#note that she does not use the characters names when she talks about it. she does not remember characters names for anything

[folkdances]

let’s talk about franziska and grief in justice for all.

the narrative that the games, at first glance, appear to be pushing is that franziska is aware edgeworth has not committed suicide. she repeatedly affirms this, most notably in turnabout bigtop, when she tells phoenix that she believes her brother to be alive and hiding somewhere. however, one thing we need to keep in mind is that franziska and edgeworth were not shown to be close in the interim between jfa and the prequel cases in aai — in fact, it would go against both their characters and the writing of their relationship for them to have kept in much contact at all.

franziska is, if anything, rooted in the past. her hair is cut almost boyishly short and choppy. she carries around a whip because she is so used to being spoken over and ignored, having started her career so young. her youth underlies her every professional achievement; and if not her youth, then her lineage. her physical design is meant to reflect the uniform of a jockey, and taking her aristocratic surname into account, it makes sense: horseback riding, obsessive as it is, remains a pastime for the social class she inhabits. it’s only logical that, in the absence of a real connection with her brother, she would base her understanding of his character on the most recent version of him that she knows, being the vain and easily affronted rookie prosecutor wracked between ambition and guilt that she grew up with. she has no way to know how to fill in the gaps between a suicide note and the brother she knew, because to her, there is no gap to fill in; it seems a logical conclusion to her brother's story and life that he would rather run away than face his own failures. it is consistent with the younger version of edgeworth that we see in trials and tribulations. it is difficult to reconcile that individual with someone who might actually take his own life, at least outwardly speaking. franziska has no hands-on knowledge of her brother and his mental state beyond what she might have seen in the press or heard filtered down from her father. it’s only natural that she draws the conclusion that he simply turned tail and ran away in order to preserve his dignity. it is an obvious conclusion to make.

however, this interpretation completely overlooks the fact that franziska is not stupid. she is well aware that her brother had very recently been 'betrayed' by the man to whose standards he strived to rise to almost his entire life and is aware that the driving force behind this desperation to prove himself was his father's murder. manfred von karma was their father; there is a tendency in both the games and their surrounding fanbase to portray the senior von karma as being nothing more than a teacher and mentor, but if we examine the (limited) dialogue the three share in aai, edgeworth and franziska address von karma as one might a particularly volatile and austere parental figure, and he responds in kind. he employs and underlines a pattern of the same types of verbal abuse and neglect present in many fictional case studies of the paternal abuser; to edgeworth, he shows the former and to franziska, often the latter (what comes to mind is a piece of dialogue wherein franziska, aged 13, asks her father if he will attend her courtroom debut, to which he responds, "i'll consider it"). she frequently demonstrates her emotional intelligence, again, particularly as a child, such as a short exchange in which von karma berates edgeworth rather cruelly and is met with silence. rather than let the topic linger, franziska very deliberately changes the subject, asking von karma who he thinks is the culprit behind the current investigation. later, when edgeworth thanks her for it, she acts as if she does not know what he's talking about.

back in the 'present day', her insistence that she defeat phoenix wright in order to avenge her family name is also rendered moot; franziska places a lot of pride in her family name, but her defense of her father is lackluster at best. she, too, is left to grapple with the weight of his legacy and has (seemingly) decided that her father simply does not live up to expectations. he instilled in her such strong convictions regarding the meaning of the law and the von karma family name, and it only makes sense that, once he failed so utterly to exemplify them, she would instead shift her understanding of those convictions onto herself and the only other person she believes she can see those qualities in, being miles edgeworth.

the initial theory, that franziska believes edgeworth to be in hiding, while a version of the truth, would not appear to be the truth to someone who has repeatedly demonstrated the emotional intelligence and understanding of the subject necessary to read between the so-called lines; to me, it is obvious that franziska believed, at least in large part, that edgeworth really had killed himself, and her actions and dialogue in jfa shift subtly into a much more interesting light if one runs with this interpretation. she goes from presenting herself — something i'm going to touch on in a moment — as an almost cartoonishly dense and vain girl into someone desperate to deny the truth staring her right in the face; that she has been virtually abandoned by every figure she loved and trusted in her life, left to uphold a legacy with no room for error, bound to rules so straight-edge and self-imposed that no single person could ever walk only in their light. anyone would resort to staunch denial — and franziska, so attached to her past, does so with aplomb.

finally, i want to point out that it's very easy to take franziska at face value. as unfortunate as it is, she's only present in four games — aai, aai2, jfa, and t&t — and she usually isn't in the majority of cases in those games. there is a stark yet subtle difference in her comportment in the investigations games, though, which can be very clearly explained: in every game she speaks to the player character, and in jfa, the player character is phoenix wright, her self-ascribed enemy. it makes complete sense that she would present herself a certain way, speak in certain manners, and act rash and overconfident in front of him, because she hates him.

all this to say, franziska is a very potent case study of grief and how it can change people, especially when that grief gets caught up in a messy tangle of ambition and a legacy whose stipulations border almost on mania. also, i love her very dearly and thought this would be interesting to talk about. obviously, this is not the entirety of the situation, as i mostly focused on franziska's relationship to edgeworth, but i think this is long enough as is.

[musicalmoritz]

Hey uh ,,, do you have any songs that reminds you of tbhk? Like specific characters or relationships ?? (Also I plan on updating my mitsukou playlist I have for coping reasons so some recommendations on that would be nice) ( little cat ^. . ^ / )

OKAY so a little bit embarrassing but the way I listen to music 99% of the time is by imagining my hyperfixations with whatever I’m listening to so I am the perfect person to ask this question. Fair warning tho my music taste does dabble in basic territory. This is gonna be looooooong so fasten your seatbelts

• Using You by Mars Ago is such an AoiAoi song to me. There’s always one specific ship in a fandom that fits this song perfectly and for TBHK that is 100% AoiAoi

• Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana gives me HakuSumi and Sakuhiko vibes. I lean more towards HakuSumi tho bcuz…well…those of you who know the meaning of this song will get it LOL

• Soooooo many Beetlejuice musical songs remind me of TBHK. I started to make like a whole playlist that told the plot of TBHK through musical theatre songs but I gave up after the Mitsuba arc and it never made it to Spotify. Maybe someday…

• Say My Name from Beetlejuice is obviously very HanaNene coded. And The Whole “Being Dead” Thing is giving Hanako coded. Dead Mom is very Kouded

• I Know It’s Today from the Shrek musical always makes me think of Nene

• Drift Away from Steven Universe…very Yako. Her waiting for Misaki every day before learning he died…oof

• Dear Theodosia from Hamilton Remind’s me of the Minamoto Siblings. With Teru as Burr singing abt Kou and then Kou as Hamilton singing abt Tiara

• Beautiful Boy by John Lennon reminds me of Teru and Kou

• On a similar note, I Wanna Hold Your Hand by The Beatles is soooooooo NeneMei coded. Yes I’m talking abt that scene where Nene asked Mei to hold her hand to trick her in an escape attempt. I think about it often

• Townie by Mitski makes me think of Teru. “I am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be” yeah…

• Ever since I heard HISS by Megan Thee Stallion it has made me think of Teru. I feel like he would be her biggest fan

• Mine by Taylor Swift works so well for any Aoi ship but specifically Aoinene or AoiAoi. “You made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter” I mean c’mon her fears surrounding love all stem from her father abandoning her so yeah

• Okay you specifically asked for Mitsukou so I should probably talk abt them

• To me they are so Lana Del Rey core…Video Games…Ultraviolence…the Diet Mountain Dew demo…Summertime Sadness…Yes I know I’m making her most popular songs, hush

• Line Without A Hook by Ricky Montgomery. It’s extra gut-wrenching when it’s from Mitsuba’s pov imo but it works both ways

• Waving Through A Window from Dear Evan Hansen is so Sousuke core

• All of Taylor Swift’s Red album reminds me of them but specifically All Too Well (both versions), Red, Sad Beautiful Tragic, Stay Stay Stay, Begin Again, Better Man, Come Back…Be Here, The Very First Night, and…yeah basically all of Red (Taylor’s Version)

• Northern Downpour by Panic! At the Disco also makes me think of them, this is embarrassingly my favorite song of all time I can’t lie

• Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo is so Aoinene core, yes I have written a fic abt them with that title (a lot of these come from my fic titles ngl)

• Tainted Love by Soft Cell gives me strong Terukane vibes from Akane’s pov

• I Wanna Dance With Somebody and So Emotional by Whitney Houston both remind me of Aoinene as well, basically all of her album Whitney does ngl

• Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks makes me think of Natsuhiko

• Bernadette by IAMX reminds me of Sakuhiko

• She Liked A Boy by Nxdia is very Aoinene coded

• Stupid With Love from the Mean Girls musical makes me think of MeiAoi, specifically the version with No.4 Mei

• Music of the Night from Phantom of the Opera is canonically Hanako coded like c’mon we have a whole au for this

• In addition, Think Of Mei is very Nene coded, All I Ask Of You is Mitsukouded, Notes is v Terukane coded, and the title song is so HanaNene

• Valley Of The Dolls by Marina is lowkey Aoi core with the whole “pick a personality” line and the concept of losing your identity as a woman due to the boxes society puts us in

• Gemini Moon by Reneé Rapp reminds me of Kou or Akane (mainly bcuz of the “I could never pick a side” line…bi kings)

• Fly Me To The Moon by Frank Sinatra makes me think of HanaNene (any old music does tbh, I have a whole playlist for it)

• Me and My Husband by Mitski is, like, THE Hakusumi song

• There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out by The Smiths is so Mitsukou like “to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die” ?? C’mon

• Violently shaking trying not to name every Fall Out Boy song in existence

• The Pros and Cons of Breathing is SO Aoinene guys (“wish that I was as invisible as you make me feel”)

• Hum Hallelujah could theoretically be Kou

• HOT TO GO! by Chappell Roan is the vibe I have assigned to Minami and Himari

• Stacy’s Mom for Mitsuba’s mother. No elaboration needed.

• You’re On Your Own, Kid by Taylor Swift makes me think of Teru :(

• Lithium by Nirvana reminds me of Akane but also every Nirvana song ever reminds me of Akane, I have assigned Akane to Nirvana

• Whitney Houston’s iconic cover of I Will Always Love You for HanaNene…yes indeed

• Taste by Sabrina Carpenter with Terukaneaoi (Teru sings it to Akane so instead it’s “you’ll just have to taste me while SHE’S kissing you”)

• I have assigned Olivia Rodrigo’s Guts album to HanaNene and Sour to Mitsukou

• Bcuz c’mon, Deja Vu is such a Mitsukou/Soukou song

• Maneater by Daryl Hall & John Oates is Ghost Hotel au Kou and then Maneater by Nelly Furtado is main universe Mitsuba (get it? bcuz cannibalism but also they’re gay-)

• I like the concept of a “maneater” being a gay man and a “womanizer” being a lesbian. Therefore Womanizer by Britney Spears is Mei’s song

• Oops! I Did It Again by Britney Spears is Aoi with AoiAoi

• Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter is Aoimei with OG Mei, Bad Chem is HakuSumi, and Please Please Please is Sakuhiko

• Holding Out For A Hero by Bonnie Tyler is a Natsuteru song I have dubbed it that way

• Landslide by Stevie Nicks is so Aoinene it hurts… “well I’ve been afraid of changing ‘cuz I built my life around you”

• Every Breath You Take by The Police reminds me of Mitsukou from Kou’s pov…my boy can get a little obsessive

• Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo is THE Sakunene song, especially since Nene thought Sakura was Hanako’s girlfriend when they first met

• Honorable Mention by Fall Out Boy is lowkey Mitsuba like hear me out…or maybe more-so Sousuke

• Their song Pretty In Punk reminds me of both Mitsukou and Hanamitsu

• Two Player Game from Be More Chill is HanaKou and then A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into is Mitsukou

• Part Of Your World from The Little Mermaid makes me think of Nene and then Poor Unfortunate Souls is Sakura (or Tsukasa). Kiss The Girl is HanaNene or Aoinene

• Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer is Terunene, I’m sorry Ik a lot of ppl hate it but I adore them

• On that note of overhated ships I love, Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield reminds me of TeruAoi

• Ooooh and Uptown Girl by Billy Joel is a MeiAoi song

• My Girlfriend Is A Witch by October Country is so Aoimei and Sakuhiko core

• I Fall In Love Too Easily by Chet Baker makes me think of Nene

• I could make a whole separate post abt TBHK and Taylor Swift songs so I’m trying not to yap abt her too much but When Emma Falls In Love also reminds me of Nene. And The Archer is Hanako. And Mirrorball is Akane. And The Lucky One is Aoi. And-

• The Masochism Tango by Tom Lehrer is so Mitsukou but specifically the way I write them, you guys have to see the vision (Natsuteru as well)

• Miss You Much by Janet Jackson is lowkey AoiAoi core, ngl I just wanted an excuse to bring up Janet Jackson

• And Escapade by Janet Jackson is Aoinene so real so true

• I have seen ppl attribute Picture You by Chappell Roan to Meinene and I agree. I will add that Casual is Sakuhiko core from Natsuhiko’s pov

• Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide by David Bowie reminds me of Terukane, both as individual characters and as a ship

• I Know You by Faye Webster is like THE AoiAoi/Terukaneaoi song to me

• Paper Bag by Fiona Apple is Mitsuba to me, trust I will be writing a fic that uses a line from this song as the title (unless it’s already been done before…it’s a very popular song so like that’s possible…)

• Lonely Hearts Club by Marina makes me think of TeruAoi

• Animal Cannibal from Possibly in Michigan fits both Sumire and Mitsuba imo

• No Surprises by Radiohead makes me think of both Teru and Kou

• Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths also makes me think of Kou

• Our Last Summer by ABBA reminds me of the Severance arc in a very bittersweet way, specifically the ending

• Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac fits like so many ships. Hakusumi, Mitsukou, HanaNene…

• Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees and Ms. Lauryn Hill makes me think of Sumire/Hakusumi

• I Put A Spell On You by Nina Simone is very Sakura core to me

• Heart Of Glass by Blondie with Mitsuba hear me out hear me out

• Smooth Criminal by Micheal Jackson with Aoi and the amount of times she’s almost died lol

• The Boys Of Summer by Don Henley with Hanako and Kou, or Kou/Yokoo/Satou

• Moon River with HanaNene. Now cry.

• Romeo And Juliet by the Indigo Girls with Aoimei

• Psycho Killer by the Talking Heads with Tsukasa

• And circling back to the musical songs. A Lovely Night from La La Land with MeiAoi

• Fight For Me from Heathers with Mitsukou. Candy Store with Terukaneaoi. Seventeen with HanaNene. Meant To Be Yours with any ship tbh these guys are all insane. Lifeboat with Aoi. Much to think about

• Stars from Les Misérables with Teru. Let me repeat. STARS FROM LES MISÉRABLES WITH TERU. He is so Javert coded Javert my babygirl from my favorite piece of media of all time that literally shaped who I am as a person

• Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift with Sumire

• Also all of the Sweeney Todd musical gives me TBHK vibes with all the cannibalism, I could make a whole au

• Camisado by Panic! At the Disco with Teru

• No Good Deed from Wicked with Hakubo snapping after Sumire’s death…Hakubo my beloved

• Popular from Wicked with Aoinene, What Is This Feeling? with Terukane

• The Confrontation from Jekyll & Hyde with the Yugi twins

• Don’t Rain On My Parade from Funny Girl with Nene

• Suddenly Seymour from Little Shop Of Horrors with Aoinene, AoiAoi, Mitsukou, or HanaNene

• I like to imagine Unlikely Lovers from Falsettos with Aoinene and Terukane

• Two Wuv by Tally Hall with Teruaoinene

• American Beauty/American Psycho by Fall Out Boy with AoiAoi

Okay I’m cutting myself off because the music + hyperfixation brainrot will never end. I hope this was somewhat enjoyable to ya’ll lol ty for giving me the chance to yap abt this

[pcktknife]

mothers commentary for the new ep.

(kabru talking about the touden party) "sounds like he's just a hater"

(kabru mentions falin to shiro) "so he hates the toudens?" (me vaguely shaking my head) "he loves falin?..and falin- no marcille is in love her" (i ask her abt that observation) "well I could tell marcille's in love with her, she's kinda weird"

[lokissweater]

you noticed me ⚾︎

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: megumi fushiguro is one of the best players on the major league baseball team, and when you finally spot him on the big screen after practically dozing off at every game you went to with your girl friend? you were absolutely IN LOVE, but IN DENIAL that he could ever like you back… but he does, and bad.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, NASTY NASTY MEGUMI, oral sex, SMUT, pussy eating in locker rooms HEH, mentions of drinking but like tiny just once, reader is oblivious to the way megumi wants her, DOMINANT AF MEGUMI PHEWW, cursing, flufffff!!, barely any angst, DIRTY TALK, pet names, aged up characters.

word count: 12.1k (IK IM SORRY ITS A CUTE ONE THO)

authors note: you GUYSSSS i love megumi fushiguro i want him so bad and i LOOVEEE this fic!! i worked like a little worker bee for days and i really hope it makes you guys happy :] MWAH!!

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

megumi fushiguro was the hottest baseball player you had ever seen in your life.

and you didn’t even like baseball to begin with, dozing off at every game your girl friend dragged you to because her boyfriend was on the major league team— but the one time you decided to open your eyes and pay attention to the big giant screen in front of you?

there he was in all of his emo glory.

number eighteen.

focused, half lidded eyes resembling borderline boredom as he waited for the pitcher to throw, his forehead glistening with sweat, flushed red cheeks, and his jet black hair slightly peeking over his forehead from underneath his baseball cap.

“my god—” your hand flew and you gripped your girl friends arm tightly, your jaw to the fucking floor as your eyes were gorilla glued to the screen, her quirking a curious eyebrow at you as she matched your frantic nature.

“what? what is it? who did you see? whats happ—”

you pointed your finger up at the screen, him swinging and hitting a fucking grand slam as he proceeded to get four runs with one hit, the one thing you knew about baseball besides a home run.

“that’s a— that’s a grand slam!” you pointed frantically, probably looking absolutely insane as you stood and screamed your fucking head off.

your girl friend laughed loudly, “you like fushiguro? megumi fushiguro?”

you jumped up and down, your girlfriend astonished and laughing as this was the first time she’d ever seen you energetic at a baseball game.

“he’s friends with yuji!” she yelled over the hollering of the crowd. “we can go to their locker room after and you can say hi! i heard he’s kind of mean though—”

“no!” you spun around, eyes wide and terrified. “i already know he’ll eat me alive then! i’m a loser, i can’t talk to him i don’t have game i—”

she rolled her eyes. “you’ll be fine—”

“no i can’t!” you shook your head frantically. “please he looks like the type to love bomb me and then leave me i don’t think i can handle that—”

she snorted. “are you sure?!”

you hesitated for a moment, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed back over to the screen, seeing megumi breathing a little heavy from running the field, his hands on his hips as he scanned the arena.

you sighed through your nose. “yeah i’m sure!”

“suit yourself!”

a year. a year you spent continuing to tag along with your girl friend to their games, staring lovesick and sad at the big screen over megumi, and standing outside far far away from the locker room once they scored another big win and not going in like you used to, waiting for your girl friend to finish up speaking to her boyfriend as you tried your best to avoid the chance of running into megumi.

she finally emerged from the locker rooms one day, a knowing smirk on her face.

“i told yuji.”

you blinked. “told him what?”

“that you like fushiguro.”

“no!” you gasped, a hand flying and smacking over your mouth. “please no im about to experience the biggest heartbreak of my life—”

“oh relax!” she grabbed your arm and practically dragged you towards the locker room doors. “he’s not even here megumi already left, but yuji wants to talk to you.”

“why?!” you exclaimed. “to let me down easy? to tell me he’s sorry on his behalf—”

your girl friend just about threw you in and went in after you as you stumbled, eyes blown wide as the air became humid and heavy, several of the players lounging about and refreshing themselves as the sound of lockers slamming shut echoed through the space— deep, broad voices laughing filling the room as yuji spotted you, his eyes friendly and polite. “y/n!”

you relaxed and smiled, “hi! you guys played really well today!”

“megumi also played really well today.”

“oh my god—” you groaned, throwing your head back as you spun around, heading straight for the exit.

“wait wait!” he laughed loudly, jogging up to you. “sorry sorry.”

“what do you want with me..” you mumbled.

he gave you a half smile. “i wanted to tell you that megumi’s weird.”

you snorted, “elaborate please.”

yuji threw an arm around your girl friend before continuing.

“you know we support your feelings and what you want…” he began.

your eyes narrowed. “why are you guys talking to me like you’re my parents—”

“but—” yuji cut you off. “i’m just gonna be straight with you. i’ve never ever seen megumi interact with anyone, let alone another woman, besides the team.”

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen him have a proper conversation with anyone on the team besides you actually…” your girl friend muttered to yuji.

yuji winced. “yeah…” he turned back to you. “back when megumi and i first got signed, he was really popular and a lot of girls would come up to him after games for his number or just to talk to him.”

“well obviously he’s a greek god,” you grumbled. “this is hurting me man get to the point.”

he sighed. “he basically scared all of them off. didn’t give a single one a chance and was kinda mean... he would either ignore them or straight up just tell them he wasn’t interested without them even being able to get a word in.”

you stared blankly.

“i tried to tell him that he needs to be nicer but he’s just not interested.”

you kept staring.

“that’s why i’m telling you this because we don’t want you to get hurt and i feel like if you try and talk to him he’s gonna be a dick and it might…” yuji looked at you sadly. “it might be a lost cause.”

you blinked.

“y/n?”

“that’s fine!” you squeaked, hands tight at your sides. “a part of me already knew. i read about it in an article, and i’ve seen his interviews.”

your girl friend looked at you with concern filled eyes. “are you okay?”

“yeah!” you waved them off. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“because your eyes are red.”

“ppffttt!” you blew out. “i’m fine! seriously. i never intended to talk to him anyways, i’m too much of a scaredy cat.”

you extended your arms out and engulfed the both of them, squeezing tight. “thank you guys for telling me though, i appreciate it.”

“y/n…” yuji trailed off.

“i’m gonna take off though, i’ll see you guys later, okay?” you waved and opened the door. “love you!”

and you scrammed, your heart in a million pieces.

it’s not like you didn’t already know. you knew, so why were you sad? why did you feel like you just got ran over by a double decker bus? why did you pathetically feel so sad?

this was the reality. you never stood a chance.

so why were you crying?

you continued walking down the hall and towards the main exit, utterly embarrassed at your sobbing and trying your best to hide it as you navigated through several groups of people, your vision entirely blurry as you were basically drowning in your tears.

you had barely escaped the crowd when you spotted a little secluded area in the lobby, trudging over pathetically and plopping down on the coushy seat as you wiped your cheeks, staring at the wall in front of you— a huge glass casing proudly decorated with the teams trophies and awards, gigantic portraits of the players on the team adorning the walls with megumi’s serious beautiful framed face right in front of you just making you feel worse.

you already knew, but regardless of megumi’s stand off ish personality, you liked it. you had curiously browsed his interviews and quotes in articles, and you always laughed at his responses, him almost every time offending the staff without even trying or knowing, and you found it so so funny, it only making you admire him and want to get to know him even more, even if it was just a friendship.

megumi fushiguro was one of the best players on the team in history, and as you closed your eyes, silent pathetic tears still slipping down your cheeks?

he never felt so out of reach.

“here.”

your eyes opened, but you literally could not see jack shit as your tears were still blurring your line of sight, you completely and utterly mortified that a stranger caught you sobbing as you wiped your face quickly in response.

“put on my sunglasses if you don’t want people to see you crying.”

the voice was gruff and lazy, but you could not care less as you took the sunglasses and settled them over your eyes, the lenses so freaking dark that you couldn’t see a single thing— your sight worse than before.

but it relieved you, as you figured no one could see your bloodshot eyes and therefore thankfully not notice you losing your mind over something so stupid.

“thank you,” you mumbled. “sorry.”

“for what.”

you felt the plush of the bench shift next to you, figuring that the stranger man sat beside you as you refused to look in their direction out of embarrassment.

not that you could even see in the first place.

“for looking like a loser.”

the stranger man snorted. “s’fine.”

you wiped your nose with your sleeve, sniffling.

“how do you see in these?” you muttered softly. “they’re making me claustrophobic i can’t see a thing.”

“that’s the point,” he hums.

“how come?”

“i get migraines everyday. they help.”

“oh i see.” you responded softly. “have you ever run into a wall because of them?”

you hear him huff out through his nose. “i did once, when i first got them.”

you giggled gently. “did you bleed?”

“no,” he spoke calmly. “i got a bump on my forehead.”

you snickered, “what? loserrr.”

you stood up and carefully tried to walk around a little, testing out how to guide yourself through the dark lenses and trying to be careful and not bump into a wall (which was literally impossible), your hands out, feeling around.

“jesus christ i’m just kidding now i feel bad. i think im gonna bump myself into a wall too so we can call it even.”

you couldn’t see, but the stranger man’s lips twitched at your comment.

“don’t do that.” he murmured. “sit back down.”

you listened and started making your way over, feeling him reach out and wrap his fingers around your wrist carefully and guide you to the bench, you plopping down on it once you felt it.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly. “…i’m actually glad i can’t see a thing right now.” you perked up, pushing the sunglasses back up over the bridge of your nose.

“why is that.”

“so i don’t have to look at megumi fushiguro’s big portrait in front of my face.”

the stranger man stopped.

“…why?”

“because he indirectly broke my heart.”

you heard a little audible laugh, and you smiled to yourself.

at least someone is having fun right now.

“how did he indirectly break your heart?”

“my girl friend’s boyfriend is yuji itadori. she spilled the beans against my will about how i have a crush on him, and yuji told me that he’s mean and he’ll basically bite my head off and tell me to scram.”

“did he?”

“uh huh,” you nodded. “they were trying to let me down easy, but it’s not like i was gonna try and talk to him anyways. i’ve gone a year without saying anything i can go on and on and on.”

the stranger man hummed.

“he’s so cool though…” you murmured, dazed. “he’s gonna be a hard one to forget about.”

“why do you like him?”

“i feel like im being interrogated,” you giggled.

you felt the stranger man lean back against the wall. “sorry, just curious.”

you copied him and crossed your arms, “mmm… because he’s really good at what he does. i admire that most of all.”

you tilted your head. “everyone berates him for being mean but i like that he’s supposedly mean for some reason…. he’s just serious about his profession and he doesn’t want to waste time. he’s also the hottest man i’ve ever seen so that definitely helps.”

the stranger man laughed a little.

“i don’t know,” you sighed sadly. “maybe i’m just demented. i am demented.”

“if yuji itadori told you the exact opposite about him, would that have encouraged you to go up to him?”

you sat in thought for a moment, but ultimately shook your head. “no. it’s too embarrassing for me and i’m also a big fat wuss so…”

you slid your fingers underneath the lenses and rubbed your stinging sore eyes. “maybe in the next life if i’m lucky, ill be reincarnated as a cool baseball man too and i won’t have to deal with this shit.”

“cool baseball man.” he repeated, tone seemingly amused.

“yup.”

the stranger man sighed. “is this why i found you crying?”

“maayybeee?” you dragged out shyly, your cheeks flushing.

it was silent for a moment, your vision completely black but his on your rosy cheeks, oddly staring that if you could see right now, you’d probably call him a creep.

“i’m sorry i made you cry.”

you jumped back.

“no not you!” you huffed. “have you not been paying attention? catch up man—”

you felt a shadow reach up and tug the sunglasses slightly away from your face, your eyes constricting against the bright lights of the hall as they tried to adjust.

and when they did?

megumi fushiguro was sitting right next to you, a tiny smile on his face dressed in all black with his teams baseball cap on.

your eyes widened dramatically and you slapped both hands over your mouth, beyond horrified as everything you had thought you were telling a stranger about him, you were telling him directly, your brain short circuiting and your body heating up like a fucking hot flash.

“oh my god i’m so sorry!” your voice was muffled, you shaking your head in absolute denial.

you immediately sprung up and grabbed your purse, slowly backing up further and further away from him.

his smile widened.

oh my god.

megumi fushiguro was smiling, a sight you’ve never ever seen during his games, practices, interviews, articles, or magazines as your cheeks increased in shade— wanting to mentally take a picture and remember forever as you knew you’d probably never see him smile like that again.

but he was smiling.

“pretend i don’t exist!” you stammered, “pretend this never happened i’m sorry this is so embarrassing keep winning your games okay and i’ll keep being an idiot far far away from you—”

“where are you going?” he chuckled lowly.

“—you’ll never see me again i’m going home and i’m going on lockdown—”

he laughed through his nose, his lips in an amused smile.

“you don’t have to do that.”

“yes i do—”

“you don’t have to forget me either.”

“that i definitely do—”

you were halfway out of the main entrance doors.

“hold on y/n—”

megumi stood, his long legs walking over to you and you froze.

y/n?

you slowly turned around, your face pale and afraid.

“how do you know my name?” you asked softly.

“your best friend is dating yuji, is she not.”

you nodded, eyes blank.

“i’ve been seeing you inside the locker room after our games for like… two years.” megumi mumbled.

oh.

oh that’s right.

you didn’t actually notice megumi until last year, when you decided to finally open your eyes for once during a game and that’s how you spotted him for the first time on the big screen in front of you, in all of his gorgeous handsome entity.

“oh.”

he raised a hand and pressed his index finger to your forehead, nudging you softly.

“dummy.”

“s-sorry..” you gave him a wobbly bashful smile, your cheeks pinky as you rubbed your red eyes.

his eyes slightly softened and he shook his head. “s’fine.”

megumi continued to stare at you, a stone cold face that always seemed to scare off the teams entire fan base, but only made you feel numb and giddy all over every single time.

you smiled wider then, and megumi’s lips twitched.

cute.

“i’m— i’m gonna go now.”

“do you have a ride home?”

you stopped. “no i was just gonna call an uber—”

he shook his head and walked past you, his shoulder brushing gently with yours with his hands stuffed in his pockets as you turned and stared at him.

he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“you coming?”

your eyes widened. “coming? w—where?”

he rolled his eyes. “i’m taking you home.”

“no!” you shot your hands out. “it’s okay! really! thank you thank you i appreciate it but—”

he stared lazily.

“come.”

you pressed your lips into a thin line and tipped your head down, taking tiny painful steps as you followed after him to the parking lot.

megumi led you from the public parking area to a secluded section around the back of the arena, one you assumed was for players and crew members only as you nervously gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling absolutely sick.

you both continued to walk down until you arrived to a private parking garage, megumi slipping out his keys from the pocket of his hoodie as you approached a shiny black luxurious car sitting neatly in a spot.

his car was really fucking nice, and you figured so being as he was one of the most popular players and probably had more than enough money in the bank— your fingers trembling as you gripped the passenger side door, settling yourself inside his plush cool leather seats and all black interior.

megumi pressed the ‘start’ button and his engine roared to life, the motor echoing through the structure as you clumsily tried to put on your seatbelt, your cheeks growing pinker with each passing second that you just couldn’t get the stupid damn thing to— click—

he reached over across the console and took the seatbelt from you, pulling it over your body and clicking it secure without a word.

“thank you.” you said softly, eyes trained to your lap.

megumi gave you a small nod and backed out of his parking space, driving around a couple of rows before making his way out with the night air softly breezing through your hair as he drove, his dash illuminated with blue lines that ran smoothly across.

“can you put your address in—”

“oh yeah!” you jumped. “sorry—”

you reached over and tapped in your address on his big touch screen, watching the way the gps registered the location and gave him the estimated time of arrival.

forty fucking minutes.

“megumi..”

his eyes looked over at you for a second before turning back to the road.

“hm?”

“i live kinda far from here and i don’t want you to drive the opposite way from where you live.”

you leaned a little, eyebrows pinched. “i can take an uber seriously, this is too much trouble i—”

“you’re already in my car.” he deadpanned.

“i’ll jump out.”

he pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile.

“i have child lock on.”

“child lock?!” you gawked. “is this what you think of me?”

“you’re a little helpless… and you’re a crybaby.” he mumbled. “child lock stays on.”

you giggled after, your eyes shining and filled with mushy feelings for him as you nodded. “you’re probably right.”

he looked over at you then, and he smiled, softly.

“what do you do?”

you fidgeted. “h—huh?”

“do you um…” he ran his thumb over the top of his gear shift. “do you work? do you go to school?”

he’s asking you?

“i go to school!” you responded shyly but kind. “i go to a college that’s about fifteen minutes from your stadium. i usually go and meet up with my best friend after class if there’s a game.”

he hummed. “are you a big baseball person?”

you grimaced.

do you lie? do you tell the truth? do you roll down his window and attempt to jump out of the car that way?

you played with a strand of your hair. “i— i um—”

he raised an eyebrow.

“i— don’t?”

he cocked his head. “you don’t?”

you shook your head no, completely ashamed of who you are as a person as you covered your eyes.

“i knoww i suuucckkk,” you whined. “the only things i know about baseball are home runs and grand slams— which you did!”

you pointed at him excitedly. “last year! i remember you hit a grand slam! i got so excited that for once i knew what the fuck was going on and why everyone was going crazy…”

you fiddled with your fingers nervously, your eyes trained to the road. “i felt so included.”

he chuckled, and unexpectedly, reached over and gently ruffled your hair.

you then stared at him as he did so, doe eyes wide and cheeks pink.

megumi was truly just beautiful— his smooth face that didn’t have a single blemish on his skin shining under the moonlight, his black spiky hair peeking from under his cap that you had no doubt in your mind was soft and velvety.

you hated that you’d probably do anything for that man.

“i’m sorry i made you cry,” he repeated, you recognizing his words from before.

your eyebrows furrowed.

he was still thinking about that?

you shook your head furiously, “you didn’t! i swear it’s okay. i’m just crazy.”

he huffed out a laugh.

megumi thought you were odd, but in a good way. he thought everything you did was a little funny, as you were jumpy and clumsy and a crybaby and helpless, but he also took note of how polite you were. he noticed how considerate you were of him even though you were really upset, and you were kind of sweet… really sweet actually, your personality something that was totally different from the usual girls that came up to him.

well, the usual girls that used to come up to him back when he first started.

megumi pulled into your driveway and shifted the gear into park, the doors automatically unlocking.

you opened the door and stepped out before leaning down and peeking your head in.

“thank you for the ride!” you said sweetly, a cute smile on your face. “i’m sorry you had to listen to my confession against your will.”

he shook his head. “it’s alright.”

you went in to close the door.

“y/n.”

you leaned back down, “yeah?”

“are you gonna stop coming to our games?”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, your eyes darting around the interior of his car nervously.

“i— i don’t think so.”

“good.”

megumi watched you close his door and walk back a bit, him shifting his gear into reverse as the corners of his lips turned a tiny bit upwards.

“i’ll see you then.”

as you watched him pull out and drive away, his engine roaring down the street, you could not stop or simmer down the way your heart raced against your chest, so much so that you were afraid it was going to burst through your chest and literally kill you.

the next time you went to a game, you hadn’t told your close girl friend yet as she led you through the crowd and down to the v.i.p. lower level seats like always, a kind courtesy of yuji’s that he did whenever he could.

as you watched, you embarrassingly spotted megumi almost the minute you arrived, stars and hearts in your eyes as you watched him do his thing and work magic through the field with his absolutely insane batting, strong and purposeful as he barked orders or observed the opposing team for leads.

once his and the opposing team switched sides, megumi looked up as he jogged, his eyes seemingly scanning the v.i.p. front sections until he spotted you.

he raised a hand and gave you a little wave, and your eyes widened as you timidly, hesitantly, gave him one in return— your cheeks turning pink.

“who are you waving at?”

your girl friend pressed a cheek against yours and looked.

“who is- fushiguro?!”

you looked at her sheepishly.

as you recounted the story to her, her eyes bulging out of her sockets and screaming her head off every two seconds, her head snapped to the field.

“i have to tell yuji—”

“no!” you gripped her shoulders. “it’s literally nothing! he drove me home and he probably just feels bad for me.”

“megumi isn’t the type to make a crying girl feel better or drive her home.”

“it’s because he knows that we know yuji.”

“mm i don’t think so..” she scowled, crossing her arms in eventual defeat as she stared straight ahead.

that’s how it went for about a month.

you would come to their games, megumi would wave at you from the field or you would catch his attention and wave at him, and you would briefly speak to him casually just after his games, your conversations with him usually lasting no more than three minutes as he was often pulled by his coach or a crew member.

but even though the conversations were short, they were really nice, and the both of you never seemed to notice the people around you wanting his attention until he physically had to get pulled away.

but you still refused to go inside the locker room, knowing that was surely the place where you had to talk to him for longer than three minutes. you were too scared, embarrassingly so as you bid your girl friend and yuji goodbye from just outside the door before leaving every time, completely unaware of the way megumi would stare expressionless at you from inside.

when your girl friend invited you to the team’s yearly banquet, you flat out said no, decision firm and unmoving as she begged you over and over and over again.

“please please you have to go! you can’t avoid megumi forever!”

“what is the purpose of me going though?” you sighed, shaking your head with a smile at the sight of her dramatically on her knees over you. “for you it makes sense because you’re with yuji but what’s the excuse for me? i’m not anybody’s plus one.”

“yes you are,” she got back up on her feet and wiggled her eyebrows, “you’re megumi’s plus one.”

“bye i wish,” you mumbled, plopping down on your bed.

“okay you’re my plus one, or yuji’s! so he has two plus ones!”

she walked over and sat down next to you, resting her head against your shoulder as she sighed. “please come. you don’t have to talk to megumi okay? fine. but just come with me, i’ll have a better time if you do.”

you gave her a silly smile and thought for a moment, her sad tone swaying you as you finally gave in.

“only if you swear you won’t force me to talk to him.”

she nodded eagerly.

“i swear!”

so you stood there, nervous and biting your thumb as you frantically looked around, dressed in a pretty black off the shoulder mermaid style gown with a high slit exposing your leg— fiddling with your styled hair as you waited and waited and waited for your girl friend to come back from the dessert table with yuji.

you hadn’t seen megumi yet as you were trying to keep on a look out, because the moment you did see him all dressed up? you were sure you were going to start pathetically bowing for him on your knees in front of all these people and end your social life forever.

finally, she came back and handed you a little pastry, you thanking her kindly and taking a small bite.

“wait no!” she gasped, turning her pastry around. “fuck, i got the wrong one. i meant to get the vanilla one this is coconut.”

“i can get it for you this time.” you smiled kindly, her looking at you gratefully as you patted her shoulder, making your way over to the dessert table.

your eyes lit up like stars at the sight of it, grand and luxurious as any kind of pastry you could ever possibly think of was present— neat and gourmet-like, each adorned with elegant toppings as multiple huge chocolate fountain stations ran from the sides.

“hi.”

you jumped and looked to your right, megumi standing there beside you with a bored expression, clad in a polished black button up and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

you gulped.

“h—hi.”

“i didn’t think you’d come.”

he lazily picked up a tiny slice of chocolate mousse cake and looked at it.

“i was dragged by my best friend,” you puffed out a laugh. “she said i was her and yuji’s plus one or something like that.”

he nodded, biting his cake slice and swallowing.

“you stopped coming inside the locker rooms.”

you faltered.

he noticed that?

“oh yeah! i just—” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “i’ve been really busy with school so i study right after…”

for some reason megumi eyed you carefully, and your cheeks grew pinker the more he blatantly stared at you as you fidgeted.

“are you—”

“fushiguro!”

you both turned your heads to the source, and you spotted an unfamiliar guy, one who you assumed was on the team with them, smiling enthusiastically and throwing a heavy arm around megumi’s shoulder.

“who’s this? i’ve never seen you talk to anyone besides us!”

megumi only spared him a nonchalant glance before he looked back over at the dessert table.

the unknown man extended a hand out to you, and megumi’s eyes snapped to it.

“hi! i’m takuma!”

you cheerfully took his hand. “y/n!”

“are you megumi’s girlfriend?”

you gawked, guilt and embarrassment already filling your body at the thought of megumi finding that comment uncomfortable and being uncomfortable because of you.

at his own banquet.

“n—no!” you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “i came with my best friend and yuji.”

takuma unhooked his arm and let it rest beside him. “oh nice! you know yuji as well?”

you nodded, “mhm!”

the rest of the crowd began to take their seats for the awards ceremony segment, and the three of you walked over to your designated table by yuji and your best friend, who’s eyes widened at the sight of you next to megumi.

you all sat, and takuma pointed to the empty seat next to you.

“is anyone sitting here?”

“oh no!” you smiled politely. “it’s empty you can—”

“take mine ino.”

megumi pulled out the chair next to you and plopped down on it, scooting up. “it’s closer to the front.”

huh?

“o—oh!” takuma scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “okay! thanks fushiguro.”

he only nodded in response and stuck his face in his champagne glass, sipping.

and he was right. you watched as takuma navigated through the circular tables before sitting in a seat that was right smack dab in the front.

“that’s really nice of you megumi!” you chirped. “he has such a good view now!”

“mhm.”

your best friend smacked a hand to her forehead with a shake of her head, and you looked at her quizzically.

the awards ceremony was the most fun you’ve ever had, as you were over the moon for all of the players that were awarded prestigious titles and recognitions, and even more excited for yuji and megumi, the both of them combined taking award after award that by the time the event was done, your table was filled to the brim with frames, medals, and trophies.

your doe eyes glowed over megumi’s earnings, pride and admiration bubbling in your chest as you took in the result of his hard work, feeling like he was the most talented person you ever had the privilege of knowing.

he stared at your enamored look.

“you’re so cool, gumi..” you gushed, not even noticing the little nickname you gave him.

but he did.

“cool baseball man?” he responded softly, referencing your words from when you first met.

your eyes snapped to his and you gave him the shiniest smile, nodding quickly. “yeah! cool baseball man.”

megumi looked down at his awards, and after a couple of seconds, picked up a shiny gold medal hung on a baby blue striped lanyard, holding it out for you.

“here.”

your eyes traveled down.

“what?”

“for you.” he pushed the medal forward.

shock crossed your face, and you frantically shook your head, pushing the medal back to him. “no! no megumi that’s yours you earned it—”

megumi rolled his eyes and held on to the edges of the lanyard, effortlessly setting it over your head and around your neck, the medal clinking and twinkling against your chest.

“i have four others. it’s fine.”

“no but—”

he carded his thumbs underneath your hair and gently slid your hair out from beneath the lanyard, setting it delicately over your bare shoulders.

yuji and your best friends jaws were on the floor, but you didn’t notice, too busy ogling over the fact that megumi fushiguro was the kindest person you had ever met, utterly amazed that he selflessly gave you something so precious. you.

your gaze trailed down to the medal, and you softly touched it with the pads of your fingers.

“t—thank you gumi…”

his lips twitched.

you realized then that the music had started and the crowd had already dispersed to celebrate, some dancing in the center while others mingled on the sidelines or hogged the dessert table.

and you spotted your best friend with yuji, the both of them smiling adoringly at each other, laughing and dancing— something bashfully wished for yourself as you grinned softly at them.

megumi followed your gaze, and he huffed an amused small laugh through his nose.

“they met at a party didn’t they?”

you looked to him and nodded, “uh huh! i was with her. she was so scared to talk to him and i literally had to throw her in.”

he scratched his cheek. “i remember. i was there.”

your jaw dropped. “you were?!”

he nodded. “and i remember you too.”

you sat there in silence.

how long had megumi been around in your life without you knowing? how didn’t you ever freaking notice?

before you could press any further, megumi squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his forehead in pain, groaning softly.

you jumped, “are you okay? what’s wrong?”

he shook his head. “migraine. the lights are fucking with me a little.”

“oh!” you frantically looked around the table and around him. “where are your sunglasses? the dark ones the ones you ran into a wall with!”

megumi snorted and shook his head again, eyes peeking at you a bit. “it’s fine. i left them at home.”

your eyebrows rose, “you left them?”

he nodded and dropped his hand, sitting up straight and trying to open his eyes fully to seem normal, but his lids only dropped again and his forehead fell to rest against the table.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled. “just give me a minute.”

“don’t be sorry gumi…”

you figured the rest of the night was going to be like this, and if megumi stayed, he was going to end up dealing with the dull ache in his head for hours on end and not enjoy his banquet.

but you wanted him to enjoy it. this was his night, and you didn’t want him to spend it pissed off and writhing in pain.

“do you want to leave?”

he turned his head to the side and looked at you.

“we can um—” you fiddled with the medal around your neck. “we can go outside? or we can go for ice cream…”

you tilted your head to the side cutely, and you were oblivious to the way megumi’s cheeks went a little pink at the sight.

“ill pay though!” you smiled sweetly. “it’s the least i can do for the medal you gave me.”

he gave you an endearing half smile and nodded.

your eyes lit up. “really?! okay!— wait let me just say bye to my best friend and let her know—”

you quickly stood and walked over to the dance floor, megumi watching after you before picking up his black blazer and holding it underneath an arm, wondering how the fuck he was gonna pick up all of his awards himself.

“y/n!” your best friend gushed. “you’ve been talking to megumi for hours what the fuck is going on—”

you laughed. “nothing! it was nothing but i’m gonna go get ice cream with him!”

“what?!” her and yuji said in unison.

“did he ask you?” yuji pushed.

“no!” your eyes narrowed. “of course not i’m a big fat loser why would he? i invited him because he has a migraine so—”

your best friend hummed, a smirk on her face. “oh i see... use protection.”

“huh?!” your jaw dropped. “no! that’s not—”

“y/n!”

you turned and saw takuma walk over to you, a big smile on his face. “you enjoying the banquet?”

“oh yes! it’s really great!” you smiled kindly. “the dessert table is absolutely insane.”

“right?!” takuma stepped closer to you. “they go all out every year, it’s what everyone looks forward to.”

“i can definitely see why!”

he chuckled and nodded but then turned to you, speaking quieter. “listen um… i was wondering if you were uh— well if you wanted to dance? with me? y’know… maybe get to know each other better and then—”

yuji shoved his lips to your best friends ear.

“he’s stealing megumi’s girl.”

“i know!” she whispered harshly. “what the fuck do we do—”

“i don’t know!”

“well call megumi over—”

suddenly, a tall broad figure walked in between you and takuma, your vision blocked by his back.

“sorry ino,” megumi stepped to the side a little and placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you towards the exit. “we were just leaving.”

yuji and your best friend gave each other a low high five before their eyes darted around, putting on false ignorance.

“sorry!— it was nice meeting you takuma!” you called from over your shoulder before the both of you stepped out of the venue and into the cool night air.

megumi’s car was parked right out front, him unlocking the doors with a button just like he had done the last time, you noticing how all of his awards were set neatly in the back seat.

“oh i’m sorry gumi! did you carry these over by yourself? i was gonna help you—”

you sat yourself on his passenger side seat, the leather creaking with every movement you made.

he shook his head. “i had my publicist team do it. it’s fine.”

“oh okay…” you mumbled, still feeling a little guilty that you didn’t help him.

you went to reach for your seatbelt when megumi’s arm flew in front of you and grabbed the strap, pulling it over your frame and clicking it securely before his hands wrapped back around the steering wheel, just like he had done a month prior.

you couldn’t make out his expression, as it was blank and stone-like and not a word was coming out of his mouth as he backed out from the parking space, but you smiled at him cutely nonetheless and thanked him.

the nearest ice cream shop was literally down the road from the venue, and the drive took less than three minutes before megumi pulled in and parallel parked on the side of the street.

you both stepped out and walked inside, the shop colorful and vibrant as what looked like twenty different assortments of ice cream were on display, your eyes launching across each flavor excitedly.

“i haven’t had ice cream in a fat minute…” you murmured as you pressed your hands against the glass.

“me neither.”

“which flavor do you want megumi?” you asked him sweetly, your eyes still glued to the flavors that it made him chuckle.

“um…” he stepped forward and scanned the different colors. “i’ll take whatever you get.”

you looked at him and your eyebrows softened, “are you sure? what if you don’t like it?”

the corner’s of his lips turned upward, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“it’s okay. i trust you.”

you ended up getting your all time favorite flavor that you never skip— cake batter, one that tastes different depending on who’s palette it is, and something you anxiously thought over as you gnawed on your bottom lip and stared, waiting for him to try it as you both sat on a park bench not too far from the shop.

“why do you look like you’re about to cry.” he snickered lowly.

your eyes snapped to his and you giggled. “i might if you don’t like what i picked out.” you plopped a little spoonful in your mouth, the cold ice cream melting and spreading over your tongue as you swallowed. “cake batter is a hit or miss for different people…”

he hummed, “how come?”

“it’s either too sweet or just nasty.”

“i have a sweet tooth.”

your eyes lit up, “so do i! i’m a big sweets person. i love love desserts and chocolate and ice cream… but i’m not the biggest fan of candy.”

“you’re not?”

“i love candy but not how i love sweets… and i wouldn’t randomly pick it out like at the store because i wanted to. most likely i would get a cookie.”

megumi liked how much you talked.

“have you always had a sweet tooth?” he pressed on, looking at his ice cream cup.

you nodded. “have you?”

“not really,” he shook his head. “i didn’t pick it up until i met—” he stopped. “…my dad.”

met his dad?

megumi spotted your confusion and continued.

“my actual dad disappeared. dunno where he’s at. all i’ve heard is that he had a bad gambling addiction so i’m guessing it had something to do with that.”

your eyes softened.

“gojo is kind of like my dad…” he mumbled. “he’s supported my sister and i financially ever since i was maybe five or six.”

“you have a sister?” you murmured, eyes big.

he nodded. “i do.”

he scooped a bit of cake batter ice cream up with his spoon and plopped it into his mouth, smiling softly. “gojo gave me a sweet tooth. he can’t go a day without it.”

you’d never heard megumi open up so much before, and you felt incredibly lucky and special to be the one to hear about his family and share a precious moment with him over eating ice cream, something you wanted to treat delicately and remember for as long as you lived.

“do you like it?” you asked softly, gesturing to his cup.

“i love it.”

you beamed, and he took in your cute smile for a minute as you ate some more on your end.

“i’m sorry about your actual dad… but i’m glad you and your sister got the support you needed when you were young.”

he nodded.

“did he encourage you to do baseball? or was it you?”

“he did initially.” he shook his head. “he was annoying at first, was a cheerleader at every game and was so loud.”

you giggled.

“but i grew to like it… and that’s what i wanted to do for a career. if it wasn’t for gojo’s funding i wouldn’t have been able to.”

you hummed, savoring the ice cream a bit before swallowing. “that’s really nice, gumi. i’m really happy you got the opportunity to grow your skill out like that…” you swirled the ice cream around your cup with your spoon. “what you have is a solid gift, and i would hate to see it not get the recognition it deserves when you’ve worked so hard to make it what it is now.”

you looked at him. “so i’m really, really glad that it does get it.”

megumi stared at you, face blank and a scoop of yet to be eaten ice cream on his spoon, his cheeks growing hot.

“i don’t know why you think so highly of me.” he murmured.

everyone thinks he’s rude.

your eyebrows furrowed. “i don’t think megumi, i know. you’re not a mean person, you’re honest and serious about the important things in your life. and if the medal around my neck that you gave me selflessly doesn’t tell you otherwise? i might have to kill you.”

he laughed, loud, his eyes sparkling. “you might?”

you bit your lip to refrain yourself from freaking out over his smooth laughter. “i might.”

you subconsciously rubbed your hands over your chilling arms then and megumi eyed it before he put his cup down, reaching next to him for his blazer and opening it up as he gently placed it over your shoulders.

you looked at him like he was the world then, doe eyes big and round and shimmering, and megumi felt like he could do anything with that look as long as it came from you— a permanent red tint on his cheeks that was entirely your doing.

“thank you..” you mumbled shyly, your eyes glued to your now empty cup of ice cream on the bench as you clutched the sides of his blazer, the smell of him wafting in your nose that made you absolutely weak.

megumi timidly, slowly, reached up and moved a strand of hair from your eyes then, and you looked up.

“pretty…” he murmured, dazed even.

his hand fell and landed gently on your exposed thigh from the slit of your dress, but instead of moving it, he let it stay there, his hand smoothing over your plush soft skin as he was completely entranced by your heavenly face, his body pulling his lips closer to yours as megumi’s breath quickened with absolute need the higher up his hand trailed up your yummy thigh.

you couldn’t say a word, he practically didn’t let you as his lips pressed delicately and timidly against your plush ones, his mouth moving so slowly and his tongue parting your wet lips for the purpose of devouring more of you, all while his fingertips reached and felt the side straps of your panties— the material alone making him erratic and desperate while his other hand gripped your waist tightly.

your mouths moved faster now, the sounds of wet smacking and lips separating to reconnect with more greed than before muffling your ears as he breathed heavily through his nose, his eyebrows pinched together in pent up everything as he finally had you with him after months of you avoiding him.

and then you pulled away with a wet pop.

“i—i’m sorry!” you covered your mouth. “i didn’t mean to kiss you!—”

what?

megumi’s eyebrows furrowed, both of your chests heaving as his cheeks and lips were blushed red.

he shook his head, “no i kissed you—”

“don’t cover for me gumiii,” your shoulders slumped, your brain so in denial that he could ever like you back that it tricked you into thinking you were the one kissing and all over him. “fuck i’m sorry… that was so disrespectful and— and weird of me and i—”

megumi’s hands slipped away from your body and he shook his head, his eyes dead locked on yours with his eyebrows pinched together. “y/n no you’re not understanding—”

“i’m the biggest creep on the planet man i understand if you don’t ever want to speak to me again—” you covered your face and leaned forward.

megumi stared at you astonishingly as he listened to you ramble apologies and dramatic insults for yourself continuously, his shoulders slowly relaxing and his lips turning into a soft knowing smile, your random speech starting to make absolutely no sense at all and his heart aching at the fact of how naive you were.

“y/n.”

you stopped. “what.”

he reached over and pulled your hands away from your face. “you’re helpless, you know that?”

“helpless and a creep.”

he laughed and shook his head. “stop it.”

he stood and offered his hand out for you.

“it’s getting late, i’m driving you home.”

megumi decided he would properly speak to you about it the next time he saw you… except he didn’t.

you started avoiding him like the plague again, horrendously horrified about what you believed you had done, thinking that it was better if you stayed away from him and fulfilled your initial task of forgetting him, no matter how much it hurt you.

you didn’t want megumi to ever be uncomfortable or experience what you believed he experienced with you. he didn’t deserve that. he didn’t deserve a pathetic little fan girl that never left him alone and hindered his work on the field, even though you wished so badly you could see him again, as the taste of his lips and mouth never left your fuzzy mind.

you kissed megumi fushiguro.

“oh my god y/n, you’re so stupid.”

“no i’m not! do you really believe megumi could ever like me back? no! absolutely not. i kissed him and i fucked up and that’s it. i’m staying away from him.”

your best friend ran her fingers through her hair and almost tore a chunk out in frustration. “it sounds like he kissed you! he had his hand on your thigh—”

“that was for stability! he—”

“no it was to feel you up!”

you shook your head side to side with your arms crossed. “nope nope nope nope—���

“y/nnnn!”

as for megumi, the next game he had he looked for you while on the field like he always did, looking forward to seeing your precious face and giving you a little wave… except he couldn’t find you. after the game, he went around the stadium and towards the locker room, inside and back out, the parking lot, his parking lot—

and he couldn’t find you.

this went on for a full three weeks of game after game nearly every day him doing the same exact thing— him getting increasingly more confused and a bit upset at your disappearance, going as far as to staying hours after his games still in his sweaty baseball uniform and cap with hopes that you’ll turn up.

except you never did.

and at the end of the third week, he had had enough.

“oh hey megumi!” your best friend greeted him, her hand fixing around yuji’s hair in the locker room after a game.

“hi.”

he stood there and said nothing, and your best friend eyed him skeptically. “…yes?”

megumi shifted awkwardly. “have you um… have you seen y/n?”

she sucked in a breath. “uh yeah. i saw her this morning.”

“this morning?” his eyes narrowed. “is she okay? why hasn’t she been coming to our games with you?”

“because—” she stammered. “well because—”

“is it our place to say?” yuji muttered.

“is it our place to know?” she whispered back harshly.

“i don’t know!”

“let’s just tell him!”

“but what if!—”

megumi rolled his eyes and huffed. “nevermind. please tell her to come tomorrow, i need to talk to her.”

your best friend gulped and nodded, both her and yuji watching the way he walked away and snatched his cap off, throwing it inside his locker and slamming it shut with his foot before picking up his duffel bag and leaving, not even bothering to change out of his dirt covered uniform.

“i’ve never seen him so stressed,” yuji commented.

“it’s because he likes her and she’s being an idiot…” your best friend sighed sadly.

so when she came to you the next day and told you megumi needed to speak to you, she amplified how upset he was to get you to feel bad and feel the urgent need to come to the game tonight, which you of course did.

and you were worried. so so worried and scared that he was finally going to tell you off for kissing him, to tell you that you sucked and that he never ever wanted to see you again in his life and that you were a disgusting human being—

but the roar of the crowd pulled you from your thoughts, the team winning once again as many began to pack their things and take their leave. you were completely and utterly shitting yourself, petrified and already heartbroken over the fact that megumi was officially going to cut you off as a friend when you hadn’t even had the chance to try and win him over yet.

and the way he played on the field tonight was way more aggressive than normal. he was louder, meaner, and didn’t take his eyes away from the ball or his opponents as he nearly got into a fight with another player, yuji and a few others needing to pull megumi apart and set him aside to cool off— the cameras and reporters having a field day in regards to him.

and that bothered you like nothing else. why the hell were they so excited over him getting angry? to amplify the brand that he upholds as the teams meanest player? as if they’ve never had a bad day a day in their lives? what was the point?

and it was all because of you, you realized.

you made him upset.

you covered your face with your hands and groaned, feeling like you wanted to cry.

“y/n…” your best friend patted your back. “it’ll be fine… he just needs to talk to you! you don’t even know what it’s about.”

“i can take a wild guess.”

she looked at you worriedly before picking up her things. “whenever you’re ready babe… i think he’s in the locker rooms by now.”

she left you there to gather yourself, and you sat there for a couple of more minutes before finally getting up and making your way to the locker rooms.

most of the fans had cleared out by now, and the sun was beginning to set as you passed and squeezed through crew members and news reporters, gnawing at your bottom lip as you turned a corner and spotted the locker room, many of the players already leaving.

just as you had reached your hand up to open the door, a firm voice called out to you.

“y/n.”

you froze, retracting your hand as you turned to look.

megumi stood there at the end of the hall, his baseball uniform still on and his cap dangling from his belt loop, hands in tight fists with his chest rising and falling, an agitated look on his face that you had never seen before.

“h—hi-”

“are you trying to forget me? is that what’s going on?”

your eyebrows furrowed.

“what?”

megumi took stride full steps towards you. “you finally talk to me, you confess to me, you disappear for a month, i wait for you, you finally show up at the banquet looking like the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my fucking life—”

he stopped in front of you. “takuma tries to steal you from me, i get pissed off, i fall for you at the park, i kiss you—“ he threw his arms up. “and you disappear again!”

your eyes bulge out of their sockets.

fall?

“you what?—”

“so i’m asking you again,” megumi bent his knees to look at you at eye level, his hands coming up to cup your pink cheeks and his face so close to yours you can make out the exact color of his eyes.

“are you trying to forget me? like you said you would?”

you fidgeted.

“i— i was doing it for you—”

“why for me? i never said—”

the feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was making your heart do backflips and trick shots as your wide doe eyes looked at him.

“because when i kissed you i made you uncomfortable and i don’t ever want you to be so i thought it’d be best if i left you alone—”

“okay let’s fix that right now,” his hands tightened slightly around your cheeks and he readjusted his footing, knees still bent. “i kissed you. if anything i should be the one worried if i made you uncomfortable because i put my hand on your thigh like that and for that i’m sorry.”

“no but—”

“yes y/n. i kissed you because you’re polite and you’re sweet and you’re funny, and you don’t see me as rude like everybody else does. and even though you’re naive and helpless sometimes, i like that you are. i like you.”

“but you’re megumi fushiguro…” you squeaked.

“so?”

“and i’m a loser.”

he laughed so cutely and shook his head, his pearly whites fully shining at you so big that it took you back to the first time he smiled in front of you.

“no you’re not you big dummy.”

he let go of your cheeks and placed his palms flat against the brick wall behind you, cornering you in as he let his head hang low, the top of his spiky black hair the only thing in your line of vision.

“i don’t know how else i can make you see…”

he sounded so exhausted, and your heart clenched.

“was it—” you timidly placed your hands on his shoulders. “was it actually you that kissed me?”

he nodded, head still hung.

“and do you actually like me? like— like more than a friend…”

“way fucking more,” he mumbled.

you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain yourself from screaming.

you couldn’t believe it. the megumi fushiguro, number eighteen, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen and the kindest one you’ve ever met… liked you.

“i could’ve sworn i kissed you..” you spoke softly, trailing off.

“you didn’t.” his voice was firm. “i kissed you and i put my hand up your thigh…” his forehead lifted to rest on the crook of your neck as he sighed a deep breath.

“i told— i told takuma to scram at the banquet because i got jealous that you were talking to him more than me. i saw you crying in the hall that first time we spoke and i recognized you and i went up to you because finally—”

he picked his head up slowly, eyes serious. “finally, you noticed me.”

he was so close that your nose brushed gently with his.

“you’re so dense y/n…”

megumi’s eyes flickered to your lips, “i’ve wanted you since the party.”

“the party?” you murmured.

he nodded. “the party where your friend first met yuji.”

your breath hitched as you felt his hands slide down the wall and snake over your hips, holding you tightly against him as the shock of his words made your body numb and tingly.

since the party?

it all seemed to click into place then, every single moment megumi tried to get you to look at him, to talk to him, in his own discreet way that you were completely oblivious to. and you were so fucking caught up in this fog of denial, that a person like megumi could never be interested in a person like you, that it made you push him away for the longest time without even giving yourself a chance.

you were so fucking stupid.

your arms slowly wrapped around his broad shoulders, the rough feeling of his baseball uniform underneath your fingertips and arms as you pressed your nose up against his shoulder shyly, feeling so incredibly bad for avoiding megumi for so long.

“i’m sorry…” you mumbled. “i’m sorry i was so oblivious gumi.”

you felt him shake his head from the crook of your neck silently, the vibration of his heart beating rapidly against you making you sweat and melt at the same time.

“don’t be.”

“i just—” you struggled. “i just thought you didn’t like me like i liked you and i wanted to respect your space…”

“i understand,” he muttered. “but i don’t want you to respect my space anymore.”

you held him tighter.

“and—” your voice was slightly muffled by his shoulder.

“hm?”

“i liked it when you put your hand on my thigh…”

megumi stilled, you playing the night he kissed you over and over in your head again like you’ve done since it happened— the thought making you nervous and timid.

he gripped you tighter.

“did you?”

you nodded, “mhm.”

megumi without parting from you, slipped a hand under your shirt and soothed his fingers over the bare skin of your torso, your breathing stuttering, his rough hand radiating warmth.

“what else do you like.”

you gripped the fabric of his uniform.

“i like… i like the way you kissed me. and how you touch me… like right now.”

your voice was so so soft, practically a whisper as he seemed to shiver under your words, wanting more.

“what else.”

“you,” you mumbled. “your body… your hair… your face… your hands… the way you talk to people.”

“you want me?” he murmured breathlessly.

“more than anything.”

“what else do you like?”

you leaned your head back a little and pressed your lips to his ear. “the way you play ball.”

he hummed, “you like the way i play baby?”

you nodded, your heart hammering.

he lifted his face from the crook of your neck and shamelessly pressed his lips to your cheek, murmuring.

“you wanna see what else i can do?”

“what— what else?”

megumi’s face remained pressed against your cheek as he let both of his hands now snake underneath your shirt and upwards, slowly but roughly groping the cup of your tits over your bra, feeling you up as you gasped.

“uh huh..” he pressed an open mouthed wet kiss to your pink fuzzy cheek. “‘cause i can do a lot more than just be your cool baseball man.”

he roughly spun you around and pushed you up against the wall, his hands coming back up to your breasts to grope you as he shoved and rubbed his hardened clothed dick against your perky ass, your tiny skirt riding up and revealing your pretty pink panties that made him absolutely feral.

“gumi!” you gasped. “s—someone could see—”

“i don’t fucking care.”

megumi buried his nose further into the back of your neck and your hair, him being a little pervert in the most delicious and intoxicating way possible.

he dragged his mouth up against your skin and latched on to the nape of your neck, sucking and biting sloppily against it as he marked you aggressively, no doubt in your mind that a purple bruise would follow soon after as his hands slipped under your bra now, pinching your hard nipples meanly and laughing when you jumped.

you moaned and whined against the wall, your body trembling as you felt your slick arousal slip from your hole and dampen your panties, choked up embarrassment coating your face as he shoved his fingers down your skirt without warning.

“you’re soaked baby…” he whispered. “and all because i grabbed your tits?”

“megumiii…” you whined, and you squeaked as he quickly slipped his fingers in between your pussy lips and pinched your clit.

“gumi,” he corrected. “fix it.”

“g—gumi—”

“good, pretty baby...” he praised, his dick rock fucking solid against your ass at the way his fingers slipped and slid in between your lower lips without much effort, both of your chests heaving and panting as your brains frazzled erotically.

the sounds of footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and you both immediately froze, a gasp slipping past your lips before megumi quickly covered your mouth with the same hand that was just fingering you.

“shh.” he kissed the back of your head.

if anyone were to walk in and see the sight before them— megumi with his crotch pressed up against your ass, a hand pushing your top and bra up, squeezing your bare puffy tit and the other covering your mouth?

they’d drop dead.

without another moment wasted, megumi uncovered your mouth and turned you around, his tongue darting out and licking the patch of wet on your cheek from his fingers before shoving them in his mouth, sucking up your left over juice as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder.

megumi was freaky.

your eyes widened as he walked to the double doors of the locker room and kicked it open with his foot, turning around to lock them shut before walking to a corner and setting you down gently on a bench, his palms flat beside you on the smooth wood as he towered over you.

“is— is everybody gone?”

“long gone.” he nibbled at your cheek.

“but— but what if someone wants to come in?—”

he pulled away and got down on his knees. “i’ll tell them to fuck off.”

you panted as he pressed his hands against your thighs and squeezed, spreading them apart slowly with his eyes trained to your drenched cute pink panties.

he slid his hands underneath your thighs and lifted, bending you and pressing your knees closer to you as your back hit the lockers behind you, your hands gripping the bench for dear life.

“has anyone ever seen your pussy?” he gruffed, licking his lips.

you shook your head, embarrassed. “n—no.”

“has any other man touched you the way i’ve touched you?”

“m—maybe in high school?—”

megumi sunk his teeth into your inner thigh and bit you as you yelped.

“thought you liked me.”

“i do!” you sputtered.

“clearly not if you’re being a little whore and letting other filthy men on you.”

your hole clenched.

“that— that was before you!”

he stuck his tongue out and pressed it flat against your pussy covered panties, dragging it slowly and agonizingly up until the tip of his tongue passed and flicked up against your clit, the tip moving around and around your little nub as your thighs shook.

“doesn’t matter.” he let a string of drool fall from the corner of his lips and over your ruined underwear, your eyes fluttering as you felt his warm saliva ooze in between your lips.

“and what about takuma, hm?”

you tried to open your eyes. “ta—takuma?”

“mhm. he was all over you.”

you hiccuped as he wrapped his fingers around the straps of your panties and pulled them down.

“i—”

“bet he wanted to do to you what i’m doing right now…” he hummed. “would you have let him?”

he stuffed his nose into your bare pussy and inhaled deeply, your jaw dropping as you squeezed your eyes shut.

your lack of response caused him to pull away and bite your thigh again, harder.

“would you?”

“n—no!” you shook your head quickly, strands of your hair lightly grazing your face. “i wouldn’t—”

“so who then?” he licked over his bite mark. “who would you spread your legs open for like this and let them see what a nasty fucking girl you are…”

“you gumi!” you hiccuped. “just you—”

“just me?”

megumi finally let his tongue slither itself in between your folds, slowly running over your flaps and clit as your hole continued to squelch out your arousal, pooling on the bench beneath you.

“y—yes!”

he slobbered and spit over your pussy like a starved dog, his face glistening like sugary glazed sweets.

“that’s what i fucking thought,” he hummed. “you gonna try and forget me again?”

“no!” you shook your head. “never! i can’t!”

he gripped your thighs tighter as he absolutely violated your folds then, wet sloshing and slurpings filling the air as he spat and shook his head side to side rapidly on your clit, you squealing and attempting to snap your thighs shut in response, his strong grip not letting you even if you tried.

“i—i can’t!” you cried. “gumi slow please it’s too much—”

“be a pretty baby and stop complaining.” he ran his slimy tongue over your pussy entirely before shoving it inside your hole.

you choked and clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, tears of ecstasy spilling from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut.

you whimpered and moaned and cried so pathetically, so cutely in his ears that he grinned as he pumped his tongue in and out of you filthily.

“you’re so fucking sweet—” he slapped your cunt and you jumped. “good thing i have a sweet tooth.”

your legs shook violently as you began to see stars, your tight hole clenching and sputtering around nothing as you felt your release approaching.

“gumi—” your hand flew back to the bench and you gripped it. “m’gonna cum! i’m— i’m gonna make a mess—”

megumi’s hand shot up and wrapped around one of your thighs so the tips of his fingers met your clit, his digits proceeding to rub and flick it as you climbed and reached your high, a high pitched scream echoing through the steamy locker room as your pussy leaked your sweet cum on his tongue.

you shuddered and jumped at the way he cleaned up your release and swallowed it, running his tongue soothingly over the bite marks on your thighs before coming back up and wiping his glistening face with his sleeve.

megumi leaned in and pressed a gentle loving kiss to your lips, a complete turn around from the feral beast you had in between your legs— you kissing him back with just as much feel and affection.

he pulled back and got back up on his feet, you watching him ditzy as he jogged over to his locker and turned the lock until it clicked open, him rummaging inside for a little before he shut it and came back with a fresh pair of gray sweatpants.

“put these on baby,” he murmured.

you nodded sweetly and took them from him, you slipping off your skirt and pulling his sweatpants over as you watched him bend and look over corners.

“what are you looking for?” you asked softly.

he perked up then and stuck his hand under a bench, pulling out your wet ruined pink panties and holding them up high like a trophy.

“oh my god—” you covered your mouth in embarrassment. “give me those!”

“nope.” he shook his head and walked over to his duffel bag on the floor, unzipping it before stuffing your panties inside. “these are mine now.”

megumi came back up and wrapped his palm underneath your chin, tilting your face up softly before planting a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.

“and so are you.”

and that you were.

you went on many many dates with megumi after that, each and every single one so incredibly lovely and fun, a genuine connection you felt with him and each other that you had never ever felt before in your life, absolutely enamored by the way he gently treated you and made you feel like the only one that mattered in his life.

your best friend was obviously over the moon for you, squealing like a maniac at everything you told her, and always teased megumi about his lovesick face whenever you came to his games or appeared in the locker room to help him change, sort his clothes, or fix his hair.

“megumi…” she snickered. “your cheeks are a little red! are you like— sick?”

he scowled at her and turned the other way, wiping his sweaty forehead as he watched you bounce down the steps cutely and onto the field after one of his practices, a huge smile on your face that replicated on his.

the minute you jumped into his arms, he peppered your little cheeks with kisses as you giggled and ruffled his spiky hair, asking him how he felt about practice and other things after he set you down.

without anyone noticing, a journalist was on the field, and at the sight of megumi fushiguro’s beaming toothy smile as he watched you run to him, they quickly snapped a photo and published it.

one was a perfect portrait photo of his shining white smile (that later became his signature picture) and the other was a photo of his arms out for you as you ran, the both of them causing an absolute uproar that altered megumi’s image from that day forward.

megumi fushiguro was thought to be the meanest player on the team since the day he got signed.

but when he started taking more pictures with fans, kind of stopped offending the people around him, signed more autographs, and smiled occasionally at the paparazzi— all while your pretty self stood right next to him?

megumi fushiguro was sometimes the meanest player on the team.

————————————————————————

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

[koolades-world]

Demons and Humans not understanding each other

Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos

this is mostly mammon freaking out

Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind

“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”

“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”

Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.

“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”

“I’m sweating with this one jacket”

“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”

“no I don’t think you will”

On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive

“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”

“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”

“Everything except the part where I boil alive”

“what!”

Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card

“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”

“Asmo I feel funny”

“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”

“FUCK NOT AGAIN”

In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it

“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”

“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”

“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”

“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”

“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”

I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t

Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them

“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”

“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”

(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)

Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that

“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”

“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”

“I’m sorry, you played what?”

“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”

“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”

“HE WHAT”

“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?”

Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive

[felikatze]

ISAT and Ludonarrative Harmony: Combat is a Storytelling Tool

Or: How Siffrin is stuck in the endgame grind, forever

Please Note: This is primarily aimed at an audience that already played In Stars and Time, because I am bad at explaining things, and it's good to already know what the fuck I'm talking about. I tend to only bring up game elements as I want to talk about them.

Spoilers for.... all of ISAT! Especially Act 5!

(image to show how i feel posting this and as an attention grabber over my wall of text)

To pull a definition of ludonarrative harmony out of a hat, game writer Lauryn Ash defines it as follows:

Ludonarrative harmony is when gameplay and story work together to create a meaningful and immersive experience. From a design implementation perspective, it is the synchronized interactions between in-game actions (mechanics) and in-world context (story).

It is, generally speaking, how well game mechanics work hand in hand with the story. I, personally, think ISAT is an absolute masterclass of it, so I want to take a look at how ISAT specifically uses its battle system to emphasize Siffrin's character arc and create organic story moments. I want you to keep this in mind when I talk here.

So, skills, right? If you've played any turn-based RPG, you know your Fire spells, your "BACKSLASH! AIRSLASH! BACKSLASH!" and the many ways to style those.

Well, what does casting "Fire" say about your character? Not all that much, does it? Perhaps you'll have typical divisions. The smart one is the mage, the big brawny one is your tank, the petite one's the healer. And that's the barebones of ISAT's main party, but it's much more than that.

Every character's style of combat tells you something about them. Odile, the Researcher, is the most well-travelled and knowledgable of the bunch. She's the one with the expertise to keep a cool head and analyze the enemy, yet also able to use all three of the Rock-Paper-Scissors craft types.

To reflect her analytical view of things, all her skill names are just descriptive, the closest to your most bog-standard RPG. "Slow IV" or "Paper III" serve well to describe their purpose. The high number of the skills gives the impression there were three other Slow skills beforehand - fitting, considering the party starts at level 45, about to head into the final dungeon. She's also the oldest, so she's the slowest of the bunch.

Isabea, the Fighter, has all his skills in exclamation points. "YOUR TURN!!!" "SO WEAK!!!" "SMASH!!!" they're straightforward, but excited. He's a purposefully cheerfull guy, so his skills revolve around cheering on his allies. He's absolutely pumped to be here, and you see that from his skill names alone.

Mirabelle, the Housemaiden, is an interesting case. She's by all means the true protagonist of this tale - She's the one "Chosen by the Change God," the only one who survived the King's first attack, the only one immune to his ability to freeze time, the only dual-craft type of the game - just a lot of things. And her skill names reflect that facade she puts on herself - she can do this, she can win! She has to believe it, or else she starts doubting. This is how you get "Jolly Round Rondo" and "Mega Sparkle Heal" or "Adorable Moving Cure." She's styled every bit a sailor scout shojo heroine, and her moveset replicates the naming conventions of "In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"

Even Bonnie, the Kid, who can't be controlled in combat, has named craft skills. And they very much reflect that Bonnie is, well, a kid. "Wolf Speed Technique" or "Thousand Blows Technique" are very much the phrasings of a child who learned one complicated word and now wants to use it in everything to seem cooler than they are, which is none, because they're twelve.

Siffrin's skills are all puns.

You have an IMMEDIATE feel for personality here. Between "Knife to Meet You!" and "Too Cleaver by Half," you know Siffrin's the type to always crack a joke no matter the situation, slinging witticisms around to put Sonic the Hedgehog to shame. It's just such a clever way to establish character using a game mechanic as old as the entire history of RPGs.

This is only the baseline of the way the combat system feeds into the story, though.

The timeloop, of course, feeds into it. Siffrin is the only character who retains experience upon looping, whereas all other characters are reset to their base level and skills. And it sucks (affectionate).

You're extremely likely to battle more often the earlier in the game you are - after all, you need the experience (for now.) Every party member contributes, and Siffrin isn't all that strong on their own, since they focus on raw scissor type damage with the addition of one speed buff. (Of course it's a speed buff. They're a speedy fucker. Just look at him).

At first, the difference in level between Siffrin and the rest of the group is rather negligible. Just a level or two. Just a bit more speed and attack. And then Siffrin grows further and further apart. Siffrin keeps learning new skills. He gets a healing skill that doubles as an attack boost, taking away from both Mirabelle's and Isabeau's usefullness. He gets Craft skills of every type that even give you two jackpot points instead of one - thus obliterating Odile's niche. Siffrin turns into a one-person army capable of clearing most encounters all on their own.

Siffrin's combat progression is an exact mirror of story progression - as their experience inside the loops grows, they also grow further and further away from their party. The party seems... weaker, slower, clumsier. Always back at their starting point, just as all of their character arcs are reset each loop. Never advancing, always stagnant. And you have Siffrin as the comparison post right next to them.

I also want to point out here a change from Act 2 to Act 3 - Siffrin's battle portrait. He stops smiling.

Battles keep getting easier. This is true both for the reason that Siffrin keeps growing stronger even when all enemies stay the same, but also for the reason that you, the player, learn more about the battle system and the various encounters, until you've learned perfect boss clear strategies just from repetition. Have you ever watched a speedrunner play Pokemon? They've played this game so many times, they could do it blindfolded and sleeping. Your own knowledge and Siffrin's new strength work in tandem to trivialize the game's entire combat system as the game progresses.

(Is it still fun? Playing it over, and over, and over again? Is it?)

You and Siffrin are in sync, your experience making everything trivial.

As time goes on, Siffrin grows to care less and less about performing right for their party and more and more about going fast. A huge moment in his character is marked by the end of Act 3; because of story events I won't delve too deeply into, Siffrin has grown afraid of trying something new. And his options of escape are closing in. They need an answer, and they need it fast. He doesn't have the time or patience to dumb himself down, so you unlock one new skill.

It doesn't occur with level up, or with a quest, or anything at all. At the start of Act 4, it simply appears in Siffrin's Craft skills.

(Just attack.)

No pun. No joke. Just attack. Once you notice, the effect is immediate - here you have it, a clear sign of how jaded Siffrin has become, right at every encounter. And it's a damn good attack, too! The only available attack in the game that deals "massive" damage against all enemies. Because it doesn't add any jackpot points (at least, it's not supposed to), you set up a combo with everybody else, but Siffrin simply tears away at the enemy with wild abandon. Seperated from the rest of the party by the virtue of no longer needing to contribute to team attacks (most of the time. It's still useful if they do, though).

Once again, an aspect of the battle system enhances the degree of separation between Siffrin and the static characters of his play. You're incentivized to separate him, even.

Additionally, there are two more skills to learn. They're the only skills that replace previous skills. You only get them at extremely high levels, the latter of which I didn't even reach on both of my playthroughs.

The first, somewhere in the level 70 range, Rose Printed Glasses, a paper type craft skill, is replaced by Tear You Apart. It's still a pun about paper, but remarkedly more vicious.

The second is even more on the nose. At level 80, In A While, Rockodile!, a rock type craft skill, is replaced by the more powerful Rock Bottom.

I didn't get to level 80. If you do, you pretty much have to do it on purpose. You have to keep going much longer than necessary, as Siffrin is just done. And the last skill he learns is literally called Rock Bottom.

What do I even need to say, really.

Your party doesn't stay static forever, though.

By doing their hangout quests, side quests throughout the loops that result in Siffrin and the character having a heart to heart, all of them unlock what I'd call an "ultimate" skill. You know the type - the character achieved self-fulfillment, hit rank 10 on their confidant, maxed out their skill tree, and received a reward for their trouble.

These skills are massively useful. My favorite is Odile's - it makes one enemy weak to all Craft types for several turns, which basically allows you to invalidate the first and third boss, as well as just clown on the King, especially once Siffrin starts racking up damage.

But the thing is. In Act 3, when you first get them, yeah, they're useful. But... do you need them? After all, they're such a hassle to get. You need to do the whole character quest again, you can't loop forward in the House or you'll lose them. If you want to take these skills to the King, you need to commit. Go the full nine-yards and be nice to your friends and not die and not skip forward or skip back. Which is annoying, right?

Well, I sure did think so during Act 4. After all, a base level party can still defeat the King, just with a few more tricky pieces involved. Siffrin can oneshot almost all basic enemies by the time of Act 4. It's this exact evalutation that you, the player, go through everytime you return to Dormont. Do I want this skill, still? Would it not be faster to go on without it? I'm repeating myself, but that's the thing! That's what Siffrin is thinking, too!

I also want to take a quick moment to note, here - all skills gained from hangouts have art associated with them, which no other skills do. This feature, the nifty art, hammers home these as "special" skills, besides just how they're unlocked.

Siffrin also has one skill with associated art.

Yeah, you guessed it, it's (Just attack.)

At first, helping the characters is tied to a hefty in-game reward, but that reward loses its value, and in return devalues helping Siffrin's friends every loop. It's too tedious for a skill that'll make a boss go by one turn faster. You, the player, grow jaded with the battle system. Grinding experience isn't worth it, everybody's highest levels are already recorded. Fighting bosses isn't worth it, it's much faster to loop forward.

Isn't this what all endgame in video games looks like? You already beat the final boss, and now... what challenge is left? Is there a point to keep playing? Most games will have some post-game content. A superboss to test your skills against, but ISAT doesn't have any of that. You're forever left chasing to the post-game. That's the whole point - to escape the game.

As most games get more difficult as time passes, ISAT only gets easier. The game becomes disinterested in expanding its own mechanics just as I ran out of new things to fight after 100%-ing Kingdom Hearts 3. Every encounter becomes a simple game of "press button to win."

The final boss just takes that one up a notch.

Spoilers for Act 5 ahead boys!

In Act 5, Siffrin utterly loses it. His last possible hope for escape failed him, told him there's nothing she can do, and Siffrin is trapped for eternity. So of course, they go insane and run up the entire House without their party.

This just proves what you already knew - you dont need the party to proceed. Siffrin alone is strong enough. And here, Siffrin has entirely shed the facade of the jokester they used to be. Every single skill now follows the (Just attack.) naming conventions. Your skills are: (Paper.) (Rock.) (Scissors.) (Breathe.)

To the point. Not a moment wasted, because Siffrin can't take a moment longer of any of this. Additionally, his level is set to 99 and his equipment becomes fixed. You can't even pick up items anymore! Not that you needed them at this point anyway, right? Honestly, I never used any items besides the Salty Broth since Act 2, so I stopped picking items up a long time ago. Now you just literally can't.

Something I've not talked about until now - one of the main equipment types in this game are Memories, gained for completing subquests or specific interactions and events. They all by and large have little effects - make Odile's tonics heal more, or have Mirabelle cast a shield at the start of combat. For the hangout events, you also gain an associated memory that boosts the characters' stats by 30. It lets them keep up with Siffrin again! A fresh wind! Finally, your party members feel on par with you again!

...For a time. And just like that, they're irrelevant again, just as helping them gave Siffrin a brief moment of hope that the power of friendship could fix everything.

In Act 5, your memory is set to "Memory of Emptiness." It allows you to loop back in the middle of combat. You literally can't die anymore. Not that Siffrin could've died by this point in the first place, unless you forgot about the King's instant-kill attack. This one memory takes away the false pretense that combat ever had any stakes. Siffrin's level being set to 99 means even the scant exp you get is completely wasted on them. All stakes and benefits from combat have been removed. It has become utterly pointless.

Frustrating, right? It's an artistic frustration, though. It traps you right here in Siffrin's shoes, because he hates that all these blinding Sadnesses are still walking around just as much. It all inspires just a tiny fraction of that deep rolling anger Siffrin experiences here in the player.

And listen, it was cathartic, that one time Siffrin snapped and stabbed the tutorial Sadness, wasn't it? Because who enjoys sitting through the tutorial that often? Siffrin doesn't. I don't, either.

So, since combat is an useless obstacle now meant to inspire frustration, what do you do for a boss? You can't well make it a gameplay challenge now, no. The bosses of Act 5 are an emotional challenge: a painful wait.

First, Siffrin fights the King, alone. This is already nervewracking because of one factor - in every other run, you need Mirabelle's shield skill, or else you're scripted to die. You're actually forced to fight the King multiple times in Act 3, and have to do it at least once in Act 4, though you'll likely do it more. Point is: you know how this fight works.

You know Siffrin's fight is doomed from the outset, but all you can do is keep slinging attacks. Siffrin is enough of a powerhouse to take the King's HP down, what with the healing and buff skills they have now, not to even mention you can just go all in on damage and then loop back.

(And no matter which way you play it, whether you just loop or use strategically, it reflects on Siffrin, too. Has he grown callous enough not even death will stop their mission? Or does he still avoid pain, as much as he can?)

This fight still allows you the artifice of even that much choice, not that it matters. The other shoe drops eventually - Siffrin becomes slower, and slower. Unsettling, considering this game works on an Action Gauge system. You barely get turns anymore. The screen gets darker, and darker. Until Siffrin is frozen in time, just as you knew he had to be, because you know how this encounter works, know it can't be cleared without Mirabelle.

And, then, a void.

Siffrin awakens to nothingness. The only way to tell you've hit a wall is if Siffrin has no walking animation to match your button inputs. You walk, and walk, until you're approached by.... you. The next enemy encounter of the game, and Siffrin's absolute lowest point: Mal Du Pays.

Or, "Homesickness," in english. If you know the game, you know why it's named this, but that's not the point at the moment.

Thing is, where you could damage the King and are damaged in turn, giving you at least a proper combat experience, even if its doomed to fail, Mal Du Pays has no such thing.

You can attack. You can defend. But it is immune to all attacks. And in return, it does nothing. It's common, at least, for undefeatable enemies to be a "survive" challenge, but nope. The entire fight is "press button and wait." Except, remember the previous fight against the King? The entire time, you were waiting for the big instant death attack to drop. That feeling, at least for me, carried forward. I was incredibly on edge just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, as is a pattern, Siffrin is, too. As Siffrin's attacks fail to connect, they start talking to Mal Du Pays.

But he gets no response, as you get no attacks to strategize around. The wait for anything to happen is utterly agonizing. You and Siffrin are both waiting for something to happen. This isn't a fight. It just pretends to be. It's an utter rugpull, because Siffrin was so undefeatable for most of Act 4 and all of Act 5 so far. It's kind of terrifying!

and it does. It finally does something. Ma Du Pays speaks, in the voice of Siffrin's friends, listing out their deepest fears. I think it's honestly fantastic. You're forced to just sit here and listen to Siffrin's deepest doubts, things you know the characters could not say because it references the timeloops they're all utterly unaware of. This is all Siffrin, talking to himself. And all you, all Siffrin, can do, is keep wailing away on the enemy to no effect whatsoever.

So of course this ends with Siffrin giving up. What else can you do?

And then Siffrin's friends show up and unfreeze them and it's all very cool yay. The pure narrative scenes aren't really the main focus but I want to point out here:

A) Mirabelle is in the first party slot here, referencing how she's the de facto protagonist, and Bonnie fills in the fourth slot left empty, which shows all characters uniting to save Siffrin

B) this is the only instance of the other party members having act specific battle icons: they're all smiling brightly, further pushed by the upbeat music

C) the reflecting shield Mirabelle uses to freeze the King uses a variation of her hangout skill cut in, marking it as her true "final" skill and giving the whole fight a more climatic feeling.

It's also a short gameplay sequence with Siffrin utterly uninvolved in the battle. You can't even see them onscreen. But... it feels warm, doesn't it? Everybody coming together. Siffrin doesn't have to fight anymore.

At last, the King is defeated. Siffrin and co. make for the Head Housemaiden, to have her look at Siffrin's sudden illness. Siffrin is utterly exhausted, famished, running a fever. And this isn't unexpected - after all, their skills in Act 5 had no cooldown. For context, instead of featuring any sort of MP system, all skills work on a cooldown basis, where a character can't use it for a certain number of turns. The lowest cooldown is actually Siffrin's Knife to Meet You, which has a cooldown of 1. In universe, this is reasoned as the characters needing a break from spamming craft in order to not exhaust themselves.

Siffrin's skills in Act 5 having no cooldown/being infinitely spammable isn't a sign of their strength - it's a sign that he refuses to let himself rest in order to rush through as fast as possible.

Moving on, Siffrin panics when seeing the Head Housemaiden, because seeing her means one thing: the end. Prior to this in the game, every single time you beat the King, the loop ends when you talk to the Head Housemaiden.

Reality breaks down, the whole shebang. It's here that Siffrin realizes - they don't want the loops to end, because the end of their journey means their family will leave, and he'll be alone again. The happiest time of his life will be over.

Siffrin goes totally ballistic, to say the least.

As it turns out (and was heavily foreshadowed narratively), Siffrin has been using Wish Craft to subconciously cause the timeloop because of their abandonment issues. It's rather predictable if you paid attention to literally anything, but it's extremely notable how heavily Siffrin is paralleled to the King, the antagonist they swore to kill by themself at the start of Act 5. The King wants to freeze Vaugarde in time because it is, in his mind, "perfect," for accepting him after he lost his home - a backstory he shares with Siffrin.

Siffrin has become the exact antagonist he swore to kill, and it's shown by how the next fight utterly flips everything on its head.

Siffrin is the final boss.

In a towering form made of stars, Siffrin looks down at their friends. His face is terrified, because of his internal conflict; he can't hurt his friends, but he can't let them go, either. The combat prompt is simply changed to "END IT!"

This fight is similar to the previous, in that you just need to wait a certain number of turns until its over. However, this time, it's not dreadful suspense. It's... confusion, and hesitance.

You have two options for combat: Attack your friends, or attack yourself.

And... you don't really want to do either, I think. I certainly don't. But what else can you do? It's Siffrin's desires clashing in full force. Attack your friends, and force them to stay? Or attack yourself, and let them go safely without you?

Worth noting, here - when you attack Siffrin's friends, you can't harm them. Isabeau will shield all attacks. And when you attack yourself, Mirabelle will heal you back to full. And the friends don't... do anything, either. How could they? Occasionally, Mirabelle heals you and Isabeau shouts words of motivation, but the main thing is...

(Your friends don't know what to do.)

None of them want to harm Siffrin. Both sides simply stare at each other, resolute in their conviction but unwilling to end it with violence. It's of note that this loop, the last one, is the only loop where the King isn't killed. Just frozen. And now here is Siffrin, clamoring for the same eternity the King was. Of course everything ends in a tearfilled conversation as Siffrin sees their friends won't leave him, even after the journey ends, but I still have to appreciate this moment.

Siffrin is directly put in the position with their friends as his enemies, forced to physically reckon that keeping them in this loop is an act of violence, against both their friends, and against himself.

It's a happy ending. But... what does it mean?

Of course, ISAT is obviously about the fear of change. Siffrin is afraid of the journey ending, and of being alone. However, ISAT is also a game about games. Siffrin is playing the same game, over and over, because it's comforting. It's familiar. It's nice, to know exactly what happens next. These characters might just be predictable lines of dialogue, but... they feel like friends. Have you ever played a game, loved it, put countless hours into it, but you never finished it? Because you just couldn't bear to see it end? For the characters to leave your life, for there to be a void in your heart where the game used to be?

After all, maybe it became part of your routine! You play the game every day, slowly chipping away at it for weeks at a time. For me, I beat ISAT in four days. It utterly consumed me during this time. I had 36 hours of playtime by the end. Yeah, in that week, I did not do much more than play ISAT.

And once i beat it, i beat it, again. I restarted the game to see the few scenes I missed, most specifically the secret boss I won't talk about here. I... couldn't let go of the game yet. I wanted to see every scrap I could. I still do. I'm writing this, in part because I still do. It's scary to let go.

Ever heard the joke term of "Postgame Depression?" It's when you just beat a game, and you're suddenly sad. Maybe because the ending affected you emotionally and you need to process the feelings it invoked, or you search for something that can now fill your time with it gone.

The game ends, for real this time, the last time you talk to the Head Housemaiden. But Siffrin gets... scared. What if everything loops back again? And so, his family offers to hold his hand. They face the end, together.

For all loops, including the ending, you never see what happens after. After they leave the loop for good. Because the loop is the game itself. It's asking you to trust that life goes on for these characters, and it holds your hand as it asks you to let go. There's a reason for Siffrin's theater metaphors. He is the actor, and the director, asking everyone to do it over one more time. He's a character within the game, and its player.

There's a reason I talked about endgame content. This, the way it all repeats, there's nothing new, difficulty and stakes bleed away as you snap the game over your knee - it's my copy of White 2 with two hundred hours in it. It's me playing Fire Emblem Awakening in under 3 hours while skipping every cutscene. Are you playing for the sake of play, for the sake of indulging in your memories, because you're afraid of the hole it'll leave when you stop?

Of note: the narrative never condemns Siffrin for unwittingly causing their own suffering. He's a victim of circumstance. It's seen as endearing, even, that Siffrin loves their friends to the point of rather seeing the world destroyed than them gone. But Siffrin is also told: we'll stay with you for now, but we'll part ways eventually. And one day, you'll have to be okay with it.

Stop draining the things you love of every ounce of enjoyment just because you're afraid of what happens next. I'm not saying to never play your favorite games again. Playing ISAT a second time, I still had a lot of fun! I saw so many new things I didn't before, and I enjoyed myself immensely, reading the same dialogue over and over. But... it makes me look at other games I love and still play, and makes me ask... is this still fun? Do I still need to play this game to enjoy it? Even writing this is an afterimage of my enjoyment, but it's a new way to interact with the game, to analyze it through this lens. Fuck, man, I write fanfiction. Look at me.

All of this, fanart, fanfic, analysis, is a way to prolong that enjoyment without making yourself suffer for it. Without just going through the motions of enjoyment without actually experiencing any. But one day, the thing you love won't be fun to talk and write and draw about. And it's okay. You'll have new things to love. I promise.

In the end.... I'm certain I'll replay ISAT one day. Between great writing, art, puzzles and unresolved mysteries, it's my shoe-in for game of the year.

But I won't replay it for quite some time. I've had enough, for now, so I let my love take other forms.

Siffrin is never condemned, because love is no evil. Be it love for another person, or for a game. And please, if you're overempathetic - it's still a game, at the end of the day. The great thing about games is that you can always boot them up again, no matter how long its been.

A circle within a circle indeed.

To summarize:

The repetitiveness of ISAT's combat, lack of new enemies, and Siffrin's ever increasing strength eventually allows you to snap the combat over your knee, rendering it irrelevant and boring. Though this may seem counterproductive at first, it perfectly mirrors how Siffrin has also grown bored with these repeated encounters and views them only as an obstacle to get past. The reflection of Siffrin's own tiredness with the player's annoyance increases the compassion the player has for Siffrin as a character.

Additionally, the endgame state of the combat system serves as commentary on the state of a favorite game played too often, much like how Siffrin has unwittingly trapped themself in the loop. Despite the game having no more challenge or content left to over, a player might return to their favorite game anyway, solely to try and recreate the early experience of actually having fun with it. This ties into ISAT's metanarrative about the fear of change and refusal to let go of comfort even when the object (here, your favorite video game) offering that comfort has become utterly bereft of any substance to actually engage with. Playing for the sake of playing, with no actual investment to keep going besides your own memories.

Later on, stripping away even the pretense of strategy for a "press button and wait" format of final bosses highlights the lack of options at Siffrin's disposal and truly forces the player into their shoes. Truly, the only way to win is to stop playing.

[insufferablelust]

The Prince Regent (Aemond Targaryen x F!Sister!Reader)

{Can be read as the sequel of Gevī}

There are rumors floating around after the march of the greens in Rook’s rest, you were shocked when you learned of what has happened, rushed to confront your brother— you were made to once again quell the madness within with rekindling the fire with him.

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Words counted: 10.4k+

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy breeding kink, Slight exhibitionism (Sex at the council chamber), Choking, Rough sex, Dumbification, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of violence, Canon injuries and death, Mention of usurping the throne (half-canon), LOTS of pet names, Slightly Dark!Aemond (He is so obsessive and possessive and feral of you.)

Note: Hello! I am back with new fic yay! this is another Aemond fic, which can be read as the follow up of my last fic, Gevī which can be found here, or you can also read it as a standalone, up to you! This work is NOT beta’d (there will be revision) since once more I am still slammed with work so I have yet the time to refer to my beta reader, but hopefully there is nothing much amiss, if there is, I apologize and I hope it will not disturb your reading experience. ALSO AEMOND IS UNHINGED IN THIS ONE YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Remember that english is not my native language so bear with me. My request is always open for HOTD characters. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

The day has been moving rather slowly today, you mused, the sun looks as though it is shining but overshadowed by gloomy clouds at the same time— horizon darkens as the end of the day is fast approaching. It has been a strange day, oddly quiet even in the hustle and bustle of a dreaded war-coming, you had heard of your brothers whereabouts, both the King and the Prince as your mother was panicking earlier when they both were absent from the small council meeting.

You ignored the ever so loud chattering of the lords and ladies around the hall, as you sat below the Weirwood tree to read your book, the only place where you ought to sought comfort and refuge from the looming darkness that follows ahead, you had always been more receptive— taking in your surroundings and only use your sharp wit when necessary, you are like your brother, Aemond, in that sense, where you do not find pleasure in talking much if it does not have any meaning to it.

Though, you had not been silent since the days following Aegon’s crowning, your expertise in knowing Westerosi territories and politics are often seen be used by the small council as Aemond would come to you in any instance he needed help. You also always tried to interpret Helaena’s cryptic messages— having realized of your older sister’s ancient-like gift since you were little, it was you that had warned them to move the crowning ceremony anywhere but the Dragonpit when she had said “Beware of the beast beneath the boards.” Yet when they do not paid attention to you nor your sister, tis’ true that your family was one second away from being engulfed in Meleys’s fire if not for the Princess Rhaenys’s last minute compassion.

But alas, you had not been of useful as of late, ever since the passing of your nephew, Jaehaerys, you scolded yourself often on why you were not with Helaena that night, or why you did not have the time to interpret what she had said about the rats, though, Aemond had repeatedly assured you that there was no way that one can know such cruel thing would happen, and that there was nothing you could have done— moreover if you had stayed with Helaena that night, all your lives might be even more in danger due to the fact that you’re a young maiden.

You still feel guilty though, for you had been spending your night in the arms of your husband that night— comforting each other in warm embraces inside your chambers.

You and Aemond had always been inseparable since the day you were born, his little sister— someone he had always come to whenever he was faced with a hard time finding solace due to the constant torment and taunts your eldest brother and nephews has caused upon him. You can scarcely remember the times where Aemond is happy in his childhood, but the memories that stood the tallest in your memory are ones akin to when he would read to you about the Aegon’s conquest or Rhaenys’s journey to Sunspear, or Visenya’s tales with Vhagar.

Another one is when he had ventured through Maegor tunnels to get to your room and would ask timidly to sleep in your room because he was plagued by nightmares, or that time when he had come to your defense as Aegon broke one of your crystal jar, one that housed the famed rose from the North, or that time after he claimed Vhagar, eye sewn shut in Driftmark, you had visited him in his chambers despite your mother’s warning to let him rest when you know better that he would feel better accompanied by you. Tis’ unbreakable this bond of yours, strongly linked, and undoubtedly passionate.

Aemond finds all the thing he is not, in you, you are gentle, soft spoken, soothing in nature— even as your hair is as silver pale as he, your jaws are as sharp he, your wit are as bright as he— Aemond adored the part that truly empowers you, your compassionate self, your jaw-dropping smile, your unmasked confidence, your unapologetic self is what makes him honored to have you by his side.

Your presence calms his raging stormy minds and hot tempered self, your sweet saccharine voice, your angel like touches, your supple smooth skin— always seems to be flustered in heat when near him, your soft lilac eyes that gives him assurances, your slightly curlier locks— something you get from your mother, always half braided with half fanned to your side— the necklace you wore, given by him, a Valyrian ruby that always adorned your enthralling being, you are the epitome of a Valyrian goddess, graced with the beauty that people would go to war for, solicited by your intelligence that makes you powerful altogether. The word ‘infatuated’ does not even cover his love for you.

Speaking of your brother, the days following his return from Storms end had caused many distraught upon learning of what befell your nephew, in the flurry of it all, Aemond had taken your maidenhead, which he swore to wed you then— and that he did, asked his mother to betroth him to you once and for all as you had always meant to be— insisting after the death of Jaehaerys that it is crucial to have more heirs so that if the time comes, your bloodline will not perish so easily— Alicent, of course, had been furious at his son for, “How dare you corrupt your little sister!” but when you came to Aemond’s defense, she let her guard down and at last grant you both what you wished.

The deal with the Baratheons has been annulled… for now.

You both were wed in the sept just a few days after the tragedy, and were happily consummating your marriage if not for the news of Ser Cole and Gwayne Hightower’s success of house Darklyn in Duskendale, and is set to march to Rook’s rest once more, where Aemond is to to join him, he had told you once after an intense rounds of fucking.

You were finally pulled out of your reverie when the chatter around you gets louder, feeling irked by it you look up from you book only to have your frown wiped out by the sight in front of you. You saw few of Aegon’s knighted guards bringing a huge wooden box covered with your house’s sigil— Gods be good. You have thought of the worst then, what if it is Aemond? what if they are carrying his de—

“Princess, Her Grace the Queen Dowager has requested your presence in King Aegon’s chamber.”

Aegon?

“Thank you, Ser Harrold.” You replied, clutching the book tightly as you stand up, and walk towards where the other knights and seemingly hurdles of Maesters rushing to, your throat dried at the possibilities of what might await you once you reach Aegon’s chamber.

Is he alright?

Is Aemond alright?

Did they defeat the Blacks? What happened in Rook’s rest?

“Mother.” You muttered as you halt your steps upon reaching the now packed room, your eyes does not yet know where to land it’s sight on, the frantically moving figure of Maester Orwyle tending to a charred body on the bed, or the hisses that came from the servants who brought fresh linens, cloths, and water, or at your mother who stood with panic written all over her face, eyes glassy with tears.

“What has happened?” You asked, still unable to figure out exactly who is it that laid there, due to the hurdling of bodies taking pieces of armors off. The smell of burning and dragon fire is so evident, that the ladies around you scrunched their nose— you thought none of it considering you are no stranger to the smell of dragons— but what caught your line of sight next shocked and silenced you quickly.

There laid the King, your eldest brother, Aegon, with half of his face badly charred, his body littered in wounds from fire— the sight of him like that makes you choke and sob as you lean against Alicent who also watches with terrified eyes, “Is my son going to die, Maester?” Her shaky voice only enhanced the amount of tears you let out, lips trembling in confused emotions.

How did— who did— why did—

“I will do whatever I can to help him, your grace, but now I must get back because this is the most important step.” Came Orwyle’s response. You may despise Aegon for his lack of respect towards anyone— women in particular, but he is still your brother, your king.

“Why isn’t Heleana here?” You asked, turning your head to look at your mother, “and… Aemond?” came the question that have plagued your mind since you were fetched by Ser Harrold earlier in the Godswood, is he alright? did he suffer the same fate? did the blacks charred him too? I can not live without him, he— I cannot—

“Come.” Your mother beckoned you out of the chamber to sit by the bench near the Weirwood tree you sat earlier, your eyes are frantic, trying desperately to understand what is going on, what happened, and most importantly if your brother— Aemond is alright, “I can not call for Helaena… she—“ Alicent’s voice came with a choked sob, it breaks your heart seeing her like this, after seeing what befell Aegon, you understood that this is hard for her regardless the way how anyone feels about him, your brother, her son.

“I can not put more burden on your grieving sister, you must understand that only you can do this.” Her irises stabs right through yours as you ponder her words, digesting on what she could mean by ‘do this’— you understood why Helaena wasn’t called first thing to Aegon’s chamber despite her being his Queen, his wife, the reigning monarch in his absence, due to her still sullen with grief, but then it all clicks for you.

Ah.

This is about Aemond, if Helaena is your mother’s pawn to strengthen Aegon’s claim, then anything linked to you have always been, will, and must be about Aemond.

Only you,

You’re the only one that can soothe Aemond, calm him, hear him, understand him, discipline him when needed, tame him when necessary.

Only you that can release the ever glooming glorious tension that has risen and finally reached its peak between the heirs— one who was born first as a male heir, and the other one who is actually deserving of it by power and knowledge.

It’s you, his soulmate, his other half— it has only been you and everyone knows it, even your sister whom have said you are meant to fill the socket of the eye that Aemond has lost, you’re the missing piece in his tormented soul, the very needle that threads his wound, heal his anger, and cool down his temper.

But before you can open your mouth to respond, the sound of clanking armor once again reached the both of you and a voice boomed through the otherwise serene peace of the Godswood, “Pardon me, Your Grace, Your Highness, but the small council has gathered, and has asked for the presence of the Dowager Queen.” the Knight spoke, causing you to sigh and drown the words you had meant to speak of.

“Very well, I must return but please,” She looked at you feverishly, “My love, you need to talk to him, reason with him, because he will not do so with me.” Your heart once again breaks at that, yes you may have not had the fondest of love for your mother solely because she was too busy preparing Aegon, being queen in your father’s sickness, and feuding with your half-sister to care for you but alas, just like Aegon, she is of your blood, she is your mother— knowing she feels powerless to aid her own children, so much so, she asked for her youngest daughter’s help is a sorrowful thing to witness.

“I will, mother, now go.” You said, pulling your best smile to soothe her, the tresses of your silver locks blowing in the wind as she cup your face to kiss your forehead before fleeing to the small council chamber— leaving you with your thoughts once more, deserting you to quell over your confusion, with no comfort of assurance or security— you need Aemond, and he needs you, but how can you both reason with him when he is not within your reach, you just seek to know his safety and shield him, Helaena, and your niece of all this— but alas,

Did he do it?

Did he burn Aegon?

Is his desire for power so great that it quenches whatever left of affection you all had as siblings?

What will you do?

You love Aemond, you love him more than anything in the realm, your bond with him as strong as the bond you share with your dragon, Valyx, you do not and will never betray him— you had remembered his promise of making you his Queen, that the realm will bow to both of you, that his love for you is so great that it will be more than enough for him to fight and relinquish in victory— but at what cost? You had half the mind to seek Helaena, to ask for her guidance but that thought is quickly diminished by knowing the fragile state of your sister after Jaehaerys’s passing.

No, you will have to speak to Aemond, whatever result it may produce, whatever madness awaits you, whatever turn of story that may arise— you have to be ready for it, willing to face it, conquer it— for you do not wish for harm to ever come to those you love, to Helaena, your niece, your mother— and most importantly Aemond.

You just hope the Gods will grant you their blessings and forgiveness to what you will do or don’t do.

—

You had waited hours outside the small council chamber, pacing in front of the huge grant door, thinking and pondering on what you must say to Aemond, what you will do to reason with him. Your thoughts are plagued with the memories of your last encounter with Aemond, not that you can help it, it practical branded itself to you— He had always branded himself to your memory with everything he said and does.

It was the night after his small council meeting had gone awry, well according to his recollection— Aegon had once again undermined his knowledge and acted foolishly, not trusting his brother’s judgement, Aemond laid down on your lap, as you caresses his hair, his patch is off now that he is alone with you, in your chambers, with you only wearing your lilac shift and he, a tunic pants.

“Zȳhon mition yne amīvindis.” He had said that night as the flame dances through his iris and shappire— there is that unquenchable anger in him, you felt it miles away even before he laid on your bed, you knew that he was furious by the way he stormed to your room at the hour of the wolf, you had been sleeping when he entered, but quickly made way for him beside you. His stupidity infuriates me.

“Aegon?” You asked as your fingers cards through his hair in a soothing manner, you wish you can take away his pain, his worries, his fear— but Aemond is a hot tempered man, who will not be denied of his desires, who will not back down from a fight, who will never cower in silence, “Hm.” He hummed to you, “He is your king.” You humored him, passing a chuckle to the wind.

“Not for long.” Your fingers halted as he looked at you, trying to process what he just said, you knew your brother is hungry for power— for his throne, but it has always been a blur to you just how he was going to win— especially with Rhaenyra’s looming threat of war now, “Aemond…” You whispered, a distraught look is evident on your face, your rosy lips pout like it is begging for him to kiss you feverishly— to claim you once again.

“Do nor fret, sister,” He said, eyes sharp through yours while he bring his thumb up to your lip to press down on your ever so cute and tempting pout, what a tempting little tart, he thinks, “I do not wish to bring upon the ruin of the realm,” He pushes his thumb slightly in, you gladly open your lips to take the tip of his thumb inside and suckle on it as it is your lifeline. Your eyes closed for a second from a comforting gesture it brings you, he knows this calms you, content you— “Unlike Aegon.” He whispered the last part before completed parting your lips with his thumb so you can suck on it with little mewls of contentment.

He cooed at your subdued state, gods, he does not care of anything but to serve you— give you the realm as you fully deserve, his queen. Beautiful, untainted, pure, and the very image of both the Mother and Maiden bestowed upon a figure— you, you and your flustered self, you and your cherry lips, fluttering eyes, smooth silver locks, body of a goddess, a personality of Eve, charm of Rhaenys, dream of Daenys, fierce of Visenya, and soul that is unique to just you. He worships you more than you know, but he will show you— he will always show you.

“There you go, sweet girl.” His voice both soothe and heat up your core, and it catches you by no surprise when the night ended with you both tangling atop of the bed, with you on your hands and knees, his hand against the back of your neck— as he fucked your cunt with a varying pace of both a feral madman, and a devout husband— yours. You had been naught but a whimpering mess, a shaky shivering little girl overwhelmed with pleasure.

He had worshipped you then, kisses you softly on your skin as he brings you to your peak over and over and over again with his fingers, mouth, cock— every inch of him is solely to make you feel heavenly, so much so, that you are sure that your vision had gone blurry and you slumped onto the bed as he took care of you.

Your mind was quickly pulled once more from your thoughts when you heard the door of the small council chamber had finally been opened, you stood diligently to the side, waiting for your husband so that you may speak to him. You watched the lords move outside one by one, bowing to you when they catch you, which you had curtly but politely nod, until Lord Larys Strong came to your line of sight.

“Princess, how nice it is to see you.” Now you have never hold much disdain towards those who does not deserve it, and though Larys had never done anything to you personally, you are but know how much a rat he truly is. Indeed, he is an intelligent cunning man, known for his whisperings and cruel deeds that, even you, do not wish to know—but for the sake of the crown, you begrudgingly smiled, “Likewise, Lord Larys.” The fingers behind your back is picking at your cuticle in stress, Gods where is Aemond.

“The Prince Regent will certainly be delighted with your presence, regency is not an ea—“

“Regent?” Your brow furrowed at the mention, head spinning and running by a thousand miles— “Aemond… regency?” You asked, desperately trying to figure out what in the Seven hells happened and what has been done by it, “Yes, your highness, he—“

“Larys, may I speak with my wife in private now?” His voice came from inside the room, and you can scarcely see his figure emerging from inside, he is wearing his usual black attire, adorned with a green coat as a sign that he had been riding Vhagar prior, your eyes slipped to see the now two dagger on his side, one each, and your lips twitch with shock as you spot Blackfyre on the scabbard, you can not mistaken it, for it is one of the only two mighty Valyrian sword left that belongs to your family. Aemond had watched you gawking at him with an aura of eerie calmness to him, the sight making your spine curled and skin shivering.

This is all for you, sister, all I do is for you, he wants to say.

Your stare fled from his dagger up to his calm form, the way he holds so much power even when he is just standing there, with his arms behind his back, legs parted, head tilted, and lips pressed into a thin line—your violet eyes went up up up until his own gleams into yours, heating what feels like a suffocating heat around you. You continued staring into his eyes as your heart thundered inside your chest, you do not even notice that Larys had said his farewell and had left you both alone, at the entry of the council chamber— or at least you thought you were alone, before your mother’s voice spoke from behind the door— caught your peripheral vision.

“What are you doing here so late, sweet girl? have you had supper yet?” She asked, hands coming up to cupped your cheek in her otherwise cold hand, she’d been furious, you mused, eyes fleeting to the red marks on your mother’s finger, it seems that old habits die hard, “I wish to speak to Aemond, mother.” You bit the inside of your cheek at the way you almost whimpered his name— yes you are confused and possibly angry at him right at this very moment but he is your husband, the love of your life, your other half— you are also drowned by worries and fears of his safety, especially after seeing the state Aegon is in.

“I need to know he is well.” and safe and I just want to run away with him where no one can find us, I wish this madness can stop and be in peace with him— but you do not say that, no, you just smiled softly at your mother upon hearing Aemond hummed at you intriguingly, almost like he is both amused and mocking your sense of worry.

He knows that you know he did what he did.

Good, he thinks, let you see that he would burn the realm down for you, he would sooner die than to give you any less than what his wife, his precious sweet sister deserves.

“Very well then, I shall check on how Helaena is doing.” You do not miss the way Aemond’s lips twitches at the mention of either your sister or your eldest brother, his stoic self is evermore transparent yet foggy all the same for you to read, “Tell her we send our well wishes…” It’s his turn to speak now, eyes never leaving your figure with his voice ever so so alluringly gentle, “and to Aegon’s recovery, of course.”

Your spine curled at that, the invisible hair on your skin risen at the chill and smugness of his voice— Gods, Aemond… what have you done.. that’s all you can think but moreover, what will I do with you.

Your mother left you both at that, yet you can’t find it in you to move or speak to him, the slit on your dress passes the breeze seeping through your skin, the neckline that came above your breasts seems so tight now as you take desperate breaths to calm yourself down— you both just stared at each other, his, with longing, love, affection, you you you.

Yours are filled with the same longing, same love, same subject of desire yet there is a glint of confusion, uncertainty, and doubt swimming in your eyes— not to spite him or put distrust in him, he knows that, he knows you best— He knows you are just confused, a darling little pet you are, even when thrusted with so many responsibilities at the time of war, you still have that innocent childlike self in you that cowers in his gaze, that is desperate to seek good in the midst of destruction, that is curious, always seeking his approval, his assurances. It warmed him, for he knows that, only he, can assuage that building turmoil inside of you, only he can ease your pain, assure your worry.

“Come.” He said, Aemond beckoned you inside the council chamber with two flicks of his fingers, you followed suit, hands cold in front of you— blood of the dragon yet cold hands, he always muses to you often time he warmed you up, ah you do always love his warmth, engulfing you with security and love, comforting you the only way Aemond can, you longed for that, and you know he longs for it too.

“Aemond..” Your lips trailed as the door closes behind you, there Aemond stopped in his tracks, leaning against the table with his hand perched back against it, lips turned in an amused smirk with his head tilted.

Fuck fuck fuck, you need to focus.

“Aemond…” You said once more, walking closer to him but stopping just few feet away, keeping a respectful distance— not that it mattered much, if he wanted to— and he does— he could have you so easily, manhandles you right here right now, bending you over the very table he now commands and pound you to oblivion, releasing his pent up rage and frustration in that sweet sweet cunt of yours, “Hm?” Aemond merely hummed at you even when his mind conjured up the most obscene things, he has to have you, he needs— “Speak, little one, I am listening.” He grinned with mockery, which made you huff and stomp your feet like you used to do when you were a little girl, yet he finds you so sweet as you do it, only making his heart soar with love and desire for you.

What are you doing to him, little girl?

“What has happened?” What he would do to wipe that pout from your face, why are you testing him so far today, his little nymph, “It was a successful operation at Rook’s rest.” He replied calmly, making your blood boil as you scoffed and shake your head disdainfully at his remark, “It was foolish, reckless even—“

“Did we not took out the largest looming threat?” He pressed on, edging you to be angry with him, “It was a worthy effort, a worthy price.” His eyes twinkle when he see your heating face— such an angry little dove, you are, what a temperament that has long been subdued by your years of princesses duties, causing you to retract back to a shell— though he knows better, that you and him share the blood of dragon and fire in you.

Let it burn, sweet sister, let it burn and we shall emerge from the ashes.

“A worthy effort? your king is at the teetering edge of death.” You bit your lip to suppress your anger, let it simmer but do not let it boil to overheat, “What of Helaena, Aemond? she has just lost her son, and now you’ll take away her husband too?” You tried to reason with him, eyes fleeting from his yes to his puffing red lips back to his eyes.

Focus, fuck, why can’t you focus.

“What do you take me for, sister?” His tone is accusatory, eyes sharply glared at you, if he was annoyed before, he is furious now, “You accused me of treason, is that it? deem me a kinslayer?” You tap your feet below you, a sign that you’re either nervous or irritated— maybe both at this point.

“You said it, not me, Aemond.” It was a pitiful attempt at trying to not think of him that way— even in your anger, you still want to find the good in him, but dearest sister, alas your soulmate is one paradox only you can understand, one cursed being you can love, a match to your own fixation, “Tell me you did not do it.” Your eyes held so much hope in them, pleading and begging for his assurances. He truly would do anything to destroy anyone that make you this worrisome, but if it is him, then he shall do what he always did, to declare his love for you, so immense that he can do naught, but serve the realm on a golden plateau for you.

He closes the gap between the two of you, standing tall over you, leaning his head forward to press his forehead against yours— breathing with rage with his warm palm coming up to cup your jaw, a possessive gesture, served only for you, there is so much passion between the two of you that your mind gets hazy and fuzzy with it, “Sweetling,” He breathes, once, twice, three times, “What have I told you over and over, hm? what did I promise to you?” His words thrum against your skin, with your bones stilling itself in the desire to melt into him— become one with him.

I will never leave you, dōnus ñuhys, you are destined to be my queen, for all the Seven, nor the Old Gods can never deny us.

“There will be nothing left for us if this madness do not cease, Aemond…” You whispered his name, eyes prickling with sharp heat beneath your eyelids— forcing you to close them shut even when you do not want to, “I am terrified.” You muttered it out of desperation and pure fear and that troubles Aemond, oh no no, his little girl, how has he been so blind to your cries.

He can feel his heart tugs with pain, his stubborn self is telling him to soothe you, calm you down, relieve you of your misery that is looming fear, oh little dragon— he hadn’t mean to scare you, only to show you his dedication, for who will he show it else to if not for the most important person of his life? he would not have find it in him to even claimed Vhagar, if it were not for you, you’re his source of life.

“Look at me.” That was not a request from him, but a demand, one you so eagerly followed, “You have me, what are you so terrified of when you have me?” He punctuates each of his words with pressing against you harder, your body jolted lightly as your rear hit the edge of the table after being spun by him.

“The war—“

“If we march together, our power will not easily be subdued— tis’ what needs to be done, and I will be ready to do it, risk my life so we will prevail. Would you not have done the same?”

“I would, you know I would.” Your eyes remained close throughout his declaration, eyes trying to frantically stop your tears but alas, it is a useless pursuit, tears flows down your cheeks at a faster rate than you’d like, at this Aemond cooed, wiping your tears, “You and I, we can have what is ours, sweetling, what has been ours since they took our eye.”

Our eye, he says, not mine— “You’re the missing eye that fills his socket.” Helaena once told you.

“What of Aegon?” You opened your eyes at him, holding his stare as best as you could even when he took a sharp breath and press his thumb on your pouty parted lips, “Aegon rushed to Rook’s Rest to proof his worth despite the better judgement offered by the council,” He paused, nose nudging into yours where you can feel every single allure that drips off your husband like its second skin, “He challenged Meleys, got overpowered, and I had to come in to save the armies… as I have intended to do before he so recklessly join in with Sunfyre.” His lips are touching his thumb now, the only thing shielding your petal bloomed parted lips with his.

You should be concerned by his statement, for you know Aegon would not ended the way he is now if Aemond had actually meant to ‘save him’, there is something else, you know he would not kill out of spite even with the years of insults and torments that Aegon himself, had bestowed upon your brother, he would not deliberately kill him, yet the intention to hurt is not lost on you.

Meleys is a strong dragon of your house, a battle trained one at that, but still not enough against the mighty Vhagar, that fought alongside Visenya on Dornish war and conquer it, let alone two dragons— but perhaps, you have naught but pressing longing now, your impulses seems to control you— your innate desires taking over and you can only do what your heart and body wants, never mind what your mind says, it matters not, you’re his, he’s yours.

You leaned impossibly closer to him, urging him to take away his thumb against your lips by tugging on his wrist as your glistening eyes look up at him with desperation in them, his humming is slightly cold, but you know better that its full of mirth— he is teasing you.

“I suppose now that I am in charge…” He tilted his head menacingly, pressing his lips upon the gap of your brow, hold you tight to him as he took in your rose oil scented skin, how heavenly, he thinks, “You ought to call me, your grace, isn’t that true, princess?” His thumb slipped inside your rosy lips then, the force is too heavy to bear as you sigh and suckle on the tip of his lips— eyes fluttered shut, “Uh huh.” Your lips parted from his thumb with a lewd pop!

“Your grace.”

Your eyes flit open, droopy with want, heat on the apex of your thigh is ever so persistent against the now soaked fabric of your silk smallclothes, Aemond eyes are sharp— ravenous as he stared at you, “Syz riña.” He purred. Good girl.

Having no more self control over him, Aemond use his free hand to hold the side of your neck— lightly pressing on the pulse point, enough to make your head dizzy, and presses his lips on yours with so much want, need, pressure of claim-claim-claim and mine-mine-mine.

If there is one thing about Aemond is that he’d never be denied, not when he was destined to claim the greatest dragon in the realm, not when he is supposed to sit on the Iron throne, and certainly not when he’s going to have you— no, you’re his, since you were bare as a babe, to now, his beautiful sweet girl of a wife.

Fuck, he’s achingly hard just at the feeling of your lips, body heat, and thought of your sweet flushed face. Gods be damned.

You gasped at the feeling of his teeth grazing your bottom lip, asking— no, demanding you to part your lips by biting at it— not too hard, yet enough to make you squirm on the ledge of the table, as your pretty pink raw lips parted in obedience, he wasted no time to push his tongue inside passionately— exploring your oh so delectable wet cavern like a madman, whilst you mewl with the lightheaded feeling of his grasp on your throat and his tongue battling, or more like conquering yours.

Your body is now dangerous low to the tabletop behind you as your nails fisting weakly at his leather tunic, a silent plea for him to give you time to breathe, its pure instinct he knows, but how can he deprive himself of you. Your melodic whines, the way your pink lips parted and indulge him so so sinfully, the way your chest heave with each gulping breath you try to take, and the way you clench your thigh, oh yes he knows all about it, little girl.

After you slap at his chest for a few times, Aemond finally relent, parting his lips from your now cherry bitten lips— you take big gulps of breath, gasping for what seems to be minutes after he released you, your head spins and you’re sure your knee would not been able to hold your figure even against the table if not for his strong grip on both your neck and waist.

“Come back to me.” He whispered, temple pressed against yours as you let out soft whimpers at the heightened pleasure of fuzziness in your head— just him him him, just Aemond Aemond Aemond, “I— please.” You can do naught but to plead with him, eyes watery as you stared at him—lips trembling, wanting to say so much more, please claim me, fuck me senseless, please make me forget that this realm exist, make me only yours, make me your queen just as you promised— but he knows, Gods he knows you, he knows what you want, he always does.

“Please what, sweetling?” But does it thrill him to no end seeing you so desperate, so needy for his touch that you’d beg and beg—Seven hells, not only is his heart thundered against his ribcage, but his cock is painfully aching at your dewey flushed face, “Use your words, zaldrītsos.” His words might be encouraging, yet his tone is anything but— its mockery, he is taunting you and it makes you drip down your legs. Little dragon.

“Touch me… please.”

You gathered all the voice you have left, even if it is just a mere whisper that sounded more like a meek mewl, “I am touching you.” He said, his fingers trails up and down the sleeve of your gown, making you shudder with want— tiny wantons of needy whines escaped you as his fingers trail upon the material of your silk covered breasts— nipples pert with peaking desires.

“Not— you know where I want your touch…” The frustration embedded within you forced this snappy remark of yours, one he clicked his tongue at, just like he always did when you were little— when you had eaten all your lemon cakes in a single sitting, when you would hide beneath the grassy slope atop of Rhaenys’s hill, when you would constantly fuss to keep his wound clean, so much so that you had stayed whenever the maester came in to change his dressings albeit the warning from your mother. It’s the click of the tongue that signifies not only to remind you of disobedience, but it holds a stronger purpose to know that he so affectionately loves and ardor whatever it is you do, even when you are being a fussy bratty little thing that you are.

“Being an impudent girl for me will not serve you well, I had thought you know this by now.” He shakes his head at you, fingers trailing backwards to slowly unlace the neat tying of your ladies’s work on the bodice of your gown— all the while brushing your half braided silver locks to the side and lean forward to nip at your neck causing you to gasp.

Oh he wishes to bend you to him, but moreover to protect you, all the same, as he did when he would wipe the lemon frosting from your lips, or give you his last candied sweets, or grip your wrist to lead you back to Maegor’s tunnels to not incurs the wrath of your mother, or clasp a hand to your lips to keep you from squeaking as to not alert Aegon of where your whereabouts— it is all meant as a testament of his often unspoken devotion to you, and you know it.

“Aemond—“ You are unable to mutter anything let alone an apology as you feel your gown slides off from your body down as it pooled on the ledge of the table— only held by how your body is pressed against the stone table, now only clad in your thin silk shift and smallclothes, you felt so exposed, your neck snapped sideways as you looked at the door behind you, it dawns in on you that you are in fact in a room where someone could just walk in, and found you both in the state of lewdness, “Aemond, not here.”

“I am the Prince regent, I shall do what I please, where I wish.” Came his reply, you can do naught but shudder at the deep rumble that is his voice, at your small gasp, Aemond continued to press soft almost gentle feather kisses on the exposed skin of your pulse point, down your jugular, to the base of your neck, behind your ear—“Ah!” You can feel him chuckling at your voiced pleasure, he knows you like the back of his hand, which spot makes you tick and jolt— you arch your back when he suck and nip at the sensitive skin, ever so reactive to his touch, you are.

You always are, little dove, like you are made to respond to him— his voice, touch, kisses, pleasure, demands— each and every single one of his decrees.

Aemond palm comes up to cusp your flowery breasts next, fondling the soft skin with your buds firmly against the calloused skin of his palm. He then rolled the blossoming darkening buds of pleasure between his index and thumb, causing you to grip onto his biceps, “Mm Seven—.” You tried your best to remain sane but alas, you never were to begin with, nothing is ever normal nor sane but you could not care less, not when it is him.

He chuckled at your oversensitivity, mouth slide down from the crook of your neck to your stern collarbone, before reaching the valley of your breasts. He looked up at you menacingly as he takes one of your pert bud into his mouth to suckle on it as you yelp— hand clutching his doublet in desperation, you are sure by now that your smallclothes is not only drenched but soaked from the way your cunt pulse with each second going by.

“Doñus riñus.” He murmured as he littered marks all over your now flushed skin, moving to the other neglected nipple, applying the same treatment of pull-tug-suckle on the poor overstimulated bundle of nerves. Sweet girl.

Aemond released your now reddened bitten tender buds with a loud pop! causing blush to once more darken on your flushed skin, he smirks up at you then,“Lay down, ābrazȳrys.” wife. He lightly push you downward against the stone table, you shuddered lightly when your heated skin met the cold surface, your eyes are glistened— wide yet droopy with needy innocence as you stared up at him, eyeing him as he removes his breeches slowly.

“Aemond…” You whined and pressed your thighs together when he keeps on teasing you by undoing his laces way too fucking slow, he knows it will drive you mad especially since your drenched tight cunt is inviting him oh so warmly— fuck, he thinks, you looked like the Maiden and Mother has painted, created the perfect goddess of the realm, silver locks wildly splayed on the table, with your braids almost undone, and your body glistened with thin layer of sweat and some of his spit, skin flushed with his markings on you, “Fucking temptress little slut.” He groaned as he stared at you panting.

Your puffy cheeks are heated with lust and neediness, your eyes stared at him like you always did when you sought comfort or wisdom from him— the same way little you had looked up at him whenever you beg for his remaining sweet treats, or when that first time in your reading chambers, oh how you had asked him so so sweetly to touch you— open and take your maidenhead like a good obedient little girl you are, how your bitten raw lips is murmuring pleads to him as if he wouldn’t give you what you want— oh his poor little darling, always wanting more more more.

Then his gaze fall down the swell of your breasts, the way it rises up and down with each breath you take, inviting him to suck and nip at the tender buds once more, and when he dropped his sight to your fluttering folds— he bit his lip, hard, for the view is both the most sinful obscene yet heavenly thing he could ever have witnessed in his lifetime, there you lay, ready for him, ripe for the taking, and the center of your pleasure is weeping for him to take care of you— to take you.

“Gevie.” He whispered as he drank his fill of you— you, the embodiment of a Princess, a Queen— all in name, nature, body, spirit, and soul, everyone should worship you, for he can swear to the Seven that you are holier than any deity common folk would pray to, you are not just the core of his being, but the essence of his vitality— his his his. Beautiful.

Aemond wastes no time to drop to fold your legs so he can enjoy his treat, he grunted before leaning down to kiss the inside of your mound— hand holding to your hips and one on your thighs to keep them there, his hold is stern enough to let you know that if you were to move them, oh little one, there will be consequences. You tried your best to keep them there as he press sweet lingering kisses all over the very surface of your folds, all wet and begging for him.

You gasped at the sudden sensation of his fingers parting your warm heat gently, making way for his tongue to spread the wetness from your opening up up up through the soft muscle then to your pearl, focusing on the now reddened and hardened nub with teasing licks and not yet a suckle on the oversensitive gem for he knows you would crumble and reach your peak oh so suddenly— no he wants to keep you on edge for a little longer, having you on that teetering insanity, controlling your pleasure as he pleases.

But when he does let up and suckle on the raw pulsing nub— you let out a sound akin to that of a scream, somewhere between a loud needy whine and strained moan— causing him to grunt, sending vibrations through your core, you jolted at the feeling, arching your back to pull away from him but causing a grinding effect instead— you clasped a hand on your lips to stifle the wanton sounds you let out.

“Ah-ah, do not hide from me now, little one.” He rasps against your cunt, you had half the mind to be bratty and yank his hair for causing you to be so so messy, but you only bit your tongue to halt yourself from getting yet another bruises from the last time you were bent over his knee— which was not that long ago, having been ridiculed on yet another Aegon’s quest, combined with your snappy attitude had him seeing red.

“Enough.”

“No.” You raised your eyebrow at the fuming man standing tall over you, having you crane your neck just to look up at his sharp eye and the mean clench of his jaw, “Thread carefully, sister.” He warned you, tilting his head that should’ve been an indication for you to stop— but alas you wanted to push him, to see the limit that is Aemond Targaryen, if only there is one— you rolled your eyes then, biting the inside of your cheek in an act of defiance. Oh now you have done it, little girl.

You barely seen him coming for the next you knew, you yelped as he manhandled you over his knee on the bed, both of your wrists are behind you, tightly gripped by his much larger ones— “Let me go.” You whined, trying to tug free of his grip only for him to chuckle darkly, “You wanted to test me, push me, and now you shall see the consequence of your misbehavior.”

“Aemond—“

“Ah-ah, if you wanted me to treat you like a whore, all you gotta do is ask, darling.” You clenched at that, letting out a squeaky gasp at the way his voice resonates through the room, “Hm, lets see if we can put that mouth to a better use than running your tongue like a tart.” With that he pushed two of his free digit to the inside of your bitten lips— down down down until it rests against your throat.

You looked up at him with teary eyes, heated cheeks, and lips wide open with his fingers stuffed inside of you— both preventing you to speak and constrict your air intake, causing your head to get fuzzy— not dangerous just flying on that mind space of him him him, Aemond notices your now cloudy lilac orbs and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead— all the gentleness short lived, however, when he freed your wrist from his grip to press a loud impactful swat to your cheeks causing you to yelp against his fingers.

“Now lets see if your dumb little head can count for me.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you feel the stinging white noise of his slap against your folds— yelping as you feel your peak closing in, “I’m close— please please.” You writhed underneath him before he gently shushes you, taking one of his hand and intertwining it with yours, whilst he enters your wet warm opening with the other— a finger slides in, before a second joining the pleasurable stretch.

“Tight little thing, you are.” He shakes his head between your thighs but your ears are ringing too loudly to register anything right now, mind so so hazy with cunt so so overstimulated, meanwhile, Aemond continues his ministration on your pearl, suckling on the poor nub with vigorous attention, “Mmnh, I—“ You can feel the height of your pleasure come crashing down on you, stomach tightening with heat, too hard, too much, so quickly.

“Let go for me, sweetling.”

You obeyed at his command, as you always do, a good girl you are always do as he wishes— your peak was a long one with you letting out a silent scream followed by plethoras of his name and chanting ‘ah’s’ and ‘oh Gods!’ as he savor your release.

The man above you grinned as your body shake beneath him, having one of the hardest peak of your life, he pulled his fingers out of you with a satisfied smile— a proud one at that, having to see your essence coating not only the tabletop where all the lords that serve him now would sit to discuss the runs about the realm, about his reign but also covering his fingers. You’re a delectable delight, perfect molded whore, carefully shaped nymph for him. His.

Aemond stands up, intertwining both your fingers together to guide you to sit up— having been near insensate from your heightened senses, he had to support your spine as you shakily face him again— and his sight of you is one he can only describe of all Seven heavens in itself. You, a mess you are, silver hair mused and wild as if you had been on Valyx back, it cascades down the plane of your shoulder and back, your face is flustered, eyes droopy, unfocused, and lips, your lips pulled into a drunken kind of smile.

Oh, he has gotten you in a place where all you can do is take what he gives you. Fuck.

You, sweet pliant you, in the daze of your peak welcomes him gleefully when he presses a passionate kiss on your lips, feverishly moving your lips with his, you gasp as he bit your bottom lip, tongue entering to enter your wet cavern once more, before parting with a lewd pop! sound, “Syz riña.” good girl.

The gentleness of his actions are short lived though, Aemond smirks before you feel him manhandled you around, and bend you over the cold stone table, causing you to gasp in both surprise as well as feeling the chilling sensation on your tummy and up your overstimulated chest area, “Shh, no fussing.” He scolded you as if you’re a child, but his stern tone alone made your knee goes weaker.

You can hear the sound of his breeches being untied behind you, the sound alone has your neck craning to the side, your head pressed against the table and drags one of your leg upwards to graze against his legs, smiling to yourself in a post peak-haze state, “Hurry.”— that soft giggly voice of your demand surprises Aemond as he chuckled behind you, shaking his head at the gentle brattiness you let out.

“Aemond!” You yelped when you feel his hand coming down on your bottom, not once but three times in loud harsh succession— you lift your legs once more not out of teasing nature but to quell the pain and the oh so good feeling that comes from it, your cunt clenching around nothing as you arch, “Little girls who ran their mouth will not get anything but this, you hear me?” He said, palming your now reddened tender skin roughly, though the sensation makes you whimper.

“Of course you’d love that too, filthy girl.” He gives you no time to process his words before he tap the now hard leaking length against your opening, which makes you whine lewdly, he is pushing just slightly in, but not enough to even get half of his tip in, making you cry out in frustration, “Kostilus, lēkia.” Please, brother.

“Hm, I do love seeing you beg for it.” He hummed, pressing a kiss on the skin of your back, before breaching the tight opening of your cunt inch by inch, “Fuck, missed this tight cunt.” He grunts, feeling the way your walls sucking him in inside your warm heat.

The stretch caused you to wail and mewl “Tis too much—“ and, “too big!” if anything, the sound of your protests and the contradicting clench of your cunt around his cock is making him more feral— almost animalistic in how he thrusts harder inside you, before burying himself deep deep deep, head nudging the opening of your cervix with just the right amount of pain from the pleasure of being opened by his length, and pleasure from the way the curved tip hit your spongey spot with ease.

Aemond does not let you breathe much it seems, as he begin his fulfilling assault on your battered cunny, thrusting his length oh so deep before pulling, then slam it back in with vigorous pace, hitting all the right places even when his width alone made you shudder near your peak, “So good— oh!” You moaned, closing your eyes and arching your back, to which he responded with a hand yanking your silver locks tightly, the impossibly deep arch of your back has you both drunk on the feeling.

“Take it, take me.” He moaned in your ear, not once does he relent in his pace, always fucking into you harder, pounding you into oblivion, so much so that your cannot care anymore of who might heard what the of you are doing in the very same table he now commanded, he now holds the highest marble rank, the thought would exhilarate you further if you had not been so consumed by the way his cock reach your sweetest spot over and over again.

“Let them hear you, sweetling— fuck, let them know who you belong to, who is in fucking charge.” His words have double the meaning, that you can interpret perfectly, for he relinquish in the knowledge of claiming you, owning you, which you happily obliged, but he also needs to hear it from you that he has deserved this place, as the Prince Regent, that he has fully earned it, and shall lead the realm as his own.

“I belong to- Ah! you, My Prince…” Your voice is shaky in the wake of your nearing release, your velvety walls involuntarily clenched around him when his hips stuttered at the revelation that is you words, it seeped into his skin, thrumming along his veins— his grip on your hair and waist is tightening, for you are sure that your skin would be covered by his love marks by the morrow, but you did not care, let them see, let them know who rules the Seven Kingdoms, and who is steadfastly stood by his side, his Queen.

“Ao nykē perzōñi iksi, ābrazȳrys. Hen prānot hae mērȳ zālagon indīliks.” You and I are made of fire, wife. We have always been meant to burn together.

“Issa! zaldrīzo ānogar, Īlvon qumblī iāris.” Yes! blood of the dragon, ours runs thick. You replied in the midst of your clouded mind, his declaration has made you seen the stars that for a moment you thought you had been flying through the sky with Valyx, yet make no mistake, for his hips driving into you, and the way he snaked one of his arms down around you to rub at your pearl, instantly ground you back to earth, “Va sȳndroti vāedroma.” Joined as one. He whispered deeply, “Avy jorrālean, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

“Come for me.” He rasped deep in your ear, that was the last restraint you have on you, as the combination of the never ending pounding of his cock inside your now oversensitive cunt has you curling your toes, the feeling of his fingers rubbing quick circle over your now engorged reddened nub has tears running down your face so prettily, so messily, painting the perfect picture of a ruined slut just for him.

You came with sobs escaping your lips, the plethora of whimpers of his name heightened the pressure inside the now sex smelling room, the sound of steps are loud from the grounds outside the keep, so does the sound of the occasional knight’s armors clanking, but all of that escaped your mind— too dumb speared on his length to give a fuck, your eyes closed as his hips faltered, feeling him shake above you at the telltale sign of his own impending release, you smiled drunkenly at the knowledge of your effect on him, “Give it to me, please, fill me up,” You mewled softly, finding every bit of your strength left to urge him, “Give me a babe, Aemond— mmh! let me give you an heir.”

Aemond groaned loudly at your words, “Fuck— fucking shit.” You have no idea what you have said to him, sweet girl, you have no idea how the thought of him marking you, both bound by blood, vow, and his seed inside you, does to him. You have no idea how much he wishes to always keep you full of his come, so you may be swelled with babes, because then nobody would ever question his claim over you, nor claim over the true line of Targaryen blood that is deserving of the Iron Throne.

He thrusted inside you one more time before stilling himself deep— so fucking deep inside you with his tip nudging your womb, and releases his seed inside of you with words of lewd affirmations spilling out of his lips, “Good girl, gonna watch you swell with my babe.” and, “Take it, little one, I’m yours— fuck!”

Your neck craned to the side as warmth filled your insides, smiling and biting your lips at the overwhelming sensation of both searing pain as well as being completely full of him, claimed and mark by him, undoubtedly his, “Avy jorrāelan, valzȳrys.” I love you, husband. You muttered, his eye still closed and his lips peppering small kisses along the plane of your back and your spine.

After some moment of calming down basked in silence, with only each other’s deep breathing, and him humming high Valyrian to your ears, he then slipped out of you, before turning you around and carry you to the where the chair for the King, or in this instance, the Prince Regent is located.

He sat down on it, with you laying on top of his lap in a fetal position, the crown of your head is tucked safely under his chin whilst his palm caresses the skin across your back and arms softly, “I hope I was not too rough.” He murmured against your hair, kissing at the messy silver strands lovingly.

“You were…” You mumbled, looking at him mischievously, he raised an eyebrow at you- biting the inside of his cheek awaiting your response, “But I like it.” Came your reply, cheeks flushed once more at the way he muttered something akin to “Fucking hell” under his breath.

“Aemond—“

“I will never put you in danger.” He said, eyes boring into yours, full of hope, full of promises, “Do you trust me?” His voice came out with a hint of vulnerability to you, almost like he bares his neck for you to bite if you so please.

You frown at this, “Of course,” You put your palm on his jaw, “Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo, rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.” Vow spoken through time, of darkness and light. He smiled at your words, have long he had dreamed of binding your blood in the tradition of Old Valyria, he is perhaps the perfect devout son that worships the Seven, yet he is also very much connected to the blood of the dragon as you are with yours. Tis’ something he have vowed to do with you once the realm’s stability comes back.

“Do not be afraid.”

“With you? never again.”

It is true that you longed for nothing more than to be with him in a world of your own, in a world where there is no more bloodshed, in a realm where peace is known, no green— no black, just you and him— but you also know that it is wishful thinking, for you all have a part to play, you included, as Helaena has said before, if your part is to be the eye he had lost, if your part is to be his anchor, his devoted wife, his sweet sister, his lover, his destiny, then by his side is where you shall be.

For it is better to go to Seven hells and back with him, then to live in agony without him.

You’re bound by vow, by blood, by wounds, by heart, and most importantly by that invisible string of everlasting fire. You are meant to burn together.

[avocad1s]

Requests are open and the latest sparked some ideas so…

Imagine the reader not having specific favorites, but more groups favorites, like a reader that’s a big fan of the Knights of Favonious or The Akademiya

Note: KoF, Adepti, Akademiya, Fatui, and the Abyss mentioned with some small snippets from characters in those groups. But all of them have a small overview of how they view your favoritism over them.

The Knights Of Favonius are pretty humble unlike the other nations. Although they may be criticized by a certain tavern owner, even he won’t question your favor towards the Knights (openly). Having your favor feels like a blessing from the Anemo Archon, many of them even believe that handling the stormterror incident themselves made them win your favor.

Although he isn’t around currently, daddy I mean— Varka feels a sense of pride knowing he left the wellbeing in Mondstadt in good hands. He is looking forward to finally meeting you once he returns. Jean constantly overworks herself, but she’s knows that it’s worth it if she can keep your favor. Mondstadt might seem “inadequate” when compared to other nations when it comes to where you should stay but Jean will make sure you’re never uncomfortable.

When it comes to your comfort, Jean would turn to Diluc, he may not be apart of the Knights but he does own the Dawn Winery and everyone knows you’ll enjoy staying there. Outrider Amber will make it her responsibility to guide you to the heart of Mondstadt and back to Dawn Winery during your entire stay. She’ll teach you how to glide! Just be sure not to mention that to anyone else… some might be upset that she could’ve put you in danger.

Speaking of danger, Klee adores being able to play with you! She will take you fish blasting! Yes it can be a bit dangerous but it’s fun! However once someone realizes that Klee and Their Grace hasn’t been seen in a while, they begin to panic. Usually Albedo, Kaeya or Rosaria are the ones to find you first, then the fun is over. (Klee may or may not get solitary confinement 💀)

Kaeya is a smooth talker and very charismatic that it’s difficult to discern just how flustered he’ll get in your presence. He’ll use his good talking skills to get you to himself, usually inviting you out to Good Hunter or even for a drink (if you’re a drinker) but being in your presence and knowing that he is apart of the group you openly favor over anyone else in Teyvat makes him tremble. Although in front of you he’ll just give a simple smile and charm you with his flattery.

———

Oh the Adepti are so respectful towards you. I mean, they served directly under Rex Lapis for centuries. They do not allow mortals to disrespect Rex Lapis, I’d be surprised if they even let anyone have a thought that could be considered disrespectful towards you. They feel a sense of pride knowing that they are your favorite. However unlike the others, they aren’t too vocal about it.

Sharing tea with you is by far their favorite thing to do. Inviting you to Jueyun Karst to enjoy the finest of tea and meals while reminiscing about Liyue’s past is something they all always wanted. During the Archon war, while they all fought for Rex Lapis, everything was still in your name. So now that Teyvat is at peace, (for now) they just want to enjoy an eternity with you.

Xiao is usually the one who tries to stay away from you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be around, far from it, but in his mind he feels as if he’s only useful to you if you’re in danger. When you spend time with the adepti he is unsure if he should come. Would you even want him there? But the second he hears you call his name, he’ll appear no matter what. Prepared to face any danger you might be in… but there’s none. In fact it’s just you, Cloud Retainer, Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper, and Ganyu. Xiao would remove his mask and place down his polearm silently enjoying his time in your presence.

Xianyun who has just recently began visiting Liyue Harbor in her human form again is definitely most open when it comes to you. Spending all her mora to buy things she knows you’ll like (and getting scammed) and inviting you to join her and Shenhe for tea. If you’re not in the mood for tea? Why don’t the two of you dissect these new human inventions that managed to capture her interest. How exactly does this machine from Fontaine keep a kite floating?

———

The Akademiya values their wisdom over anything else, and now they have your favor? Well, they’re kinda smug about it, you know? Many of them already believed they were better than the other nations (cough, cough, the Grand Sage) and having you in their corner might just make them a bit more insufferable. Unless it’s after Nahida takes back the reign.

The Akademiya would prefer if you stayed in Sumeru. The second you’re ready to settle down, Kaveh will be the first to approach you, he would be honored to be the architect that builds your palace. Mora is no problem! (Because no one would dare charge mora for Their Grace) No matter, Kaveh is very good at what he does, do you have any preferences when it comes to the construction? Please tell him, he strives to make you happy and show off his skills to you.

The acting grand sage of the Akademiya, Alhaitham enjoys living a comfortable life and is not fond of being in the role of a leader. The second someone worthy comes around, he will resign as the acting grand sage and return to his previous position as the scribe who was never around during working hours. Despite his… unambitious tendencies (only doing what’s necessary), he’ll try when it comes to you. If there is something you desire or some type of knowledge you going through the Akademiya for, he’ll offer his help. Although he can be pretty nonchalant, he does enjoy being in your presence and if your favor towards the Akademiya began after he took on the role as acting grand sage, his ego may swell a bit.

———

As if the Fatui didn’t have enough power across Teyvat already and now you favor them. Her Majesty and the harbingers are extremely grateful of having your favor in their corner, but they are definitely going to exploit this. It’s so easy for them to obtain more and more power in the other nations with the simple use of your name.

However even thought the Fatui can all collectively agree that having your favorite benefits them all, they are still incredibly selfish with their own intentions. The second you enter the Zapolyarny Palace, the harbingers are quickly scheming on ways to get you to themselves.

Pantalone, by far the richest of all the harbingers, will always offer to take you shopping. You’re the Creator! You can have as much jewelry, clothing, and other accessories as you want. Just be sure to follow him before one of the others pull you away.

Arlecchino is fully aware just how… unsettling her true side might be to you. But worry not! If there is one person who can keep her sane, it’s you! Want to see a magic show? Or maybe even an opera? She’ll take you! Cracks of her true personality might show if the others try stealing you away though.

Capitano is truly a legend on the battlefield, no matter how the others feel about him. One thing none of them will never deny is his strength. He holds a sense of righteousness that some (one puppet in particular) criticize. But his righteousness shines through with you. If you show any interest in learning to fight, he would be honored to teach you. Or maybe you already have incredible abilities, you are the God of Gods, he would love to test his strength against yours. No matter who wins, he’s willing to go again and again… just don’t go to a certain ginger asking for a sparring match.

Pierro, the first to be betrayed by the Seven when they destroyed his home. Many would think he would hold some type of resentment towards you, but he doesn’t. He is the director of the harbingers and they listen to his orders (usually coming from the Tsaritsa) so when you visit Snezhnaya he is usually the one to assign one of the harbingers to look after you. However he’s not afraid to use his power so he can be the one to look after you. Much to the other’s dismay.

———

You favor… The Abyss? Sorry, I need to rub my eyes and read that again.

No one understands your favoritism towards the Abyss. “They hate humanity Your Grace… Perhaps you should stay away from them?” Is what you hear all the time. But no one can technically force you to stay away… not to mention no one really knows what the Abyss actually is.

Very few know of the leader of the Abyss, the Prince/Princess or rather the travelers sibling. They can’t see you as often as they’d like but on the rare occasions they can, they love speaking to you about their plan. Sometimes they’ll even ask you questions about the traveler, curious how their journey of meeting the Seven is going.

Although he is not apart of the Abyss, at least not anymore. Even Dainsleif wonders what about the Abyss is appealing to you. Even if you do not know it, he’ll be sure to keep an eye on you just in case anyone or anything tries to harm you.

Note: While I was writing this and reading about some of the harbingers personalities on the fandom wiki, I might have accidentally gave myself a crush on Capitano 💀 I just know he is fine under that mask.

© avocad1s 2024

[bratbby333]

I got some thoughts 👀 can I request a little something? like reader finds herself in a situation where a guy is disrespectful to her and Geto steps in to defend her... she would be so relieved like 'thank you so much tall and beautiful stranger' 😍🥰 and he's probably like 'don't worry about it, it's whatever' but in the end he offers to walk her home and he fucks her against the wall things happen 😳😳

`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ YOUR GUARDIAN STRANGER ! — feat. suguru geto

word count. 3.6k content warnings. characters are 21+, fem!reader x suguru, mentions of blood, allusions to violence, reader gets hit on and grabbed in the club, alcohol consumption, p in v, unprotected sex, use of pet names, dirty talk, thigh-riding, sugu fucks hard, one night stand, the pull-out method, non-curse!au author notes. thank you for ur ingenious request my sweet nonnie...i hope you enjoy xx not beta read !!

nsfw 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 mdni

A skin-tight dress. Four inch heels. Dark lip liner with a clear gloss on top. A few spritzes of Chanel No. 5, and you are out the door and heading to the club.

Everything is great; good vibes, strong drinks, pounding 808s reverberating off the walls. The liquor warms your stomach as your hips sway to the music, your over-worked body relaxing with every bump of the heavy bass. You take in the scene around you; drunk couples making out in the corner, a few underage kids getting thrown out, a group of friends arguing over god knows what– it’s all very entertaining. You laugh to yourself, your eyes scanning the room once more before your vision settles on the one thing you were trying to avoid. Shit. Your heart drops. Really? Did he not catch the hint the last two times? You sigh deeply, rolling your eyes as you prepare yourself for the inevitable. Not this again.

Because, of course, all good things must come to an end. 

You're used to being hit on. But tonight, there is one guy in particular, unrelenting in his attempts to get close to you. He's shorter than average, the two of you being the same height when you're in heels. He reeks of liquor, cigarettes, and BO. His fringe clings to his forehead as he approaches you for the third time this evening, a disgusting smirk plastered across his face. He seems to have mistaken your accidental eye contact as an invitation to test his luck once more. With tense shoulders and an apprehensive tone, you offer him polite conversation. Not that you want to, but god forbid you reject him in just the right way to make him snap. You don't want to end up being a headline. Your eyes dart elsewhere, knowing damn well that if you look at him for too long you might gag. He is truly disgusting, rambling on and on about his podcast and his most recent bouts of buying and trading crypto. 

It's a tough situation to navigate. You're out alone. Granted, you are at a club that you're comfortable in; you're familiar with the layout, you're friends with a few of the waitresses and bartenders. The DJ knows you by name. But, you're still riding solo in a loud, rambunctious environment. Even though there is a level of comfort here, it's still a club filled with drunkards at the end of the day. 

With a fake smile and a couple nods of your head, you try to ignore the part of the conversation where he referred to himself as an “alpha male” as you accept the drink he presents to you, kindly excusing yourself before disappearing into the crowd once more.

A shudder runs down your spine, your body quite literally trying to shake away that awful conversation. God, he’s the worst. On your way to the dance floor, you pour the contents of the cup into the soil of a potted plant. He doesn't think you're stupid, does he? There is no way in hell you're drinking that shit.

You're dancing alone, enjoying the house mix that's bumping through the giant speakers, the colorful spotlights that bounce around your face as you feel yourself begin to relax once more. Finally, some much needed alone time. All you want is to let loose after an arduous week of working. Can't a girl have some peace?

"C'mon...just give me a chance." You don't even have to turn around to see who it is, you can smell him. Your nose scrunches up before you turn to face him, another fake smile pulling at your cheeks as you speak to him for the fourth time tonight. 

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not looking for anythin'...I'm just tryna have fun," you say politely, before beginning to walk away. If you just keep moving through the crowd, he won't be able to find you again. But this guy is annoyingly determined and obnoxiously entitled, because after one step away from him, his hand grabs at your wrist, "We can have fun! C'mon...seriously?! I bought you a drink and this is how you treat me?"

As soon as the contact is made, your blood boils. Rage runs through your body as you spin around to chew him out for A, assuming some smelly asshole like him has a chance with you; B, for even thinking he could touch you, and C, the absolute nerve of this man to actually follow through with it. 

But when you turn, you realize you can't see him anymore. Your eye line is obstructed by a broad, muscular back. Utterly confused, you step to the side in order to fully see what the hell is going on. The sweaty hand that was once wrapped around your forearm is now gripped by a large fist. Your eyes trail up to your savior, a damningly handsome man with jet-black hair. 

"Do we have a problem?" a stern voice addresses the musty, shorter guy. 

"Yeah, this chick's been flirting with me all night...I'm tryna get what I'm owed," he spits back, attempting to pull his wrist away, "Dude, let go...stop bein' a cockblock." The mystery man's face twists at the other's bold choice in words. You're shocked that he doesn't feel intimidated at all. 

"What you're owed?" A deep chuckle emerges from the unknown’s chest as he stares down at him. "I dunno...it seems like she wants nothing to do with you," he muses, tightening his grip around the other’s arm. 

He turns to address you, and you finally get to take a good look at him. His side-profile is god-like, but looking at him straight on is a whole different realm of attractiveness. The man's fucking gorgeous. You're too busy ogling him that you miss his question all together. 

"S-sorry...what did you say?" You shake your head a bit, adrenaline pumping through your ears from this entire ordeal, the expensive scent of his cologne mixing with the pounding bass of the club; it's all making your head spin. 

He laughs and leans down to your level, his head hovering just next to your ear. "You want me to get rid of him for ya?" he repeats, his breath brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He pulls back, looking down at you with his grip still tight around the other guy's arm. The pathetic man is squirming as the two of you share quite the intimate eye contact. You nod, your mouth dropping open as he drags him out of the club immediately. 

You let out a deep sigh before making your way to the bathroom. You lather up your hands with soap and do your best to scrub away the feeling of that man's skin on yours. Leaning up against the sink, you take a few deep breaths before fixing your hair and reapplying your lipgloss. That man is vile, but you're not going to let that gross interaction ruin your night. 

You make your way to the bar, keeping your head on a swivel in hopes to see your handsome rescuer once more, wanting to thank him for handling that for you. You pout a bit as you fail to see him on your trek, sighing as you place your order with the bartender. 

You take a few sips before turning to walk back toward the dance floor, when you literally run straight into someone. "Fuck! I am so sorry, I-" but then you smell it, the same entrancing cologne as before. You look up and are met with a devious grin on the most angelic face you've ever seen. You smile, pushing your hair from your eyes, "I was looking for you." You sound relieved as the two of you stare at one another. 

"Were you now?" he asks coyly, shifting his weight as he smirks down at you. You nod shyly, "Mhm...I-I wanted to thank you for earlier," you take another sip of your cocktail, hoping it will calm your nerves a bit, "I appreciate you stepping in, that guy couldn't catcha fuckin' hint," you laugh, looking away. 

"Don't mention it. It's the least I could do," he responds. "I'm Suguru, by the way."

Turning to face him once more, you tell him your name with a kind smile. As the two of you make small talk, you notice his chest is heaving a bit, and with a quirk of your brow, you run your eyes down his body, realizing that his knuckles are bruised and slightly bloody.

"Oh...oh my god. Are you alright?" you ask, grabbing his hand. You bring his fist up to inspect it, the dim lights of the club not offering you much assistance. "Oh, yeah," he laughs, rotating his wrist so you can examine it further, "the blood's not mine," he grins. A laugh escapes you as you gaze up at him, still holding his hand in yours. 

"Damn...you really did a number on him, huh?" Suguru laughs at this.

"Absolutely, he deserved it. Dude was a prick. I'm really sorry that happened to you," he sympathizes, watching as you grab napkins and a shot of vodka from the bar to wipe off the dried blood from his knuckles. 

"It's alright, I'm used to it by now, but having someone step in and save me was definitely a first." He releases a jagged exhale as you pour the liquor over the small abrasions on his hand, "Sorry...gotta disinfect you. That dude was gross...I had to go scrub my arm off after he touched me," you giggle. He watches intently as you finish cleaning him up, his heart skipping a beat as you smile up at him triumphantly. You are quite the woman, cunning and confident. He likes that. 

"There ya go," you chirp, before tossing the reddened napkins into the garbage can located nearby. His eyes run across your face and up and down your body, taking in every part of you. Poor thing. Though you seem so unbothered by that whole situation, there is a telling look behind your eyes, and Suguru notes that you are still a little shaken up. He would be crazy to let you wander back out there alone. 

"Do you want to come hang with my friends? I promise they won't pester you like that dude did," he offers. He nods toward the booths that line the wall. "That's them over there; Shoko and Satoru." You follow his eye line, seeing a brunette woman accompanied by a blue-eyed man. They seem to be about your age, and you love meeting new people. You smile and agree, thanking him once more as the two of you make your way over to the table. 

The rest of your night is spent laughing and dancing with the three of them. You learn that they all work for the high school across town, and that Shoko can really handle her liquor; Satoru cannot. You and Suguru are in your own world, chatting about everything and nothing, taking breaks to dance together when a good song comes on. His hands rest on your waist as you move your hips against him, your bodies fitting like you are made for one another. Suguru, being the gentleman he is, never pushes any further than that, allowing you to initiate the contact. 

It's 2 AM when the four of you stumble out of the club, the tall blond leaning on his smaller friend's shoulders as she guides him toward the taxi. It's quite the amusing sight. 

You stop short of the curb, wishing Satoru and Shoko a good night, before turning to Suguru. "Thank you again…for everything," you say, your voice raspier than usual from all the shouting you did inside the loud club. 

"Of course. I'm just glad we got to spend some more time together," he says with a smile, ushering you toward the taxi. He's confused when you shake your head. 

"I live like three blocks from here, I'm just gonna walk," you state. "It was really nice meeting you, you were great company," you smirk, heading down the road, your heels clacking against the pavement with every step. 

A few unintelligible words are exchanged between Suguru and the taxi driver, followed by a car door slamming shut, before the sound of someone jogging catches up to you. 

"You're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you walk home alone," he retorts, pushing you toward the inside of the sidewalk as he walks closest to the cars that pass by. 

"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you," you tease, pushing your shoulder into his. He chuckles, "Can you blame me? I see a beautiful woman in distress, I have to jump in." You blush at his compliment.

"My knight in...," you pause as you run your eyes down his body, "...jeans and a black tee," you giggle. After sharing a few laughs, silence settles between the two of you as the cool air swirls around you. The occasional car passes by, but other than that, it's a quiet evening. 

You glance at Suguru through your peripherals, enjoying the way his layered hair bounces with every step he takes. His cologne, though more subtle now, still wafts toward your nose. He really is beautiful. You wonder if it'd be too bold to see if he wants to continue your evening. 

You walk toward the door to your apartment, turning to face him. It's now or never. 

"You comin'?" You ask with a raise of your brow. He chuckles as he climbs the stairs, joining you by your side, "Thought you'd never ask."

You have never been into one night stands, but something about Suguru is irresistible. Whether it's because he saved you from that creep or because he is super fucking sexy, you know you need him. Now. The two of you barely made it through the doorway as you’re pushing him up against the wall of your foyer, your lips immediately finding his.

He's taken aback by your boldness, taking a second to register his surroundings before quickly flipping the two of you around, his hands cupping either side of your face as his knee wedges between your legs. His muscular thigh is pressed directly onto your core, the pressure sending waves through your body.

“Couldn’t even make it to the bed, huh?” he husks into your ear, placing a wet kiss on the sensitive skin below, nipping and sucking at it. Soft moans echo through the hallway as Suguru finds your lips once more, your tongues battling one another. You thrust your hips, rubbing your warmth against his leg. “Eager, are we?” he teases, lifting his leg more. 

“Mmm…mhm,” you gasp as the contact intensifies. You’re already addicted to him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you. You grind your hips harder, pressing your drenched cunt firmly against his clothed thigh, certain that he can feel your pussy throbbing against him, the tightness in your stomach intensifying. Your cheeks fluster at how quickly he’s getting you to your breaking point without even having to do anything.

He breaks the kiss, watching intently as your hips gyrate against him. “Shit…are you gonna cum?” The tone of his voice is taunting, yet laced with desire. The sight of you using him to get off has him rock hard. You blush immediately, tilting your head away from him. You nod shyly, though your hips continue their pattern. “So fuckin’ hot,” his hand wraps around your throat, your head tilting to rest against the wall. “Uh uh, don’t get shy now…look at me.” Through low lids, you meet his gaze. His lower lip is between his teeth as he glances between your face and your cunt rubbing against his thigh. With a desperate whimper, you pick up the pace. “C’mon…that’s it–cum for me,” he growls, entranced by the fluid motion of your body. You come undone just a few minutes later with a whine and a few moans of his name. Your cum soaks through your panties and a guttural moan breaks through his chest as he watches you finish. “Fuckin’ drenchin’ me already, huh?” You blush profusely, your eyes screwed tight as embarrassment courses through you.

You yelp as he flips you around, your chest now pressed against the wall, your legs parallel with your shoulders. “All that cum ‘n I wasn’t even inside you yet…” He unbuckles his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing erection, “...can’t wait to see how much you cream on my cock.” You whimper at the filthy words that shamelessly fall from Suguru’s lips as he pulls your dress up and drags your panties down your legs. You aren’t much help, small pants leaving your chest as your body recovers from your unexpectedly intense orgasm.  His lips part as he teases his thick tip along your slit, lubing himself with your cum. “You ready, doll?” His head shallowly dips in and out of your needy cunt, already loving the way you stretch for him. You hum, nodding profusely as you look over your shoulder. “Mm. Mhm…p-please fuck me,” you beg. Your words feel foreign to you as you say them, unsure of where all this submissiveness was coming from. But Suguru’s effortlessly domineering aura makes you want to bend to his every whim, to please him in any way that you can. 

Inch by inch, he’s delving into you. The warmth of your dribbling cunt sucking him, the squelching sounds ricocheting through his head, the sinful moans that break through your throat–it drives him wild. He growls as your back arches, pushing him even deeper. Your ass flush against his lower abdomen, your eyes blowing wide at the damning stretch of his full length nestled deep inside you.

He stays still for a moment, allowing you time to accommodate as your gushy walls flutter around him. The pace starts slow, but Suguru’s patience wears thin, and after a few strokes he’s ramming into you, one hand wrapped around the front of your throat, the other pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he bounces you on his cock. The scratches that should be left on the tanned flesh of his toned back are being dragged down your beige walls, your breasts rubbing against the cold plaster with every rough thrust of his hips, the sensation stimulating your budding nipples. 

Every bump of his hips pushes his head into your sweet spot, his length caressing every part of you with ease. “Takin’ me so well,” he grunts as he rams into your furthest wall. You can’t suppress the cock-drunk whines that spill from you, your eyes welling with tears while delirious pleasure claws its way through your body, your tummy tightening as you clench around him. Your shoulders tense as your perch on your tiptoes, opening yourself up to take more of him–if that is even possible–praying he finds refuge within your womb. “Shit–” he hisses, his words nearly incoherent as the sound of skin against skin echoes through the hallway, “fuckin’ milkin’ me, doll.”

He releases your throat, the same hand trailing down your spine before his arm snakes around you, his nimble fingers strumming delicious circles against your throbbing clit. You cry out, eyes screwing shut as your legs shake. “Fuck…oh fuuuck–ahh! Gonna…’m gonna…” Your voice trails off, any semblance of a coherent thought cast to the wayside as a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. Suguru leans down, kissing behind your ear before biting at your lobe. “I know,” he muses, his fingers work even faster against you, “Squeezin’ me s’tight…”, his hips shifting to push himself even deeper, “...C’mon. Make a mess ‘f me.” You reach your breaking point once more, lips parting as squirt spills out around his cock and dribbles down your thighs. 

His release follows suit with a few raspy swears and sultry mumbles of your name. He pulls out, working his fist around his cock, his hot seed shooting onto your ass and lower back. Suguru places soft pecks along your neck and shoulders, working to regain his breath. He catches you as he untangles his body from yours, chuckling at the evident exhaustion of your body while your knees buckle, unable to support your own body weight as you lean against the wall. 

After tucking himself away and a speedy rebuckle of his belt, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style to your bed, setting you down on your plush duvet. 

“Bathroom?” he asks. Your brows furrow before you comprehend his question, still dazed from the spell he cast on you. With a weak flick of your wrist, you gesture toward the closed door to your left. You watch with tired eyes as he returns with a damp rag, his soft touches along your weary body juxtaposing the meanness of his strokes as he mindfully cleans you up. With a quick kiss on your cheek and a soft mumble of “you were wonderful” into your ear, he smiles down at you before beginning to exit the bedroom. It’s crazy–insane, even–how much you want him around. You must be out of your mind…this near stranger—the fact that you even let him in your house is wild, let alone asking him to stay the night? But you want him to, so bad. There’s just something about him.

You sit upright, ignoring the ache in your lower back and the morality of your choices, your question flying from your lips before your brain can stop it. “Wait…can you stay?” Your words are soft as they drift through the air. He stops just short of the door, before turning and offering you a knowing smile, “I thought you’d never ask.”

author notes. certified sugu glazer…what can i say. i just cannot get enough of him ugh.

i’m still workin thru all my requests, i appreciate yalls patience w me 🤍

my reqs are closed atm, but thirsts + chats are welcome! come say hello ☺️

tag list: @admirxation @sadmonke @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @call-memissbrightside (lmk if u want to be removed from tags🤍)

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[ki-yomii]

baby, don't go | myg

➥pairing | ex!min yoongi x f!reader, mentioned f!reader x omc ➥word count | 5.1k ➥warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, squirting, hand job, finger fucking, porn w/ plot, angst w/ a happy ending, alcohol, exes to lovers, implied cheating (omc is a fuckboy), implied getting back together (reader & yoongi still low key love each other), idol!yoongi ➥summary | "hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss" you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you. ➥notes | hope you enjoy this anon 😘💚 omc & ofc are named after characters from one of my favourite k-dramas (personal taste iykyk)

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Standing beside you, your friend Kae-In takes a swig of whatever's in her cup - a sickly sweet concoction of fruity soju and Chilsung, most likely - and coolly surveys the backyard.

Small groups of people dot the manicured lawn, others lounging by the fire as they catch up with one another. It's been far too long since everyone's schedules aligned like this.

Years in fact, and there are several who came in from out of town.

Ordinarily you'd be over the moon, but as it were you can barely drum up enough false excitement for your best friend. Let alone others you haven't seen in forever.

Cocking her hip, Kae-In puckers her mouth. "The alcohol isn't even that good." She sighs, pretty face scrunching in disappointment. "Some party this is turning out to be."

Your hard cider, still more than half-full, hides an awkward, ill-fitting smile.

Having nursed your own drink for the last hour, whatever might've been enjoyable about it is long gone. Any refreshing coolness and bright, punchy taste replaced by amber liquid far past room temperature in your clammy palm.

In fact, the fizzy warmth and tart aftertaste of moldering apples turns your stomach with every half-hearted sip.

"At least there's cute guys here - some of them have really grown up."

Her breath ruffles the fringe of her bangs when she huffs, casting an eye to the glass bottle strangled in your grip.

"Are you sure you don't want something a little stronger?"

You shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine - gotta be the DD just in case, y'know?"

"Girl, you're ALWAYS the DD. C'mon, you gotta live a little sometimes."

The nonchalant scolding stings, even if it's meant almost entirely in jest but it's not Kae-In's fault. She doesn't know. No one does. You couldn't muster up the courage to tell her the truth.

Not yet.

It's still too fresh. The wound too raw to go poking around with clumsy fingers.

"Don't be like that," you say with a faltering smile. "I'm having fun."

LIAR.

In actuality, you're a few frayed threads away from snapping. Stuck clinging to the edge of sanity by the fingernails as you battle back tides of crippling grief and blinding rage.

Have been since the first few messages came rolling in; questions with videos attached. There's a part of you grateful they reached out, while another altogether wishes you hadn't seen.

At least not until morning.

Would one more night spent in ignorant bliss have been too much to ask for?

Now you're riding a corkscrew of emotion, one that roils and chafes as ceaseless images parade past your eyelids with every blink. Each one as crisp and clear as the first time you pressed play.

The swirling lights, the heady thrum of bodies. A darkened corner. Your boyfriend of three years who said he couldn't make it. His hand sneaking beneath the hem of a cheap, glittery skirt. The dip of his head as he tucks into the curve of a neck, mouth open and smiling against bare skin.

You shudder, stomach rebelling. When you swallow, it's like trying to down buckets of sand.

Kae-In, none the wiser, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, that makes one of us. I guess." Shrugging, she turns to you and asks with a furrowed brow, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... a little off."

Panic grabs you by the throat.

This was supposed to be a night full of fun and laughter. You're not supposed to be suffocating in a crowded backyard. On the brink of tears and trying to act like your life hasn't imploded.

Alone - by your own doing, which is even worse - to deal with the crushing weight of an inevitable breakup. The painful extrication of two lives entwined.

How a relationship three years in the making can be shattered in a minute and forty-five seconds is mind boggling. You had it all, and now...

You thought you were going to marry him.

The whiplash of it all almost makes you laugh but only so you don't break down in great, heaving sobs. A heartbreak you're not sure you'll ever recover from. Not for the loss of him but rather the decimation of your trust.

"I'm okay, promise! No need to worry."

The lie weighs heavy on your tongue. Tastes of ash as the words you really want to say hover in the back of your throat, a breath away. Only they can't make it past your lips, stuck to your teeth like hard candy.

"It's just been one of those days."

Your shoulders shoot towards your ears when she hums in response. Fingernails picking at the corner of the sweating cider label so you don't have to meet Kae-In's piercing gaze. You know she can see right through you, and you hate it.

What started as a fun night of planned mayhem turned into desperate distractions though this party has done very little in terms of brightening your mood.

Instead, watching everyone you know have a good time while you stand on the side lines, a stranger in a sea of people, feels more akin to rubbing salt in an open wound.

Miserable but acting like you’re not; waves of bitter loneliness threatening to pull you under because you don’t want to ruin the night.

“Is this because Chang-ryul couldn’t make it?” Kae-In pats your back sympathetically. “What bullshit excuse did he give you this time? I swear, he always does this. Just wait. I’m gonna hit him next time I see him.”

Oh, you don’t even know, you think. You’ll definitely want to do more than hit him.

Your heart throbs at the sound of his name, and isn’t that funny? Such a simple thing - nothing but syllables and letters strung together - and yet it has the power to unmake you completely.

Your tongue swells as you struggle to swallow. Words burn like bile as you force out a laugh; brittle, scraped up from the depths of your chest

“I’d pay to see that,” you croak. Your knuckles ache from how tightly you’re gripping the bottle. “But - no. C-Chang-ryul has nothing to do with it.”

You hate that you stutter over his name.

And perhaps that’s why you don’t want to tell Kae-In just yet.

She’s always hated him.

Always said he was no good. Just another fuckboy looking for beds to warm and hearts to break. And she’s right.

God, why does she have to be right?

You know she’d never hold it over you, but the thought of admitting it - out loud - makes you want to vomit all over your shoes. You need time to stitch your edges back together. Too raw and ragged.

You only just found out.

Your pride can’t handle any more hits right now.

She thumbs her nose with an inelegant snort. “Whatever you say. I could take him in a fight. That boy ain’t shit.”

Your laugh startles you - the first genuine one of the evening - and you shake your head fondly. A soft smile tugs at your lips.

“Oh, no doubt. But really, I’ve just been in a weird mood.”

The twist of her lips shows she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but she’s kind enough not to press. Instead, she spends the next while distracting you with tales of her various escapades of the week.

And it helps for a time, truly.

But then you feel a buzz against your thigh, a ding echoing up from your pocket. Your stomach turns to lead, drops to your feet. Without looking at the screen, you pull the cell out of your pocket with shaky hands and quickly flick the ringer off.

Meanwhile, Kae-In watches silently with sharp eyes, and an even sharper frown though she declines to comment on your behavior.

“Anyway,” she continues once she has your attention, “as I was saying, did you see little Ji-Seok? Dude shot up like a tree! Last time I saw him he was as big as a bean sprout.”

You hum, worlds away.

“You could at least act like you’re paying attention,” she sucks her teeth before a smirk starts to slowly tug at her lips, “How about we talk about something - or someone - I know you’ll be interested in?”

Guilt sparks but slowly gives way to dread. You know that expression. Have gotten into trouble more times than you can count because of it.

Heart tattooing a rhythm against your rib cage, you sputter, “Oh no. No! Do not look at me like that.”

“C’mo-on!” she wheedles. “You’re absolutely right. We should be talking about,” she points at someone across the yard with her cup, “Yoongi instead.”

Currently leaning back against a stone wall making up part of the fence, Yoongi nurses a beer. Sticking out like a sore thumb now that he’s making it big as an idol, no longer as mundane as the rest of them.

Hushed whispers follow his every move, his bleached hair and flashy outfit commanding all sorts of covert attention.

The sharp cut of his shirt flatters his lean frame, the black leather jacket over top emphasizing the width of his shoulders. Dark jeans cling to his legs, as tight as a second skin, and causing your attention to stray where it shouldn’t.

And his eyes - oh, how you ever forgot is beyond you.

Dark, hooded, deep, and hungry; intense as they drag over the planes of your face like the caress of his fingers.

Shit.

You shove Kae-In’s hand down with a loud smack before she makes an even bigger fool out of you in front of another ex.

“What the hell are you doing?” You hiss. “That’s so rude!”

Not to mention embarrassing as fuck.

“Y’know,” she pauses to wiggle her brows and shoot you an impish grin, “I bet Yoongi would be more than happy to remind you of how rude he can be.”

You smother a groan in your hands, heartache temporarily forgotten. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. We’re no longer friends.”

“Bitch, you love me. And anyway, you know what I can’t believe?” She asks. “You!”

She gestures towards him again amid your flailing attempts to stop her. “Look at him. Like goddamn, you had it good.”

You take a sip of cider to give your hands something to do, nearly blanching at the warm liquid. Refusing to respond or look up as the topic of conversation watches like a hawk, gaze heavy.

How can he still make you weak-kneed after all this time?

He wasn’t even touching you and you still feel his presence down to your toes, setting your teeth on edge.

You hear your own heartbeat, your breathing shaky, sparks of awareness dancing along your spine. Heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.

“Knock it off, I’m serious.”

“No, when are you going to get that Chang-ryul isn’t good for you?”

You swallow roughly, all the moisture leaving your mouth.

“Yoongi was the best boyfriend you ever had and treated you the way you deserve. And you know he’s never been interested in anyone but you. Hell, he’s barely looked away from you since he got here and the break-up was years ago.”

You shift, perspiration breaking out on your brow. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“When will you give it up?” She blows a raspberry, shaking her head. “I know you regret how it went down between you guys. Now that he’s here - when you finally have a chance to make it right you just - just - ugh!”

Shooting her a weak half-smile and a shrug, you turn your attention to the small glowing fire pit.

Other’s are gathered around it, relishing in the glow of warmth that wars against the balmy summer breeze cutting through the air. Focusing on the dance and flicker of the flames is a needed moment of peace in entropy.

Though you know it isn’t going to last - not with a motormouth for a friend.

“So-o, what are you waiting for?”

“Sorry?”

She nods towards Yoongi subtly.

He’s finally busy with his own conversation, his gummy smile a quick flash of brightness. “When are you going to stick it to Chang-ryul and hop on that dick?”

“Oh my god!”

Kae-In shrugs. “What.”

“Don’t 'what' me. Seriously?”

A bony elbow digs between your ribs. You wheeze.

“C’mon,” she says, “You already know it’s good with him, and you deserve someone who’s there for you 110%. Someone who will treat you right. You know I worry about you.”

A wave of emotions threatens to completely drown you in that moment, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Her tender concern - her care - feels altogether too much and not enough.

As overwhelming as a tsunami; your heart a raw, exposed nerve.

All you’ve ever wanted was to be loved.

To feel like someone’s first and only choice.

You used to think Chang-ryul was someone who could provide that. What a fool you’ve been. Men like him don’t fall in love, they only pretend to.

They sneak inside your heart and take what they want from your bed. To him, you’re nothing but a fun little stop; a footnote, read and forgotten.

Your heart squeezes, shuddering from a pain your palm can’t soothe away.

It’s a terrible idea.

But maybe…

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lick your wounds with someone you know cares about you. Has always cared about you, and probably always will.

Clearing your throat, you consider his profile from beneath your lashes.

Yoongi's always made you feel wanted. Looked after you as though you were something rare and precious.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that.

Somehow, some way, he senses you looking because he pauses mid-sentence.

Turns to meet you head-on, tracing your face with what can only be called greed. Stopping short when they catch on the lip trapped between your teeth.

Something akin to hunger cuts across his face.

His brows dip low, a palpable heat flooding the inky depths of his eyes. Shadows deepen the lines of his face, the shifting firelight highlighting the flex of a jawline for days, burning halo gold in his hair.

It’s a look you’re intimately familiar with.

Usually preceding a hand-shaking, mind-numbing fuck session where his cock gets as deep as it can, rutting hard and fast, bringing you over the edge again and again until you’re left a wrecked mess. 

Your heart jumps, gallops headlong into a rapid beat.

You feel the rush of blood in your chest, every breath stuttered, stomach lurching. Shaking. Jittery. Tongue tied in a thousand knots and you haven’t even said a word.

It was much easier to pretend you weren’t so magnetically drawn to Yoongi when you weren’t riding the single’s train. When he was away in Seoul chasing after his dreams.

Now that he’s got downtime and your relationship has hit a brick wall? His mere presence sears you to the bone. Drags you in like a black hole.

And that?

So not good.

Swallowing roughly, you tear your attention away. You’d forgotten how intense and blindly bright he can be.

There’s a throb developing in your temple, sharp little darts of pain lancing through your skull. An impending headache if you don’t get some air that doesn’t taste like wood-smoke and cheap alcohol.

“I think I’m gonna head in for a bit. Need to get away.”

You shake your head and toss your bottle into the bin on the way inside, Kae-In shouting her acknowledgement with a thumbs up. Makes you promise to contact her in case of any change in plans.

Nearly everyone’s outside so it should be less crowded, more quiet. Most importantly, away from Yoongi and that penetrating stare which makes you more flustered than you care to admit.

Alas, the kitchen isn’t empty not for long.

You’re lounging against the counter, elbows bent, head rolled back and stinging eyes closed when the back door creaks open. Biting off a groan, you swivel your head to the side.

When you see it’s Yoongi who follows you in, you almost slip and brain yourself on the tile. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, heart beating out of control; scrambling into a more flattering posture while patting down your hair.

He chuckles, his nose scrunched and smile coy.

Seeing him happy always makes you tender, weak.

It seems that hasn’t changed a bit.

No amount of pictures or videos do it justice. Granted, Yoongi looks good any time, any day. But seeing his whole face light up like that in person? Utterly priceless.

It’s a struggle to breathe properly around the lump forming in your throat.

Of course, it has to be him.

Wiping your palms off on your thighs, you greet him with an awkward wave, “Uhhh, hey - hey there, Yoongi.”

Oh my god. Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.

“Y’know what,” you say, “I was just about to head back outside…”

As you pass by, he catches your arm.

Long fingers curl around your wrist, callouses dragging across your pulse. Your gut clenches, an unexpected bloom of warmth shooting through your core at the sight of his broad palm holding you captive.

His grip is firm but loose enough that you could pull away.

All it serves to do is remind you of nights spent beneath his body, the slide of sweat-slick skin, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, pussy filled to the brim with cock. His rough voice music to your ears, prideful as he gloats about how well you’re taking him.

"Leaving so soon?” He asks silkily.

A hard tug sends you slamming into the wall of his chest.

Air rushes from your lungs, your hands trapped against his collarbones. Firm muscles contract beneath your palms, his body shoving into your touch.

Twisting your fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt, you look at him from beneath your lashes. Your voice whisper soft when you say, “Yoongi…”

His dark eyes, the colour of a rich espresso, track the path of your tongue as you wet your lips. Fingers drag over the soft line of your neck, tracing your fluttering pulse.

Touch feather light as it stops by the corner of your mouth, pressing down on the swell of your lip.

“I haven’t said hello yet.”

Eyes wide, all you do is watch and wait with baited breath. Stunned into silence at his proximity. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close, the smell of his expensive cologne nostalgic.

Your body recognizes his, responding all the same. The connection between you electric, overwhelmingly so.

His head bows, bleached strands brushing your forehead. The tip of his nose rubs yours. You get lost in counting his eyelashes, tracing the bridge of his nose to the carved slope of his cheeks.

Surrounded by him, the urge to resist what’s happening is nearly non-existent. Though you wish it wasn’t so easy to be caught by him.

“One of the guys said something interesting,” he says, his breath ghosting across your face; mint and beer. “It's about you actually.”

He flashes the smile that sends your heart soaring, your stomach flipping.

The slightest peek of a metal chain resting in the crook of his neck, surrounded by a very tempting patch of skin you want to taste, has you a little dumbfounded, absentminded.

“Oh?”

You really hope you don’t sound as frazzled as you feel but the haughty superiority of his slow appraisal of your body, the cocksure smirk on his lips states otherwise.

You really wish you could knock him down a peg but confidence looks amazing on him.

Always has.

“They said you have a boyfriend now. Is that true?”

You manage the slightest shake of your head in the negative - no, not anymore - your heart thundering in your ears.

Your breath catches in anticipation just before Yoongi closes the remaining inches between you with a hum of approval.

His head tilts to the side as he slots your mouths together in a kiss that’s got your toes curling. A filthy wet slide of lips, his the slightest bit chapped, send you under, liquid warmth filling your belly.

You inhale sharply, a moan vibrating against his lips.

Melting into the cage of his arms as his hands clamp down on your hips possessively, tugging you closer. Pressed stem to stern like this there’s no hiding the evidence of his desire.

He’s already half-hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against the zipper.

His eyes are hooded when he pulls away.

“Wanna take this somewhere a little more private, baby?” Yoongi asks, running his nose up the length of your neck and inhaling.

How is this my life, you think, dazed.

His hips grind forward against you so there’s no mistaking what you’re dealing with. “It’ll be just like old times.”

After an awkward fumble and an elbow to the side, you settle on the downstairs bathroom. He follows, quickly pinning you to the door while struggling to toss his leather jacket over the sink.

With a flick of the lock, you’re finally alone without any possible interruption. The door muffles most of the ruckus outside, leaving you hyper aware of every hurried breath, every low-throated murmur.

For a long while it’s nothing but a mess of lips, his body molding to yours. Easy to fall back into the old rhythms of your relationship as though you never left it.

He holds you down.

His fingers in your hair, on your jaw. His tongue gliding over your lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it slide back out through his teeth.

You meet him kiss for kiss, your hands finding their way into his back pockets, tugging, groping, loving how he bucks up into the cradle of your hips in response.

A sweet ache settles low and deep.

“Yoongi,” you sigh. “Fuck, I forgot how much you like to tease.”

His thumb circles your nipple through your shirt, teasing it into a sensitive, stiff peak that shows through the thin fabric.

The caresses send soft pulses straight to your clit, the intensity getting stronger and stronger the rougher he is.

Before long, you’re aware of how achingly empty you are.

Yoongi nips the corner of your jaw.

“Never forgot how fun teasing you is,” he murmurs into the silk of your skin. “How wet you get for me.”

“Shit, you can’t just say something like that.”

“Can’t I?” His laugh, genuine and vibrant, sounds through his chest and into yours. “You can bitch all you want, but I know you love it.”

A smile, all teeth.

“Isn’t that right, baby?”

You glare at him weakly through half lidded eyes.

Two can play that game.

“Fuck!” Yoongi bites out, those impossibly dark eyes sliding shut when you reach down to palm him through his jeans.

His breath whooshes from him in a loud exhale, his jaw working back and forth. “That’s cheating.”

You smirk, feeling him throb in your hand.

”What were you saying, Yoongs?” Humming, you rub your chest against his, using a fingertip to trace the outline of his shaft. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Spearing you with a weighted look, Yoongi shoves you back into the door harder than before, the wood creaking under the pressure. Fist resting on the frame next to your head, his body cages you in.

Every shuddered inhale has the planes of his firm chest pressing into yours with the expansion of his lungs. His hips buck up into the softness of your palm with a grunt.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he cautions.

Competitiveness is a gift and a curse.

Not one to be outdone, you brush away any lingering reservations - which being honest, there weren’t many left. His relieved groan when you tug out his cock reverberates through you.

Shit, that’s so unfair.

Yoongi already sounds wrecked yet you’ve barely touched him. How the fuck are you going to get through this without completely combusting when he actually cums?

Thinking that maybe focusing on what you’re doing will help, you look down.

Big mistake.

Dark designer jeans circle his thighs, low enough for his cock to spring free.

Flushed, curved towards his belly, the head swollen and sticky with pre-cum. The shaft a decent handful that pulses when your palm skims the side.

Feminine appreciation at the sight has velvet heat pooling between your thighs, pussy clenching at the thought of him inside you.

Sex with him was always stupidly good.

All those veiled lyrics about his skill in the bedroom far too accurate for comfort.

Since you broke up, you haven’t been with anyone that comes close to his ability in getting you off.

He’s ruined you.

His face burrows into the crook of your neck with a low groan. His breath puffs across your skin, shivers racing down your spine.

Low voice full of grit, he says, “Shit, baby, that feels…”

Hot palms anchor themselves to your hips.

“Wait a sec,” he says, body twitching with aborted thrusts, strong fingers kneading. “Wanna do you too.”

Heart jumping, you let go of him long enough to yank your shirt over your head and kick off your pants before returning your hand to his cock.

In the meantime, he rucks his shirt up under his armpits. You can’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat as the length of his torso is exposed.

All that soft, smooth skin stretching over his stomach as he flexes. You have to fight down the urge to run your tongue along the outline of his hip.

Mouth slack, Yoongi pushes up the cups of your bra. Watches laser-focused on the bounce of your tits as they drop free, subtly swaying with every jerk of your wrist.

His hips fuck up into the circle of your hand while one of his own inches down to brush the crease of your thigh. Your hips tilt towards his touch, desperate for friction.

“Oh god.” He moans, calloused fingers dipping between your folds. “You’re so wet for me.”

You wiggle, whining against his lips as you meet in a messy kiss. His touch is light, gentle, barely there as he traces the length of your slit.

You’re trembling, skin too tight, body feverish. “Stop teasing, I want you inside me.”

Those seem to be the magic words because Yoongi gives a rumble of approval, using his thumb to spread slick over your swollen clit in tight circles.

Heat coils in your belly, electricity racing down your spine. Your thighs splay as wide as they can, making room for his hand.

His knuckles brush your skin.

Dipping down to your entrance, Yoongi works on spreading you open with shallow thrusts until you take three fingers comfortably.

Your needy sighs and soft moans bounce off the walls.

His low murmurs right in your ear as the pads stroke your walls, his wrist flexing. He’s hitting all the right spots, still remembering how to get you off years after the fact.

You’re quickly turning weak-kneed and wet eyed.

“Fuck, Yoongs, right there,” you keen, baring down on the digits nudging your g-spot, your grip tightening around his shaft.

You grind your palm over the swollen tip, gathering beads of pre-cum.

He hisses, thrusts off beat.

Fingers nudge up suddenly, pressing deep and holding in retaliation. White lightening crackles behind your eyelids, thighs twitching, mouth dropping open.

“Yeah, just like that, pretty girl.”

Your world narrows down to every filthy slide of his cock in your hand, every gush of slick as he stuffs fingers into you over and over again until you’re a writhing mess against the door.

Your nerve endings are alive with pleasure, the stimulation too much and not enough.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, doubling his efforts, wrist working faster.

Dapples of sweat litter his brow, his eyes staring into yours, glazed over and lusting.

Fuck, he’s handsome like this.

It’s a little embarrassing how bad he’s got you but between the blissed-out expression he’s wearing, the weight of him in your hand, and how full you are, you know this orgasm is going to be quick, messy.

The pace of his hips pick up, his breath hitching in his throat, length twitching and thickening in your grip.

He’s getting close, his touch rougher, more force behind the snapping thrusts of his hips, teeth nipping at the side of your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you say, breathless, twisting your hand on the upstroke. He smothers a grunt in your shoulder. “Give it to me.”

It doesn’t take much more to bring him to the edge.

A particular spread of his fingers has you jolting, a sudden, intense spike of pleasure shooting right to your clit.

In turn, you unintentionally massage his cock, knuckles bumping the underside of the swollen head.

He’s a goner.

Cumming with a low, wounded whine and a shuttered thrust, Yoongi smacks the door with his free hand. Thick spurts of jizz make an absolute mess of his stomach and your knuckles.

Sagging forward like a doll with cut strings, all his dead weight bears down on you.

He pants, small tremors wrack his frame. “Baby,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I missed you s’much.”

“Missed you too,” you reply, using nice, languid strokes to wring the last of his orgasm out of him. “More than I thought I did.”

In lieu of a response, Yoongi wiggles his fingers inside you, rebuilding the rhythm he lost. He flutters them, curls up against your walls, peppering kisses along the length of your jaw with a hum.

Slick drips down his wrist, the sloppy sound of him finger fucking your cunt blending with a surge of desperate moans.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Yoongi says against your chin. “So fucking hot, wanna see you cum.”

Your back arches, your fingers digging into the width of his shoulders, head smacking the door with a dull thud.

“Can you do that for me?”

Nodding frantically, you fall apart with a broken gasp. Clamping down so hard he can’t move, the cramps softened by the throbbing heat washing over you. Blood rushes in your ears as your pussy gushes around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he praises, tone heated. “You did so well for me.”

By the time your brain comes back online, you’ve forgotten all about Chang-ryul and the constant vibration of your phone where it’s shoved - forgotten - into your pocket.

The only thing that matters is Yoongi with his tender kisses and greedy hands.

[antiquarianfics]

The Best Things Take Time

Bucky has a code. You manage to crack it.

A/N: This took me so long because I wasn't really sure how I wanted to go about it. I'm pretty happy with it, I think. Also, my first request! I hope I did your brain-child justice. :) Warnings: Mild language. Based on this request. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

----

Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date—even with Sam and Yori pushing him all the time. His triggers are gone, yes, but he is starkly aware that he still has a long way to go before he might be considered ready to give time and energy to another person on a daily basis. However, if there is anyone in the world that makes him reconsider his own rule, it’s you.

The two of you first formally met when Steve, Sam, and yourself finally tracked him down. You were kind to him, but you kept your distance. He never made many attempts to speak with you, but the short interactions he did have with you were short and clinical. He never asked, but he’s pretty sure you’re afraid of him—of what he’s done.

Despite this assumption, Bucky takes note of the way you drop everything to help him time and time again. You back him in Washington, you back him in Siberia, you back him in Wakanda, and you back him in Washington in the second go-round. He is appreciative—very much so—but he keeps his distance regardless. After all, he shouldn’t risk losing an ally by something as silly as small talk.

Things begin to change, though, when he runs into you at the airport. Both him and you felt the need to get on Sam’s back about giving up the shield.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, a little indignantly. You cringe a little at your tone, but you brush it off nonetheless.

Bucky shoots you an annoyed look before turning to Sam.

Throughout the mission to track down the Flag Smashers, you and Bucky bicker (even more than Sam and Bucky do). You challenge him on every opinion he shares, poke fun at every misstep he takes, and side with Sam for the sake of disagreeing with him. He returns the favor, and he ignores the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth.

Your interactions are not particularly pleasant, sure, but they’re existent—which is progress.

—

“Does he always stare like that?” Walker asks Sam, eyeing Bucky uncomfortably.

“You get used to it,” Sam replies.

You glare at Walker. His attitude towards you and your boys bothers you. His entitlement to Steve’s shield and name bothers you. He bothers you.

“Does she always stare like that?” Walker asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Only when douchebags harass my friends,” you deadpan.

You are plenty aware this is the first time you’ve called Bucky your friend, and you can tell he is too by the way his eyes shift from Walker to you. You’re not aware, though, that your concession of friendship serves as the push he needs to talk to you more.

—

It takes time, but over the next few weeks, Bucky manages to get you to open up. He’s surprised with himself by how he’s willing to talk to you; after all, people are usually trying to get him to talk.

Bucky finds out that you’re actually not as reserved as he thought, but you had heard both Steve’s stories of before and multiple people’s accounts of after. Your distance, you admit, was a consequence of you trying to give him space when everyone else was crowding him. Your teasing and bickering with him was a consequence of trying to create said space. The revelation makes Bucky’s heart clench: no one has made him feel so cared for in a long time.

Bucky sticks by his no dating rule, though. After all, you may be friends, and you may be acting nicer to him lately, but there’s no way you like him like that.

Or, at least he thinks so until Louisiana.

—

“Hey, Sarah,” Bucky says, flashing a charming smile at her from where he sits next to Sam and yourself on the dock.

“Hey!” You smack his chest with the back of your hand. “No flirting with Sam’s sister.”

He lets his attention shift to you, and he can’t help the surprise. He’s aware that you could just be enforcing Sam’s demand from earlier, but you’re so adamant. He thinks maybe he sees a flash of jealousy in your eyes, but he thinks, too, he might just be seeing what he wants to see.

Sam and Sarah continue to bicker before she shoos the three of you away from the boat. Sam and Bucky step onto the dock and begin to walk away before you, and they keep walking even when Sarah stops you.

“Subtle,” she says, smirking at you. You wave her off, your face heating up with a blush.

“Shut up,” you say, embarrassment entwined with each syllable.

Bucky thinks maybe—just maybe—you might like him back.

—

Looking back on the last few years, Bucky can hardly believe the journey you and he had been on. Being so distant most of your time together in the first few years, and then being so rude to each other the next few, and then needing a push from the Wilsons to actually do anything about your feelings… it was interesting, to say the least.

He remembers the day you agreed to leave Louisiana with him. It was an impulsive decision, but it led to the first time the two of you had truly been alone together. It led to inside jokes and deep conversations. It led to a genuine friendship.

“I’m headed out tomorrow,” Bucky informed you and Sam.

The three of you were sitting on the porch of Sarah’s house, conversation flowing from friendly jests, to Karli, to the boat, to whatever else. Your head shot up to stare at him, eyes widening.

“What? Why?” Your tone was a little panicked. Bucky raised his eyebrows at your tone. Sam laughed, and you shot him a glare.

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, Doll,” he said. Ever since the incident with Sarah, he’d let a few pet names for you fall from his lips, and he smugly noted the way they made you squirm.

“Oh.”

“Well!” Sam exclaimed, clapping his palms on his knees as he stood. “I’m gonna go check on Sarah and the boys while you,” he pointed at the two of you in turn, “figure whatever is going on here out.”

You protested, but Sam was gone without another word. Neither one of you spoke for a moment, and you chewed on your lip.

“You’re really going?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“You can come with me, if you want,” he offered before he can think better of himself.

Your eyes shot to his, analyzing his face for any sort of jest. He seemed sincere, and once you decided he wasn’t pulling your leg, you responded.

“Okay.”

He remembers the day the two of you finally addressed that you were more than friends. Bucky, of course, has a no dating rule, and you? You had no such thing, but you weren’t dating either. In fact, you hadn’t since before Karli and the Flag Smashers showed up.

Bucky and yourself were at a bar, drinking and laughing with one another. He was sober, of course, but you were a little tipsy. You had a dopey smile on your face that he thought was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He still thinks your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

That’s when a young woman sauntered up to the bar. She was gorgeous; her long, black braids reached her waist, her lips were painted a bright red color, and she wore a halter top that left little to the imagination.

“Hi,” she said, grabbing your attention, shooting you a flirtatious smile.

“Hi!” You said, the alcohol making you friendlier than you usually are.

“I saw you across the bar, and I was jus’ wonderin’, would you wanna grab a drink with me? Maybe dance a lil’?” Her eyes dragged down your body and back up to your eyes.

Your eyes widened and you blushed.

“Oh, uh! T-thank you! I’m flattered, but, uh, I got my guy right here, and I kinda like him too much to date!” You sort of yell-whispered the confession to the girl.

She glanced behind you to Bucky whose eyes had also widened in shock, his mouth hanging open a little. The woman laughed and touched your shoulder comfortingly.

“‘s alright,” she assured. “Was worth a shot, though.”

She turned to Bucky then.

“Yo, congrats, man. You’re a lucky guy once you two talk that through.”

With that, she had left, and you turned around to Bucky.

“Look,” you said, more sober sounding than you’d been since the two of you arrived at the bar. “I don’t know what you think this is, or what you want it to be, but I’m all in if you are.”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you without a second thought.

And he remembers the moment he decided he was going to marry you, if you’d have him.

The two of you were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment; after about two years of dating, you insisted you live together.

“Buck, you’re always here. All your stuff is here. I don’t think you’ve stepped foot in your apartment in a month. You’re just wasting money on rent at this point.”

You were leaned into his side, eyes glued to the tv screen. The two of you were watching The Princess Bride (it’s one of the many movies you insisted was so culturally significant that he had to see it). It was the way you would turn to him at your favorite parts, gauging his reactions to see if he loved it like you did; the way you would mouth the most iconic lines along with the characters; and the way you would sigh contentedly and cuddle further into his side at the romantic scenes that really pulled the realization from deep within him. And, perhaps, it was the way you produced the most ridiculous voice to say "Mawwiage! Mawwiage is what bwings us here today!" that truly brought the idea of marrying you to the forefront of his mind. Regardless, he knew he wanted you around for the rest of his already over-extended lifetime.

—

Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date, and he decided late in his life as a free man that he wasn't going to ever try and date anyone other than you. So, here he finds himself, kneeling on the ground in front of you with a ring extended towards your person, and hoping you'll say yes.

"Sweetheart, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs. We met when I wasn't truly myself, we got together when I was still figuring out who I am on my own—without Steve, without HYDRA—but no matter what, you've been there for me. You're still here for me.

"You deserve the world, Doll, and I want to give it to you. I want to be here for all your ups and downs, and I want to spend my life being to you what you've already been to me.

"You're my partner, you're my best friend, you're the love of my life. And if you'll have me, I'll be your king, if you'll be my queen. I'll be your husband, if you'll be my wife.

"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?"

You let out a laugh through a sob, pulling your hand to your face to quickly wipe your tears away, and you nod vigorously. You drop to your knees, pulling Bucky's face into your hands, caressing his cheek gently. Smiling, you respond.

"James Bucky Barnes, of course I'll marry you."

[raayllum]

She Must Pay the Price, or A Drop of Mercy :: A Rayla and Leola Meta

Quick:

You're a young elven girl, and you show mercy and compassion to a human that you definitely weren't supposed to. When it's found out, you're punished, with elves even calling for your execution (6x09, book 1 novelization). Your father does what he can, but there's only so much. You're put on trial. You're found guilty regardless of intent, and only by association. You die for this; you die for them. You're a star. A guiding light. There's even a Great Fall off a precipice (though only one of you hits the ground).

Your name is Leola, or Rayla.

You're the beginning and the end, respectively.

So let's talk about it.

Tests of Love

For years, I had wondered where Aaravos' assessment of "Those who fail tests of love are simple animals. They deserve to be motivated by fear" (2x09) came from, cause you don't drop in a line like that if it's not going somewhere. It's quite a statement and worldview, after all. Now, with Leola's trial, it seems we know.

We can see, then, perhaps that Leola's gift giving was the first test of love — are you willing to break the Natural Law, the Natural Order of things? — to help another? To show another a source of power in order to share, to be compassionate, and in Rayla's case, to be merciful (though we'll get more to that in a minute).

We also know that the love Leola had was powerful and all encompassing:

She didn't care to follow the order set in the stars. Though she was born an immortal being from the Heavens, she loved this world... and all its flaws. Her heart was warm and open.

And she befriended mortals. Animals, elves... and humans.

ETHARI: Who I love, where I love, what I love, are all specific. But to Runaan and those like your parents... love is rooted in all families, all creatures. Souls like that feel called to protect everyone as fiercely as those they hold close. (Bloodmoon Huntress)

Okay, so Leola and Rayla both have big compassionate hearts and befriend creatures from all over the place. So what? So do Callum, Ezran, Soren, and most of our other main good guy characters. Even Claudia to a degree (though she could work on not using magical creatures for spell parts).

Well, specifically, it's because of how they intersect currently more with anyone else on the concept of

Mercy

KOSMO: Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart. In a moment of mercy, you sent ripples out into the ocean of time. Ripples that have not yet stilled. (6x05)

Rayla sparing Marcos, as noted in multiple interviews by the creators and by myself in previous metas, is ultimately the inciting incident / lynchpin of the entire series. Without it, there would've been no soulfang proposal or Ez running away to find the egg or any of the number of other elements that had to come together to make achieving peace possible.

While we still have details to discover regarding Aaravos' Fall and development of dark magic, we know that a lack of mercy was ultimately what sent him on his path of vengeance. Leola was not shown mercy, and while it seems there were already "flaws" for an imperfect world, things were (probably) better than they currently are in Xadia in a variety of ways. Then, to kick off the entire Saga, we have Rayla sparing Marcos in a soundtrack literally titled "Mercy" and have Kosmo, seasons and seasons later, spell out directly what a big deal this was for well, the ocean of time.

None of this is to say Rayla can't act out of revenge — she did ("when I first came here, I was on a mission for revenge") and she has ("but I became so obsessed with revenge"), much like Aaravos ("he isn't doing anything out of love, he's doing it for revenge") — but that her general compassion and love for others has always been stronger than her grief or rage, and that even when she had every social and personal reason to, she was and is fundamentally unable to hurt someone innocent.

Even when she's shamed or punished for it by herself or by others. RAYLA: The human looked up at me, and I saw the fear in his eyes. RUNAAN: Of course he was afraid, but you a job to do! (1x01)

EZRAN: Yeah, but then you saw he was scared, and you knew he was a person, just like you. RAYLA: That shouldn't have mattered. I had a job to do. (1x08)

The Cosmic Council — and to a degree, the Silvergrove — say that the reasonings or motivations, the intentions, behind Leola and Rayla's actions do not and should not matter when it comes out to doling 'Justice'. So Leola faces her justice, being literally killed in the one manner that can kill a Startouch elf, and so does Rayla, being metaphorically Ghosted / 'murdered' by her community, regardless.

Neither are enough to ultimately quell their light or their love/power, however.

A Star

RAYLA: That beautiful shining star you just pointed out? We call it Leola's Last Wish. (5x02)

So both Leola and Rayla are stars in season 6, literally and metaphorically respectively. Leola's is more self-explanatory, whereas Rayla's is mostly about the role she has in Callum's life as a guiding light and star. I don't think it's a coincidence, though, that just as Rayla placed Callum on his path of being a primal mage, though, that Leola did the same for humanity. I also don't think it's a coincidence that Callum's love for Rayla restores Callum's own light and agency amid Leola giving humanity the same through light and fire.

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have. (TDP shorts, Ripples)

In this way, we see the manifestation of a repeating parallel of Rayla representing Leola, a gift giver of life, magic, light, unjustly punished/killed, and Callum representing humanity, looking to the kindest brightest star for guidance, magic, restoration, and salvation if he's just given the chance to grasp it. After all, presumably, Leola's last wish would have something to do with primal magic and humanity, and who represents that better than Callum, with two arcana under his belt and possibly more on the way? With that in mind, I want to return to another quote from earlier but with a different focus on

Ripples

Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart. In a moment of mercy, you sent ripples out into the ocean of time. Ripples that have not yet stilled.

The wisest of the humans looked upon the water. His own reflection smiled back at him, and he dared to imagine what such power would feel like in his own hands, should he be allowed to hold it. Imagine, he thought, if I were more than what I am. With a trembling hand he touched the surface of the water. Ripples spread from his fingertips. [...] I hope the stars were watching. I hope they saw it: the moment their perfect reflections turned warped and ruined, churned to chaos by the touch of a single human hand. In this, the humans taught me another lesson. And so I touch the surface of the water. I watch the ripples spread.

Water in TDP is a strange beast, symbolically speaking. There are some more straight forward motifs (reflections, "don't try to control where the river [of life] goes, there's one thing you can know and control: yourself"). For Aaravos, it's connected to deep loss but also his own sense of patience in playing and winning his game, as illustrated above. For Rayla, it's linked to shame, self-reflection, bravery, and loss. Aaravos weeps and creates a sea upon losing Leola; Rayla says goodbye to her family by the lotus pond times three.

We don't know what water represents for Leola. Not distinctly, anyway. The best we can figure though, is that by following the through line of the Rayla and Leola parallels, that the ripples Leola wanted to send out or did send out — not the distortions caused by her father and his grief — are ones that Rayla received, and then continued.

Rayla has always been a foil to Aaravos, and this hasn't changed. She is the one who set Callum on the path initially of being a mage, which put him in Aaravos' machinations as prey; she retrieved his Key; and she's the reason Callum's done dark magic, twice. At the same time, much like the moon, Rayla carries Leola's light as much as she shoulders Aaravos' dark. She literally represents light in Callum's life, helps lead him through the darkness, and him being a primal mage and it's possible growth to other humans is the best possible thing that could've ever happened to Xadia.

Sol Regem says that "no one can save" Xadia or fix what is deeply broken. The Cosmic Council said that Leola had broken the Cosmic order and had to pay the price. Rayla has repeatedly been willing to pay the price for both hers and other's actions in hopes of making things right, of sparing others' pain. Sometimes to her detriment, but—if Rayla as Callum's one Truth could fix the darkness within him, if she's the lynchpin for breaking the Cycle, for bringing back Runaan and fixing her family's souls, in opposing and presenting mercy amid the Council's lack of mercy, in the face of Xadia's violence—

Then Rayla's act of mercy in 1x01, and potentially beyond in S7 with Callum, will be what fixes Xadia.

Leola's gift of magic is what 'broke' Xadia, and her execution is what literally did so, leading to the division of the continent. She wrongly paid the price in the absence of mercy and love. Rayla is therefore her thematic successor — welcomed this time as Light and Truth — as the carrier of Mercy and Love, and she will 'fix' Xadia through her ripples and dynamics. She will mend them back together. There will, at last, be no price to pay.

Misc. Thoughts / Predictions

One thing I was always curious about going forward into future seasons was the prospect of a 'trial' or reunification of the Silvergrove. It felt like a no-brainer the Silvergrove would have to change in order to reflect Runaan's character arc, much the way we see Katolis and the Sunfire elves change to better accommodate the new, more compassionate world order. Pre-S4 a trial felt a little strange as an idea, though post-S4 the parallels it could provide to the Lucia tribunal made more sense about why include either (or both).

However, Leola's trial seemed to hammer home the almost necessity (as this is still a prediction, after all, that may not happen) of Rayla and/or Runaan saying their peace to the Silvergrove leaders. This would be a great opportunity to provide a contrast to the Cosmic Council, reaffirming that Xadia is ultimately better than them because the Moonshadow elves and everyone else can change, and the Cosmic Council seemingly cannot or will not. But I guess we'll have to wait for S7 or beyond (#GiveUsTheSaga) to find out if this'll come to fruition or not.

I also wanted to touch on what we see with Leola ("I'm so scared!") and the repeated emphasis on "recognizing fear as a moment of empathy and personhood" and the horror that can come if you don't have that moment of recognition. This is something I've touched on before most notably as a striking difference between S1 Rayla and S5 Claudia, but I thought it was worth mentioning as S6 added to it specifically with Viren towards Soren and Lissa. This is another point in the "Rayla is an inversion of the Council's lack of mercy" column, as Leola's — a child's fear, and Aaravos willing to pay the price and take her place — earns her no mercy. Rayla, meanwhile, sees someone innocent that she has 'every right' to execute is afraid of her, and that strays her hand; it steadies her sword, and she spares him. Because if someone is afraid of you, it's worth asking yourself why, and what you might want to do instead.

Last but not least I wanted to talk about Leola's parallels to Callum and Ezran as well, since they are very much there (though yet not perhaps to the same extent).

Ezran has Leola's friendliness to animals and soft heart. He too is a child whose death is called for as a means of Justice, and he is granted mercy through Rayla and the discovery of the egg, able to live and grow and help usher in peace. He is, I think, what Leola might've been allowed to be if she'd lived in different times. Callum, meanwhile, carries the gift giving motif through his cube, staff, and tokens he both gives to (moon-phoenix bracelet) and receives (the moon opal necklace) from Rayla, and previous 'human-Leola' magic dynamic. Callum being able to break free fully from Aaravos' and dark magic's control in S7 and turn his eye instead to primal magic will be what helps bring true justice to Leola and hope for humanity / Xadia in righting the Cosmic Council's fundamental wrongdoing. Hopefully, anyway.

Conclusion

I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into some parallels and potential narrative goings-on between Leola and Rayla as characters. TDP loves its historical and ironic layers in TDP (Ez and the Orphan Queen, Viren's arc from S1 to S6) and I think this layered thematic dynamic between the two merciful young girls was a good, brilliant choice by the creative team. I'm excited to see where this thematic thread goes in the future and how it may continue to be woven into the story. As always, thank you for reading, and I'll see you in the next one.

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

I heard that the japanese fans saying that bkdk was implied is it really true? Can you please explain?!! (I was pretty happy with the ending already, but if it's true I would be ecstatic 🧡💚💖)

I'm not really sure how to answer this. First, I'll direct you to this ask I answered previously about bkdk in the Japanese fandom.

And if you're talking about the same tweets from jpn fans I saw getting shared around, the majority of the comments clearly used emojis, euphemisms, and algorithm-disrupting nicknames for Katsuki and Izuku, which kind of immediately suggests the user is already a bkdk fan. So, I mean... do you go into shipping fan spaces, see people shipping, and decide that means everybody thinks those characters are dating? Probably not, right?

But now that we've got an ending, lemme say outright that bkdk is implied by the base structure of the story. By the characters' thematic arcs. By their words, values, goals, and actions. Regardless of what language they speak, no reader can walk away from MHA without understanding that Izuku and Katsuki are profoundly important to each other.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Izuku loves Katsuki. And by the end of his character arc, there is no way to read Katsuki's actions towards Izuku and not see love, either. The exact nature of that love is up to individual interpretation; this is common for stories outside the romance genre that have complex character relationships, and I encourage you to feel secure in your own reading without external validation.

But if you want to talk about validity, the fact that we don't see either of them say the words "I love you" out loud does not diminish a romantic interpretation.

Just for fun, let's talk a bit about some important history of "implied" romance in shonen manga.

(Spoilers for Urusei Yatsura and Ranma 1/2.)

Takahashi Rumiko, one of the most successful and influential manga creators of all time, famously ended two of her heterosexual romantic comedy plotlines while denying readers a spoken, reciprocated "I love you."

In Urusei Yatsura, Lum spends the entire series actively pursuing Ataru and in the finale, she threatens to erase everyone's memories of her and her fellow aliens if he does not tell her he loves her. The situation makes it impossible for him to win and stop the memory erasing without saying it.

And he still refuses to say it.

He keeps trying to win and avoid losing his memory without saying it; she recognizes his devotion to her when she sees that all this time, he has been carrying something that reminds him of her.

Oh, look at that. I wonder who else spent a long time holding fast to something that represents the time they spent with their loved one?

Lum finally relents and allows Ataru to win, so everyone keeps their memories.

Each of them affirms the intention to be together forever, without using the words "I love you."

WOW I WONDER WHO ELSE WANTED TO BE LOCKED IN A COMBATIVE ENTANGLEMENT OF PURSUIT WITH THE PERSON THEY LOVE FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES.

In Ranma 1/2, Ranma and Akane have been engaged to be married for the whole series, and at a pivotal moment, Ranma thinks the words "I love you," though he does not say them aloud.

Afterwards, Akane finally agrees to let the wedding take place with this as her reasoning:

And Ranma completely objects to having admitted this.

Akane is fucking right, fyi--ignoring everything else that happens in the series, Ranma rescuing her and crying over her injured body while yelling her name might as well be a confession.

Due to ensemble cast chaos, the wedding is postponed again at the end of the manga.

It is worth noting that these series are both in the romantic comedy genre, so their plot devices surrounding love are much more explicit, even if the final execution toys with our expectations. It makes the characters' real feelings obvious while keeping them true to their nature, because that's the core appeal of the relationship to begin with.

As I said, in manga that are not romances, these bonds are often more subtle.

When I said 424 was as good as a confession to me, this is part of why.

Katsuki says he thought they would be together for the rest of their lives. Izuku promises what he can, which is the time he still has the embers of OFA. He may think Katsuki is simply mourning a future where Izuku has OFA, which he can't get back.

In direct response to that exchange, for our finale, we find out Katsuki spent eight years arranging for Izuku to be a pro hero without OFA.

Katsuki beckons Izuku to his side, using the name that used to be an insult, but has since become Izuku's hero name. He reaches out his hand to Izuku, which the reader knows he has wanted to do for so long.

The last image we see might as well be them skipping off into the sunset together, side by side.

Am I supposed to see that as something other than love, just because all their friends are there, too? That seems kinda silly to me.

MHA emphasizes the collective, but that doesn't diminish the individual bonds within it. It goes out of its way to tell us this moment is possible because of Katsuki, because he wants Izuku beside him. We may not get our handhold here, but it is plain to see that Izuku accepts his invitation.

I'm not saying Horikoshi was directly inspired by Takahashi, but her works are an important piece of the narrative language of love within the shonen genre.

Art always reflexively harkens back to what came before it. Whether the creator intends it or not, the audience is reminded of what they've seen before in the cultural landscape of media. Whether or not Horikoshi intended for us to see bkdk as romantic is simply irrelevant to how any given reader is going to see it.

So, if you want permission to think Katsuki and Izuku are in love, you've got mine. tumblr user bakuhatsufallinlove sanctions this epic gay love story. Plus Ultra. You're welcome. <3

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: getting a curse that makes you horny is not how you expected your day to turn out....espeically when if means your friends have to help you deal with your situation

⊱✿⊰ warnings: straight up smut, pơrn w plot, aphrodisiacs, this could sort of be considered dub-con but i still believe it is consensual, also this is written by a minor so if u don't want that u can leave, don't report jst block chat, nobara teaching the boys abt girls bodies, simp boys, unprotected sex (be careful irl pls 🙏)

⊱✿⊰ notes: i went from writing slightly suggestive to a freaking foursome but im slay for it okay. i apologize if this sucks i do not know how to write sexual stuff but i had this dream and it was FIRE. Also i have seen like five episodes of this show so try not to give spoilers and i apologize if this is not how curses work 😭 if adults interact imma be weirded out bc these characters r my age 🤨

if you know me (other than skye) don't talk to me abt this unless ur happy im shy enough as it is 💀

you hadn't realized you had even been affected by the curse that hit you earlier until you were on the way to the academy. it was a strange sort of descent to suddenly have your skin feverishly warm and a white hot need coiling deep in your gut. you were practically shaking by the time you reached jujustu high.

you stumbled towards your dorm, ignoring the way any sort of friction against your core made you want to whimper like a cat in heat. your underwear was well on the way of being utterly soaked and your foggy brain couldn't even bother to care.

"you okay, [name]?" yuji asked, his sturdy hand wrapping around your waist when your knees started to buckle. you bit your tongue hard enough to draw small drops of blood to prevent the needy sigh from escaping your lips. he was so strong and he was so sweet, his gentle smile making you wish it was between your thighs.

"i'm fine...just exhausted." you managed to grit out, unable to disguise the thick strain on your voice. maybe you were going insane, because why else would you be feeling this...horny?

"i'd wager you're more than exhausted." megumi piped in, his intense stare sending electricity straight to your core. he walked forward, with nobara not far behind, his mouth in a set line. he continued, "you are being affected by an aphrodisiac inflicted by an incubus."

nobara gave you a sneaky smile coming closer and sliding her arms around your waist and pulling you against your body. you couldn't help the whimper that you released when you felt her warm breath against your cheek.

"you horny, baby?" she purred, making your jaw drop slightly. oh, so she knows. you looked at her shyly, give her a little nod.

"that's what an aphro whatever does?" yuji asked, his chest still firmly pressed into your back. megumi nodded, his eyes darting between how you're sandwiched between nobara and yuji.

"h-how do i make it go away?" you piped up, internally cursing at the tone of your voice. it was thick with need, heavy with lust. maybe you should google how to bury oneself alive? that would be better than this embarrassing situation.

"you need to orgasm, at the very least once. but it will probably require quite a few tries." megumi explained, calmly as if he wasn't talking about his classmate cumming. before you knew it, you were sitting on megumi's bed. nobara and yuji must have led you to his room while he was talking.

"your arms are almost like jelly, honey." nobara noted, picking up your limp arm before letting it drop to your side, "why don't you let us take care of this for you?"

this time megumi, yuji, and you all paused. even through the gnawing desire to be railed you were still surprised at the suggestion. yuji's jaw dropped and megumi blushed, both of their reactions endearing if you were in a better state of mind.

"i have heard far too much about how both of these losers want to fuck you but are too wimpy to do anything. and i wouldn't mind making my girl feel good." nobara sat on the bed beside you and let her hands drift down your thighs. you shivered, parting them almost instinctively.

megumi shot nobara a glare like he was pissed his secret had been revealed and yuji gave you a sheepish smile. both boths came closer until everybody was sitting on the bed.

"you should still be in good conscious to consent." megumi said, his eyes burning into the spot where your legs were spread ever so slightly. your skirt was rising slightly, more of your skin revealed. "do you feel comfortable with this, [name]?"

suddenly you felt all pairs of eyes on you, making arousal seep into your underwear and rendering them positively destroyed. even with your body weak and full of animalistic need, you still had a mostly coherent thought process.

"please, yes please." you stuttered out, looking down at your lap with a shy expression.

nobara grinned deviously at your consent before pulling you onto her lap, pressing your back into her chest. she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck and her hands drifting down your body.

"just relax, we're gonna make you feel real good." she said spreading your legs and lifting up your skirt to show off your underwear. normally you would be embarrassed that megumi and yuji were kneeling in front of you and staring directly at your cloth covered pussy. but you were far too gone to comprehend a single thing.

your underwear was fully soaked, a massive wet spot on them and the smell of your arousal wafting through the air. nobara kept kissing your neck, nibbling at the supple skin as her nimble fingers hooked around the waistband and slipped your underwear off.

your cunt was weeping for attention, puffy folds and twitching clit. your arousal was dripping down your legs, onto megumi's sheets. although he seemed too enthralled with your aching hole to care about the mess you were making.

a sharp gasp escaped your lips when nobara's fingers met your clit, rubbing it gently and in circular motions. as though their eyes had an invisible touch, the intense focus of both megumi and yuji added extra stimulation to your body.

"see this? this is like the key to the treasure chest." nobara said, still steadily rubbing that little bundle of nerves. you wiggled in her lap, trying to stop the embarrassing whimpers from escaping.

"does that feel good, [name]?" yuji asked, his hand suddenly reaching out to grab your thigh and keep you from wriggling out of nobara's hold. his touch was gentle but fuck was he strong.

you nodded and let out a little moan as nobara fingers slipped to your slit, collecting the wetness before teasing your hole. it eagerly tried to suck her digits in, aching to be filled.

"needy, are we?" megumi noted, the goregous rumble of his voice sending vibrations straight to your cunt. it clenched around nothing, showing off your horniness to your entire friend group. dear lord you were about to be fucked by all your friends.

finally nobara sunk her slender fingers in your cunt, the pads of her digits massaging the gummy walls. your toes curled and your back arched, a sigh of pleasure and relief filling the air like a lustful breeze. she grinned against your neck, going back to kissing you as she dipped her fingers in and out.

your pussy shamlessly gushed as she did this, loud enough you were sure the entire world could hear how well you were being fingered. not to mention the pretty little gasps and sighs that slipped between your parted lips.

"fuck," yuji grunted and your eyes fell from staring at the ceiling to him. his hand was cupping his massive bulge through his pants, his brown eyes blown out wide with lust. megumi wasn't fairing much better with a bright red face and parted lips he kept wetting.

"c'mon pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?" nobara purred, her free hand drifting from your waist to slipping under your shirt. she found your tits beneath your shirt and bra, rolling your hardened nipple between two of her digits.

your body suddenly tensed, walls clenching around her slender fingers as they curled right at the spongey point of pleasure. your cunt practically sucked her fingers in as it gushed around them. your jaw slightly dropped as your long wanton moan filled the room like a symphony of your pleasure.

"good girl." nobara praised while megumi and yuji stared at you with wide eyes. with a sudden shyness, you realized you might have been the first girl to have cum in front of them.

even with the orgasm you still felt that burn in your core and slick dripping down your thighs, like the needy whore you were. your mind was fuzzy with lust, pussy aching to be filled yet again.

"megumi, how about you fuck our princess?" nobara suggested, still rolling your senstive nub between her fingers as though to appease you while you waited, "and yuji, fill her mouth so she can't be too loud, yeah?"

the two boys agreed and suddenly you were being placed flat on the bed. your uniform was being stripped off by all three hands, leaving you naked and vulnerable soon.

megumi lifted your legs and spread them a bit more, you whining as the cool air brushed against your leaking cunt. he groaned softly, his raging hard on rubbed against your thigh.

he unzipped his pants enough for his cock to spring out, a pretty pink color with precum leaking out of the reddish tip. then he fixed your position, stroking his dick and rubbing the tip aganist your weeping slit. you whimpered, wriggling your hips like it would make it magically slip inside..

"shit," megumi hissed as he finally sunk his length into your pussy. you whined loudly as he finally filled you up, your back arching in attempts to get him deeper.

suddenly your eyes snapped upwards when you felt yuji's cockhead pressing into your lips. eagerly you parted them, tongue sticking out to lick the precum oozing out. yuji let out a soft sigh as you finally let him in, tongue exploring the large mass inside your mouth.

nobara wasn't feeling excluded at all it seemed, with the way her hands wandered to play with your tits. she smirked, watching the erotic scene unfold in front of her.

you felt almost like a ragdoll, getting fucked on both sides. megumi's thrusts were long and teasing, sliding almost all the way out before slamming all the way in again. whereas yuji was erratic and passionate, carelessly fucking your throat.

it was possibly the hottest and strangest situation you have ever found yourself in.

your moans were muffled by yuji's cock, mixed in with the soft gags of being filled up so entirely. everything felt so lewd, squelching of your cunt being hammered into by megumi and the slurps of you intently sucking yuji off.

nobara wasn't too upset about not getting "her turn" yet especially since she would prefer to have you get her off when it's just the two of you. she was patient...for now.

suddenly yuji stilled, then he kept thrusting into your mouth with jerky movements. "fuck! I'm gonna-"

a white hot liquid squirted into your mouth. It was salty and a little bitter but not terrible tasting. you swallowed up the pink haired boy's cum, some of it dribbling down your chin. once he was done he slowly pulled out, his cock softening slowly. yuji looked at you with wide eyes, almost like you showed him jennifer laurence not sucked him off

you squeaked suddenly, returning your attention to megumi who pinched your clit. he pouted at you, as though a little annoyed yuji had held your attention for so long.

you gave him a breathless smile in-between the sighs of pleasure at his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. you didn't even know something could be that deep inside of you and yet here he was, turning your tummy inside out with his dick.

"i want you to cum at the same time as me. can you do that for me, princess?" megumi said, speeding up his sensual pace. his hips snapped up to meet yours quicker now, his nimble fingers rolling and rubbing your sensitive nub in all the ways that made you certain you would explode.

with a final flick to your clit, you moaned his name and your walls squeezed around his cock. as thought triggered by your orgasm you felt his warm seed spurting inside your core, filling you up. he fucked you both through your highs, keeping his creamy cum inside your pussy.

a small whine fell from your sore throat at the empty feeling where megumi's dick used to be. however you felt that almost agonizing burn started to fade, satisfied by what you had been giving.

"aw baby." nobara cooed, gently petting the top of your unruly hair, "let us clean you up. you must be so tired from all that, yeah?"

you nodded slowly, allowing the boys to distangle from your body and allow nobara instruct them on how to clean you properly. you only started to drift off when you felt the trio cuddle around you, with nobara laying on your tummy, megumi spooning you from behind and yuji in the front. the warmth of your friends (with benefits?) coaxed your exhausted body to sleep.

hopefully you wouldn't have to ever think about the consequences of this....or at least until morning.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[popfizzles]

What started as a joke with @kittyacelia about making FNAF animatronics ACTUALLY kid-friendly, ended up snowballing into an exercise in character design and world-building.

We call them Nanny Animatronics (since "Toy" and "Plush" have already been taken). They're far softer with pastel palettes, rubber teeth with plush exteriors to avoid accidentally hurting children! They're all housed under a pizzaplex type building that functions Entirely as a daycare.

I'll add extra notes about them individually under a readmore!

Nanny Freddy is the one kids go to for advice and generic help. He's super comforting, makes his rounds across the daycare saying hello to everyone. He gives GREAT bearhugs and specializes in calming down tantrums or panic attacks.

Nanny Chica loves playing house with children! She teaches general safety, like how to properly interact with stoves or electrical outlets. She's also equipped with a database of every kid's food allergies, and makes sure nobody eats anything they're not supposed to! Her cupcake (unpictured) is named Sugar and is basically just a fully sentient stress ball toy that loves to be thrown and fidgeted with.

Nanny Bonnie is the music teacher, and loves to help kids stay in touch with their louder and excitable sides. He loves to listen to kids talk about whatever they may be interested in, and has a learning database equipped with trivia to hold conversations with kids about any topic. He's the one children infodump to!

Nanny Foxy is the smallest of the bunch, and he loves to run around with the kids! He will play pretend with children, and is even equipped with the ability to detect injury and proper First Aid knowledge to help if a kid trips and hurts themselves while playing.

Nanny Monty is the art teacher, and teaches kids to use their hands for good (like creating art!) instead of bad (hitting, pulling, or smacking). He's very good at breaking up fights and helping kids deal with anger in a reasonable way.

Nanny Roxy loves to play dress-up with kids, but her main objective is to be there for kids, and recognize self-esteem issues. She's ready to pep-talk children at a moment's notice. Everyone is a winner in Roxanne's eyes, after all!

The Mediocre Melody animatronics are all localized on a stage in the daycare, and take turns putting on different types of shows for the kids. Nanny Mr. Hippo loves telling stories for kids, even stepping in to tell naptime stories for the younger kids. Whereas Nanny Orville does small magic shows, along with his assistants Bonbon and Bonnet! The other Mediocre Melodies (Happy Frog, Nedbear, and Pigpatch) are present, but undesigned. When they aren't doing their shows, they act as an extra set of hands for the others.

Nanny Springtrap (modeled ONLY in design after a horror show attraction) is activated during October for Halloween events, and teaches kids that there's no reason to be afraid of monsters. He also advocates for safety around strangers, and that it's okay to always tell an adult if you see something scary. He (along with a currently undesigned Nanny Dreadbear) come every Halloween to give goodie bags to the kids.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- Shy S/O Scaramouche & more

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Recovery date: September 18th, 2024

Description: hii so i was wondering if you could write about genshin characters with a s/o who's rlly shy and just hides behind them when someone talks to them? For the characters i'm think scaramouche, lyney, zhongli, xiao and any others you want! Feel free to delete if u dont wanna write it, and thanks!!

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions.

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Scaramouche

As Scaramouche? He scoffs

The chances of you being around his height or taller are high

So he thinks it’s stupid

But he loves you, though he’s loath to admit it, so he’ll stand a little taller and glare at the person

You don’t want him to glare? Then stop using him as a shield

As Wanderer? Rolls his eyes

Which is an improvement

Also tries to work on your confidence because what if there’s no one to hide behind

You can hold his arm if you want, no he won’t repeat himself

In both cases, if anyone makes fun of you for it he will resort to violence

He’s actually very proud you feel so safe with him

Lyney

He’s used to Freminet, so he’s quick to adapt

Though he has to admit, you hiding behind him makes him proud

Sure, the kids hide behind him all the time; even Freminet does it sometimes

But this is different

At first he thinks the person talking is a threat, so he squares up and puts an arm arm you

Then he realizes you aren’t really afraid of this person, just shy

It remind him of when you first met, how you kept hiding behind your tea cup

That’s when it clicks, it’s never been a coincidence you’re always holding something to hide behind

Works with Freminet to help you find something like  his helmet

Also tries to pull you out of your comfort zone by putting on magic shows for the house of the earth kids

Zhongli

You have no problem hiding behind him

He’s also very understanding

Introduces you to Ganyu, she’s soft spoken and you almost remind him of her

Dragon instinct are purring

You see him as a protector, if he were his younger self he’d be preening

I mean, he is, but it would be more obvious

Offers you his coat for when he isn’t around

You can hide in it, or maybe the feeling of it will help

Definitely tries to help you out of your shell

Xiao

Actually thinks you’re in danger

You called his name 100% by accident, startling the person who asked for directions

That just made you bury your head into his shoulder

Which flustered him, so he teleported you both away

He wishes he could be there for you, but his karma means he can’t be in the city often

So he introduces you to Ganyu, because she’s pretty unsure of herself at times

Xiao totally gets insecurities, he just bottles his up

But Ganyu faces hers so surely she can help, it’s a very awkward first meeting

Anyways, if you two are out together (on the rare occasion) will gladly let you hide behind him

Unfortunately he has a bit of a resting bitch face, so anyone who tries to talk to you gets really uncomfortable