oh fuck,” one of them mumbled, running his hands through his hair. You gulped, but they seemed reluctant to come near you judging from their nervous expressions. Well, you were going to take advantage of that, so you continued crawling toward the window. “Go get Prime. Now,” he hissed. A clone rushed out of the room but that was the least of your concerns. It was slightly humiliating to be watched as you crawled, but you persevered anyway. Thankfully, there was a table near the window, so you could use it to pull yourself up without using your legs too much. How were you going to escape with virtually no legs? Well, that was future [Name]’s problem. 

The clones, on the other hand, seemed incredibly antsy about your hand on the curtain, ready to pull it away. It seemed as if they were trying to speak but didn’t know how. But without any more delay, you yanked the curtain to the side to reveal…

A completely white background. Snow that certainly was more than knee deep, that clung to the windows and weighed the trees down. You had never seen anything like it before. The mere sight of it made you dizzy and a nauseating feeling came over you as you stumbled back and landed on the floor again. Wherever you were, it was not Sumeru. And even if you could escape, you would certainly freeze to death in a few seconds. The reality of the situation made your skin crawl and overheat. You looked back at the fake Zandiks and noticed they were a bit closer than before. Your rapidly beating heart was not a good combination for the major headache that was beginning to grow. 

“Don’t… don’t come near me,” your lightheadedness made the words come out more of a mumble than a command, your throat now dry and clogged. Not being able to defend yourself was a horrible feeling. Through your blurry eyes, you think the clones felt sorry for you… which really made you feel worse, to be honest, actually to the point of feeling like you were going to pass out from all of this stress and pain.

… And you did pass out. But not before a pair of hands caught you before your head hit the floor.

—

“Meanwhile, the raven could not contain his excitement. Finally, after four hundred years spent alone, his beloved was back. Despite all of the power and knowledge he basked in, he was admittedly… lonely without them. If the raven had never met them, he would have been fine. But the sparrow had relentlessly pecked a hole into his formerly impenetrable heart, one that they vowed to fill for eternity as an apology. But… they were not here to fill it for so long, creating an indescribable void in him.”

When one of his segments burst into his office without even knocking, Dottore was initially irritated. He did not like to be disturbed, especially in the middle of his own personal research. But 02 only had to say one word for his attitude to flip dramatically. Your name. He didn’t even wait for the clone to finish his sentence before he quickly made his way to your room, multiple possibilities running through his mind as to what could have happened. Surely it wasn’t possible for your condition to get even worse, right? He gritted his teeth and increased his pace until he saw the crowd at the door of your room. He didn’t bother questioning any of them as he stepped into the room, expecting to see your body still lying on the bed. But it was empty… because you were awake, wide-eyed, and a bit terrified, but awake nonetheless.

Even the wise doctor couldn’t help but be frozen in shock. Four hundred years of emptiness, of silence, of nothingness. A stagnant eternity had passed in front of his eyes. You had remained ever so still for so long, but now you finally were moving and speaking in front of him.

Would he call this a miracle? No, he would not because the scientist did not believe in miracles. He didn’t believe in anything that the Gods supposedly granted. He knew you would wake up, it was just a matter of when, and however long that was, he would wait. Contrary to what many people thought, Dottore could be a patient man. Perhaps it was because all of the people in the Fatui were witnesses to his short fuses and a low tolerance for inability, but he could be extremely patient with the proper circumstances. Now, all his waiting had finally paid off, Dottore thought as he caught you in his arms. Indeed… everything had finally paid off.

Dottore wondered how you would react when you woke up again. How much would you remember? Would you recognize him? He already had a multitude of notes and plans written for when you woke up, but it would depend all on you. You, you, you… yes, he would go to astonishingly and morally dubious lengths just for you.

—

“The butterfly had come to realize that their beloved raven had changed while they were sleeping. The raven had draped himself in fox fur, no longer the same from hundreds of years ago. The butterfly was not too bothered, as they were changed too, but they could not help but feel that they were left behind.”

When you woke up once again, the ceiling looked different and the bed you were in was much more plain and stiff than the previous one, as if no one used it. Though the out-of-place blanket and pillows looked as if someone threw them in out of consideration for you. You raised your hand to your temple and gently rubbed it. Somehow, your oncoming headache was gone, which was good. You began to observe the room. This one was a stark difference from the other one. It was mostly plain and boring, and much smaller. It literally only had this bed and a desk which was crowded with piles upon piles of paperwork, and you could faintly make out the writing. It was hard to read and bore a resemblance to… Zandik. Instantly your curiosity was piqued.

You don’t know what happened during the time you fainted, but somehow your legs seem to have gotten a bit stronger. In fact, there seemed to be a new bandage on your leg. Did someone inject you with something while you were sleeping…? You swallowed the unease before you hobbled over and quickly took a seat on the chair, eyes sweeping over the multitude of papers. You began reading the one on top.

“Experiment 23 has failed me once again with their utter uselessness. No matter how many times I modify the drug, their body keeps rejecting it leaving me only with a mess to clean up. What a pathetic waste of my time.” Alright, that was… something. You pushed that one to the side and began reading through more, but they were mainly the same gist. “Subject 14 died today. I must tell one of the segments to take care of it. Perhaps we can still get some use out of the body… A test subject attempted escape today. That was the first one in a while, but it was handled quickly.” More experimentation on different subjects, all labeled with a different number. It was no doubt horrifying but… oddly interesting to you. But one thing that stuck out to you was the name signed at the bottom.

Il Dottore. Il Dottore? What kind of name was that? You kept flipping through the papers, many falling to the floor when you noticed the desk also had some drawers. Pulling them open, there were a few notebooks inside. But that’s not what bothered you. It was the fact that each of them had one word on the cover.

Your name.

This day could not get any creepier. The theory of you getting kidnapped by some crazy person was starting to seem a lot more plausible. Though you hesitated at first, you just had to know what was inside, picking up the notebook on top. You flipped open to the first page. It had nothing but the same few words repeated over and over, divided by lines as the day changed. “No changes in [Name]’s condition.” Alright then… strange. Your eyes flicked over to the date written at the corner of the entry. Month, day, year, yes…

Wait. That year. Your eyes nearly popped out when you looked at it, for it simply could not be true. Because it was… extremely far into the future. A horrible feeling sank into you as you began rapidly turning the pages. Maybe it was just a mistake, you begged no one but yourself, but it was the same over and over again. And that’s when you got to the page that made you dizzy. “Today marks four hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” The sheer shock of that sentence could have made you faint again. 

Gulping, you grabbed the next notebook in the pile. The dates of these were before those of the first one. Yet again, one of the pages stated, “Today marks three hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” And then the next notebook said, “Today marks two hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” The last journal in the pile ended with, “Today marks one hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.”

In that one, the first page started with, “Today marks the first day since [Name] fell asleep.” The date on this page was very familiar to you. It was the year when you got sick. Trying to calm your unsteady breaths, you read the writing.

“I would have never thought things would have turned out like this. This possibility is one that I never thought of. That was completely foolish of me. I should have been more practical, more realistic. If I had planned for and acknowledged the possibility, perhaps I would have been able to prevent it. But it is too late now. I will write here every day to keep track of [Name]’s condition. If all goes accordingly, they will wake up in due time.”

You placed down the book and put your face in your hands, contemplating what you just read. So… if you were understanding this correctly… you’ve been stuck in a coma for over four hundred years, only now waking up. And this person, it had to be Zandik. He was the only one who would do all of this for you. But that didn’t explain why there were multiple copies of him running around… Oh… but the fact you were asleep for four hundred years… was that even possible? Was this real? A wave of fatigue at this information rolled through you again.

Not only did you miss over four hundred years of life… that meant you weren’t exactly human, were you? Or perhaps you were and you simply had your lifespan increased? So, so many questions. What happened to Zandik during this time? What happened to you? Were you even okay? How had your body survived such a thing? You felt like crying. How could this happen to you… you were about to actually start weeping when the door opened, giving you a start.

Another Zandik - or perhaps this was Il Dottore - stood at the entrance, hand frozen on the doorknob as he looked straight at you. You instinctively backed into the chair. You couldn’t help but still be uneasy after everything you just went through.

“[Name],” your name spilled out of his lips almost unconsciously, his face still expressionless, but that quickly changed as he broke out into a large, pointy smile. “[Name],” he said again, though much louder this time before locking the door behind him. “[Name]... you’re truly awake.” The way he reveled in your name seemed almost mad and obsessed. The man then noticed the disarray of his desk and grinned even further, striding up to you.

“Ah, ever the inquisitive one, are you? Seems like your curiosity has not changed. And you can still read my notes… good, good. Better than what I expected.” Zandik’s(?) voice only grew more delighted. You remained silent, to which he looked slightly disappointed, but he seemed to have expected this reaction as well. He bent down on one knee, placing one hand on his chest while the other intertwined with your own hand. He didn’t externally show how he felt when he did so, the sheer excitement he felt when your hand was no longer deathly cold, instead some warmth running through it now.

“Do not look like that, [Name]. You know who I am, do you not?” The scholar looked up at you expectantly, the pleased smile never leaving his lips. His touch, though it was through gloves, was so familiar. The voice, that was deeper than how you remembered it, made you feel a certain way. Your free hand reached out to his face, fingers tracing the mask he wore. Slowly, you began to remove it to see if he would object, but he did not even flinch. When you looked at his uncovered face, you just knew deep down it was Zandik. It was your Zandik who belonged to you. Though his face now had scars, it was him. Your beloved. You brushed your fingers against the scarred skin, and this time he nuzzled into your touch as if you were some kind of divine being.

“Zandik… Oh Zandik,” you murmured, staring right into his brilliant red eyes. “It’s you, isn’t it?” Zandik moved your hands closer to his lips, before biting down on your fingers with those sharp teeth of his.

“Indeed I am, dearest, but these days they tend to call me The Doctor.”

After that, you wouldn’t let go of Zandik, or rather, Dottore, as he came to explain. He answered your barrage of questions, one by one, which only blew your mind each time. After you fell into a coma, he was recruited by the Fatui. With their funding and support, he was able to keep you stable and also advance his own research, even reaching the high position of the Second Harbinger. Il Dottore, The Doctor to be exact. And those other people you saw, those were his segments. Segments from different periods of his life that he made… You were stunned by those accomplishments.

For hundreds of years, this went on as you remained stagnant… until now. Now, everything had changed, and Dottore was entirely fascinated with you. He ran countless tests, poked and prodded at all parts of your body, all while dumping so many things on you rapidly and excitedly. A recollection of all the things that had happened during your slumber. There were a good amount of words that you didn’t understand too… the language of Teyvat had surely changed a lot. It was quite reminiscent of the old days when he would keep you awake in the dorm with his rambling, but this felt oddly… different.

Dottore was a completely different person from the Zandik you knew. Though the old Zandik wasn’t a good person, Dottore was… different. Very different. There was no boundary he wouldn’t cross for his research, ignoring the laws of Teyvat and life itself. And he was wearing a fucking harness too… but… he did look quite attractive in it so… it was an upgrade for you. Though what really happened while you were asleep? He was different, so so different - powerful and intelligent enough to rival even the Gods, among numerous other feats. It felt like he was a completely different person.

Meanwhile, you felt as though you were stuck as that useless, weak student whose purpose was dwindling by the day. And that wasn’t really a lie to be honest, as you soon learned you still were quite ill. You had only woken up from a coma. You weren’t cured. Your body was still frail and fragile, needing medicine and lots of rest otherwise there would be consequences. And your legs, they were able to get a little bit better from the shot Dottore gave you that worked since you were no longer unconscious, but you still wobbled a lot. You still had a lot of pains in general from this mysterious illness as well. So all in all… conscious and alive, but not very well. But, you were still grateful. You had over four hundred years worth of life you missed out on… you wanted to catch up desperately.

Of course, there was also the number one desire to spend countless hours with Dottore now. And you had to get used to his new personality… No longer was he the snarky, snappy, and irritable boy you once knew. Now he was effortlessly cunning and charming, so above others as their opinions could not mean anything to one akin to a God. And while he had always been possessive, Dottore seemed to ramp it up out of nowhere. In a way, you understood, because if you had to be consciously separated from Dottore for that amount of time, you would have gone crazy a long time ago. 

You were possessive too, but Dottore somehow was much more comfortable with physical and verbal affection than his old self from over four hundred years ago. You remember you’d have to beg and plead to merely sit on his lap before, but on the first day you awoke, he hoisted you there and refused to let you leave. He nipped at your ear and sensitive spots teasingly with no hint of embarrassment, all within a few hours after you woke up as if he couldn’t wait another moment. His hands were so big and they seemed to know every part of your body, he seemed to know exactly what to say to push your buttons now, all so different from when the positions were reversed a while ago… Of course, you still knew him quite well too, but still, you felt as though maybe he was partially a stranger now… Only time would tell you how much he had changed. You just hoped you were still good enough for him.

—

“Over time, the raven had divided himself into numerous others, each with a unique personality. The butterfly was initially scared by these new creatures, but eventually, they warmed up to the new ravens.”

It had been only a few weeks since you’d woken up, and although Dottore presented you with your own grand room in the lab, you hadn’t touched it much. Who could blame you? You were still jittery and nervous about all the new things in this world, and how to adapt to your new life. So he had gotten used to you crashing on his bed now every day. No, he wasn’t upset in the slightest. After all, he still had a lot to talk to you about. It would probably take a few centuries to tell you every little thing that happened during the last few centuries.

Dottore had shown you so many new wonders of Teyvat, things that could have never existed centuries ago, in all subjects and areas. It made you feel a bit scared and almost disheartened to know the world changed so much in your absence. But… there were some people in the lab to help you.

Dottore’s segments. 

You had learned that the numbers went up to 24, but there weren’t actually 24 segments. They were numbered in the order of creation, and not all of Zandik’s created segments were successes so it jumped around at times. For example, there were no 11, 12, 17, and so on. Even with all of Dottore’s expertise in making clones, he didn’t guarantee success. And yes… their names were merely numbers.

Although the segments hadn’t hurt you in any way, you were still a bit… scared. Hearing that your lover now had copies of himself running about was one thing. Accepting it was another thing, and you tried to cling to your Zandik as much as possible. But the clones were always scattered throughout the laboratory, so you usually ended up bumping into them. Or perhaps they were following you on Dottore’s orders. He probably thought it wasn’t safe for you ever to be alone, especially right now. But you were trying your best to warm up to them, because, after all, they were still Zandik, no? Their love for you stemmed from Zandik’s overwhelming love for you. They were really a testament to how much you were cherished. And so, they were obviously worthy of your love and attention. 

01 was the spitting image of Zandik when he was in the Akademiya. The last person you’d seen before you fell into a long sleep. Every time you looked at him, your heart hurt a little bit. He still had that snark you remembered so well, especially towards other people. And he still had that subtle softness afforded only to you, that you also remembered.

The bloody one who gave you a fright was 02. He had a pink bow tie and also donned a suit. You honestly weren’t sure what kind of phase Zandik went through during that stage of life to dress and act so drastically differently compared to his other clothes but it was… cute. You liked 02. He was a stark difference from the composed nature of the other clones, but you liked his laugh. Whenever you responded favorably to one of his long tangents, he sometimes hee-hee-ho-ho-ed loudly. 02 was also the most likely to bite you unprompted.

You had yet to meet 10, which was surprising because all the other segments were jumping at the opportunity to merely be in the same room as you. All Dottore had said was that he “needed some time” before he decided to speak to you. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you didn’t question it further. There were other segments as well, like 04. He was a serious and stern segment. The others were especially cautious around him. You were too, seeing his demeanor, but thankfully, he seemed to cool down around you. And 18 had a noticeably softer tone than the other segments and longer hair that embroidered his face nicely. He was also the one who seemed to smile a lot. This segment would always wave hi to you as well, funnily enough.

Meanwhile, 24 seemed to be the strongest of the segments and the highest-ranking one. The others didn’t seem to like him very much, but in the end, they always had to listen to him. He also seemed to be the boldest, and the most greedy. You distinctly remember your first meeting with him. It was something alright.

24 had raised your hand to his lips and kissed it, the smile on his face never leaving. “I have been waiting a long time to finally meet you, [Name].” Your words almost got stuck in your throat from the blatant display of affection. None of the other clones were ever so daring, instead settling with awkward conversation and fleeting glances of longingness at you. 

“Oh… well, it’s nice to meet you…?” You waited for his name.

“Twenty-Four.”

“Ah. Nice to meet you then, Twenty-Four.”

“No, the pleasure is all mine,” he hummed before releasing your hand. “If you ever need something, by all means, feel free to tell me. I shall see it done, far more efficiently than anyone else.” You ignored the subtle remark thrown at his other fellow segments.

“Thanks, Twenty-Four,” you smiled slightly, not sure what else to say after that.

“Of course. I do look forward to our further conversations, [Name]. I imagine they will be quite enlightening,” his deep voice chuckled as he walked away. Well… that was certainly something. You swallowed your throat that had gone dry, still feeling a bit fuzzy from that kiss. His lips felt soft against your hand.

Well, regardless of how you felt about the segments, you had to warm up quickly as they were starting to be with you for almost every task. Though Dottore had solely administered your medicine at first, you learned that his Fatui work kept him far more busy than you anticipated… he really was different now, huh? No longer the student you could bother all day. 

So instead, the clones had begun to share the responsibility of taking care of you, whether that be medicine, shots, check-ups, general tasks, or anything really. Nothing was off the table, considering how much you still struggled sometimes. You felt awkward at first, asking them for help, seeing as you felt embarrassed asking people who you didn’t know well, but they always seemed pleased to do it. Especially if you asked them specifically rather than another clone. So it would only be fair if you returned the energy to them.

You began with conversation. They reciprocated. You moved on to small touches. They liked that. You decided to give them each a kiss on the cheek. You probably should have thought some more about how that would affect them because there was no going back after that. Once you had shown so much interest, there was no way they weren’t going to take you up on your offer. Let’s just say it never ends with just one kiss. It ends with too much to count. So… nowadays it wasn’t unusual to find yourself on the operating table after a check-up, a segment on each side of you fighting over your attention. Perhaps one arm wrapped around your waist and another resting on your thigh… yes, very normal.

However, dealing with your health concerns wasn’t the only purpose of your beloved segments. They also had to teach you other things. 01 was on academics, as you would assume, him being the Akademiya clone and all. Well, it was less academics and more like relearning how to write properly and Teyvat’s new language. It was really hard, to be honest, to have your brain try and keep up with the sudden onslaught of new information, and for you to steady your hand from shaking so much, but surprisingly enough, 01 didn’t lose patience as quickly as you thought he would. You thought he would, considering how snappy you remember Zandik being in the Akademiya. 01 noticed your curious stare.

“What?”

“Nothing… I was just wondering why you haven’t said anything remotely snarky yet,” you hummed, leaning into the segment with squinted eyes. He rolled his eyes.

“You act as though you want me to yell.”

“Well…” you giggled at his incredulous expression before quickly retracting your statement. It was fun to tease him. And you already had a suspicion as to why he was so patient with you. That was… nice of him.

And 02… well, you weren’t exactly sure what 02 was supposed to be teaching you. He would just… talk a lot, about many different things, pace around the room as he did so, long coat fluttering after him, periodically fixing his bow tie. At the very least, he was quite knowledgeable and had experience journeying in other nations. Yes, that was what intrigued you the most out of all his rants. Especially when he spoke of his exploits in Mondstadt.

“You’re saying… you slayed a dragon? Like, killed it? It’s dead? All by yourself?”

“Indeed, I did. Though it’s a shame that-” Before 02 could finish his sentence, you could not help but jump up and clasp his hands in yours, beaming with excitement. Because really, how could you not be ecstatic at something like that? If one of Dottore’s clones could use such strength easily, it only further boggled your mind as to how strong Prime was.

“That is so, so, so amazing! I had no idea you were so strong!” Your eagerness to hear more was easily noticeable in your tone of voice. 02’s expression went blank for a few seconds, seemingly processing the sudden physical contact and how close you were to him, along with your words, before erupting into loud laughter, his very pointed teeth gleaming in the light. It suddenly occurred to the segment that this would be a perfect opportunity to unabashedly display his brilliance to you.

“Hahaha, if that story pleases you so, then you’ll be far more interested in what I have to say next. That was nothing really, hehe,” 02’s razor-sharp grin did not leave his face, nor did his hands release yours. Let’s just say 02 has a lot of tales to tell. Some were… not for the faint of heart, but you still loved them!

Though, all of the segments’ general duty was to help you regain what you’ve lost. Even the simplest things were not easy anymore. You had to come to terms that your stamina wasn’t the same. Yes, you even had to practice learning how to eat and cut up your food again. Your tongue had to adjust to the flavors of cuisine all over again. Deal with the suddenness of feeling very cold to suddenly hot. Shaking fingers and hands. You had to understand that you had stricter limits now, no longer being able to run or do certain tasks that would overexert yourself. Or sometimes you simply didn’t have the mental energy. Bathing, changing clothes, brushing your hair. Resolving yourself to get out of bed when you knew nothing you could do would amount to anything special. But… the segments helped you with everything. Every morning. Every night. And you were thankful for that.

So, all in all, your relationship with the clones was going pretty great! It's not like it couldn’t, considering how much they all adored you, to be honest. Yet, you still had not met the segment named 10. At first, it didn’t really cross your mind, but the more time you spent with the clones, the more you pondered about who the mysterious segment could be. When you asked 01, you were met with a scoff and eye roll. Hmm… guess they weren’t really a fan of him. However, your curiosities would be remedied soon enough, for there was a quiet knock on your room door a while later. 

It was so quiet as if the person was unsure about whether they wanted to knock or not. Was it one of the segments, trying to slack off work again to talk to you? You quickly opened the door and were met with… nobody. You furrowed your eyebrows before a timid voice sounded from below. 

You tilted your head down and there he was, a young child with blue hair and red eyes… that was startlingly similar to some people you knew… Then, everything seemed to click, and you instinctively knew who this mysterious child could be. It was 10. The one segment you hadn’t seen yet, the one Dottore told you not to worry about. Well, he was here now, but… that meant 10 was a clone of Zandik from when he was a child.

You were, quite frankly, shocked, because never did it cross your mind that Dottore would ever clone his child self. You couldn’t think of exactly what purpose that would serve, considering how the kid couldn’t do the same tasks his adult versions could. His perspective, perhaps? But you knew what happened to Dottore during his childhood. You clearly remember the night in the Akademiya when you told you. He didn’t want your pity, your sympathy, he spat. Despite his protests and attempts to push you away, his words were smothered when you held him close to your chest that night.

But nevertheless, it was time to put those feelings away for you must put your attention on the child in front of you, who was now fiddling with his clothes and fingers in silence. His eyes flicked back to you and the ground, his mouth opening to speak but closing it again before any words could escape, so you spoke first, crouching down to his height.

“Hello, little one. You must be Ten, am I right?” The boy perked up at the mention of his name.

“You know me?”

“Of course I do,” you smiled. “I’ve been eagerly waiting to meet you.” Those few words made 10’s face light up. It seemed like he enjoyed attention. But he still looked nervous. Based on what you knew, you guessed that he’d been hurt by adults and people in general far too much than he should have been, so he was wary about you for a while despite Dottore’s and the older segments’ adoration for you. Of course, you wanted to help him feel safe and reassured around you. And that would only happen by spending time with him.

“Would you like to come in? I have snacks we can share!” You gestured to the inside of your room, and the child looked intrigued, but still on the verge of indecision. “... And I can also read cool stories for you!” That was something kids liked, right? Well, it looked like you guessed right because 10’s whole expression changed as he nodded and suddenly invited himself into your room. It seemed like 10 wanted to trust you badly… and trust you he did.

10 was absolutely precious, more than words could describe. During the first few days, he was quiet, preferring to listen to you read the books he brought you. Sometimes you caught him looking at you, perhaps studying you. But once you continuously showed him kindness and love, the child transformed into a brand new person. He was glued to your side, and all the segments knew about it too. 10 always wanted to be near you. 10 liked the other segments, he really did, but you were the only one who was so nice to him. Ruffling his hair whenever he learned something new. Always indulging his silly little requests, drawing and coloring with him. Showing you his favorite hiding places around the lab. You were sad you couldn’t carry little 10 in your arms, but holding his hand as you two walked together was more than enough.

There was just something about 10 that was so endearing, that felt like he was healing your soul, even just a little bit. He was also extremely openly worried about you, scared that you would get winded over the simplest things. Which was a valid concern, but you reassured him you were stronger than it. It was quite sweet to see him run in front of you to open the doors for you like a gentleman, however. You also learned not to underestimate him, because 10 could truly give some of the most crushing hugs ever. In a loving way, of course. If only you didn’t need the ability to breathe, you’d let him hug you like that whenever. In other words, 10 was your baby.

But, in a way, it was strange to know that Dottore was once a child as simple as they come, although with his own eccentricities and curiosities. A child who did child things before he was deemed a monster. A child who just wanted to be held and reassured.

Regardless, lately, you've been thinking about something. Thinking about the segments’ names, to be exact. You really did love them, and so now you were starting to have an issue with calling them random numbers. They were clones, but they were still people to you… their identity was more than a number! Especially 10. You really did not want to refer to the sweet child as 10.

This had been resting on your mind for a few days and the segments noticed your contemplative expression. It was one of those days where you would just sit in the lab and watch them as they scurried about, doing their duties. It was interesting to watch. But you were caught in a daze more than normal when a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Do tell me [Name], you seem to be in deep thought lately. What plagues your mind so?” It was 24, his deep voice resonating in your ears. It was then you realized all the other segments’ attention was on you too. Oops. Perhaps you were daydreaming too much.

“Oh… it’s nothing really,” you wondered if they would think your idea was stupid. After all, they didn’t seem to really care about being called a number.

“Nonsense,” 24 shook his head. “Speak your mind.” Well, here you go.

“How do you all feel about your name?” You asked, addressing the other segments as well. “About being called a number, I mean.” The segments looked at you a little strangely.

“I don’t really care,” one of them spoke.

“I care,” another huffed. “Why does Prime get to be called Prime while we’re nameless?”

“That’s a stupid question. It’s because he’s the creator, and we’re merely the segments.”

“It is annoying when someone mixes up our numbers and then something gets messed up with the operations. But nothing major.”

“Why do you ask, [Name]?”

“Well… I was thinking of not calling you guys numbers anymore. I just don’t like how it sounds, considering how much I know you all now, you know? I was just wondering if maybe I could give you all real names instead. But if everyone likes it the way it is now then that’s fine too.” When you finished speaking, the lab was uncharacteristically silent.

“Um… hello?” You chuckled awkwardly as you looked around to find the clones with blank looks on their faces before they all started speaking the same thing at once.

“I want the name.”

“I would like one as well.”

“Me too, dear [Name].”

“To think you would be the one to bestow me with a proper name. How fitting,” 24 smirked. Shit, even he was on board with this.

“Huh? Didn’t you all just say you didn’t care too much about it??” You could have laughed at the dramatic switch-up.

“I’ve changed my mind. Being called a number is actually quite a hindrance.” (That was mostly a lie, this segment didn’t want to admit he just wanted to own something that was given by you, and what bigger honor could be given by a name?)

“Indeed, having a real name would surely be beneficial for many reasons.” (The many reasons being that he could be happy that you gave him a new part of his identity.)

And now, all of a sudden, you had many pairs of eyes directed towards you, waiting expectantly, and you felt extremely unprepared now. What would you name them? For one, you really weren’t that good at names. And you didn’t want to name them something weird either. They were Dottore’s segments after all. It had to fit them… Think, [Name], think… think of something good right now or else you’ll disappoint these poor segments who look so pleased over a name. You then remembered a book you had skimmed through while practicing with 01, that held the letters of a certain alphabet. And suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into your head.

“I’ve got it!” You jumped up and exclaimed to the room. And then, with glee, you swung your hand and pointed it to 01. “From now on, you are no longer 01. You are Alpha.” Alpha blinked at your declaration. 

Then, you moved onto 02. “You, my dear, are Beta. And you,” your finger moving to every clone in the room. “you’re Gamma. Delta. Epsilon. Zeta.” The more you went on, the more they predicted what their name would be. “Eta. Theta. Iota. Sigma. Phi. And lastly, Omega.” You grinned pretty widely after that. That was pretty smart of you, wasn’t it?

“I see… using the letters of that alphabet also corresponds with the numbers that we were given… hehe, how clever,” Beta grinned to himself, enjoying the first few seconds of being Beta.

“And they are short and easy to remember,” Omega hummed. “Good, very good indeed, [Name].” Omega’s hands brushed your cheek, always the possessive one, while the other segments looked on in jealously. You cleared your throat.

“A-Anyways, make sure to tell everyone your new names!” And soon enough, everyone in the lab was aware of the replacement. Even Dottore, as you had made sure to tell him right after. Initially, he thought you were joking, but nope, you were one hundred percent serious. Alright then, he’d let you have your fun. He didn’t know you were this bored, to be honest. 

But it wasn’t until previously named 24 corrected him with only the word “Omega” when he referred to the segment as a number that he realized that you really did change all of their names. Well, Dottore didn’t care too much for names or numbers regarding them, it was all the same anyway, but he’s been letting you spend too much time with the clones… he’ll have to force you to sit on his lap for a while when he’s stuck doing paperwork. He’s the only one who should be the center of your attention.

There was still one last segment you had to name - your dearest 10. You were most excited to name the little boy, having wanted him to have a name to call his own the most. But, there was something that didn’t feel right. Sure, you could just give him another letter of the alphabet but 10’s one had to be… different. The child just had that much of a special place in your heart. And so you pondered and pondered until you came to a decision.

Zandy was the one who would quite literally run behind you and cling to your leg whenever another segment was near. Zandy was the one who would sit in your lap and ask you to read and explain big words to him. Zandy was the one who wouldn’t let go when he softly spoke about the nightmare he had with his hometown.

He was Zandy.

—

“Although the flightless butterfly found great company and love in Dottore and his segments, they still longed for the companionship of others. Thankfully, they managed to make a few friends - a friendly orange fox, a lovely white dove, and a sly snow leopard.”

There was no one that you loved and cared for more than Dottore. That was a fact that would never change no matter what he did or how much blood stained his hands or morals. His presence was one that brought comfort to you, which obviously would sound like a deranged lie to anyone else considering the kind of man Dottore was. But so be it. No one would ever understand your relationship.

But… it would also be a lie to say you didn’t long for the camaraderie of others. It had been a while since you woke up, and the urge to have a friend or two was much stronger than in the Akademiya. Perhaps the loneliness that came with your illness was getting to you. You knew you could tell anything to Dottore but… it would feel nice to have someone to chat with every now and then about mundane, funny things, to get your mind off other stuff, and not to bother your lover so often. It seemed luck would be on your side this time (how rare) because you got exactly what you wanted.

Childe was the first one who had found you first, and it was wholly a chance encounter.

You were simply going back to your room when suddenly a voice called out to you. (Speaking of, you began living in your own room instead of hogging Dottore’s one all the time. You liked it there, you really did… but it was too boring and bland, and your bed was way more comfy than the brick that was Dottore’s bed. And you were starting to adjust to life a lot more now.)

Regardless, the voice certainly wasn’t Dottore or the segments. Turning to look, it was the unfamiliar face of a blue-eyed ginger-haired man. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.

Practically no one knew of you. The few Fatui assistants there who happened to come across you merely thought of you as another experiment, perhaps one he favored more than the rest. You didn’t talk to them, and they didn’t talk to you. Dottore’s order of others to leave you alone was understood as just another one of his cruel ways of isolating you.

Of course, this wasn’t his intention. If you want to talk to others, then you should do as you please (within reason… no one else shall be hogging your attention besides him.) He respects you. But at this point, it was simply far too risky. Even with the clones, it could be dangerous for you. And of course, not only as a scholar but your lover, he must take into account all possibilities. If there was the slightest chance you’d be hurt, he wouldn’t do it. So you were resolved to be lonely for a while.

Until now. The tall man continued walking towards you, donning a gray suit with a contrasting red mask and scarf, Hydro Vision hanging off his hip. His smile seemed friendly enough and he even raised a hand to greet you, but you were stuck with your hand on your doorknob.

“Hello, comrade. How are you doing?” He was awaiting a response but you were just stuck in the same blank expression, completely unmoving as you gaped at him.

“Are you alright?” He noticed and inquired. Oh dear. This was growing far too embarrassing for your liking. No one had ever prepared for you for what to say in these situations. Should you respond? Or leave? You decided to go with the former, opting to simply nod your head in confirmation. The ginger chuckled, playing it off as you were probably being intimidated by his Harbinger ranking, unbeknownst to him the fact you had no clue who he was.

“I was wondering if you knew the way to Dottore’s office? The segments gave me directions, but every time I come here, I always get lost. This lab is never easy to navigate,” he sighed, scratching his head. 

You raised an eyebrow at his comment. This hallway with your room was specifically hidden within the lab, woven deep between many twists and turns. You genuinely wondered how lost he had to be in order to find himself here. But more importantly, you were faced with the question of whether you should help this man or not. Surely it was okay, you were just giving him directions after all. You would be irrelevant in his mind soon enough. It wasn’t like you were craving some human interaction even though you were a bit scared of talking to people.

Decisively, you turned around and pointed forward. “Go down that way,” you began softly, “and then take two lefts, then a right, another left, then straight, and finally one more right.” You knew the way like the back of your hand, after all, you went there frequently when you were sad, happy, in pain, whatever. When you looked back, the man looked as if you had just spoken another language.

“...Thank you, comrade. Hopefully, I find it, then!” You smiled at him. He was pretty nice.

“Of course. It’s not as long of a walk as you think, too.” The man chuckled in response.

“Whatever distance is fine with me. I always welcome the extra training!” With that, he waved you goodbye and began walking in the direction you pointed him to. Ah, you didn’t ask him his name… but you probably wouldn’t see him again anyway. But he did have a Vision so he was probably fairly strong… oh well. When you were all comfy between your blankets you’d soon forget about it anyway. 

And you were right. You did forget about it once you were tucked in with a nice book to read. Until there was a knock on your door. You thought nothing of it, thinking it was a segment at your door for whatever reason. A snack perhaps. Or one of them snuck away from their duties to visit you. Or maybe even Dottore himself! Regardless, you opened your door without hesitation ready to greet them. Unfortunately for you, it was not a segment. It was not Dottore. It was the same ginger from before, standing at the entrance to your room, with that same smile except it was more apologetic this time.

“Hi there again. You see, I did follow the directions you gave me but I was unsuccessful. So I’m back here again,” the man laughed and rubbed his neck. “I was wondering if you could take me there yourself? You seem to know this place pretty well.”

Your throat went dry as you had to hide your incredulous expression. Seriously, what kind of person did he have to be to end up here not once, but twice? Though he didn’t seem to think anything of it, which was good. But it was then he took notice of the environment behind the doorway, a brief surprise flickering across his face.

“Wow, quite the room you have there.” His stature made it easy for him to peer into your room. Since there was not much for you to do with your illness, you had a lot of fun designing your room (which came out of the “Regrator’s paycheck” according to Dottore.) Your room was decorated and tailored to your preferences, whether that was posters on the wall or hanging lights, shelves lined with your special interests and hobbies. It was easily the most “normal” room in the lab like someone actually lived there. Quite unlike the clones’ room which was literally just a bed and desk. Zandik’s wasn’t much better, but you bought stuff from your room and left it in his in hopes of making it more comfy for him. Instinctively you closed the door further in.

“Maybe you should just go back and ask one of the segments,” you murmured, trying to escape the situation and inching the door closer and closer in.

“I could, but those guys would probably ignore me and give me the same directions again. They aren’t very fond of me.” Well, even you couldn’t really deny that. They didn’t really like anyone… besides you of course. “And then I would end up back here, bothering you again. And finding another agent to assist me would take even longer. And Dottore doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you know.” 

He did have a point… really, it wasn’t like you minded taking him, you were just worried about if it would have any consequences. But, when you finally got a good look at the ginger, for some reason, you didn’t feel like anything bad could possibly happen. Plus, it wasn’t like the segments had to know… maybe, just maybe, you could trust him and finally have a real human conversation with someone besides your lover and his segments. Before you could change your mind, you agreed to his proposal with newfound confidence. 

“Okay, follow me then.” Then you locked your door and the man began to follow you. Thankfully the dull-eyed man had no problem starting the conversation first.

“By the way, I don’t think I’ve got your name.”

“I’m… [Name].” For a brief second, you contemplated giving him a fake name but couldn’t think of anything good. “What is your name?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“You don’t know me? I’m Tartaglia, one of the Fatui Harbingers. But you can just call me Childe.” Childe. Childe. That name sounded vaguely familiar. Childe… that was one of the guys Dottore always complained about.

“Oh, I think I’ve heard of you from Dottore.”

“Plenty of bad things, I assume. But I can promise you, I’m not as bad as he says.” You giggled a bit at that.

“Well, I’ll trust you on that.”

“But I am curious. You don’t seem like one of Dottore’s experiments.”

“Yes, I’m not.”

“So are you a Fatuus?”

“Well, I guess you can say that.” Does being Dottore’s lover make you a member of the Fatui by extension? 

“Most members of the Fatui know who the Harbingers are, you know.”

“Err, well, I’m one of his personal assistants,” you lied. “So I don’t know much about the organization itself, since he makes me stay here all the time. You know how he can be. Haha.” You didn’t know what kind of bullshit you were spewing but you just hoped it made some sense.

“Oh, you’re one of his assistants? I haven’t seen you around. I thought he goes through assistants like nothing.”

“Yeah, he does, but… I have special… skills that he likes.” You hoped that would be enough. Childe seemed to nod in understanding.

“Your clothing doesn’t seem to be one of an assistant, though.” He was referring to your casual and comfortable daily outfit.

“As I said, I am special. You know, I have privileges.” That wasn’t a flat-out lie, at least. Childe looked amused.

“How interesting.” And then the conversation moved elsewhere. Childe was still definitely a bit suspicious of you. You could tell by the way he looked at you. But he was a seemingly friendly and easygoing man. If he asked a question that you couldn’t answer, he steered the conversation elsewhere. He was a great conversationalist in general, allowing you to open up a bit despite having just met him. Childe spoke about many things, his training, some battles, his cooking (he even shared with you some new Sumerian recipes you never heard of!), and most interesting to you, the world beyond the lab. Time flew quickly and soon enough you two were outside of Dottore’s office. And you couldn’t help but admit, that was incredibly pleasant.

“Well, here we are, Childe. Dottore’s office.”

“Ah, you were right! That wasn’t as long as I thought. Thank you for your help, [Name]. I’ll go in now.” He sent you a final smile before turning around but you quickly interrupted.

“Oh! Um, by the way, it would be for the best if you kept the fact you met me a secret. Please.”

“Alright then, I will. No one will know.” You beamed in response.

“Thank you! Now, I guess… good luck with the meeting!” And then you two went your separate ways. 

You liked Childe. He was fun to talk to. And it seemed like your wish would be granted because the next week, there was a familiar knock at your door. It was Childe. Although he knew the way better now, he still wanted you to guide him “just in case.” And of course chat with you along the way. Perhaps the latter was the true purpose of his visits, but regardless, this was the start of a secret friendship between you and the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. Childe’s visits to Dottore were sporadic and you couldn’t predict when he would come, so it was a nice surprise whenever he did come around. And no one, not even Dottore himself knew. You didn’t like keeping secrets from your beloved, but it was too good to stop. But of course, all secrets are revealed in the end…

You had once again fallen asleep in Dottore’s office, refusing to leave his side and actually sleep in a proper bed. So he was carrying you back to your room to tuck you in so you wouldn’t whine to him about cramps and sores later. You’d probably complain to him about how you wanted to stay with him but he was used to it.

Dottore didn’t need to worry about being seen as these hallways were specifically hidden and practically couldn’t be found unless you were perhaps looking for them. And no one would look for them as no one besides he and his segments knew of their existence. So Dottore took the time to gaze down at you as he walked. There you were, sound asleep without a care in the world. A part of him still found it amusing how knocked out you were in the arms of a person like him. Weren’t you even the least bit concerned about what he could do? (Of course, the answer was no, because you knew he would never hurt you.)

He continued to your room with an uncharacteristic softness that would almost appear disturbing to others. At last, he reached it, without any-

… Problems, is what Dottore would have liked to say, for at your door was the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, hand about to knock but now frozen, the two Harbingers standing silent as they stared at each other, almost comedically unmoving. Childe immediately took note of how Dottore held you in his arms bridal style, your head nuzzled into his chest and arms bunched together there as well. The soft rises of your chest signaled that you were peacefully asleep in the Doctor’s arms. There were absolutely no signs of discomfort or fear as any normal person would have around the mad doctor.

Unconsciously, he gripped your body tighter. As much as Dottore would have liked to know why and how the fuck Childe managed to get here, and somehow want to knock on your room of all doors, he was absolutely beyond the point of questions. 

“Tartaglia.” From his tone only, Childe knew he had stumbled upon something he should not have seen. “Speak of this to anyone, and not even your title will save you.”

After that little encounter, when you woke up, Dottore confronted you about what happened, and immediately couldn’t help but spill everything that happened over the course of the past few months. When you looked up at his expressionless face, you were internally scared that he would be angry with you, the silence after your confession driving you crazy, but thankfully he wasn’t. The only thing he did was sigh at your pleading face and then thumb your cheek.

“Perhaps I’ve been too harsh on you. I do remember how you liked to talk to others back then,” he hummed, which was the complete opposite of his younger self. You buried your head in his chest and looked up at him with imploring eyes. 

“So can he come over again?” Of course, Dottore’s first instinct was to reject this proposal for he didn’t want that fool to be even six feet near you, but the helpless expression you were giving him made him waver.

“I shall… think about it.” That was enough for you as you kissed him on the cheek. “At least it wasn’t the Third or the Ninth. They would be insufferable.”

“Those are the other people you always complain about,” you giggled.

“Yes, but you needn’t think about them. They won’t be coming around here anytime soon.”

Unfortunately for Dottore, it was already too late.

A few days later, there was another knock at your room door. It was almost comical at this point, you thought when you saw a young woman with numerous white accessories and a man as tall as Dottore wearing an unreadable smile at your door. Hell, you should just host a sleepover at this point.

“Well, it seems that Childe didn’t lie after all. Now I know who Dottore spends my precious Mora on behind my back,” the smiling man seemed more amused than angry if anything. Oh, so this was the guy who funded Dottore…

“You know, it was quite a challenge to get here, dear [Name]~ It’s not that easy distracting so many segments.” The girl also seemed amused and giggly. Both of them had their eyes closed with only smiles… it was an odd combination that worked.

“Um… are you Miss. Columbina and Mr. Pantalone by any chance?” You managed to piece together the names and rankings by paying more attention to the segments’ rants. The two most “nosy and annoying” people that Dottore has the displeasure of working with, apparently.

“Why, did you hear that, Lone? They know our names already! Perhaps our dear Dottore has been talking about us more than we think,” Columbina laughed, treading her fingers through her long hair, to which Pantalone chuckled along.

“Indeed, though I wonder what kind of tales he has told this one. [Name], may we come in?” The banker tilted his slightly to the side, and you had no reason to refuse. You just hoped Dottore wouldn’t be too mad. (Poor him, his dear darling being corrupted by the likes of the Damslette and Regrator. Oh well.) 

Regardless, the three of you hit it off immediately. The conversation flowed naturally, a lot of it being stories of Dottore that you had no clue about. You were surprised by how naturally everything came. Of course, the two powerful people still largely had their guards up, but it was still… nice. Fun. Perhaps the Harbingers have a little more humanity in them than most people think.

Columbina found herself around you the most. You were surprised at first - she was the Third Harbinger - surely she had much more important things to be doing besides hanging out with you. But she always laughed airly, reassuring you. She had known Dottore for a long time, she said, but never knew about you. And she would like to learn more about her newfound friend. Especially to see the annoyed expression of The Doctor when she steals too much of your time. (She loved to irritate him.)

Pantalone valued your intelligence. For some reason, he began asking you for your opinion in matters, nothing confidential of course, but still, it was notable. You were no Dottore, but the difference was that you were always willing to assist, much unlike The Doctor and his segments. And, you were greatly helpful in deciphering the confusing words of the segments and Prime himself, so Pantalone ended up taking a strange liking to you. You weren’t sure if it was because you were useful to him and his endeavors, or if he just found you amusing, or if he genuinely thought of you as a friend or just probably just an acquaintance, but no matter the reason, it was… nice to be around him every now and then. So long as Dottore wasn’t there. Otherwise, the calmness would quickly become tense instead.

Childe too, was like a little brother to you. You didn’t know why you felt that way, but you just did. He was arguably the most “normal” out of all of them (as normal as a Fatui Harbinger could be) and he was just… pleasant to be around. He was knowledgeable in the more “ordinary” aspects of life, having his own family which he loved dearly. You liked that about him. It felt silly talking to Dottore about such simple things, but not with Childe.

At the end of the day, your friends made you happy. Whether it made Dottore and his segments happy, seeing these three idiots invade the lab more often than they liked, was something you already knew the answer to. But your lover wouldn’t do anything too harsh. Not when you looked so joyful from this. So perhaps this was a small price to pay, considering how miserable you looked in the beginning.

And really, you always would belong to him, after all. Nothing would ever come in between.

—

“Though not everyone liked the butterfly. In particular, there was a fierce cat that always seemed to swipe at them whenever the two met.”

The Balladeer was someone whom you were used to seeing in the lab every now and then. You didn’t really care much for him in all honesty, but he certainly had taken some kind of interest in you, at least enough to say some not-so-nice things to your face. The puppet had seen you with the clones, with the Doctor himself, and the adoring looks you sent to them… he was disgusted by the notion of love to say the least, especially between you two but… he was intrigued. Scaramouche wanted to at least have a glimpse into the person who would make the Doctor leave in the middle of his beloved experiments to check on.

What he found was nothing spectacular. You were so fragile, even frailer than the young child he met all those centuries ago. You were weak, so weak. In fact, even an insect would be harder to kill than you. Useless too, he thought, and it was as if you knew it too because he’d see you beg the clones to just give you something to do, something to occupy your hands and mind. And… he found the personality and looks of all humans to be unexceptional so that didn’t help your case either. Scaramouche was practically convinced you were nothing more than a source of amusement for the Doctor, the doting only a form of his usual cruel manipulation. Again, you didn’t care for his theories, but his voice did grate on your ears.

Though, this time, the Sixth Harbinger had caught you on a bad day. There was no particular reason why you were having a bad day. It was just one of those days, where everything seemed to bother you. Not to mention you felt your illness was acting up more than usual… going on a walk around the lab’s endless corridors always seemed to free your mind up though.

Though of course, you were accustomed to things not going your way.

“Well well, look who we have here. The Doctor’s little plaything,” Scaramouche mocked. Oh, it was just your luck. Out of all the deserted halls, he had to be in this one. You decided to try and simply ignore his words, yet in an instant, the Harbinger was in front of you.

“I really don’t see what he sees in you,” he narrowed his eyes at you. “What kind of amusement does he use you for?”

“... I would appreciate it if you left me alone.” Scaramouche scoffed in response.

“Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but the Doctor has no capacity for feelings or emotions. Anyone close to him will meet a nasty end. Do you really think you’re any different?” The Balladeer smirked.

“...” Normally you would just turn a blind eye, but you were just so annoyed with everything today.

“What’s wrong? You’re usually so lively and talkative-”

“Look,” you finally interrupted, “just because you’re pissed with the world doesn’t mean you have to bother me with your delusions,” you snapped, fed up with his bickering with you. Hell, your life was no sparkles or rainbows but you didn’t go around making everyone miserable because of it. “At least my lover didn’t abandon me for crying, unlike someone else’s mommy.” It was only after the words had come out of your mouth that you realized what you said.

For a few seconds, there was a tense silence in the corridor. The expression on the puppet’s face made you stiffen. Oh fuck.

“How dare you, you insignificant-” Before the Balladeer could hurl any more insults at you, a stern voice interrupted him.

“I suggest you speak to them in a more respectful tone, Scaramouche.” The sudden intrusion made both you and Scaramouche jump. Neither of you had sensed the Doctor’s presence, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere as he loomed over Scaramouche. “Any further language will not be tolerated.”

For a split second, Scaramouche froze but quickly regained his usual demeanor, his ever-present scowl and balled fists returning. “Whatever,” he flipped around mumbling some more curses under his breath, the back of his hat swaying with every movement. In no time, it was just you and Dottore in the hallway, and he was staring right at you.

“How long?”

“Well-” you were going to try and blow it off as nothing important but the look he was giving you made you realize that he wouldn’t take that as an answer. “A w-while now,” you admitted. Dottore was silent for a few moments before he spoke.

“He will be dealt with accordingly,” Dottore promised as he cupped your cheek.

“...Okay,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. You knew that this wasn’t exactly right. You knew that later today you’d hear the screams of the puppet echoing throughout the lab. But as the warmth of Dottore’s hand permeated your cold skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

—

“The butterfly’s life seemed to be going well. A partner who loved them along with multiple segments. Friends who spent time with them. But in reality, life was much harder and dim for them than they outwardly showed sometimes. In fact, the butterfly found themselves plagued by dreams. They weren’t nightmares, but when they woke up, it certainly felt like one. Or when they did have genuine nightmares, they felt the same unease and wept about their unfortunate situation.”

Ah. Nahida was at this part of the tale. Though she would always disapprove and be the enemy of you and the Doctor, the kind God couldn’t help but feel a little bit of sympathy for you. In all of her wisdom, even she had no information of your illness. Not to mention your loneliness… she too, was lonely once, when she was trapped all by herself in the Sanctuary. But at the very least, she was able to visit others through dreams.

You, on the other hand, had no such escape. Trapped forever in your own body, with not much to be done… your own dreams serving as torment instead… how tragic, Nahida admits. But nonetheless, the Dendro Archon gets herself ready to continue the fairy tale she’s crafted.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

ok. Oneshot/headcanons for Xianyun, Natasha and Bronya having a nfws makeout session with their S/o

(Genshin Impact/H:SR) Xianyun, Natasha, Seele, and Bronya makeout HC's

NSF-W IMPLICATIONS UNDER THE CUT!

Well, that didn't take very long to be requested.

Xianyun's fingers fidget as she struggles to meet her the gaze of her mortal S/O.

She knew what kissing was to some kind of extent. Though it was mostly familial love, nothing like this.

(Xianyun) "...Nervous? Dispel such notions! One is just...curious on how a mortal shows such love. You will...show me how to do so, yes?"

Her body freezes up when her S/O presses against her lips, unsure of what exactly to do.

Xianyun lets them take the lead as her hands are guided by S/O's, wrapping around their waist.

She can't help but tremble under the attention, feeling their tongue brush across her lips.

S/O's hands gently lower her mouth to let their tongue in, her own awkwardly prodding them.

Pulling back, Xianyun notices the small string of saliva connecting to their lips.

(Xianyun) "One could...get used to this feeling. The afternoon is still young, would you...care to show me more?"

Without another word, S/O took Xianyun back into her mouth, this time allowing herself to melt into their kiss, trying to mimic their actions.

Xianyun had no care for worldly desires other than the bonds of her loved ones, food, and...well, maybe adding whatever this feeling was to the list wasn't a bad idea...

Xianyun is awkward at making out at first, but slowly starts to get more intense after she gets used to the feeling.

She pushes more of her body onto her S/O, letting her chest squish up against them as her arms grip them into a hold they aren't getting out of.

After closing up the clinic, Natasha needed to destress.

She gently grabbed S/O's shoulder and pushed them onto their shared bed.

Natasha's breath grew heavy as her mouth collided into S/O's, deeply kissing them.

Pulling back, she began panting as she smiled at them, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

(Natasha) "Sorry...You don't mind, do you?"

Feeling a hand slide across her waist, she smiled as both her hands cupped S/O's face.

With their silent approval, she began kissing them more fervently, letting the full weight of her body drop onto S/O.

Natasha let a moan escape as her body began to both relax and heat up at the same time.

(Natasha) "I love you..."

After restating her declaration of love, her tongue begins greedily devouring them as her arms lift them up easily.

Right now, there was nothing more she could ask for than to share an intimate moment like this with the person she loved.

...Well, that and perhaps a comfier bed for them to do it in. But beggars can't be choosers.

Natasha is gentle but firm, deliberately being slow so they can drag the moment out as they both get a taste of each other.

But there's also a hint of neediness, considering how stressed out she can get on the job, and all of her tension is getting released the moment her S/O is making physical contact.

Seele pins S/O's hands against the wall, before unashamedly kissing them with a force that made S/O tremble.

Pulling back just as forcefully, the two of them take a deep breath.

(Seele) "...S-Sorry, needed to get that out of my system."

Her hands let go for a moment, being far more gentle.

(Seele) "Do...you want to continue?"

After hearing S/O say yes, she grabs their forearms and pins them above their head again, but this time with less force as she closes her eyes.

Seele pushes her full body into S/O, her kiss growing more intense by the second.

Both their lungs are burning for air, but she only pulls away for a second each time before plunging back in.

In the safety of their home, she could have S/O all to herself, and she was going to enjoy that privilege.

Her kissing always begins feeling primal, and somehow gets even stronger as the seconds pass.

Seele is nearly grinding against them as her body is taking full control, the only thought going through her mind is the loving pleasure for both her and S/O.

Bronya softly moans as she feels S/O kiss her neck, then trailing up to underneath her jaw.

One of her hands brush down their head, closing her eyes to feel every last kiss.

(Bronya) "S/O...H-Hang on."

She reluctantly pushes them off for a brief moment before locking the door behind her, and laying down on the bed with S/O above them.

Bronya's chest heaves up and down quickly as S/O nips at her shoulders, feeling a soft bite every few inches.

Her breath hitches when they gently suck on her neck, before finally taking her by the lips.

With eyes half-lidded, her hands grab their face as she pulls them away to speak.

(Bronya) "I...want you to feel good as well."

She takes them back into a kiss before her hands start reaching underneath their shirt.

Bronya's kisses start off gentle, but grow more lustful as she feels S/O on her body.

Any sense of trying to remain professional melts away as she lets her lover take the lead, and depending on the day, will take control herself.

[bonefall]

Not sure if this is the place to ask or if I should go to Bonebabble, but ooh, Dungeon Meshi mention! I love what you said about low-empathy and apathy, I think I’ll use that in ny own characters.

I wanted to ask why you think Shuro is autistic. I’ve seen a lot of people say it so there must be a reason why, but I don’t think it’s really obvious to me? Like with Laios, autism/neurodivergence is so integral to his story, so it’s deeply obvious. I love the way he’s written! But we don’t see a lot of Shuro, so I’d like to hear more of why people see the tism in him.

@bonebabbles is the better place to send these in the future but it's chill! The vibe right now's loose since we're all coming down from the heaviness of Mooncourse lmao

Honestly, I feel a little 'tism in a lot of the cast of Dungeon Meshi. As a very autistic writer myself, it kind of has a vibe like it was written by someone who's autistic and so it gets peppered into all of her characters. It's something I notice a lot in my own art, too.

But like, when it comes to Toshiro... I can't stop thinking about him. He makes me want to chew the furniture. With every passing day I become less normal about him.

glossary because I had a lot of thoughts about Toshiro Dungeon Meshi i guess. Oh my god this got long

He reminds me of some people I know

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

THE LAIOS FIGHT

in conclusion

He reminds me of some people I know

He reminds me of certain autistic men I've met from affluent families. The type who both is taught to repress and mask their own traits, yet also not to be incredibly mindful of the emotions of other people. Because of their status, they don't have to learn how to work out interpersonal conflict because the majority of the people around them are servants or family. People who would never go away if they didn't like you.

So, his vassals have to learn to talk to him and how to carry out his orders. Not the other way around. As a result, Toshiro has a bit of unearned confidence about his leadership abilities and communication skills. NOT in a way that is smug, DO NOT misunderstand me; just in a way that overestimates his own judgement. Maybe he has encyclopedic knowledge for talking to other nobles offscreen, but when it came to his own team, he was ignoring a lot of the good advice they gave him about taking breaks.

Yes, Toshiro is from a high-context culture-- but his communication issues are bad with everyone.

ESPECIALLY his vassals, people he calls family, from the same exact culture as him. They're worried about him, most of them are desperate for acknowledgement, they'd do anything for him, and he doesn't address this until AFTER his brawl with Laios!

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

Toshiro knew he was going somewhere that was going to be a melting pot of mostly western cultures. He knew the manners were going to be different, and he came alone, not in a group where he was only interacting with his own people.

Yet he NEVER adjusted his own social behavior.

I'm American and my partner is British. When I first went, I had no idea why they were offering me so much tea. I thought I was being polite by following them into the kitchen, thinking they wanted to move the conversation over there. My partner quickly fixed this by explaining that when someone offers you tea, they're taking a short pause in the lull of a conversation to be a good host.

I am autistic. What someone else might have just figured out through getting an awkward look, I had to be told directly. There are a lot of little things like that.

Toshiro feels like what would happen if the opposite was happening, an autistic person from a high-context culture coming to a low-context culture. He can't properly express discomfort. It's not JUST Laios, King of Autism, that he's having issues talking to. Neither Marcille nor Chilchuck know that "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, and they had no clue that he disliked Laios THIS much.

I even think it's kinda telling that Toshiro felt the most comfortable with Falin out of the rest of the party. The hyper-empathetic autistic girl who goes out of her way to accommodate others.

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

A strict, uncompromising moral compass is a hallmark of autism. It's everything Toshiro does!!

When Falin was eaten, he bolted off to assemble the best team he could think of. He believes that love is sacrifice, so he pushes his body and his family to the limit to try and prove how much he loves Falin. Chilchuck freaks out when he finds out that Laios told him about the dark magic, because "HE'S THE WORST PERSON TO TELL!"

LIKE, YEAH! HE SURE IS!

Maizuru also explains that from a very young age, he's been incredibly compliant. He never asks for anything, he's always been a bit sickly and uninterested in eating. He always tries to be on his very best behavior, even if that means not asking for accommodations he might actually need.

In fact, the only food he seems to LIKE eating is what Maizuru makes him. To the point where she ended up getting pulled into the kitchen even when she was on a "mission." Senshi makes a cute comment that it's "love" that Maizuru puts into those meals, but... what if it's actually because she knows the textures and flavors he likes?

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

There's so many little moments that are so incredibly autistic to me.

He sees Falin with a bug and he proposes right on the spot. The other characters are like, "oh that's just how they act in the east" but no the fuck it is not. They don't even know "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, how the hell do they know anything about eastern courting traditions?

I know EXACTLY what happened. I'm beaming you this information directly from the truth.

Toshiro was TOLD that you're supposed to 1. make your proposals a surprise, and 2. you will know the right one when you see them, and NO ONE elaborated any further because he comes from a high context culture. He popped that question the first time both of those boxes were ticked off.

In coming from a high context culture, what he does is strictly follow rules and conditions he was taught.

And that's absolutely why he handed Laios that bell. Because he does care about him and the party, and he's taught that doing these acts of service is a show of that... and he didn't even think ahead to the fact the bell was going to be ringing constantly.

And yet. In spite of that, he ALWAYS keeps it near him.

Before it clicked and I realized why, I used to think Toshiro was kind of an asshole for running off to get his vassals without even telling Marcille and Laios about his plan. Like... how could you not know they were going to do something drastic? The three of them were the Falin Fan Club and he was the most normal member of it. It's so obvious to me that Laios (brother) and Marcille (""Gal Pal"") were going to get themselves in danger.

So how could you just run off like that without telling them? Even if lack of supplies meant they couldn't go back in, how could you just leave them worried sick in the town, thinking you abandoned Falin?

And then it hit me. The man just has low empathy.

There WAS no malice, just like how there wasn't malice in how he was pushing him and his vassals to the limits, just like how there was never malice against Laios. It simply didn't occur to him like that.

He's never been taught to consider the thoughts and feelings of others very deeply and they don't come naturally. He's still compassionate. There's a reason all of his vassals love him!

But THAT'S WHY he never put himself in Laios' shoes, or anyone else's. Empathy does not come naturally to him. All of his good behavior is as a result of his moral code, NOT empathy.

So with that said, why does he love Falin so much? Aside from the wonderful, positive traits he lists when he's asked? I mean, what's really deep down at the core of why he finds these things so lovely?

Well... Falin and Laios are not all that different from each other, to the point where Toshiro gets gently ribbed in a bonus chapter about how if one of them was a girl, Shuro might have loved Laios instead. He waxes poetic about the ways she's different from most women, how she's not afraid of things like insects, her compassion, her face, her laugh.

These are all things Laios does too (in fact in one of the panels where Toshiro is appreciating Falin, she's trying to check if a caterpillar is a male or female), but Falin's personality expresses in a more subdued and introverted way. Closer to how Toshiro is, as a person. So... I think it's because he relates to her.

To both Touden siblings. But Laios makes him see things he doesn't want to.

THE LAIOS FIGHT

We established that Toshiro has a strict commitment to his values, he probably has low empathy, and even taking his cultural differences into account he's bad at communicating.

So then, why was one of his complaints against Laios' obliviousness that he "knows he doesn't mean anything by it, and that makes it worse"? Isn't that kinda specific when you think about it?

If you're neurodivergent, I want you to think back to points in time where you dealt with people who have the same issues you do. Autism, ADHD, PTSD, DID, whatever. Did you ever have a moment where they did something harmless or mildly inconvenient, definitely as a result of the same exact thing you have, and you just... HATED it?

You HATED it even more than you would anyone else doing the same thing. You probably know your response was disproportionate. But YOU don't do that THING they did. Or if you do that, it's less bad somehow. Or you used to do that but don't anymore and it reminds you of when you did.

If you're reflective, you might have realized it might be internalized ableism. I feel like that's a huge part of why Toshiro finds Laios SO. ANNOYING. Laios is like this stupid, idiot, blundering caricature of things Toshiro has been taught to avoid, which violate his moral code. Shuro comes from a place of so many more rules and subtle cues, and it's like Laios doesn't respect any of them.

What STARTS this fight, causes Laios to finally hit back after being smacked, shoved, and shouted at, is being told "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY."

It's so obviously wrong! Laios, who ran back into a dungeon immediately? Who Toshiro himself called rash? This is NOT a logical conclusion to make about Laios or his party. I think it came from frustration that Laios "does things the wrong way." That it's projection, stemming from that low empathy.

He's not like Kabru in the same chapter, who's desperately trying to get a read on Laios' inner workings and failing. Shuro's just extrapolating his own feelings onto him, because he's recognizing that same "sense" within him. If TOSHIRO didn't follow the rules he sets down for himself, that's not "taking it seriously."

Toshiro follows the rules. Laios does not.

...and Laios is FREE.

He's open and honest in a way Toshiro can never be, not as a noble, not as an easterner, and not as an autistic man. Hell, Laios was ALSO a noble, he gave that up! Threw that away, and then came back to his village and took Falin away from it. If Laios is acting like an idiot, he's acting like an idiot who does everything Toshiro has ever wanted to do. Laios cannot mask and Toshiro resents that.

One of the things Toshiro even explicitly says he HATES about Laios is the fact he's willing to be a burden on other people. Maizuru said earlier that he's NEVER made a "selfish request" before-- but Laios can just open his mouth and ask for help, feeling no shame, just as he did in this chapter when he asked him not to tell the Island Lord about the dark magic.

And then, after they literally come to blows, Toshiro tells Laios some incredibly brutal things, revealing he's NEVER been his friend and he has resented him this whole time. This actually sits with Laios well into the later chapters, but the fight ends and then they're just CHATTING FRIENDLY LIKE IT DIDN'T MATTER.

More honestly than ever before, because Toshiro is returning the effort. He eats some food (the narrative's metaphor for making connections). He thanks his vassals for the first time. He talks about how he wishes he'd told Falin about all the things he adored about her when he still had the chance.

I have to take the panels of his response right out of the manga actually because this little expression here is so subtle, but so meaningful.

(Read <- <- <- that way)

Look at the way that when Laios makes that genuine movement, assuring him with passion that he will be making sure Falin receives this message, Toshiro's gut response is annoyance. But then it softens and he pauses, like he's reconsidering what his response is going to be.

To admit that he envies "this side of Laios" is also admitting that the earlier fight was based on envy.

Laios was like this the WHOLE time. Making these grand speeches about his plans, what his party's been doing, how Toshiro needs to eat something and take a nap. He's ALWAYS been like this. It was Toshiro's mindset that changed.

In conclusion

Something I really like about Dungeon Meshi is HOW MANY of its characters can be read as autistic. Laios is just the most obvious one, with his special interest in monsters and inability to read social cues being central to the plot. His is a more "well known" expression of autism-- it's rare you get characters whose masking is central to their characters.

But it's really refreshing to see characters like Kabru, Falin, and Toshiro. Autistic people are rare enough in popular media to begin with, but we NEVER get characters whose autism intersects with their trauma, gender, and culture quite like these three.

[seventeenpins]

the stranger the better

pairing: Dieter Bravo x Reader word count: 5.6k summary: Dieter gets tentacles. That's the fic. content/warnings: uhhhh this one has a whole lot: importantly--TENTACLES!, lots of viscous body fluids, slight dubcon due to tentacles with a mind of their own??, buckets of cum, piv, tiv 👀, dieter is a switch, sex parasite, anal, masturbation, body horror, idk they're freaks and it's great, reader has a vulva but gendered language is not used a/n: this is basically just a crackfic that i've taken far too seriously. Also, shoutout to Ozzie @ozarkthedog for listening to all my dumbass thoughts and helping me finally get this finished!! ☺️😚

Dieter doesn't know exactly how the idea came to him, but he knows the important bits. It was, he reasoned, a sign- nay, a prophecy. He wishes he could replicate the exact cocktail of stimulants and psychedelics that allowed him to see this glimpse into greatness, because the results were eye opening.

Somehow, the universe injected into him an understanding of That Which He Sought.

He sketched it, painted it, utilized every descriptor he could think of, and sat down his PA, Todd, using every medium he had adequate command of to illustrate as clear a picture for his employee as was possible.

He was very thorough.

Todd, who Dieter often found unsettling due to the degree to which he was able to stay entirely un-rattled by anything, raised an eyebrow.

(Dieter didn't want to ruin the moment, but this was a fucking win.)

The PA's first response was "Excuse me, you want me to find you something that definitely doesn't exist because you had a drug-induced hallucination about it?"

On day five of Dieter waxing poetic, Todd needed it to end. He was already well adept at navigating the dark web--this was not the first time Dieter had had him track down something weird--but he had absolutely no doubt that Dieter was about to get scammed for a whole lot of money.

No skin off my nose, he reasoned, and negotiated the definitely-not-legit sale anyway. Whatever Dieter wants, Dieter gets. Hopefully, he'll be willing to accept the truth when no magical prophecy thing materializes at his door.

It's over a month later, when Todd feels confident nothing would turn up, and just as Dieter begins to accept this crushing defeat, that a strange, perfect cube of a parcel arrives.

It was a sleek box that felt somewhere between aluminum and heavy cardstock, with a heavier, equally sleek box inside. Something about it seemed almost extraterrestrial.

Todd placed it on the least cluttered corner of Dieter's immensely cluttered coffee table and made a prompt exit. If this thing was somehow the thing Dieter was after, he didn't want to be present for even a minute of the aftermath.

Hours later, when Dieter discovers the parcel, his heart begins to pound. With shaking hands, he unwraps it.

It's a bitch to open, almost akin to one of those puzzle boxes, but even more confounding. There are no visible seams. No obvious opening. He's halfway ready to take a hammer to it when, all of a sudden, it unfolds itself in elegant, silvery, petal-like plates.

Inside is a glass-like cube. Glass-like, but definitely not glass--it didn't have enough weight to it. Not plastic, either. The density wasn't quite right. Inside the cube is a strange, pulsating something.

It's the thing from his dream.

The pulsing thing is a little revolting, but mostly intriguing. (Todd would argue the reverse.) Shape wise, it's grub-like, maybe a handspan long, with its body made up of many near-identical segments. Both ends of it taper to a rounded bulb, and both ends are absolutely dripping with some sort of viscous fluid. No flared base, Dieter notes, and then decides it’s a nonissue.

As well as being, well, somewhat disgusting, it's also quite beautiful. It's iridescent, reminding him of some kind of shimmery beetle. It looks soft, and with every strange pulse, the sheen catches the light and throws rainbows in all the crevices of its little body.

Dieter immediately pops the weirdest boner.

For a man who's impulse control is about as ingrained as his commitment to abstinence, he's incredibly proud that he manages to wait until after this Friday's particularly tedious production meeting wraps up before getting started.

He has this weekend off, and gives everyone on his team the weekend off too. When the last person steps out the door, he locks up and promptly gets naked.

If his prophecy is anything to go off of, he expects this to get messy.

The shower pressure is perfect, and the temperature is just right. Slowly, tenderly, he works himself open. Sometimes he does this even when he doesn’t intend to put anything in his ass, sometimes it’s just for the sensation. This time, though, he absolutely does. 

He isn’t sure if he should run the -thing- under the tap first, cause it’s dripping so profusely he’s worried he’ll shoot it across the entire length of the bathroom like an errant bar of soap. In case the lubricating properties are necessary to the efficacy of the process, however, he holds it gently but firmly with one hand as he lifts it out of its, fuckin, transparent aluminum box, holding his other hand beneath it.

It’s slippery, that’s for certain. And when he presses it against the rim of his asshole, he experiences a very new feeling.

It wriggles. As if the nose? Tail? Indeterminate-and-hopefully-not-sentient-end of the thing seems to respond with enthusiasm the second it’s within sniffing distance of his favorite hole. He feels it pulse in his hand, gushing more of the fluid. For a moment, he’s certain the thing is going to evade his grasp and slip away but instead, as if burrowing, it slides itself up, up and away.

Dieter suddenly feels very full.

If he’s honest, this isn’t quite how he expected it to go. He thought he’d be more involved, for one. For another, he didn’t realize it would scurry so quickly into his butt. He thought he’d be able to hold onto it a little. Fuck himself with it. 

Gently, he presses a finger into himself to see if he can feel where it’s gone. Nothing. He switches from his pointer to his middle finger, slightly longer than the former, and presses even deeper, spreading his cheeks with his fist, sinking in as far as he possibly can.

He doesn’t feel it.

This may be precipitating a (not unfamiliar) ER trip, but he’s not ready to give up yet. Besides, this thing seemed at least a little organic. The likelihood of it perforating his bowel seemed pretty safely nonexistent, so maybe this one can be something of a wait-and-see.

Besides, maybe this is just the process! Little in life was actually straightforward, and his vision was pretty nebulous.

Maybe, to move it along, he needed to start by busting a nut. So he takes his cock in hand and starts pumping, feeling the hot spray of the shower on his back, working out all the kinks.

He’s hard, yes, and it does feel good. But after fifteen minutes of stroking himself, he realizes he isn’t experiencing pleasure, nothing that’s building or arousing, which is in itself a new experience. He can always feel pleasure. It’s the goddamn thing that’s gotten him into trouble more times than he can count.

Now, however, the shower’s started to run cold, his dick’s rubbed raw, and he’s no closer to an orgasm than he is to becoming an elected official. He’s been beaten by his own meat.

It’s absolute bullshit, but as he feels himself start to panic he manages to tamp it down a little. Nothing good will come from spiraling. Instead, he luxuriates in covering his entire body in a particularly wonderful-smelling body oil (for combination pampering and sore skin smoothing) and smokes a fat, fat joint. 

This was Tomorrow Dieter’s problem. 

He gives himself a couple more half-hearted tugs, just in case the oil makes a difference. It doesn’t, and it kind of burns, but he can at least go to sleep knowing he did the best he could.

Tomorrow’s a fresh start.

He slips into bed, takes a moment to appreciate the fabric against his bare skin. With a sigh, he drifts off to sleep.

Hot midday sunlight blasts through the gaps between the blinds. He should really get some of those non-gappy blinds installed. Or drapes. Nothing beats a good drape.

As he wakes up, something feels… off. He tries to sit up, but there’s something of a mass at his abdomen. He tries to brush it away–probably some detritus he’d left in his bed and forgotten about. Instead, though, the mass doesn’t budge. Instead, he’s suddenly overwhelmed by an intense, blinding pleasure. It hits him and takes over everything, and by the time he comes back down a whole minute later, he’s certain he must’ve just creamed his pants.

He pulls back the covers to check. 

Instead of the view he expects; his fat, hard cock, thighs, and tummy coated with cum–he finds a writhing, twisting heap of squirming tentacles.

He must still be dreaming.

Dieter slams his eyelids together. Presses the palms of his hands against his sockets till his vision goes brown and black spotty. Opens them again.

The tentacles are still there. 

Not knowing what else to do, he reaches out and touches one of them, gingerly. The same blinding pleasure hits him again. It’s only a gentle touch but already he knows that this isn’t just some wayfaring… squid that’s decided to make a home on his belly.

Nope.

This is definitely a part of him now.

He tries tensing and untensing his core muscles. One tentacle slaps out and hits the bed. Another two tangle themselves together. A fourth smacks against one of his nipples and, with a viscid sucker, pulls a desperate whine from him. Though some of the tips seem to always be emerging from him, he’s able to unfurl even more at will. He’d only noticed seven tentacles at first, then tensed, and a second row exploded from him while the outer layer smacked against the bed like a radial motif made of party horns. He thinks there might be even more. A third layer? A fourth?

When he’s able to relax a little and re-focus his attention, shaking, the inner layer sucks back in and he notices that the outer limbs have the same rainbow iridescence as the thing. Of course. Of course!

It takes time, more than an hour to start separating the new sensations from one another. To divide the writhing limbs and control them each individually. When he finally manages to high-five each of his outer tentacles, one-by-one, he’s certain he has at least enough control to avoid causing injury.

By this point, his cock is aching. He wraps two of the lowest tentacles around his length. The tentacles are thick, but his dick is too. They’re quite cold in a way that’s actually delicious. It feels like the cousin of the sensation he experiences when he slips ice cubes in his ass, only way, way more intense.

Just like that thing, too, the tentacles are dripping with the same viscous slick.

He works himself up. It's so intense, soo much stimulation, he half-expects to cum in a fraction of the usual time.

Instead, he finds himself hours later on the verge of tears, not a single orgasm in sight. 

His body simply will not allow him to cum.

It’s miserable, and clearly a horrible, horrible mistake. Will he be like this for the rest of his life, rife with tentacles and unable to clutch at his own pleasure? His dick is sore, having tugged at himself with every limb available. He has sucker marks on his nipples and throat. One tentacle is still squirming around inside his tight little hole and still he can’t reach his peak.

He needs a fucking break.

And maybe some food.

He checks the time. It’s later than he thought, nearly dinnertime. He’s spent his entire day on this.

He starts to formulate a new plan. Order food. Eat. Hydrate. Maybe he’ll scroll through his phone for booty calls and see if he can pinpoint one single person who might not get him sent away to Area 51. Maybe it makes a difference with another person? 

He barely thinks as he fills up his virtual bag and places an order. Leaves a massive tip because he’s getting into hangry territory and needs his food now. 

He shoots Todd a quick ‘I have tentacles now’ text, and closes his eyes.

It’s been a long day. A bit slow, which makes you itchy, but it hasn’t been too bad.

You’re about to call it a night. Grab yourself a bite to eat, and curl up at home.

Then your phone vibrates in your hand.

A delivery order pings on your phone and the tip is substantial. It’s incredibly close to you, too. You accept immediately, not wanting anyone else to get to it first. The tip alone can keep you afloat till after rent is due.

You rush, heading to the restaurant and, miracle of miracles, it’s a quiet night. The restaurant’s already working on the order and it’s only a matter of minutes before it’s ready to go. 

Twenty minutes from accepting the order, you’re walking up the footpath through a well-manicured succulent garden. The house is ostentatious. An enormous lazy river wraps around the home, and you have to cross over a bridge to get to the fucking door . When you get closer, though, you notice surprisingly beautiful carvings, spandrels, and various other decorative details that make it more than just a generic multi-million dollar cookie cutter home. It’s weird, but it has personality to it.

You get to the door and check the order details. It’s not a no-contact delivery. Instead, the message reads:

very sleepy. need food. 1) knock, if no answer 2) ring doorbell, if no answer 3) bring me food and wake me up and i’ll double the tip for your trouble the door code is 6969

Frankly, it seems a great way to get lured in by a wealthy eccentric and hunted for sport, or recruited to join a cult, or something else equally unfortunate. But self-preservation has never been a priority for you, and life is made to be lived.

You knock. You really want him to open the door himself. Even with permission, going in feels like an enormous invasion, and especially if this guy is sleeping, you really don’t want to tiptoe through this stranger's house.

On the other hand, though, you really can’t see yourself turning down that tip, if it comes to that. Definitely lends itself to your ‘this person is crazy’ theory, but you’re committed. You’re seeing this through.

You knock a second time and wait. Nothing.

Thankfully, after ringing the doorbell, you hear the shuffle of soft footsteps. The lock clicks and turns, and a moment later, you’re face to face with a rather disheveled individual.

His hair is mussed, sticking out in all directions, and, you realize, he looks familiar.

But it only takes a moment to forget that thought entirely.

At first, you hadn’t noticed that anything amiss. He was wearing a striped dressing gown over a crop top and sweats. The stripes, though, looked like they were rippling. And it wasn’t an actual crop top, either, no; the shirt had just been pulled up to accommodate what was on his midsection.

It took every effort not to drop the bag of food when you realize what it is.

“Oh,” he says, noticing your expression. He rubs at his temple, infinitely exhausted as he looks you up and down.

“You’re-” you start.

“Yeah, I’m Dieter Bravo-” he finishes.

You blink, shaking your head. He is in fact Dieter Bravo, you realize, but that doesn’t seem like the most significant thing happening here. “You’re covered in tentacles.”

“Oh,” he says again. “Yeah. I guess they are tentacles."

“Um, are they… yours?”

He shrugs, disinterested.

You fumble to find something to say, instead giving up and thrusting his bag towards him. 

He takes it after a moment.

“Thanks,” he says, not making eye contact. 

Apparently, putting on a robe was this man’s idea of concealing them. Now, he’s not trying to be discreet. The tentacles unfurl, most of them hanging heavy from his abdomen, nearly brushing the floor. Several, however, reach into the food bag and withdraw a burrito and a sauce container.

"Are they--" you watch as two of the tentacles start to unwrap the burrito. The foil tears a bit more than he intends, and then he dunks it a little too heavily into the sauce, which shoots out from the grasp of another tentacle. Salsa verde splatters everywhere. The limbs’ movements are apparently uncontrolled. "Are the tentacles new.. to you?"

He sighs. "Yeah. They just showed up this morning."

You’re not sure what to say. “Huh,” you venture.

“Yeah,” he agrees. But then he looks at you, surveys you, and narrows his eyes. He seems like he’s weighing something.

“Uh, this might be weird, what with this-” he gestures at the tentacles, “Situation. But-”

He hesitates, and you nod, encouraging. “But what?”

Dieter winces. Takes a deep breath, and lets it out.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

You look at him. At his tentacles. This is admittedly a lot. It’s almost certainly a bad idea.

But you made a promise to yourself and to your best friend years ago: If you ever have an opportunity to fuck an entity that has tentacles, you’d better say yes.

And it’s Dieter Fucking Bravo. You’re not backing down now.

“Yes I do.”

It starts surprisingly gently. You lean towards him and he cups your cheek in a broad hand, pulling you in.

This isn’t your first time kissing a stranger. If you’re honest, it’s something of a hobby of yours, so the experience of feeling a new give-and-take was familiar despite its novelty. 

What you’d never experienced before, however, was that from the first moment his tongue stroked into your mouth, you felt the most delicious pull.

You were already a little excited, but before even a moment had passed, you now felt yourself drench. Your pussy was drooling, the slick pooling between your legs.

You’re certain he can feel it too.

What had been a look of pleasure and curiosity twisted  into absolute hunger. You swear you can see his eyes dilating. After a moment, you’re certain yours must be, too. The room suddenly feels too bright.

Whatever disinterest he’d shown when you’d turned up at his door has dissolved, replaced with an urgent enthusiasm. “Fuck I’ve been needing this all day.”

From the front door, all down the hallway to the bedroom, a trail of clothing marks your path. 

Between kisses he explains.

“Ever since-” a kiss, “the tentacles–”

You grab him by the hair and he moans.

“I can’t cum. I’ve tried, for hours-”

You hop on one leg and then the other, peeling your socks off as Dieter steadies you by the waist.

“Been jacking off all day-,” he peels his own shirt off, hands flying frantically to make quick work of his clothes, “But I think I need someone else. My body just won’t work. Been hard as fucking rock but nothing happens-”

You slip an arm around his waist and drag your teeth along his collar, grinning when he melts into you.

“You poor thing,” you tell him, and you look in his eyes when you make your promise; “I’ll try and help, much as I can.”

"Amazing," He grins. “I feel better already.”

Dieter’s entirely bare, but you’re still wearing clothing. Something, you both realise, is passing between you. It’s a strange electricity that heightens every sensation. You feel the scruff of his beard against your cheek, you feel your underwear soaked. When he pinches at your nipple, you nearly howl at the pleasure that washes over you. 

As you feel each touch, the sensation builds in a way that’s totally alien to you. He shoves a hand in your pants and groans when he feels the thatch of hair at your cunt. He rubs two fingers along your slit, not stimulating your clit and not even trying to. He’s just warming up what feels like every single nerve ending in your entire vulva till you’re bucking against him.

He pulls his hand away and touches a finger to his tongue, tasting you. Two tentacles make fast work of the button of your jeans. Another wraps around your waist, lifting you up from the floor and suspending you in the air to peel the denim from you, unceremoniously tossing the garment behind you somewhere.

He’s fully naked. His cock hangs heavy and a little to the right, and there’s so much precum, it streams down his thigh where his tip meets the flesh of his leg.

You reach forward and wrap your fist around him. At your touch, he shudders. It’s a beautiful, desperate noise, and already, there’s so much more slick leaking out of him that any suspicion that this amount of oozy fluid isn’t normal is entirely confirmed. You wrap your hand around his length and he melts into your touch with a whine. 

The tentacles wrap around you. You’re not sure how many there are, and their movement is fast and intentional. The man in front of you is essentially a walking sex toy from your sickest, wettest dreams, and you will not waste this.

You reach for one of the tentacles, whatever is nearest to you. For a moment you think it’ll pull out of your grasp, but then it relaxes at your grip. You stick your tongue out and lick the tip, getting the suckers at the end nice and wet. Then, you realize it’s superfluous; the tentacles themselves are already leaking, oozing a pearlescent, cum-like fluid. For all you know, it is cum.

With your thumb, you swirl the slick around one of the larger suckers, and look Dieter right in the eye when you pull one of your bra cups down and press the sucker against your nipple. With barely a flick of effort, a tendril unhooks your bra, pulling it off of you before slicking up your other nipple and pulling a throaty moan from you.

His breath catches just watching you. It’s perfect suction, slick and firm and oh-so steady. 

“How many do you think you can take?” He asks, pink-faced and restless. The flush is so endearing. He looks desperate.

“Give me all you’ve got,” you tell him.

He whines and hisses. You think he might be deliberating, but after a moment it’s like a switch has flipped, releasing any inhibitions he may have held onto, unlocking his filthy tongue.

“Lemme see that wet little snatch,” he purrs, “That’s it, open those legs for me-” 

As if simply willing it–and that may as well be all that it takes–you both watch as one of the fat tentacles splits from the tip, sticky goo trailing between the trifurcated ends like an aloe vera leaf sliced apart. The three new tips writhe apart before slamming into your mouth. Two others pluck at your skin, marring the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

You yelp, muffled, as your legs are spread wide by slick, strong limbs, smaller tendrils prodding at your slick panties before giving up and tearing them apart. Elastic slips loose from your hips, and the gusset of the underwear is a ragged hole.

He steps closer, holds you effortlessly. You’re suspended by a whole mass of tentacles, the suckers pulsating against your skin, dark purple blooms beginning to bruise beneath them. Dieter’s face is so close to your cunt, your first instinct is to close your legs. He holds them open further, though, and breathes deep. “You smell like a fucking dream,” he praises, running a think finger along your folds, dipping in gently, stroking along you, finding where you’re most sensitive.

After a thorough examination, he steps back. “Gonna play with you, baby,” he tells you.

"Jesus Christ", you breathe. The tentacles in your mouth slip out and another tentacle presses at your opening. It slips with a lewd squelch and little resistance, pumps in a couple times, and pulls out to wrap around Dieter’s cock. He strokes himself with the slippery tentacle and lets out a groan.

"Feels like fucking heaven," he breathes, and another tentacle replaces the first, plunging into your cunt and pulsating, filling you so nicely, making you shake. 

You fight against the flutter of your eyelids. There’s so much sensation it’s hard to keep your eyes open, but you need to see him. Need to see this.

“Can you feel with them?” you ask, “With the tentacles?”

“Hmm,” he ponders, “Yes, but–” he slips a second tentacle in with the one already probing your hole and you feel very full. They twist and turn, writhing, pumping in and out of you. You’ve barely gotten started but you can already feel yourself start to build. At this rate, you’ll be squirting all over him in absolutely no time at all.

“I feel it,” he tells you, “And it feels really good, like, fuuuckkk–but it feels like it’s not just me controlling them. It is me, but it’s more than just me. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Then don’t,” you smile, “Just fuck yourself with them the same way you’re fucking me.”

He lets out another whine. It’s cute, really. Only a minute ago he’d been telling you what to do, and with the slightest prodding, he seems eager to obey. You could get far too used to this.

“C’mon, baby,” you coax, your hips canting, thrusting against the slippery tentacles pressing deeper, deeper-, “Keep going just like that. And open yourself up, too.”

He groans, and two tentacles move around him to start spreading his cheeks. A third prods tenderly at his hole.

Just as a third tentacle presses into your cunt, and another is gently pressing it’s suckers up your throat and holding you in place, Dieter is rendered incoherent as one thick tentacle shoves its way into him. Immediately, he sees stars. If this was the result of an entire day of edging, it was more than worth it.

You’re rutting against the tentacles that are fucking you, meeting each thrust. There’s a pulse pumping through each limb, making you feel impossibly full. When you look at Dieter, you’re certain you can see the bulge of a tentacle in his belly, filling him up so full.

You barely have time to process the build of your arousal before the tip of one of the tentacles suckers against your clit and another twists inside you, hits you in just the right way, and you tip over.

Cum spurts from you, your entire body convulsing. You try to close your thighs, try to pull away from the sensation, but you’re still being held aloft and spread out, fully bared. Instead of stopping or slowing, the tentacles only fuck into you faster and deeper. You can’t stop coming, certain at this point you’ve made a whole damn puddle on the floor beneath you.

Dieter watches, transfixed by the entire show that’s played out before him. He’s red-faced, his skin mottled with purple bruises, cock so hard it looks painful, and has a trio of tendrils ass-fucking him.

When your orgasm finally, finally tapers off, you almost expect your holds to release you. A new hunger stirs in you, though, and when you’re still held tight, you’re oddly grateful for it.

Dieter lowers you, pulling you towards him. He kisses you, open-mouthed and messy, groaning into it. After a few moments he pulls away from you, slick lipped and panting. When he speaks, his voice is raspy and desperate, a monstrous echo following it to create a bizarre, two-tone sound.

The tentacles that aren’t already on or in you both start whipping around, grabbing for purchase and pulling away as if they can’t make up their mind.

Dieter pushes you back. Starts to withdraw.

You hold him in place.

Now you can see his eyes.

They’re totally black. Even the sclerae are gone, murky with inky swirls, glassy and wide and beautiful.

“I- I think you need to leave,” he begs, “It’s too much. They’re taking too much from me.”

You reach out to put a hand on his cheek, and he leans in for a moment before flinching away.

“No!” He hisses, “You need to go. It feels too good, it won’t let me stop. I won’t be able to stop. I don’t know how far it’ll go, but if you don’t leave, I don’t think I can stop it.”

Warmth and clarity floods you. You’re not sure how much is your own mind, and how much is this thing that’s taken over, but it’s sweet, really.

He thinks you could stop if you wanted to.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you feel the way he melts, feel the way the tentacles stop fighting and start wrapping around your limbs again, their grasp pulling tighter and tighter, “You take what you need.”

With a sob, he lets go.

The tentacles set you down. Your legs shake, and you barely have time to blink before he’s on you. Any distance you had is gone now, his hands grasping at you, his body flush against yours. You can feel the weight of his cock against your thigh, the strength of his arms holding you. He’s steadying you, or maybe steadying himself. The skin-to-skin contact feels so fucking good and, if the way his hands fly all over you, you’re certain he feels it too.

One big hand grabs at your breast, the other clutching the flesh of your hip. He grinds against you, messy and sticky and so, so delicious. 

He settles you back against a surface, seats you and spreads your legs with his strong hands. A tentacle grabs at your jaw almost tenderly, plucking at the skin, holding you gently.

Dieter lines up his cock and sinks into you, groaning at the hot wet clutch that sucks him in. The surrounding tendrils wrap around you both. You’re certain there are still tentacles fucking into him, but you think another might join, right at the same time you feel the slippery tip of one prodding at your own asshole.

You relax into it, nod to let him know you’re ready, and moan as you feel the slimy length penetrate you. Dieter moans, too, entirely lost in the sensation.

He fucks you fast and deep. You’ve never felt fullness like this before. The pump of the tentacles into both you and Dieter matches his rhythm. 

“Fuck-” he croaks, desperate, “Think I’m getting close-”

“That’s it, baby,” you soothe, “Makin’ me feel so fucking good. Come on, baby, come for me-”

He pulls you into him, presses his lips to your in a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, longer and deeper than it has any right to be. It’s a tentacle, too, you realize, and you moan into the suckers that have started pulling at your tongue. It’s disgusting and absolutely exquisite.

He only manages two more thrusts before he explodes.

You feel his balls pulse, cum flooding your cunt. The tentacles pulse too, though, and soon your mouth is full, your ass, his ass. Like fireworks popping off in quick succession, every tentacle unloads, one after the next, painting the entire room in dripping swaths of cum.

He lets out a noise that sounds like something between a sob and a laugh, final blessed release at last reaching him. 

Dieter pulls out, but continues rocking against you, humping your thigh as his alien limbs continue to surge with spend.

After several long, sticky minutes, you unfurl from one another. With some distance between you, you’re able to see the damage that’s been done. The room is a disaster. You can literally see cum dripping from the ceiling.

Dieter’s looking around the room, too, but he doesn’t look concerned. No, he looks impressed.

“Well shit,” he surveys everything around him. “That was fun.”

You’re still catching your breath as he rummages around and procures a stash box. You can see a variety of substances; baggies filled with powder, assorted pills, a few things you don’t recognise, and a fat pouch full of bud.

He rolls a joint, licks the paper, packs it, and sparks it.

“So, uh-” you start, unsure where you’re going with it.

He beats you to it.

“You wanna stay over?”

You stare at him.

“I mean, it just seems rude to send someone home after sharing some life-altering tentacle sex, right?”

“I was unaware there was standard etiquette regarding tentacle sex.”

He shrugs. “All etiquette is just made up, right?”

A glob of cum drips from the ceiling and lands with a dull splat against the top of your head.

You burst out laughing.

Dieter’s eyes crinkle, and he’s laughing too.

He passes you the joint. You take it, wiping cum from your forehead.

“All right,” you tell him, “I’ll stay over.”

Dieter checks his phone, pulls up Todd’s text thread.

Beneath his tentacles text is Read 1:43pm. He rolls his eyes and follows it up.

you remember those cleaners? the good ones? the crime scene ones?

I need em

soon as they’re free

promise it’s not a crime scene this time

there’s just a lot of cum

After you’re both showered, you go to Dieter’s spare bedroom. Hazy from the weed and exhausted from the hands-down weirdest and best sex of your life, you collapse together.

Dieter’s tentacles look different. Smaller, maybe? Less hungry. Sated.

You fall asleep with his tentacles around you.

When you wake up, his arms are around you instead, holding you close. His abdomen is bare, only skin left.

You start to wriggle, to turn over, but something’s in your way.

There’s something at your abdomen, blocking your movements.

Dieter begins to stir. He stretches, rubs his eyes, and takes you in.

“Babe-” he grins, “You’ve gotta fuck me with those!”

Your own set of shimmering tentacles slip and writhe from your body. You pull him close, suddenly hungry, and get to work.

[animatorweirdo]

From the Shadows

You were expecting your baby's arrival, but then your friends decided it would be good for you to get out of the house and hike in the mountains with them. One incident of a missing friend somehow magically sends you to another place and not a good one. You end up as a thrall in a place called Angband, so now you take it upon yourself to find a way to escape before something happens to your baby. Luckily, you are not completely alone and find companionship with another thrall, an elf named Maedhros. Will you succeed in escaping? Or will things turn out badly for you and your unborn child?

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, an ex-boyfriend who ran away, dealing with pregnancy alone, falling, violence, Angband, becoming a thrall, lying, suspicious food and water, paranoia, dead characters, escape, a complicated birth, some fluff moments, losing a hand, blood, explosions, cold, and angst.

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

- Life has been a bit of a bitch to you. You had successfully finished high school, and college, and got the necessary degrees for the job you wanted. You had secured a job and were well off. It was just your unfortunate pregnancy. Ever since that cowardly ex-boyfriend of yours from college ditched you when you found out you were pregnant and left you to deal with it alone, you had not the easiest time. 

- Despite the circumstances and your emotional state, you decided to keep the baby and luckily your friends and family had been supportive of your decision. They helped you continue with your life and helped you get things good and ready for the baby. The boss who sent you the job offer when you were still in college was understanding and offered a job you could do online since it could cause some risks if you started your work as a graduated chemist while pregnant. 

- Things had become better during those months, but now that your belly was bulging and your due date was near, you had been feeling anxious and restless. It could be pregnancy hormones, but they did not help relieve all the heavy stuff on your mind. 

- You felt many things, mostly regret. You were happy that you decided to keep your baby, but you regretted some of your past mistakes, especially dating your baby’s father, who turned out to be a sorry excuse for a human being. 

- You had not even decided what to do with the baby when you told him. You wanted his input first, but then he just stood up and left without a word. Even though it had been months you still felt pissed off by his act. 

- When your moods didn't improve and your friends took notice, they decided it might be a good idea to go out and hike. Have a little adventure and fresh air, rather than being stuck in the house. 

- You were not excited by the idea but when your parents pushed you to do it, you agreed and they arranged most of the things for the trip. 

- You all went hiking in this well-known mountain place that held many stories. You were not excited about walking up to the hills and mountains, but you did not deny that it helped take your mind off the past and the view from there was lovely. 

- At the top where you could see the vast woods and the city in the distance, the air felt nice and you even imagined taking these kinds of trips with your little girl when she was born, learning to go out once in a while and appreciate nature was not a bad thing. 

- But then the trouble started when your friends wanted to check out one of the caves. They held a lot of stories and the guides warned you not to go in them because some people had known to go missing there and never come back. 

- You thought you would just check it out and continue with your hike, but then your friend decided it would be a good idea to go inside. 

- You rejected the idea and then watched as your friend went inside, yelling stuff from within the cave. You tried to tell her to come back, but then you and your other friend heard her scream and a sound that sounded like she had fallen. 

- When she didn't respond, your other friend called for help while you went to check what had happened. You went into the cave and called out to your friend but no response. You found a steep fall at the end and a pit that led to darkness. You feared the worst and called out to your other friend. But then, at that moment, you felt a powerful wind behind you, making you trip and slide down the steep while screaming to your other friend. 

- You tried to slow down your fall as you fell into the darkness. You used your hands, but unfortunately, the sharp stone and gravy cut through your gloves, cutting and bruising your hand. 

- Your fall came to an abrupt stop when you felt ground beneath your shoes and stumbled forward. Luckily, you were quick enough to stop yourself from falling on your stomach. 

- Your hands were in pain from the fall, and now you were alone in the darkened cave, far away from the cave entrance. You felt strange as you could not see the top but you were able to hear your other friend's voice. You called out to her and then tried to look for your friend who fell, who was nowhere in sight. 

- You tried to call out to her, your voice echoing through the cavern, but there was no response. It was like your friend was never there. 

- Anxious but worried, you tried to check one of the tunnels. It was dark, too dark for your human eye to see properly. 

- You continued calling out your friend’s name, but there was still no response. The darkness and the absence of another human being’s presence caused you to feel paranoid. How could a whole human fall and then disappear into thin air? 

- You were certain, you and your other friend heard her scream and fall. 

- The whole cavern system began to feel like one big labyrinth, but then you found something on the ground. It was your friend’s scarf. You felt some relief from finding her stuff, but now you worried that something had happened to her. 

- A bad feeling crept into your skin when your ears caught sounds that could only be described as whispers. You were not able to understand them, but they caused you to feel immense fear and paranoia. When you heard something move in the shadows, you quickly hid yourself in a small corner, and then waited for something to appear. 

- You did not expect a scaly hand to appear from behind your head, silence your frightened mouth, and then pull you into the darkness. 

- Your flight and fight instincts kicked in and you tried to struggle as much as you could, but then more hands appeared and forced you to move. You couldn't see anything, but then you felt a harsh strike on the back of your head and you lost consciousness. 

- The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a room with creatures straight out of horror stories. You quickly slapped your hand against your mouth to avoid alerting them and stared at them with fear as they seemed to be fighting for the possession of your outer clothes they had taken from you. Luckily, you were still dressed in your usual clothes so you were not concerned that they had done something to you while unconscious. 

- There was a sharp pain in the back of your head, but quietly, you stood up and avoided alerting the ugly creatures that you were awake. 

- You saw the door and decided to go for it. You stayed as quiet as possible as you walked toward the door, keeping your eyes on the creatures, you could only guess to be orcs. After reaching the door, you quietly sneaked out and dashed through the corridors. 

- You quietly stepped through the corridors and then hid when you heard more of them come running. You sneaked around and then took in the surroundings. You nearly couldn’t believe your eyes. It was some kind of underground fortress, straight out of some kind of dark fantasy book. 

- But before you could react, you were caught by a bigger and nastier-looking orc. He then dragged you back to the previous orcs and told them to throw you into the cell since they were unable to watch you. 

- They harshly grabbed you and began leading you to what seemed to be dungeons. They threw insults and for some reason called you 'a round-eared elf’. 

- You were then thrown into some kind of cell. It smelled awful and you were certain there was a rotting corpse in the corner. You quivered and hid in a corner, trying to control your tears and panic. 

- You cried for perhaps a minute or two but slowly managed to calm yourself and recollect your thoughts. You looked around the cell and tried to make sense of your situation. It was hard as none of it made any sense, and you knew you were not dreaming, even though you hoped this was just an awful nightmare.

- You came to the cell door and saw the corridor and many more cells. You then heard sounds coming from the cell beside yours. 

- There was a small hole in the wall and you saw another person through it. It was hard to see but it seemed to be a man with long red hair. He didn't look well. He seemed malnourished and there were some bruises on him, but he appeared conscious enough to talk with you and you hoped for some answers. 

- "Hey, carrot top.." you called out silently. He looked around before his eyes looked toward you. His eyes had an odd glow in them, but you brushed that thought away and concerned yourself with getting some answers. 

- You tried asking about the place and what was happening, but he only advised you to remain quiet since the orcs did not allow much talking among the thralls. 

- He seemed baffled when you shared you had no idea where you were. You then explained you were looking for your friend and got caught by the orcs. The man was then kind enough to answer your questions and you learned about Angband and elves. 

- You felt shocked and figured you somehow managed to travel to another world. There was no denying it since you were not dreaming.  Now the orc’s comment about you being a round-eared elf also made more sense. 

- The red-haired guy was an elf himself and he softly advised you not to get yourself in trouble, because it might end badly for you. You only felt dread at the thought. There was no doubt that these orcs were violent, and would do horrible things to you and your baby.

- There also seemed to be not a single human around. If they were to learn that you were not an elf, then that could cause unwanted attention on you.

- You questioned the elf if there was a possible way out. 

- He explained you two were deep in the earth and the main entrance was heavily guarded by orcs and creatures alike. Escape was nearly impossible. 

- You crossed the main entrance away from the list and questioned if there were other possible ways out since you did not come through the main entrance. 

- He shared he had heard about other tunnels but had no idea where they could be. He was too guarded to have allowed a chance to look for them. You nearly felt pity for the guy, he seemed pessimistic and lost of all hope. 

- You told him that you were pregnant and that there was no way you would allow your daughter to be born in a place like this. He seemed saddened by your reveal and told you that you should play nice and perhaps the orcs won’t be cruel to you and your child. 

- You had no idea how long you had been in that cell, but eventually, you were taken out by an orc and taken to a room with other people. You saw that they were women and that they were pregnant as well. You only felt more dread because they were singling you out for something. 

- You were then told to start working on stitching and clothing. You had some basic knowledge of fixing clothes, so you started working and tried to get more answers in the meantime. 

- You talked with an elven woman, named Siriel, who seemed six months due. She was a pleasant person and answered some of your questions. She said that if you agreed to give your child away to them, they would get better treatment and be safe from the cruelty of your masters.

- The idea did not appeal to you in any way. You did not wait for your daughter’s arrival just to give her away to some monsters. There was also a high chance your captors were lying about the whole thing. 

- You received some questions about your ears and why they were round. You quickly lied that you were born that way and played it off as a deformity. They seemed convinced and even the orcs guards lost their interest in you.

- You felt relieved since it would play in your favor. If you did not make yourself appear different from the other thralls, then your captors would likely pay less attention to you. 

- After working atrocious hours in clothing, you were given some food and returned to your cells. You did not really trust the food, picking out the bad parts away and carefully sipping the water.

- You had managed to memorize most of the corridors and paths to the work room, but you would need to see more to start planning. 

- You investigated the cell avoiding the dead carcass, bones, and sharp rocks that could prick your feet. There was almost nothing of use, but you found a rock you could sharpen on the edges and use as a weapon in your time of need. The orcs used swords and clubs, but they would definitely not expect someone to use a primitive weapon like a sharpened rock. 

- You were startled when you heard orcs bring the red-haired elf back to his cell. It was loud and when the orcs left, you looked through the hole and saw him in a rough shape. He had new bruises and cuts that were still bleeding. When you remembered him mentioning that he was heavily guarded, you figured he was an important prisoner and thus he was tortured for something. 

- You offered him a piece of clothing and water for his wounds. He tried to reject your offer, but you managed to convince him that if he cleaned his wounds with something, he might avoid suffering from an infection. 

- You two stayed near the hole, passing items through the hole. He was reluctant by the exchange, but you advised him to pass the items back when the guards came to do their rounds.

- He was the only one you could talk to and you preferred to have some sanity by having some companionship. 

- You asked very little of what they did to him and offered some words of comfort. You eventually managed to convince him to share his name with you, which used to be Nelyafinwe, now changed to Maedhros. 

- He tried to discourage you from talking to him because he was a hostage, and having some connection with him could cause you and your baby harm, and he did not wish that upon you. 

- You assured him that you would be careful. He shared a bit more info about the dark lord and his servants, telling you who to avoid. You put them on a note in your mind. 

- And for a long time, you were forced to work with other pregnant women. You gathered information while trying to avoid being too suspicious. You gave some things to Maedhros in your cell, who continued trying to convince you to take the food since you were expecting, but you did not trust the food. They could hold bacteria or other things that could cause harm to your child. You even went as far as to try to filter the water through a piece of clothing you managed to snatch. 

- One good thing you couldn't figure out was that no one had seen or heard about another round-eared elf in the fortress. It could mean your friend was either safe in your world or that she was somewhere out of your reach. You decided to believe the first deduction. 

- During your free time in your cell, you would talk with Maedhros and sharpen the stone. Talking to him about random things helped you retain some sanity and sometimes you offered words of comfort when he came back from another torture. 

- One day, when you had fully memorized the guard schedule and become familiar enough with the other pregnant women to stay quiet about your activities, you took the risk to leave the room and look for the rumored tunnels. 

- You dressed yourself like the servants you had seen passing by, hiding your belly and successfully passing the orcs without suspicion. You finally had the chance to memorize more paths and corridors, figuring out the locations of mines and other things. 

- You caught the scent of sulfur in the mines so you figured the fortress was under volcanoes. 

- The place was more horrid the more you learned about it. However, when you deemed it was time to return, you went back and waited for another chance. 

- You successfully investigated the fortress three times but made sure to wait to avoid suspicion. 

- You shared your findings with Maedhros, who seemed horrified and concerned for your safety, trying to convince you not to go too far or you might suffer punishments. 

- You assured him you were careful and that Siriel kept your secret. You just had to find one tunnel. 

- One day, you succeeded in finding an entrance to the secret tunnels. You took one of the candles and went exploring putting your mind on the time so that you would not be noticed. 

- You found a cave that was secluded and had a small pond with dripping pure water. You knew some underground places possessed pure water pockets, so you took the chance and drank to your heart’s content.

- The water had a salty and mineralistic taste, but it was better than the water served by the orcs. 

- And finally, came the day when you memorized most of the cavern paths and found a way out. You could have taken the chance to escape on your own but decided that since you were no longer in your world, you would need someone to help you navigate, so you started planning an escape with Maedhros and Siriel.

- Unfortunately, the plan to take Siriel with you was put on uphold when you noticed she was nowhere to be found and no longer came to work at your work place. You tried to question other women about it, and they shared that she was taken away and hadn’t returned since. It caused you to feel suspicion and worry. She was only six months pregnant, so it would have been too early for her to go into labor, so why was she taken away? 

- Well, you got your answer on her fate when you found her body lying in the pits where the orcs dumped the dead thralls. Her once bright eyes devoid of any life and her stomach was torn open. It was a sickening sight. 

- The orc guard who had the job to watch over you and the other pregnant women then said something that gave you a hint on why Siriel was dead. He faked sympathy and revealed that if one of you behaved well, she would not have been dead. It nearly made your blood freeze when you realized that someone was on to you and your secret activities. 

- The orc then said that he felt some pity for you and the other women and offered help to get you out of Angband. You knew he was faking pity, and Siriel’s fate wanted you to strike his head down to a pulp, but you saw the chance and took it, faking gratitude and agreeing to the plan. 

- The orc then secretly gave you a key to your cell and you took it to safekeeping. 

- You shared what had happened with Maedhros and he shared his sympathies. You wanted to cry for Siriel since she was a kind soul, but since the situation was dire, you needed to put your escape plan into action sooner than planned. You could mourn for her once you were out of that hell hole. 

- You had memorized the schedule of Maedhros’s guards and when he would be taken away for another torture. When the chance came, you sneaked out and struck the orc in the head with your sharp stone. You took the keys to your elven friend’s cell and opened it. 

- Maedhros was shocked to see you free and opening his shackles. You explained your plan to him and what had happened, and as a gratitude for keeping you sane, you were going to help him out. 

- Maedhros tried to urge you to escape by yourself, but you countered that you were only familiar with Angband, and would be lost in the outside world, so he was going to need to be your guide. 

- You then led him through the dungeon and then to the tunnels, which to your relief had remained a secret. 

- You checked on the orc on one of the entrance locations, and found him there with others, just like you thought.

- You secretly led Maedhros through one of the stairs. However, your time soon ran out when an alert was sent. You two quickly ran, but the anxiety and stress might have triggered your labor because, at the steps, your water broke. 

- Maedhros had panic in his eyes when he saw what was happening, but you quickly instructed him to the hidden cave. He helped you reach there and blocked the entrance while you kneeled down in pain.

- Since there was really no other way to go through your labor silently, you decided to strip yourself half-naked and dip yourself in the pond, blocking your mouth to avoid making too much sound while you started pushing. Maedhros allowed you to grip his hand as you then tried to push your daughter out. 

- You do not know how long your labor took, but it felt agonizingly long. Maedhros tried his best to give you assuring words while looking out for danger in dread. When you felt something pushing out between your legs, you pushed for the final time and then dipped into the water to grab your baby. 

- You soon resurfaced after grabbing your baby and removing the umbilical cord. Your daughter released a small feeble cry as you grabbed your dry clothes and wrapped her around her. 

- You were shaking and freezing, so you asked Maedhros to hold her, urging him to keep her warm with his body heat. 

- He didn’t question it and gently took your crying daughter, keeping her against his chest and soothing her. She stopped crying and you felt glad. Her cries could have echoed and attracted unwanted attention. It also seemed Maedhros was experienced with babies. 

- You cleaned yourself and removed the remaining cord from yourself. You pulled yourself out and laid against Maedhros’s leg--- cold and deadly exhausted. 

- It was like your hips and legs had been hammered a thousand times. It was a straight-up awful feeling. The withered dress barely gave you any warmth. 

- You then turned your attention toward your daughter and asked Maedhros if there was anything wrong with her. The elf quickly assured you that your daughter seemed healthy as a day.

- You nearly found it humorous how good he was at keeping her calm, and he shared that he has six younger brothers and had been part of their lives when they were young. 

- When he felt you shiver, he took off whatever remained of his shirt and laid it across you, trying to help you keep you warm. 

- It was quiet in the cave, but no one seemed to know you were there and you struggled to keep yourself awake. 

- You felt awful that you failed to escape before she was born, and Maedhros tried to assure you that it wasn’t your fault and that he would keep watch since you needed rest.

- You felt emotional as you would have liked to have your family and friends there when your daughter was born. Your longing for them finally resurfaced after realizing how long it had been since you had last seen them. 

- Maedhros tried to comfort you, assuring you would be able to see them and your husband once you got out. You were safe and near the entrance, so you two had better chances than before. 

- You nearly felt silly when he thought you had a husband, and confessed about your situation with your daughter’s father and that you were not an elf, but a human, from another world. 

- He listened attentively even though there was a surprise in his eyes, and pity when you revealed that you had gone through your pregnancy on your own because your ex-boyfriend was a coward and that you once considered getting rid of your daughter before she was born. 

- Maedhros did not judge you and his initial surprise about you being a human vanished. He comforted you and told you how strong you had been to make it on your own. 

- He then asked what kind of name you had considered for your daughter. You had not thought of many names but told him you considered Anastasia or Estelle. 

- He then humored, telling you how the word ‘Estel’ was a word in Sindarin for ‘Hope’. And for a moment, looking at your daughter, helped him feel hope after so many years in captivity. 

- The mood lifted for a moment, even though the name was slightly cheesy, and even you considered it was a proper name for your daughter for now. 

- You lost more strength than you thought but Maedhros assured you that he would keep watch and allow you to rest. You felt hesitant at the thought of falling asleep, but it was like an automatic response and your eyes closed by themself. 

- You might have slept an hour or two, but it felt like a long time. When you woke up, you were relieved to see that nothing had happened during your rest and you three were still safe in the hidden cave. Your legs and abdomen were still aching, but you were no longer in awful pain. 

- You urgently needed to get out, so you dressed up and Maedhros helped you make a small sling that would allow you to carry your daughter against your chest. 

- You two quietly sneaked toward the next hidden tunnel. However, Maedhros then suddenly pulled you back and covered you when an orc jumped out of the shadow with an axe in hand. The axe struck him in the hand and you watched as Maedhros lost his right hand and in its place now stood a bleeding stump. 

- Maedhros cried out in pain but prevented the orc from touching you and your daughter, pommeling the creature to the ground with the sharp stone he had most likely snatched from you and killing it. 

- The sight of Maedhros killing the orc nearly frightened you, but when you two heard a coming noise, the elf then urged you to hide. 

- You did what he said and hid, but then froze when you realized he did not hide with you and remained behind to fight the orcs. The fight was short-lived as he was overwhelmed and eventually pushed down by the mass of orcs. 

- You nearly cried when you heard him yell in pain and be taken away. You successfully remained hidden. 

- There was no doubt that they would punish him severely. You considered your options. The freedom was right there and you could escape with your daughter. However, you felt awful aching at the thought of leaving Maedhros behind. He was perhaps your cellmate, but during your time in this hell hole you had become attached to him in a way.

- Your nose was then invaded by the familiar scent of sulfur, and you paused to consider your next move, formulating a dangerous plan to save your elven friend.

- Maedhros was taken to a room where his most cruel master, Sauron, awaited. Sauron had grown accustomed to Maedhros’s escape attempts and always delivered the harshest punishments. However, this time, if Maedhros denied everything and refused to yield, he could buy enough time for you and your daughter to escape. The defiant fire that once burned brightly in his soul was rekindled.

- Sauron threatened punishment but complemented how near he was escaping. Maedhros felt dread when the Maiar revealed that they knew he got help, and would do awful things to his ally once they were found. He then felt determined to put up whatever shield he could offer to protect your identity since they didn't know who you were.

- However, Sauron was disrupted when the whole hall began to shake violently and a loud explosion could be heard in the distance. 

- Amid the confusion, an orc arrived in the room, full of panic. He yelled how the mines and the lower floors were on fire. 

- Sauron quickly acted, ordering everyone to go put out the fires, because damaging the lower floors could cause severe damage to the whole fortress. 

- Maedhros was left alone with a few guards, but when they did not pay any attention to him, Maedhros felt someone pull him into the shadows. 

- He felt shocked when he saw that it was you who had stolen him from the guards and were now leading him through the corridors. He wanted to scold you for not taking the chance to escape, but then another explosion shook the fortress. 

- You had gone to the mines where the sulfur deposits were. You had spoiled oil all over the floors and left a trail that could spread the fire to the other floors, then lit them with a torch since sulfur was highly flammable. 

- You were serious about needing a guide, and when all of the fortress was distracted you two ran like hell. 

- You managed to avoid the guards since most were busy trying to end the fire and the explosions that threatened to destroy the entirety of the fortress. 

- You two found the initial entrance. You saw horses that were left unattended and urged Maedhros to take them. 

- You two then rode out of the cave, into the outside world, and away from Angband. 

- After riding as far as possible and finding cover in a forest,  Maedhros helped you rest and make a fire. Your legs were aching after such a ride. It was evident that the labor was still taking a heavy toll on you. You felt glad letting Maedhros lead your horse while you held on to the creature. You had ridden a pony when you were small, but there was no way you would have managed to ride a full-grown horse on your own, especially with a newborn baby in your arms. 

- You helped Maedhros tend to his still bleeding stump with whatever cloth you had left and you two tried to enjoy the warmth you had from the fire. 

- Maedhros thanked you for helping him escape, but scolded your recklessness and risking your chances for freedom. 

- You rolled your eyes at him and told him you wouldn’t have survived long since this wasn’t your world. 

- You then offered some pace beneath a cloak you managed to steal during your escape since your withered clothes barely provided warmth. He declined, insisting he would be alright and that you and your daughter needed it more. You called him an idiot and threw the other side of the cloak over his shoulders, claiming it had enough space for both of you. 

- He looked flustered by the closeness, so you guessed he was either not used to being so close with someone, or that he tried to be more gentlemanly about it. 

- While you two tried to enjoy the warmth, you pondered about the future.

- Maedhros confessed about his deeds as a kin slayer and that his kin were at odds with each other. You could be safe with them, but since you two were thralls, he didn’t know if he should risk your safety. 

- You assured him that you did not care about his past. If he was willing to sacrifice his own freedom and well-being for you and your daughter, then you could trust him. Actions spoke louder to you than words. 

- You two then basked in the warmth of the bonfire and the comfort of each other’s presence, wondering about the days ahead. 

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

Why did you start shipping Bunny? What made you realize their characters had a certain dynamic you enjoyed?

Alright, story time.

My best friend is the one who introduced me to South Park and they started out by showing me select episodes from season 4 and forward, and around the time we were at like season 10ish they informed me what like popular ships exist in the fandom. Namely Creek, Style (I had already seen Tweek x Craig, it was actually the first SP episode I ever watched lmao, and I could kinda see why Style was a thing because they're best friends with lots of moments that CAN be read as romantic), and Kyman (I could also see why it was popular lmao) but when they mentioned Bunny it surprised me. Like these two characters barely/never interact on screen, but my friend just said "Trust, you'll see why later in the show." Instead of waiting to see why later in the show, the idea infested my brain and it clicked anyway.

At first it was just vibes, they seemed sweet and compatible. Let's over-articulate the "vibes" a little further; Keep in mind these are all conclusions I was able to draw about these characters pre season 14 (Pre "Coon & Friends", pre "The Poor Kid" and pre "Going Native".)

These two come from opposite ends of the family trauma spectrum; With Kenny it's neglect, with Butters it's an overly controlled/sheltered environment.

Butters is a yapper, Kenny is a patient listener.

Butters gets cut off/belittled very often for his yapping whereas Kenny isn't one to judge or dismiss.

But Butters isn't the kind of yapper who just likes to hear himself talk; he engages a LOT with whatever someone tells him, and always takes his conversation partner seriously. Kenny is rarely asked for his input, he's rarely ever even referred to directly in a room full of people, but rather just a spectator.

Based on this, I could see Butters rambling to him directly and give importance to Kenny's input and opinions, something we rarely see with anyone else. Funny that this was even confirmed to be true in season 16's "Going Native"

(idk these are just instances that kind of prove to me how Butters values & respects Kenny and his side of things, by either outright saying so or just referring to him in conversation and asking for his input that I rarely see anyone else do. This even gets driven super far in the vaccination special where Kenny is just completely and utterly patronized by his best friends & treated like their child)

So all of these things, without ever even having them seen interact, just made it make sense that these two characters were very compatible in a healthy and sweet way. They both have heavy trauma, but the ways that they cope/express themselves likely wouldn't be triggering for the other. Rather they'd kind of be good for each other to heal; Butters is the least apathetic character in the show, so he wouldn't ever make Kenny feel ignored or neglected. Kenny has seen & lived through enough shit, making him incredibly unprejudiced, he'd never even think to make fun of any of Butters' quirks he's been punished and belittled for.

As I got to the Coon & Friends trilogy and "The Poor Kid" and the whole Kenny lore bomb, something about the two of them being the most tragic characters in the show just kinda fucked my head even worse.

Picking that apart; it was kind of this underlying fact that Butters would believe Kenny about his deaths BECAUSE he's so naïve and gullible. Again, Butters would take Kenny seriously and value his input and emotions, he'd be the ideal person for Kenny to finally relieve some of the burden he's forced to carry alone. Matt and Trey are cowards for not making an episode about this like c'mon seriously it doesn't even need to be romantic

I'm not gonna get further into "Going Native" right now, mostly because the episode speaks for itself, has been probably talked about most in the fandom and kind of confirmed a lot of the things I already assumed about these characters (but if you'd like me to pick it apart feel free to send another ask), so instead I'm gonna tell you why I started going insane over them on a fandom level. Funnily enough, it was the Style-centric fic "The Scenic Route" by Hollycomb.

The coolest thing is Hollycomb actually published The Scenic Route BEFORE "Going Native" aired, and the way that they handled these characters and their relationship still fucking blows my mind. Dude, they're not even the focus of the story. They're a side story. A background ship. I'm not saying the main storyline isn't entertaining lmao but the Bunny background storyline was probably just so much more my taste I think? Especially how imperfect and messed up it started out, continued and went on. It implemented the canon fact that Kenny did kind of just not care about Butters and how his fucked up parents treat him, just like the rest of the town. Like Kenny is kind and all, but he can also be very apathetic and indifferent, and there's lots of instances in canon where the other boys treat Butters like crap and Kenny just watches it happen.

(Episodes: "Good Times With Weapons", "Marjorine", "Cartman Sucks", "Butters' Bottom Bitch" and "The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs")

(mind you, they're also just 9 year olds though lmao)

The way Hollycomb wrote how Kenny slowly started caring and falling in love with Butters even though he initially just intended to use him for venting about his own problems just stuck with me so hard. Like yes. That makes so much fucking sense. Kenny needs someone to take him seriously, and he doesn't need that person to be someone he cares about. He picks the easiest person available. But the slow realization that he's started pitying, then caring, and then deeply loving and wanting to help and save this person? That shit hit the SPOT.

Anyways, what I'm saying is that this fanfic was the reason I started thinking about possible ways they could get together and stay together, a lot of them messy and tragic and every bit wholesome as it is entertaining and fucked up. Kenny and Butters' traumatized asses finding comfort in each other is just something that became so special to me. I started out reading & writing Style, but whenever I tried to craft my own fics I'd always be thinking so much about what Kenny & Butters were doing and what their story is until I thought "damn dude why aren't you just writing about them instead". and thus I fell down the rabbit hole. enter chaos plan lol

This is such a tiny part of why I love these characters and why both of them separate AND their dynamic is incredibly comforting and interesting to me, and I haven't even mentioned anything about the many foil/parallel narratives around these two; Kenny & Butters as Kenny's replacement. Mysterion & Chaos. Princess Kenny & Paladin Butters. Philanthropist Dr. McCormick & capitalist scammer Vic Chaos. Especially the last one what the fuck I could write my bachelor thesis on Post Covid Bunny.

Thank you so much for the ask, anon. I'm so happy I got to ramble about my favorite little assholes <3333

[weirdsht]

Platitude (Cliché pt. 2) - LoTCF & Venion Stan! Reader

notes: I didn't plan on making a pt. 2 but the idea has been haunting me even in my sleep. If you haven't read pt. 1 I recommend you do. Most of the context in this fic will be seen there.

tags: Reader will be referred to as Venion, Raon focused, mention of torture, mention of vomit, hints of eating disorder, angst (not really I think), hurt/comfort(?), hopeful ending

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Cliché (pt. 1)

He is great and mighty.

The dragon believes– knows that he is great and mighty.

He has known it since his he hatched from his egg. Knows that his kind is the greatest existence to ever grace this world.

Despite all those things, he can’t show just how great and mighty he is. 

And it’s all because of these stupid chains that shackle him down. Chains that restrict his movement. Chokers that rendered him unable to speak and use magic.

It doesn’t make him any less great though. He’ll be even more great and mighty once he can use magic but he is plenty great and mighty now.

That’s what he tells himself every day. What he tells to comfort himself as this atrocious noble named Venion Stan tortures him. What gets him by day by day without giving up. Without succumbing to the pain.

Words that he whispers to himself might be words of comfort, but it is not unfounded. Even at merely 3 years old. Even without magic. He is still a majestic existence. 

For he still has his wits. 

Hence why he noticed that Venion Stan is unwilling in the things he does. At first, the black dragon thought someone else was ordering him and he had no choice but to follow. Perhaps someone like the Marquiss, his father.

“Sto– ugh!”

“Did you say anything, young master?”

“No. Something just got stuck in my throat.”

That was the moment the dragon decided to look at it from a different perspective. 

He was sure Venion Stan was about to say “stop”, but was unable to because an unknown force was physically stopping him.

After that day he decided to observe the noble’s actions. 

Slowly but surely he connected the dots. Saw the signs of unwillingness in his eyes. Noticed how he would deliberately twist his words to sound evil because something would stop him if he didn’t. Felt the way Venion would secretly care for him. 

Witnessed how his eyes died a little more every visit.

The baby dragon is the one being tortured. However, he can’t help but feel pity for his torturer. Venion Stan’s mental anguish is deep. So deep that those green eyes of his almost look black from how soulless they are.

Both of them are unwilling victims in this situation. 

Once the dragon realised this fact, his heart could let go of some of his hate a little. It’s not fully gone. It can never be fully gone until he gets his revenge. Because how dare lowly humans capture and torture someone great and mighty like him?

However…

He is not irrational. He knows how to give credit where it is due. 

And in this situation that credit mostly belongs to whoever is controlling Venion Stan’s body. That and he once overheard that a secret organization is responsible for capturing him.

The black dragon believes that they must be the ones to pay the price of his wrath. 

Which was why he has decided to look kindly upon Venion. 

Over the course of the year, they have spent together, the cell the black dragon lives in has become more comfortable. Pillows and other soft objects are placed everywhere. Warm lighting replaced the white, cold ones. His chains are not as heavy and even have soft fur in them. Sometimes, he can even eat delicious and filling meals.

His living conditions are great. Well, great for a prisoner at least.

The same thing can’t be said for his torturer.

Venion Stan looks like he's the one being tortured. And honestly, the dragon also thinks so. He has gotten skinnier. The bags under his eyes have gotten deeper, as well as the despair in his eyes.

His not even eating anymore. At first, the black dragon thought that it was just an excuse to give him the food.

“Young master, I’m sorry to interfere but you did not eat dinner. You also barely ate during breakfast. This lowly servant of yours urges you to eat more.”

Oh…

It wasn’t just an excuse to give him the food.

The black dragon had at least hope that Venion Stan was eating his fill. He needed it, with all the vomiting he does. It’s bad for him to not eat anything…

Bleurgh!

Speaking of vomiting. Another thing the dragon had noticed was how there seemed to be blood in his vomit nowadays. He hypothesises that it has something to do with the young noble pushing the unknown restrictions to make him more comfortable.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Young master! Are you okay!? I’ll go call for a healer!“

“No need. This is just from the heat outside.”

The black dragon observes as blood drips down from Venion’s nose. It happened almost immediately after he ordered his men to lessen their business in the back alleys.

Blood must be the payment whenever a restriction is violated. However, Venion Stan doesn’t seem to be aware of it. It looks like he truly thinks it’s just from the heat.

Luckily it doesn’t happen again.

The blood in his vomit was still there, but he didn’t have a nosebleed after that incident.

Not that the dragon cares of course. He just thinks that it will be a pity if Venion drops dead before he can get his revenge.

Venion Stan must stay alive until he can get his revenge.

“I promise after tonight everything will get better…”

The fool whispered in his ear one random night. He was merely resting his eyes but Venion must’ve thought he was asleep and begun whispering a bunch of nonsense in his ear.

But he lets it be.

He doesn’t know why, but his instincts are telling him to pretend to sleep and see what Venion will do.

It was silent for a few moments, but then he suddenly felt a soft hand stroking his head. The hand was skinny. Boney even. It wasn’t the ideal head pat. Nonetheless, the black dragon felt an odd sense of comfort as Venion stroked his head.

Plop

Plop

He felt two lone tears wet his horns. Tears that are full of suffering. The tears of someone who is carrying a different shackles than what the dragon does.

After that, like a dream, Venion Stan goes out of the cave.

When he opened his eyes again he could see servants removing the decorations that adored his cell. Turning it back to how it used to be; cold and uncomfortable.

For a moment the dragon thought Venion Stan was abandoning him.

The thought alone makes him feel a sense of dread. But he doesn’t know why. For surely, it can’t be because he has learned how to care for that cold-hearted bastard.

‘But he isn’t really cold-hearted…’

He pushes his thoughts away as this mysterious red-haired man carries him out of the cave. Showed him what the night sky looked like for the first time.

The mysterious man sets him free. He doesn’t try to keep him. Tells him to live his lie how he wants to.

And that’s exactly what he does.

He felt a sense of attachment to the man named Cale. So he follows him around. Hunts food for them to eat.

But that’s not the only thing he has been doing.

One night, for just one night a few days after his escape. He doesn’t follow Cale Henituse.

Instead, he follows Venion Stan.

It was easy to track him down. Both men are going to the capital after all. It merely took minutes for the toddler to find out where he was.

Honestly, he has no good reason why he would visit his torturer. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was to ensure he didn’t drop dead before he got his revenge.

Nonetheless, the dragon visits Venion to see the terrible state he is in.

Terrible doesn’t justify the state Venion is in.

As the black dragon peeks at the windows he can see the blonde sitting straight in his bed. With nothing but a singular candle to accompany him in his large, and lavish room.

Venison Stan looks horrific. There’s nothing behind his green eyes. No emotions whatsoever. His eyes were green but they looked like black holes.

He looks like those creepy things On has told stories about. The ones possessed by ghosts and don’t know who they are anymore.

Yeah, that was it. 

Venison Stan looked like someone who has lost his sense of self.

He looks like a puppet waiting desperately for his strings to be cut off.

“One more year… Just one more year and everything will end… I have laid out everything. Have done everything I could.”

Venison Stan started muttering to himself.

“But why? Why must I suffer like this? Was I that bad in my past life?”

His voice was emotionless, yet the dragon could hear his despair loud and clear.

“I think I lived decently… I did, right? Maybe I thought it wrong? Maybe I was atrocious… Maybe I deserve this. Maybe I’m meant to not be able to have free will. Maybe the gods thought that giving me free will is a bad idea…”

Venion did not spill a single tear. But the dragon could tell he was weeping.

Unable to hear anymore, he flew back to where Cale and the others were.

That night he feels his heart become as heavy as the choker that used to chain him down.

“...It’s okay. I said it’s okay”

The black dragon mumbled to himself as Venion Stan walks by.

He may feel a sense of kinship with the noble but it does not erase the trauma he has experienced. Even if he knows it was traumatizing for Venion too.

But just like he couldn’t stop his shaking limbs when Venion approached them with that vicious look he had. He also can’t stop himself from checking how the blonde is doing.

‘He still eats so little… His dizzy, he grits his teeth like that whenever he feels dizzy from not eating enough.’

The emotions other people had mistaken for anger... only the black dragon could decipher what they truly mean.

Maybe time really brings a sense of familiarity.

But he keeps his mouth shut. Doesn’t tell anyone, not even Cale, of Venion’s real state.

Because he doesn’t care. He shouldn’t care.

He doesn’t care but he still checked on Venion during the terrorist attack. Makes sure that he is alive and in one piece. 

He doesn’t care but still thinks about him every night. Thinks about those mutterings he heard that night.

He doesn’t care but he hopes and prays that Venion has not dropped dead yet. Hopes that his eating as well as Raon is doing.

He doesn’t care, it’s all just part of his revenge. He must get the perfect revenge.

But the sweet, young dragon could only lie to himself for so long.

“Human…”

Raon spoke the night before they were supposed to kidnap Venion Stan.

“There’s something I haven’t told you about that bastard.”

Cale opens his ears as Raon spills everything. Listens to every word coming out of the toddler's mouth. 

And after all that Cale asks him.

“What do you want to do now?”

If he doesn’t want to proceed Cale wont force him. That’s what he likes the most about his human. Cale respects every decision he makes. Attentively listens to everything he has to say.

“I still want to kidnap him. But… I don’t want to torture him. He has already been tortured enough.”

Raon buries his head on Cale’s chest. He stops his tears from flowing.

“Human, his still suffering. Even after my chains got removed, his shackles remained.”

“Okay, we’ll do what you want.”

Cale doesn’t fully comprehend what he means but he respects his decisions. Raon knows that Cale doesn’t understand.

“You’ll understand what I mean once you see his eyes.”

That was the only thing he said to his human. He wanted Venion’s gaze to tell the rest of the tale.

Venison Stan did not disappoint.

He delivered exactly what Raon wanted to show everyone.

Showed everyone just how much melancholy his eyes held.

In fact, there’s so much anguish hidden behind those eyes of his that even Raon was shocked.

If Raon thought Venion’s state was terrible a year ago, he has no words to describe him now.

The man looks dead. No, he looks like his desperately waiting for death.

And it brings a sick feeling to Raon’s stomach.

“Do you have any questions left for him?”

Cale asks after the blonde man faints from coughing blood. He says no, his curiosity has been quenched. The answers he provided and the clear repercussions of his restriction satisfied Raon.

“Human ask him for Venion’s servant! The granny that wears her hair in a bun! She knows just how little that punk eats!”

“Tell him about how he can’t control his words and actions! Tell him about how doesn’t want to do most of the things his doing!”

“Human what sentence did Venion Stan get? Is he okay? You told them to not send him to prison right? You told them he didn’t have a choice right?”

“Human, are you busy? Can you call Taylor and ask him how Venion is doing?”

“Are we going anywhere this week? If not can we go visit the Stan territory?”

“Maybe if I bring him apple pies he’ll eat more?”

Raon doesn’t even know what his doing. He doesn’t realise just how much he is looking after his supposed torturer.

However, no one calls him out on it. They just indulge the child and let him do whatever he wants.

“Venion is inside that room young master. You can try to speak to him but it’s unlikely that he’ll respond… Are you sure you want to go in alone?”

Taylor Stan asks one more time and Cale just nodded in affirmation.

“If you need any assistance a servant will be waiting here.”

With that Taylor leaves leaving Cale to enter Venion’s room alone. Well, he and Raon but Taylor doesn’t know about the dragon’s existence.

“He also looked like this when I visited him that one night.”

As soon as the door closed, Raon turned off his invisibility and flew over to the bed where Venion was sitting up.

“But that time he looked more alive. He looked like he was looking forward to something. Turns out he was looking forward to his death but that it was still a better look than what he has right now.”

Cale clicks his tongue but Raon ignores him. Instead, he directed his words to Venion.

“That night, before the human got me out of that cave. I’m sure you remember it. Did you know that I heard what you told me that night?”

Raon feels like Venion is listening to him.

“You told me that after that night everything will get better. And it did, after that night everything did get better for me.”

The toddler placed his paw on top of Venion’s still hand.

“But what about you? Why did nothing get better for you after that night? Even now you’re still being tortured. You’re shackles are still holding you down even after you broke mine.”

Raon raised his shaking paws to hug the man. From the side, Cale merely observes, ready to step in when needed.

“Consider this as payment for patting my head that night.”

The black dragon feels a lone tear grace his head. He doesn’t say anything about it. He didn’t even raise his head to look at Venion.

They stayed like that for at least 2 minutes. At some point, Venion’s arms had also embraced Raon. His hold was weak and lifeless. Like when you force a teddy bear to encircle his arms around you. 

But it’s the best he can do right now, and Raon will take it.

“We have to go, but before we go I’ll leave you one of my apple pies.”

Raon places a lone apple pie on the nightstand.

“Beacrox made it! He makes delicious food! Maybe if you eat something that tastes good you’ll eat more! Next visit I’ll try to save some of the Crown Prince’s cookies for you to try!”

With that, Raon waved his hand goodbye after promising to visit again.

A few days after that meeting, Cale receives an update from Taylor Stan saying that his brother is eating a bit more now. He excitedly tells Cale how he's been eating the desserts Raon sends.

Cale smiles at the thought of Raon’s happy face once he hears how Venion Stan is slowly recovering.

And indeed Raon was elated at the news. He immediately urges Cale to go visit Venion again.

He may not be fond of the guy, but Cale smiles a little as his kid frantically packs a bunch of things to bring to the Stan territory.

[sassy-cass-16]

LISTEN MAN. listen. When Essek and Caleb have their conversation at the top of the tower and Caleb tries to tell him that he’s done things on par with his betrayal, and Essek shuts him down, it’s so much more than that. It is so much more than that. 

More under the cut because I could write a whole essay on this one interaction

Caleb starts off with “The one thing that has stayed true, though, is that I—well, I carry a lot of sins, like you do.” It’s emblematic of Caleb’s entire worldview from the moment he got out of the sanatorium. He feels that the things he’s done, the things Trent had him do, are the only constant in his life between when he was Bren and who he is right now. He feels that the guilt is constant and inescapable, which is an idea he first expressed to Yasha earlier on in the campaign. 

And then he throws out a lifeline to Essek. He tries to bind their guilty threads together. He tells him that they are alike. He’s trying to comfort him, in his own way. It’s not entirely wrong, but Essek is three times his age and knows that their situations are not the same. He knows that his own crimes were premeditated. He knows that he made the personal decision, the active choice, to do what he did, with foreknowledge of what was going to happen. 

And so he tells Caleb as much. He says “Not anywhere like I do.” He tries to force Caleb to look at their situations in their full context. By this point, Essek has interacted with Trent, he knows the power and lack of restraint that the Assembly has. Caleb has told him that Trent was his teacher, that he’s familiar with him. It’s not hard for Essek to make the link between how slimy Trent is, and the amount of guilt Caleb feels, and figure out what really happened. And what really happened was that a young man was coerced. 

Caleb knows that, but he also carries that guilt for a reason. He did have other options—not past a certain point, not past when Trent made him a volstrucker, but he did have them. He believed that what he was doing was right, but he knows now that it was deeply wrong and horrific. He did hurt people. So he pushes back, he says, “Don’t be so sure.” He’s not listening to Essek’s deeper meaning here. 

and Essek is having absolutely none of that, because he sees this thirty-something boy whose crimes are heavy but nothing compared to his own, and he shuts it down. He gets Caleb to look him in the eye, and he looks Bren Ermendrud in the eye and he tells him, “I’m pretty sure, young man.” 

And the “young man” is important on multiple levels. Firstly, Essek is literally reminding Caleb of their age difference—Essek’s about 120 years old compared to Caleb’s 33, and for a drow who’s interacted mostly with people centuries or millennia older than both of them, that’s not nothing. That has meaning. He’s reminding Caleb of cosmic insignificance, in a way, which fits with the ninth floor of the tower being covered in stars. And it's not out of nowhere, Essek brings up the point a bit earlier. It's a shallow undercurrent through the whole conversation, but this is the point when Essek makes it mean something.

Essek is also reminding Caleb of their differences in order to absolve him of some of the guilt he’s carrying. it’s a mirror to the “venom in your veins” moment, when Caleb drew Essek into the Mighty Nein, dragged him into redemption, by exposing their similarities. That moment happened in the bowels of a ship, which represents the forced and necessary closeness of the moment. This moment, Essek’s response, happens in a place of infinity, which is a much more natural place of common ground for the two of them. The first one was out of necessity, it was Caleb trying to prove that he’s changed as much as it was him trying to prove that Essek can change. The second one is a choice made because Essek wants to show Caleb kindness, in his own way. 

In addition to that, though, Essek also calls Caleb a “young man” in contrast to Trent. He’s establishing himself as the elder of the two of them in a way that doesn’t imply power, it doesn’t even imply wisdom. it’s not him using his age to assert authority over Caleb in the way Trent abused his authority as his teacher. It’s just Essek making a firm statement about taking responsibility for himself. He puts this metaphorical distance between the two of them not to push Caleb away, but to remind him not to get lost in the guilt. 

Finally, I think Essek was probably a little tired of being dragged around by the Nein. He's been having a week. He might have needed to remind one of these people that despite how he looks and talks and how close they’ve gotten, he’s significantly older than all of them (aside from maybe Cad, although we don’t actually know how old he is) and he can handle himself. This moment also happens a few minutes after Jester put him on the back foot, by asking about his favourite food, so maybe asserting himself a bit helps him feel more at ease.

And Caleb's response?

"I will take you at your word."

It's hands-up, backing-down, letting Essek win. Essek has put his foot down about the severity of their respective crimes, and this is Caleb letting him know that he's finally listening. It's not a full surrender, but it's Caleb agreeing to believe Essek when he says that no matter what he's done, it's not on the same level as what Essek did, and he shouldn't take more responsibility or guilt than he already has.

The conversation turns to Caleb's goals after that, and they return to their usual conversation style, but that handful of lines is just so layered and impactful when you break down how these two got to this point. I love it. The push-and-pull dynamic here, where Essek lets a little of the Shadowhand out, is just... chef's kiss. All of this is improvised so goddamn well.