#my brain hid no detail from me

[oceanicfishies]

Smile wide for the camera!

— featuring: zayne x mc

— premise: what would happen if Zayne's [Spring and Flowers] was not full of fluff? and zayne wanted to explore his cameraman skills?

— tags/cws: +18, handjob, no-use of protection, use of phone to record, very explicit, enthusiastic consent, but overall filthy smut

The day had been pretty moved, first you attempted to attend a ceremony in which you would win a reward of Linkon’s City Hunter of the Year? Month? Week? Who knows. Zayne was pretty hyped even when he did not explicitly state it. Then there was a wanderer attack and of course, you had to go full beat mode to beat the crap out of the monster and then, you had to receive the award via live recording.

Zayne held the phone with a smile as small wrinkles formed in his eyes, that stared at you over the phone. 

“(...) It’s a matter of discipline and compromise, no race, ethnicity, sexuality or biological factor can define if you become an amazing hunter: keep working and it’ll arrive. Thank you for your support, I’ll keep fighting to make our city a better place to live”. I could hear as the crowd went to clap me, and my cheesy speech that I had to give while sweat dripped down my neck, and I tried to pretend I was not tired at all after chasing that monster.

As soon as the video call ended I stared at Zayne, that had his phone still recording my face.

“What is there to record?” I said with a tired smile as he approached me with the camera, capturing every detail of my skin. 

“You, clearly” He said seriously as he smiled over me as I tried to move the camera away from my face until he finally stopped recording and placed his phone on his jacket’s pocket. Then, he opened his arms to embrace me with a smile, “congratulations, love” he murmured as I hid my face on his chest. 

“Thanks Zayne, I’m sorry you could not attend the official ceremony” I said with a giggle. He didn’t let go of me immediately. His hand made slow, deliberate circles on my lower back, and I could feel his breath against the crown of my head, steady and warm.

“Let’s get out of here before someone makes you give another speech,” he whispered, brushing his lips just above my ear.

The ride back was quiet. Not awkward—just the kind of quiet that settles between two people who know each other too well to fill the silence with meaningless talk. Zayne had one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on my thigh. His fingers tapped a lazy rhythm, and I didn’t stop him. Outside, the neon streaks of Linkon’s skyline passed like falling stars, and I let myself relax for the first time all day.

By the time we reached the apartment, I was half-asleep with my head leaning against the window.

He nudged me gently. “ Don’t pass out yet, champion.”

I groaned, dragging myself out of the car like a corpse revived. “I swear if one more person calls me that, I’m changing my name and moving to the mountains.”

Zayne chuckled as he unlocked the door. “Duly noted.”

The moment the door shut behind us, I peeled off the jacket clinging to my shoulders, tossing it somewhere near the coat rack. Zayne didn’t even pretend to act casual, he watched me with that mischievous glint in his eye, like he was already ten steps ahead in whatever fantasy his brain was cooking.

“Something wrong?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” he said, stepping closer. “Just thinking... you look really good when you're sweaty and half pissed off.”

I rolled my eyes. “Romantic.”

“I try.” He was grinning now, stepping behind me to help pull the rest of my gear off. His fingers brushed skin, lingering longer than necessary. I let out a soft hum as he pressed a kiss to the back of my neck.

We moved into the living room, and I collapsed onto the couch while he grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. He tossed me one before taking a long sip from his.

Then, leaning against the wall with that smug little look that always spelled trouble, he said, “You know… I do still have my phone.”

I blinked at him, wary. “Okay?”

“And I am a pretty decent cameraman. Emmy-nominated, if you count my high school film class.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Zayne…”

“What?” He raised his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying—it’s a shame we never use my skills around here. The lighting’s good, you’re radiant... could be educational content.”

I threw a pillow at him.

He caught it, laughing. “Come on, imagine it: ‘Hunter of the Year—Behind the Scenes.’ We’d break the internet.”

I tried to act unimpressed, but the flush rising in my cheeks betrayed me. “You're insufferable.”

“And yet, you love me.”

His phone was already out of his pocket.

I watched him as he waved the phone a little, eyebrows raised in challenge. His smirk said he was half-joking. His eyes? They were dead serious. Focused. Curious. Wanting.

“You’re unbelievable,” I muttered, but didn’t look away.

“Mmhm. And you're blushing,” he said, stepping closer, slow like a hunter who knew the prey wouldn’t run. “So… that’s not a ‘no,’ is it?”

I leaned back against the couch cushions, stretching out my legs, letting my muscles relax in that post-battle haze. The warmth in my body wasn’t just from exhaustion anymore—it was from the way his gaze trailed down my arms, my collarbone, the slow rise and fall of my chest.

“You’re really not joking, are you?” I asked softly.

Zayne crouched in front of me, placing the phone gently on the coffee table, still untouched. “Only if you want me to be. We don’t have to, love. Not unless you're actually into the idea.”

I met his gaze. Open. Honest. Patient.

That was Zayne. Under all the swagger and snark, he always made room for me to say no, to set the rhythm.

“I mean…” I started, suddenly aware of the heat creeping down my neck, “you did miss the ceremony.”

“I did.”

“And you do have, allegedly, stellar cameraman instincts.”

“Legendary,” he confirmed, grinning.

I reached out and brushed a finger under his jaw. “And you’re asking?”

“I’m asking,” he said, voice softer now. “I want to record us. Just us. You and me. Only if you say yes. Only if you feel good about it. You can call the shots, review the footage, erase it any time. Hell, I’ll hand you the phone while we do it if that makes you feel better.”

I studied him for a moment. Not just his eyes—his whole posture. There was no push. No pressure. Just the quiet thrill of a shared idea, waiting to bloom if I let it.

A breath caught in my throat, and I leaned forward until our foreheads touched.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I want to.”

Zayne let out a small breath of relief, a smile breaking wide across his face. He tilted my chin up with two fingers and kissed me, slow and reverent, the kind of kiss that says thank you for trusting me.

Then he murmured against my lips, “I’ll set the angle just right. You deserve cinematic lighting, after all.”

“Oh, you’re so extra,” I laughed breathlessly, pulling him in as the kiss deepened.

Zayne’s hands slid under my thighs as he lifted me effortlessly, his lips still locked on mine, tasting like want and patience finally unspooled. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, giggling against his mouth as he carried me down the hallway.

“Where..”

“Bedroom,” he murmured. “Tripod’s in the closet. I knew one day it’d have its moment.”

I let my head fall back in a groan. “God, you’re such a menace.”

“You love it,” he replied, kicking the door open with his foot.

He set me down on the bed and moved across the room like he had a blueprint in his mind. He pulled open the closet, found the tripod, and then set his phone into the mount with a casual expertise that was borderline ridiculous. He adjusted the angle, then turned back to me with a spark in his eye.

“I’ll only hit record when you say,” he said, pausing with his finger over the screen.

I sat up on the edge of the bed, watching him. My pulse was a steady thrum in my throat now, but I wasn’t nervous. I felt seen. Wanted. Powerful, even, like the adrenaline from the fight earlier had twisted into something heavier, slower, warmer.

I pulled my shirt up over my head in one fluid motion and tossed it to the floor. Zayne’s breath caught.

“I’m saying,” I told him, voice low.

He didn’t move for a second. Just stared at me—my chest rising and falling, the sheen of sweat still clinging to my collarbones, the confidence in my voice that only existed because I knew he’d earned it.

Then he hit record.

The phone’s red light blinked to life.

Zayne came to me slowly, shedding his jacket and shirt along the way. He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself behind me, lips tracing the base of my neck while his hands explored—fingers dragging over scars and muscle like he was mapping a holy text.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured, brushing my hair away to kiss behind my ear.

“You have footage to prove it now,” I teased, letting my back arch against him.

“I’m filming you,” he whispered, one hand sliding down my side, “but I’m watching you. Every breath. Every twitch. Every sound.”

I moaned softly as his hands moved with intent, tugging at the waistband of my pants. I lifted my hips for him without being asked, and he slid them down, slow and reverent.

I felt as his hand slid over my underwear, in a teasing circle motion as he explored my clit as if he didn’t know it by memory. I could feel his gaze on my face even when I had my eyes closed. 

“Zayne-” I whimpered “this is very cinematic but do not tease me” i said as i tried to grind my hips against his hand.

He looked up at me with that devil-smile, his hand just barely brushing the inside of my thigh as I tried to grind down against him, desperate for more friction, more anything. His other hand steadied me at the hip.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, voice dripping with mock thoughtfulness. “The lighting’s perfect, the framing’s tight... Seems like I’m building some narrative tension.”

“Zayne,” I warned, breath catching as he pressed one finger just where I needed him, not moving, only resting there like a promise.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing the inside of my knee, trailing kisses up, up, closer. “Say please.”

I narrowed my eyes—but there was heat pooling low in my stomach, tightening with every second he made me wait. I bucked my hips again, and he held me firmer this time, still teasing, still watching me unravel.

The red recording light blinks steadily beside us.

“Please,” I whispered.

That was all he needed.

His fingers moved, slow and deliberate at first: rubbing gentle, lazy circles that made me gasp and arch into his touch. He watched me like he was watching the sky crack open: eyes wide, lips parted, ruined by the way I fell apart under him.

“There she is,” he murmured, pressing harder. “God, you’re so responsive. Look at you—fuck, you’re gorgeous like this.”

He proceeded to take off my jeans and underwear, still sitting behind me. He began playing with one of my nipples as the other hand he began tenting me with the idea of fingering.

“Would this be fine?” he whispered as he kissed my neck.

“Guess” I said annoyed as I closed my eyes shut and placed my head on his shoulder. He giggled and introduced two fingers with all the gentleness in the world. “Zayne, fuck you” I said annoyed with his unusual sweetness. 

He laughed as if I had said the best joke in the world to then begin thrusting his fingers inside my pussy with no mercy. 

“M-much better,” I moaned, breath hitching as his fingers curled just right inside me.

Zayne’s chest rumbled with another laugh, and he pressed his mouth to the spot just beneath my ear, kissing slow and wet while his fingers picked up a punishing rhythm.

“Thought you liked when I’m sweet,” he teased, voice low and warm, still pumping his fingers in and out of me with obscene slick sounds. “You were getting all cuddly on me two seconds ago.”

“I like when you fuck me properly,” I snapped, grinding down onto his hand, chasing every pulse of pleasure that sparked through my spine.

“God, you’re insatiable,” he groaned, biting down gently on my neck as his palm ground against my clit with every thrust. My head rolled back onto his shoulder again, surrendering completely to the feeling of him playing me like he knew this body.

I barely noticed his free hand reaching toward the phone, adjusting the angle slightly.

“You wanna watch this later?” he whispered, eyes flicking toward the screen. “Wanna see yourself falling apart on my fingers?”

My answer came in the form of a moan.

Zayne's fingers sped up, and I could feel it coming—the tightening, the rush of heat from the base of my spine curling forward like a wave about to crest. He knew it too. He always knew.

“Let go, love,” he murmured, breath hot on my cheek. “C’mon, show the camera how fucking gorgeous you are when you come.”

And I did.

With a gasp, I came hard around his fingers, thighs trembling, back arching against his chest. My body jolted with every aftershock, helpless and wrung out and still hungry.

Zayne kissed my cheek as he slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them up to his lips with a pleased hum. “Perfect,” he whispered. “Every damn part of you.”

He then moved to place me laying on the bed, with him sitting by my side with a gentle smile as he stared over me at my naked body. He then leaned down to kiss my neck as he removed his trousers and undergarments.

“My love…” He purred as his two hands grabbed my tits. “Any position you would prefer in moments like this?”

“Y-yeah” I moaned as I turned so my back was facing him and I was on all fours, my face perfect for the camera to record every expression. I lifted my ass off the bed and smiled at him.

Zayne groaned behind me like he was in pain, his restraint fraying fast. I heard the rustle of fabric, the zipper coming down, the soft slap of skin as he palmed himself, watching me from behind with fire in his eyes.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re killing me.”

“Then come here and die properly,” I purred, tilting my hips back toward him.

He lined himself up, the head of his cock brushing against my entrance, teasing just like before—but this time, it was different. There was no pause, no slow build. Just a growled curse and then,

He slammed into me.

I gasped, fingers digging into the sheets, and feeling as his hand forced my head into the bed, feeling me in one deep, brutal thrust. My body rocked forward, then back again, already clenching around him, desperate for the friction, the stretch, the everything.

Zayne’s chest was pressed over my back, one hand on my head and the other on my hip: the pads of his thumb pressing into the dip of my lower back as he pulled out nearly all the way and then snapped his hips forward again.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, breath ragged. “Face in the camera while I fuck you stupid?”

I moaned—loud, needy—and nodded, not trusting my voice. His rhythm picked up, relentless, perfect. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, mixing with my cries and his gritted curses.

Every thrust pushed me forward into the mattress, and I could feel the heat from the phone capturing every expression.

“You should see yourself,” he groaned, leaning forward to bite down on my shoulder. “The way your eyes roll back when I hit that spot—fuck, like that—”

He angled his hips just right and I screamed his name, my entire body tightening. His grip on my hips turned bruising, grounding me as he drove into me again and again, chasing that edge with sharp, focused need.

“Touch yourself,” he demanded, voice nearly breaking. “Wanna see you come like this.”

I obeyed instantly, one hand snaking between my thighs, fingers working my clit as the pressure built fast. Zayne’s thrusts grew erratic behind me, and I could feel how close he was, how much he was holding back to let me break first.

And then I did.

I came hard, thighs shaking, back arching as I cried out into the mattress, voice wrecked and high and full of his name.

He moved gently from me, grabbing the phone to stop recording and then came back to the bed. He gently picked my trembling body and laid me against him. I opened my eyes as he cradled me into his chest.

I felt as his thumb caressed my cheek sweetly, a big contrast with the way in which he was fucking me seconds before.

“Hi love” he whispered softly 

“That was amazing-” I gasped as I leaned to kiss him. 

“It was” he said, quickly separating his lips from mine. “If you ever want round 2…”

“Why not now?” I said with a smile.

“Oh you greedy little thing” he said mischievously as he teased me one more time.

taglist: @mitskunicheesecake @puppy-steve @milknbagels @alexialvarez-11 @d4-ducks @xanxann01 @plzdonutpercieveme @namjoons-toenails @raendarkfaerie @shinyfestmilkshake @hisscenery @taronyuhunter @gawa-ng-gabi @cynireththorne @zaynescaleb

[rzbrain]

always watching

anton x reader | nav

cw: obsessive & perverted behavior , hidden camera , suggestive

you loved sending your boyfriend memes that came across as you being obsessive. you mostly sent them as jokes but also as a way to show him just how much you loved him.

he enjoyed them. reading them made his head dizzy and he began to wonder if you were just as crazy about him as he was about you.

there was one specific image you had sent that etched into anton's mind.

« me watching him through the teddy bear i gave him »

it sat in his brain for weeks and he tried his hardest to not let it give him ideas. to not give into his thoughts.

-

anton went to visit you at your shared apartment. he hadn't seen you in a few days and his body craved your presence. he didn't show up empty handed though.

“aw, this is so cute!” your smile beamed as you held the small stuffed animal in your hands , turning it around at different angles to see all the small details.

“i saw it and i instantly thought of you.” his eyes flickered between you and the small lamb.

you loved the contrast of it's black beaded eyes from the white fur. your eyes fell on it's eyes again and you giggled. “you're not going to watch me through this , are you?” you joked , flashing your teeth with a grin.

his tongue pressed into the inside of his cheek as he rolled his shoulders back , amused by the question.

“i don't need to. i already hid a camera inside your room long ago.”

you scoffed and gave his cheek a quick peck. “thank you , toni.”

later that night , you had placed it right on top of your dresser that was directly in front of your bed. it well matched with the white paint on the wooden furniture , even if the shades of white were different.

you put it in the most perfect spot ever. right where anton see your every move inside that room. every chance he got , he'd check his app and see what you were up to.

he'd watch you change , sleep , color , and everything else you had done in the privacy of your own room.

he did wish that you would carry the toy around with you more often but he knew that was unreasonable. he just wanted to know what you were up to 24/7.

one particular night, you had trouble falling asleep. you tossed and turned yet no position helped you.

you were going to have to help yourself.

fingers shoved beneath your shorts , mouth covered by your free hand so you wouldn't make any noises for your roommates to hear.

your moment was interrupted when you heard your phone ring. you checked the contact name it was no other than your loving boyfriend.

you sat up , removing your hands from your body as you covered yourself with your blanket.

“toni?” “is something wrong?”

he seemed to be slightly out of breath. “n-no.” “jus' missed you.” he managed. “c'mon... i wanna hear your voice.”

“are you working out right now?” you innocently asked and you heard him grunt.

“ha... i am.” “please. just keep talking.”

slightly thrown off by his behavior , you blinked a few times but obliged anyway.

“i made plans to go out with my friends tomorrow ,” you began to tell him about what the plans entailed and what you planned on wearing. his heavy breaths continued throughout the call.

seems like your boyfriend was working out really hard.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

This one is a bit wired but oh well. How would yarnaby react to a reader who's not all there. Would he wanaby our friend?

Ps. I'm so sorry for the pun

This ended up being way more detailed than intended. But, like, in a good way. My brain went on a little adventure while writing! Probably because this is the first Yarnaby request I've gotten.

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

This would take place after catnap breaks you, for reference.

Yarnaby & Player who's not all there

He didn't harm the Player, not because he didn't want to, but because you kept getting away. The first time Doey distracted him. Second time, you hid and ran when the coast was clear. The third time was on purpose. An active attempt to come back for him. With Sawyer dead, there's no reason to leave him behind.

Maybe what compelled you to go back for him was the same thing that made you return to the factory. Or perhaps it was the guilt over leaving him alone. Either way you tried to help him. For days, you checked in on him. You even brought Yarnaby food. Though it wasn’t much. Just some scraps you got from a dead toy. Half-rotten and questionably edible. The poor thing must have been starving.

Yarnaby didn’t attack, He stood frozen, sniffing the air with a cautious tilt of his head. Unsure of you. When you tossed the meat toward him, he lunged. Not at you, but at the food. Scarfing it down with no reservations. "You’re a big, fluffy nightmare. You know that?" You say to Yarnaby, while standing a safe distance away.

★ He grew less hostile with each visit. Doey would never let him inside the Safe Haven for obvious reasons. So instead, Yarnaby keeps by the sewers. Wandering about and scaring off the less-tame mini toys. Bringing you carcasses like a cat giving its owner a dead mouse.

★ Congratulations! You're now Yarnaby's wrangler! This position includes cleaning up after him, treating the cuts and scrapes left by the Doctor, playing with his fluff and being knocked to the ground by him.

★ When you have a bad day he’ll nudge you with his massive head, knocking you down like a house of cards. Once you’re down, he plops himself right on top of your lap. Leaving you no choice but to pet him. Yarnaby knows exactly what he's doing.

★ You two are very alike. Both Yarnaby and the Player have been broken down by the factory. Yarnaby lost his humanity and rational thought. You, on the other hand, lost the ability to trust your own mind. Both are bad, but he has it worse.

★ The Player starts treating Yarnaby like an oversized pet. feeding him scraps of food, combing his mane and talking to him like he understands. “Yarnaby, do you see that person, too? Blink twice if you do… Wait, you can’t blink. Great. Guess we'll never know.”

[easyboyrecliner]

GRAVITY FALLS DR. it’s a full moon outside, the weirdos are out.

edit: this is a introduction on me and who I am in my dr , like a more detailed one

ACT I. THE RANCHERS DAUGHTER

JOLYNE MORGAN, is the only daughter of arthur morgan and his now ex-wife, mary morgan (née linton). proud dog, cat, geese and duck owner and the queen of existential dread. She is the living embodiment of the word awkwardness. (but more on that later)

it was clear from a young age that jolyne was going to be: one, a talented actress. she displayed great skills since kindergarten, where plays around christmas was a tradition. jolyne made many parents cry with her portrayal of mary (though it has to be noted that jolyne always knew that she was hellenic polyethic. greek mythology just spoke to her in a way that no other religion could’ve). or secondly: jolyne would maybe die (not literally speaking) of social anxiety around the age of twenty one. she hates talking to strangers and standing in front of her class presenting. yet she may choose acting as her future career path? or she will become a rancher. or a second anna wintour. depends on her mood really-

jolyne loved animals, from a young age. she had many pets. when uncle dutch and hosea had gifted her bunnies, she was the happiest five year old on earth. those two bunnies, snape and hermione, passed a year later due to a storm. they had a heartattack due to the intensity of the storm. so dutch opted for…geese and ducks. jolyne was happy again. around that time she began to name them after gods. culture didn’t matter, her first few ducks were named after japanese and chinese gods.

she was…a very shy child. when jack marston was born, two years after her, and their parents made them interact jolyne mostly hid behind mary’s leg. the adults laughed, mostly because it was cute. and eventually jolyne and jack became friends, it just took a long while. they shared one same interest…loving comically bad movies. and they bonded over their love for blade (the movie that saved marvel and convinced jolyne that children of aphrodite were real). but well jack could never replace her beloved ashley & crouton. whose parents worked on the ranch and pretty much were a big part in jolyne’s upbringing.

as for her part on the ranch…she mostly tended the animals. too young to do any harsh work and she hated the trucks. jolyne loved the ranch. it was big, a beautiful mountain laid behind the house. a forrest was nearby, where a lake with water as clear as the sky hid. mary would often scold her for sneaking out there with jack and eventually her friends from school.

II. SAINT CAELISTIS

saint caelistis is an elite boarding school for rich kids and nepobabies in montana. jolyne of course attended that school and discovered many things about herself.

firstly; that she absolutely hated math. her brain wasn’t build for it. her brain was build for english, history, philosophy and art. languages! afterall she was in the german, italian & french course! where she discovered that grammar isn’t her strong suit. but nonetheless she remained top in her class (behind jessica and dehavir).

secondly; that’d she’d kill for her friends. not literally though. her friends mostly consist of her class (they were stuck with the same people from grade 5 to 12th, sounds like hell but yk…) and her class was crazy. their class teacher (yk the one who organizes everything) was herr müller. his patience did run thin occasionally, but he loves them. jolyne has many friends, including @miainbetween & @briiverse. (a proper introduction of said friendgroup will follow. the crazy things they did will maybe be discussed)

and jolyne discovered her hatred for rich kids who are stuck up in their own ego and wealth of their parents. she has a lot of beef with certain students who she swore to never think of again.

but hey at least she went to school in the 2000s. the memories were great, as were the clothes and the general vibe.

III. WHO IS JOLYNE?

what defies her? she is the daughter of legendary arthur morgan. she is the daughter who forgets to wear her glasses and runs around slightly blind. actress who stared in the hades game: she voiced dusa. the head maid, floating gorgon head. deeply honored, she surprisingly didn’t manage to flunk it. well dusa’s nervous nature was based off of that of jolyne….

but well, jolyne is best described as shy and awkward. she laughs or giggles at the worst moments known to man and blushes. pretends it never happened and looks suspiciously interested in the nearest object. her brows scrunched together when she is in deep thought. she is best described as sweet, shy, and sympathetic. she is known to be kindhearted, an example being when she assists stan or her dad with carrying stuff.

jolyne loves with all of her heart. she gets hurt easily, acts tuff but if you truly know her you can tell she is sad. just the mere thought of her animals dying gets her crying in no time. and if she loves someone (platonically or romantically) there will be signs, she is all out for gifts and words of affirmation. since she loves her friends so much she is often seen “flirting” with ashley, briana, maria & sebastian. it’s mostly meant as a joke, but oh boy do people take it seriously some time…

she is also a great company and likes to share gossip in her free time. jolyne knows the hottest gossip, mostly because people suspect her to not care? or just because she looks so “innocent?”. but she is never able to express her feelings due to her mildly-strong social anxiety. jolyne is not good at hiding things and can speak without filters. she can’t lie with a straight face and gets defensive really quickly.

her hobbies consists of dancing, acting, drawing, baking & fencing. she also tends the animals at the farm. ghost hunting is also a hobby that counts? she befriends the ghosts…? jolyne is pretty skilled with guns, a trait she inherited from her father. she hates singing, but can sing. just occasionally when the time is right (aka a musical night!). surprisingly hates studying & sometimes she might come across as antisocial when she prefers to work alone on projects. though it’s only because she knows her friends will distract her. but jolyne can overwork her to appease others.

theres too many things that she likes & hates. it is really too much. but know that she loves the princess bride, dirty dancing & moulin rouge. her favorite movies ever. music taste? classical music, she loves waltzes, the Bloodborne soundtrack & type o negative if she watched constantine again. her humor is…something. it’s deadpan, sarcastic & very on the nose.

NEXT UP —>. meet the headaches

her kins:

ash from the mr. fantastic fox movie.

tsukimi kurashita from princess jellyfish.

luna lovegood.

silvermist

and

dusa from hades.

playlist (made by ashley & sylvester) :

summerboy ; lady gaga

hello hello ; elton john & lady gaga

sugar, sugar ; the archies

cinnamon girl ; type o negative

let’s go to bed ; the cure

secret ; the pierces

holding out for a hero ; frou frou

taglist: @katmikaelsendevotee , @salemisha , @snoopysites , @sozhuo , @realitycanbewhateveridesire , @ladigube , @rumitome , @s1ckatheart

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain. abuse is depicted in this one right off the bat,ptsd/nightmares, panty sniffing, face sitting, over stim, biting, squirting, i think our wolf just hates us okay? because everytime i write her, she comes out so mean.

please click this link! each click helps me earn some extra money, as well as each person that clicks the link and signs up (its completely free, and takes 0 time), a completely harmless way to earn some extra cash that doesn't involve giving me any of your own!

happy new years :) feel free to send thots/ideas to my inbox for these babes (or even for the other 141 fellas)

series masterlist here.

PART THREE: hurts si’

“You dumb bitch, look what you did!” Glass clattered and a hand made contact with your face, causing something to drop from your hands as they flew to your face for protection, a whimper leaving your puckered lips as sharp shards scatter about the ground and imbed in the skin of your legs, stinging. “Are you fuckin’ dropping shit now? Huh?” Another blow, this one landing on your ear, causing it to ring and your eyes to blur for a moment as you wobbled on the balls of your feet, swaying from side to side. The man yelling at you was larger than you, older. His breath was hot and sour as he screamed in your face, his words sounding a million miles away as you tried to focus. What had you done this time? It wasn’t you that had knocked over the glass of water..you weren’t even near that side of the table..it was all your brother, all the boy who sat and watched as your father threatened to beat you black and blue again for something that you didn’t do. 

The ringing becomes too much, you fall to your knees and groan, head pounding and eyesight blurry, you barely notice the shards of whatever dish had fallen from your hands pushing further into the skin of your shins as you sink to the rough wood floor of the kitchen. 

“...OFF THE FUCKING FLOOR, OMEGA!” He screamed, your hearing seeming to come back around, or maybe he just bellowed loud enough to overpower the ringing..you shook violently, fear and pain ringing through your body as he grabbed you by the hair on your scalp, dragging you across the ground, pushing the sharp bits of glass deeper into your skin..you would have to go digging to get them out now..

“No!NO! Papa, Papa please!” Your voice was frantic, shrill eyes wide as they finally focused enough to comprehend where he was pulling you off to, the familiar dingey wooden door of your own personal hell hole coming into sight. You’d only just been allowed out after..you couldn’t even remember how long..long enough that the days blurred together and you couldn’t tell how many tomorrows had come and passed. “No! I’ll be good, i’ll be good!” You clawed at his arm above you, trying desperately to pry his alpha strength off of your head, kicking your legs in an effort to slow him down, to buy yourself enough time to talk him out of it. 

“There’s no such thing as a good Omega, you’re living proof!” He growls, throwing open the deadbolt to the door before swinging it open. The darkness awaiting you seemed thicker than usual. “You all deserve to be punished! To be hid, to be locked away and never looked at again! You deserve to be treated like the runts and vermin you fucking are! Your mother tricked me into thinking that she was sweet and innocent, that she needed me to protect her, to fill her with little alpha pups, and then she gave me you! And then you killed her when you breathed life and stole hers, and i saw you for what you are, nothing but a conniving, evil monster!” He held your hair tightly at the top of the stairs, forcing you to look up into his eyes as he ranted at you, for something that you didn’t even remember. Weren’t capable of remembering..

He raised you off of your feet and your eyes widened, a shrill plea leaving your chest “NO, NO! N-AHHGH!”

Simon lay in bed, hands balled into fists behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, the moon dancing across it as it shined through his window, jaw clenched as he listened to you whimper and moan through the thin wall separating your room from his. His senses were on high alert, his wolf haywire in his mind. It took every ounce of self control he had not to jerk off to the smell of you, once he started he knows he probably wouldn’t ever stop, not until he’d had the real thing and not just the thought of you. He knew that his cock was probably going to be perpetually hard now, never going to go down until he’d stuffed the meaty length of it into your sweet smelling cunt, not until he’d fucked it good and stuffed it full of his pups would he even be able to think like a normal alpha again. 

The smell of you was intoxicating. It flooded his senses and over powered his mind. You were sweet smelling, decadent he could even say. He had noted it before you’d been in heat but now that you were, even in just the beginning stages, it was more powerful, more endearing and mouth watering. It was enough to make a man forget how to behave. It was enough to drive an Alpha into delirium, to trigger his own rut. 

He grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to think about anything other than you, shoving a knife into someone's chest, pizza and a cheap pint, johnny- no! Not that scottish prick! His wolf howled and he grunted, fisting his own hair just to feel something to keep himself grounded. Johnny wouldn’t shut his trap, his intrusive thoughts and his lack of a thought process allowing him to just blurt out how good you smelled, he could just hear his voice in his head, could hear him “Bet that lit’le cunt is nie’ n warm, wet ‘n sloppy, eh LT? Smells like a fookin’ dream..” He was just shooting up in bed with a growl at imaginary Johnny when your scream pierced his ears, his bedroom door slammed against the wall, ricocheting as he busted through yours after flying down the hallway, practically ripping it off of its hinges. He looked around wildly, looking for any sign of an intruder, ready to fight off some stray Alpha or Beta that might have followed your pheromones from town in hopes of mating and breeding you against your will in the middle of the night. 

He saw nobody, saw nothing but you thrashing wildly in the middle of the king sized bed you had built your nest upon, spotting the hoodie he’d shrugged off of his body and laid in the middle of your spot while you took a hot bath earlier in the day, satisfied that he could leave you alone with something to scent to help calm you down. He had paid enough attention in Omega anatomy class to remember that that was something that you guys craved, and just the scent of a strong Alpha could help ease the pain wrought by your heat. You were in pain, he decided, that was why you had screamed as you had, there was nothing for him to protect you from, nothing for him to keep you safe from in your vulnerable state. 

He had just wrestled his wolf back from the forefront of his mind and was slowly backing away from your bed and back towards the hallway when you let loose another scream, this one was one of pure terror. You were sat straight up in bed, his fight or flight triggered, he throws himself at you, wrapping his arms around you as he throws you back down, tucking you into his body as he looses a mean growl, baring his teeth as he looked all about, trying to find what you were so terrified of. 

“No!NO!” You screamed, thrashing and bucking under him, your eyes squeezed shut. He looks down at you, wolf going crazy. “Help her! HELP HER YOU BIG DUMB OAF CAN’T YOU SEE SHE’S SCARED?!” His wolf whimpered, howled, only making Simon’s heart race more as he tried to form a coherent thought. 

“Rosie..” He grunted, patting your face lightly,  still clutching you to his body as best as he could, legs on either side of you as he hovered over you on the bed. “Rosie, lovie, wake up-wake up, lovie..” He patted your face, again, a little harder this time and your eyes finally fluttered, looking up at him. 

“S’mon?” You whispered, hands clutching the chest of his tank top from where your arms were trapped between the both of your bodies, unable to move with his weight pressed against yours. “Had a bad dream..”

He sighs, head leaning down so his forehead is touching yours, noses brushing against each other. “I know, lovie, i know.” He says after a moment, shifting his body so that you’re laying on top of him, using his chest and shoulders as a pillow, legs entwined with his own. All thoughts of breeding you gone and out the window for now, his only thought and instinct to keep you safe. “Not goin’ anywhere okay? Gonna stay right 

‘ere an’ keep you safe..” 

And he did, letting you doze back off on top of him, his mind still reeling as he tried to imagine exactly what had happened in that head of yours to make you scream with such terror, to have you so scared that he could feel your body shaking. He wanted, no he needed to know so that he could make sure you were never scared of it again. So he could take it and obliterate it for ever making you feel anything but safe under the same roof as him. 

Eventually, his wolf and his mind calmed down and he was able to lull himself into a light sleep of his own, his arms not moving from around you. 

You wake to a warmth spread from your head to your toes, a dampness to your skin that had you wriggling out of your sleep shirt with eyes closed still, not registering the soft body beneath you until you went to plop your head back down and it didn’t sink into the soft down of your pillow, but the scraggly hairs of a muscular, wide chest that was poking out of the top of a gray tank top, the kind a man would wear under his tshirt if he wanted the extra layers, or sleep in, you supposed. You knew immediately that it was Simon and as if on cue your wolf fought her way to to the front of your mind, your aching cunt clenching around nothing but your sopping panties as you realized that your mound wasn’t too far from where his cock would be, your leg thrown over his waist, held there by one of his large, meaty hands gripping your equally meaty thigh. 

“Look at him, our pretty Alpha..so handsome, so strong..” She wasn’t wrong, he was pretty. His skull mask was nowhere to be found, and to say it was strange to not see it adorned on his face would be an understatement, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. “Want to give him pretty little pups, let him fill us, please, please, please! I’ll be so good! I promise!” You groan, trying to shut her voice out, though it was hard to do. At this stage, your mind belonged to her, this was her time, and you had always let it be, but you hadn’t had an Alpha home during your heat in..awhile. 

You let your eyes roam over his face for a while, failing to notice the way his breathing changes as he fully wakes up, aware of your gaze. He has such a strong jaw, a strong, handsome face, sweet looking even, you would say, despite the scars lingering along his pale skin. Your lips quiver at the realization that someone had probably put them there and that thought alone made you want to cry because how could anyone ever want to hurt this perfect specimen of an alpha? His nose is terribly crooked, as if it had been broken on more than one occasion..you would know, yours had been broken at least three times that you remembered. You wanted to sit on it. To feel his nose brush against your aching, throbbing clit, to feel his scruff of a beard that had grown over night against the apex of your thighs, leaving beard burn as he fucks you with his wet, strong tongue. 

You don’t notice that your hips are bucking against the side of his hard stomach, don’t realize you’ve whimpered until his hand squeezes your thigh, fingers marking the skin from the way that he grips at it, brown eyes suddenly shot open and staring you down, full lips tugged into a wicked smirk. 

“Easy there, babygirl..” He grunts, voice thick and raspy after not having used it for a bit. 

You pout at his words,  wolf whimpering. The desperate noise leaves your throat and you feel no shame as your hips buck again, needing the friction. 

“Hurts Si’..” You whimper, not giving a damn to ask why he was in your bed in the first place. You remembered having a nightmare, remembered him vaguely waking you from it. You assume he had stayed to make sure you were okay. “Need you..need you to help me, Simon..please?” 

He closes his own eyes at your words, fingers digging further into the fat of your thigh, as if he’s trying to control himself. You don’t want him to, you want hm to lose control, to use you in any way he saw fit, you wouldn’t fight him, would be as pliable for him as you could possibly be, you just wanted to breathe in his scent, suck his cock into your aching pussy for a bit..like a chew toy for the wolf taking over your mind. 

You can’t help but to giggle for a second at the thought, you couldn’t help but to think that his cock was probably big enough to pose as a chew toy anyway, no way you could get your mouth all the way around it if he let suck it. 

“Rosi-”

“Simonnn” You preen, pouting at him and you can just feel the resolve break. Oh! What a good Alpha, not making us beg! “Please help me..hurts..need you so bad..please!”

A growl bubbles in his chest and you could how in excitement knowing you’ve won, “Fine!” Knowing he’s about to bully his cock into your cunt until he’s had his fill, until you’re crying and begging him for more, until he’s knocked you up good with one of his little blonde pups- “But i’m not going to fuck you,” A whine as you pout and you watch his eyes widen, watch him fight with himself for a second as he shakes his head, as if shutting up that voice that you  know he hears too. “No-don’t do that babygirl..You listen to me now.” The sternness in his voice catches your attention, your cunt pulsing at the way it radiates through you. “I want to fuck you so bad, lovie, want to sit you on my cock for fuckin’ hours, believe me, it’s all ‘ve been able to think about since I walked into that garden..but I can’t do it when you’re not all the way there, when you’re delirious in heat..” A pout that damn near breaks him, that definitely breaks the wolf in his head, howling ricocheting in his ears as he tries to talk. “I’m going to fuck you, lovie, but not until your heat is done, yeah? Don’t worry babygirl, m’still gonna help you though, know it hurts, baby, know you need my help..” 

You hadn’t realized he had bunched the waistband of your panties in his hand until then, letting go of your thigh to pull at the seam of the fabric, ripping it apart and tugging it from your mound. You watch with wide eyes as he brings the soaked cotton to his crooked nose, closing his eyes as he takes a long sniff, a deep growl radiating through the room as he opens his eyes, staring straight into yours as his fist clenches around your panties. 

“Cm’ere, babygirl.” He grunts, pulling at you so that you’re sitting directly on his chest, pussy leaving a wet swatch in his chest hairs as he squeezes both hips. “Wanna sit on my face, don’t you? Saw the way you were looking at me, know just what you were thinkin’ huh?” You nod your head, but make no move to actually do it. You’re so big? What if you suffocate him? Bitch shut the fuck up and let him eat your fucking pussy, you whiney brat! He’s a big boy, he can fucking take it! You had the random thought that your wolf might actually try and kill you if you didn’t let her enjoy this, if you didn’t swallow your self conscious thoughts and let this glorious man eat you for breakfast. “Aht-aht, stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking-” He pulls your hips so you’re sitting just below his neck now, your hands immediately catching yourself on the headboard, preventing him from pulling you up past his chin. He narrows his eyes at you, you see him shake his head, the firm line his plus lips are set in. A warning to behave and let him be in control. “Don’t-you want this, don’t you..want me to help you? Need me to make it better?” 

“Pleas-ungh” In a show of pure strength, he has you fully sat on his face before you can finish the word, warm, thick tongue devouring you as swirls it around your clit, you can’t help the rock of your hips or the way your head throws back as you moan when his tongue teases your aching whole, nose rubbing against your clit the way you imagined it when you tilted your hips. 

He groans beneath you, hands splayed on your bare ass cheeks, holding you in place as he grips so hard you’re sure his fingerprints will be permanently indented into your skin, not that you think you’d really mind it. “That’s it lovie, ride my face..”

You didn’t have to be told twice now that you had started. The way his tongue worked you open, the way he held you in place but still let you rut your hips against his face, making a slimy, glistening mess..his stubble brushed against your inner thighs, keeping you grounded from coming on the spot, though it doesn’t last for long. He’s got you coming within moments, skilled tongue going between clit and your pulsing hole, giving you what you needed as you rocked back and forth, taking what you wanted. “Tha’s a good girl, lovie..give me one more?” 

You’re not sure how many ‘one more’s’ you give him, but by the time he’s got you on the brink of over stimulation, he’s got his whole tongue buried in your hole, his teeth nibbling at your clit as you buck and tremble, tears brimming your eyes as you grip his hair in each hand, tugging harshly. His hands pushed up your shirt, exposing your soft, pudgy belly to him as he squeezed your tits in each of his large palms, fingers playing with your nipples as he fucks you with his mouth, cries and whimpers leaving your own. 

“Si-oh-mm, please! I can-so good, feel’s so good!” You’re a babbling mess, cheeks red as your thighs shake, still clenched around his head. He’s been at it for almost an hour and you swear he’s barely come up from air, he’s barely let you move off of his face for more than a moment, his mouth leaving your cunt only to praise you or bite into meat of your thighs, leaving a harsh imprint of his mouth, a reminder that this is in fact real. You’re on the brink of another when you realize that this one feels different, feels almost painful, even. “Si-mo-n, si-ugh-umf..hur-urts…” You screech out, swatting at the top of his head, he only grunts, pulling you down farther onto his mouth, his hands going back to grip your tighs, leaving your precious tits unattended as he does, holding you there as he brings another harsh bite to your clit, sending you over the edge. “Simon!” You shout, vision going blurry as something snaps in your lower belly, a gush of fluid coming from your cunt that has your cheeks heating as Simon groans out below you, lapping it up as quickly as it comes out, slurping even as he continues to make out with your pussy as you slouch against the headboard, being sure to avoid your overly sensitive clit as he does, leaving open mouthed kisses to your mound that honestly could have had you coming again if you weren’t entirely fucked out just from his mouth. How many was that? Five? Six? 

“You okay up there babygirl?” His voice is thick and raspy, sexy as he peeks up at you from between your still shaking legs. All you can do is nod meekly, unsure of what to say, mind oddly quiet as you pant out breaths, trying to come down from such an epic high. “Squirted al’over me lovie, legs are still shakin’” He’s chuckling at you, big warm hands rubbing your thighs in an effort to soothe the shaking. 

“M’sleepy, si’” You whimper out, still sagged against the headboard, mind gone numb, legs gone soft, heat and wolf satiated for the time being. 

“Yeah?” He asks, voice soft as he sits up slowly, sliding you down his body. Your clit catches on his chest hairs and the fabric of his now soaked tank top on the way down and your hips jumps, your whimper ringing out as he shushes you, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. “Need’ta nap baby?” 

Your eyes are already closing before you can get the words out, before you can even nod your head, you barely register the way his lips kiss the side of your head as he leans back with you in his arms, the way his scent floods your senses, easing you into an easy slumber, as if that had been his plan all along. The last thing you remember before sleep takes you completely is wondering what the hell you had gotten yourself into with him..

taglist: @wise-owl @bingoz @astrxsee @gazsluckyhat @howlerwolfmax @thisbitch-6 @littlelovebug98 @ungodlydilf @madsothree

[dollfacefantasy]

Cool Rider

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets you ready for a ride on his motorcycle

word count: 1.4k

a/n: just a little fluff drabble i've been thinking about while i go back and forth on my other longer fics. imagine this to be a little bit after vendetta when leon's starting to get better. hope everyone enjoys, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

“Quit joking around or you’re not going anywhere,” Leon grunts as he continues to mess around with the tire pressure on the rear wheel of his motorcycle.

“I’m just saying-” you chime before being cut off.

“You’re saying nothing more or I’m changing my mind,” he says and gives you a warning look.

Despite his attempt at being stern with you, affection clouds his eyes. You play along for him and mime zipping your lips. With a sharp exhale and shake of his head at your antics, he returns his focus to fidgeting with the pressure gauge hooked to his bike. But you’re happy just because you saw him smile.

You’d been begging him for months to take you for a ride on his bike. Every time you’d asked, you were met with “no” or “in your dreams.” You’d always ask him why, and he’d just brush it off. Too dangerous. It’s something he does alone. You eventually just gave up. He deserved his space, and you knew he’d seen so much pain and death in his life that he was probably a little overprotective by nature. It came as an absolute shock to you when he approached you last week and asked if you’d wanna go for a ride this weekend. He’d said it so casually, like he hadn’t shot you down time after time before. You weren’t sure what had changed, but a win is a win, right?

Now sitting on the stool by the bench where he kept all his motorcycle stuff, you swing your feet back and forth. As much as you’d been teasing him for the last thirty minutes about taking forever and a half, it was fun seeing him so locked in on his task. You studied his face, the way his brows furrowed and his eyes hardened, his lips curling a little with dedication.

“Hey stalker girl, instead of staring me down, maybe you should finish getting ready,” he teases as he finishes up and starts putting the tools away.

“I am ready,” you say.

“No you’re not. Where’s your helmet?” he asks while walking to you.

“Mmmm… you don’t wear a helmet,” you playfully point out.

You were just being difficult because he was so easy to mess with. You weren’t dumb, and you had no desire for your brains to splatter across some pavement. In general, motorcycles kind of scare you to be honest. If anyone but Leon was driving it, you wouldn’t even consider hopping on the back. So there was absolutely no way you were gonna get on that thing without a helmet strapped on.

“I didn’t ask you if I wear one. Where’s yours?” he says.

He stands between your thighs and looks down at you, taking in your pretty eyes, pouty lips, the face he couldn’t get enough of. His fingers run along your jaw, his thumb stroking over your chin. Every detail had him enraptured. He made fun of you for staring, but truth be told, he was just as guilty. The only difference was he hid it much better than you did.

“I’ll get it in two seconds. You were just taking so long, I figured I had some time to relax,” you joke with a quick peck to his lips, hopping off your seat.

“You better get it. I want your pretty little head kept in one piece,” he murmurs and lays a kiss on your hairline. He lightly swats your ass as you walk away, drawing that laugh from you that he loved to hear. He’s smiling while grabbing the keys, not that you could see it with your back to him. You were easy to mess with too.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that I have to wear one if you don’t,” you say as you lift the helmet up and inspect the one he’d bought for you.

“Too bad. I know what I’m doing. You don’t. God forbid I actually let you do this, and you end up with a concussion or something,” he grumbles while grabbing the keys.

“If we get in a crash though, your experience won’t matter. We’ll both go flying all the same. Then you’ll be the one with the concussion or worse, and I’ll be flat outta luck having to take care of you,” you explain while fidgeting with the straps on the helmet.

“Here, gimme that,” he says, taking it from you. He fixes the straps and gets them where they should be. Yeah, you’re being intentionally stubborn, but you had a good point and he knew it. “If it’s so important to you, I can wear one too.”

“It is important to me. I always want you safe,” you say, taking a moment to be genuine between all your teasing.

“I know, baby,” he says softly. It’s all he could say. Obviously, with the life he had, he couldn’t “be safe” all the time. But god, you made him want to try.

He gives you one last kiss before putting the helmet on you. He fastens it into place, making sure it’s nice and tight. Tilting your head around, he inspects it thoroughly. Has to be certain this shell of hard plastic is gonna do its job and protect his precious girl. 

After he’s done examining the efficacy of the helmet, he pulls back to give you a once over. Really look at you.

“Does it look good?” you ask, voice slightly muffled.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, it looks good. Pretty cool,” he confirms.

Of course you looked more than good. The sight of you completely melted his heart. He just didn’t know how to say it. He’d never been too good with words when you were involved. You made everything foggy, hard to think.

He couldn’t see the grin on your face right now, but he could just about feel the excitement radiating off of you as you pulled him into a hug, the shiny dome covering your head resting over his heartbeat. His palm runs up and down your back before you pull away and head to the motorcycle.

“Are we ready to go?” you ask.

He could hear the anticipation in your voice too. It was infectious, made him want to get on and speed off without looking back. But he still had a little hesitation left. Rationally, he knew he’d done everything he could to make sure this would go smoothly. In all likelihood, you would just have some fun and then come back home and everything would be fine. The irrational part of him just wanted that to be 100% guaranteed. He’d lost so many people. He couldn’t survive losing you, especially to something as trivial as a motorcycle accident.

But he was stalling now, and he knew it. You deserved this. Deserved to have the fun he’d offered you. You’d been so good to him for the last several months, putting up with him when it would’ve been reasonable to leave him in your rearview mirror. He swallows his doubt and nods.

But as he sees you start to look at it like you’re gonna get on, he stops you.

“Wait a second,” he says, starting to shrug off his jacket, “It’s cold out, and with the wind and everything. Just put this on.”

He can’t see how you lovingly roll your eyes at this which is probably for the best anyways. Knowing him, he’d probably get all huffy and defensive about it. Argue the practicality of his decision rather than just admitting he’d gone soft for you.

Regardless, you let him wrap the leather around you, sliding your arms into the sleeves. You give him a thumbs up, and he pulls you close to him, thoughtlessly planting a smooch on the cool helmet like he’d normally do to your head.

“You better hold on tight. This isn’t a video game. You don’t get extra points for riding with no hands,” he teases before grabbing the extra helmet he had and putting it on.

This time you give a mock salute and watch him swing his leg over the seat. He waves you over and you gladly get on behind him. The warmth of your front presses against his back. He looks down, admiring the way your hands lock around his waist, your arms adorned in the white stripes of his jacket.

He wheels the bike out of the garage, taking a deep breath as checks to see that the street is clear. One more sigh and mental reassurance later, he’s speeding out onto the road. He knows it’s all worth it as soon as he hears your laughter and feels you clinging to him even harder.

[beckyninja]

Duty

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Nothing much this time, just angst

Description: As further opposition to the alliance between their peoples is revealed, Guilliman's betrothed finally opens up about her past.

Whew! With all the holiday craziness, I didn't think I'd get this posted today. Anyway, I hope you guys don't mind some lore. This is a sequel to Worthy, and a continuation of my Guilliman/Reader story. You can find the other stories in this series on my Masterlist.

In the all but empty Communications Center, Guilliman stared at the holographic image of Captain Takahashi. His Admechs and the Captain’s technicians had finally managed to cobble together an interphase between the two ships’ communications systems. Still, the Captain’s image flickered and lagged as she spoke.

“...have rooted out two more conspirators, Lord Guilliman. A pair of sanitation specialists. They attempted to take control of my ship’s steering mechanism.”

Guilliman clenched his gauntleted fist. “That makes seven attempts to date.”

“All of which we have discovered and stopped.”

“To your credit, Captain.”

The woman nodded curtly. “All the same, I agree it remains too dangerous to allow the Lady Heir to return on a permanent basis. Though, she will still need to send the first message to our homeworld once we are in range.”

“In two standard days.”

“Yes.”

Guilliman shook his head in wonder. Even in the time of the Great Crusade, such long range communication, without the aid of Astropaths, was more fantasy than reality. He added it to his mental list of technologies to acquire once the treaty was formalized.

“You will be sending the conspirators over for interrogation.”

The Captain’s eyes turned icy. “I will. Though I expect it will be more of the same.”

Guilliman scowled. During each interrogation, an implant of some kind had activated a small electromagnetic pulse within the prisoners’ brains, eradicating all higher functions. Only the first, the former Lord O’Rourke, had managed to give them any information before his unexpected lobotomy.

“Captain, you promised to clarify a few details from the first interrogation when last we spoke.”

For the first time, Captain Takahashi looked uneasy. Her eyes flickered behind Guilliman.

He understood. “Sicarius, await me outside. And see that none enter.”

He heard Cato’s teeth grinding as he obeyed.

“Forgive my hesitance, Lord Guilliman.” The Captain frowned. “But what I am about to reveal would no doubt be considered treasonous by my superiors.”

“I am grateful for your trust, Captain.”

Her frown softened. “I have come to believe we both have the Lady Heir’s best interests at heart.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “You told me how O’Rourke mentioned his orders came from a ‘prince’, someone he believed to be the true heir to our world.”

Guilliman nodded. He had long suspected your home to be less peaceful than you implied. Your obvious discomfort whenever the topic arose, the way you dodged the subject with the skill of an Aeldari warrior, and, of course, the continued sabotage attempts by your entourage did little to persuade him otherwise.

His logical mind knew the value of this alliance and the technology it would bring to the Imperium. But, in his deepest soul, none of that mattered. Someone was trying to take you from him. You. 

Only centuries of practice hid his churning rage.

The Captain continued. “As you know, our world is led by the Matriarch. She had three children, all who have since died. My Lady is the only child of her eldest and, under our laws, the Heir. But she has two cousins, the two princes.”

Guilliman’s lips twisted sardonically. He’d dealt with enough Imperial nobility to be more than aware of the twists and turns of dynastic politics. Part of him felt saddened at the thought that you came from a family afflicted with such foolishness.

And yet, he bit back a bitter laugh, was my own “family” so different?

“Her Grace has made no secret of her preference for my Lady’s eldest cousin. He is a charismatic young man, currently riding high on the glory of military success.” The Captain paused, looked uncertain, then continued. “In my opinion, Lord Guilliman, the Matriarch purposely isolated my Lady so she could not compete with her cousin’s popularity.” 

A shrewd move. Guilliman had to admit. 

No one who had ever met you and experienced your thoughtfulness and compassion could doubt your potential for popularity with the masses. How quickly you’d won the adoration of his own serfs proved that. Not to mention the progress you’d made among the Ultramarines.

“You think he is the ‘prince’ who gave O’Rourke his orders.”

The Captain frowned. “Possibly. The other option is the younger cousin. He’s rumored to be quite intelligent, but the Matriarch destined him for holy orders. He’s been sequestered in one of our scholastic monasteries since he came of age.”

Guilliman narrowed his eyes. “If dealing with my own Ecclesiarchy has taught me anything, it is that the lust for power can infect even the holiest-seeming priest.”

“Indeed.”

Guilliman stared through the Captain’s image, mind working. Too many variables. Not enough data.

“What do you believe, Captain?”

The Captain looked him in the eye. “Whoever gave the orders is irrelevant. I believe this mission was supposed to fail. All of us, myself, my crew, and the Lady Heir were supposed to die at Imperial hands.”

Yet again, Guilliman found himself impressed by this tiny baseline woman’s strength of will. “Thus removing the only obstacle to a prince’s rise to power, and ensuring your world’s continued isolation.”

“Yes.” The Captain’s lips lifted into a slight smile. “But no one back home foresaw this particular turn of events.”

Guilliman huffed a laugh. “Nor did anyone here.” His mirth was short-lived. “Once my betrothed sends her message, however, the game changes.”

“And all Void will break loose. She needs to be made aware.”

Therein lay the crux of the problem. How much did he tell you? How much did you already suspect?

“I agree.”

The Captain must have seen something in his face. “You said once that she’s stronger than she looks, Lord Guilliman. I assure you, it’s true.”

Strong in some ways, yes. But so, so fragile in others.

***

“Fascinating, Brother Tarchus. Remind me which section of the Codex that is again?” You smiled up at the Ultramarine, stylus and dataslate in hand.

“Certainly, my Lady. Chapter 647, Section F, Subsection B-14, Paragraph 54….” 

You scribbled frantically. “Ah, yes. Thank you. I have it now.” I think. “And why would you say this is your favorite passage?”

The giant warrior actually looked excited. “The minutiae of supply lines, especially to besieged worlds, is an excellent example of the importance of efficiency and practicality in uncertain circumstances.”

There. Something you could grasp. “The creation of order in the midst of anarchy?”

“Precisely.” You swore the Ultramarine almost smiled.

“In times of uncertainty, the order brought by the Ultramarines must be a great comfort to Imperial citizens.”

Tarchus cocked his head to one side. “I suppose that is one of the outcomes.”

“A beneficial one, surely.” You continued. “A fearful population is vulnerable to manipulation, whereas a population confident in its protectors is steadfast and resilient.”

“I had not considered.”

“Something to think about, yes?”

The Ultramarine looked thoughtful. “Perhaps.”

“Well, I should not keep Lord Guilliman waiting. Thank you for taking the time to explain more of the Codex Astartes to me, Brother Tarchus. It was kind of you.”

He nodded. “I found the conversation stimulating, my Lady.”

“I should like to continue in the future, if we may.”

“I…am amenable to that suggestion.”

You gave him a final nod, smiled again, and stepped past him into Guilliman’s chambers. Once through, you couldn’t hold back a laugh of triumph. 

Your betrothed looked up at you from his place behind his desk. “And what has you so giddy this evening, my love?”

He stretched out a hand, and you hurried to his side. “I managed to engage Brother Tarchus in conversation just now!”

“Indeed? It was my understanding he was being particularly stubborn.”

“Ah, but I believe I’ve found the key to an Ultramarine’s hearts.” You smiled slyly up at him.

He chuckled. “Enlighten me.”

“I simply get them talking about the Codex Astartes. It seems to be their favorite topic.”

“Believe me, I am aware.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and gave a dramatic shake of his head. “You have swept all before you, my Lady. Are none of my sons safe from your wiles?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know at least one is.”

“Cato can be… difficult.”

To put it mildly. You pursed your lips.

Guilliman ran a finger along your jawline. “Do not fret. You cannot help but be beloved by all in time.”

You felt heat rush to your face. “What…what happened to your ‘no touching’ rule?”

A flash of mischief in his blue eyes was the only warning you received before you found yourself hoisted up and deposited in his lap. You gasped and caught yourself with outstretched hands against his massive chest.

“Roboute!”

An arm of steel wrapped about your shoulders, pinning you against him. “I thought depriving myself entirely of your touch would cool my ardor. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect.”

His head lowered, lips just shy of your own, as his voice dropped to the rumbling growl you loved. “Instead, I have decided to allow myself a few…small…indulgences….”

You melted into his arms when he kissed you, slowly and deeply.

An eternity, and yet not nearly long enough, later, he pulled away and smiled down at you. You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes. 

This. If I could just have this, forever, I would be satisfied.

“My love, we need to talk.”

“Mmm?” 

The double beat of his hearts soothed you. You realized you could easily fall asleep like this, cradled in his arms, safe.

“It is time you told me more of your family.”

Your eyes snapped wide. “What?”

No. No no no. I’m not ready!

His arm tightened slightly around you, as if he feared you’d bolt. You considered doing exactly that.

“Captain Takahashi contacted me this morning.” Guilliman’s voice was kind, but firm. “There was another sabotage attempt.”

You jerked upright. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No. The Captain’s men-at-arms are skilled. But the fact remains,” he brought his other hand to your chin, holding it in place, “they were following orders from a prince of your house.”

Two faces appeared unbidden in your mind. One, fierce and angular, baring its teeth in a wide grin. The other, rounded and pale, eyes sullen. 

“Victor and Conrad….” You didn’t realize you’d spoken the names aloud until Guilliman reacted.

“Your cousins.”

You couldn’t turn your head away, but you dropped your eyes from his piercing gaze. “Yes. My cousins.”

You didn’t want to think about them. You didn’t want to think about…her. In desperation, you tried a new tactic. Slowly, you moved your hands up Guilliman’s chest, caressing the hard muscle beneath his tunic. 

“Can’t we talk about this later?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, wetting your lips with your tongue.

His breath stuttered, his eyes going dark and hungry.

You continued exploring his chest with your fingers, feeling rather proud of yourself… until he released your chin and captured both wrists in an iron grip.

“A good attempt.” One side of his mouth tilted upward. “But I will not be distracted.”

Struggling only emphasized your utter helplessness. “Roboute, please.”

“What are you so afraid of, my love?”

Something snapped inside. You snarled at the man you loved.

“I’m afraid of her! My grandmother, the Matriarch, the heartless bitch.” A hysterical laugh burst through your lips. “You think one of my cousins is behind all this? Whoever the saboteurs assumed their orders came from, I guarantee she is the one pulling the strings. She wants me dead.”

You stopped, panting. Guilliman stared down at you. It frightened you how little emotion you saw behind his regal mask.

“Why?”

Why indeed? Why stop now? Let’s air all the family’s dirty laundry.

“She hated my mother first. My mother, her eldest, her legacy. My mother, who threw everything away to sail the stars. My mother, who returned years later, pregnant with an unknown man’s child.” 

You couldn’t have stopped even if you wanted to. The words poured forth like blood from a wound.

“Grandmother banished my mother to an isolated Abbey in the highlands. I was born there, among the Holy Sisters.” You smiled at the memory of happier days. “Mother became their huntress, bringing in game for the larders. During her absences, I learned alongside the novitiates. History, theology, but also botany and bioengineering. I spent hours in their gardens and greenhouses. The Sisters are famed for engineering new forms of plantlife, medicines and textiles as well as food.”

You didn’t see Guilliman anymore. You saw the kindly, wizened Mother Superior, cradling a new strain of vitamin-infused apple in her weathered hands. You saw rows of pungent medicinal herbs swaying in the greenhouses. You saw Mother, laughing, hands outstretched to welcome you into her arms.

“When I was twelve, Mother died on a hunt. I grieved. But I wasn’t alone. The Sisters were my family.” You felt tears coming as you dropped your voice to a whisper. “Then, one night….”

Screams. You jerked awake in your room amongst the other novitiates, all of you bleary-eyed and confused. Light poured through the windows. You heard the hard tramp of boots. The door burst open and Sister Helena fell into the room, shoved from behind. 

“Which one is she?” A harsh voice boomed. 

The man it belonged to stood in the doorway, covered head to toe in tactical armor, brandishing a pistol.

He shouted your name. Sister Helena crouched on the floor, but said nothing. The man snarled and aimed his weapon at her.

“Wait!” You screamed, scrambling out of bed. “It’s me! I’m the one you’re looking for!”

You had no idea why they wanted you. But you weren’t going to let them hurt your family.

The rest of the night was a blur of grasping hands, roaring engines, and bitter cold. They hadn’t let you change out of your nightdress. They hadn’t let you say goodbye.

“The soldiers took me to the Matriarch, my grandmother, who said a plague that had devastated our cities the year prior had killed my two uncles. I was now the heir. Lessons followed. Endless lessons as she tried to force me into the model princess. At first, I resisted. But the consequences….” You shuddered. “I learned to keep quiet. I learned to obey. I learned to fear.”

You felt Guilliman’s hand on your lower back, rubbing circles. Slowly, your surroundings came back into focus.

“Breathe, my love.” His deep voice dispelled the haze of terror. “Just breathe.”

You buried your face in his chest, but words kept coming. “She didn’t want me. Not really. In time, I realized she was using me as a threat to my eldest cousin, Victor. By naming me heir, but promising the position to him if he behaved, she kept him on a tight leash. I was safe for a time. But if I hadn’t proposed this diplomatic mission, my death would have come at her hands sooner or later.”

“You must have known this envoy might have gotten you killed, with or without your family’s interference.” 

“I knew.” You wondered if you sounded as desperate as you felt. “But it was a chance. A way out! I couldn’t stay in that palace anymore, with her and her spies always watching.” 

Another hysterical laugh. “You know Grandmother once refused me meals for an entire week in a fit of rage? I would have starved to death if not for the kindness of the servants. I-I just…I had to…oh, Light help me.”

You wept, clinging to Guilliman, the only solid point in the maelstrom tearing through you. “Don’t let me go, Roboute. Please. Don’t let me go.”

His huge arms tightened further around you. “Never.”

***

Guilliman held you as you sobbed, held you close, and seethed. 

I could raze her planet. I could smother it in steel, snuffing out the lives of everyone who ever hurt her. 

He wouldn’t, though. The cost in innocents would be too high. You’d never forgive him. But still….

“Damn the alliance.” He growled. “Damn the treaty. Let your Matriarch think you dead. Let her think the barbarians of the Imperium slaughtered your entire entourage.”

Your sobs quieted and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

He cupped your face in his palm. “Marry me, return with me to Ultramar, and let me care for you. You need never set foot upon your homeworld again.”

“It would be so easy,” you murmured, closing your eyes, “to just say yes. To stay safely in your shadow and forget everything else.”

“Then say yes.”

A long moment passed in silence. He heard the muted voices outside his office, the omnipresent hum of the great ship, and your beating heart. Then, you opened your reddened eyes.

“I can’t, Roboute.” You seemed calmer now. “I may have originated this plan as an escape from my home, but all the other reasons I gave, I believe in them too. My people need the rest of humanity, and the rest of humanity needs us.”

A mixture of disappointment and sheer awe filled him. How, in the vastness and cruelty of the universe, had he found a woman so perfectly matched to himself?

“I used to dream of running away.” He muttered, only half aware he spoke aloud. “I dreamed of cutting free of the Imperium, of becoming a farmer. An honest, simple life.”

“It sounds lovely.” You smiled sadly. “But we can’t cast duty aside so easily, you and I. We care too much. All we can hope for,” you placed your hand against his cheek, mirroring him, “is to find someone to share that duty with us. Someone to stand beside us. Someone to love.”

“I love you.” Throne, my hearts feel about to burst with it.

“And I you.”

He kissed you again. Soft and gentle and so, so sweet. When he pulled himself away, you tucked yourself back against his chest.

“Forgive me for hiding all this from you, Roboute. I was afraid. I’ve been afraid for so long.”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

“When we reach my homeworld, my family will stand against us.”

Ferocity welled within him. Lifting you in his arms, he carried you to the great viewport and looked out upon the passing stars. Logically, he knew the star your world circled was not among them. 

Still, he issued a challenge.“I am Roboute Guilliman, Lord of Ultramar, Lord Regent of the Imperium, Primarch.” He held you close. “Let them try.”

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

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@thememestrider

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[makingfanfictionstosleep]

sweeping you off your feet for the second time

an : rafayel x nonmc | nonmc is introverted & nonconfrontational | mc is the girl bestie of nonmc | college au | tried to make it fluff but maybe i failed | typed on my phone & non proofread | might be triggering for some - read at your own risk cause its hard to make a label for every single thing | i wrote this cause i wanted to hurt myself

next

CHAPTER ONE

The second year of college felt much like the first, a blur of lukewarm coffee, late-night study sessions, and the constant hum of hopeful, fearful possibility. For you, a simple girl who favored oversized sweaters and glasses that hid the curve of your cheekbones, that possibility always revolved around him. Rafayel.

He was a walking contradiction: loud laughter echoing down the hallways, a sass that could disarm anyone, a charm that felt like a physical force, and a ridiculous handsomeness that made heads turn wherever he went.

He was art in motion, vibrant and undeniable, and from the moment you’d seen him, a whirlwind of paint-splattered clothes and bright, uninhibited smiles, you’d been a quiet admirer. Just another face in the crowd he so effortlessly captivated.

You’d settled into a comfortable, easy friendship with him, surprising even yourself. He’d tease you about your meticulous notes, borrowing your highlighters and leaving them uncapped.

He’d drag you to impromptu art installations, rambling excitedly about light and shadow, and you’d listen, mesmerized, your heart doing a foolish, hopeful little dance.

You saw glimpses of something deeper in him, moments when his charming façade would flicker, revealing an almost unsettling intensity in his eyes when he looked at you, a possessive edge to his jokes if another guy spoke to you for too long.

You, being foolish and dumb, brushed it off as endearing protectiveness, a sign of a truly special friendship. You desperately wanted it to be more.

And then, it happened.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, rain streaking the common room window. You were buried in a particularly dense philosophy text when Rafayel sauntered over, a mischievous glint in his dazzling eyes. He leaned against the armchair next to you, close enough for you to catch the familiar scent of his expensive cologne, mixed with a hint of turpentine.

“Hey, Cutie,” he drawled, his voice a low purr. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

Your breath hitched. Thinking about what? Your mind raced, a thousand improbable scenarios blooming.

He straightened, running a hand through his perfectly messy hair, a gesture that always made a shiver run down your spine. “I was wondering… if you’d like to go on a date with me.”

The world tilted. The words felt too big, too bright, too real to be true. You stared at him, your simple exterior doing nothing to hide the sudden, dizzying flush that crept up your neck. Your heart pounded against your ribs, a drum solo of disbelief and overwhelming joy.

“A… a date?” you finally managed, your voice a barely audible squeak.

He grinned, that utterly charming, slightly arrogant grin. “Yeah. Like, dinner. Or a movie. Or just… hanging out, but, you know, dating hanging out.” He winked. “What do you say, cutie? Ready to step into the glamorous life?”

You barely heard the last part. All you knew was that your long-held dream, the secret yearning you’d nursed since freshman year, was actually, incredibly, coming true. Rafayel, the dazzling, charismatic Rafayel, wanted to go on a date with you. Foolish, dumb, naive you.

“Yes,” you blurted out, the word escaping before your brain could catch up. “Yes, I’d… I’d love to.”

And so, it began.

The "dating" felt like walking through a dream. He was every bit as charming as you’d always imagined. He’d open doors for you, pull out your chair, send you random, witty texts throughout the day.

He’d remember obscure details about your favorite books and bring them up in conversation, making you feel incredibly seen.

He’d even occasionally let his guard down, sharing a fleeting, almost vulnerable thought about his art or his family, and you’d cling to those moments, convinced they were proof of his genuine affection.

Yet, underneath the dazzling surface, subtle currents stirred. If another classmate lingered too long talking to you, Rafayel would appear, a hand casually resting on your lower back, his smile just a touch too wide as he interjected.

“Mind if I steal my girl for a bit? Important artistic inspiration to share.”

He’d discourage you from joining study groups, claiming he just wanted more time with you, his eyes holding an intensity that felt exhilaratingly possessive. You, wrapped in the intoxicating glow of his attention, saw it as devotion, a thrilling sign that he truly cared.

You started to shed the layers of your perceived plainness. You wore clothes that flattered your figure, experimented with your hair, and found a new confidence in your step. For the first time, you felt truly beautiful, desired, loved. You were finally the main character of your own story, and Rafayel was right there beside you, writing it with you.

Until the day the ink ran dry, and the paper-thin reality ripped apart.

It was a Friday night, and you were walking across campus after a particularly lovely dinner with Rafayel. He’d just dropped you off at your dorm, leaving you flushed with happiness. As you passed the open window of a friend’s room, a burst of laughter erupted from within. And then, a familiar voice, loud and clear, the voice of Leah.

“Oh my god, Rafayel, you actually did it! You kept it up for almost two months! We thought you’d fold after a week!”

Your heart stopped. You pressed yourself against the cold brick wall, suddenly invisible.

Another voice, one of Rafayel’s closest friends, crowed, “Best. Dare. Ever! Cutie, the plain Jane of the lit department, thinking she actually snagged him! Classic!”

Then, Rafayel’s voice, smooth and laced with a hint of amusement, cut through the night.

“Hey, a dare’s a dare. Besides, it was… an interesting experiment. She’s not bad, just… a little too serious for my taste. But points for persistence, right? And she totally fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.”

His laugh, so familiar, so beloved, now sounded like shattered glass.

“She’s so gullible.”

The world spun, a vortex of agony. A dare. An interesting experiment. Gullible. Every sweet word, every charming gesture, every intensely possessive glance – it all twisted into a grotesque, mocking parody of love.

You hadn't been desired; you'd been a pawn. You hadn't been loved; you'd been a joke. Your heart, once so full, was now a gaping, bleeding wound. The confidence you'd found, the beauty you thought you possessed – it was all built on a foundation of lies.

You stumbled back to your dorm, the vibrant college campus now a cold, mocking landscape. You locked the door, sinking to the floor, tears streaming down your face. The pain was physical, a crushing weight that stole your breath. The admiration you’d held for him since freshman year, the foolish hope you’d nursed, the blossoming love – it had all been for this. To be the punchline of a cruel, casual dare.

You looked at your reflection in the darkened window, seeing not the confident girl you’d become, but the "plain Jane" they'd mocked, the "gullible" girl who had believed in a lie.

The slow burn wasn't just your unrequited love; it was the agonizing, drawn-out realization that you had given your heart, freely and completely, to a game.

And Rafayel, the loud, sassy, ridiculously handsome boy you loved, had simply used it as an amusing way to pass the time.

The price you paid was your shattered innocence, your trust, and the agonizing knowledge that you were nothing more than "just for fun."

[stinkycheeselady]

SotR has really changed my perspective on the other games that we know very little about. Johanna for sure comes to mind. Katniss describes Haymitch’s games pretty in detail during CF and we know from both that and Haymitch’s description during the Victor ceremony that the game makers downplay his time in the arena significantly. They make it look like he spent pretty much the entire games walking north toward the edge of the arena, only being deterred from his goal when Maysilee saves him from Panache— but we know that’s just government propaganda to cover up the fact that he conducted himself like an absolute nightmare tribute. Too involved in the lives of his “enemies.” Too much empathy. Too much humanity and hatred for the Capital.

Do we really believe, after seeing how MUCH Haymitch’s games were edited by the time Katniss and Peeta watch them in CF, that Johanna actually hid during her games until the very end?

I think it’s safe to assume that her family suffered a similar fate to Haymitch’s, and we know by the time CF rolls around she’s angry. She’s so angry AND she doesn’t care who knows anymore. “He can’t hurt me, there’s no one left that I love.”

It also makes me question Beetee’s games. He won by electrocuting the final 6 tributes. Or at least, that’s what the Capital has told us, but the version of Beetee that we’ve known since CF has seemed too smart to do anything without an ulterior motive. I assume that his first game was his first attempt to “take out the brain.”

It also makes me question Annie’s games - did she really self isolate leading up to the finale? It’s what we’ve been told, but we know the editors love to use that line. Also, an “earth quake resulting in a flood”? Beetee YOU ARE A MENACE

I think part of the brilliance of SOTR is that it’s made me want to engage with the original trilogy in a way that I haven’t in well over a decade. Over and over and over again the rebellion tried to set themselves free. There is a rich text here of failing and hoping and waiting and suffering. And then along comes Katniss and she is not the chosen one she is not the Girl on Fire in any meaningful way, she is just a person who carries the same hurt as the other district citizens. She is just a girl who doesn’t know, who can’t know, about the boys and girls who have come before her and have tried as hard as they can to eat the berries. To not let the capital win.

Ugh. I want to kiss Suzanne Collins square on the mouth I loved this book so much. It hurts so good.

[blackstonesandtrapnest]

Hellooo 🙃

I'd like to have the prompts 1 and 29 with Tim if that's not too much trouble? I'm not really into anime, so most of the characters / fandoms don't fit with me / i don't even know them😅

My poor brain isn't really capable of coming up with something creative at the moment (thanks to the cold i caught), so i hope the lack of details isn't that big of an issue...

Lots of love!💕

So sorry I took so long! I hope this is good enough! Still taking requests for this event everyone!

Prompt List Here!

“I want to see you. All of you. You don’t have to hide from me.”

Hearing those words from Tim’s mouth made you more confident in yourself, both physically and mentally to the part where you were starting to change your wardrobe especially in the bedroom. Before he came along, your fashion style was….non-existent to say the least. You wore baggy clothes and didn’t show that much skin if any. Even when you wore pajamas, you still hid your body and hated looking at yourself in the mirror. But Tim changed all of that and in quite a funny but also sexy way.

He had spent the night at your house and things got very raunchy as expected. However you only wanted to have sex in the dark which puzzled Tim but he went along with it anyway. You weren’t ready to expose yourself to him yet and you were afraid of being judged. After the very mind-blowing sex (the best you ever had), you tried to get out of bed to go to the bathroom but your legs felt like jelly because of Tim which caused you to fall on the floor. You could hear him laughing and even though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he was smirking.

Tim turned on the lamp and he went to help you up. Seeing you naked for the first time was a huge shock to him and he thought that your body was incredible which he said repeatedly as he picked you up bridal style and kept kissing you while walking into the bathroom. Let’s just say that you finally got to experience how good shower sex was especially with someone like Tim who actually cared about your pleasure and loved your body!

Ever since that night, your confidence shot through the roof and you started to change for the better. Not only did your attitude change but your wardrobe did as well. Your job as an OB/GYN enabled you to buy clothes of a higher quality and you practically changed your wardrobe overnight especially in the bedroom. You had bought many lingerie sets and you wanted to surprise Tim with them, hoping he would like it.

His reaction when he saw you wearing lingerie for the first time was way more than what you expected! Without saying a word, Tim walked over to you and pulled you in for a kiss that took your breath away. He grabbed your ass and lifted you up so you wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked into your bedroom. You could definitely feel how hard and horny he was and after the long day you had, you needed some dick!

“You know I love you right?”

“Of course I do. I love you too Tim.”

“Good because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Tim laid you on the bed and pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. Was he planning to use them on you?! Or was it the other way around? You would eventually get your answer as you found yourself handcuffed to the headboard with your legs spread and Tim fucking you like he was going to prison for the rest of his life. The noises coming from both of you would put Jenna Jameson to shame and if the neighbors didn’t hear you guys before, they definitely did now! The headboard banging against the wall just added to the noise!

“Fuck you have such a tight little pussy. You’re taking me so well too. Such a good girl. Go on and come for me. Come on this dick.”

Tim whispering and talking you through your orgasm was the straw that broke the camel’s back and you were squirting all over him before you could say LAPD and Tim followed suit with his own orgasm after a few more hard thrusts, letting out quite the loud moan which was so sexy to you!

You were so exhausted and tired that you couldn’t even move and your wrists were starting to hurt at this point because of the handcuffs. Tim gave you a deep kiss as he began to take them off and he held you close to him, massaging and rubbing your wrists. 

“Are you feeling ok? Do you need anything?”

The concern in Tim’s beautiful eyes made your heart flutter and you managed to nod. It was pretty insane how fast he went from fucking your brains out to being a huge softie. 

“I feel amazing although I can barely move right now. All I need is you.”

Tim gave you a soft smile in return and laid down beside you, hugging you close to him and kissing your forehead. You didn’t think it was possible but you fell more in love with him than ever before at that moment!

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Tim.”

True love did indeed exist and you were so glad that you finally experienced it yourself!

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 10/12

Anonymous asked: Scratch: Won't anyone think of the children!! If you're gonna be smooching then get a room!!! also Scratch: Time to go manipulate more children into destroying their relationships! @manorinthewoods asked: There are two events in which Scratch has, so far, gained emotions: one, when he discovered that the Serkets stole an incredibly important magical item and hid it for centuries or millenia; and two, romance in his workroom. ~LOSS (20/9/24)

@manorinthewoods asked: "Is it because there’s a ‘good’ and an 'evil’ way for a God Tier to die?" On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate this brain fart? ~LOSS (20/9/24)

Wait, is that a brain fart? Because to me, it still scans.

Prospit, the 'good' moon, would naturally be associated with heroism, and vice-versa for Derse. Am I missing something really obvious?

Anonymous asked: Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Death's Bell grows ever nearer. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. But will it determine whether the thief is trully a sinner? Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Honk. I guess we'll see :o) @ben-guy asked: The showdown between Vriska and Terezi really is one of the watershed moments of HS imo. You've questioned if Vriska has matured enough to escape death by mysterious transcendental judgement engine… but let's not forget the meanings of the words in question, and their inherent linguistic and philosophical ambiguity. What if her death being caused by her pursuit of a heroic (albeit foolish) plan tragically makes her growth the cause of a permanent death instead? What if Terezi's decision to kill her is just regardless of Vriska's motivations, making her growth a moot point? Of course, this feels a lot less mutually exclusive, which goes against the implications of the clock imagery. […]

How did Scratch phrase it again?

The terms of a God Tier permadeath are defined according to the case of the individual - which implies that Heroic and Just are subjective, even to Sburb. It sounds like there might not be any ironclad rules, and that everyone's ruling works differently.

Yes, Scratch appears to be outlining some universal examples here - but what does, say, 'corruption' really mean? There are many equally valid interpretations, and a lot of them are contradictory. Maybe each death uses the definition that makes the most sense to that player.

In any case, I think Vriska's fate is currently meant to be unclear. She's designed from the ground up to be a complex, morally ambiguous character, and you could construct a valid argument for either outcome.

For my part, I'm fully convinced this will resolve as Just. I've been predicting Vriska's death for most of the Act now, and it's extremely fitting for it to happen at Terezi's reluctant hands. All those Incidents are finally coming full circle, and they're coming for her.

@morganwick asked: Note that Scratch starts talking about dark pockets and needing to speculate immediately after Vriska sees Karkat and Terezi's corpses. That's all Terezi needed to see, which means it's all Scratch needed to know - and all Hussie needed to know as well.

True! The fight that Scratch couldn't call was part of a doomed timeline. Its outcome was completely irrelevant to the story - and therefore, there's a good chance that Hussie didn't bother to decide on the victor. Author Theory survives another day!

@relaxxattack asked: i dont know if this counts as spoilers (it's a quote from andrew hussie) but i think your theory on scratch's omniscience is basically spot-on! "Doc here refers to the dark spots, the pockets of void on which his vision is built. These hint at limitations to his omniscience. As an alt-author figure, his omniscience makes sense, since the author has sweeping knowledge of story details as well. Because I "know everything," he "knows everything" too. Of course, as I write the story, there are plenty of things I don't know yet, and the "not knowing" is always an important part of the process in this largely improvisational medium. The known gaps are worked into the story, evaded through time skips and other tricks, filling out the surrounding narrative until certain answers become clearer, and then revealed at the right moment. The voids are built around, and in a real way, become foundational, almost load-bearing gaps in knowledge, just as he describes. Pillars of shadow. So his dark spots are not only a limitation to an otherwise ridiculously overpowered villain that can be exploited, they're a feature of a specific type of "authorial omniscience" copied into his profile." -- Andrew Hussie

...and it's officially Hussie-approved! Let's fucking go!

Anonymous asked: One kind of less obvious thing he says about circumstantial simultaneity is that it weaves together perfectly disparate chronologies such as a pair of distinct sessions, so it seems it is at work when there is communication between sessions, such as conversations between humans and trolls. ie: The troll sending the message is circumstantially simultaneous to the human receiving the message. Ditto for the memos. Anonymous asked: Posting for someone else again. -DJ || I interpret Circumstantial Simultaneity to mean a very simple thing: "those events happens at different times, but at the same meta-time". Especially if the things happen in different worlds, and so happening at the same time is impossible, because different worlds have isolated timelines. - RM

That makes a lot more sense than my interpretation. I think I was thrown off by Scratch's insistence that Circumstantial Simultaneity is 'not fully comprehensible to a mortal mind'. His use of such phrasing led me to assume that the concept was more complicated than it appeared, leading me to try and puzzle out the 'real' meaning of the term.

So, in a nutshell, circumstantial simultaneity is when multiple sections of reality are linked by shared events, allowing their local timelines to synchronize. Seems straightforward enough.

Anonymous asked: i don't think scratch technically lied. there are multiple ways in which scratch could die in the same way that there are multiple ways in which anyone could die - an axe could theoretically kill you, but that doesn't mean there has to be a timeline where you get killed with an axe

The semantics here are pretty interesting.

Scratch has stated that there are multiple ways to kill him, which could mean:

That there are multiple scenarios which have a non-zero probability of killing him.

That there are multiple scenarios that would hypothetically cause him to die, if they actually occurred.

These two statements have fairly similar meanings, but, as anon pointed out, there's an important distinction between the two. Statement 1 requires Scratch to actually die in some timelines, but Statement 2 doesn't require him to ever die, in any timeline.

Scratch has stated that he'll only die in one timeline, which means that there is only one scenario that will ever lead to his death. All other scenarios will never lead to his death - and thus, even if they could 'hypothetically' kill him, the probability that they will kill him is zero.

@heliotropopause asked: Never change, Noir. is that the oil jug WV uses for his mural in act 2? how'd it get to Scratch's lair?

I don't think it's the same jug, for the simple reason that both Carapacians emptied out the whole thing for their respective shenanigans. This ain't no Alchemy Jug!

abysswarlock asked: I like to think that the meta joke with the disks are a parallel of how the kings scepters hold small instantiations of skaia that exist within skaia itself, in this case the story of homestuck exists in disk form within the narrative itself.

Perhaps, but the Scepter's recursion is explained to be a game mechanic, whereas there's currently no explanation for the disk's existence. I guess Hussie himself could have put it there, but, like... why?

Anonymous asked: ‘His army thus inspired would spearhead a major re8ellion. Surely one at least on the scale of the sectarian revolt crushed 8y the High8loods, who thereafter for8ade its mention, or any invoc8tion of the heretical sym69ls at all, even in private journals.’ do you have any theories about this line?

Karkat's leadership shines in times of immediate crisis, which is part of why he struggled to keep his team together in the Veil. He doesn't know how to motivate people without an immediate, in-your-face threat - but since his ancestor was leading a rebellion, that probably wasn't an issue for him. The threat was omnipresent.

In short, I think Karkat Senior was always in Vantas Panic Mode. He'd have spearheaded Alternia's first rebellion with vim, vigor, seemingly infinite stamina, and sheer, bloody-minded determination - and if he was anything close to as likeable as Karkat, folk heroism was virtually inevitable. I can't wait to learn more!

@semaphoricwave asked: w.r.t. learning Mindfang dates the Summoner: it makes you wonder if Vriska's obsession with Tavros was the Alternian equivalent of comphet. She had no respect for his agency in the scenario (not difficult to develop when you're able to mind control people), but also she didn't seem to hold much stock in her own agency in all that, either. It's not even a cueball fortune, she just seems to want to be true: this boy she wants to 'make better' (but doesn't know how) is meant to make her happy. Anonymous asked: so with the revelation of the summoner, this makes TWO characters that vriska canonically was in/pursued as part of a romantic relationship that were descendants from her ancestors romantic partners. girl is inventing new kinds of comphet 😭

Vriska, for god's sake. Terezi is right there.

@iknowitsgreen asked: I find it so interesting that there's now an implication that Vriska literally expected Tavros to grow wings and fly to safety when she threw him off that cliff. The question is, did she simply resent Tavros for proving her fantasy wrong, or did she convince herself that Tavros chose to be paralyzed over showing his wings to her? It somewhat recontextualizes her early treatment of him either way

Layers upon layers upon layers. Vriska was fucked up about Tavros from twenty directions at once, and should never have been let within a thousand feet of the poor guy.

@manorinthewoods asked: Since trolls growing wings is apparently some sort of mythic event, presumably the God Tier wings of Vriska specifically tie into this. A God Tier troll gaining wings would be much more significant to the troll than to the human reader, as their culture places incredible emphasis on the meaningfullness of such - and perhaps the God Tier ascension could be likened to such a 'pupation'. ~LOSS (10/9/24)

It would explain why both Vriska and Aradia got them, but John didn't. The trolls have a lot in common with insects, so it stands to reason that in their culture, an insect's metamorphosis would be associated with divine apotheosis.

Anonymous asked: It’s super fascinating riding along as you go through this sequence because when I first read homestuck literally all the mind games went over my head haha. I saw what happened, and had a decent grasp on the characters, but the idea that Gamzee was manipulating Terezi? Never occurred to me. Everything about “why didn’t Terezi suspect Gamze” was just a mystery I never solved (mostly because I never understood gamzee, and still don’t) So Thank You so much for helping me understand better, years later! It’s so wild to look back and know what happens, but still have a limited grasp on why it went down that way.

Thank you for the kind words!

And yeah, a lot of Gamzee's schtick seems to be focused on obfuscating what he's actually doing. The real smoking gun there was the near-complete loss of Terezi's deductive abilities, at the exact moment Gamzee should have entered her radar.

@skelekingfeddy asked: ive always seen the grand highblood as not a troll, but like, the head of the imperial drones. when asked why his blood is black hussie said ‘Because he’s a huge gross monster? I don’t what sort of answer would be meaningful.When the highbloods were setting up the judicial system, they said ok we’re going to need some judges for this thing. Then they said ok how about these massive brainless monsters, that would be so perfect.’ […] its a headcanon of mine that hht is technically the same species as the mother grub. same with the imperial drones. if the mother grub is a queen bee then the drones are…well, drones. and hht is, like, a drone foreman, or sergeant, or something. i imagine that trolls and the drones’ species evolved a reproductive symbiosis, but then the empire took advantage of it and co-opted the drones + hht as enforcers

There's such an interesting untold story here, about how the early trolls might have cyberized a formerly symbiotic species, and essentially made them its slaves.

I've always been interested in how, exactly, the trolls developed their symbioses, and what they might have looked like before Alternian civilization became what it is today.

Anonymous asked: terezi tries to play disc 2 on a gramophone because she literally doesn't know how a cd works - sgrub is all run via grubtech, and most of her humanning has been with mr turntables who even if asked would probably describe a cd through obtuse metaphor likening it to a vinyl record

Oh, good point. Terezi's from a civilization which left CDs behind a long, long time ago.

Hey, come to think of it, why does the Veil even have a…

...oh, right. The room isn't 'canon', so I probably shouldn't be trying to theorize too hard about its contents. It's not really part of the story.

@catlikeascendant asked: I had the impression that just like mindfang was vriska's FLARP character, Redglare was terezi's. That would explain terezi having the outfit and responding to the name, at least @somebody0214 asked: Terezi did roleplay a lot as the Redglare so it would make sense she would respond to Redglare. @dissonancies asked: I'm honestly not sure Terezi does know about her ancestor. […] Vriska had the journals, but she tries to keep her cards close to her chest- remember, "Mindfang" was Vriska's roleplay name. Who's to say she didn't just "casually" "suggest" Redglare for Terezi's character, without telling her why?

Vriska, just how many of your friends have you been molding into their ancestors?

I won't be mad - I just want to know.

Anonymous asked: Equius Sr being fit to Inherit the cueball due his passive Voidiness is another point to sharing classpects with Equius Jr, the Heir of Void. @cationicflood asked: now that youve met the Expatri8, you know now why Scratch didn’t know Vriska had the cue ball until Terezi told him — it’s spent untold centuries ensconced in Zahhak-flavored Void aura. Even when it was in Vriska’s possession, it so happened she was quite literally neighbors with Equius.

We've talked a lot about how I believe Scratch's 'dark pockets' represent information that Hussie hasn't decided on yet. It's admittedly a little difficult to reconcile that with the fact that Void, an in-universe Aspect, is strongly implied to be the source of at least some of these pockets.

Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level, as well as a literal one. Like, perhaps Void is the aspect of author uncertainty, and therefore, anything that Hussie hasn't decided on out-of-universe is canonically 'hidden by Void'.

Anonymous asked: Mindfang warning Vriska about looking into the cueball…. So what you're saying is that Mindfang warned Vriska about the *stares*

It literally keeps happening!

@wolygan asked: So based off of the troll Ancestors we have seen, what do you think the rest might be like? also what do you think of the ones we have seen, since we don't know much about them yet. @absinthe-and-alabaster asked: Hi! I'm wondering if you have any updated thoughts from your initial ancestor theory post about the ancestors we haven't seen yet, given we know a bit more about troll history now

Not a lot! I'm obviously curious about the others, particularly Karkat's, but it's hard to come up with any concrete theories, other than 'their experiences and personalities will parallel those of their descendants', which is a freebie, based on the Ancestors we already have.

Anonymous asked: To be fair to EQ,Nepeta was far and safe when Gamzee attacked, and she could easly hide out of harm way with her skills. He just miscalculated and didn't realise she would follow him and attack Gamzee after he died.

True - but at the same time, he knew that Gamzee would still remain at large after his death, and that he, Equius, would no longer be able to protect Nepeta.

Even if she hadn't attacked him immediately, Gamzee would have remained a significant danger to everyone else on the Veil, Nepeta included. Had Equius fought back, he could have ensured that Gamzee would never be able to harm her.

@martinkhall asked: It's obvious to us that's not Vriska's handwriting. But just because Terezi can smell what the words say doesn't nesisarily mean she can smell the difference in how they're writen.

Plus, would Terezi necessarily be familiar with Vriska's handwriting? After all, most of the trolls seemed to communicate exclusively through modern technology. Would they really have any cause to pass notes to each other while FLARPing?

Anonymous asked: I would push back on the assertion that Heroic and Just deaths are the only way stories can work. One can be slain by a villain but not be a hero, and that can still matter to the story. A certain event from A Song of Ice and Fire springs to mind.

Oh, for sure - that's definitely correct outside of Homestuck. But within the comic, they really might be the only ways to die that Sburb considers 'dramatic' enough to be permanent.

Outside of the God Tier system, though, anything goes. After all, Equius was slain by a villain, and he didn't exactly die a hero.

@flerponius asked: Not really relevant to anything that's going on right now, but I thought you might find it interesting. In the Homestuck physical books, AH comments that the 4 grist types unlocked by default at the beginning of the comic (not including build grist) are related to the players quests; specifically, each grist type is a blight on the land it's found on, and the players quest would involve removing it from the land. I don't think this was explained anywhere else in the comic.

Oh, interesting. I wonder what they were supposed to be for?

Like, how does Rose's chalk relate to bringing life back to her oceans? Did Hussie have different Quest in mind for her, back then?

@manorinthewoods asked: The human session is shaping up to have lasted for less than a week due to Jack's interference, while the trolls slogged through over 600 hours (probably 612, to be specific, or 25.5 days) of relationship drama, powerleveling, and the production of inane yet somehow powerful weapons. Which of these is a more 'normal' length for a session? Did the trolls take too long, or were they rushing? Do bigger sessions last for longer? ~LOSS (2/9/24)

I'm pretty sure the troll session was closer to a 'typical' length.

According to Karkat, the human Reckoning arrived significantly sooner than normal - I assume this was due to Jack's double regicide.

If the human session had gone more smoothly, I imagine that it, too, would have taken several weeks. Like the trolls, the kids would have been able to hang out in person - and unlike the trolls, it probably wouldn't have devolved into multiple homicides.

@cheyj05 asked: Hey, just so you know it's pretty much impossible to read your liveblog in order on mobile. Searching the act 1 tag doesn't work so you pretty much would just have to scroll ALL the way back, which is impossible @cheyj05 asked: Ignore my last ask, I figured out how to do it

Mind sharing how, actually? I've been assuming that this was impossible, due to the Tumblr app's, uh, unique issues. If there's a way to browse the tags properly on mobile, I should probably add it to the pinned.

Anonymous asked: What do you mean "barely wind-themed", John made a car fly with his wind powers, why is a boat less believable?

You're not wrong. I guess I meant more that the boat's Breath energy looked a lot less like actual wind, and more like the abstract idea of Breath. It might just be stylistic, though.

@wolygan asked: I read another liveblog for Homestuck, and they just got to meeting Jade and then wrote a short essay on how they are convinced that Jade is the seer of light, just thought you might find that funny to know.

I do find that funny to know! Hussie got 'em again!

[art-missy]

The order was disrupted. Pure chaos.

Two bots were missing on your shelf.

These might seem like very micro details in the vast space filled with technology that was your workshop, but they were enormous in your eyes. It was as if your mind put some magnifying glass on your vision to mock you. Swallowing back your anger, you tried to think of who could have take your stuffs. It couldn't be Killjoy, the engineer knew how serious you were about your creations. Vyse would have asked and you seriously doubted Kay/O saw your bots as a younger sibling. Brimstone was too awkward with recent technologies and Neon didn't trust her powers around your creations.

Which left Tejo. He never hid the fact that he was very interested to your creations.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way in the corridors, your aura so strong and so threatening a few agents recoiled in fear. When you finally arrived in the common area, your eyes immediately spotted the culprit toying with your stuffs. While a few agents shivered at your arrival (and you reminded yourself to apologize to Wingman and Dizzy), Tejo turned in your direction with a smirk.

"There you are !" he said, standing up from his chair. "So, did you change your mind about that coffee ?"

"Hand my bots back this instant," you hissed.

"Sure."

And to your surprise, he did. He gently set your creations in your hands without while you stared wide eyed at him. There were a silence for a few seconds before you looked down at your equipments, turning and twitching them in your hand, looking for the slightest modification.

"What did you do to them ?" you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Nothing," he shook his head. "I just took them to attract your attention."

Straightforward as ever. The whiplash you had from his honesty slacked your jaw open. And while your surprise only rised to push your brain to short-circuit in a very dramatic way, Tejo got even more dramatic by tenderly taking your hand to kiss your knuckles.

"I get the feeling that everytime I ask you out to drink a coffee, you kind of...forget my words."

You blinked, your eyebrows raising farther onto your forehead to get lost in your hairline.

"You asked me out ? When ?"

He sighed, shook his head then looked at you over his glasses, anchoring his brown eyes in your ridiculously very wide opened one.

"Everytime we interact. Which is in fact, not a lot. And I still don't have your answer, manitas."

"You set chaos in my workshop just to ask me out ? Are you well ?"

He tilted his head with a slight 'meh' grimace.

"I prefer saying that I led your attention on me to ask you out."

"By wreaking havoc in my workshop," your eyes squinted. "By bringing disorder, disorganization. Desperate much ?"

"Yes, I am," he answered calmly, surprising you again. "I apologize for the disturbance. I'll probably do it again. As an apology, I can make you coffee."

You realised just now how he had planned this interaction, how he did more than just taking your bots. Tejo, as always, had always been honest with you. Like he said, he attracted your attention to him by taking your bots. It led you to look for him and to have an interaction. Then he took the opportunity to invite you to have coffee with him (for the umpteenth time apparently). He was as strategic in his interactions with you as you were organised with your bots.

"So, what do you say, manitas ?"

*manitas = tinkerer/handyman

[forgetyoursingalongsandlullabies]

TMAGP 39 Thoughts - Spoilers

I have so many feelings

- We’re back with Sam and Georgie

- Alice still lives at her parent’s home

- Are her parents alive?

- Georgie, don’t just break in!

- Awe Sam is back to his nervous humming

- Other Alice!

- Alice is so happy to see Sam! I wonder what happened to her Sam

- And now she’s sad that her Sam isn’t back

- She’s taking alternate universes really well. Surprisingly well

- “So we’re together where you’re from?” “Well … No” “Oh I’m so sorry” It sounds like she’s blaming herself (her alternate self) for them not being together anymore even without knowing the details. Just an interesting glimpse at Alice’s psyche

- Alice and Sam are married!! They got married before the incursion and now I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the chest - I took a break after this line because I felt too many emotions.

- Appendicitis?! After the eyepocalypse? He survived the eyepocalypse to die of sepsis from appendicitis?! Stop punching me in the chest, Alex!

- Ok interesting. Sam had appendicitis at the same time as her Sam. That suggests… something… obviously a lot of things have to be the same between the universes or else the characters wouldn’t have doubles. I could rant forever about how 1 small thing could cause such a large ripple that people don’t exist or are inherently different but that’s another post..

- Our Alice visited Sam in the hospital and hid a fetish magazine under the pillow lol

- tma Alice and Sam shared a domain. That’s kind of crazy romantic and also horrific

- The eyepocalypse being over and still having to relive your Hell in your dreams is crazy

- People in the same domain shared dreams afterwards. That’s just cool lore

- Customer service Hell. I feel you, Alice

- “I can feel you within myself and myself within you. - But we are together… together” this is… well #1 gorgeous horrific imagery and again so romantic in a grizzly horrifying way. #2 we’re adding to the themes of 2 people sharing 1 being. #3 I had some jmart thoughts and feelings but I’ll let someone else speculate on that because I want to keep this statement about Alice and Sam #4 That was a whole ass statement without an Archivist??

- Alice so desperately doesn’t want Sam to go. It must be so painful to lose the person you love the most and then to see him again and he’s so similar but it isn’t really him and he doesn’t love you in that way and he can’t stay.

- Y’all I feel in my chest that I want to cry but I’m not letting those tears out

- Sam, thanks for noticing how thorough her statement was. Please go back.

- There’s Archivist. She’s following Sam, not even fully feeding. Just following? What does it want?

I’m having a lot of feelings. I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest. I’m not even much of a Samalice shipper, I’m much more Dyhard, but I don’t mind SamAlice. Alice just loves Sam so much and I can tell she still loves Sam in the Protocol universe as well even if she isn’t actively In Love with him at the moment. Whatever the “controlling” thing Alice did in their relationship in the Protocol universe was, if it hadn’t have happened they might have ended up married too. Alternate Universes always get my brain revving up, I can think of possibilities forever.

[hushravengoobertown]

I can't believe I'm saying this but I had an extremely vivid Warframe related dream, about a new Warframe, specifically a Warframe my Drifter transformed into...

---

The dream started with Amir approaching a white and silvery cocoon structure... He gently caressed the cocoon, pressing his forehead against it, whispering at it. I couldn't quite make out what he said, but his face made it seem like he was missing whoever was in the cocoon.

The cocoon writhed, he was surprised, and stumbled backwards on the floor. It broke open, releasing a milky white figure, it plopped on the floor and my dream glitched?? Like transference static, a name flashed before me. "Tallow" . It struggled to lift itself off the ground, Amir rushed over to assist... That's when it made sense. It's face has 4 lines streaking down, purple glowing feathers mimicking 2 strands of hair and a Ponytail, the head flowered back, like a unopened lotus, the entire body was White with an orange emissive.

My Drifter, became the Warframe, Tallow.

The Genetic Weaver

The Bio Splicer

The Organic Seamstress

Tallow stumbled backwards, unseathing a polearm Exalted called the "Artirri" in defense of herself.

Amir cried out for my Drifter, and she paused... Remembering everything. They'd embrace each other, while he sobbed.

The dream continues with Lettie rushing to her station with a malnourished baby in hand, a sobbing mother following not to far behind... Lettie desperately tries to find something anything to revive the baby. While she was distracted, the baby starting gurgling happily. Tallow sat with the baby in arms, staring at it softly, feeding it from her finger, it was the exact compounds and nutrients the baby needed to recover, formula.

The next part of the Dream, was Tallow sitting with the others, Amir right next to her showing her what he was playing on his Gameboy, a little bird popped up on screen, and she brightened up but, she'd wave her arms grabbing Techrot matter and forming it into a white ball on her left clawed finger. Clasping the white ball in both her hands a light overtook the room and poof, a Small, Ivory, alien but otherwise very accurate Dove sprung to life in her hands and flew up out the broken glass window. Amir was in awe, the bird from his game was now real, for Tallow created new life in front of him.

The second to last part of the dream. Tallow called the hex into the backroom, a chalkboard in front of her. An extremely detailed portrait of human anatomy and a brief diagram of her abilities were on the board, she couldn't speak but Amir heard her, Drifters voice. It was clear in his mind. She could alter their bodies and revert them to human form. If they wanted that... She didn't want to hurt anyone if they didn't want to though. Amir instantly volunteered his right arm, and the others left the room to let her work. Ivory light filled the room, as bone and sinew separated from techrot and swordsteel, it didn't hurt but it was quite strange having his arm basically separated from his body painlessly. Then.. Ivory light flashed again and his arm was Human, flesh, blood and bone, attached to a complete contrasted still-protoframed body.

The final part of the dream was Tallow, gazing at me, speaking directly

"I want to be real, I can heal them, make them human again, the Orokin hid me away, because I could renew life, nurture it and recreate it. The Orokin never wanted anyone to know a 'Warframe' created their bodies... Thank you for listening to me, you were the only one who would."

Then I woke up, I had to lie there for a moment to process this dream. Please for the love of god brain stop being so random and let me dream like this more lmao.

[strayrockette]

His Eyes on Me: Part Two

Summary: In which Benny's stare chases her away

Masterlist/ Part One-Part Three

Standing in front of him, my thoughts were a tangled mess, each one jostling for attention as I tried to find the right words. Benny’s presence was overwhelming in the quietest way—his piercing blue eyes fixed on me with an intensity that seemed to pierce right through any shield I’d put up. The unwavering focus of his gaze sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, startling me. He didn’t look away, not even for a second, like he had all the time in the world to just watch me, soaking up every little detail.

I felt small and exposed, and the vulnerability of it all made my heart flutter nervously in my chest. My cheeks burned under the weight of his stare, and I quickly bowed my head, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping across my face. It was unnerving, how calmly he held me in his sights, not a flicker of doubt or hesitation. No guy had ever looked at me like that—like I was worth noticing, worth standing still for.

I rubbed my cheek, feeling the warmth spreading beneath my fingertips, and fidgeted with my fingers, picking at the skin around my nails as if it would distract me from the nervous energy buzzing through me. I stole quick glances at him, my eyes darting away whenever they threatened to linger too long. I wanted to ask him why he was here, why he kept staring, but the words felt heavy and clumsy in my mouth, stuck somewhere between curiosity and fear of hearing the answer. Finally, I managed to look up at him, my gaze wavering under the intensity of his, and I bit my lip nervously, feeling the awkwardness of the moment sink in.

“So, um...” I started, my voice barely above a whisper, shy and unsure. “My friends think you’ve been staring at me, and...” I trailed off, feeling stupid for even bringing it up, but the thought wouldn’t leave my mind. “I don’t know, I’m pretty sure they’re wrong, but...” I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to meet his eyes even though every instinct told me to look away. “Are you?”

There was a brief pause, a flicker of something in Benny’s eyes that I couldn’t quite read. His expression didn’t change much; his lips quirked just slightly, not quite a smile but enough to let me know he was amused. He didn’t seem caught off guard by the question or embarrassed by being called out. If anything, he seemed perfectly at ease, like he’d been waiting for me to ask.

“Yes,” he said simply, his voice steady and sure, leaving no room for doubt. Benny didn’t elaborate, didn’t feel the need to explain himself or justify his actions. It was just a straightforward answer, delivered with a calm confidence that made my breath hitch.

His honesty was jarring, cutting through the fog of my nerves like a bright light in a dark room. I wasn’t used to it—this kind of raw, unfiltered truth that Benny seemed to deliver so effortlessly. For a moment, my brain stuttered, struggling to catch up with the weight of his words. He wasn’t dodging or deflecting; he wasn’t trying to charm his way out of the awkwardness. He was just... honest. Plain and simple.

When the reality of his answer finally sank in, a surge of warmth spread across my cheeks, and I realized with a start that I was smiling—a soft, unguarded smile that I couldn’t hold back, no matter how hard I tried. It felt foreign, like I was allowing myself to be seen in a way I hadn’t before, stripped of all the usual defenses I hid behind. I bit my lip, feeling the full force of his gaze settle on me, and the nervous energy bubbling up inside me finally spilled over in the form of a giggle. It was light and breathless, the kind that escaped without warning, catching me off guard as much as him.

I ducked my head, the blush on my cheeks deepening as I tried to hide the giddy smile that wouldn’t leave my lips. The giggle felt silly and out of place, but I couldn’t help it; there was something so disarmingly simple about the way Benny just admitted it, like it was the easiest thing in the world to tell a girl you’d been staring at her. I glanced up through my lashes, stealing a peek at his reaction, half expecting him to laugh at my flustered response. But Benny just watched me, his eyes softening at the sight of my smile, like it was the very reaction he’d been hoping for.

My giggles were relentless, each one bubbling up as Benny's steady, weighted stare and calm honesty chipped away at the shell where I usually hid the nervous, shy part of myself. My hands flew to my cheeks, trying desperately to contain the growing blush and the uncontrollable laughter escaping my lips. I was unraveling, coming undone in the most unexpected way, and all Benny did was stand there, unwavering, his eyes never once trailing away from me. It was like he saw through every barrier I tried to put up, and I couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Okay,” I nodded to myself, as if I was trying to convince my own fluttering heart to settle down. “Have fun.” The words were rushed, almost like I was dismissing him, but really, I was dismissing myself before I completely lost it. I turned on my heel, my head bent low, and without another word, I bolted back to the diner, the sound of my boots tapping against the pavement barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

I practically dove back into the booth, my cheeks burning as Natalie and Lacey burst into a fit of giggles. Lacey nudged me with a knowing smirk, “You lasted a lot longer than we thought.”

Natalie leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I thought you’d bolt the moment you walked up to him,” she snickered, stirring her straw in her empty milkshake.

“And I thought you’d bolt the moment you stepped out of the diner,” Lacey added, shaking her head in mock disbelief. I buried my face in my arms on the table, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck.

I mumbled into my sleeves, wishing the world would swallow me whole. I couldn’t believe I had just laughed like an idiot and practically ran away from him.

Benny’s unflinching gaze had shaken something loose in me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Oh, he’s gettin’ on his bike,” Lacey teased, shoving my shoulder to get me to look. “Think he’s waitin’ for yah to look at him.”

Against my better judgment, I peeked up over the booth and glanced out the window. Benny was perched on his bike, his jacket snug around his broad shoulders, looking every bit as cool and composed as ever. The rumble of the bike vibrated through the glass, and when his eyes found mine, he didn’t break the connection. He just sat there, staring, with a look that was both challenging and inviting. My heart skipped a beat as he finally smiled, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and nodded at me like he was saying he’d see me around.

I flushed, my embarrassment hitting a new peak, and instead of sinking back into my seat like my instincts screamed at me to do, I raised my hand in a small, shy wave—an action that I regretted the instant I did it. Benny’s smirk grew, and he revved his bike, the engine’s growl sending a jolt through me. I watched as he pulled away, his figure disappearing into the night, leaving me breathless and hoping, irrationally, that I’d never see him again.

The next day

“You just… said okay and have fun??” Lacey’s voice was scandalized, her eyes wide with disbelief as we sat curled up on the couch in my living room. “THAT’S IT??? AND YOU RAN AWAY!”

Natalie was sprawled out at the other end of the couch, shaking her head with a laugh threatening to spill from her lips. “We taught you better than that, sweet pea,” she teased, her voice laced with playful disappointment as she tucked her legs underneath her, settling into the cushions.

I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch cushions as if I could somehow disappear from the mortifying memory of what just happened. I grabbed the fluffy throw blanket draped over the back of the couch and threw it over my head, desperately trying to hide from their relentless teasing. “I PANICKED, OKAY? I COULDN’T HELP IT!” I grumbled, my voice muffled under the soft fabric but still dripping with exasperation.

Natalie couldn’t hold back her snicker, nudging Lacey as they exchanged knowing looks over my blanketed form. “You really ran away from the hot biker staring at you like you were the last thing he’d ever see?” Lacey added, her tone half dramatic, half amused.

I peeked out from under the blanket, my cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. “It was intense, alright? I’ve never had anyone just… look at me like that,” I mumbled, hugging the blanket tighter as if it could somehow shield me from the mess I’d made. “I mean, what was I supposed to say? ‘Thanks for staring, wanna grab a milkshake?’”

Lacey burst into laughter, flopping beside me and playfully tugging the blanket down. “Honestly? Yeah, that would’ve been better than ‘okay, have fun.’ You basically told him to buzz off.”

Natalie giggled, shaking her head. “Sweet pea, you’ve got this gorgeous guy wrapped around your finger, and you’re over here running like he’s the plague.”

I pouted, the embarrassment still gnawing at me. “He’s just… different, okay? I wasn’t ready for it. I’ve never had someone just be so honest like that,” I confessed, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as I tried to process the whirlwind of emotions Benny had stirred up.

Lacey smirked, nudging me with her elbow. “And you like it. Don’t even try to deny it.”

I grumbled and just as I was about to sink further into the couch and wallow in my embarrassment, I heard a soft clink of dishes and the faint sound of footsteps. My head snapped up, and there was my mother, peeking around the kitchen door frame with a sly grin plastered on her face. She had clearly been eavesdropping, and the mischievous glint in her eyes told me she had heard every word.

“Mija, are you telling me you ran away from a boy?” she teased, her voice sing-songy and full of amusement as she leaned against the door frame, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “And not just any boy, but a handsome one? I thought I raised you better!”

I groaned, slumping back into the couch as Lacey and Natalie erupted into a fresh round of giggles. “Oh no,” I muttered, hiding my face in my hands. “Not you too, Ma.”

“Oh yes, me too!” she said, stepping fully into the living room with her towel draped over her shoulder. “I didn’t raise you to run away from something good, especially when it’s staring you right in the face.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You should’ve seen the way you were smiling when you came home last night.”

Natalie leaned forward, eyes wide with delight. “See, even your mom knows what’s up! You should’ve gone for it, sweet pea.”

“Exactly,” my mother chimed in, pointing at Natalie as if they were in cahoots. “You need to be bold, mija. Life doesn’t wait, and neither will that boy if you keep running off like that.” She paused, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. “Is he really that cute, though?”

I peeked up at her, my cheeks burning brighter as I recalled Benny’s piercing blue eyes and that confident smile. “Yes, Ma,” I admitted reluctantly, knowing there was no hiding from her. “He’s…" My face scrunched as I grinned and blushed, "really really cute, so cute.”

My mother clapped her hands together, the sound sharp and full of excitement. “Ay, Dios mío! I want to meet him! You should bring him to dinner—no, better yet, bring him by when your father’s not here. I need to see for myself this boy who’s got you all flustered.”

“Ma!” I squeaked, utterly mortified as I pulled the blanket back over my head.

“Come on, bring him around,” she coaxed, ignoring my protests. “I’ve got some advice for him on how to handle a Rodriguez woman.”

Natalie and Lacey were practically rolling off the couch at this point, their laughter filling the room. “Sweet pea, you’re never living this down,” Natalie wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. “Your mom’s already planning the wedding.”

“Of course I am,” my mother said, grinning wide. “And you, mija, better be ready to bring that boy over soon. I need to see if he’s worthy of my little girl.”

I peeked out from under the blanket, caught between embarrassment and laughter. My mom had a way of turning even the most nerve-wracking moments into something light and funny, and as much as I hated being the center of attention, I couldn’t help but feel a little warmth spread through me.

I mumbled half-heartedly, “I really don’t want to see him again.”

Lacey snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, right. You’ve been blushing non-stop since you ran away like your life depended on it.”

Natalie giggled, “I’m starting to think her face might actually be stuck that way.”

My mother, never one to miss a chance to join in, chimed in with a playful smirk, “Oh, just wait until she finally grows the guts to have a real conversation with him. If she’s not red now, she will be.”

Their laughter filled the room, light, and teasing, like a gentle balm for my lingering embarrassment. As much as I wanted to hide, the warmth of their voices made everything feel a little less daunting.

Taglist: @prettybubblesintheair, @storiesfromafan, @aleemendoza2425-blog

[raitonsfw]

There srsly needs to be more bby boy Nagito stuff, idk what's wrong with ppl 😭 I'm requesting Nagito with his s/o that were a couple before the neo world program, and once Monokuma announces the killing game, Nagito's sweet mommy s/o makes it clear that no one's laying a finger on him, getting very overprotective. During Nagito's hope rants, his s/o is just glaring at the classmates like "dammit y'all better listen to what my bf has to say". They/she also praises him a lot during investigations and for leading the class trials. 🤗

𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 | 𝚔𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚎𝚍𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚘

synopsis: The sun and the sea taunted you as the bear played with your downfall, but more detrimentally, your boyfriend who had offered himself up to the entire class with the extent of death knocking at his door. or; a rewritten chapter one of super danganronpa 2, with an insert of overprotective reader and slight baby boy nagito.

warnings: gn!reader and or fem!reader, spoilers for chapter 1 of sdr2, cursing, fits of despair, a crapload of hope references, a kiss with implied smut (nothing nsfw is explicitly written), nagito and reader are a couple, slight praising, affection, petnames (my love, angel, baby boy), reader would do anything for nagito, implied violence (the first victim), mentions of death, mentions of blood, primarily angst?, its not totally on brand with the request im so sorry!🥺

a/n: gave me a beautiful excuse to rewatch the entire first chapter of sdr2 (tysmmmm). i tried my best for the baby boy(ness) of it all, but my brain wasn’t working with me as i wrote so there’s only slight mentions. i didn't write past the second half of the trial because if i actually wrote in the blackened from chapter 1, the reader probably would’ve jumped over the trial stands to attack them for trying to hurt nagito. idk why i struggled so much, ugh but i promise promise promise i can write nagito better than this i swear. wc: 2.9k. m.list

now playing: moving up in the world by dagames

divider credit: @benkeibear & @firefly-graphics

The sun shone against the beach and you squinted at it in confusion. Another bad dream, you thought but then it all rushed back to you. It was something like a dizzy spell, the classroom you had been seemingly teleported out of felt surreal as you sat on the grains of sand surrounding you. You looked over to your right, your vision blurred and saw someone also laying next to you, unconscious and plastered on their side.

And then the pixelated green came into view as you blinked away the fuzziness, your heart nearly punching up to the base of your throat. You let out a disgruntled noise, crawling over towards him to see if he was breathing, ‘cause if he wasn’t– You couldn’t bear that thought, pushing it back within the crevices of your mind as you ran your palm over his arm.

“Nagito, Nagito!” You called out as you shook him gently from the rasps of the trance, hoping he’d respond. His chest rose and fell to your relief, and you studied the details of his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly agape but no noticeable scars or wounds stuck out to you and your heart fell back to normal with a steady pulse. You shook him again, this time a little more forceful, and he awoke with a start. His eyes shot open and he took in the picture before him, sitting up quickly. Nagito groaned quietly as the sun hit him directly in the eyes and he rubbed them carefully, trying to make sense of what had happened.

You saw his realization dawn on him. “Y/N.” 

Nagito immediately hugged you, much more tightly than he ever had before and you held onto him as he buried his hands into the wisps of your hair. He felt calm, the aura around him filling up the spaces in your confusion as he looked at you for the first time since the classroom. His grayish eyes clued in onto the mayhem they had encountered when the pink rabbit explained their future school trip. But what he couldn’t hide was his truth, the iniquity wedging itself in between his seams, the spiraling circles within his pupils, the hope that he so desperately craved on the tiny island. 

And you were to make sure he had all the hope he needed rushing through his veins, whatever it takes for your partner. 

When you two met each other’s eyes in the midst of the tiny classroom, you were both confused. It seemed as if you had forgotten things about the other, something in between but you couldn’t quite figure out what. All that came to you was the newfound love you had acquired for him, being as you had started dating him a few months before he was accepted into Hope’s Peak Academy. 

You tried to remember the missing piece but as he glanced at you, his mouth opening slightly, the doors slid open again and the last student made his way into the classroom. Your head had become totally muddled and as you moved on closer to Nagito, his mouth had been basically sewn shut with the presence of the new classmate. He was assessing the reality of the issue they were facing and you decided not to bother him, letting his mind wander. 

As the waves crashed against your ears in the background, you were faced with another revelation. That he was safe– here with you, that one instance made the whole weirdness much more easy to handle. 

“I’m sure everything’s okay.” Nagito assured, a kind smile resting against the frivolities of his demeanor.

“It’s just a school trip.” You nodded, agreeing with him. It was going to be okay. 

“A happy school trip full of hope.” 

“Wh-What just…happened…?” Nagito spoke in between the dead silence, the other students peering at each other with horrified looks. 

No one dared answer him, half of the students looked like they were about to faint. You included. 

The entirety of Jabberwock park had felt like death seeped in and took hold, the pained feeling sinking into the cracks of the sidewalk. Monokuma had just disappeared along with the Monobeasts hovering behind his tail and you felt the anguish of his despairing words weigh you down heavily, your heart threatened to burst as the thought of what the stuffed bear explained. 

You needed to protect him, the thought following closely as you remembered every single syllable of the rules Monokuma mentioned. You didn’t want to be murdered, your brain reeling with all the possibilities of what could happen. But more importantly– most importantly, you didn’t want Nagito to die. You were painfully aware of his self-depreciating tendencies and sometimes he scared you with quiet comments about death. 

“I guess I’ll offer myself up first if this is a killing game. Maybe we can find some hope in my death if we all work together in favor.” You heard Nagito announce with a wavering confidence and you snapped your neck towards him. 

Like that.

A staggered look spread on your face and you felt your cheeks become hot with anger. You couldn’t find your footsteps fast enough, your entire body moving into front of Nagito and you shielded your hands up. Hajime went to protest but you beat him to it, your mouth flying open. 

He was not fucking sacrificing himself in the name of hope. You cut that cord short, on second thought he had all the hope he needed at the moment.

“No one’s laying a finger on anyone, you hear me?!” You burst out, your annoyance through the roof. “Especially not Nagito. We can figure this out another way, we’re not sacrificing our friends. Don’t even think about it.” 

“We’re not going to kill, no one here’s like that.” Hajime interjected, albeit a bit hesitant. “We’re not sacrificing anyone.” 

“The fear that Monokuma instilled in everyone though...Hajime, are you positive someone won’t? At this point, it seems to be fully plausible that someone could potentially kill someone with the notion of that escape motive.” Byakuya spoke up and his words felt like a thousand bricks. 

He was right, that motive was extremely compelling. But it didn’t phase you in the slightest.

Everything you had was behind you, the white haired man leaning into your backside as you defended him. There was nothing for you at home, everyone just about had left you and you promised with a solemn word that you’d give your everything to Nagito. You tried not to be too mad at him, you understood the situation completely. He was just trying to help, even as fucking idiotic as his words seemed to be in that precise moment.

“Babe, it’s okay.” Nagito leaned down towards your ear, murmuring the pet name affectionately and you felt his hands rest against your shoulders. “I don’t mind being a stepping stone for hope.” 

You whipped your head around to face up at him, the insolence draining within your vocals as you spoke to him. “We’ll talk later.” You continued, towards the rest of your classmates. “If you so much as look at him the wrong way, the blackened will certainly be me. And I will get both of us off this island without so much as a hint of regret.” 

“It doesn’t work like that.” Mahiru stated. 

You didn’t care. Everyone looked uneasy, a great tension had begun to hover over you. If you had to be the bad guy in this situation so no one would touch your boy, it was worth it for them to be basically eying you like a mastermind. Hajime glanced at you as you nearly seethed your sentence, backing up into him as a way to protect him. “Do not touch him.” 

Without a second thought, you grabbed Nagito by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back towards the bridge to the cottages, his small frame bending down as you two walked. As you passed through the hotel gate, you let his shirt go with a sigh as you fully realized the scene you made. “I’m sorry, angel. I got too carried away again.” 

“No, it’s okay really! I was out of line.” He apologized with an awkward smile and you were taken aback by his confession. He straightened up, smoothing over his shirt with a quiet hum. “Someone will kill someone though and if it has to be me, I honestly don’t mind.” 

“Promise me you won’t start anything.” You made to say, ushering him inside of your cottage. He immediately beelined for the foot of your bed, sitting against it carefully as you closed the door behind you. You locked it and made to shut the blinds of the windows when you heard him flop onto the bed with a tired exhale. “Nagito?”

“I’m okay, just thinking.” He said with a sigh, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as you made your way to him. You sat next to him, crossing your leg over the other as you leaned one of your palms on his thigh. He glanced down at you, his eyebrows raising slightly as you gently patted it.

“No, seriously. Please don’t start anything.” You quietly said again. “I don’t want to lose you, you’re quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Nagito sat up, his shirt rucking down the pit of his tummy and you smiled at him as he leaned closer to you. His hair was a bit messy from the day and you tangled your other hand into it, smoothing it upwards. He hummed happily at the feeling, closing his eyes. “I’m happy that it’s you I’m trapped on an island with.” 

“And a bunch of other people.” You laughed quietly, intertwining his hand with yours against his thigh as you continued brushing his hair out with your fingers. “But yeah I’m glad too, baby boy.” 

You saw his face light up, a blush spreading across his face. You swore you felt his heartbeat quicken, the small pulses against your chest as you leaned into him to kiss him. He returned the gesture with another low hum, with much more oomph than usual. 

“You take such good care of me, Y/N.” He whispered against your lips, smiling into it. “What would I do without you?”

“You’re lucky to be alive, you know.” You wearily reminded him as you pulled away from him and his face dropped with the realization. You don’t know what Nagito had realized, maybe it was the subtle hint of his talent keeping him alive but you were not expecting his next words as they fell from his lips a bit too seriously.

“Promise me something if I do get murdered? Don’t find the culprit.”

You struggled to wrap your head around his words before a bubbly laugh escaped you, trying to lighten the situation. You moved to straddle his hips, trying to desperately shut up the plan that was herding in his mind. You looked down at him as he looked back up, his hands resting against the small of your back and you saw it– the spiraling, the mess of his unwanted trauma, a plot that he conjured up within the walk back towards the cottage. 

The killing game was a bonus. 

“What if the culprit’s me?” You asked, pushing him back onto the pillows and Nagito let out a quiet noise. “Surely, you wouldn’t want me to die?”

“I would gladly die by my lover’s hands.” 

The pitch black clouded your eyes and you let out a quiet yelp. You didn’t know what was going on, why did the lights go out during the party? A few loud shouts surrounded the room and you closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of everyone panicking. You huddled yourself against the wall, practically tripping over the cord connected against the wall and you felt it lift up slightly as you sat there on the ground.

Where was Nagito? A minute ago he had been next to you and Hajime but when you had fumbled for his hand when the lights went out, it wasn’t there in reach.

The lights came on with a blinding shine to them and you immediately scanned the area for Nagito. He had fallen near the back table and he glanced towards you with a panicked expression. His name fell from your lips quietly as everyone else gasped at Mikan, but you didn’t care to react to whatever had happened in the middle of the room. You rushed over to where Nagito sat, clearly in a daze and you helped him up quickly. “Are you okay? Did you trip?” 

“I did, yeah.” You dusted off the backs of his thighs for him, checking for any scraps and bruises. He hugged his jacket over himself and bit, his cheeks blushing red as you finished up and you planted a small kiss on his face. “T-Thank you, Y/N.”

You had to make sure he was alright, there was no telling what had happened during that blackout. Someone could’ve brought in poison and tainted a weapon with it, though you weren’t quite sure how it would’ve made the pat down as Byakuya had checked everyone thoroughly. But still if there was so much as a scratch on Nagito, the entire world was going to burn with you.

A stench of blood had perforated your sense of smell and you were just about to double check your partner’s clothing again before Hajime flipped up the tablecloth that had laid stagnant against the back table, revealing the first kill of the game that taunted your demise.

The investigation began not long after the screams died down, the remnants of sniffles and sobs overtaking the hallway. You walked around aimlessly with Nagito, trying to get information out of your classmates but there was no luck for the both of you. Ironic huh.

“Hey, Hajime. Can Y/N and I join you for the investigation?” Nagito asked as he spotted Hajime opening the door to the crime scene again, having just finished speaking with Sonia. “I think it would be easier for us to talk in groups rather than one on one.” 

“So smart, my love.” You murmured out loud, which made Nagito immediately take your hand as Hajime muttered out a ‘sure, just don’t get in the way.’ You squeezed his hand as you felt the sweat on his palm, trying to reassure him internally that everything is okay. He was probably just spooked that he had predicted the killing, how could he have known? 

And how could you have known Nagito’s motive? 

As everyone stood around the poisoned circle, you folded your arms across your chest. Stationed next to Mahiru and Hajime, you peered in front of you. Nagito was a ways away from the cursed podiums that had you cornered in truths and interjections, standing in between Ibuki and Mikan with dignified silence.

As the trial went on, he didn’t speak much and he certainly didn’t pass up the chance to eye you up from the distance as you stated your case when you were suspected because of your outburst. As you scrambled for an opening, something to show for accountability, Nagito spoke for you. 

“We’re all friends, aren't we?” He laughed it off, the tone switching and you almost applauded his efforts to help you. “We don’t even have any clues to go off of, not a single one. Let’s just give up, we wouldn’t want to waste Monokuma’s time.”

So you want us to die? You couldn’t exactly argue with him now, his plan revealing itself to you. A thick band of trust snapped against you, he had broken it. But you saw the hope rushing through his veins, the pure bliss you had managed to capture from the corner of your eye, the despair that battled his hope swirling in them– and you made your decision right then and there. If you insist. If it means we die together, Nagito Komaeda.

“No, he’s right! Listen to Nagito here, let’s just give up.” You advocated, the reasonings blurting from your mouth faster than you could speak. As you looked around the room with confidence practically pouring out of you, you caught everyone hurriedly agreeing with Nagito. You shouldn’t be so presumptuous but it was the truth, after all. There wasn’t a fucking thing anyone could say or do, the clues had been wrapped up by the killer, swept underneath the rug that had been laid out in its foyer.

That’s wrong, I think.” Chiaki piped up, downcasted but a willingness snagged in her voice. “There are clues.”

Nagito’s eyebrows furrowed and you shot a look at Chiaki, glaring at her with suspicion. What did she mean by that, huh? “There aren’t any clues. We investigated the entire building, searched every crevice, every single piece of evidence–” You started, nearly spiraling yourself. There was no way there was a clue, because if there was…

“The desk lamp.” 

“Desk lamp? That’s impossible, Hajime. How would that be a clue?” You argued, but he had already proved you wrong. 

“Nagito… It was you, wasn’t it?” 

“M-Me?” Nagito almost stepped off the podium, just barely catching himself as he lunged for the center. It was surely just a coincidence you found him next to the blood splattered table, the lamp cord tangled up against his ankle. A coincidence? No, he didn’t kill anyone. He simply meddled with the killer, sparking interest–perhaps fear into them. You looked over at Nagito, noticing the way his hand trembled against his chest.

Then your boy burst into a fit of laughter. It was going to take a lot to protect him now.

Whatever it takes, my love.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!