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sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months ago

Note

In Sunday's chapter the madame mentioned that Aemond brought girls from the brothel to the fortress for his pleasure, you could make the reader one of those girls but she is a virgin and it is her first job

This took so long to write, but I was so invested in the story that it almost got to 3k...oops. I hope you enjoy this Aemond smut <3

Warnings: 18+, smut, virgin!reader, (brief) mention of child prostitution, prostitution, oral (m receiving), p + v

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

As soon as you stepped into the pleasure house for the night, Madam Sylvi collected you. She had been waiting for you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed her to the back saloon, fearing the worst. You wondered if there had been a complaint from a customer and if you were about to be fired.

‘’Scrub your body with a sponge and change into this,’’ she said, handing you a muted blue dress that tied at your neck. ‘’You will be working outside the house tonight.’’

You frowned, confusion washing over you. ‘’Outside the house?’’ you repeated.

Whoever this customer was, he must be paying the Madam a lot of gold pieces to have girls brought to him because when you got hired, the Madam was clear about not going home with the customers. It was strictly forbidden.

She nodded. ‘’A special customer. He used to come here regularly, but after a recent event, he now requests to have girls brought to him. It minimizes the risks of indiscretion.’’

You swallowed hard. You had been working at the pleasure house for a week and were only doing smaller services. A nervous feeling bubbled in your stomach. You knew that one day you would be required to expand your services, but you didn’t think it would be outside the safety of the house. What if this customer was violent with you?

Madam Sylvi gave you a soft, reassuring smile. ‘’Worry not, child. I trust this customer to take good care of my girls. You will be well-paid and well-fed.’’

Once you were ready, you and two other girls were escorted to the gates of the Red Keep. A guard in armor was waiting for you, and walked you in silence through the winding corridors of the castle that you had never seen before. You kept your gaze low and walked quickly, intimidated by the impressive beauty of the keep and the royal quarters.

The guard stopped in front of two large doors. He knocked, and waited for a moment. One of the doors opened and a man ushered the three of you into the room. His hair was dark, not white. He must be at the service of a figure of the crown.

‘’Stand in line for the Prince Regent,’’ the man said.

The Prince Regent? The name sent a shiver down your spine. You had heard whispers about him, but never saw him in person. Like all Targaryen men, he must be of an alluring beauty.

The door opened again and you all straightened your posture as Prince Aemond walked in. He was tall and dressed head to toe in black leather. An impressive sword was sheathed on one hip, a dagger on the other. He looked imposing, fierce, and insanely beautiful.

‘’The girls have arrived, Your Grace. The Madam has sent her finest ones.’’

Aemond glanced at the three of you, standing in the middle of the room in your light dresses. ‘’Thank you, Ser Phillip. I will see for myself.’’

He moved past the first one, too plain faced for his liking. The girl was hurt by Prince Aemond’s rejection, but she tried to conceal it. You wanted to tell her that she looked good regardless of what the prince thought, but decided against it. You’ll offer her comfort later. Maybe you’ll both need it.

The second one had large green eyes and nipples so dark you could see them through the thin fabric of her dress. Aemond glanced up and down, and then spoke in a monotone voice. ‘’Turn around.’’

The girl complied, and turned around on the spot. Aemond circled her, like a shark circling its prey. He was cold. Completely emotionless. He reached out to touch her, feeling the smoothness of her skin, looking for imperfections.

‘’How lovely is she?’’ he said to Ser Phillip.

‘’Very lovely, Your Grace.’’

Aemond pulled the tie of her dress behind her neck, causing the blue fabric to fall and pool down at her feet. The girl gasped softly, not expecting the prince to disrobe her. He reached to grab one of her breasts, her tan skin contrasting with his.

‘’Do you like my breasts, my Prince?’’ the girl asked, a little too confident that he would pick her.

‘’Not really.’’ Aemond retracted his hand.

The girl’s face fell, but he didn’t care.

He slowly walked towards you. You were terrified. Aemond had been quick to dismiss the two other girls. You didn’t notice any major flaws on either of them. He was extremely picky, or he was looking for something specific.

You tensed under his gaze, his single eye watching you like a cat with his prey. He studied your curves, your face. He took you in slowly. He seemed to like what he saw, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up like the last girl.

‘’Turn around,’’ he commanded.

You obeyed, turning around slowly. He took in your backside, the shape of your hips. Unlike other girls at the pleasure house, you weren't gifted in the hips area, but Aemond didn't seem to dislike it. He reached out to touch the skin on your lower back. His fingers were long and elegant, and surprisingly gentle. He caressed up your back, pulling your hair to the side with his other hand so he could carry on to your neck. His touch sent shivers through your body. You felt like prey in a cage, and he was the hunter.

Your shoulders trembled slightly, and Aemond noticed. ‘’You look scared, little one,’’ he whispered.

‘’I’m sorry, my Prince— I mean, Your Grace.’’ You bit your cheek, cursing yourself.

Technically, your title was not wrong, Aemond was still a prince. However, as he was acting as the regent in the stead of King Aegon, ‘Your Grace’ was more appropriate.

Behind you, Aemond smirked. He enjoyed the effect he had on you. ‘’Take the others and leave us,’’ he ordered Ser Phillip. ‘’Use them for yourself if you wish. I care not.’’

The man bowed his head and took the two other girls out of the room, leaving you alone with the prince.

Once the door closed behind Ser Phillip, Aemond stepped closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. ‘’You are a sight for sore eyes,'' he whispered, his one eye looking at yours.

His words left you flushed and stunned. You have been called beautiful in many degrading ways since working at the pleasure house. It was nice to hear true compliments.

‘’I was disappointed with the Madam's girls tonight. All plain faced and overused. I remember my brother wetting his cock in the first one when I was a lad.’’

She didn't seem older than eight and ten, she must have been very young when she started working at Madam Sylvi's.

''But you,'' Aemond said, letting go of your hand to lift your chin and gently force you to look up, still holding his gaze.

You were so captivated by the prince's piercing eye that you didn't notice Aemond moving closer. His hand, firm and deliberate, slipped behind your neck, deftly tugging at the tie that held your dress in place. Before you realized what was happening, your dress slipped down your body, pooling silently at your feet, just as it had with the second girl moments before.

The sudden chill of the room made you shiver, a cool breeze from the large windows brushing against your now-exposed skin.

Aemond ghosted a hand down your neck and over the goosebumps of your chest, watching your nipples turning into peaks invitingly. ‘’You must be a delight to fuck.’’ His palms covered your breasts, weighing them in his hand, kneading them.

‘’I…I would not know. I’ve never laid with a man.’’

Aemond raised a brow at your admission. ‘’Never?’’

‘’Never.’’

‘’How is it possible?’’ he asked. ‘’You work at Madam Sylvi’s pleasure house.’’

‘’I’ve only worked there as of recently. I used to be a baker, but with the False Queen’s blockade, we no longer get food in the city. The place was forced to shut down.’’

You were brief in your explanation, not wanting to bother him with smallfolk problems. It’s not what you were here for. The Madam warned all her girls about speaking of your private life to customers.

‘’I apologize on the behalf of the crown, although my half-sister is to blame.’’

You gave him a nod, accepting his insincere apologies. He was probably taught to speak courtly and politically. ‘’That is kind of you, Your Grace, but I am not here to lament about the smallfolk’s misery.’’ You batted your best innocent eyes. ‘’What does the Prince wishes me to do?’’

Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. ''Get on your knees and that sweet mouth open wide.''

You knelt down and looked back up at him, waiting for another command. He took his time removing his sword belt and unbuckling his leather doublet. You pleasantly took awareness of the absence of a tunic under.

He reached to unlace his breeches, pulling them down to his thighs and revealing his heavy, half-stiff cock. It was long and thick enough to make a tear drop between your legs.

''Open wide, little bird,'' Aemond commanded, jerking himself to full hardness before feeding his cock to your awaiting mouth.

You wrapped your lips around him, bobbing down a few times to get him wet and slippery before grasping the bottom of his shaft and swiping your tongue over the slit at the head. Everytime you did this, the customers would moan loudly.

But it didn't have the same effect on the prince. He stiffened, his jaw clenching, and pushed you down his cock by the back of your head. You were under his command tonight. You'll do what he wants.

You continued bobbing your head up and down his length slowly as drool slipped past your lips and down his throbbing cock. The image was filthy and beautiful at the same time. You took him deeper, causing him to twitch in your mouth, and stopped before it hit the back of your throat. A quiet moan escaped your lips, his grip in your hair tightening.

He released into your mouth with long spurts and quiet groans. You tried to swallow all he was giving you, but some ended up dripping down your chin and to your chest, painting your breasts with drops of thick white royal seeds.

When he was finished, you pulled back and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. ‘’What does His Grace wishes now?’’ you asked, looking up at him, waiting for his next instruction.

He motioned for you to stand, a smirk tugging at his lips when he saw his seed on your body. He reached out and smeared it over your nipples. ''Go to my bed and wait for me.''

You nodded and walked across the large room, perceiving the bed in the distance. The sigils of House Targaryen were embroidered on the tapestries behind the headboard. You stared at it for a moment, then heard some shuffling, letting you know Aemond was approaching.

Quickly, you hopped on the large bed and sat in the middle.

Your jaw almost dropped when you saw him coming at you, fully naked. He was lean, but not too skinny, his muscles rippling over his body with every move. His chest was pale, and completely bare.

Everyone says Targaryens are closer to gods than to men. You've never been a believer, but, with a body like his, Aemond Targaryen must have been crafted by the gods.

You tore your gaze away, looking down at your lap. ‘’I did not know how you wanted me…’’ you said, fiddling with your fingers.

Aemond lifted your chin. ‘’That’s alright. I’ll guide you.’’

He pushed you back against the sheets and settled between your legs. His hands felt along your skin, leaving more goosebumps behind. Except this time it wasn't because of the cool wind, but Aemond's simple touch.

The prince looked down at you; rosy cheeks, bouncy breasts and soft thighs with enough meat to grab. He kissed between your breasts, and continued down your stomach and hips, pulling soft sighs from you as he got closer to your cunt.

Was he like this with every girl that came to the Red Keep?

Your question died on your tongue as his thumb pressed delicately against your clit. No customers had ever succeeded in finding it, forcing you to fake pleasure when they fumbled around. You pushed back against his thumb, wanting him to do it again. Aemond obliged, moving in motions you had never tried in the privacy of your bed before.

It was not allowed to kiss, but you didn't protest when his mouth crashed on yours. Your hand found way to his jaw, pulling him closer as he kissed you slowly. You were so enthralled by his lips that you barely noticed the two fingers that ran through your folds, prodding at your tight entrance.

You felt a slight uncomfortableness when his fingers slipped inside, your walls clenching around his digits. With how tight you felt, Aemond was looking forward to sinking his cock and pound into you.

After a moment, he pulled you knees up, and a loud gasp escaped your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut suddenly as you felt him slowly pushing his cock deep into your walls. Your hands clenched in his hair and clawed at his hard chest, feeling like you were being teared open from the inside.

You whimpered from the pain and scrunched your face, but Aemond didn't withdraw or pause. He continued pushing into you until he was buried to the hilt, causing you to gasp with wide eyes when you felt him hit something deep within you.

He looked down at you, softly grazing your cheek with his thumb, then pulled out, watching your expression when he thrusted back in. His movements were steady and slow, getting you used to all the new sensations going through your body. He remembered when he was a young boy, his first time laying with a woman was a lot.

Aemond leaned down to kiss your neck, one hand still holding your knee up while his other grabbed one of your breasts, rolling your peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You moaned under him, praising his name and clenching around him as you snaked your arms around his shoulders, needing to anchor yourself.

It was a pleasant change from what he did with the other girls, but slow sex was a dangerous zone.

When it became too emotional for him, the prince moved you on your side and took you from behind. He did not let you time to speak before he hammered his hips into you, his heavy balls loudly smacking against your ass every time. The new position had you gripping the sheets, feeling something burning in your lower stomach as he picked up speed with his hips, going faster and deeper until you both reached the edge and your orgasm erupted.

You made a sound as Aemond pulled out of you, but didn't move. You couldn’t. Your thighs were still shaking from your orgasm and your head was dizzy. So you looked up at the ceiling until your body recovered.

You didn’t know how many hours had passed since you arrived at the castle, but you were completely exhausted. You will have to walk back to the city soon…unless the prince wanted to fuck you again. A smile curled on your face. You had sex with a Targaryen prince. Better. The Prince Regent had taken your maidenhood.

Your thoughts got interrupted when Aemond rolled off the bed and stood. He grabbed a black silk robe with dark blue embroideries, and covered his naked body.

‘’Come,’’ he said without looking back at you.

You followed him through the room, feeling his seed dripping down your inner thigh and leg. You should be embarrassed, but you secretly liked it.

You stopped in your tracks when you saw a table with a whole feast set up. It was not there when you arrived in the room, meaning someone must have come in while you and the prince were— Red crept to your cheeks, mortified.

You had not heard the door being opened nor the servants coming in with the food. There was lamb, mince pies, and even honey cakes. Madam Sylvi had not lied when she said you would be well taken care of.

‘’Help yourself,’’ Aemond said, holding a small honey cake between his fingers. ‘’I assume you have not dined.’’

Your stomach was famished. You had been surviving on thinned soup and fish for weeks. The meat and the honey cakes made your mouth water. You missed the sweetness of pastries.

You took a plate, but before you could start filling it with food, Aemond spoke.

‘’The tea in the cup is obligatory. To…avoid unwanted bastards,’’ he explained, his eye pointing to a dark cup containing moontea brewed by the maester.

—

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#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #prince aemond #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd

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cloudcountry · 1 month ago

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SUMMARY: you are forever grateful that mr. chopped is safe.

COMMENTS: some domestic fluff with a side of ambiguous relationships & mutual pining :3 this fic takes place post canon!! i have not actually played the full game yet LOL only the demo so pls forgive if its inconsistent

It’s a morning just like any other, one were you wake up with Mr. Chopped sleeping soundly by your side. Raising from the bed, the blankets slide off your body and crumple around your form. The head beside you furrows his brow at the movement and loss of warmth, groaning as he moves ever so slightly in his sleep.

You smile softly and tuck him back in, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. The creases of the blanket curl around him protectively, a testament to your affection.

You spare a moment to stare lovingly down at him before you start getting ready for the day. The crowbar propped up against your nightstand goes virtually unnoticed as you slip off the bed and out your bedroom door.

Fixing breakfast is quick as always, a light meal for you and a little something for him. You’re not sure how he eats, being just a head and all, but you don’t question it. It’s okay if you don’t know things, just so long as he’s safe and sound.

As your knife slices through the fruit of your choice, you stare at the utensil and purse your lips. It’s about time you and Mr. Chopped go back and visit Mr. Silvair and Mr. Crawling. Both of them must have missed you so terribly, even if the former doesn’t show it much.

It’s always been easy to lose yourself in your thoughts whenever you’re alone in the mornings like this, but it hardly ever lasts long. Soon enough, you hear the sleepy whining and cooing that could only come from your favorite person.

Abandoning the fruit on the cutting board, you make your way to the bedroom with purposefully louder steps. It’s a habit you picked up ever since he told you he doesn’t like surprises, especially not when he’s sleepy and vulnerable.

Safe. You want that for him.

He lights up when he sees you, shouting a jumbled mix up of greetings and I like yous and want carry, and so you scoop him into your arms and hold him close as his voice becomes muffled in your sleep shirt. Your heart expands, eyes and hands softening at the familiar weight on him, his dark eyes staring up at you over the fabric of your clothes.

“ Precious. ” you say, and he blinks because he does not understand.

You kiss him, brushing your lips over his forehead, and then he does.

He’s quick to yap about the kitchen, repeating words like fridge and fruits and voicing his excitement over your breakfast. You set him gently on the counter and he pouts, but when you feed him a slice of fruit he seems rather placated.

You finish cutting the fruit with practiced strokes and gather together the rest of your breakfast, occasionally responding to Mr. Chopped’s comforting chatter. Every time he opens his mouth, wide enough that it’s almost a bit ridiculous, you end up giggling as you feed him. Each time, those fruit stained lips twist up in a frown. You assure him you’re not laughing at him, that you’re just happy, and he smiles again and proclaims that he is happy, too .

It’s easy to settle at the table and prop your phone up against the vase in the center, pulling up whatever mindless content you feel like watching that day. The vase is full of flowers he picked out just for you, colorful and bright and oh so happy. You’ve found that he’s fond of brighter colors and flashier patterns when you did his hair with your collection of hairclips for the first time. He gravitated towards the ones you barely ever wore, since it was just so hard to find an outfit to match them with...he was delighted when you offered to let him wear them whenever he wants.

A gift. From someone who just wants him to be happy.

“Precious.” you say again, looking over him fondly, brushing his hair away from his face with the tips of your fingers.

He seems pleased, preening under your attention, and you can’t resist scooting closer so he can lean against your thigh. He takes the invitation gratefully, rubbing his cheek against the bare skin he finds there, only gnawing on the flesh a little bit.

You laugh because it tickles, because you adore him and he adores you, because you are happy. And the most lovely thing about it all, is that he is, too.

#auburn's fics <3 #homicipher #homicipher x reader #mr chopped #mr chopped head #mr chopped x reader #mr chopped head x reader

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belovedivies · 4 months ago

Note

Hi its my first time I request

Can you do Raphael from killer Peter manhwa

Like when he get jealous or how did he fell in love

Im sorry if my english was bad

raphael relationship headcanons

cw: minor spoiler, yandere content

LOVE?

Raphael doesn’t “fall in love”. If he takes a liking to someone, they are automatically his property. No questions asked.

With you, however, who neither end up as another dead body in line for cremation nor a slave to his ever-expanding collection… it almost seems like Raphael goes easy on you.

That being said, he’s far from an ideal guy to be around. Your ears will most likely blast from hearing him shout at his underlings every few minutes of the day.

Your presence does help to ease the tension a bit though, and it won’t take as long for Raphael to direct his attention towards you and just forget about his useless lower-ranks.

Royalty treatment to the max, but only when you behave. This man has the most influential organization on Earth in the palm of his hand—you won’t want for anything else when he’s around.

Between the constant chase for Peter’s head and the killers' recruitment to rebuild Glory Club from the ground up, Raphael burns his money on you. Want that special edition of your favorite book but it’s unfortunately sold out? He’ll get it printed as many times as you want, all with your name on the leather cover in goldwork embroidery.

Just thank him after. Give him a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek; Raphael prefers his toy sweet and obedient.

JEALOUS?

Raphael gets jealous, that’s for sure. It’s just something that comes naturally for a love-deprived child.

His servants know better than to stare; longer than five seconds and it’s an instant death. This man will whisper sweet nothings into your ear while his subordinate lies there on the floor, dying in the pool of their own blood.

He likes to think that his possessiveness isn’t that bad. Can you really blame Raphael for going barbaric when one of the Apostles flirts with you during a meeting, right in front of his face?

And the motherfucker even has the audacity to look so smug about it.

With a territorial growl, Raphael pulls you into his lap right after; his hands around your hips feeling like the grip of an anaconda.

“Last warning, Philip.” Before he eventually joins the pile of unnamed bodies down the pit, that is.

Rumors soon go in cycle within Glory about the nature of your relationship with this unpredictable man.

For a plaything, Raphael does favor you a lot. No one can actually tell how long this will go on, or what tragedy shall befall your pitiful existence once the fun is up and he stabs you in the back, literally.

But for now, you’re still untouchable because you’re his. And no men or God shall lay a hand on you unless they wish to suffer a fate worse than death.

♡dividers credit: @xurengu0♡ ♡masterlist♡ a/n: lmao this was a really unexpected ask (no complaints tho) (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖) fyi im not taking any requests yet, but i cooked this one up fast for u. hope u enjoy reading, my lovely yuri ◕‿↼

#killer peter #killer peter manhwa #killer peter x reader #raphael x reader #killer peter raphael #yandere x reader #yandere killer peter #yandere killer peter x reader #yandere raphael #reader insert #manhwa x reader #manhwa #gn reader #x reader

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krirebr · 8 days ago

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More Than This 8

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~9.5k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and en dashes, the slooowest burn, family drama - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Ohhhhhhhh boy. Getting this update in right under the six month wire. I'm so sorry this one took so long, you guys. I had to drag this chapter out of me. But uh, it's horrifically long, so that's something?

And, I know I keep saying that we're about to start a happier part of this story and then deliver a bucketful of angst, and yeah, whoops, I've done that again. I should just stop making promises, huh?

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who has spent the last almost six months talking this one through with me. And to @bigtreefest who was so great with the encouragement and gut checks and did a quick beta of this chapter! But, of course, all mistakes are my own.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too! As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The rest of the day was quiet. Calmer, more settled than you were used to. After having gotten everything out into the open, it was so much easier to acknowledge Ransom’s presence, to coexist with him. You hadn’t fully realized how much you’d been holding your breath until you could suddenly breathe freely. It was a wild feeling.

Once you were all cried out, Ransom turned on the TV, turning it to the classic movie channel. That was how you learned he loved old movies. “Grandad and I used to watch them together. When I was a kid,” he said quietly. He didn't volunteer any other information and you didn't ask. But you watched the old noir with him.

One movie turned into two and soon the whole afternoon was gone. It had been… comfortable, in a way you’d never expected to be with him. Neither of you had said much, but the silence hadn’t been stifling in the way it’d been even just the day before. For the first time since you’d gotten here, you felt something a lot like hope.

He made two arrangements while sitting with you on the couch. The first was for movers to come to collect his gym equipment the next day so that your new room would be empty when your things arrived in a couple of days.

You were made aware of the second when you received a text from him. You looked up in confusion. You were sitting right next to each other. He chuckled lightly. “That’s the number to your new car service. Call it, let them know where you’re going, and a car should be here within half an hour.”

You stared at the number. Holy shit, you’d be able to go places. You felt silly for how emotional you suddenly felt, but it was like your entire world was expanding in real time. It felt like fresh oxygen in your lungs. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

He just nodded in response. “After you’ve used that for a while, we can talk about whether a private driver might be more appropriate. If that’s what you need.”

You looked at your phone again. This was proof in your hands that you could tell Ransom what you needed and he would do what he could to help you get it. That he wasn’t the enemy you’d assumed he was. You could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes and you took a deep breath to try to quell them without calling attention to your state.

Ransom, of course, noticed anyway. “Is that not ok?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head. “No, it’s perfect. Seriously, thank you. I’m sorry, I just–” You had no idea what to say to him, how to explain yourself. As good and necessary as the last several hours had been, he was still a stranger. And as much as he’d demonstrated a willingness to help you, that didn’t mean he wanted you getting your messy emotions all over him. “Sorry,” you said again, “I’m just emotional today. Hormones probably. I’m afraid you’re going to be dealing with this for the next nine months.” You grimaced in what you hoped was a playful manner as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

He remained serious, concerned. “I think I can handle it,” he said, his tone still so soft. But if you looked very carefully, you thought that you might be able to see a hint of panic in his eyes. You didn’t know if it was for the havoc that your pregnancy hormones might wreak or everything that would come after. You didn’t ask. You knew you wouldn’t be able to answer the question for yourself either. So you turned back to the movie.

At some point, you both started to get hungry, so Ransom ordered takeout. As you ate, you asked a few questions about the sorts of movies he liked, grateful for a safe topic to fill the silence. You certainly wouldn’t call him verbose, but you learned that he had a soft spot for Billy Wilder movies. You wouldn’t really say the conversation flowed, either, but your questions didn’t seem unwelcome. It was nice. He was starting to feel like a real person.

When you were done, you cleaned up the leftovers together, packing them up and putting them away in the fridge. It was while you were doing that that the doorbell suddenly rang. You both looked up, confused. “If that’s fucking Linda, I swear…” Ransom grumbled.

“She never rings the doorbell when it’s just me here,” you griped. You continued putting things away, sticking your head in the fridge as Ransom went to get the door. Then everything happened so fast.

First, you heard Lola yipping excitedly. As you started to turn around to see what was going on with her, Ransom asked “What are you doing here?!” And then–

And then Ransom was on the ground, clutching his jaw, and Steve was looming over him, his hand still in a fist.

“What the shit?!” Ransom ground out.

Steve’s eyes flitted around wildly until they landed on you. He sighed in relief, clearly doing a quick check as he looked at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone so much gentler than his posture.

“Am I– What– What are you doing here? I don't–” You felt like you couldn’t process anything that was happening. How was he here?? Your gaze caught on your husband, still on the floor. “Oh my god, Ransom!” You dropped to your knees next to him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I–” he started, then carefully flexed his jaw, “Fucking shit. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Your hand hovered uselessly between you as he slowly stood up. You turned back to Steve, who had stepped fully into the house, closing the door behind him, and now had Lola in his arms, softly greeting her as she snuggled into him adoringly.

“Steve, what are you–” you started but then you saw the suitcase at his feet. “Are you staying here?!”

Steve finally turned his attention away from Lola. “Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously, with a challenging glare to Ransom.

You sighed helplessly. “There’s no guest room…”

“Yeah,” Ransom grumbled as he rifled through the freezer until he pulled out an icepack, “as thrilled as we are to see you, we do have hotels here. You might be more comfortable in one.” The icy coldness that filled the room wasn’t just from the open freezer.

Steve took an aggressive step forward. “And leave you alone with my sister for even one more day? I don’t think so. I’ll be just fine on the couch. I’m easy like that.”

“Steve–” you tried but you were quickly interrupted.

“Really? You’re here for your step-sister? That’s interesting because my understanding is that you haven’t had much time for her lately,” Ransom said snidely.

Steve started to puff up in a way that was much too familiar from the playground fights of your childhood. “Oh my god!” you yelled. “Stop! Both of you!” You briefly put your head in your hands and took a deep breath, then one more. You straightened yourself and tried to deal with one of the fifteen problems at hand. “Ok, I, uh, I guess I’ll see about making up the couch,” you said, then stomped your way upstairs to the linen closet.

Steve followed close behind you, still carrying around Lola. “You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “you haven’t actually said ‘hello’ to me yet.”

“No,” you growled, as you looked through the closet without turning around to look at him, “I guess I haven’t.”

He pulled your arm lightly. “Hey, come on,” he said. “I’ll help pull this stuff together if you tell me where to look. We both know Ransom’s just gonna let you do all the work.”

That earned you finally turning to face him. “Well, he did just get punched in the face, so I think he’s a little more concerned with that than making you feel comfortable right now.”

Steve’s face scrunched up. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you? Well, let's see. You showed up unannounced and punched my husband in the face. Yeah! I'm a little mad at you!”

“He deserved it,” he growled.

“How would you know?!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sighed. You did not have the energy for this. And where were all the blankets? You remembered the pile currently in the corner of the gym. Right. You turned around and walked down the hall to your makeshift bedroom, Steve still on your heels. As soon as you walked in, he stopped, putting Lola down. “The fuck is this?” he asked, harshly, his hands on his hips. You realized your mistake immediately. His eyes scanned the cushions and blankets set up, the exercise equipment still there, your few possessions strewn about. “Is this where you sleep?”

“No! Just last night.”

“Why did you need to sleep here last night?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

It felt like a trap. If you told him you’d panicked and needed some space, he would ask why. Steve never dropped anything. And you just could not tell him you were pregnant right now. It was the absolute worst time for that. But you didn’t know how else to answer his question. “I just needed a little space.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. God, you hated being the focus of that look. It was the look he gave you when you scratched his car when you were 16, or when you were 18 and he had to pick you up from a party at 2 AM and wouldn’t tell him what had happened. It was the look you got when you were little and used to steal his paintbrushes so he couldn’t paint and he’d have to hang out with you. You’d hated that look since you were six years old. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He just shook his head for a moment. “You sounded so sad and tired this morning. And I’m just so sick of not being able to see you, not being able to tell what’s wrong.” He took a deep breath. “Not being able to protect you.”

“Steve,” was all you could say at first. Then you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You launched yourself at him and wrapped him in a big hug. He was a fucking idiot. You couldn’t believe he’d punched Ransom. You were so mad about that. But he was your fucking brother and you’d missed him so much.

He hugged you back tightly. “It’s so fucking good to see you, Chipmunk,” he murmured into your hair.

You stood there, savoring the closeness for as long as you both were able, and then you pulled away and stared down at the mound of blankets and cushions. The big couch downstairs had been pulled apart the night before to give you a place to sleep. That severely limited the options for Steve. You sighed. “I guess it would make the most sense to put you in here.”

“And where would you sleep?” he asked, his tone taking on an aggressive edge, aimed at the man downstairs, you knew.

“I’d go back to the bedroom,” you said, with a put-on casualness like you weren’t aware of the fight that was about to happen.

“Absolutely not,” Steve said firmly.

“Oh my god, Steve! You can’t control where I sleep!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“The whole reason I’m here is to make sure you’re ok and that he can’t hurt you! I’m not gonna do something that puts you back in his space!”

“Steve, I don’t need that! He isn’t doing anything!”

“Then why did you text me? Why were you crying?!”

You did not have the energy for the conversation that would answer that question, so all you could do was glare at him, which he answered with a confrontational jut of his chin. The two of you just stood there locked in a staredown until Steve muttered, “What sort of grown man doesn’t have anywhere for guests, anyway?”

“The sort that likes an excuse to stop people from staying at his house,” Ransom said pointedly from the doorway, startling you both. “What exactly do you think I’d do, with you right across the hall? I’ve already gotten a taste of how you solve problems,” he said to Steve, gesturing with the ice pack still held to his face. Then, much softer, to you, he said, “I know you want your own space, but you’re more than welcome to share the bed until your stuff gets here. That’s all I wanted to say.” Then he turned around and walked into his bedroom, Lola scampering behind him, ready for bed.

You stared after him, unable to parse the feelings bubbling up inside you. He’d been so different lately. Or maybe you were just finally looking.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve asking “Your stuff?”

You turned your attention back to him. He was watching you too carefully. “Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to feign nonchalance. “I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here. I’m turning this into my room.” He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask too many questions probably so you cut him off. “It’s been a really long couple of days, Steve. I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

He set his jaw. You could tell he wanted to fight you. Force you to talk to him. But you held your ground, looked him in the eye with a hint of challenge, and eventually he deflated, just a bit. “Yeah, okay,” he relented before he pulled you into another crushing hug. You’d really missed his hugs.

“I am happy to see you,” you whispered.

“Me too, Chip,” he whispered right back.

After making sure he had everything he needed, you left Steve alone with a quiet “goodnight,” and made your way back to Ransom’s bedroom. He and Lola were already snuggled in bed, snoring softly. You quickly went through your bedtime routine and then joined them, very careful not to wake either of them. After how eventful and emotionally wrought the last few days had been, it didn’t take you long at all to drift off into sleep.

You woke up in the morning pressed up against Ransom, face to face, your feet tangled together, Lola on your legs. You carefully pushed yourself away, watching him warily to see if he roused at all. Thankfully he didn't. You were sure he wouldn't be thrilled with how close you'd both gotten in the night.

You quietly got up and let yourself out of the bedroom, a now wide-awake Lola at your heels. The door to the gym was open and the room was empty, Steve’s suitcase wide open on the floor next to the nest of cushions and blankets. You didn’t hear anyone moving around downstairs, so he was out on a run, most likely.

You headed down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then started looking through the fridge for the leftovers from the previous morning. As you were doing that, a creak on the stairs let you know Ransom was joining you.

“Morning,” he said, voice scratchy from disuse. He went to the coffee maker and just stood in front of it, waiting for the pot to finish.

“Morning,” you said from inside the fridge. You found the leftovers and closed the appliance, finally turning to him with a gasp. You put the food down on the counter and went to Ransom. “Oh my god, your face!” A large bruise in a deep shade of purple took up most of the left side of his face, centered on his jaw and cheekbone. You rushed to his side and without thinking, extended a hand to touch him before you realized what you were doing and pulled back at the last minute, embarrassed.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbled, his attention still fixed on the coffee slowly dripping into the carafe.

You stared at him for another moment, before you just couldn’t keep your feelings inside anymore. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

He finally looked at you at that. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked.

So much, you thought to yourself, maybe, probably. But for right now, in this instance, you just shrugged. “He’s my brother,” you said, a little helplessly.

“Did you tell him to punch me?” he asked as he decided he’d waited long enough and filled his mug.

“What? No!”

“Then there’s nothing to apologize for.” He leaned back against the counter as he sipped his coffee. “Where is your brother?”

“On a run, probably,” you said, now helping yourself to a mug and fixing it up how you liked.

Ransom scoffed. “Of course, he is.” He looked at you carefully for a long moment and you struggled not to squirm under his gaze. “You happy he’s here?”

“Of course!” you said, too quickly. He kept looking at you. “I mean, I didn’t invite him here, so… It was just a surprise. I don’t know. He’s very protective, you know?” Ransom raised an eyebrow and you couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. “Right, yeah. He just– Sometimes, he just– he decides what’s right. And then there’s no changing his mind.”

He made a little hum, then nodded and said, “Yeah, I know. I have met him before. But why are you worried about that?”

“Uh, he just, he isn’t always a good listener. And he’s gonna have a lot of questions for me today. I know he will. And I don’t know how I’ll answer any of them without telling him about the– that I’m pregnant.”

“And you don’t want to?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

“No, that’s not exactly– I just–” you sighed. “This isn’t what he ever wanted for me.”

Ransom made a small noise of understanding. “You think he’ll be disappointed in you.”

There was no judgment in his tone, but it still made you shrink in on yourself a little. You nodded.

“Listen, it’s no secret that I think he’s a sanctimonious asshole.” You opened your mouth to start defending Steve, but Ransom shook his head. “Let me finish. It’s clear that he loves you. I think you’ll be ok. And if he does give you shit, well, it’ll be just one of a few things he’s done to earn himself a punch.”

“Oh god, Ransom no, please don’t do that.”

He grinned at you. “Nah, I won’t. Some of us have self-control. I know him being here is important to you. I’ll try not to do anything to mess that up.”

You wondered if the warm feelings spreading through you would always be such a surprise. If he would always be such a surprise.

“But,” he continued before he paused to drain his mug. “I am going to try to get out of here before he gets back.”

“This is your house. You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, “you should have a nice day with your brother.” Then he put his mug in the dishwasher and went back upstairs to get dressed, with you staring after him.

Ransom left and, sure enough, Steve got back a few minutes later. He went straight to the shower and you tried to busy yourself and calm your nerves while you waited for the inevitable conversation.

When he came down, his hair was still wet and he was dressed in jeans and a plain white tee. There was nothing casual about his demeanor though.

“So,” he said, sitting down next to you in the kitchen, “you ready to tell me what’s been going on here?”

You started to get up. “Do you want some breakfast first? We have some pastries left over from yesterday.”

He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down into your chair. “No, I want to know why you've sounded so upset every time I’ve talked to you since the wedding.”

You squirmed under his sharp gaze. You knew him. You knew that he wouldn’t give up until you told him everything. But you also knew how awful his reaction would be and you just weren’t ready to give everything up. “It’s just been a lot of change, you know? Of course, it’s been hard. I’m just… adjusting. It’s been an adjustment period.”

“Adjusting to what, exactly?”

“To marriage! To living in a new place! You know, the obvious.”

“The obvious is why you always sound like you’ve been crying?”

You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands in frustration. “You know me,” you tried. “I’m emotional.”

“You’re emotional?! Is that what he says to you?” Shit, he was already getting angry and you hadn’t even told him anything yet.

“No! God, Steve. That’s not what I’m saying! I’m just trying to say that it’s been a difficult transition, but I’m starting to feel better about it.”

“And I’m asking you to tell me exactly what about it has been difficult.”

You wanted to growl. Once he got an idea in his head, he was so fucking intractable. “What’s been difficult about moving across the country to a brand new city and living with a stranger??”

“Yes. Exactly. In detail please.” And then he just stared at you and you wanted to scream.

“I’ve been a little lonely,” you conceded, hoping a partial truth might satisfy him. “Ransom has to work a lot and it’s been hard to know what to do with my time.” And then, without giving him time to react, you asked. “How about you? How are you? Now that I’m out of the way, is Joseph trying to set up matches for you?” It was a low blow, but you were grasping for any defense you could reach.

“I don't understand why you won't just tell me what's going on.”

“I'm trying! It's just a lot more complicated than you realize and I think that maybe once you're in an arrangement of your own–”

“My marriage won't be anything like this.”

At first, all you could do was gape at him. Then you just sighed. “I don’t think,” you started slowly, “that you can have any idea what a marriage like this is really like until you’re inside of it, Steve.”

He shook his head. “I know what sort of man I am,” he said confidently. “I know how I’ll treat my wife.” And you saw it then, the pity in his eyes, and everything in you bristled.

Sanctimonious. That was the word Ransom had used. You loved your step-brother so much. You’d defend him to the end of the world and back. But he really could be such an asshole sometimes. And seeing him now, like this, you could understand why someone like Ransom might hate him.

“Well,” you said, trying so hard to keep your voice even, “you’ll be lucky then. To have such an easy go of it. I hope you don’t find that it’s harder than it looks. That appearances can be deceiving.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s why I’m asking you to tell me. I don’t understand why you won’t.”

“Because I know you won’t listen! You’ve already decided what’s going on here!”

“Well, it seems pretty obvious! I know you, and I certainly know him. So yeah, when you’re crying every time I talk to you and you send me cryptic texts wishing I was here, yeah, I think I have a pretty good guess about what’s been going on.”

“You’re so frustrating,” you growled a little. Then you sighed. It was inevitable. You knew it. At this point, you just wanted to get it over with. “Ok. Fine. But you have to actually listen to me, ok? Like, to what I’m actually saying. You can’t just jump to conclusions. Okay? I’m serious.”

“Chip, yes, of course. I’ll always listen to you.”

You took a deep, fortifying breath. “It’s been– It’s been really hard here. I’ve been on my own almost the whole time and it’s just been really lonely. You just– you can’t know what it’s like to be married to a stranger. We haven’t known how to talk to each other and I just– It’s been really hard for both of us.” At that, Steve scoffed, but you couldn’t stop now, you had to get this out. “Anyway, um, a few days ago I learned some news, that was–” You paused to try to find the right word. You had no idea how to classify it. It wasn’t upsetting, per se, but what other word was there? “And then Ransom found out and that’s when I texted you. And slept in the gym.”

“What was the news?” Steve asked, gravely. He was looking at you so intently. You really didn’t want to do this, but you knew you had to.

You looked off into the corner of the room, unable to get this out and meet his eyes at the same time. “I’m pregnant,” you said quietly.

Steve stood up so abruptly that you couldn’t help but jump. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he actually snarled. You’d never heard his voice do that before.

“Steve, please,” you started, both hands out in a placating manner. “Please, can you calm down so we can talk about this?”

But, of course, he ignored you. “Where is he?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, helplessly. “He’s out. I don’t, I don’t know where.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw and stood rigidly, his hands on his hips. You could practically see the untapped adrenaline coursing through him.

“Can you please just sit down?” you pleaded. “Just take a deep breath and sit down and we can–”

“I’m going for a run,” he said, curtly, then turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

“But you just got back from one!” you called after him. He wasn’t even dressed for a run. But that apparently didn’t matter. He was gone.

You just sat there for a moment, completely lost, with no idea what to do. Then you got your phone out and texted Ransom.

He knows

Don’t come back for a few hours, I think. He needs time to calm down. I’m sorry.

The checkmark showing he’d seen your message appeared almost immediately, quickly followed by the three dots that showed he was typing, but then those disappeared. A few moments later they came back but quickly disappeared again. No response ever came.

The men from the storage company came to take Ransom’s gym equipment away. You threw yourself into directing them, happy to have a distraction from worrying about where Steve was, what he was feeling. But then they were done, the room was empty, and Steve was still gone.

Ransom got back first. He found you in the former gym, trying to rearrange the couch cushions in the center of the room into something more comfortable. He paused in the doorway, Lola dancing around at his feet. “Where’s Steve?” he asked, as he bent down to pet her.

“He, uh–” you said without looking up, “he went for another run. He wasn’t very happy.”

“Fucking asshole,” Ransom muttered.

You finally looked at him, shaking your head. “No, he just doesn’t handle it well when he doesn’t know how to fix something.”

Ransom looked at you very seriously. “And if he makes that your problem, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“That's not– That's not what happened. That's not what he's doing.”

He stared at you for a long moment, causing you to look away, uncomfortable with the attention. “Okay,” he finally said with the hint of a sigh. “Well, I’ll be downstairs if you want company or…” He trailed off and shrugged, then left the room.

About an hour later, Steve burst back into the house, yelling into his phone. “Well, where the hell did that money go? There’s no reason for him to be that over-budget. I’ve seen the dailies. –No, you get down there and you get that set back under control. –I can’t, I’m not in LA. There was a family emergency. –Yeah, I know Joseph is still there. He isn’t my only family, is he? Listen, just go do your goddamn job.” With that, he hung up his phone forcefully then stomped upstairs without acknowledging you or Ransom where you were seated on the couch.

You could feel the irritation coming off of Ransom but he didn’t say anything. You were grateful. You had no idea what to make of Steve right now, how to explain him. Or excuse him. The awkward silence was preferable to trying.

Several minutes later, Steve came back down, changed into fresh clothes again. He smiled at you in greeting and if not for the tense set of his shoulders, you would have thought everything was fine. “Hey,” he said, “I just ordered the two of us some food.”

“The two of us?” you asked, looking pointedly at Ransom.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed and the fucking fake look of surprise on his face made you want to scream. “I didn’t realize he was back. Well, I’m sure it’s fine. It’s his house. He’ll be able to scrounge up something.”

“Steve,” you started. Of all the unbelievably rude–

Your ramp-up to letting your brother have it was cut short by Ransom’s hand on your wrist. “It’s fine,” he said quietly. He looked tired and sad in a way you hated. He looked annoyed too, beyond belief, but underneath all that, you also saw something pleading in his expression. You remembered what he’d said this morning. He wanted you to have a nice day with your brother. So you swallowed down all of your anger and didn’t say anything. But you cataloged everything so you could have a private conversation with Steve later.

“See,” Steve said with a smug grin, “it’s fine. This will be nice. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten to pig out together. I got all your favorites.”

Despite your protests, Ransom made himself scarce. The food arrived shortly after he disappeared and Steve dished it up like nothing was wrong. You sat and ate with him, even though you weren’t much up for conversation, despite his frequent efforts. He never said anything about the news you’d shared that morning. You tried not to be too hurt by that.

As you were finishing up, Ransom quietly reappeared, grabbing something to drink from the fridge. Before he could run back upstairs, you stopped him, feeling awful that he must feel so unwelcome in his own home. “Do you want some food?” you asked, gesturing to the copious leftovers. “I could make you a plate.”

Not waiting for Ransom’s response, Steve cut in. “Is that how it works around here?” he asked, not of you but Ransom. “You’ve got her waiting on you on hand and foot?” his voice teeming with anger.

“Steve,” you hissed, trying to stop him, but he didn’t notice.

“I mean, I get it,” he continued, and there was a sharp edge to his voice that made you very nervous, “you must have thought you hit the jackpot, huh? Some sweet, naive little thing who's too young to really be plugged into the right part of the prep school rumor mill. Hasn't heard about the designer drugs, or the girls, or the parties. All the trouble your family's had to bail you out of. That's why they had to look clear on the other coast for an arrangement for you, huh? They had to go that far to find anyone who didn't already know what a piece of shit you are–”

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS” you shouted, your stool loudly scraping against the hardwood floor as you stood up. It’d barely been there, you’d barely seen it, the flash of deep hurt on Ransom’s face before he’d covered it up, first with a blank mask, then a sneer that threatened to bring everything down. But you wouldn’t let that happen. You were fucking done. You couldn’t deal with this anymore. “Can you just stop, Steve?! I’m so tired of this shit!” you yelled at him.

“What?” they said in unison, both men facing you now, surprised.

“Lola!” you called out. “Come on! Steve and I are taking you for a walk!” She came racing down the stairs, and you quickly put on her harness and leash. Then you were out the door, trusting that Steve was behind you.

You walked in silence for a few blocks. You could feel him watching you warily, but you didn’t turn around to look at him. You didn’t think you’d ever been so mad at him in your life. It might’ve been the angriest you’d ever been with anyone. Your hands were shaking. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you finally seethed, stopping so suddenly that he almost ran into you.

“What?” His obliviousness made you even angrier.

You finally turned on him, your face heating up with rage. “You’re such a fucking asshole! You’re fucking everything up!”

He cowed just a bit at your glare but quickly recovered. “What are you talking about?! I came here to help you!”

“Well, you aren’t! I keep telling you that you aren’t but you never fucking listen to me!”

He recoiled a little, and then his eyes went steely. “Really? I never listen to you? I’m the only one who ever listens to you!”

Even if that were true, there was something about the way he said it that really pissed you off. “Fuck you!” you said and charged forward with Lola running to catch up behind you.

A moment later, Steve was on your heels again. “What is going on with you? You’ve been acting off since I got here.”

You spun on your heels to face him. “I’ve been acting off?! I wonder why! You’ve just barged in here like a bull in a china shop, not caring at all about the damage you’re doing!”

“I’m here to help you. I’ve been defending you!”

“Yeah, now! You’re trying to help me, now!”

“What does that mean?”

“Where have you been, Steve? You’ve been MIA the last three months, and now when things might actually get better, now you’re here to ‘defend’ me.”

“Better? This,” he hissed, flinging an arm towards your stomach, “is better?!”

“We had to do it. There was a clause in the contract. You know that!”

He scoffed. “Yeah, and I'm sure he reminded you of that every chance he got, as he fully took advantage of it.”

If he hadn't already set you off, that would be the thing to do it. “Never! Ok? I was the one who pushed it. I was the one who rushed It. Me. Never him.”

That brought Steve up short. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Because of your aunt!”

For a frustratingly long moment, he just gave you a confused look. Then you finally saw the realization dawn on his face. “Oh. Laura.”

“Yes, Laura! That wasn't going to be me. Not ever.”

“I never would have let that happen!”

The laugh that burst out of you at that was cold, hard. “How?” you asked. “You're always saying shit like that, but what, exactly, would you have done?”

He started to answer, but you cut him off quickly, shaking your head.

“This is my life, Steve. Mine. I’m the one who has to actually live it. I don’t need you judging me for how I choose to survive it.”

“You shouldn't have to just survive it,” he said. His tone had suddenly turned sad. It made you even angrier.

“I'll be lucky to survive it,” you growled. “You get to just waltz around, forgetting how this world works whenever it's convenient for you. Meanwhile, I have to claw and fight for just the possibility that I might not turn into my mom.” You took a deep breath. “Ransom, at least, can fucking see that. He's stuck in this mess with me, and I think he might actually want to try. You’re not going to ruin that for me just because he insulted you once at a cocktail party or whatever.” You turned on your heels. You were exhausted. You didn't have the energy for any more of this. “I'm going back. You can come if you want. But you better fucking apologize. He didn't deserve that. No matter what he’s done, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way by you.”

Steve was a few minutes behind you getting back to the house, and he did apologize, although through gritted teeth. The whole time, Ransom’s eyes were on you.

You declared you were going to bed shortly after. It was too early, but you didn't care. You were done with this day.

As you were changing into your sleep clothes, Ransom quietly let himself into his room. You both looked a little startled by your state of undress. Part of you wanted to cover up. It felt so intimate, changing in front of him. But you knew that was silly. He'd already seen so much more of you.

He just stood there for a long moment before he finally spoke. “You yelled at him for me.”

“Yeah,” you said. “He deserved it.”

“But he's your brother.” He almost seemed confused.

The absolutely absurd thought And you're my husband popped into your head unbidden, but thankfully you didn't vocalize it. “That doesn't change the fact that he was wrong.”

Ransom didn’t say anything. Just stood there with a furrowed brow. After too much silence you asked softly, “Did I do something wrong?”

He jolted a little, like he’d been somewhere else, then shook his head. “No, sorry, I just–” He took a breath. “Thank you. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. You suddenly felt so sad for him. But honestly, the only person who’d ever done anything like this for you had been Steve. And you’d seen Ransom’s family. You knew he’d never had a Steve.

Sparing you from having to figure out a response, Ransom took a deep breath, “Listen,” he started, “about the things he said, I–”

You cut him off with a shake of your head. “We don’t need to talk about that right now. Sometime, maybe, but not right now.” Nothing about his past would change things for you now. You’d still be married to him either way. It was better to just focus on the man he was showing himself to be now.

Ransom took a long moment and looked at you carefully. Finally, he asked, “Did you yell at him for yourself too?”

You nodded, then added a quiet, “I did.”

“Good,” he said, then started to turn around. “I’ll try not to wake you when I come to bed. Good night.”

“Good night,” you whispered.

Right before he left the room, he turned back to add one more thing. “I’ve never seen you as naive. Not for a moment in this whole thing.” Then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

You just stood there, in the middle of the room, unable to move for a few minutes. Then you took a deep breath and moved into the bathroom. As you finished getting ready for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that maybe you had two people in your corner now.

Your bedroom furniture and other belongings were delivered the next day. The movers set up the heavy furniture and then left everything else to you. As you started to begin unpacking, there was a hesitant knock on the door frame.

Steve stood just outside your now bedroom, looking far less sure than you were used to. “Would you like some help?” he asked softly.

“Sure,” you said, with a little shrug, pushing some boxes in his direction.

The two of you mostly worked in silence, only broken by Steve’s occasional questions of where you wanted your things to go. After a while he finally broke, “Dad’s been piling a ton of new stuff on my plate.” You stopped what you were doing and looked at him, listening. “Responsibilities and projects and– He wants me to take on more of being the face of the studio, too, so lots of parties and dinners and stuff. My schedule has been out of control. I’d think he was getting ready to retire if I didn’t actually know him.” He let out a weak chuckle. When you didn’t react, didn’t join him, he put his hands up in defense. “Not an excuse, just–” he shrugged his shoulders a little helplessly and sighed, “just an explanation, I guess.”

“You told me that I could call you any time of day for any reason. That’s what you said. And then I did, and you were nowhere to be found.”

“I know,” he started, “I–”

You shook your head. It was your turn to talk. “I spent months here feeling more alone than I ever have in my life. I’ve had nothing to do, no one to talk to. I was living with someone I thought I needed to be scared of.” You paused, wondering if that would set Steve off, but he just sat there, waiting for you to continue. Like he was really trying to listen this time. “His family’s been so awful to me, his mom especially. And you know my mom's been no help. She just kept telling me to keep him happy, even though I didn't know how. And I didn't know how to talk to him and he didn't know how to talk to me. But I knew the only way I could even start to feel secure here was if we fulfilled every part of the contract. So,” you put your hand on your stomach self-consciously and shook your head. “And the only person I actually wanted to talk to was you, and you wouldn't pick up your fucking phone. It felt like I was just stuck here while you went back to your life and forgot about me.” Tears spilled past your lashes and you hurried to wipe them away.

Steve’s face, which had grown sadder as you'd been talking, completely crumpled. He crawled from his sitting position across the room to you as fast as he could. “Hey, no,” he said emphatically as soon as he was sitting in front of you. “I think about you all the time. I've missed you so much. I've been so worried about you. I know I haven't done a good job showing it. I'm so sorry I ever made you feel like I didn't care. I–” He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment. When he opened them, they had the distinct shine of unshed tears. “Talking to you was really hard. I felt like you weren’t actually telling me anything.” Before you even opened your mouth, Steve put up a hand to stop you from saying anything. “I'm not saying any of this was your fault. I know it's all mine. But I just didn’t know how to get you to talk to me. And if you wouldn't tell me what was wrong, then I couldn't fix it. I felt so useless. Every time we talked I felt so fucking useless. And so sometimes,” he paused like he was bracing himself, “sometimes it was kind of a relief to have the excuse of being busy. To have a reason to not call or text you back right away. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I was always thinking about you. I was always worried about you. But sometimes I just couldn't fucking talk to you.”

It took your breath away, the intense stab of hurt you felt. “I’ve never needed you to be useful,” you gasped out through your tears. “I just need you to be there for me. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I just need you to be there for me.”

“Shit,” he choked out, his voice so thick. “I know.” He moved forward, then paused, waiting for you to stop him. When you didn’t, he lunged for you, wrapping you in his arms. “I know. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.”

You just sat like that, holding each other for several minutes. When you finally pulled apart, Steve blinked his eyes clear and said, “I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, and took a deep breath, “and I forgive you for doing it anyway.”

You watched some of the rigidness leave his shoulders. “Thank you,” he breathed out.

Neither of you said anything, and there was still this tension in the room. You were so tired of it. You just wanted your brother back. You just wanted any normalcy you could possibly get, so you wiped the tears from your eyes and said, “You're right. I wasn't telling you anything. I think because I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn't listen past the first two words and then do something completely wild, like fly all the way across the country to punch Ransom in the face. Ridiculous, right?”

He just stared at you in shock and then clocked the wry smile on your face. He laughed despite himself, then rolled his eyes and groaned. “You're sure he didn’t deserve it?”

You pulled a small pillow from the box beside you and threw it at him, annoyed as he dodged it easily. “Yes, I’m sure, you asshole!” You scowled at him, but you couldn’t quite keep the corners of your mouth from ticking up. The whole room felt lighter now, easier to breathe in. It was such a relief.

“I can’t believe you actually like him now,” Steve whined, his whole face scrunched up in disgust.

You shrugged. “I still don’t really know him. But I’m going to try to. We both are, I hope. I don’t know, I think maybe we could be friends, eventually.” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a best-case scenario I never really imagined.”

Steve looked at you thoughtfully, and with a hint of playfulness, said, “Well. I’m never going to like him.” His eyes got a little more serious. “But I’m really happy, and so relieved, that things are getting better for you.”

“Yeah, me too,” you said softly. Then you both went back to unpacking, conversation ebbing in and out much easier now.

Eventually, you heard him let out a long sigh. You turned to look at him as he carefully pulled something from a box. Oh. It was Mr. Bun Bun, your favorite stuffed animal as a kid. You remembered crying as you packed it away to put into storage, Steve sitting next to you, gently rubbing your back.

He slowly took a few steps to the head of your bed and then reverently placed it against your pillows. He just stared at it for a moment and then looked around at the rest of the room. “Wow,” he said, and he sounded so sad, “I guess you really live here now.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. “I've been here for months.”

“Yeah, I know. But I guess,” he shrugged, “I guess it still sort of felt like you'd be back any day. But all your stuff's here now. It just– It feels final.”

You looked around the room as well. It wasn't exactly like your old room in your old apartment but this was the closest thing you'd had to feeling home in months. “Yeah,” you said quietly, not quite sure what to do with these feelings. “I guess it does.”

Steve sat down on your bed and you immediately joined him. He knocked his knee against yours. “I know I keep saying this, but I really do miss you. It’s so weird to not have you in LA anymore. To go to all these parties and not be able to talk to you there. Or to be able to just drop by your apartment when I need to see you. Or when you need to see me.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That’s why it’s so important for us to actually keep in touch.”

“I know,” he said, seriously. “I’ll be better at it. I promise.”

You hummed in response and grabbed his hand. Now that everything was out in the open, it was such a relief to just be able to enjoy his closeness, without the tension hanging over both of you.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and spoke again. “I’m gonna go home tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“You were right. I’m just in the way here. It’s time for me to go.”

“Ok,” you replied, your voice small. You weren’t sure how to feel about that—the last few days had been so hard and so exhausting. But you’d finally gotten your brother back and now he was leaving again? “Are you sure?”

He jostled you with his shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently with a smile. “I’ll be back. And I’ll even let you invite me next time.”

You smiled back. “Advanced notice?” you asked. “How novel!”

Steve grabbed one of your pillows and hit you with it. You collapsed into giggles, feeling lighter than you had for a long time.

You spent the rest of the day with your brother, which warmed your soul even more than you thought you needed.

You took Lola out for a short walk in the evening, while Steve finished gathering his things before the car would come to pick him up. When you came back in, you found Steve and Ransom locked in a serious conversation. They spoke in hushed tones, leaning across the kitchen island to face each other. There was no yelling. No tensing muscles ready for a fight. All the same, it made you very nervous.

They both quieted as they noticed your presence. That didn’t help to quell your worry at all. “What’s going on here?”

Steve gave you his trademarked boyish grin. “Just getting to know my brother-in-law.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously then cast a concerned glance at Ransom, but he waved you off with a reassuring shake of his head. Steve was still grinning at you like everything was fine. He really could be such an asshole. “Sure. OK,” you said, resigned to whatever weird dynamic was happening in front of you. “Are you all ready?”

“Yup,” Steve nodded, gesturing to where his luggage was waiting by the door. “Car should be here any minute.”

You nodded back, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. He pulled you into a hug quickly. He just held you for a moment before you heard Ransom clear his throat behind you. “I’ll give you two your privacy.”

You pulled away just enough to see Steve look over your shoulder so he could say, “Remember what we talked about.”

You looked over to Ransom who held Steve’s gaze and firmly said, “Yeah, you too,” then went upstairs.

“The fuck was that?” you asked Steve.

“Nothing, just a conversation we needed to have.”

“Steve,” you sighed in exasperation as you separated yourself from him.

He put up his hands in defense. “It’s fine. I’m playing nice. I promise.”

“Sure.”

He took a step back and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s one more thing I need to say to you. I should have done it yesterday when you first–” he shook his head. “My reaction when you told me about the baby was awful, I know that. And I don’t know if ‘congratulations’ is something you want to hear right now, so I just want to say that I’ll be here for you, whatever you need. And I’ll be here for the baby too. OK? I just really needed to say that.”

You searched his face, his eyes for anything that might warn you that his words were empty, but all you found was sincerity. You took a deep breath. “All I need is for you to pick up your phone.”

“I know,” he nodded quickly. “I will.”

You were so torn between the exhaustion and frustration of the last few days and just how much you'd missed your brother. You pulled him into another hug. “You’re such a jerk,” you said with a hint of fondness.

“I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

“And I love you so much.”

You felt him exhale, any remaining uneasiness bleeding out of him. “I know. I love you too.”

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. “Your car is here,” you said sadly, pulling away.

“Hey, that’s ok. It’s not like they’ll leave without me.”

“No,” you shook your head, “you should go. You don’t want to get home too late.”

“Oh, chipmunk,” he sighed. “Ok, one more,” then hugged you again. “I’m so proud of you.”

You pulled back to look him in the eye. “What for?”

He took a moment to gather his words. Finally, he said, looking you right in the eye, “For being so much stronger than you should have to be.”

You had no idea what to say to that so you walked over to the door, Steve right behind you.

At the door, he put one hand on his suitcase, and with the other, he grabbed your hand. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”

You nodded, searching for something to say. “Uh, thanks for coming.”

That elicited a big hearty laugh from him. “Yeah, sure.” He squeezed your hand. “Take good care of yourself.”

“You too,” you said, opening the door for him.

He gave you a big smile before he walked out the door. You watched the driver take Steve’s suitcase from him and open the back door for Steve to get in. You stayed in the doorway until the car slowly backed down the driveway and turned onto the road. After closing the door, you still stayed where you were, trying to breathe through the flood of emotions overtaking you. You already missed him so much, yet you were so relieved he was gone. What were you supposed to do with that?

You were finally jolted out of your reverie by the sound of Ransom coming down the stairs, the tinkling of Lola’s collar accompanying him. “Steve’s gone?” he asked as he came off the last step.

When you nodded, you saw the way his shoulders slumped in relief. You held back the apology desperate to crawl out of your mouth. Steve’s actions weren’t your responsibility, you tried so hard to remember. But still, Ransom had lost the comfort of his own home for days. The guilt was there.

He got himself a water out of the fridge and then looked at you carefully. “How are you?”

The reflex to tell him you were fine was strong, but you did your best to resist it and answered honestly. “I don’t really know.”

He smiled a little ruefully. “I have no idea what’s normal for siblings.”

You chuckled lightly. “Neither do I.”

He took several steps towards you and you couldn’t help the way your body swayed in his direction, just a little. “But you’re alright?’

You nodded and said softly, “I will be.”

“Good.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the way the fingers on one of his hands drummed against his thigh. “Well. I just wanted to check on you before I went to bed.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, strangely aware of the space between you. “I appreciate it. It was a weird few days, but I think I’m ok. Or I will be.”

“Yeah. Good,” he said again.

You both just stood there for a moment, the air around you oddly charged, until Lola pawed at your leg. “Right. Well, she needs to go out. So. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, then turned toward the sink as you went outside with Lola.

When you got back in, there was no sign of Ransom, so you led Lola upstairs to your new bedroom. She immediately hopped onto your bed, wagging her tail wildly. As you looked around, all of your things almost as they’d been in your apartment in LA, those feelings you felt while unpacking your things with Steve grew in you even more. You smiled at your little dog. “Yeah, feels almost like home, doesn’t it, Lola?”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @thiquefunlover63 @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes @identity2212 @have-another-doughnut @patzammit @blackhawkfanatic @mooievis @dontbescaredtosingalong @curiousandjoyous @helensdrafts @cricket66 @vyctorya @disgruntled-cat @heyyitsreign @reader2003 @zaqnette @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @itsteambartowski @mrsstuckyboo @promiscuousbarnes @womoon @as-white-as-snow-love @bigsimperika @nerdyjeansblog @creatingjana @@titty-teetee2

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #steve rogers #knives out #ransom drysdale angst #steve rogers angst #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #arranged marriage au #more than this #kris wrote something

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fanaticsnail · 5 months ago

Note

Saw a post about how penguins "propose" with rocks. Meaning if you were dating penguin:

He would gift you cool rocks all through your relationship but especially when he's going to propose

2. That engagement ring is about to be MASSIVE

-♡♡

I loved this concept. It needed to be in a fic, ♡♡ Anon. As soon as I saw my asks starting to work again, I began this little penguin fic for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Penguin's Rock Collection

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,450+

Synopsis: Penguin finally tells you about each piece in his extensive rock collection, and you are left in awe when he shows you his crowning piece.

Themes: Penguin x gn!reader, fluff, proposals, Penguin is a thief, he is a kleptomaniac, kisses, proposal, cute things, just let him talk about his rocks.

Mini Part 2, Mini Part 3

When you first began dating Penguin, you were in awe with the small cluster of miscellaneous rocks he kept in his private quarters. There were only three or four lining his bed frame, littering the surface and adding an element to his side of the room that was something distinctly his. While Shachi kept tri-fold posters of various wanted bounties of his friends throughout the Blues, Penguin had a few small rocks.

Each time you visited him in his quarters as opposed to yours, you witnessed the collection grow in vast number and size. Not before long, the shelves and cabinets in his shared room with Shachi was overwhelmed with rocks of differing textures and sizes: all labeled and tagged with the appropriate title, size, weight, and color. You laughed at the disdain Shachi would pull over his face, the scowl permanently plastered on his mouth as he flicked the overlaying cabinet with his toes and pushed it further onto Penguin’s side of the room from his recline against his bed.

As you show interest in his hobby, asking before touching any that seemed to catch your interest, and he would tell you the story behind it. Reclining back on his bed and propped onto his elbows, he would watch you with a soft smile drawn up on his lips.

“That one was from Swallow Island, just outside Wolf’s house,” he gestured to the pebble in your hands, “Nicked it from his front garden. Wanted something to remember him by.” You offered him a soft smile before placing the rock back onto the side, just above its correlating slip of paper.

“And this one?” you ask, cocking your head to the side and gently tracing the contours of the soft shell-like stone.

“That one was from the first time I met you,” he uttered quietly to himself, slowly stepping over his blankets to draw himself at your side, “You were wearing that green shirt. Took that piece of jade from the wall near the beach.” You furrowed your brows in confusion, sneaking a look at Shachi as he attempted to remain nonchalant while reading a comic in the corner of the room.

“You remember my shirt?” you asked Penguin, puzzled at the attentiveness he took at the encounter. He slowly stepped over to the collection, gently brushing his hands over them before turning back to you.

“I remember a lot of things. The rocks-... they-...” he sucked his lips into his mouth, stifling what he wanted to truly say. Shaking his head, he returned his hat-shrouded eyes to you and offered you a smile, “...They tell stories. They help me remember. Wolf, Law, even this stupid asshole.” His thumb gestured to Shachi with his thumb, who crudely elevated his middle finger in return without removing his eyes from the pages.

“Oh?” you ask in response, smiling and raising your hand up to the cabinet, placing your weight coyly on your forearm. Further puzzlement overtook you as you peered at the expanded array of rocks, gems, golds and pebbles. “Pen, there’s quite a few here, honey. Surely you don’t have a story behind each rock you’ve stolen, you kleptomaniac.”

He chuckled at your accusation, turning away from the shelf and rummaging around in his draws. The soft rustle had you confused, attempting to peer over his shoulder while he blocked your sight with the curve of his ass and broad shoulders.

“Our first date, the time we spent in Sabaody Archipelago together, the beach incident where you pushed me into the water-,” he listed off, prompting you to interject with your rebuttal.

“-I did no such thing! You fell, I laughed, and you pulled me in!” you defended yourself, moving away from the cabinet and approaching him just as he stood, “You tried to drown me.”

“I did not,” he gasped, feigning shock and clutching both hands to his heart, “You were flailing about and I was trying to hold you still.” He chuckled at you, watching as your lips fell into a cute pout.

“You ruined my pants by drenching them in salt water-,” you spoke, falling short when he leaned down and pressed his nose against yours. Gently rubbing the pointed tip of his nose against yours, he cooed down in response.

“-Your blue pants,” he whispered, removing his nose from dancing with yours and nodding his head back towards the cabinet, “Aquamarine from the bottom of the sea where we were swimming. Had to go back later and dive for it, I’d hope you know. Hard to do that in the dark.”

He removed himself from your embrace and cradled something small against his chest.

“And what have you got there, Pen? Quartz from the first time we put on our Heart Pirate uniforms together?” you teased him, scrunching your nose and softly cradling his cheeks in both of your palms. He chuckled at you, reaching up to remove his hat and place it on your own head while cradling the object against his chest with his other hand.

“Pirate uniforms, no. Heart, yes,” he whispered intimately, withdrawing his head from yours and gazing his crystalline blue eyes deeply into your own orbs. Withdrawing his hand from his chest, he presented you with a small rectangular box lined in painted gold. Atop a small cushion lying in the center, a band of woven gold with a small, unpolished stone lying on the top.

“This was from the moment I knew my heart belonged to you,” the softness from his confession was depicted in the deep baritone, his stature slowly sinking onto his knees, “I collected all of these rocks in the hopes of finding the perfect moment to give you this one. It’s-.”

“-Is this amethyst, Pen?” you fawned over the rock, studying its shape with your lips parted and brows triangulating up to the center of your forehead. Tears swelled in your eyes as you watched his own glaze over with a soft mist of joy.

“From when we got separated from the crew, you sprained your ankle, and then argued with me when I tried to look after you,” he nodded in confirmation, his smile drawing up his face the longer he reminded you, “We slept in the cave, the whole thing covered in amethyst stalactites, and you let me hold you against me.”

“But Pen...” you bit back a sob, gently reaching down and cupping his cheek in your palm, “We weren’t even together at that point-.”

“-But that’s the moment I knew my heart would always belong to you,” he darted his eyes between yours while softly nuzzling against your palm, “What would you say? If I were to give this to you as an extension of myself? To promise to love and care for you always, to be by your side as your husband? Would you-...? Will you-...?” He choked on his words, attempting to gage your reaction by holding his eyes to your own.

You nod your head at first slowly, before your enthusiasm took over. Bobbing your head, you slink to your knees in front of him and throw yourself into his arms. Lips colliding in a messy clatter of teeth and tongues, you whimper against him as tears begin to roll down your cheeks in heavy waves.

“So, I take that’s a yes, then?” A lazy voice called from the other side of the room, prompting you and Penguin to laugh into the kiss before breaking away from it. You called over to Shachi, without tearing your eyes away from Penguin’s.

“It’s definitely a yes,” you nod. He hastily grabs for your left hand, removing the ring from the pillow and nodding at you to gain consent before dragging it over your unity finger to the knuckle.

Several bangs drew you away from this moment of solitude, Shachi’s balled fist colliding against the metal wall of the submarine while shouting: “It’s a yes-!” at the top of his lungs.

Cheers reverberated in the hallway, prompting you to shake your head at the reaction from the entirety of the members aboard the Polar Tang. You gaze down at your hand, admiring the way the metal shone over your skin and danced the lights from the crystal throughout the room. Penguin couldn’t take his eyes off you: noticing the way you beamed down at his ring and wore his most prized rock with pride.

He’ll work up the courage to tell you how much trouble it was to learn how to cast gold, welt the settings, and how he had to humble himself in front of Eustass Kid and Massacre Soldier Killer to learn how to do it properly. But that story, and its correlating, stolen, bismuth paper weight, would be for another time. For now, all he wanted to do was scoop you up, hold you close, and gush to everyone he knew how much he was in love with his beautiful fiance.

And you would do the same.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

#one piece #x reader #ask snail #snail answers #♡♡ anon #op penguin #one piece penguin #penguin x reader #op penguin x reader #x gn!reader #one piece fluff #one piece x reader

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cloververse · 20 days ago

Text

Moon 48 (pt5)

WRITING BELOW THE EXPAND

GRRRRRrrrrr this amazing page holey shit was made by my dearest friend TACOBELLA, who works on the amazing @fog-clan Catch them at: https://comicfury.com/profile.php?username=TACOBELLABAE https://bsky.app/profile/tac0bella.bsky.social https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fog-clan

Previous: Moon 48 pt4

"He is alive??” Poodle exclaimed, swatting the half eaten mice away. Trouble winced at the action but remained still, tension radiating throughout her whole body. “Oh that little ungrateful pup… You have been hiding right under our noses all this time, haven’t you…” The fluffy molly growls lowly in the direction of the trees, racking her claws against the mossy stone.

She soon let out a heavy sigh, grooming her claws in frustration. “That won’t do. That won’t do at all.”

Trouble hesitated, aware of the ruthlessness of the Hound’s executioner. Had seen first hand her power. “And what will it be done…?” Not that it was any of her bussiness, but something about seeing the cold and collected cat lose her temper like that was shocking enough to chase away some caution.

Poodle, however, didn’t even grace her with an answer, almost like she had forgotten the cat was even there, licking her paw in thought. “You were his friend once.”

“What?”

“He cared about you.” Poodle turned to face the scruffier cat, a plan clear as day formulating on her eyes. “Did he not?”

“I-if you call what happened caring, maybe love is overrated after all-“ Trouble huffs with fake humor, taking a step back, starting to feel cornered, the tension in the air getting noticeably thicker.

Poodle just laughed, equally mirthless, finally looking back at the other cat, with some sort of pity that one would look at a small kitten with. It set something off in Trouble’s mind immediately. “He tried so hard to keep your little group out of Heller's sight and yet…” She sighed. “He was a naive thing, that one. But determined enough to make every stupid decision in the book before running away. A coward.”

run.

“His heart is his biggest weakness.” Poodle continued, checking on her sharp, unsheathed claws. “Also so easy of a target. You see, it was easy to affect him the first time those he cared about got hurt. I bet this time wont be all that different.”

Run.

“You- You promised we wouldn’t get harmed if I agreed to work for you.” Trouble’s voice was starting to betray it’s shakiness, breath catching on her throat when Poodle leaned forward. “We had a deal.”

“The deal was to keep your sister fed and well trained.” Poodle’s green and blue eyes seemed sharper by each second. “Did you think we had resources to house any and all desperate Strays that come crawling? You know better than that. Or at least I thought you did.”

Run.

“You lied to me—“ Trouble hissed in outrage. “You—“

“Isn’t that what you always tell your fellow rats, love? You can never ever trust a Hound? Why are you even surprised?”

“How do you—“

“I have my ways. Eyes everywhere. Things need to stay in order after all.” She huffed, leaping down from the rock, claws disrupting the muddy soil. “Just like I’m about to find a way to let our dear pup that we miss him.” The look in her mismatched eyes was downright predatory, a simple and unmistakable threat paired with a low laugh that came before every execution. Trouble had only one word blasting through her head as she sprinted in the direction of the dirt road.

Run.

#cloververse #clangen blog #clangen #clangen art #clovermoon #page trade #welp #we barely knew ya trouble </3

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zhivaoverdrive · 2 months ago

Text

Filling the Void Breast Expansion and Butt Expansion via Saline Expander Implants.

But you've seen the image, too late.

Each image from the poster wall is available in full on the extras gallery, some with their own small stories.

Have fun.

----- As I pushed open the door, my eyes widened in horror. Lani lay sprawled across her bed, her body resembling a collection of medicine balls that had been inflated one too many times. Her breasts hung from her chest like overfilled water balloons, threatening to burst at any moment.

The soft light cast by the lamp on her nightstand danced across her skin, highlighting every vein and crease as if trying to accentuate the sheer magnitude of her transformation. The implants themselves seemed to be straining against Lani's skin, like four enormous balloons about to burst at any moment.

Lani's eyes snapped towards mine, wide with surprise and shame. She looked guilty, her face flushed like a person who'd just been caught cheating. Her gaze darted around the room as if searching for a way to make this situation disappear, but the evidence was undeniable. It was like trying to hide a skyscraper behind a curtain – impossible.

I took in the scene: her already-enormous frame now straining against the seams of reality; empty saline solution bottles littering the room like discarded confetti; and Lani's body... altered, distended by the relentless stream of liquid she'd forced into it. The four orbs of saline inside her seemed to be straining against their containment, as if desperate to escape were it not for Lani's stretched skin holding on with all its might.

"It's not that big of a deal," she said, her voice laced with justification. "I'm fine. Just... just this little bit more..."

I took a deep breath before speaking. "Lani, I know we agreed monthly would be the limit," I reminded her gently. "But you know how close you came to... complications. And yet here you are again, doing it without supervision."

Lani looked at me pleadingly, her eyes welling up with tears. "Please," she whispered, the air thickening with shame and desperation.

The shame and desperation, struggled to come to terms with being caught. AGAIN.

On one hand, I was impressed by her willingness to take control of her body and push the boundaries of what society considers "OK".

But I was also worried about how far she was taking things. Like, expanders... that's some next-level stuff.

And not just that - Lani had taken her body modification game to a whole new level by having expanders in her butt as well.

I couldn't help but wonder what kind of discomfort she must be going through with those things implanted in her backside. And yet...part of me couldn't help but admire her spirit.

I get that Lani wanted to change herself, but this was just crazy. "You're not even trying to hide what you're doing," I said, shaking my head in amazement. "You're trying to turn yourself into a human balloon or something!"

But as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I had spoken too bluntly.

"You're using expanders like they're some kind of...I don't know, saline-filled superpower or something!" I said, trying to lighten my tone.

"I just need this one more time," she said quietly, her voice filled with reverence. "I promise I'll slow down after this. It's not like..."

She trailed off, looking down at the floor as if embarrassed by her own words. But that did not last long.

Lani gazed up at the posters on her wall. Her gaze lingered on the statuesque figures, their bodies seemingly defying gravity itself - their breasts rose up from their chests like mountains, butts jutted out far behind them.

"Look at them," Lani said quietly, her voice filled with awe and longing. "They're doing it... Just look at them - so many people adore them, that one's been on TV!"

As Lani admired these perfect forms of femininity, the competing idea inside of her believed she was still the waifish girl she'd been years ago stewed. Trapped between two conflicting realities unable to be reconciled.

"And honestly, what's another litre of saline when you're already..."

I didn't push her for more. Another unnecessary question. A different tack was in order.

"Lani, baby," I said carefully,

"You've never removed ANY saline before. I'm not even exactly sure if we can. What if this is a one-way process without going back to the doctor..."

Her eyes dropped, and she nodded slowly. "I know, but what's the worst that could happen? You'll still l-" "Ah," I interrupted her, trying to sound more reassuring than concerned. "The weight of... well, let me ask you this: how much saline are we talking about here?"

Lani looked down at her chest, a sheepish expression spreading across her face. "I've got 10 litres in each boob.."

My eyes widened in shock. Ten litres per implant? That was... that was a lot of saline. A lot more than last time.

"And?" I prompted, trying to keep my tone light despite the gravity of the situation.

Lani faltered for a moment before she spoke up again. "And... um... well, I might have also exceeded 10 litres in each butt cheek."

My jaw dropped. She couldn't be serious. Could she?

"Lani," I said softly, trying to keep my tone gentle despite the shock and concern I was feeling. "You're telling me that you've got a total of 40,000cc saline forced in your body?"

Lani nodded sheepishly, her face flushing with embarrassment.

I glanced at Lani's ass and saw the telltale signs of strain: deep creases in her skin, fine lines tracing the contours of each implant, and an eerie sheen that hinted at stretchmarks. Her veins stood out like blue highways, pulsing with effort as they struggled to deliver oxygen to her skin.

"The weight of this much saline is crushing you," I said firmly. "You've already been struggling with everyday tasks for months now. You're going to continue to struggle even more as time goes on. Your body simply can't keep up."

Lani's gaze faltered as she tried to consider the consequences of her actions.

"What does the future hold?" I continued. "Don't even get me started on trying to cook dinner or do laundry. You're being short-sighted! What happens when you can't even get out of bed in the morning?"

The silence between us grew thick with unspoken understanding – a tacit agreement that more caution was needed, but also a recognition that we were both too afraid to seek help.

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"You're right," she said quietly. "I'll need you".

#breastexpansion #breastimplants #saline #silicone #expanderimplants #assexpansion

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mywitchyblog · 5 months ago

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Masterlist :

Greetings, fellow shifters and curious minds!

As my blog continues to grow and expand, I've recognized the pressing need for a comprehensive master list to help navigate the wealth of information I've shared as of know and that i'm planning on posting in the future. This list will serve as your guide through the various topics and discussions I've explored in the realm of reality shifting.Those that do not have a hyperlink are those under works that will be soon published.

My tarot Services :

Controversial Topics: In this section, you'll find links to in-depth essays I've crafted addressing some of the most debated and sensitive subjects within the Reality Shifting community. These pieces aim to provide balanced, thoughtful perspectives on complex issues.

Age Changing: An exploration of the ethical considerations and personal growth aspects of altering one's age in Desired Realities (DRs).

Race Changing: A nuanced discussion on the practice of shifting into different racial identities, examining both the potential for increased empathy and the concerns of cultural appropriation.

Permashifting and Respawning: An analysis of these advanced shifting concepts, including their implications, potential benefits, and associated risks.

The Ethical and Psychological Implications of Murder in Reality Shifting : This article examines the ethical and psychological concerns of committing murder within shifted realities, drawing on discussions about the moral ramifications and potential mental health impacts, as explored in shifting communities like on Tumblr.

Educational Content : This section offers insightful articles and guides on Reality Shifting, designed to deepen your understanding and improve your practice.

The Importance of Spiritual Hygiene : Learn essential spiritual hygiene practices for Reality Shifting, including protection techniques and energy cleansing, to ensure your well-being during and after shifts.

How ShiftTok Destroyed the Reality Shifting Community : Explore how platforms like TikTok have spread misinformation, fostered toxic behaviors, and diluted authentic Reality Shifting practices, impacting the community negatively.

How Awareness Works in Reality Shifting : Discover the role of consciousness in Reality Shifting, including theories on awareness, the balance between conscious and subconscious minds, and techniques to enhance your shifting experience.

Why Having Multiple Significant Others in Different Realities Isn’t Cheating : This piece discusses the nature of relationships across different realities, arguing that having multiple significant others in various shifted realities challenges traditional views on fidelity.

Fetishization in Reality Shifting: A Critical Examination of Age and Race Changing A critical look at the ethical concerns of changing age and race in shifted realities, highlighting the dangers of fetishization and the need for culturally sensitive practices.

Shiftcraft: Here you'll discover a collection of witchcraft practices specifically tailored to complement and enhance your shifting journey. This includes:

Shifting-oriented spells and rituals

Crystal and herb recommendations for shifting

Moon phase and astrological timing for optimal shifting experiences

Meditation and visualization techniques to boost shifting abilities

Interview with Hekate about Reality Shfting

Interview with Hekate about Reality Shifting part 2

Each of these categories contains multiple articles, essays, and guides. Feel free to explore the topics that resonate with you, and don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions or suggestions for future content.

You can find my upcoming posts Here :

Remember, this master list will be regularly updated as new content is added. Happy shifting, and may your journeys across realities be enlightening and transformative!

#reality shifting #shiftblr #desired reality #shifting #shifting community #shifting realities #shifters #reality shift #reality shifter #shifting antis dni #shifting motivation #shifting blog

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saikira999 · 7 months ago

Text

~ Headcannons for TWST characters playing Minecraft

This is a continuation to the answer to the last request!

I also remind you that English is not my native language, and if you find any errors, please let me know.

Another parts about:

Azul and Lilia!

Idia and Malleus!

Riddle and Leona!

[Jade]

One day, Jade was offered to play Minecraft....:

1) "A game about blocks...? Haha, it's a really cute idea, but I don't think I can find the time for it."

“There are huge mushrooms the size of trees, and You can live on a mushroom island and collect mushroom soup from mushroom cows...”

"...😊"

2) He downloaded the game that evening.

3) Before the game, briefly studied it and the topic of minecraft mushrooms, and when He went to the server, the first thing He did was go look for mushroom biomes.

Azul tried to persuade Him to settle in His village (Not in any case for to exploit the eel in a cubic version of the Mostro Lounge, or at least make a workbench to begin with), But Jade simply left.

leech wandered around the server, and soon found the nearest mushroom biome, adjacent to the village of Riddle (Poor Riddle), and quickly occupied it, starting to build a base right under the huge red mushroom.

4) When he learned that mushroom blocks cannot be obtained by hand or with ordinary tools, His reaction was literally: "....😊.....💀"

5) Fortunately, the kind-hearted Riddle gave Him a pickaxe enchanted with silk touch, in exchange for the fact that Jade would not allow her beloved brother to wander around Their and Riddle’s territories.

6) Now, He can get more huge mushrooms to build a GIANT mushroom and live in Him!

7) As mentioned above, His home is a giant red mushroom, proudly towering above the other mushrooms and the neighboring birch grove. The inside of his hat may not be so spacious, but over the course of the game, Jade will significantly expand it so that only the most necessary things can fit: a turquoise bed, chests, a workbench, stoves, decorative pots with mushrooms, etc. You can climb the stairs, and below, around the mushroom king, the Leech will build a mushroom garden (there are never too many mushrooms) with a small lake into which he will place a couple of fish from a bucket.

8) It’s even a pity that no one wants to come to visit Him.... One day, when Yuu came to visit the eel, He fed Them a couple of bowls of mushroom stew and gave Them a couple of dozen more bowls with Him, because His chests were already bursting with stews.

9) It seems that in this game, Jade is not interested in anything other than His mushroom kingdom, but sometimes, He gets out to other players to exchange, trade mushroom stew (No one buys it) or just out of curiosity. Once, an eel even walked along the seabed and found an underwater temple, but soon, He got bored with the ocean and He climbed out to the shore again, looking for mushrooms. He also often walks in the mountains, but believes that real mountains are much more interesting.

10) In general, Jade is a neutral player, but this does not mean that it is worth angering him or destroying his mushroom house... No, He certainly will not grief in response, or start a sword fight with an idiot in the game...

...He would just find and visit Him in reality....

11) The main goal for Jade is not even to kill the dragon, but to find a mushroom island on which He will build a second base and breed mooshroom...And when He, after driving a boat across the ocean for hours, finally finds muddy water and an island of the same color with mushrooms and creepy-looking cows, His smile for a split minute becomes truly sincere.

Expect that you will not get Him out of there for the next few days.

12) He built a new base, similar to the first one, and squandered all the tags on mooshrooms, naming Them all after mushrooms known to Him.

13) His favorite is Boletus. One day, She was struck by lightning, which turned the red cow brown and this made Her stand out from the crowd. Boletus lives right above, in the cap of a giant mushroom, along with Jade (Don't ask how He got Her there).

14) In a sudden change of mood, Floyd once shorn more than half of Jade's cows, making them ordinary, and almost killed a Boletus. In response to this, Jade simply left the game.... And then Floyd left the game...

And then, Floyd, for some reason unknown to anyone, did not enter the game for two weeks....

15) When the eel has completely conquered the mushrooms of the upper world, it’s time to conquer the fungi of the lower world!

Jade quickly found the crimson and warped forests and killed a decent number of the local inhabitants, so that no one would interfere with Him collecting precious fungi and their huge versions... Although, of course, He did not really understand why the Large distorted and crimson fungi were more like trees, but on the other hand, He will be able to update the interior (Jade will decorate His bases mainly with turquoise boards and decorations of warped mushrooms).

16) Oh, those long-legged ugly guys flopping around in the lava also like mushrooms? Great, so Jade will have new pets....

Jade will make a separate, third base in Nether, after He tried to drag several striders to his mushroom island, but They all died due to the rain... But in His new one, more spacious and richly decorated with various hellish vines, mushrooms and the items house will make lava pool for His new friends, whom Jade periodically feeds and breeds.

17) Jade made his own flags with mushrooms on them and hung them wherever possible.

18) Didn’t go to fight the dragon because there were no mushrooms in the End, which means there was nothing interesting.

19) Most likely, He will get bored with the game in a month or two, and each time He will go there less and less, until he finally leave, leaving His beloved mushroom cows and striders to wait for His master for eternity...

20) ...Unless Yuu accidentally mentions next to Him the existence of various mods and add-ons, and the eel goes to delicately request (This looks more like a polite threat than a request) Idia for to install a couple of mods on a dozen new mushrooms and related with them biomes, mobs and even decorative items and food...

[Floyd]

Despite the threat of being strangled, the Yuu still approached Floyd to call Him to Minecraft:

1) "Ahhh...? Shrimpy wants to play with blocks? Hehehe, this game looks stupid... You're lucky that I'm bored, otherwise I would have squeezed you long ago...~ Although... Come here, little shrimp! Play with ME, not with these stupid blocks!

(Insert aggressively tender Floyd sounds here)

2) After a session of tight hugs, after which all of Yuu’s bones began to crack, Floyd finally downloaded the game and, logging into the server, brought with him fear and horror to all the players in the area (Especially Riddle).

3) Definitely homeless. Floyd is not interested in construction and mostly hangs around, sometimes intimidating other players.

Of course, Azul invited Him to settle in His village, still naively wanting to exploit another eel in the second Mostro, but after Floyd started a fight there and blew up the wall of the restaurant (I beg you, don’t ask where this damned eel dug up dynamite at the very beginning of the game ), Azul kicked out politely sent Floyd outside to play.

4) Floyd is an unstable player. At first He is quite peaceful and calm, wanders aimlessly from side to side, watching the others and sometimes scaring other players, and after a couple of minutes, he brutally beats mobs or players, causes brawls and joins griefer raids. Floyd is the second villain of the server after Leona and the players are really afraid of him and even a couple of times, Idia had to kick him out of the server, but Floyd always came back using His brother or Azul as a ticket to enter.

5) If Jade is a tactical and careful player who uses tactics, evasion and shields during the battle, then Floyd is a tank who crushes everything in His path, not leaving alive a single monster or innocent animal he sees... And sometimes players.

6) Once, He beat Idia, armed to the teeth and dressed in netherite armor, with raw salmon to death.

7) Constantly forgets that he cannot breathe and swim quickly underwater, and is sincerely indignant when he dies at the bottom due to lack of oxygen.

8) Periodically, Floyd spends the night either with other players (Sometimes without their permission), or in the open air.

9) His favorite pastime is parkour and climbing everything possible. Sometimes Floyd jumps on the buildings of other players, original buildings in Minecraft, or a couple of times he even builds a “challenge path” for himself so as not to get bored. Sometimes Jade and Yuu help Him with construction.

10) Ortho will teach Him how to create his own worlds and install mods and parkour maps, which, surprisingly, will keep the eel busy for a long time.

11) He is absolutely invincible in joint parkour competitions held on the server and even beat Idia and Lilia in a surprisingly short time, for which he received a well-enchanted set of netherite armor... Which He almost never uses.

12) He spends a lot of time at the bottom and has already killed all the drowned people and even took a couple of tridents from them, which, however, he hardly uses and hits his enemies with the first thing that comes to hand.

13) He openly hates mushroom biomes, and only went to visit his brother a couple of times, and only because other players didn’t let him spend the night, and he didn’t want to sleep outside... And also because, there’s a little goldfish cute village nearby.

14) Of all the players, he most often pesters Riddle, sometimes starting playful fuss with Him, which usually ends in a fight or destruction of His village.

15) He also likes to mischief and mix things up in Riddle’s chests, interfere with Jamil in His kitchen on the server, distract Azul or mess with Jade... Yuu, He also often annoys, preventing Them from doing what they love and begging for attention.

16) He constantly dies and gets very angry about it.

17) Single-handedly killed the wither... With the same raw salmon...

18) Enters the server with volatile interest. Sometimes, the game suddenly becomes boring for him and Floyd doesn't log in for a few days, and then suddenly returns to make a new mess.

19) Floyd was among those players who went to kill the dragon (Ortho persuaded Him to put on armor and take with Him at least something other than raw salmon)...

And He took the raw cod.

And in The End, He was mainly busy gnawing the endermen running after other players and the dragon and sometimes switching to the dragon, continuing the aggressive beating of everyone possible... After the endermen and the dragon, He would switch to the players.

20) After defeating the dragon, Floyd played Minecraft for some time until He finally got tired of it and forgot about the server.

Perhaps He will still occasionally enter the game for the sake of parkour, but parkour in the game will never compare to the flight of a free eel on the walls and roofs of a college, under the loud cursing of teachers and the director, in reality.

Thank you for your requests! I will also be happy to receive new requests and reblogs! :D

I was asked to make headcanons about freshmen. I'll deal with it a little later~

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dailyfigures · 1 year ago

Note

Do you have pictures of your personal collection if you’re comfortable sharing? Hearing abt the miku figures u have made me curious! Love the blog as always ⭐️

thank you anon! honestly i have been waiting for someone to ask me that so yes! i do!!! :)

little disclaimer is that my collection is always a work in progress so i don't love how some of my shelves look rn but it changes all the time so that's okay!

here's a general overview and i'll do a shelf by shelf tour under the cut!

starting off with my favourite madoka magica set! i love how dynamic the poses are and they look so badass but delicate at the same time <3

and my second favourite madoka magica set! this madoka was actually my first scale figure ever :)

ofcourse i need a homumado shelf <3 i don't usually put non-scale figs in here but that sitting homura just matches the madoka too well so i had to make an exception!

i try to have a theme for each shelf so as you see this one is like a traditional clothing shelf!

this is my halloweeney shelf! definitely will be expanding this in the future as i am obsessed with halloween <3

these ladies don't have much in common but they all have some hot/deep pink in them so i still like them together!

this is my racing/street style miku shelf! (it's starting to sound far fetched but these shelves all make perfect sense to me ok)

ok this one is not supposed to be like this but neither of them fit anywhere else so they're just chilling down here for now. will change as soon as i get new figs that match either of them!

my beautiful goth girlfriends! they can't really hold hands physically but they are holding hands mentally <3

my beloved annoying men <3 btw dabi is a 1/8 scale and gojo is a 1/7 so it's crazy how big dabi turned out i was so surprised!

chainsaw shelf! sadly this denji turned out kinda bad but together with bishoujo ash williams i do kinda like him....they're cool together :)

and lastly the rest of my horror bishoujo ladies! this shelf is a little empty rn but i have the friday the 13th one, the hellraiser one, the other beetlejuice version (striped jacket), the other pennywise version (coloured instead of monochrome) and the other ash williams version (groovy version aka extra bloody) in the mail rn so that's super exciting!

that's my whole scale figure display! i have some scale figures in boxes that i'm planning on selling and i obviously didn't include any of my nendoroids and prize figures, since those are mostly in boxes rn until i figure out a good way to display them.

this was very fun for me to talk about so thank you so much for asking anon and thanks for reading everyone!!!! <3 and let me know if you have any questions about anything!

#btw if anyone comments on the dust i WILL be pressing charges!!!!!!! i do not wanna hear it!!!#ok that's all thanks again if you read all that :3 #me.txt #ask #anon

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21wanderer · 1 year ago

Text

Final Goal

Body a day - #30: Pecs

The final entry in @max-the-many's challenge.

“Paul? Why?” those were Lucas’s last words before he collapsed on the floor, his hand still pressed against his throat, his gaze becoming vacant. I chuckle, “you really haven’t figured out yet? I’m not Paul,” I pinch my cheek and pull, making my face distort grotesquely as Paul’s face detaches from my own underneath. I let go and Paul’s face snaps back in place, restoring my disguise. There’s a brief expression of soul-crushing horror on Lucas’s face, but then it disappears as the sparks in his eyes fade.

“Paul was a really nice disguise, as was your other friend, Stefan, but they were just the means to an end,” I say gloatingly to the unconscious hunk on the floor, kneeling to stay level with him, “you were always my final goal!”

There’s no response, Lucas seems to be well on his way in the conversion, soon he’ll be ready to wear.

“All it took was a couple of bodysuits to get close to you, your friends will become part of my collection, but you – you are the crown jewel.”

I begin to undress, taking off Paul’s bike leathers, his undersuit and the rest of his motorcycle equipment.

I place my hands on Paul’s forehead and begin to push it backwards, causing his mouth to expand for my own head to poke through it. Feeling the air on my original face feels strange and weirdly unfamiliar, but I’m not staying like this for long, once I’m inside Lucas, I’ll never take him off again.

Slowly I squeeze out of Paul’s skin, struggling to get my body out of his. It isn’t exactly a graceful transition as I clumsily pull out of Lucas’s biker friend, then again nobody is going to know.

I let go of Paul’s skin, letting it collapse on the floor as I eye up my new possession: Lucas Wilson.

He’s ready. I lift up the hollowed-out skinsuit, that used to be Lucas. I was aroused and excited with making this my new permanent body, but I wanted to savour the moment. I strip Lucas, pulling off his clothes piece by piece, placing them in a neat little pile, smelling them as I remove them – it’s a musk, I can’t wait to make my own.

Stripped naked like myself, I admire Lucas’s beautiful and sculpted body, those gorgeous muscles, especially those pecs. And they are all mine!

I carry the Lucas-suit into his bedroom, technically it’s my bedroom now – almost. I place it on the bed, even when deflated and visibly hollow, this body still looks amazing.

I run my fingers gently across his impressive chest, his defined abs, (they aren’t exactly rock-hard, but they will be, once I’m inside,) his well-endowed… his thick thighs and calves. I also run my fingers down his massive arms, from his broad shoulders, to his toned biceps and triceps and big hands. Finally I run my fingers across his angelic, handsome face, distorted by the lack of a skull, but still beautiful. I’m insatiable and feel like I’m about to burst with excitement, I can’t delay this any further.

I grab Lucas and stretching his mouth wide open, I begin to slither in. It’s always such an indescribably arousing feeling to pull on a bodysuit. It’s warm, smooth and squishy inside, and I slid my feet in like I had done a few times before taking my time to get the toes in. I pull Lucas up around my legs, his muscular legs now back to life. I slip his ass over mine and I slip my own meat into his; and like pulling it on like a condom, it springs to life, perfectly reflecting how aroused I am.

I pull Lucas’s mouth further up my torso, making my flat and featureless stomach disappear, and be replace with Lucas’s sculpted abs. I keep pulling, so that I can get the pecs almost in place, then I plunge my hands into Lucas’s impressive arms. Stretching out Lucas’s mouth wide enough to pass my shoulders, I finally get the upper torso into place. Running Lucas’s finger across my wide shoulders, muscular arms and perfect pecs, I smile to myself, before I flex hard, the muscles respond flawlessly. They are ready to serve their new master. I look at my reflection, seeing my face one final time, I must admit, that this pristine body suits me, but I want it all. I then stretch Lucas’s mouth one final time to stretch it over my head, then I let go with a snap. It’s dark for a moment, but I soon open my eyes and see the room again through new eyes.

The second-to-last thing I have to do is to push Lucas’s facial features into place. Staring insatiably as my handsome features fall into place, the facial massage has done it’s trick, I pull a few faces, it’s perfect. “Looking good, Lucas, looking really good,” I say to the stud in the mirror with my new voice.

I rub my new pecs, I’ve dreamt of rubbing hands my hands all over them since I first saw them on Lucas’s social media, and now they’re all mine! I twist the nipples, each placed on a big slab of muscle. My muscles!

Finally I inject myself with another syringe, I am making this process irreversible. I am Lucas, now and forever. I have never tried this injection before, but it feels like I’m bubbling inside, binding with my new skin, I can feel my senses sharpen and I feel ‘more real’ than ever.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I laugh, a fiendish laughter expressing my sheer delight of my accomplishment. I rub my nether regions, not able to contain myself any longer and a chill rushes through me, down my spine as I climax satisfyingly. Not bothering to clean up the stains right now, and done with what would only be the first of many sessions of self-gratification, I walk out of the bedroom, where I left the Paul-bodysuit. I smirk to myself, then I grab Paul’s motorcycle leathers, the ones I arrived in, and begin pulling them on my naked body. I’m now bigger and stronger than Paul, so the suit is going to get tested to see if it can contain my new muscular frame. I had no reason to worry, the suit is a perfect fit. It looks even better on Lucas me, than on Paul. Lucas doesn’t have a lot of motorcycle gear, but I’ll make sure to change that, in the hallway I find Lucas’s own motorcycle boots and gloves, well, my motorcycle boots and gloves, both several sizes bigger than what I wore before, but now they fit perfectly on my feet and hands. Riding a motorcycle as Paul was incredible, but going as Lucas is going to be many times better, but it’s going to have to be a short ride for now, there’s so much else I have to do - to put this new body to the test. Pecs and everything!

#male body transformation #body a day #male transformation #male body suit #male bodysuit #body theft #identity theft #body suit tf #life takeover #male skinsuit #masking #male masking #male bodysuit tf #leather biker #male skin suit #stolen body #stolen clothes #stolen face #stolen identity

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awoogayanderes · 2 years ago

Text

ME AND MY HUSBAND

➪ pairing : fyodor dostoevsky x reader

➪ sypnosis : in which you start having your regrets of being engaged to fyodor, unfortunately for you, it’s too late

➪ warnings : gaslighting, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, religious practices

➪ other notes : though this fanfic is fem implied, they/them pronouns are used, only “wife” is mentioned, im also not entirely sure how wedding vows work but i tried my best

you didn’t know why you accepted. maybe it was a glimpse of hope you saw, or maybe it was fyodor’s threatening eyes. “will you marry me,” four simple words that you knew would change the course of your life. you did love fyodor, but it was more fear that made you stay with him. even then, you accepted and here you are now, shopping for your wedding attire.

you were with sigma, knowing that nikolai would make it about himself or fyodor rather than you. you admired sigma, mostly always collected despite being crushed on the inside. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy being more with him than fyodor. “how about this one?” the young man asked handing you something to try on. “i’ll try it on,” you say sadly smiling, regretting saying yes.

it looked perfect on you. wrapping around the right parts, you knew this was the one. sigma sweetly smiled at you and complimented how it looked on you. yet he couldn’t help but notice that your smile didn’t expand. “is something troubling you,” he asked confused. sigma didn’t know much about weddings but he knew that those who are getting married, should be over the moon excited, so why weren’t you..?

“do you think it was the right choice for me to accept fyodor’s proposal?” you unintentionally blurted out. sigma’s eyes widened in shock. noticing his expression, you retracted your statement. “sorry, just pretend i never said that, just some stupid pre-marital doubts,” you say hoping that sigma won’t question you. thankfully, he just nodded, staying quiet.

as you returned home, if you can even call it that, you decided that you would talk to fyodor, he would ease your thoughts, right? “fedya,” you go up to him as he types away on his keyboard leading to many monitors. he hums, letting you know he’s listening without looking at you. “do you think we’re getting married too soon?” his typing stops as he looks at you.

“you’re saying you don’t love me anymore,” he asks with a frown on his face. “no, i’m not saying that,” you plead. “it seems as if you don’t appreciate my effort,” fyodor’s calmly said. “i-i do,” you say, regretting ever coming up to him. he stands up, walking towards you, placing a delicate hand to your cheek. “then get with the program,” he smiles, knowing that he can destroy you with that one touch of his palm.

almost like a fever dream, time moves quickly and wobbly, now here you are in your wedding attire. you didn’t have anyone to walk you down the isle, it was almost embarrassing. ivan was the officiant, unsurprisingly. you don’t pay attention to any of his words, instead you look at your surroundings. you see only nikolai and sigma sitting in the audience silently watching. you feel fyodor’s hands squeeze yours.

it was his silent sign to not embarrass him and start paying attention. “fyodor dostoyevsky, do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect them, forsaking all others, and holding only unto them forevermore?” ivan asks fyodor, “i do,” he says staring at you almost lovingly like. “y/n l/n, do you promise to love, honor, cherish, obey, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forevermore?”

obey? that wasn’t in fyodor’s vows, why was it in yours? again, fyodor squeezed your hands. “i do,” you murmured timidly. with that said, fyodor said his final vow, “in the name of god, i, fyodor dostoyevsky take you, y/n l/n, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. this is my solemn vow.” with this he put the ring on your finger.

you parroted the same vows, “in the name of god, i, y/n l/n take you, fyodor dostoyevsky, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. this is my solemn vow.” you put the ring on his finger shaking as you do so. “with these rings, i thee wed,” ivan said after the formal interchange.

“by the power vested in me by the name of the holy spirit, i now solemnly declare you husband and wife. let no one put asunder those that have been joined together today in the presence of almighty god. you may now seal this declaration with a kiss,” ivan declared, soon followed by you and your husband kissing. it was the final seal that gave your soul to satan.

#written by terra #sincerely terra #engraved with bitterness #bsd #bsd manga #bsd x reader #bsd manga spoilers #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor angst #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

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masterjedilenawrites · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! How about a good old hurt/comfort whump type prompt like a "this is gonna hurt" or the more fluffy "hey, don't look at that. Look at me". Maybe with Boba Fett or Mando.

Din Djarin x Reader | 1.9k words

Content: Hurt/Comfort, detailed descriptions of pain and injuries, a lil fluff toward the end

Pain, unlike any you'd ever felt before, radiating from the point of impact throughout the rest of your body. That was all you could think about as you lay on the ground, blinking up at the stars and holding on to whatever may be left of your life.

Neither of you had seen the ambush coming, which made your efforts to fight against it that much more chaotic. Din was a trained and skilled fighter, and even he had been struggling. You, whose abilities paled in comparison, had stood no chance. You ran as soon as he told you to, and then within the blink of an eye, you found yourself flat on your back wondering whether death may be the better option.

It was impossible to tell how long you lay there... writhing, sweating, praying. You couldn't even scream, let alone comprehend the passage of time. Even one second of this pain was far too long. When he finally came, you swore you'd aged years.

"Stay with me..."

"Hang in there..."

He repeated himself over and over. Or perhaps your delirious mind was replaying his words over and over. You weren't sure how you suddenly ended up inside of a cave. You preferred the view with the stars, to be honest.

"Din," you croaked out through cracked lips.

You knew was around somewhere; you could feel him in the air that gently moved around you. But it was hard to tell if he was tending to you in any particular way as your whole body radiated. Pain, pressure, heat... it swirled in and out with your vision, your consciousness.

"This is gonna hurt," you heard him say at some point and it almost made you laugh. Hurt. You were well past hurt now, Djarin.

And then the pain got worse. Thank the stars you hadn't actually laughed.

Where before it felt like your body was expanding with hot, heavy air, now it was like an electric bolt was slithering from your leg across every other appendage. You could taste it. There were sparks in your eyes. Whatever Din was trying to do to help, it only seemed to be making it worse.

You must have blacked out. You were opening your eyes again but couldn't remember ever closing them. You felt weaker. The pain was still there, but it felt... hidden? Like someone had thrown a blanket over it, trying to hide it from sight. It was as if your body had decided it could no longer feel something that intense again.

You risked using what energy you had to lift your head. You wanted to see the damage, what all the fuss was about. It was your right leg, gnarled and twisted in a bloody mess. There was blood all over the ground surrounding you, definitely more than should be outside of your body. No wonder you felt so tired.

"What the hell..." you breathed out in shock.

Din was by your leg, alternating between work on some kind of split and adding stitches to keep the blood at bay. As soon as you moved, he immediately shifted over to get you to lay back down.

"Hey, don't look at that. Look at me."

You did, and there was something off about what you were seeing. Din's large brown eyes met yours, full of a sort of strained determination, a warrior's hope that if he just pushed a little more, a little harder, the fight would soon be won. His hair was matted to his head in a sheen of sweat, and flecks of blood - likely yours - highlighted one side of his jaw. It would have been a little hot in any other circumstances. You'd always wondered if he ever looked more haggard than the cool and collected beskar helmet ever let on...

And that's when it hit you. He didn't have his helmet on.

"I just have a few stitches left," he was saying, voice completely unfiltered. "And then I can tighten the splint and that should keep your leg stable enough to travel. The bone will take a long time to reset, but if we can make it to the ship, I can get you somewhere safe where you can heal in peace. I just need you to stay strong a little while longer."

You didn't hear a single word he said. He had a hand clasped under your neck, his thumb brushing soothingly just by your ear. His eyes were so beautiful. They pleaded with you to stay awake, to keep looking.

You were dreaming.

You must be dreaming.

You were unconscious, pulled into an unknown state of being where your mind conjured up pleasant, wonderful images to keep the pain at bay, to keep you alive and sane. That's all this was. Din would never remove his helmet, not even for you.

"Stay strong," he said, squeezing the back of your head just enough to be reassuring. "I promise I'll get you out of here."

Those beautiful brown eyes disappeared and you were faintly aware of the pain starting up again in your leg, but you didn't care. So what if it was a dream. Gods, what a thing to dream of. You clung to the image and let yourself drift away with it peacefully....

* * *

It was strange, all the different ways one could feel pain. Sometimes sharp, sometimes dull. Sometimes hot, sometimes cold.

The pain you felt when you woke again was definitely on the colder, number side, at least so long as you continued to lie still. It sucked, but it was a relief from what you'd endured before. Any movement that affected your general hip and leg areas, though, brought those sharp, prickly stings. So you did your best to limit your movements.

The view you had now was of the Razor Crest ceiling. You didn't remember the journey here at all. How had Din even managed? You shifted your hands a little. They were set at your sides and glided along familiar patterns of fabric, your own blankets. He had moved your cot out into the main hull, probably to better tend to you as needed.

Next, you tried testing your voice. You assumed Din would be up in the cockpit, trying to find a medical facility to take you to for better care. But something within you yearned to have him closer, to know you were not alone in this, that everything would be okay.

You could get out a few croaks, garbled groans that didn't resemble any known language. But that was all it took anyway. Din had been right there, just outside your field of vision. He came into view at your call.

He had his helmet on.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he was quick to reassure. A gloved hand laid gently on your shoulder but it didn't squeeze, no fingers caressed.

So maybe you had dreaming after all.

You felt a little disappointed, but that quickly passed now that you simply had him here with you again.

He brought some water up to your lips and helped you drink from it. You winced a few times as you lifted your head and jostled your spine, and therefore your hips and leg. But it was worth getting some hydration and helping bring back your voice.

"What the hell even happened," you managed to string together some words after you finished and settled back down.

Din's helmet just shook slowly, like he couldn't even comprehend the events. "It was all my fault. I--"

"Don't you dare say you should've seen them coming," you warned, knowing how he got with things like this. "And I wasn't asking about the ambush. What the hell happened to my leg?"

"Speeder bike. Caught you right in your side, fractured your femur. Worst bone to break. You're stable now but you'll have a long recovery time."

"Lucky me," you sighed.

"You lost a lot of blood, too," he added.

"Well, at least I'm alive," you offered, mostly to be dramatic. But a cock of his helmet and you knew those words carried much more weight.

"Yeah," he agreed somberly. "It was bad. I was... worried, for a while."

You didn't know what to say to that. If anything, you wished you could be the one to come to his side and provide him with comfort and healing. This whole situation was messed up.

Din sat back down beside you and you did your best to shift your head and keep him in view. He had his hands resting on the edge of the cot and his helmet was trained on them in thought.

"Do you... remember anything?" he asked timidly after a few moments.

You immediately remembered his face. The line of stubble along his upper lip. How his hair curled slightly along his temple. Those big, beautiful brown eyes....

"Bits and pieces," you responded.

"Anything in particular?"

Now you were wondering if maybe it hadn't been a dream after all. He was acting like he didn't want to get caught for something.

"You really want me to revisit my trauma so soon, Djarin?" you teased.

"No, no, of course not," he quickly backpedaled and you both fell into an awkward silence for a minute.

You finally decided to pry a little further "...Why?"

"No reason."

"Hm." He wasn't giving you much to go off of. This was getting silly. "Well, come to think of it, I do remember something... odd..."

"Oh?"

His hand gripped the blanket anxiously next to you. You looked at his helmet and desperately wished you could see beyond it, to see how he felt so you could know what he wanted.

Oh but who were you kidding? You knew him well, just as he did you. You knew exactly what those eyes would be pleading for you to say, because you knew what was important to him. So you put him out of his misery.

"But you know, it's all so fuzzy. I was probably just hallucinating."

You slid your hand across to rest against his and gave it a short squeeze. He visibly relaxed and that made you just as happy as it would have been to hear him admit what had really happened.

"Okay, good. Um, I mean, that's... that's normal. You were in and out of it a lot."

Din let out a nervous breath but then gently twisted his hand around to hold yours properly.

"Were you really worried about me?" you asked.

He nodded his head slowly. "Yeah... yeah, I was."

You gave a comforting little smile and squeezed his hand again. "Well, thank you, for being there for me. And being here now."

"Of course. This is the way."

Normally you would've rolled your eyes at that, but now it was reassuring. Encouraging, even. In some ways, it symbolized a bond between you that you'd wondered would ever come. You'd been traveling together long enough, fighting together and dining together and making decisions together. Now you were helping each other live. He'd gotten you out of a firefight, pieced you back together, hefted you unconscious across a forest. And now he was staying, right here, right beside you, for no other reason than because he could.

And maybe, just maybe, he had given a little part of himself to you, too. Maybe on accident, sure, but meaningful nonetheless. You would hold that piece of him close to your heart, and keep it safe there for as long as you continued to live.

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#star wars #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #one shot #hurt/comfort #fluff #pain #injuries

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writing-for-life · 5 months ago

Text

Dream’s Therapist

Siblings

I am in the last throes of preparing with previous session notes (Intake, Insomnia, Nightmares, Emotions, Parents) when my receptionist informs me that the client has arrived. Slightly early again, but we are getting used to it at this point, to the degree that it would seem patently strange if he were on time or late. She informs me he has, as usual, brought a book to pass the time.

When the client walks into my office, I note said book is “Molloy” by Samuel Beckett, which he holds in his right hand. A moment later, it has disappeared, and I catch myself wondering where to. In any case, his body language tells me he is not in good spirits today: The coat stays on, he does not talk at all (usually, he at least greets politely, if slightly formally), and he just takes his seat without waiting for me to bid him to sit (which he usually does). As he sits down, he huffs (I can’t call it anything else).

I decide to bring up the client’s homework at the beginning of the session to get it over and done with. The question was whether it were truly paradoxical to allow himself to dream while thinking he is responsible for other people’s dreams.

DT: How did the homework go?

Dream (I notice he purses his lips): I do not wish to talk about it.

DT: You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you could…

Dream (He actually interrupts me): Then what is the point (I notice he does that overly plosive T again) of coming here?

DT (It’s one of those days again): Well, it is you who said you don’t wish to talk about your homework? (He glares at me, pouts but stays stumm.) Look, it isn’t really for me to tell you what the point of coming here is, to quote you. Even if I have thoughts about it. Can you remember why you want to come here?

Dream (The silence lasts four minutes): I have walked an eternity’s worth of dreams. Yet, I mostly remain the observer and never seem to touch anyone’s… soul.

DT (The homework hit a nerve. He definitely engaged with the question): So you long for connection?

Dream: When the last dreamer forgets my name, I will cease to exist (The delusion is in full force, but I am starting to understand why). There is no true connection for me.

DT: What makes you think that people who care will forget about you?

Dream (I notice a sound not unlike that of a strangled cat): Because no one remembers me as soon as they wake.

DT: Well, I’m wide awake, and…

Dream: (I notice he mumbles something that sounds like, “Unfortunately.”)

DT: Pardon?

Dream: No matter.

DT: As I was saying: I am wide awake, and I remember you; otherwise this would be very hard to do.

Dream (He frowns so hard that I can almost feel it physically, but he remains silent. Today will be like pulling teeth I guess.)

DT: If you long for connection, did you ever try to initiate it?

Dream (He snorts, only to then look out the window. The silence only lasts around a minute this time): Yes. (I am waiting because I initially think he might expand. He does not).

DT: What about your siblings? You told me previously that the relationship with some of them is fractured. What about the others? Anyone you’re close to? Or at least get along with?

Dream: My elder sister… perhaps.

DT: Okay, that’s a start. Can you tell me a bit about her and your relationship?

Dream: She is everywhere, at all times, to collect souls and guide them to the afterlife (I am briefly contemplating whether she is really in the funeral business or if this is one of his strange allegories again, but I let the thought slide). I envy her certain sense of… detachment.

DT: And why is that?

Dream: She quite possibly carries the heaviest burden of all of us. And still, she remains… optimistic, kind, compassionate. She perplexes me.

DT: Would you say she is the sibling you're closest to?

Dream: (I notice a certain sense of hesitation): Perhaps she understands the nature of our existence most. But even she cannot fully grasp my realm. Or understand me, for that matter.

DT: Did you ever try to explain?

Dream (He looks at me as if I am someone very young and very stupid. I am neither. Well, at least I am fairly certain about my age): What I am cannot be explained or understood. By no one.

DT: Try me.

Dream (He leans forward in his chair, cocks his head to one side and looks at me intently): Will you answer a question first?

DT: That would depend on the question—I can’t promise anything.

Dream: You mortals hardly ever do.

DT: Just ask and see what happens.

Dream (I notice he is staring at my paperweight again. Hasn’t happened for a while): What do you know of eternity?

DT (I have no idea where this is going, but I decide to play): It is not a concept that means a lot to me. Nothing is eternal.

Dream: That might be true. And yet, what if there were such a thing, or at least something that gets very close?

DT: Then I would probably still endeavour to focus on the here and now, because that’s all I can do.

Dream: Do you never yearn for things beyond your reach?

DT: That’s inconsequential to our conversation.

Dream: Is it, though?

DT (I sense he is trying to corner me somehow, so I decide to redirect while pretending I don’t): Let’s assume for a minute it isn’t then. So what if I did yearn for things beyond my reach?

Dream: I would consider it… (He hesitates, briefly looks down at his hands and then looks at me again) relatable.

DT (I am glad he relates, but I also think I need to redirect even more): Of course you would. Isn’t that what every type of connection is about? Even professional ones?

Dream (I notice he straightens in his chair and lifts his chin. The silence lasts a full nine minutes before I decide to end it).

DT: Can you tell me what else you find relatable?

Dream: No.

DT: Why not?

Dream: Because that is the entire problem. I cannot relate to anyone, and no one can relate to me. However, I envy you… Your fleeting life (The way he says it almost sounds like an insult) and your fragile heart and your ability to love, lose and taste mortality with every passing moment until you take your last breath.

DT (I usually don’t flinch, but I think I might have on this occasion and need a second to gather myself. I am fully aware he is aware that I am slightly rattled because the way he looks at me is both sad but also disturbingly… triumphant, as if he were not so secretly chuffed that he dealt me a blow): And what makes you think you cannot do, or have, any of these things?

Dream: Because Destiny's Book weighs upon me. He is my brother by the way, I am not certain if I told you.

DT: Didn’t you previously tell me you never forget a thing? (Drat! I shouldn’t have said that.)

Dream (I notice he blinks slowly and actually smiles. For the first time today): Touché.

DT (I notice my sense of relief, and I’m not sure I like it): I think I might have asked you something like this before, at least in a roundabout way, but what if you could tear a page from that book? Just like that. Or at least rewrite it?

Dream (I notice he looks out the window again): That has the potential to unravel existence itself (He seems to think. After 8 minutes of silence, he finally looks at me again). Destiny is the oldest, forever chained to his book. Imagine having a sibling who knows every possible outcome, every twist of fate (So we are back to his siblings. Strange change of topic). It is rather infuriating. He once predicted I would spill coffee on a dream record, and I did.

DT (I’m not sure if I am inwardly laughing or crying at this point): So we are back to hot beverages and cup revolutions?

He just stares at me. I notice I involuntarily, or maybe voluntarily, quirk my eyebrow, to which he responds with cocking his head and resting both index fingers on his lips. He is ACTUALLY trying to hide a smile): Well, I am glad you are amused. Should we use that energy to keep on talking about your siblings?

Dream (He sighs and rolls his eyes at me, but he is still half-smiling, so he doesn’t seem to be to opposed): My relationship to each of my siblings is complicated.

DT: And why is that?

Dream: Because each one of us embodies a concept. We are bound by duty but simultaneously divided by it.

DT: Can you elaborate on that?

Dream (I notice a slightly uncomfortable shifting in his seat): Well, there is Desire… Desire is… manipulative. Always scheming, always meddling in my affairs. Our relationship is strained, to say the least. Despair is at least somewhat predictable. And then there's Delirium. She used to be Delight, but… (He suddenly stops himself and shakes his head.). It is unseemly to discuss my siblings, they are none of your concern.

DT: Correct. But you are.

(I notice his eyes turn wet, and he swallows a bit too hard. I catch myself thinking that I feel sorry for him. And I really shouldn’t.) Professionally.

Dream (I notice he stares at my paperweight again): I did not imply otherwise. (He briefly looks at me before turning his attention to the paperweight again.)

There is another brother. He abandoned his function and somewhat chose to… create. Badly. When he used to destroy whole galaxies… (His voice trails off)

DT: I guess he just came to the conclusion he prefers creating nebulae shaped like a middle finger over destroying galaxies? (Why on all fucking earth did I say that?)

Dream (I notice the eye roll): Very mature… (I also notice he loses the battle against trying to suppress a smile again) Yet possibly true.

DT (I am relieved, but I also feel I should apologise)

Dream: No need.

DT (I am confused): No need for what?

Dream: For an apology.

DT (He’s trying to read my mind now, great.)

Dream: I am sorry, I shall abstain.

DT: From what?

Dream: From intruding.

DT: Intruding on what? (I notice I sound a bit prickly.)

Dream (He stares me blank in the face): Your thoughts.

DT (This is fine. Totally fine. He isn’t really reading my thoughts, what are the chances to get it right randomly? Probably fairly high.)

Dream: Even higher if you understand common patterns.

DT (Okay, we’re playing again): And naturally, you do.

Dream: Perhaps.

DT: Then tell me about patterns between you and your siblings.

Dream (He doesn’t get angry or tetchy as expected, and instead just stares at his hands): The patterns are… endlessly complicated. I am not sure you would understand the dynamics of our relationships.

DT: Have you, or your siblings, ever tried to change these dynamics?

Dream (He does look slightly annoyed now): We are… constants! Change is a foreign concept to beings such as us.

DT: Is it truly? You’re changing, aren’t you? You’re even smiling. Here and there. That’s definitely a change.

Dream (I notice a face like thunder): I think not.

DT: Not what I’m seeing.

Dream (He leans forward in his chair): I. Do. Not. Change.

DT: Okay, what about your sister then?

Dream: Which one?

DT: The one who changed? The one you said, “used to be” Delight?

Dream (I notice he opens his mouth briefly to then close it again. He thinks for a hot second): I suppose, within our limited capacity, there have been…efforts to change. But…

DT: So it is possible then?

Dream (I notice the wet-cat-head-shaking): You don’t seem to comprehend that there is no balance in change. Not in any of my siblings. And I wish for balance. For a semblance of… harmony.

DT: Why do you believe there is no harmony in change?

Dream (I notice an exasperated sounding puff of air exiting his nose): I trust our time is up?

DT: No.

Dream: Very well, I shall leave then. (He gets up.)

DT: You’re right, some things truly don’t change.

Dream: I told you so. (He starts to walk out.)

DT: Are you still committed?

Dream (He stops and turns to look at me): Did you not tell me, just a second ago, that some things do not change? And did I not previously encourage you to use ink for however long you deem necessary? I do not have the tendency to go back on my word.

DT: And I don’t have the tendency to assume people aren’t free to change their mind.

Dream (He just stands there and glares at me): You have an obsession with change.

DT: Comes with the territory. Still ink, or would you rather default to pencil?

Dream (I notice the slightly exasperated bridge-of-nose-pinch): Ink. It is marginally more unchangeable…

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#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus rp #the sandman fanfiction #Dream’s therapist #it’s been a while #not gonna lie: with all that’s been going on my drive to write was moving towards 0 #and it was hard to keep it light #and it gets harder the longer I’m writing this #but I wanted to get back on the horse #sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanfic #sandman fanfic #queue

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