#plus I don't want to flood these tags more than I have

[carlottastudios]

Every day I get closer to making an unhinged behemoth of a post listing all of the things about Kaeya and his possible connections to mythology & stuff that I notice but NOBODY ELSE SEEMS TO BRING UP IN THEIR THEORIES

(edit: OMG I reached the tag limit I'm so sorry)

[bunny-jpeg]

viva las vegas

max verstappen - team principal au

tags: smut/pwp, team principal au, tp!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), massages, vaginal fingering, intimacy & affection, doggy style

a/n: happy las vegas gp weekend!

max remembered vegas not-so kindly. or rather he remembered the hangovers of las vegas not-so kindly. it was where things heated up depending on a driver's standing. for many years max simply smiled and waved through another race, he always kept a heavy margin between him and other drivers in the points department.

plus he had to give it to the americans, they really knew how to make their races quite the spectacle. and las vegas was no different than miami at the start of the season and austin only a little while earlier. even now as a team principal, he enjoyed the occasional cigarette on a balcony of a hotel room. except this year his head was flooded with less technical information and more the sight of his beloved star driver.

you.

you huffed with your arms crossed after media day. you wore a pout so prettily, it was real princess behavior. and where you were standing right now, you were on your rightful throne at the top of the leader board.

"i don't get why we have to do these last three races. i have this in the bag, i am over a hundred points ahead of the next driver." you pointed in a general direction as you complained to your boss, "this is stupid, give me the wdc and we can all go home."

you were tired. of course you were, he was tired too. the entire team was tired. hell, everyone from top to bottom was tired.

max put his hands on his hips. he tilted his head to the side and exhaled, "treasure." he was a little sympathetic. he remembered being ragged by mid-october, the fact you were only falling apart at the last few races was impressive, "i know, it feels like the victory is being dragged on. that we are just wasting time." he reached out for you and cupped your face with such affection, "but, think about how much you could make that margin grow.' he had both hands on your face. you were in private so he could be a little closer.

you looked up at him with such sad eyes, "it feels anti-climatic."

max smiled, "that's the price you pay you when you're just leagues ahead of them. if you don't race for the points this weekend. then race for home, race for your family... and race for me." his smile grew, "i want to watch the shock on mclaren's face when they see what they missed out on." he chuckled lightly, "the offers you would get from everyone."

you said, "don't think i'm trying to leave verstappen racing." you pouted a little more.

max felt something tug in his chest but he kept his smile, it was endearing to hear those words. that you weren't going to up and leave him. even if your contract was three years, teams had lawyers to the teeth that could easily wrangle you into their grasp. but you had no interest in that. he kissed your forehead, "how about you come to my hotel room tonight, i'll help you relax. make the weekend a little more fun."

it wasn't burdensome to go to max's room. it was often right beside yours. even if the rest of the team were on the other side of the floor. you nodded and let max kiss you in the privacy of the little corner you found yourself in.

max watched you walk through his hotel room, in nothing but an over-sized garishly pink dolly parton shirt. you were bent over at the bar fridge to take a healthy shot of gin and let the shiver run through you. he chuckled into his drink and said, "let's get you a glass for that, treasure." before he got up from the couch, "oh better yet, let's take it easy on the alcohol. you're driving tomorrow." then crossed the room to take the bottle from your hand. he dipped his nose into the back of your neck and said, "how about we find other ways to relax tonight. something that won't kill you come morning"

you looked over at him and frowned, "i could not race tomorrow and i'd still win it all" and leaned into max's touch as he took you by the chin. you turned to look at him fully and crossed your arms.

"i know, being on top does get boring. but why don't i help. after all, that is my job." he held you in his arms and admired you the way someone would admire a beautiful piece of art. you were inclined to melt into his touch. uncrossed your arms and hugged him when your head against his chest.

"i wish there was more a chase for this victory." you huffed. the perfect driver, the perfect car, the perfect team and the perfect boss. it was all to easy.

he chuckled and kissed you, "please, don't get hung up on that. think about what it would mean to have a woman have such a clear victory." he held you, "no splitting hairs with your victory. think about what you could do." he smiled at you.

you held onto the front of his t-shirt and sighed, "i know, i know. first woman and all, but... i wish there was more of a fight."

max smiled, he knew the feeling well as he tenderly held you. he kissed your forehead lovingly before he said, "why don't we forget about that. and no more alcohol." then led you to the grand bedroom of the room. he sat on the bed and admired you.

in the over sized shirt and cotton panties. nothing special, but max ate up every last bit of it. the idea that he got the see you like this. he knew that men thirsted over you. fans that couldn't get it through their head that you'd never be with them.

you were just voted the more eligible bachelor(ette) of formula one. max got a kick out of seeing that when he read in on the way to the track. single, huh? that was news to him. not while you were tangled up in max's love like a spiderweb.

"do you want it off, sir?" you asked as you played with the hem. he had to admit, but up close, he sort of liked the t-shirt. the pink looked good on you. but he liked what was under it even more. men could thirst all they want, but none of them could have you.

not while max was still breathing. he pressed his face up against your middle, he sighed, "yeah, take it off. i want to see everything." everything that belongs to me. the unspoken words. he helped you get the shirt off.

he admired your body, dressed in cotton panties and a sports bra with thick straps. he licked his lips as he went back to kissing your stomach before you ended up on the bed next to him. you helped him out of his clothes just as he did for you. his lips found your heated skin and you arched your back a little at the feeling. it excited you.

"please, sir." you said as his large hands roamed your body, it left you feeling excited all over and touched you. you felt like heaven under his palms you moaned into another heated kiss and let him touch you as he so desired.

"you're perfect for me." he said as he kissed your neck, "perfect in ways i can't even put words to. you remind me of such beauty that it would be a crime for me to deny myself your warmth." he looked at you with those blue eyes, they read so much as he held you tightly, "that's why i want you to win, win, win. when they doubted you, i never did. and i'll continue to never doubt you. i want them to wipe those grins off their faces and see what you are a threat on the track."

you felt your heart flutter as you said, "oh max." before you pulled him into another hot kiss. when he pulled away, he got you onto your back and admired the strength in your back. he licked his lips and you could feel his hot gaze.

"quite the beauty." he said softly before he started to put those strong hands to work. you moaned into the covers and arched your back when he rubbed the skin. he groaned a little bit, his cock twitched at full attention as he massaged your body, "but you need to relax. i know, i want you at your best. but you can't be so wound up. it'll only make you a worse driver." he leaned into your and whispered in your ears, "i know you want to defeat them, make them whimper." his voice hot against your ear.

you whined, "please, max. sir!" you arched your back a little bit, or at least tried to. but he kept you pinned to the bed and continued to rub at your skin.

"i'd do anything to make you win." he said quietly, "i know you're my champion." he moved down your back and you whimpered when he hit spots that made your eyes roll back a little. you looked cute squirming like that. under him beautifully.'

you gasped when he eventually slipped two fingers inside of your soaked pussy and thrusted them slowly as he held you by the small of your back onto the bed. you gasped and arched your back with sexual want as he fingered you. you buried your face into the covers and whined, "max!"

it was music to his ears, he loved it. he loved you. you didn't know how many rules max had to bend for you. he was painfully committed to you, he adored you in ways that he could never say with words. you whined a little bit as he fingered you and he felt the heat in his belly as he played with your pussy.

"there we go. nice and relaxed, perfect for the upcoming race. i know you'll be a good girl for me. right? you'll race perfectly and then we'll come back to this hotel room with more points under your belt and i'll fuck you right up against the window. let all of las vegas see their weekend's star." his voice was filthy, tinged with a heated want. his cock was painfully hard.

he fingered you for a little while long before he pulled out the digits and licked the wetness off of them. but you weren't going to go without for long, not on max's watch. soon he was behind you, with your hips raised as he sank his cock into you.

the future champion felt good around his cock, beautiful in a way that he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. you felt like heaven as he started to rock his hips against you.

he knew you were the best, you were always the best. almost a perfect season, except for a few hiccups here and there. but, those were all ironed out. now he had big hopes for your future racing. racing with his team. he wanted to see you in the lion logo for years to come. and when your eventual retirement came, you'd be working alongside him as his wife. even carrying his last name couldn't keep you away from the track and max would be a fool to force you away from it (except for maybe nine months). he continued to move against you, he watched your ass bounce from his movements as he fucked you.

"shit, max." you whined. you wanted to win so badly, you wanted to be the world champion. you wanted to stick it in the faces of those who doubted you. other drivers, other teams, even your own father. who would have preferred you married a driver rather than be on. but max saw the future in your eyes, you'd be the world champion. and you believed in max. even when he was fucking you with a feverish pace that left you seeing stars and panting into the covers.

max kissed your back as he moved against you. he felt the heat through his body as he worked his cock inside of you. he felt the swell of affection towards you, he felt the heat course through his body. he needed you deeply, he needed you in ways that he never needed another.

"you're insatiable." you sighed as you felt yourself get fucked further into the bed. you gasped a little deeper into the covers as the two of you moved together. you felt the hammering in your chest.

"you feel amazing. i can't help myself." max groaned as he battered your sweet pussy with an insatiable want. he couldn't help himself, that was the god's honest truth. he yearned for you in deeper ways, he wanted to be connected to you in every way he could.

"please, max. i can't get enough of this. you feel so good, you know how to make me good." you groaned through the heat through your body. you pleasure coursed through your body, this was amazing. it was always amazing to be with him. especially when max combed his fingers through your hair and he continued to move against you with a heated want.

"you feel amazing in return, beautiful. my treasure. something i got out of the rough, shined you to your full potential." he hissed through a tense jaw as he continued to fuck you. you moved against him quickly and it made him gasp for more.

max licked his dry lips. the pleasure coursed through his body, it was a throb in his head as he thrusted up against you. he tensed up for a moment when he felt the heat only grow in his core. he really couldn't help himself. he knew that this wasn't exactly the sanest thing to do, fuck a his driver. but when a figure like yours and a winning streak that left him hot and bothered. it would a crime not to claim you as his. you wore his hickies under your collar and his logo over your heart. you were undeniable. you made racing fun for him.

he kissed you back once more, his pace started to stagger. the heat continued to fuel his body. he could hear your heated pants as you felt close to your orgasm. he held onto you tightly and fucked you through a powerful climax.

"i don't want anyone else." you panted in the heat of pleasure. you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed, your hands curled in the sheets as you muttered curses under your breath in your mother tongue.

max continued his heavy thrusts and came inside of you. he slowed his pace to a stop and kissed your back. he whispered sweet nothings against you before he pulled out slowly. you both laid out beside one another and he pulled you into his grasp.

he kissed your heated cheeks and sighed contently against your skin, "there, ready for the weekend?" he asked.

you pulled away to look at his flushed expression. blissed out from sexual heat, you gave him a small smile as you said, "well, if you keep the orgasms coming. i'll be more than happy to widen the points gap." then yelped when he got you onto your back. his heavy kisses soon trailed down heated skin.

you decided right then and there that you got very lucky in vegas.

-

a few weeks later in abu dhabi, you hoisted your final trophy of the season over your head. you were damn near tears as you claimed another victory. like you did in las vegas, then qatar and finally abu dhabi. max felt tears in his eyes as if he was winning the victory too.

you became the best, just like max promised. his driver, his star, his champion.... his future wife. <3

[yapperblog]

Part 2 of cafe worker!Joost x fem!reader

Part 1

Tags: smut, making out, semi-public, handjob, blowjob.

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

You feel nervous walking down the same path you always take. Why are you nervous? There was usually a feeling of excitement to unwind, to see the sexy Internet Cafe employee – stifling your giggles who will he scold for breathing too loud this time. But now your palms are sweaty the closer you get to that familiar door.

After your first hookup with Joost, you haven't talked much. You got busy with work, and when you were able to visit the Internet Cafe, he seemed to be busier than usual, new customers keep flooding in. You would catch him for a couple of minutes of casual conversation by his desk, like he hasn't rearranged your guts in this same place. He would also come up to you ask about your day, the first time he did it, it made you blush furiously not having expected it from him. Other than that, you were short with each other and the timing wasn't right. Plus it has been almost a week since your last visit, probably the longest you haven't been in that place. So, all those thoughts piled on top of each other, you were feeling extra anxious to see him.

Today however you were determined to have a proper conversation. You are down to keep it casual, if he doesn't want anything serious, but you need clarity – it has been driving you crazy not knowing what he thinks about that night, does he regret it, does he want anything more?

Once again, you open the door, familiar sounds and smell greeting you, as well as a pair of blue eyes lingering in your direction. Joost smiles at you, as you come over to his desk.

"Hi you." he says, still smiling.

"Hi." It throws you off how cheerful he is, the usual scowl nowhere to be found.

"Haven't seen you in a while." his attention is still fully on you, on a normal fay by that time he was already back to typing on the computer. "Thought you went to the competitors. Maybe some other Internet Cafe has opened up." he tries to joke.

You stare at him silently and burst out laughing, the previous tension and anxiety simmering down. Maybe he is in the same mood to figure things out between you finally.

"I wouldn't dare." you lean in closer over the desk.

"That's right." he doesn't look away, matching your eye contact.

You reach for your purse to get the cash for the computer, but he stops you. "It's on the house today. Loyal customer and all that."

You look shocked at him, "You don't have to do that, but thank you." you mumble, a blush creeping up your cheeks again. He seems really happy to see you again. "All I had to do was the bang the employee? Should have done that sooner." you whisper to him making sure it is only for his ears.

"Shut up." he barks a laugh. "First computer on the second row is yours." he points in the direction of it.

"Wait, how does she get to use it for free?" a customer who just walked in behind you asks.

"None of your business." Joost is back to his usual demeanour, his eyes a reflection of being bored of the customer. "How can I help you?" he asks the guy.

You have finished the most important work you needed to do, looking up at the clock, you notice it is past midnight already, most of the customers went home, there is only you, Joost and a couple sharing a computer on the opposite side.

"Sir?" you call out in Joost's direction. "There is something wrong with this computer, can you check?"

His head immediately turns in your direction. "Um, sure." he walks up to you.

You point at the error which popped up. You know how to fix it yourself, and from the look he gives you, you are sure he knows that too. But plays along, catching up to your game. "Yes, let me check." he moves from standing next to you to reaching over behind you for the mouse and keyboard. His hand is covering the mouse over your hand, his skin feels starching hot on yours. His breath close to your ear, your stomach tightens over the simple close proximity to him.

"You are so good at this." you tell him, your voice innocent.

"Am I?"

"Yeah." you turn to face him, but he already fixed it and straightens up, leaving you so lonely.

"Thank you." your voice is quiet.

You finish the rest of your work and notice the couple has left. After waiting a couple more minutes to check if no one else comes in, you stand up and head towards Joost's desk. He is busy typing away, you linger next to him, when he finally looks up.

"Can we talk?" you ask tentatively.

He looks around the room, noticing it's just you left.

"Sure." he gives you his full attention now. "What happened?"

"Well. Nothing really, but that is the problem." you say not looking at him yet, mindlessly moving the things around at the top of his desk. "I know we don't each other yet, maybe the hookup meant nothing to you." you continue, he tries to interrupt, but you motion for him to wait. "But I would like to get to know you, move things forward. I do care about you more than just random sex, but I can't tell if you feel the same about me. You are kind of hard to read." you finally look up at him. He is looking at you intently, listening carefully to your confession.

The silence falls heavily between you, it weighs on you. Did you read this situation completely wrong, does have want nothing to do with you, before you can spiral any further, you hear his voice. "I also want to get to know you. Sorry if I left you in the unknown, I didn't mean that. I also didn't know if you want anything more. I was also so busy here, I am sorry." he says. "When you didn't come on your usual day, your usual hours-"

"You notice when I usually come here?"

"Ofcourse." he meets your eyes.

"I would love to ask you out on a date." he confesses. "Would- Would you go on a date with me?" he is also nervous, like you. It makes your heart melt.

"Yes."

Joost's gaze softened, his eyes roaming over your face with a mix of tenderness and barely concealed desire. You walk around the desk, his eyes following your every move, he starts to stand up, but you push on his shoulder to keep him sitting down. You stand in between his legs and reach out to fix his hair, brushing the fallen out of place strands. You notice the dark circles under his eyes, he works so much. Your hand slips lower, tracing his cheekbone, his skin warm under your palm. He nuzzles closer to you, his eyes darken, not used to such tender touches, but unable to tear himself away from the way you looked at him.

"Is this okay?" you ask him. So careful, the time feels like it has slowed down between you two. A contrast between how the first time went. "Yes."

You move to sit on his lap, he lets you, wrapping his hand around your waist, settling you in more comfortable, as he shifts under you.

"I really thought I might never see you again." he confesses, his voice barely audible, but you hear him.

Reaching up, you let your fingers graze the stubble on his jaw, caressing his cheek as you hold his gaze. “Kiss me, Joost,” you whisper, your voice a soft, desperate invitation.

Without another word, he closes the distance, his lips finding yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. There is no urgency, only a steady, deliberate affection that conveys every unspoken emotion he’d held back. His kiss is soft and careful, full of warmth, he is tentative, but you lead him, showing you want him as much.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you both share a quiet, contented breath, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. But the tenderness only fuels the lingering desire that had simmered between you both, and with a sudden burst of confidence, you grasp the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to you.

This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync as the restraint melted away, giving way to something more fervent, the Joost who likes to take control shining again. His hands grab your waist even harder, pulling you closer, his fingers splaying against your back. The gentle intimacy turns heated, your mouths exploring, you open your mouth, letting his tongue tease yours. You can feel his breath hitch as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, he groans against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try to pull away, but he chases you leaning in, not ready to separate yet, "Come here" his voice is low, breathless too, as he catches your lips in a kiss again. His hands slid down to the small of your back, then lower, gripping your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands roam over your body, sliding along your curves, his touch sends shivers down your spine, like it's the first time being alone in this room again. However this time you are sure he wants you as much as you want him. You gasp against his mouth, a sound that turns into a soft moan, each sound coming from you pushing him closer to the edge of his composure. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring, tasting. Every brush of his tongue against yours sent a surge of heat pooling between your legs, each movement building the need that pulsed through you.

Joost shifts under you, and you feel his hardness pressing against you, undeniable. Your lips begin to wander, trailing a path from his mouth to his jaw, where you lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses that made him shudder under your touch. You can feel the subtle stubble against your lips, the warmth radiating from his skin as you move lower, planting slow, lingering kisses along his neck, tasting the faint hint of his cologne mixed with his natural scent. Paying extra attention to the Lola Bunny tattoo on his neck, you hope to become friends with her and see her more often.

Each kiss seems to draw a deeper, ragged breath from him, his chest rising and falling as he leans into every touch, unable to hold back the quiet sounds of pleasure escaping his lips. You find it intoxicating, the sound you are able to pull from him. You let your hands roam freely, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, fingers tracing down the curves of his chest. His pulse beats beneath your touch, quickening with each passing second. He swallows hard, his breathing growing heavier as you continued, savoring every inch of him.

"You are driving me crazy." he says, as you continue to kiss along his sensitive spot.

"You look so good like this." your words go straight to his dick. "I can't believe I finally get to have you like this."

"Fuck, baby. Don't say shit like this, I might just cum in my pants." he confesses tilting his head back, giving you even more access, closing his eyes, clearly enjoying your actions.

"Maybe I would like that." you let your fingers slide down his torso, tracing every line and curve of his body with deliberate, teasing slowness.

"What? Me cuming my pants?" his opens his eyes to look at you. You look up at him grinning, your hand finally reaches the waistband of his boxers, and you press your palm against him. "You are evil."

"You don't like that?" you remove your hand from him.

"Nonono." he repeats, putting your hand back right where it was. "I do." his breath hitches, a deep, guttural sound escaping his throat as he instinctively pushes into your touch, his fingers digging into your waist.

"I am enjoying myself too." you murmur, palming him gently, feeling his arousal grow beneath your hand, hardening with each brush of your fingers. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Joost. I wanted to know how you’d feel like this,” you admit, voice a mix of admiration and desire.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer, his breathing growing heavier as he looses himself in every touch, every word you murmur against him. "More, please." he pleads, looking in the direction of the door. The cafe is still open to the public. It has been a quieter night than usual, but there is still a possibility someone might stumble in, but he is ready for the gamble, knowing you are too.

"God… that feels so good,” he gasps, as he looks, his expression a mixture of awe and arousal. His hands roam up and down your back, and you can feel the effect of every touch, every word, as his breathing grows heavier. "You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough as he presses a kiss to your temple, his words urge you to move your hand around his cock faster, encouraging every word. “Been wanting this… wanting you… for so damn long.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as he speaks, his voice shaky, every word spilling out in a way that only fueled the fire between you.

"Seeing that guy ask you out,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear, “it drove me crazy. Couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kill him for touching you” He pauses, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze raw, vulnerable, every wall he’d built around himself now shattered. “I’ve wanted you like this… needed you like this… for so long.”

Hearing him say it out loud, the desire intertwined in every syllable, makes your head spin. Feeling he is fully hard under you now, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him, his mouth falling open slightly at the realisation what you are doing for him. You maintain eye contact with him, as you feel the carpet dig into your knees, but you don't care, not when he looks at you like this.

"Fuck... you don't have to." he says, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I want to." you say, and reach for his belt. "Do you want to?"

"Yes." he says it way too quick and it makes you giggle. He helps you undo the belt, lifting his hips to take off his pants.

You palm him through his underwear again, enjoying the delicious moan from him. You motion for him to take them off and he does. "Good boy." you purr and you swear you can see an actual sparkle in his eyes. Who would have thought the mean Internet Cafe employee, who everyone is so scared of, would be melting under your palm at a few words of praise. His cock jumps free from the confines of his boxers, but you don't give it the attention it craves so much. Not yet. Your hands drift up, playing with the hem of his shirt, your nails grazing his stomach lightly, sending a wave of heat coursing through his veins. A sharp exhale escapes him before he can stop it, his muscles tensing under your touch.

After feeling that you've teased him enough, you take his dick in your hands, the tip an angry shade of red, pre-cum spilling from the anticipation. Mixing it with your spit, you start to stroke him. You pay attention to alternating in pressure, swiping your thumb over his tip every time you passed it. Then you nuzzle against it, pressing soft, lingering kisses along the side, your warm breath sending another shudder through him. You are savoring every inch before you begin. Only then your lips part, and you finally take him in. The first flick of your tongue sends a sharp jolt of pleasure up his spine. He has to grip the desk, not to push his hips. Your lips wrap around him, slow and firm, dragging along his length with precision.

"Feels so good." he borderline whines looking down at you. "Keep going please." his hands find the back of your head, not pushing, just wanting to feel you.

Your tongue glides firmly along the underside, tracing every vein, your movements deliberate as you circle the tip before taking him in your mouth again, your lips stretching around his girth. The lewd sound of your lips smacking around you loud in the empty room, making his stomach tighten. You look up at him innocently, as you take more and more of him, your warm and wet mouth mixed with the view makes him almost lose his mind and cum on the spot. He has to lean his head back and concentrate not to end it too soon.

You are however relentless—taking him deeper each time, your spit slicking every inch of him. You bob your head with a slow, steady rhythm, a mix of suction and slippery, messy tongue work that makes his breath stutter.

Suddenly there is a noise of a door opening. His hand on your head gripping your hair, motioning for you to stop. You do, still with his cock in your mouth, you feel him sit up straighter, fixing his hair. There are footsteps coming closer, but luckily they can't see you from your position under the desk.

"Hello, can I print out a few things? Is there a working printer?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

Joost clears his throat. "Hello, yes. It's over there. How many copies?" his voice trying to hide the fact that your soft mouth is still wrapped around his length cockwarming him. The customer goes on a long tangent telling a story how the past few places had trouble with printing and he is walking all around town trying to make a copy of a document. Joost hums in approval listening to his story, one of his hands still wrapped tightly on your hair, making sure you don't get an idea of teasing him.

The customer walks over to the printer. "Call if you need any help." Joost tells him. You hope the customer can do it on his own.

As the footsteps grow quieter and further away, Joost releases his hand from your hair. You move away from him as quietly as possible, leaning your head on his thigh. He looks down at you, pressing a finger to his slips motioning for you to stay quiet and you nod.

You can hear the printer beeping and the customer settling in behind the computer. After awhile you start to get bored, as Joost got back to typing on the keyboard, probably pretending to work not to give away what was happening before. You start to press soft kisses along his thigh. He doesn't stop you, so you continue doing it almost with no sound, the buzz of the printer also helping to hide any noise. You get bolder and bite him, although not hard enough to produce the noise that comes out of him – too loud for how light the bite was. You lick over the spot, he looks down at you with raised eyebrows and you smile apologetically.

"Everything ok?" the customer asks.

"Oh. Yeah, all good." Joost replies. His voice shaky. "Just, um, you know, looking at prices. They seem to bite for real nowadays." the customer laughs at that and agrees. The printing noise continues.

You have to cover your mouth not to laugh at him too. After giving him a few minutes to recover, you continue pressing kisses along his thigh, inching closer to his neglected cock. He stiffens in his seat, but doesn't stop you, so you go further. You ghost your lips over the sensitive skin along his shaft, licking at the tip. His grip tightens over the mouse. You take him in your mouth, building a slow rhythm, not swallowing him too deep to avoid the noise, but enough to tease him. His breathing grows heavier and his big hand finds the back of your head again, his fingers weaving through your hair.

"Fuck. Stop stop." you hear him whisper quietly.

"All done?" you hear Joost say.

"Yep. Thank you so much." the customer replies. "Are you...alright?" he asks tentatively after a pause.

"Yes, I am totally fine. Tired probably. A long shift." he says with no waver in his voice, which makes the guy believe it, not wanting to ask any more questions.

The customer pays and you hear him leave.

"Shit." Joost exhales, his body relaxing. You are also glad he is finally gone. "You little devil." he looks down at you again. He brings you up from under the table and leans down to meet you halfway for a kiss. He groans still tasting himself on your mouth, he tilts your head to deepen the kiss, his cock twitching when you reach out to touch it. You break the kiss, "So sensitive." you whisper against his mouth.

"Get back to work." he leaves one last kiss on your lips and you take your place between his legs. There is a sense of urgency in the air, hoping no one else comes in.

You spit on his tip again, slow and deliberate, watching the saliva trail down before you gather it with your tongue and take him in your mouth once more. You deepen the rhythm, your mouth molding around him, your cheeks hollowing as you suck with more urgency, a wet, obscene symphony filling the space beneath the desk. The slick sounds grow louder, more obscene, as spit pools and dribbles from the corners of your mouth, coating his length in a messy sheen.

You take him to the base, your throat clenching around him, a loud moan leaving his lips, before you pull back, eyes fluttering your breath labored. You let another thick strand of spit fall, your fingers smoothing it down as you stroke him with both hands, your grip greedy, insatiable. Then go back in, your nails digging lightly into his thigh, steadying yourself, like you're getting lost in it. You feel yourself get wet, your clit pulsing steadily, listening to his moans, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure, his heavy hand on the back of your head.

"You like it, huh?" he asks, his chest heaving up and down. You hum around him, the vibrations sending an additional wave of pleasure for him. "So pretty on your knees for me." he brushes away a tear, which falls down your cheek.

He presses you down just a little more. "Can I do this?" he asks and you moan in approval, nodding. Your throat tightens as he pushes you deeper, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He keeps you there for a moment, his eyes closing in pleasure, "Fuck.." he exhales and lets go off you.

You wrap your hand around his slick length. Your strokes are slow, loud, your fingers working him with a deliberate pace. Looking up at him from under the desk, you look utterly wrecked—lips swollen and slick, spit trailing down your chin, eyes glassy and dark with hunger. He thinks you look like a dream, he is already planning the date in the back of his head, he wants to wake up next to you, he even imagines growing old with you, which he never did before. You pant softly, your breath shaky, as both hands work him with slow, messy strokes, your fingers coated in the evidence of your own devotion.

His thighs tremble as you keep stroking, your grip firm, fingers gliding over his slick length with a slow, almost lazy confidence. His breath is uneven, hot, moans slipping past his lips, same as your own, as if you are lost in the act itself, dazed by the sensation of having him in your hands. Your palm twists just right as you drag it up and down. Your eyes stay locked on his, a smirk on your pretty face. You lick over his tip and wrap your lips around him, sucking, bobbing your head up and down.

His body tenses as your throat tightens around him, your free hand rolling his balls in your palm as you move up and down with an unrelenting pace. Your movements are fast, ruthless, each descent pushing him deeper into your throat. His moans turn breathier, more frantic. Your tongue presses against the underside, rubbing against that sensitive spot as your lips stretch around his girth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, spit dripping from your chin, but you don't stop determined to take him to completion.

His head tips back, mouth falling open in a loud moan as his hips jerk forward involuntarily. Pleasure crashes over him like a tidal wave, blinding, unstoppable. His muscles go taut, as he cums deep inside you, and you moan around him, swallowing greedily as if you're desperate for every last drop. The thick warmth shoots down your throat, and you take it all effortlessly, your lips sealed tight, sucking him through every wave.

You take your mouth off of him, your own breathing heavy. You leave a few more kisses on his thigh, helping him come back to his senses.

"That was... incredible. You are incredible." he says, pulling you back onto his lap. He takes a tissue from his desk and wipes gently at your lips.

You lay your head on his shoulder, as he puts his pants back on and wraps his hands around you. "Can I take you home? My shift ends soon." he asks carefully, nervously.

You lift your head looking up at him. "Yes."

He did take you home and fucked you until you couldn't take his touch anymore, his attention fixated on your pleasure alone. And you kept coming back to his place, months later it becoming a part of you, as much as it is for him. Your lives gradually intertwining more and more, learning how to be the best for each other.

You hear your alarm clock go off, reaching out to turn it off. Joost groans beside you, he only recently came back home after his shift, but it is already time for you to start getting ready for work. You feel his arm wrap tighter around you, his chest pressed tight around your back, as if he could be any closer to you.

"I need to get up, Joost." you try to peal yourself off of him.

"Just 5 more minutes, please." he feels like he hasn't gotten enough of you yet. He always feels so cold without you in his bed. He can't even remember how his life was without you in it. Your warmth seems to have fix everything.

He nuzzles closer to you, burying his head into your neck. You turn in his embrace, kissing him slowly, he immediately reacts and returns the kiss.

"How soon do you have to leave at the latest?" he asks.

"We have like.. 10 minutes max." you say. You really can't be late again. It is always the same with him when it is a night shift for him – he comes back late, you have to leave early. He wants to cuddle for 5 more minutes, which turns into something more, but you don't complain, you can't get enough of him too.

"Perfect." you feel him smile against your neck.

[samiferboy]

flicker back

inspired by @metztlilix's post:

anyway yeah huge fan of the hc Sam killed himself multiple times and Lucifer kept bringing him back in s5 I also think we should have gotten some scenes of Lucifer cradling Sam like a child in a pool of blood and gore while whispering “it’ll never end.” plus more hallucination-coercions of trying to get him to say yes but like in a toxic manipulative way coated in sugar. yk.

Rating: Mature Warnings: SUICIDE like lots of suicide, blood, mild gore Pairing: Samifer (sort of, lowkey) Other tags: s5e3: free to be you and me, heaven, dreams/memories, persuasion, attempted manipulation Word count: 4,200

"I'll just bring you back." Lucifer makes good on a promise. Then he does it again. And again. And again.

(please be nice to me im literally so anxious LOLLL kms)

Sam comes to with a jolt. He's breathing heavily, like he'd just been running, but there's no danger. He's laying in a field, staring up at the sky, sunny and freckled with clouds. Perfect temperature. No flies or mosquitos. Songbirds twittering in the trees surrounding the grass.

His heart calms down after about thirty seconds of nothing. Tentatively, he plants his hands on the ground and heaves himself to his feet.

In front of him is a path, a dirt path spotted with stones and roots and patches of grass. He glances around, searching for clues; surely there had to be something going on. He had no memory of getting here, after all. No memory at all, actually, except for…

His face falls. Blood. No escape. No reprieve. That was the last thing in his head.

I'm dreaming, he decides. At least this was a nice dream, a comedown after a night of pain. With that in his head, he walks down the path, enjoying the summer day. He picks out a few memorable bird songs, eyes some grasshoppers crak-crak-ing across the field, and just…relaxes.

He walks through the field, then into a forest. More birds chirp and squirrels chatter. A chipmunk runs across his path, stops and eyes him, then approaches him. Childlike joy spreads across his face and he kneels to look closer at the animal, but doesn't dare to reach out for it. The chipmunk bobs its little head, blinking at him, getting barely a foot away from him, but when he shifts, it runs off, chittering as it leaves.

Smiling, Sam stands back up. But then his smile fades; any minute now, Dean and Dad are gonna yell for him to catch up so they can hunt the -

He freezes. Dean and Dad are here?

Then he realizes that this isn't just a dream, it's a memory. It all floods back to him, being a child hunting through the woods with his father and brother on the trail of some monster, how he got distracted by all the animals, his delight when a chipmunk took interest in him. He couldn't have been any older than eight or nine.

Bushes rustle ahead of him and he stands, preparing for John to start lecturing him about getting distracted and falling behind and aren't you taking this seriously, you know it's dangerous, but it's not John who walks out. No, Sam's never seen this man before in his life, but he approaches Sam with a kind of patient, rueful smile.

"Good, it didn't take me long to find you," he says. "I'm just naturally drawn to you. I can sense you, sort of, at least up here. Now, come on, I am not welcome around these parts."

"Uh…who are you?" Sam asks cautiously, stepping backwards, patting for a gun and finding nothing.

The man tilts his head. "You don't…? Ah, must be a side effect." He looks sad, regretful. "We know each other, Sam. I know you very well, in fact. I need you to come with me."

"Come with you where? Are you an angel? What do you want?" Sam asks, retreating further. Something about the man reverberates power in the same way angels did, but there was something different about him. Something…cold.

"I am," he says. "And I'm taking you back to Earth."

"Back to - but then - where -"

The man seizes his arm, and then everything turns to black.

****

Blood everywhere. Blood all over Sam's face, it's in his eyes, in his mouth. Blood on the floor around his head, blood on his hands. Its stink sits heavy in his nose and he coughs, exhaling as if that could push it out, and he heaves himself up to a sitting position. He holds a hand to his nose and touches wet, hot blood, but there's no pain. No pain at all, actually. Something slimy and wet is on his forehead and he flicks it off; it lands on the floor in front of him and it's pink and wrinkly and fleshy, almost like -

Sam grabs his head - his hair is matted with blood, but there are no wounds. Not even a scar. Nothing but the slimy bits of brain littering his scalp to indicate he'd ever been hurt. He wipes them off, his stomach churning.

For another moment, he remembers nothing, but then it comes back to him with the force of an oncoming train.

Lucifer.

Terror grips his heart. The fallen angel had just sat there on his bed after pretending to be Jess - fuck, he had held her and kissed her cheek and knowing it was Lucifer made him want to chew the skin of his lips off - and told him very straightforwardly that there was no way out. He would say yes. He will. It's inevitable.

"No," Sam says aloud, as if the angel is there in the empty motel room. "No, I won't."

There's a gun lying on the floor next to him. If he hadn't known before, he certainly knew now that he had just killed himself, that he had gone to heaven, that Lucifer had dragged him back. Just like he promised.

Was it easy, he wondered. Had it been a struggle, or was going to heaven as an angel just as simple as flying into the sky? Lucifer had said it didn't take him long to find him, that they were drawn to each other, sick sick sick, did that mean there was no escape?

Maybe if I run, if I get there and run as fast as I can. But how can I get myself to…?

Sam chews on his nails. I didn't remember Lucifer. But I remembered last night. Maybe if I wait another night, when I die, I'll remember him, and I'll remember to run.

With that grim vow in his head, he crawls into bed and tries to fall asleep, finally does sometime in the dead of night.

****

24 hours later. Sam had laid low, just gone to a grocery store to get some food and coffee, then sat in the motel room trying to think of what to do. How can I kill myself properly was such a darkly humorous idea that had suddenly become his goal. He can't just bring me back forever. I have to run somewhere he won't find me.

He decides to try a few experiments just in case he doesn't remember. In the dream, he had woken wearing the same clothing he'd died in, so he writes "RUN" on a piece of paper and stuffs it in his pocket. He does the same to another piece he plans to keep in his mouth. Just in case dead Sam doesn't remember Lucifer, he writes "DON'T TRUST THE BLOND MAN" on a third piece of paper.

Lastly, he screws a silencer onto the barrel of his gun; didn't want to alert other people in the motel, after all. It was a miracle nobody had moved his body the night before.

He pops the paper into his mouth, tries to get as little saliva on it as possible, then holds the gun to his head. His hand trembles and he thinks about Dean.

He fires.

****

Sam wakes up in a bedroom with a funny feeling in his mouth, but when he feels around with his tongue, there's nothing there. Must not've had enough water before bed.

"Sam! Time for school!" Dad yells from downstairs. Sam brightens and swings his legs out of bed; he liked this school. His teacher was really nice, he had a few friends, and he was getting really good grades. Every night he prayed that Dad would be okay just staying here forever.

Then he looks down; he didn't remember wearing jeans to bed.

Dream, he thinks. Then it comes back to him. Heaven. Lucifer.

Run.

In a flash, he's sprinting out of the room, down the hall, down the stairs, and outside of the house. The road he runs out onto stretches through the neighborhood, but then disappears into trees. He bolts towards them, his feet pounding on the concrete, and when he gets there, he nearly crashes into some huge redwoods.

Right, that time we were hunting a hide-behind in the state park, he remembers. But he doesn't let himself get lost in memories, just follows the path, running. Miraculously - but it does make sense - he doesn't get tired, so he just keeps running. On and on and on, deeper and deeper into the forest.

Just when he thinks he's made it, he's escaped, he's well and truly dead, he runs around a tree and smack into Lucifer, knocking them both over.

"There you are," Lucifer says from the ground, looking at Sam with an unbearable fondness. "You really tried to get away this time."

Sam scrambles away. "Get - get away from me, I'll never say yes to you," he spits out.

Lucifer sighs. "You will," he says. "And you need to be in your body for that. Now, come on."

Sam gets to his feet and bolts again, but he's only been running for a few seconds before Lucifer appears in front of him and grabs his wrist. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I have to do this," Lucifer says, and the world dissolves.

Sam's eyes shoot open and he sits up. His face is coated in blood and bits of skull and brain again, and he wipes it all off his nose and lips and eyelids and forehead. Dammit, he thinks, but he's determined. He will fucking make it happen. Maybe Lucifer will just get too tired of bringing him back, too annoyed, if it's too much of a hassle. Or maybe, just maybe, if he does enough damage to his body, Lucifer won't be able to shove his soul back into it.

This time, he aims the gun right above his pounding heart, waits a beat, and fires.

****

Brrring!

Jostled and bumped by other kids, Sam leaves school clutching his books to his chest. He's halfway to the school bus when he remembers that he's a grown adult and he's in heaven. He drops the books and bolts.

He runs down the street, turns a corner, runs down another, then the street fades into a gravel pathway through the woods. He keeps running, the gravel crunching under his shoes. The gravel path seems to stretch on for miles, so eventually he just turns to the left and starts bushwhacking through the forest, stepping over rocks and sticks, shoving his way through gaps in roots, avoiding prickly plants and poison oak, darting through the undergrowth.

Wings flutter. "Really, Sam?" Lucifer's there, mildly annoyed. "You know, it's not a piece of cake, getting to heaven. There are a lot of angels who really don't want me here."

"You won't have me," Sam says.

Lucifer just rolls his eyes and grabs Sam's arm, and they both fall into darkness.

****

"Look at you. What a mess."

Sam stirs, blinking. There's still blood on his face, and now it's completely soaked his shirt, gray stained with deep, thick red. The gun is gone. Blood has pooled around him on the floor.

A hand combs through his hair and strokes his jawline. "I told you I'd bring you back, Sam. That doesn't mean I wanted to."

Sam tries to get away, but there's an arm around his stomach holding him in place. It's…comforting, actually, he feels comfortable, and it's sickening. All of his instincts say to relax in Lucifer's arms, let him touch his face and hold him, and all of his instincts are wrong.

Lucifer's head rests on his, on his bloody hair. Chin, lips brush his head. This isn't a dream.

"How - how did you g-get here?" Sam croaks.

"You broke your ribs when you shot yourself," Lucifer says. "It broke that sigil Castiel put there. Don't worry, I recreated it, leaving myself out, of course. It was quite rude of him to keep me away from you, but we don't want company."

Sam's heart pumps new blood through his veins, old blood drying on him, sticky and lukewarm, and he itches to take his shirt off, but he can't move his arms very far. Lucifer adjusts his grip and - there's the gun, just off to the right.

"Let me go," he says, knowing Lucifer will refuse.

"You might try to hurt yourself again if I do," Lucifer says. "I can't let you. It breaks my heart, Sam. You'd really rather die - kill yourself - than be with me?"

He genuinely sounds sad, and it fills Sam with anger. "I'd kill myself a thousand times before I'd let you in," Sam snarls.

Lucifer doesn't respond for a while, just strokes his hair. Finally, he says, "It…wouldn't be how you think of it, Sam. You wouldn't be delegated to some tiny corner of your own head. I wouldn't dominate you, force you out, we'll be together inside of you. I'll let you see your brother and your friends, even let you out sometimes so you can talk to them as you. I'll give you everything you want, Sam. What else can I say?" He really truly sounds desperate, genuine pain in his voice.

Sam in- and exhales a deep breath. "No," he says. "Never."

Lucifer's grip had slackened in his little speech. In a flash, Sam reaches out, grabs the gun, aims at his own head, and pulls the trigger.

****

"Sam, this is getting ridiculous."

Sam blinks and rolls over, looking up. He was in bed, comfortable, cozy, with snow falling outside and Dean snoring in the room across from him. But Lucifer stands over him, arms crossed, not pleased.

"You're being quite selfish," Lucifer says. "Heaven drudges up an awful lot of bad memories for me. In case you've forgotten my tragic backstory, my Father and brother forced me into an isolation torture prison for millennia after said brother beat me in a fight. I'm not exactly thrilled to be here."

Sam sits up in bed and scoots away from Lucifer, staring at him. "How - how'd you get here so f -"

"I was with your soul when it departed," Lucifer says patiently. "I was able to follow it. Now, come on, can you promise you won't kill yourself again?"

"No. Just - just leave me here," Sam says, desperation leaking into his voice. "Just let me be dead. I should have died years ago, I should have died before anybody could die because of me. Just let me go. Let me stay here."

"I'm sorry, Sam, but I can only possess you if you're alive in your body," Lucifer says, sounding genuinely regretful. "I'll give you the peace you want, I promise, when we're together. I can create any world you want in your head for you to enjoy, if you want one. I could pull out your happiest memory, make a whole world just about it. Would you like that?"

Sam's stomach turns over; he didn't know one could feel nauseated in heaven. "I'll never be yours," he snaps.

Lucifer sighs and says, "Why don't we talk about this in a more tangible location." He touches Sam's face and the setting dissipates.

****

The whole room smells like blood. Sam raises a hand to wipe some off of his face but his hand is already sticky and red. Dried blood flakes off his wrist, his dry lips, his elbows. His head rests against something soft, and a hand is comfortably rubbing circles onto his hip, another running through his hair.

"You're so beautiful," Lucifer murmurs, enraptured. "Every time I heal you, I see it more and more."

Sam swallows.

"It hurts my feelings, really," Lucifer admits. "I don't know what else to offer you, Sam."

"Nothing," Sam says, his voice shot. "Nothing will get me to say yes to you." He looks around for his gun and doesn't see it. Maybe Lucifer took it away from him. "I told you, I'd kill myself a thousand times. This is my body. I decide what it does."

"It's our body," Lucifer corrects him gently. "You were made for me, just as I was made for you. You were holding onto it for me - for us - and I certainly appreciate how you've taken care of it. But…it's fate, Sam. You're going to say yes to me. Right now we're just counting down the minutes."

Sam's eyes dart around, still looking for the gun. But he has one other option, if he can't find it. "I won't," is all he can say.

"You will. The sooner you accept that, and the sooner you stop killing yourself, the sooner we can just move on from this whole mess," Lucifer says. "Please, Sam. I have a heart now, and you're breaking it. Just let me take care of you, or this will never end."

Sam wipes some blood that threatened to drip into his eyes. "Then it'll never end," he says, and shoves his pocketknife into his neck.

****

"Come on, you and Dad drink it, let me try," Sam urges.

Dean, eighteen and finally looking it, wiggles the beer bottle just out of reach. It's a bright sunny day and they're sitting on a few beach towels halfway up a sand dune. "No way, Sammy, Dad'll kill me if he finds out I let you drink. You're underage."

"So are you!"

"Only by three years. And hey, I can vote and buy cigarettes and join the army, I should be able to drink, too," Dean says, and drinks from the bottle. "You know?"

Sam folds his arms. "Well, if you're not gonna let me try it, can you at least not drink in front of me?"

Dean opens his mouth, then closes it, looking sly. "You know what? You can have it. But," he adds at Sam's victorious expression, "you have to drink the whole thing."

Sam scoffs; he's seen Dean and Dad knock back half a bottle at once before, and Dean didn't even tell him to chug it, he can totally drink the whole thing. Dean hands him the bottle and he takes an eager swig - and chokes.

"Yuck!" Sam gags, spitting. "That's gross! How can you drink that stuff?"

"Hey, what'd I tell you? You have to drink the whole bottle," says Dean, snickering. "That's the rule."

"But it's disgusting!"

"I knew you'd hate it, that's why I didn't give it to you," Dean says with a grin. "Finish the bottle, party animal. But, uh, if Dad asks, I did not give it to you."

Sam shoots Dean a scowl, then takes another drink of the beer and sticks his tongue out. "I'm gonna tell Dad you told me to drink the whole bottle."

"Then I'll tell Dad about that magazine you think I don't know about."

Sam's eyes go wide and he turns beet red. "B - y - th - but - the - you - no, no, no, you can't -"

"Whoa, relax, relax, I'm kidding," Dean says quickly, holding up his hands. "It's fine, I was checkin' out Playboy when I was fourteen. But, uh. Look, it's fine by me if you swing that way. Nothing wrong with it. And I really don't think Dad would care, either, he had a buddy in the army who was kind of a fruit, he told me."

Sam stares at him, relief flooding him from head to toe. "You - you really don't care that I…"

Dean shakes his head. "Nope. S' not like it's hurting anyone." He reaches out and ruffles Sam's hair. "But I'd, uh, keep it quiet outside of the two of us, you know? Lotta folks aren't cool about that sort of thing."

Sam nods firmly. "I know. I haven't told anyone," he says, and smiles. "Thanks, Dean."

"Yup. Gimme that." Dean snatches the beer bottle from Sam's hand and takes a long drink, then hands it back to him. "Rest is for you. You wanna swim?"

"Yeah!"

They take off their shirts and run down the steep sand dune, nearly falling on top of each other, and run right into the ocean. It's colder than they thought and both boys are immediately complaining about the temperature. Dean shoves Sam's head under for a few seconds, so when Sam resurfaces, gasping, he splashes a ton of water at Dean, who yelps and splashes Sam right back. After a minute, Sam heads back to shore, giving Dean the finger when he calls him a pussy, and begins the climb back up the sand dune.

Up at the top, Sam is hot again, and he flops down onto the beach towel, dripping water everywhere. He dries off his hands and grabs for his backpack, searching for a book, but -

Why do his hands look so weird? They look…old.

"Are you having fun?"

Sam jolts and turns around. In a heartbeat, he's twenty-five, not fourteen, and he recognizes the man who sits down next to him.

"I can do this, you know," Lucifer says, gesturing at the beach. "I can let you live in your best memories when we're in your body together. I didn't realize your brother accepting you was such a big moment…but it makes sense."

Sam is silent - mad at Lucifer, hating how his angel can just watch his memories like this, but also…

He wiggles his toes in the sand. It feels so real.

"I would have this, with you?" he asks.

Lucifer's eyes brighten. "You could live through any memory for as long as you want, Sam," he promises. "You can relive any happy moment. I could make new ones, too. You could live in them and forget about everything else."

Sam thinks about blood and pain and Dean's disappointed face and the death and destruction he had brought - Lucifer had brought. He thinks about this day at the beach, so many years ago now. He thinks about every other moment in his life he loved. He thinks, guiltily, that it really would be nice to just…forget. Forget about all of it. Lose himself in this.

"Can I take you back now?" Lucifer asks gently. "Can we talk?"

Sam nods, and the beach fades.

****

The stink of blood seems to have permanently lodged itself in Sam's nose. It's all he can smell. He moves his hand and touches a pool of the stuff. He remembers, in flickers, drinking his own blood when he was at his most desperate. Wonders how it tastes now.

Lucifer holds him, cradles him. "I cleaned you up this time," he says, brushing hair out of Sam's face; indeed, it's no longer matted with blood. "I wanted to see your face. I want to see you smile again, like you did in that memory."

Sam's mouth is a straight line. He's sure his pocket knife is gone along with the gun.

"I have one more thing to show you," Lucifer says, stroking Sam's jaw, down to his neck, hovering over his chest. "I can give this to you, too."

Sam gasps - this was brand new. Sheer ecstasy, sheer bliss, runs through every vein and artery, lighting up his body. He feels like he's floating, powerful jolts of concentrated joy sending currents up and down his limbs, culminating in the pit of his stomach, like - fuck. He flushes, suddenly hot, suddenly very very turned on, squirming as the feeling settles deep within, as Lucifer's touch turns him inside out.

It feels like it's over as soon as it begins, and he's left panting in Lucifer's lap, hoping and praying he isn't hard. Lucifer is still touching his hair, touching his face, hand on his chest straying down to his stomach, pushing up his shirt, touching his hot skin. "It can all be yours," Lucifer murmurs. "I could give you this whenever you want."

It's getting harder and harder to keep saying no. The promise of relief, of solace, of pleasure, it's overwhelming. Sam arches his back, craning for - something, wanting something.

"That's it, Sam," says Lucifer softly. "Put an end to this. Say yes to me."

Sam remembers why he killed himself in the first place.

He remembers how he got here.

He remembers that first meeting, all of Lucifer's poison.

He touches the blood on the ground.

"No," he says. "Always no. Always."

Lucifer's hands on him clench, then ease. "We'll see about that," he says quietly, sadly, and presses a kiss to Sam's forehead. Then, with the flap of giant wings, he's gone.

Sam exhales. Finally alone. And there - his gun, his pocket knife, all just out of reach from where Lucifer had been holding him.

He picks them up, looks between them. He could do it. He could do it again. Again and again and again. And Lucifer would bring him back every single time.

There was no way out.

-------------------------

if u enjoyed this give it a like and/or a rb tysm <3333

[creedslove]

BETRAYED - PART NINE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: fluff, like, a lot of fluff, implied age gap, mentions of death, and descriptions of a catholic wedding (I just wrote down how they go in my country, but no, it's not *the* wedding you're thinking about) and mentions of smut

A/N: Just one more chapter and we wrap up this story!!! I hope you guys enjoy this one because I know my heart melted while I wrote it!!!

A/N part 2: still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!

3.4k words

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT

One year later

You stood at the altar feeling excitedly but also a little anxious. A bunch of familiar faces stared at you taking in all the details of the ceremony that was about to begin.

You could even spot Pedro among the guests, he looked handsome, as he always did, his hair was a little longer now, making it wilder in a way it made him sexier than before. He noticed your eyes on him and winked, as if he encouraged you in that situation

And that's why being a bridesmaid was so fun. While the focus wasn't necessarily you and your group of bridesmaids, you were all in the spotlight while the bride took long to arrive.

You could practically hear all the thoughts crossing people's minds, how they judged the dresses, the makeups and the hairstyles. It always happened and you wouldn't be any exception, but not that you cared very much about it, as you were so happy for your best friend Nat tying the knot with her dream guy, nothing would bother you at all.

As you felt Pedro's gaze on you, burning your skin, you thought of everything that happened this past year. It didn't even feel real, after you left his home that morning, you never returned. And he kept his word of not coming after you, which was all you needed in order to get your life back on track.

The first thing you did when you got home was to change all the locks to prevent anyone from breaking into your house. It didn't matter if it was Liev, a burglar or Pedro himself. You never wanted to walk into your home, a place you assumed safe and find someone uninvited there. Then, your second part of your action plan was to look for another gym, so you could train without having to change your schedule every single time you didn't want to run into someone in there. You wanted to exercise, to see people, to feel the endorphins flood your body and not step on eggshells all the time. Needless to say, it was a good decision.

Then, you just focused on yourself.

You finally finished your studies, you found a job that made you happier and paid well too. You took short trips here and there, getting to know new places and you also looked at yourself in the mirror and realized you were more beautiful than ever, and that was why you were loving yourself, you took care of yourself and you put yourself in the first place, just like it should've been from the beginning.

You still had feelings for Pedro, of course, but the distance helped manage it, some days you were able to go by without even thinking of him, and others you missed him deeply. You didn't know if his feelings for you changed, but you weren't as close as you once were. However, you weren't estranged either. It was just that your lifestyles got simply too different and your lives took different paths, making it so hard to be around each other.

After Pedro's career took off he became almost impossible to reach - physically at least.

He was already well-known when you two had all that story going on, of course, but now it had reached stratospherical levels. He was a big deal, he was a big celebrity, all your social media was flooded by videos, his interviews and his pictures. You began following his career, from afar, admiring him, how far he'd come, feeling your chest burst with pride every time he was nominated for an award or you saw him walking down a red carpet. It was still disturbing to you to see how much he was harassed by the media, how he couldn't walk down the street without being photographed and how they picked on the whole daddy thing. Sometimes it was a little funny though, seeing him blush and her visibly embarrassed at that. You often chuckled to yourself when you eventually saw his fans writing the sweetest things about him, how they called him their boyfriend or future husband, if only they knew your story, they'd call you crazy for turning him down. Because to them, Pedro was perfect, a prince charming. And to you, he was just a human being, with flaws and qualities, like everyone else.

You two didn't go the whole year without speaking, quite the opposite, your phone would buzz eventually, receiving a text or two from him. And you would often text him as well. Just simple things: birthday messages, wishing each other happy holidays or checking up on each other. Nothing too intimate, but enough to show you still cared and worried about each other.

He watched your stories and liked your pictures, and you did the same. Being there, even if you weren't there anymore. It was confusing, but it worked for a while.

When you realized you were able to see his pictures with fans, co-stars and women you had no idea who they were and your whole body didn't heat up in anxiety and jealousy and your heart didn't drop at your toes, at the mere thought crossing your mind of them being his lay for the night, you knew you were ready to let him in.

Not exactly let him in, you didn't know if he still cared about you like that, or if you would still have anything in common, or if he would even bother becoming your friend again now that he had met some many different people. But you still decided to text him, best case scenario he would reply and you would have a conversation, worst case scenario he would leave you on 'seen' and you would move on with your life, because you lived for yourself now, and not for Pedro.

Of course he replied to your message right away. He smiled big when he read it and couldn't even believe after all that time you were the one engaging in a conversation with him. God knows how many times it took all of his willpower to erase the gigantic texts he wrote you and just drop a 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Birthday, mariposa' he'd promised you he would let you live your life, and just like a butterfly, he let you be free but now you were flying to him again - maybe, that was what he hoped at least, so he allowed himself to daydream.

You'd sent a simple text telling him how much you enjoyed his new series, and if he had time next time he was in town, maybe you could go for drinks. He replied almost immediately, saying he couldn't wait.

And your conversation began.

Slowly, you would text through the day about many things, while he was away and lonely, he told you all about his shooting routine and what he did for fun so far away from home.

You updated him on everything knew in your life, seeing how proud of you and happy he really got. You briefly mentioned you were thinking of learning a second language, to which he quickly suggested Spanish.

But when your uncle died you didn't get a text from him. Instead, Pedro managed to get a short break from filming and hopped on a plane. He wanted to be there for you, it didn't matter to him if he was going to be there as a friend or as a possible boyfriend, he just wanted to hold you while you cried because he knew how important family was to you. He wanted to attend the funeral by your side, to dry your tears and tell you comforting words. And that was exactly what he did.

You couldn't believe your eyes when he showed up there, in black and pulling you into his embrace, which reminded you it used to be your favorite place in the world and at that moment, it became your favorite again.

You had no strength to discuss feelings with him, and he wasn't after that either. He just wanted to try and make that moment a little less miserable for you.

But the moment the funeral service was over, Pedro would have to come back to his work again. He apologized a hundred times for not being able to stay longer with you, but you assured him it was alright, not forgetting to thank him for coming all the way just to be with you.

He said goodbye with one of his warm hugs and a peck on the cheek, that landed way too close to your lips, it didn't matter if it was on purpose or not. The damage had already been done.

From the moment you realized he had left his job - the thing you assumed he loved the most in life - for you without expecting anything in return. That familiar warmth in your chest appeared after months and months of it being dormant. It was hard to deny how much you loved Pedro.

•••

You had always heard horrible stories about women who agreed to becoming bridesmaids and had to deal with the infamous bridezilla. You were sure it wouldn't be Nat's case, but those women were not exaggerating when they said you would have to put a lot of effort, energy and even money to a moment that wasn't even yours.

While all the guests were comfortably sitting down, you along with the other girls and the bestmen had to stand up the whole ceremony. You knew the priest was probably saying beautiful words about love and stuff, as you could see the emotion in some people's eyes and how some of them even sniffed and shed one or two tears, but you were just not paying attention. Church services weren't really your thing, you tried really hard not to get bored, but it was too late, you were already bored.

That's why your eyes scanned the whole place, not really focusing on anything in particular, you just hoped time would go by faster and you wished you would all skip to the reception, because there were other things you wanted to do and mostly other people you wanted to talk to. You looked all over the church decoration and though it looked very beautiful and elegant you thought about how you would never have a wedding in a place like that. Then you watched Nat's wedding dress closely. Of course you'd seen it a couple of times already since the early stages of planning and preparing the wedding, but at that moment it looked different and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if you'd ever get married at all and wear a pretty dress like that. You shook those thoughts away from your mine and looked at the guests absent-mindedly, not watching anything in particular until your eyes locked with Pedro's.

He didn't even blink and sustained your look, he was completely oblivious to a wedding happening just a few feet away from you, as you were really the only thing that mattered to him.

After flying to you for your uncle's funeral, you weren't able to meet again, as he was more and more caught up at work and you also had your own life. So when he got the invitation to the wedding, he didn't think twice before confirming his attendance, though he didn't really care that much about the bride and groom, he was still thankful to them.

You blushed softly and smiled big at him, he wasn't too distant, just a few rows away from the altar, close enough for you to see when he mouthed 'hermosa' making you look down in shyness. You knew Nat and Pedro had seen each other maybe five or six times and the only times she talked to him was to tell him how much her boyfriend - and now husband - loved Mandalorian. So you knew she had only invited him because of you and Pedro had only showed up to the wedding because of you as well. It felt quite good, you had to admit and for that, you even forced yourself to pay attention to the ceremony again.

Once the reception started you thought the fun would start as well, but you were wrong. Now, the bridesmaids duty kept you busy each passing second. First you had to follow the bride and groom to the photo session, then you had to assist the bride to make her big entrance, and after it you had to help her go to the restroom, which was the most chaotic part: four girls helping another lift up layers and layers of cloth in order to be able to pee.

And when you realized, it was already dinner time. As the food was served people stayed at their tables, usually guests were starving after the whole marathon of sitting through a long and tedious ceremony, then endless waiting until the bride and groom showed up.

The whole time you and Pedro exchanged looks and smiles, he even texted you in hopes to talk to you, but you were way too busy to check your phone, at the same time as soon as some guests recognized Pedro, he was bombarded with requests for selfies, autographs and girls throwing themselves at him. And he was way too nice to decline those requests even if it bothered him - though he declined the girls right away.

You thanked the heavens when dinner was finished, you knew the dance floor would be finally open to the guests until you remembered a very tacky wedding custom.

The bride was going to throw the bouquet. You pinched the bridge of your nose in embarrassment, you've always hated that moment, ever since you were a kid and your parents dragged you to relative's weddings.

Just a bunch of women going all savage over a couple of flowers made you cringe to the core, so you stepped aside and waited for the small crowd to gather. You tried to brush it off at the insistence of some people, but when Nat cleared her throat and gave you accusatory eyes, you even tried to argue. But she motioned her head towards Pedro and you saw him waiting for you to get in the small commotion. He had his hands inside his pocket and a dirty smirk, he couldn't wait to see you pick the bouquet, he was sure you'd look gorgeous.

You on the other hand felt embarrassed and awkward to stand there, Nat got in position and showed all the single ladies the bouquet, making them all shout in excitement. She looked at you and winked softly, and you gulped. Oh no, there was only one thing worse than fighting over a bouquet of flowers in front of a crowd of people, and that was definitely receiving the bouquet out of pity.

So when she threw it towards you, you stood still, making absolutely no move and watched it as it flew right past you.

You turned around and saw when two women were almost on the floor, struggling to get the bouquet. Nat frowned at you, confused as to why you didn't get it, you just shrugged at her. You didn't want to get married, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and when you thought you were finally able to do it, the DJ announced it was time for the waltz.

You rolled your eyes, as annoyance spread through your body. It had been hours all you were trying to do was to exchange a couple of words with Pedro, but that seemed impossible.

The guests all gathered around the bride and groom as they showed their rehearsed steps, some people swooning over them but you just looked around, trying to find Pedro, needing to see him and talk to him. But he wasn't there anymore.

Had he gone home? You knew he enjoyed parties, but you weren't sure about wedding parties, especially the ones where he was harassed every five minutes by people who insistently wanted pictures or just goof around a movie star.

But he wouldn't just leave you without saying goodbye, would he? Over the months your relationship became stronger even if you weren't physically close.

You were deep in thought as you felt someone touching your wrist, making you jump a little at the sudden touch and turned around, seeing Pedro standing there.

And he looked good. Very good.

He was wearing a dark suit, all in black. It hung tight to the right places as he looked absolutely like sin. His hair was messy like always and you caught a few gray streaks on his beard and that made you weak at the knees.

You smiled big and held his hand "Pedro! I thought you'd left!"

He raised his eyebrow and chuckled "do you really think I'd sit through a whole wedding and then leave before talking to the only reason why I'm here in the first place?" He held your hand and eyed you up and down, not even hiding how much he appreciated your looks "I don't mean to be one of those bitchy people who come to the party and trash talk it, but when we get married we'll have a lot less church and a lot more party"

Pedro's words stirred something inside of you, even if it was a joke, you felt yourself blushing.

"Too bad it won't happen, I mean, I didn't catch the bouquet so…" you replied in a shy way and made him laugh as well

"Yeah, well, we can figure this out later, right now I'd like to have a dance with the most beautiful girl at the party?" He offered his hand to you, and you hesitated at first

"It depends, Pedro" you saw his confusion, finding it quite amusing

"It depends on what, hermosa?" He questioned curiously

"Where's your plus one?" You saw how he frowned not really getting where you were going

"What plus one, Y/N? I came alone…"

You laughed softly and nodded, taking a step closer and accepting his invitation.

"I was just making sure, you know, I was friends with a guy once and he pulled such a jerk move, where he invited a plus one to a party and ditched her to dance with another girl and ended up taking this other girl home and left his plus one really heartbroken"

A deep shade of crimson spread through his face as he was at a loss of words for a while. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.

"H-he sounds like a real dick" he replied a little self conscious, not sure if you were joking or playing games

"He really was, but I heard he managed to change into a better person and his plus one even forgave him after all"

His smile was wide and the relief in his eyes was visible as he wrapped his arms around your waist and glued your body to his. It was a slow ballad and you wrapped your arms around his neck at the same time you swayed your hips together.

"Thank you for forgiving me, I really missed you" he whispered against your ear, your faces were inches apart and you closed your eyes, his cologne lingering on your skin. You took your hand to the back of his neck, stroking his hair and feeling it softly between your fingers.

"We needed this, Pedro… I guess now we could start things over" you said and welcomed his lips against yours, as they crashed in a needy contact. You moaned lowly at the feel of his tongue against yours. His hands squeezed your waist and if you could get any closer to him, you would have, because you could swear that was not enough.

His kiss was intense and unlike the other times, he wasn't trying to overpower you and make you accept him playing dirty with your hormones, he was kissing you, feeling you and taking you as his. And you wanted it as much as he did.

When you broke the kiss, he nibbled your bottom lip, caressing your cheek and not giving a care in the world if someone filmed or photographed you.

You danced as if there was no tomorrow, as the ballad was over, you danced with Pedro to any kind of songs that came in the playlist, you had fun and when sexier songs came up, you dance even more, loving how you rubbed your body against his and Pedro never spared any neck kiss or groping your body.

By the time you could feel a tent against your ass, you turned to him, kissing his lips again.

"I guess it's time to get out of here, princesa" he whispered into your ear and squeezed your ass. You moaned against his lips as you couldn't agree more.

_____

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did, it was just so easy to write I was really into it. I loved it so much and I can't believe this series is almost over 😞 also, if y'all don't go soft on Pedro now I don't know what to do, LMAO

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Seven

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: I am posting TWO new chapters back-to-back (7 & 8) as they take place at the same time but from multiple POV's. I'd recommend reading chapter 8 as soon as you can after this one, so its fresh in your brain ;)

Chapter Warnings (minor spoilers in the tags...): 18+ MDNI. Soft!Dave York (like, you can't even stand it. Soft Dave needs his own warning). Porn WITH plot (who gave me the right?). All the feelings (I'm sorry). Unprotected P in V. Creampie. Angst! (in MY porn story? who am I?). Infidelity-ish I guess, technically (look these are just 3 idiots in love who don't know what tf they're doing, okay?). Plus probably ever other tag from previous chapters... you know the drill by now for this series.

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board. I really appreciate all your help!

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

You power nap through the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening, thanks to the blackout curtains drawn shut but mostly in large part due to the strenuous activities the three of you had gotten up to just before you’d passed out. You remember your eyes closing involuntarily as you lay half draped over Dave, Marcus snuggled into your back and his own breaths began to even out just as yours did.

Soft lips pressed to your forehead and a light hand brushing over your hair causes you to stir some time later and you wake feeling rested, a satisfied smile playing at your lips as you rouse to consciousness.

“Hi Baby” you murmur into your pillow. You don’t even need to open your eyes to know it’s your husband.

He presses a kiss to your forehead once more and breathes out a whispered “I’m sorry” that makes whatever peacefulness you were reveling in vanish in an instant.

His words are enough to get your eyes to fully open. You stare up at him, brow furrowed in confusion as to what on earth he could possibly have to be sorry about and when your gaze sets on him he’s seated next to you on the side of the bed and looking far too overly dressed in tan khakis and a black polo shirt, the expression on his handsome features substantiating his remorse.

“Where are you going?” You ask, concern laced in your tone as you push yourself up into a seated position. Maybe you all are just going out for a late dinner or something and he was apologizing for having to wake you up from your nap for it, but the frown of his face quickly dispels that theory.

He lets out a sigh and hangs his head slightly. It’s then you notice his hair is wet so he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. “Something came up, at work. An emergency” he clarifies, gaze still fixed to the comforter he’s sitting on rather than looking at you. “Cab’s downstairs already.”

“You have to go?!” You ask, incredulous. Your voice raises maybe a little higher than you should’ve let it, but you were rightly shocked that your husband has to leave you now, on your birthday no less.

“Where are you going?” Dave’s voice immediately floods into the room and you look up to see him wandering into the bedroom, towel around his hips and another around his neck that he’s using to dry his hair.

He must’ve showered just after Marcus, you presume.

“Uh work. Last minute thing just… came up. I um, I’ll try not to be long” Marcus continues, turning back towards you for the last part.

“There’s no one else?” You try, sounding a little pouty, you know, but you really don’t want him to go.

He sighs, taking your hands in his and bringing them up to place a kiss to your knuckles before whispering another “I’m sorry” against them.

“But look why don’t you order dinner, or go downstairs for it even, just have it all billed back to the room and I’ll take care of it later, ok?”

“Ok…” you sigh, eyes cast downward. You feel silly for feeling so emotional, he’s literally spent the last 24 hours at your side giving you the best birthday you’ve ever had and you’re still near tears just because he has to leave you. Marcus has a very important job and you know these things come up from time to time. He’s been dragged away from anniversaries, birthdays, even your cousin's wedding on one occasion but it all came with the territory of being married to a senior Federal Agent and you knew that and had accepted it long ago so you just offer a small nod of your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him right now. You don’t want to make him feel more guilty than he likely already does by seeing the disappointment that’s surely written across your features.

Dave is oddly quiet, too. Still hanging back at the doorway leading into the bedroom you presume as you haven’t heard him moving around. With a sigh Marcus leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder before pushing himself up and off the bed. “I’ll call” he promises. You nod again, forcing a smile to your lips as you finally raise your head to look up at him.

“Hurry back” you playfully scold, reaching a hand out to lightly smack his hip with the back of your hand and he chuckles.

“Happy Birthday Babe” he tells you once more before reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. He sighs, settles his shoulders, drops your hand and finally turns away from you. You sit up in bed and watch as he crosses the room until he reaches the doorway where Dave is still standing there in a towel.

“I’ll um... Yeah, I’ll see ya” is all Marcus offers to him before brushing past him. A few seconds go by and you hear the front door of the room open and then click shut.

Well… now what?

“Are you um… are you hungry?” You ask Dave, suddenly feeling awkward as you bunch the sheet up a little higher under your armpits to ensure you stay covered up. “We could order something again, or even go down to the restaurant to eat if you wanna get out of this room” you shrug.

The room feels suddenly too small for the two of you. Like you shouldn’t be in such close proximity to each other without Marcus present (especially not in the state of undress you’re both in). It’s not that you feel uncomfortable around Dave, more like the opposite, and therein lies your problem. Dave makes you feel… a lot. But discomfort is not one of those feelings. The only thing uncomfortable about being around Dave is probably how comfortable you feel around him now. Like you could just walk across the room to him right now and throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like it’s a habit.

But you can’t. Of course you can’t. Marcus didn’t explicitly implore you not to, but he also didn’t outright give his blessing either. It feels wrong without Marcus here and you think both you and Dave can feel it, the way the energy shifted in the room the moment your husband stepped out of it. You have been alone with Dave before of course, but only once, and with your husband's enthusiastic permission. Insistence, even. Now there’s a sexual tension hanging in the air that makes this massive suite feel suffocating.

Finally after what feels like a moment dragged on far too long, Dave answers. “Should probably get going, right?” he shrugs his shoulders, voicing aloud what you’re both thinking.

You don’t want him to leave. Of course you don’t. But you both know he needs to.

“Yeah, right” your gaze is cast downwards again as your fingers pick at a loose thread in the soft sheet covering you. You suck in a breath, willing for no tears to fall to your cheeks as you begin to feel overwhelmed with loss, with what your evening had become versus what you had managed to conjure it up to be in your fantasies while you were falling asleep just hours earlier.

You had thoughts. A lot of thoughts. Especially after what had inspired earlier, you were ready and willing to experience a lot more of that and you’d told yourself you were going to be brave and honest and adult about it and tell them both exactly what you wanted, but now here you were about to be left alone in this hotel room. Maybe you’d just pack everything up and go home, text Marcus and let him know to meet you back there after work. You didn’t want to sit around this giant reminder of what you were missing out on tonight.

You remain seated in the bed, back against the headboard and arms wrapped around your legs that are bent at the knees in front of you, hugging yourself as Dave wanders around the bedroom getting dressed in fresh clothes and cleaning up all of his belongings, stuffing them back into his overnight bag. You glance at him occasionally as he busies himself packing, eventually moving out of the bedroom and throughout the rest of the suite to gather what’s left.

“Think that’s it” he sighs as he re-enters the bedroom a minute or so later and takes one final glance around to ensure he hasn’t forgotten anything.

“I’ll walk you out” you say, suddenly remembering your manners and Dave manages a small chuckle but ultimately holds up his hand in dismissal.

“Don’t need to get up on my account, I’ll see myself out”

You nod your head, a murmured “ok” leaving your lips as you wrap your arms back around your knees again.

Dave crosses the room over to your side, hesitation in his steps until he finally reaches you. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead and then smiles softly as he pulls away. “Happy Birthday” he tells you. “Hope it was a good one” he adds with a playful wink and your lips instantly spread into a grin across your face, despite your less than happy mood.

“Best one yet” you promise him. It was the truth, after all.

“Goodnight” he finally says, after a long drawn out silence stretches between you and he turns on his heel, exiting the bedroom. A moment later you hear the main door exiting the room open and shut again and just like that, he’s gone, and you’re alone.

Your head falls back down to your knees and you gently shake it back and forth, willing yourself to be strong and not break down to tears like you want to. It was silly, really, but dammit if it didn’t hurt all the same.

With a huff into the empty room you decide you’re not just going to lie there feeling sorry for yourself all night. You’re going to get up, clean up and start packing to meet Marcus back at home like you had thought about earlier. It was too sad sitting in this gorgeous suite all alone, watching a clock or your phone waiting on your husband to return. You get up and throw on one of Marcus’ t-shirts and a fresh pair of panties, quickly use the bathroom and brush your teeth and then begin to wander about the room, picking up clothes and toiletries and any other of yours or Marcus’ belongings and start packing them into the small suitcase. Once everything is packed you take a look around the suite and realize what a disaster you’ve all made. Between dirty dishes, empty coffee cups, liquor and champagne bottles, and a haphazardly made bed, you decide to tidy up a bit as well before you leave. You know that’s Housekeeping's job but you don’t think you could live with yourself knowing you left a room in the state this one was in so you begin about tossing away trash, collecting empty bottles to line them up on the small counter top and fixing up the bed at least halfway decently. The “do not disturb” sign had been stationary on the outside of the suite door handle since your arrival last night so no cleaning staff had bothered to come by and you couldn’t in good conscience leave the room the way it was.

You stand in the middle of the living room and take a final glance around, satisfied with how you’re leaving things now and go to turn back to the bedroom to get dressed and collect your suitcase when there’s a sudden knock at the door. Your brow furrows at who it could be but you head over to pull it open away, thinking maybe your husband had decided to take the liberty to order dinner for you, rightfully assuming you would skip it all together had it been solely up to you.

You reach the door and pull it open, ready to let whoever is on the opposite side of the door know that you won’t be staying to eat but the words die on your tongue as it swings open and reveals what - or rather who - waits on the other side.

“Hi” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi” he murmurs back, eyes boring into yours.

With one large hand planted against the door frame, Dave looms over you as a dead silence stretches on between you. You know what he’s waiting for. He’s waiting for you to tell him to leave, that he shouldn’t be here. He still has his duffel in his other hand which means he didn’t even make it to his car. From the close proximity you can smell the alcohol on his breath, maybe he only made it as far as the hotel bar and convinced himself to turn right back around.

Either way, you know you just don’t have it in you to turn him away. He knows it, too. Despite not even knowing you very long, he’s always been able to read you like a book.

There’s always been a pull between the two of you, a magnetic attraction. But over the past couple of visits, and certainly over the last 24 hours, something has shifted. You’d felt it, and given the way Dave was looking at you now, you know he did too.

Dave is first to break the silence with a whispered “fuck” before he pushes his way fully inside. Duffel dropped to the floor just inside the entryway, his left arm wraps around your waist and lifts you easily as his other hastily slams the door shut before joining the other to secure you to his body. Your legs wrap around him and both his hands grab hold at your ass while yours wrap around his neck and your lips meet in a heated frenzy as Dave carries you further inside.

“Where?” Dave mumbles against your lips between kisses, halfway across the living room by now.

“Bed. Take me to bed” you answer easily. You don’t want a quick fuck on the couch or against a wall. There’s a yearning inside of you that can’t be fully satisfied unless you do this right. Dave hums his approval into your mouth, passing by the couch and into the next room until he reaches the foot of the bed and he stops to let you down, your body slowly sliding down his front until your bare feet hit the floor. Your arms remain around his neck, his at your waist and he looks down at you, forehead resting against yours, holding your gaze for several long seconds.

“Thought you left” you manage to say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” he admits. Your breaths mingle in the limited space between you, the temperature in the room suddenly stifling. Dave can feel the way your body slightly trembles in his arms, just as you can easily read the longing in his gaze. You want this. You both do.

“Tell me to go” he tries, voice so low and soft it’s barely discernible, his eyes falling shut and thumbs absently rubbing back and forth at your hips.

“Can’t” you answer simply. He knows it’s the truth.

“Then tell me to stay” he tries instead, eyes opening again to search yours, needing your consent, your affirmation that you feel this too, whatever is inside of him. He needs to know that you need him as much in this moment as he needs you. That you’re willing to cross this line with him.

You don’t answer him with words. You can’t. Instead you lower one arm down to take his hand into yours and you lead him around the bed, turning once you reach the head of it and dropping his hand to bring both of yours to the waistband of his jeans, slowly popping each one of the buttons of his 501’s until they’re fully open and you’re able to push the denim down his hips. He helps you free him from the confines of his jeans until they’re bunched at the floor and he quickly toes out of his shoes before kicking his pants the rest of the way off. His t-shirt goes next as he reaches behind him and drags it up and over his torso, quickly tossing it aside before both his hands come down to cradle your face and he stands before you in only his boxer briefs.

Words still unspoken, your hands come up to splay across his chest and give him a gentle guiding push. He follows your lead, sinking down onto the mattress and gets seated with his back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to stretch out in front of him as you carefully crawl on top of him, one knee bent on either side of his hips as you straddle his lap and then lower your forehead to rest against his, bringing a hand down to gently caress against his cheek.

Dave lets out a desperate little groan before pressing forward enough so he can capture your mouth. He kisses you slow and deep, moaning into you when your lips part and his tongue brushes yours. It’s not the bruising, desperate and rushed kisses you’re used to from Dave. It’s soft and romantic and decidedly intimate.

His right hand trails up your side under the oversized t-shirt and cups a bare breast before deft fingers begin to play with your nipple, gently pinching and rolling it between the pads of his fingers while your back arches into his touch, desperate for more. He takes the hint and pulls you back just enough so he can tug the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor before pulling you closer once more. His mouth trails downwards, placing hot open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, down the column of your throat, your collarbone, and finally finding purchase on your other breast, mouthing over the pert bud before gently sucking it into his mouth.

You moan at his actions, hands coming to card through his hair, gently scraping his scalp with your fingernails.

“God you make me feel so good” you pant and he moans his appreciation for your praise into your heated flesh. “So good to me, baby.”

He continues to kiss and lick and suckle at your breasts, paying each one equal attention and his hand pleasuring whichever one his mouth isn’t currently fastened to and you arch further into him, head thrown back and allowing your hips to grind against his groin. He’s growing hard underneath you, you can feel him swell and begin to strain against the tight fabric of his underwear as you take your own pleasure from him, reveling in the friction created between your legs with each slow drag of his hardening length between your cotton covered core.

“God, fuck!” You whine, swearing you could come from this alone. Dave groans into your breasts, hands coming to take hold at your hips and help guide your movements to grind down further into him.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful” Dave lets out, breathless as you rock on top of him, your body on full display as you take out your pleasure on him with each downward press of your pelvis into his. “My perfect girl” he praises before surging upwards to capture your mouth with his once more, tongues entwining immediately into that all too familiar dance now as he wraps a strong arm around your waist and easily flips you both until you’re underneath him, his body weight gently pressing you deeper into the mattress as he kisses you until you’re both left breathless.

He’s cradled deliciously right between your legs as you lay on your back with your knees bent and raised in the air to accommodate him as he slowly continues to grind against you and before long it gets to be simultaneously too much, yet not enough and you reach down, desperately shoving at the soft material of his boxers to get them off. He laughs against your lips between kisses but quickly obliges your silent request, aiding you in pulling them all the way down before he can kick them away and then slowly he lowers himself down the length of your body, pausing to kiss and lick and nip at whatever piece of flesh he finds along his descent until he’s up on his elbows with his face hovering right above your core.

“Dave, fuck” you whine, hand instinctively reaching out to push through his hair.

Dave however seems intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity as he places a soft kiss to your still covered mound, then gently rubs his nose through the seam of your folds and finally sticks his tongue out to lap a few times at your panties, creating enough of a wet spot between his saliva and your own arousal that it nearly feels like there’s no barrier between you at all, your white panties surely transparent by now.

“Please, please, please.” It’s barely above a whisper. A pathetic whine, really, the way you beg for him. Need him.

He turns his head, placing little kisses at your thighs and hips until finally his hands go to the elastic waistband of your panties and he slowly peels them down your legs until you’re finally rid of them and he tosses them to the floor before crawling back up your body and capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing down each one of your moans with his mouth.

“I need you” you confess, breathless and writhing under the solid weight of him.

Dave groans, pulling his lips away from your mouth to nuzzle into your throat instead where he voices his own desperation “need you too. Fuck I need you”.

You moan at his admission, reaching to grab for his face to bring it back to yours but he diverts slightly downwards, bringing the attention of his mouth back to your breasts. He takes one into his mouth while his right hand gropes the other, massaging and kneading the flesh under his large grasp before delicately taking your pebbled nipple between his fingers to pinch and tweak at it until you’re writhing into his touch all over again.

Dave always made sure to prepare you for him, but never had the two of you taken so much time for just foreplay and you feel like you’ve been on the edge of an orgasm for an eternity by now. You’re used to Dave taking you hard and fast but tonight he seems perfectly content on taking his time to unravel you until you’re nothing but putty in his hands, desperate for him to carve you out and mold you into his body however he sees fit.

Before long his free hand drifts down your side and goes between your legs and when he feels how absolutely soaked and ready you are he lets out a little growl of need and for a moment you’re certain the Dave you’re used to is about to take over. He’s going to toss you around until you’re in the position he wants and drive his cock into you so hard and fast that you forget your own name and can only scream out his.

But you wait, and it doesn’t happen. He continues to gently kiss, lick and play with your breasts while his other hand presses into your folds, slides down to plunge two fingers inside of you and raises his thumb to circle your clit. Your hands become lost in his hair, desperate for anything to hold onto as you grind yourself into his hand, panting, moaning and whispering little bits of praise at how well he takes care of you and Dave is absolutely eating it up. With every little adoration that slips past your lips he moans or whimpers into your skin, eager for your praise and eager to please you and it’s night and day to the Dave you’re used to that tells you to stay still and take what he has to give you.

A third finger joins the first two as he slowly strokes your walls, curling them at just the right spot deep inside of you that has you mewling and whimpering under his delicate touch. They drag in and out of your core at a slow but precise pace as he works you open, his mouth never faltering from pleasuring your breasts while his hand drives you to the brink of sanity. He knows your body well enough by now that he can sense when you’re getting close and he amps up his pace, fingers gliding in and out of your wet heat easily with renewed vigor as the lewd sounds of your gushing arousal coating his digits and slapping of skin against skin fills the small space of the bedroom.

Before long, you finally cum on his fingers, back arching and a long drawn out moan releasing from the depths of your throat and Dave’s mouth climbs back up your body to swallow down the rest of your moans while his fingers continue their delightful torture below, working you through your orgasm as your walls pulse and contract around his thick fingers.

“Oh my god” you sigh, hands wrapping around Dave’s head as he buries his face in the side of yours and his hand finally leaves your sex to rest at your hip instead, giving you some reprieve. He shifts to lie on his side next to you now, pressing in close against your body while you lie on your back, body still trembling as you come back down from your high.

“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss just below your ear while his thumb absently runs back and forth against your hip. “So perfect” another kiss, this time to the underside of your jaw and you turn on your side to face him. “So good to me” he concludes, pressing a kiss to your lips.

He’s being so sweet and attentive and incredibly affectionate and though you definitely like the harder, dominating side of Dave, there’s something about his softness that you’re finding just as addictive.

You’re well and truly fucked now. Literally, figuratively.

You try to ignore the way your heart swells as you lie here on your sides face to face, slowly kissing and exploring each other with your hands. Dave’s touch is slow and methodical, like he needs to map out every inch of you to commit to memory like he might never see it again and you arch into his touch every chance you get, desperate to feel more of him. It’s not long before your body is craving him again and with how you can feel him pressed against your belly, you know he needs you too. You roll on top of him and take his face in both hands, ensuring his eyes focus on you and they do, his hands stilling on either side of your hips.

“Make love to me. Please David”

The words barely get past your lips before Dave surges upward, mouth capturing yours in a desperate and heated kiss. His arms wrap around you and he flips you both so you’re underneath him again as his tongue invades the heat of your mouth, the wet muscle wrapping around yours as he seemingly puts every emotion he has into the passionate kiss.

Below you he’s gently lifting one of your legs up so it’s bent at the knee before his hand goes between his own legs to guide himself to line up at your entrance. It’s a slow press of his hips that pushes him inside of you and you both moan into each other's mouth once he enters you, filling you up so completely. He stills once he’s buried to the hilt and and pulls back from your mouth so his forehead rests against yours, your panting breaths mingling in the limited space between you.

Your name leaves his lips in a whisper and it nearly catches you off guard. You’re not even sure you’ve ever heard him say it before. He’s called you lots of names, sure, but never your own and a warmth spreads through your whole body at how it sounds coming from his lips like a forbidden secret meant only for your ears. Your hands go back to his face and pull him back in, your mouths melding together as he slowly begins to move.

“My god you’re fucking perfect” he breathes out as he pulls back just enough so that he can look into your eyes as he gently rocks his hips in and out of you and both your legs come up, locking your ankles together behind his back to keep him impossibly close as he ruts into you. “My perfect girl” he praises, eyes slipping shut as his forehead rests against yours and he focuses all his attention on how good you feel completely wrapped around him, consumed by him.

He fucks you slow and deep for what seems like an eternity, neither of you in any hurry to finish, just wanting to feel. Every slow drag of his cock against the wet heat of your walls sends a tingle down your spine that has your toes curling, ankles digging deeper into the soft and sweat-slicked flesh of his back. Eventually though the need for a release comes on strong and fast for you both and refuses to be ignored. Your legs wrap around his torso a little tighter, your hand in his hair gripping harder and his hot breaths against your neck getting more ragged as his hips pick up the pace.

“Close?” he asks between labored breaths into the shell of your ear and you nod against him.

“Mmmhmm, fuck I’m so close, please”

“C’mere” he breathes, turning onto his side and shifting you into the same position, lying on your right side with your back to his front. He lifts your left leg that rests on top of your right so he can slip in between them again and slide right back into your welcoming heat, both of you groaning in pleasure at how much deeper he can reach inside of you at this angle.

“Oh my god” you cry out when he begins to piston back and forth.

“Right there?” he breathes against the side of your face and you whimper unintelligibly, nodding your head before turning it back so you can capture his lips, allowing him to swallow down each of your moans.

The hand still hooked under your leg wanders slightly until it reaches its prize between your legs, deft fingers pressing down exactly how you need them to and rubbing small tight circles against your puffy, swollen clit and that’s all it takes. Within moments you’re falling apart, a wrecked sob leaving your throat as your arm that’s not currently underneath you comes up to wrap around Dave’s neck, securing him to you as you whimper, whine and moan into his mouth, your orgasm completely taking hold over you for several long seconds.

“Baby, I can’t, I’m - fuck” he groans, holding himself back with no small amount of effort from finishing. The way your walls clamp down around him as he feels your release coating him, your limbs entwined all around his own that tremble and pulse like his own second heartbeat.

“Let go, it’s ok” you manage between shaky breaths, neck still craned so your lips are just a whisper away from his. “Wanna feel you, please. Want you inside me. Fill me up, baby. Please”

The moment the last words leave your lips he pushes in deep one final time and lets go, a strangled groan leaving his lips as he empties inside of you, pulsing as he paints the inside of your walls with rope after rope of his warm spend.

“Oh my god, oh my god” he groans into your throat as he slowly begins moving his hips again, ensuring every last drop of his seed stays buried deep inside you.

“Mmm hmmm” you whine, a desperate little sob escaping you as he continues to fuck his cum into you. “David, baby, god don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop”. He lets out a low growl, fucking you through the aftershocks of both your orgasms for as long as he can manage, then gives one final deep push as far as he can possibly reach and stills for several long seconds until he’s forced to pull back and finally, regretfully, slips out of you.

“Baby,” he sighs, like he’s physically pained by pulling out of you, wishing he could stay there forever. He gently lowers your leg back down and his arms reach around underneath you to embrace you and he rolls you so you’re on top of him, neither of you concerned about your sweat slicked bodies or the sticky mess where his spent cock rests against your swollen sex.

“That was incredible” he confesses in a low whisper before planting a kiss to your temple, a strong arm coming up to wrap around your head and hold you close, afraid if he lets go you might just disappear.

In your post-orgasmic clarity you feel yourself begin to tense as you try to comprehend what exactly you just did and more importantly, what it means. Whatever that was, felt so different than every time before with Dave. You want to open your mouth to say something to him, to discuss what just happened and hopefully get some kind of gauge on what he’s feeling but your brain is a jumbled mess and the words don’t come in time before he’s gently rolling you off of him to get up.

He grabs for one of the discarded towels from earlier that you’d tossed over the back of the armchair in the room and brings it between your legs, gently wiping away any leftover mess that’s there before he bends down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m going to take a shower” he tells you and you can do little more than nod your head. You wish you could form at least one coherent thought in your brain but they all escape you. You don’t even know where to begin, or what you even want to say. Or if you should be even having any sort of intimate conversation between the two of you without Marcus present.

None of it feels right, except for the part where it all feels right, and that alone terrifies you. You flip over onto your side and nestle into the pillows, willing for your brain to just shut down and provide you with a few minutes of solace. By some miracle, peace does come to you in the form of sleep, your body too spent and exhausted to stay awake a moment longer and you’re passed out before you even hear the shower stop running.

You don’t wake up to the snick of the hotel door closing shut after Dave gathered up every last piece of evidence of himself in the room and left without a word while you slept soundly, blissfully unaware that when his lips pressed against your forehead right before he walked out the door that it was the last time he intended on ever seeing you again. Either of you.

Next Chapter

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore

[laismoura-art]

Hey!! First of all, thanks for the tag in your latest Suchin post, I really do appreciate it. ☺️

I gotta say, I'm really interested in your Seidan!Suchin headcanon! It certainly is a super unique take. I found myself having some observations and questions about her, which I would like to inflict upon you >:D (that is, if you don't mind lmao)

Keep in mind that I'm a lore nerd so I might go a little too in depth. 😭

Okay so I know your AU follows MK1 so Outworld/Edenia is pretty much the same thing. What makes me curious is how you chose to have Seido be a city inside Outworld rather than its own realm (I don't think Seido is part of Outworld in MK1 but I tend to forget a lot about the lore of this new era so you'll have to forgive me about this lmao).

Going from Seido in the OG Timeline, we know there are different types of seidan people: those who simply go by the rules, those who think the rules are too harsh but keep quiet about it and the rebels who join the Seidan Resistance. From what I get, Suchin's family would be the quiet dissatisfied people and I get their wish to run away. However, I would like to offer a slight twist.

See, we don't know if the Seidan government would go after average people who simply left Seido. They could, but it's never implied. However, they would definitely go after active resistants, because THOSE are seen as criminals. As such, families of said resistants might also be targeted, even if they are innocents. Therefore, I wonder about the possibility of a part of the Bunnag family being members of the Resistance. The Seidan Guardsmen thus deemed the entire Bunnag family as a threat and go after them, forcing the family to flee.

I also think it's neat that the Bunnags didn't seek help from Sindel given that, in the OG Timeline, Seido and Edenia have an okay but tense relationship since Seido still tries to force its order ideology upon Edenia. Sindel welcoming the Bunnag, then seen as criminals, would definitely give an excuse for Seido to attack.

As for Kenshi and Suchin, they would both be even more connected through their respective connection to criminal organizations they ultimately despise and disavow. Because, yes, the Seidan Resistance is on the surface a good idea, but they harm a lot of innocent people when trying to "free" their city/realm. It also makes me wonder about how Suchin would view Havik and Darrius in your AU and how the flooding of Seido could affect her.

Okay, it's a long ask but I'm genuinely interested. Seido is an intriguing place and the idea of including more seidan people, especially Suchin, really makes me curious. Ramble as much as you'd like lmao!!

HEY RASTA!!

Sure! I thought you'd like more Suchin content (especially cause you helped inspire that)!❤️

Really? Aww, thank you! I'm so happy this headcanon has been well received so far (I was afraid I had gone too wild with that one, lol)!

Please, do ask! I take any chance to talk about my girls! Plus, more specific questions like this really help polishing my ideas! So, thanks in advance for this ask!❤️

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About Seido being in Outworld:

I totally made that up! We can tell by Havik's bio that Seido is its own realm:

The only thing is that I expressed myself wrong, I called it a city, but what I was actually going for is kingdom!

I dunno if that's exactly what MK1 had in mind, but in my interpretation, Outworld is a realm, and Edenia is a kingdom within it (if that's not what they meant it's how I interpreted and therefore how it works in my AU :P) with that in mind, my idea is that Edenia and Seido are neighbour kingdoms with an okay-ish relationship!

And the reason is just for simplicity sake!

See, I wanted Suchin to have a connection with Outworld and Edenia for my Umgadi Girls AU, and having Seido being in Outworld and next to Edenia and Delia made everything easier and saved me the trouble to add interdimensional trips and all that stuff!

I wish I had a deeper and more interesting reason for that, but I genuinely just took the easier route. And I'm really not that ashamed cause NRS did the exact same by having Edenia and Outworld as one place :P

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About the Bunnags being part of the Seidan Resistance:

I LOVED the idea! Consider it included!👏🏾❤️

AND I'd love to elaborate on that!

So, imagine if the Bunnags were just as extreme as Havik! And if back in the day they had the same sort of power he does now, they would be just as much of a threat!

But as time went by and new generations started to come, the family realised they were turning out just as ruthless as the government they sworn to topple and were causing more harm than good to the people they were trying to protect.

So, the new members started to take on different tactics that would cause less harm to the general population and eventually shifted their focus on actively defending the population from the government.

Unfortunately, the other members of the Resistance started to grow unsatisfied, they felt they weren't doing as much damage to the government anymore and started to think the Bunnags had gone soft and were now disqualified to keep leading their movement.

Without the resistance's support, the Bunnags were left much more exposed and became an easier target to the government.

Ultimately, the family realised they could not keep fighting under "the end justifies the means" rule because that belief didn't make them any better than their enemies.

Fearing for themselves and the families they actively protected (and also feeling their aid to the resistance was no longer welcomed), the family finally decided to leave!

They didn't try to hide the ugly part of their story. Rather, they accepted it and vowed they would never allow themselves to fall back into that dark path again. They would atone for their ancestors' sins and be better. Seek redemption.

---

Which then leads us back to Kenshi!

Who is struggling, thinking his family has gone too far into the darkness, and there's no way of finding redemption.

But now he knows that's not true! Thanks to Suchin, who decided to trust him and share her family's history. Her family, who once found themselves in the same crossroad he's now stuck in. Her family, who's all about redemption, who's living proof that redemption, though hard to achieve, is totally possible!

So basically, the Bunnags were a big deal within the resistance! Legends even! So you bet Havik heard of them, maybe was even a fan, and aspired to be as much of a threat to the government as they once were!

---

And since we are here, let's talk about Havik!

But there's the catch! He grew up listening to stories about the great Bunnag family and their feats! But he also heard of their change of heart and of their decision to flee.

And that would be a MAJOR let down for him! They would go from heroes to disgrace in a second! He would DESPISE them!

Which means he naturally hates Suchin!

And Havik being the embodiment of everything her family sworn never be anymore, Suchin hates him just as much! She sees him as the person she could've become had her family not found their way back towards the light. Look at him is like looking at a twisted mirror for her.

And this led me to a scenario I SO want to brainstorm right now!

Please, walk with me!

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A while ago, my friend @meme099 requested my take on Harumi as a playable character, and I made this post:

In it, I included a Tower Ending for Harumi that was basically that, as her clan serves Cetrion (Mother Nature herself), it is their duty to handle natural disasters, and as a former Umgadi, she was requested to aid Outworld with their two latest (not so) natural disasters: the death of the Living Forest and the flood in Seido.

Harumi went with her clan and Cetrion herself, and for old times' sake, she was also accompanied by Li Mei and her former classmates, which, of course, include our dear Suchin!

---

Now, keep in mind that even though the Bunnags recognise their ancestors' actions were bad, they still hate Seido and think the government sucks!

Which is why when Suchin went to Outworld to reconnect with her roots, she did not attempt to reconnect with Seido.

She became a Umgadi because she wanted to learn more about the Goddess who helped her family escape that hellish place! For her, having a place in Edenia is more than enough of a reconnection!

And she did learn more about Seido. They are the neighbour kingdom, after all. But what she learned didn't really improve her view on the place, if anything only worsened, and gave her certainty that even if she was welcomed back there (she wasn't) she wouldn't want to go!

---

Imagine if the Order of Cetrion were just called to help with the Living Forest.

With that in mind, here's a slight change to Harumi's ending:

Havik would still be their main target, as he helped cause that too.

So Suchin would be here not only as a former Umgadi but also because she her knowledge on the Seidan Resistance (though outdated) might come in hand!

Unfortunately, not in her wild dreams, she expected the Seidan Resistance to flood Seido's capital and EVERYONE within!

Cetrion and her warriors reacted quickly. Suchin requested them to start their rescuing efforts on the lower parts of the city (ahem, the poor part), where the people would be more endangered.

Suchin was disgusted by the situation. It was exactly what her ancestors tried to avoid by changing their ways.

She ended up meeting Havik, and like I said: they both HATED each other!

Havik kept on repeating how disappointed he was and how low the Bunnag house had fallen. While Suchin prided herself for not being anything like him!

I'll leave the confrontation with Havik with an open ending, but in the end, Cetrion and her warriors managed to stop the flood and evacuate as many people as they could from the capital.

Almost every member of the government was killed in the flood, and others perished by Havik's hands. But the two or three members who survived made sure to intensify their war against the Resistance and their allies and, of course, as soon as they learned of Suchin, they had her banished, her return would be punished with death💀

They also sent the Umgadi and the Order of Cetrion away rather quickly. When the warriors tried to warn them of the possible dangers they would be facing, the remaining leaders only told them to mind their own kingdoms and realms.

The warriors were certain the remaining government wouldn't last a day on their own, but there was only so much they could do.

They all left the kingdom...

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OKAY! this turned out HUGE, but you did request for a ramble so HERE WE ARE!! :D

I hope this answers all your questions! And please, do ask more!! I love to come up with scenarios like this!!

I loved to talk more about Seidan!Suchin (and consequently about my Umgadi Girls AU) and would definitely be up to talk some more!!❤️❤️❤️

@mikka-minns @thedragonholder @moody-bloos @orbitinytheworld Girls? May I offer more Suchin content in these trying times?👀❤️

[optiwashere]

WIP Wednesday

Holy shit, it's actually on a Wednesday this time?

I really wanted to do one of these this week since I've gone a bit rabid on a few WIPs.

I'll post a little bit about each of those WIPs later, some snippets and a blurb about why I'm so excited. But first! Folks to tag! Since I'm so excited for these, I'm gonna tag a lot this time.

If you have anything you want to share WIP writing-wise, please do... @quitefair @bottombatch @siyurikspakvariisis @causticcontemplation @jasminethetransvampire @underworldobsessed @assarivanguard @amorficzna @funwithnix @askweisswolf @linka-from-captain-planet @tief4tief

If you don't want to do this, or have nothing you want to share, feel free to ignore. If anyone else wants to do this, please feel free to consider yourself tagged. Now, onto my obsessions.

WIP 1: New chapter of Nightsongs

After spending some chapters in a kind of angst zone after the relatively light (relatively) first 4-5 chapters, this next chapter is going to be a kind of upswing. There's lots left to do with the AU, so I'm expecting to chug along and write more and more as time permits.

This AU is a lot for me to handle, especially after having so many chapters ready to post and then... falling way behind on writing the chapters afterwards. But it's fanfiction, and we're having fun here. So, who cares? The game's fandom heyday is already over, so at this point I'm just writing whatever feels best to me.

This chapter is mostly done, I think. I'm giving it a few days/a week to sit before I go back to edit it with fresher eyes. Also, we return to Ash's POV!

Lae’zel walked into Ash’s back office without a word on the seventh day and Ash nodded her way without looking up. Papers sat in strewn piles all over the desk, a handful of old incident reports and assessments that still needed working for Wulbren’s accountants. The absolute worst part of the job remained for the year – paperwork – and Ash intended to get them caught up in the hours that remained of her day. It was a useful, meaningful task. It gave her something else to think about. Anything other than green eyes. “We should talk,” Lae’zel said, sitting down without being offered one of the folding chairs in front of the desk. “Aren’t we doing that?” Ash scanned the paper in front of her and quickly jotted down her signature. [...] “You begin working on a van,” Lae’zel said matter-of-factly, counting off on her fingers as she spoke. “You talk to a pretty girl. You suddenly work more often on that van. Then, you disappear inside yourself and act bitter all day because suddenly the girl no longer shows up. There is more to it than you say.” “I think this might be the first time you’ve spoken more than five words to me, you know that?” Ash chuckled. “Am I that obvious?”

WIP 2: New chapter of Blades in the Night

The need to write more plot for this has been burrowing in my skull for a long time. I initially stopped myself from writing too much of it because I wanted to do Nightsongs first in its entirety before getting to this, but I think I'm just too impatient for that.

I also love the fact that this fic turned from a simple PWP one-shot into this much more expansive, plotty story that's now pretty important for what I want to do with my babies post-canon. Something about that makes me smile.

Plus, you know how I've been lamenting my inability to write happy endings for certain characters?

Either way, this isn't really complete, but the hardest part is complete and now I just have to start connecting the dots and filling in the blanks. I'd say it's about a third done?

The room filled with the same aura of a distant gaze leveled their way that Shadowheart had felt back in the cloister. Asheera had made an oath to protect Shadowheart then, and the flooding of a dense, real presence had nearly swallowed her whole in the cloister's barracks. A weight of importance sunk down on her shoulders there in Hobb's Hovel as well. A smell like molten metal cooling lilted in the air with a lingering, acrid tang. It tasted of blood in Shadowheart's mouth, as if the forging was tainted with some other foul presence in the mixture. [...] Little could have compared better to that feeling of a weight lifted from her shoulders. Worry disappeared and gave way to earnest joy in Shadowheart, and she thrived on it. She hadn't felt such keen happiness since she'd been so readily accepted into Asheera's family by her parents.

WIP 3: Gauntlet of Shar fic

Wow, I know! I've been talking about writing this fic for so long that it's almost become a sort of mythical never-to-be-slain beast for me. I'm not normally someone that talks about my ideas too often, I just write them before they can flee me.

I tend to also get in my own head about what I "should" be writing in the first place. Frankly, I'm getting kinda tired of writing so many ships, though fear not - I'll still have ideas that can only work with ships that aren't Shadowheart/Asheera. It's just that, for a while, I want to focus back on my loves.

This fic is one of those that I've wanted to finish for months. I know that at this point in the fandom's life cycle, I'm pretty much writing just for the dedicated, lovely folks that still read my stuff and I'm extremely happy to have y'all around! Maybe this will make Light Casts a Shadow ring a little more true for some, maybe it will be just another fic that I post, who knows.

Also, one thing I'm planning on experimenting with for this fic is alternate endings for Fun. This is a fic where the ending hinges on choices that Shadowheart makes in the game, so it's only fitting that I explore what would happen if she made those other choices.

But anywho, enough blabbing. Excerpt time!

Those touches and more, Asheera cherished. She watched in silence as Shadowheart turned her devotions to each of those tasks. Perhaps it was the nature of clerics to give themselves entirely to seemingly mundane tasks much the same Asheera felt compelled to consider her oaths in nearly every conversation, battle, or even moments like Shadowheart carefully buckling a cuisse to her leg with straps of leather at the backs of Asheera's knees. Fingertips trailed against her clothed skin, and Shadowheart stood up once more. "There," she said, "all's taken care of, then. Tell me, how's my handiwork? Be honest. I can handle the criticism." Asheera brought her balled fist to her chest in an arm curl. She flexed the elbow out and tested her shoulders, knees, ankles, and hips for motion. None of the plates caught on one another, and none of the straps across her hands, arms, knees, or chest restricted her. "Perfect," Asheera said at last. "Marvelous work." Shadowheart offered a quick smile. "I'll take a Gondian's compliment on such things any day." "Can't say I would've done a better job." "Ah, there's the honesty I was waiting for. Truly, where would you be without me?"

[karniss-bg3]

Hey guys, hope you're doing well.

I apologize for being quiet/less active lately. I've hit a bit of a creative wall where I'm feeling the bite of burnout and it's been a struggle to write anything I can feel good about. My cat has also gotten sick which has resulted in a mad dash to the vet and a great deal of worrying on my end. She is fine for the moment which is a relief but the bill that came attached right before the holidays has added a new layer of stress. It will all work out but the events compound one another and it has tossed my mind into a vast, bleak fog.

For this reason I'll not be accepting new writing prompts for the time being. The ask box will remain open for all other inquiries/comments. I suspect the earliest I'll reopen writing requests is early next year after things have settled down. I do still have a few prompts to address so folks may see writing still pop up here as I move through the queue.

I know I often thank people for their support but I do want to delve into that a bit deeper. I never expected much from this blog when I first started it. I figured it would just be a depository for my ravenous Kar'niss obsession so I wouldn't flood followers on my primary blog with material they didn't sign up for. Instead it's morphed into a little haven for fellow drider enjoyers to congregate and discuss amongst their peers. From theorycrafting to praising their favorite Absolute loving arachnid, this spot became so much more than I ever imagined. Three-hundred plus followers later I still see the enthusiasm thrust into the comments and tags for a character that deserved more than he got.

Fandom can be beautiful and it can be ugly. Just like any community, it's subject to the flaws of its contributors. I am happy to say that, by and large, I've bore witness to more beauty than anything else and it's part of what has made this journey special to me. I am not Kar'niss, I don't work for Larian Studios, I am just a guy who gravitated toward a character I felt I could relate to and I ran with it. I am by no means a world class writer, merely someone who enjoys the art of storytelling. I am proud I was able to enrich an already bustling community with my little blurbs of text and I hope to continue to do so in the future.

So when I say thank you for your support I mean it. This has been some of the most fun I've had over the last two months and it is because of your passion and willingness to reach out. Hype comes and goes and I don't expect Kar'niss to be at the forefront of someone's mind forever. Should the day come that the devoted screams fade into hushed whispers I will still look back on my time here with great fondness. All of you are wonderful and I wish you nothing but good fortune for the end of this year and all throughout the next. Thanks for sticking with this old fart.

Have a fantastic holiday everyone!

[zmediaoutlet]

twenty questions for fic writers

tagged to do the do by @prince-of-elsinore, ty ty for thinking of me

How many works do you have on ao3?

211 (and elsewhere, maybe a dozen we don't talk about, bc they suck, on livejournal; maybe a couple dozen short pieces here on tumblr that have never migrated to ao3)

What's your total ao3 word count?

1,515,103

What fandoms do you write for?

Almost all Supernatural, but also some video game fandoms (FF, DA, maybe BG3 soon), MCU, etc. usual suspects.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. oh so good, oh so fine -- 993 kudos 2. there will be better days -- 846 kudos 3. see things so much clearer -- 621 kudos 4. into the flood again -- 602 kudos 5. side two, track one -- 558 kudos maybe someday we'll break 1000, lol

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely I do, and would find it rude not to. I know other people have all kinds of reasons they don't respond but I don't have any of those reasons, especially since I'm pathetically grateful every time someone bothers to say they liked something, lol. If anyone's even a tiny bit encouraged to become a repeat reader by the writer responding, I want to encourage that as much as possible. Plus, every once in a while, you can get a dece conversation going in the comments! Find a like-minded fan! That's worth any effort to compose a few sentences of thanks. The only comments I don't respond to are emoji strings or cut-and-paste 'another kudos here' comments, because they're not actually comments. (I appreciate the thought, but... I don't want them.)

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have had some beta friends who would argue about this one, lol. I guess the saddest is probably the hollow summer, since the whole plot is kind of hurt/no comfort. I don't believe in a successful boy king, let's say that.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

again, probably depends on how you define 'happy'. glory days is probably the most cheerful; for me, the happy comes better with more experience behind it, so the thirty-third yard would maybe be my personal choice.

Do you get hate on fics?

nope; worst I ever got was some twerp who actually responded to someone else's comment, bitching that I didn't put the right peepee in the right poopyhole. But only one of those, ever, and safely ignored. idk, I don't attract that much.

Do you write smut?

...yes.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

only one, and it only sort of counts -- i heard love was blind, which is Cordell Walker/Dean Winchester, but of course the point is that Dean's getting the body of his brother by other means. I like crossovers but I usually want there to be a point beyond 'let's mash these two faves together and see what happens'; I'm more inclined toward doing a whole-universe fusion, e.g. fully placing characters with what you can salvage of their key backstory elements into a universe not their own... which I guess would also count as a crossover, wouldn't it. so I also did that with putting the Winchesters into the Dragon Age 2 plot, in whatever we were before. definitely 'crazier' than the first one here, lol.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I think that's the kind of thing that happens on WattPad. Who cares.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, a few.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I tried; it didn't work. Both people need to be contributing to the writing for it to really count as 'co-written'; nevertheless it's stuck with both author names on ao3 because I don't think there's a way to change that.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I think from context this should be clear. Although will also forever hold many small candles for the little guys.

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

the aforementioned "co-written" fic, which was meant to be a huge series. The first fic is finished because I brute-forced my way through it, but there was a full five-season arc we were going to try to get through. Alas. The first one is decent, though, and works as a complete fic on its own: In a Cursed Hour.

What are your writing strengths?

voice, pacing, naturalism; characterization, though that can be argued in a fan-space

What are your writing weaknesses?

plot -- I find it intensely boring. Avoidance of plot then tends to flatten stories into similar non-arcs; I don't mind that, but it's a skill to exercise.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'll only do Spanish, and that's only because I studied it for eight years. Even then it's usually the wrong choice, unless it's a fully blended multilingual story (which most are not, and in the wrong hands it comes off as absurd); better to convey through the POV character either understanding it or not, and dealing with it in narrative instead of straight dialogue. Although a word or two here or there is nbd, clearly.

First fandom you wrote for?

Final Fantasy VIII

Favorite fic you've written?

well, questions, you got me, because I don't believe in favorites. at this moment in terms of writing skill I think the best might be asceticism, but in terms of one that sits in my head and fully just is canon, lol, it might be there will be better days, mentioned above. the only heaven fic I need. I guess that says something.

kind of interesting to look at the stats, if also stressful. let's get some other writers to be interested/stressed -- uhh @redmyeyes, @phynali, @hellhoundsprey, @stillwaterseas, @whiskeycherrypie

some shots in the dark :)

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny I have an idea

What if reader and lando lowk hate each other and are rivals but one night at vegas they wake up after being blackout drunk married and they only have photos (a bit like the hangover movie) and then they get a flashback of everything with a fruitcake, crostata, cranberry juice and coffee plss thanksss bunny !

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items to check out, thank you so much for those who have submitted, these have been a lot of fun to make. i really love this concept so thank you for putting it in front of my eyes! i hope you enjoy <3

fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special." + crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.” + cranberry juice: mean!character + coffee: rivals served by lando norris (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, rivals au, driver!reader, drinking, drunk marriage, hate sex, mean!lando,

light streamed through the large windows in your hotel room. your eyes cracked open and your mouth felt instantly dry. your lips couldn't form words as you just groaned. you were no stranger to hangovers, but when you turned away from the evil sun, your cheek collided with something firm. someone firm. it was a body, your eyes open wider. you looked to see who was the mystery man in your bed.

while you were expecting some babe from the strip. you instead saw a sleeping lando norris.

and when you recoiled away from you and put your hand over your mouth, you noticed something even more terrifying. you had a gold band on your left hand.

it started over drinks, you could see lando from across the bar as you leaned back into your seat. your teammate followed your gaze. not this again.

lewis had the displeasure of hearing almost all of your drunken rants about lando. he knew very intimately how much you loathed, but also wanted lando. he was your proper rival. while the rivalry wasn't the more fierce in the history of formula one, he wanted you to just get over your stubbornness and sleep with the mclaren driver to get over the tension.

"i hate him." you sighed, "he walks around the paddock like he has the biggest cock."

"and how would you know his cock isn't the biggest?" lewis laughed which spurred you to laugh.

"well, c'mon. we all know that my cock is the biggest. in a metaphorical sense anyway... but it takes big balls to be the only female driver. gotta keep up with the boys." you laughed and winked at your teammate.

lewis chuckled, "can't argue with that." then took a sip of his (non alcoholic) drink. he watched you look over at the mclearn drivers at the other end of the bar. while oscar gave a wave, lando glared at you.

you made a face before you took another sip of your cocktail, "he doesn't act like that with anyone else. he is practically running max off the track and he is still more friendly than with me. maybe he hates women." the alcohol was flooded in your brain and your tonuge felt looser.

your teammate laughed, "right, right. he hated woman." he watched you ramble. an unintentional plus side to not drinking was that he got to be the sober person in the room when fellow drivers spilled their guts over drinks. eventually he said, "i think you need to talk to him."

and you were so drunk at that point you took hew advice and got up on shaky legs. you started to make your way over to lando, which shocked lewis. you never took his advice like that. he also knew that he wasn't going to be seeing you for the rest of the night.

he looked around for a moment before he took another sip of his drink. he hoped that you didn't get into too much trouble tonight. and made a mental note to check in on you in the morning. someone could get into heaps of trouble in a place like las vegas.

you don't know this happened or what you said. but lando was soon in your room with his large hands all over you. you groaned at his touch and he wanted to devour you whole. you wanted the same for him.

"i'll make tonight special." he said as he got you out of your mercedes branded t-shirt. and eyed your breasts.

"never seen tits before, norris? i thought you went through women like pairs of socks." you laughed before lando pushed you further up against the wall.

he chuckled lowly, "you like getting me mad, huh? you like driving me up the fucking wall. stupid slut, this is what you wanted, huh? you wanted me to fuck you like i hate you." lando then groaned, he pinned you to the wall, "you're such a whore. i bet you keep toto's bed nice and warm during the off season."

"fuck, shut up. you basically are between the legs of zak any time he asks. like a fucking dog." you bit back before lando kissed you once more.

the months of feuding had come to a head. as lando continued you to mark up your breasts before he took your bra off. he hungrily licked his lips and groaned a little.

the bed seemed far and you ended up on the couch. both of you were stripped naked, your flushed body on display for him as you straddled his waist and he held on to your hips like you two had done this a million times. you moved well together.

"i thought you were a virgin because you never put out. turned out you're a proper whore." your moan only spurred him on as he pushed himself inside of your achy cunt. he felt you in such an intimate way.

"i'm not a whore" you groaned as you fully seated yourself onto his cock.

he gripped you by the ass and replied, "there's no shame in being a whore. especially my whore. don't worry, i won't throw you away. nah, i'm keeping you." he groaned as he started to fuck you. and you felt the flood of pleasure in your body.

you had to admit, lando made you feel good. there was something about how it made you feel that made you move faster. damn lando norris, damn him.

his kisses got hotter the more you both rutted against each other.

"you feel like heaven. the hottest piece of ass on the track." he groaned, "you're always trying to be the best, but i know you well enough. fuck you drive me crazy!"

you asked, "is that why you hate me?" you felt the pleasure pair with the liquor in your system. it all clouded your mind.

"could never actually hate you." he groaned, "i'd bully and tease you. but that's because i want you so badly. spent so many nights jerking off to the thoughts of you." his breathing became heavier, "wanted to fuck you in front of the grid. i wanted you all to myself." his tone was hungry, but his words were true. he needed you. you had invaded his thoughts.

"fuck, lando." the haze of it all kept you moving. there was a painful heat between you. it was unlike anything you felt before with anyone else. sex was fun with others, but with lando it was a deep need.

he excited you sexually, just as he ddi on the track. you two kissed once more and lando moaned against your lips. youmoved faster, you could feel his cock hit against your softest areas. and you felt heaven on earth. and as you climaxed, the feeling was closely compared to winning a grand prix.

"fuck.' he groaned as you came. you kissed once more and practically melted against him. he gripped your hips tightly.

you continued to fuck him through your orgasm. and by the time he finished inside of you, you had marked up his shoulders with your nails because he made you finish for a second time.

when you slowed to a stop, you rested against his toned chest. he wrapped an arm around you and gave you a lazy kiss on the mouth.

he groaned when he pulled away, "fuck it. i'm keeping you. let's get married." there were a lot of ways to get into trouble in las vegas.

-

you laid in bed beside a sleeping lando. you looked at your wedding ring in shock. it only made the hangover worse. you had no recollection of most of the night, you remembered being intimate. but no details about your wedding.

your phone rang and you reached for it. you picked it up and heard lewis' voice on the other end, "good morning mrs. norris."

you sat up in bed and the throb in your head got worse. "how did you know? jesus christ." you said as you got out of bed to have this conversation in the bathroom.

"i mean, you sent me photos of your wedding. didn't take you as someone who wanted to be married by an elvis impersonator. how drunk were you last night?"

you closed the bathroom door and looked into the mirror. and saw all the marks lando left you the night prior. you said, "i couldn't tell you... i remember nothing."

"well they already updated your name on the track for next weekend." lewis laughed, "i'd suggest your change it on your track id, don't want any problems, mrs. norris."

"you hate me, lewis. you want me dead."

lewis replied, "not as much as toto wants you dead. have fun with your husband, let me know if you're flying to qatar with him or not."

when the call ended, you looked through your photos. you got married to lando norris. your rival. you felt your stomach dropped when you saw all the photos. the bathroom door opened and you were face to face with your husband.

you looked at one another in shock. you looked down at the photo on the phone screen. it was you in a short white number and lando in a white button up and tan slacks. you had no memory of this.

your hands shook as you showed him the photo. there was a silence between you two. before you could say anything, you jumped as you phone rang once more.

your stomach twisted when you saw the caller id. it was your boss, toto wolff. <3

[hauntedhotel]

It's 8:30 in the morning, I've only had one cup of coffee and I am chewing the walls over your tags on the time travel post! 😭 I just think s1 Jon needs a little kiss on the head.

Jon sulking in his office, wondering why it even matters if his assistants like him or not, this is his job, he's here to work not to make friends, he doesn't even care if they all like his future self more than they like him.

But he's in here, alone, stewing about it so obviously he cares a little bit.

And why wouldn't they like him better, he's confident and competent and so secure in himself, plus he might have...super powers, or something? Obviously they would prefer that kind of Jon to the mess they're stuck with now.

He doesn't care, it doesn't matter, he isn't even thinking about it.

He's just debating whether or not to get on with things and record another statement or sneak outside for a stress-smoke when his office door opens and slams closed again, and Martin stares at him sheepishly.

"Sorry, I know you're busy, I just need somewhere to hide from your future self for a second-oh...no offense."

"Oh," Jon says softly, surprised. "N-none taken. He's ah...slightly insufferable, isn't he?"

"Slightly?" Martin starts to sit down on the other side of Jon's desk, and then freezes, eyeing Jon nervously as if expecting to be ordered out of the room. Jon gives the chair a jerky nod, and Martin sinks down the rest of the way. "He's kind of doing my head in, to be honest. He keeps...staring at me with his...laser vision."

A very undignified snort of laughter bursts out of Jon, and Martin stares at him in shock, before a hesitant smile lights his own face.

"You know what I mean though? Like he's...I don't know, trying to set you on fire with his mind or something?"

"I'm fairly certain that isn't one of his powers," Jon says, although he supposes it's possible. That's concerning - the archives don't have sprinklers and there's an awful lot of dry paper in here. "You don't think..." Jon hesitates; he should tell Martin to get back to work, to stop wasting Jon's time and his own, that Jon-from-the-future might be...unnerving, but he's full of information that can almost certainly help them.

He doesn't, because it turns out...good lord...he does care whether his assistants like him or not, even Martin.

"What?" Martin prompts, gently.

"You don't think he's...I don't know...he seems to know what he's doing? He's very..." Jon chews his lip thoughtfully. Confident? Powerful? The opposite of a person mid-nervous breakdown over a promotion he doesn't deserve to a job he has no idea how to do? There's no way to end that sentence that doesn't rip something mortifying out of Jon and hold it up for Martin to see, to judge him for.

Martin huffs.

"Smug?" He suggests. "Pompous? Full of himself? Kind of a self-righteous muppet?"

Jon laughs again, properly this time, and tries to ignore the flood of relief suddenly warming his chest.

"He's trying to help," he says, not sure why he's half-heartedly defending the future self he kind of hates, and ignoring the little voice at the back of his mind saying he just wants Martin to keep calling him names.

"I mean...he is helping, a bit, when you get him to stop talking in stupid riddles. Sasha and Tim are taking it in turns to talk to him."

"They...uh...they don't like him either?"

"No! Tim said he was creepy and Sasha-" He stops, and pulls a face. "Sorry, I shouldn't be...I mean...he's you, isn't he? Sort of? I feel like I shouldn't be telling you that we keep taking it in turns to hide from your future self."

"I...well...he's...one possible version of me, I suppose. We're not the same person, not yet."

"Hopefully you never will be," says Martin, with surprising force. Jon thinks of all the horrifying things that happened to his future self to make him what he is, and somewhere deep inside Jon is a little fluttering feeling at the thought of Martin wanting to protect him from it. Hmm.

"Hey," says Martin, pulling Jon back into reality and away from the dangerous precipice of introspection. "He said - the um, the other Jon - he said he needed to get some work done by himself later, some stuff he doesn't want us to know about yet. We were going to go to the pub for some lunch - just get out of here for a little bit...you fancy it?"

Jon stares at him for a second, deliberating. They do this every so often, the three of them - when the weather brightens up and they feel like getting out of the basement into some natural light, or when one of them has had to deal with a particularly gruesome statement, or when Elias has been into the Archives twice in one morning. They used to invite Jon; Tim would poke his head into Jon's office and ask if he fancied a pint or a pub lunch or some fresh air and natural light. After weeks or Jon saying no, they eventually gave up.

Martin raises his eyebrows, and gives Jon a little, lop-sided smile; it brings out a little dimple in his left cheek.

There's something about Martin that sets Jon on edge - always has, from the beginning, all the way back to the thing with the dog. No one is this nice, this gentle and persistent in caring about someone who definitely doesn't deserve it...and kindness has always sat awkwardly inside Jon, unfamiliar and aching.

But...he's just sitting here, in Jon's office, patient and unhurried and offering Jon yet more kindness. And he thinks future Jon is a smug git.

"Yes," he says, eventually. "Why not?"

As they pile out of the institute and into the tentative sunlight, Sasha takes a big deep breath and Tim slings an arm around Jon's shoulder.

"Finally, an hour of freedom with the Jon that's only a little bit insufferable," he says, but he gives Jon a bit of a squeeze as he says it, and when they arrive at the pub Sasha puts a pint of Guinness in front of him without having to ask what he wants, and Martin nags him into ordering something substantial for lunch, and for the first time since he stepped into the archives weeks ago and had to force down a panic attack, they feel almost like a team, almost like they're friends, and Jon feels something close to safe.

[makiandcheese]

Notes in blue ink

Kaeya / Rosaria

tags: childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, domestic fluff, modern au, non-sexual physical touch

a/n: I made this on my phone, so sorry if the format is weird

☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆

summary: Kaeya and Rosaria reminisce on the past that led to their matching rings.

☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆

Once in a blue moon, Kaeya would ask a question that would leave Rosaria stunned. He once asked her about her dream home after her comments about the Ragnvindr household. At first, she thought about it and realized she had nothing to answer. She was particularly interested in interior decor but not so much in the structure itself.

After a few moments of silence, she expressed how she liked big windows that brought the natural light in. Much like the sliding doors in Varka’s home since it brought in warmth, she once took for granted in the orphanage. Rosaria preferred a house that was not too boxy or too geometrically structured, as she states. She expressed how the exterior could also affect her time there.

"I want a nice, warm, kinda gothic home. I don't want plain whites everywhere." She said, leaning on the school garden railing at lunch. "But… to be honest, I don't really care as much."

Kaeya’s eyes rolled. She said she didn't care but stated specifics down to how she wanted the knobs at the drawers would look like. "You literally said a lot of things. Are you worried I’ll judge you, is that it?." he asked. "Come on, lighten up. Plus take this as a… practice question to when you'd get to date someone."

"Sounds like you're trying to coax me to come to another blind date again." Rosaria grinned and traced the specks of sunlight hitting Kaeya's face from the tree above them. "I'm not interested in another one of those events."

"Then," words he kept deep in his veins and arteries slipped out his tongue. "Imagine I'd come to visit your home. What would it look like?"

She turned away from him and traced the same light from the trees from her hands to her fingertips. "Well…" She smiled and stuck her tongue inside her cheek to prevent herself from showing anymore. "You wouldn't be able to guess because you'd come at 10 pm on a Friday with three bottles of alcohol, that's for sure."

"Hey!"

"But… I'd take you to the kitchen, and there'd be some barstools by my kitchen island. We'd share several glasses like how we already do at your place. You'd complain about your family, and I'd complain about the severe consequences of capitalism on Mondstadt." Rosaria's mind was flooded with the thought of Kaeya by her side for years to come. "You'd hand me a glass of something Diluc taught you, and, for some reason, I'd still be more sober than you."

His hands traced the floor plan in the air. Making sure she doesn't turn, he said. "Oh please, there's not a chance in hell you'd have a higher alcohol tolerance than me."

"We'd spend what little time we have together, and I sober myself up before I drive you home." It agonized her to remind him that they were still friends. "Your partner would be angry at me for letting you drink so much on a weekend."

Kaeya’s lips bled internally, hearing her say those words. He would stay by her side on her soft carpet by the sofa if he had the chance. He visualized exactly what their typical day would look like. He'd lean on her shoulder, and like snow, she'd melt in his. "Do we really have to live that far? I want us to be neighbors, in maybe… 20 years?"

"Fine, we'd live right next to each other." Rosaria said, leaning forward so her face wouldn't show how her brows began to wrinkle her forehead. "We'd have those shared fruit trees in the back though. I'll take whatever sunsettias I can."

"It'll be sour. So sour on your side." Kaeya pushed her shoulder. "I'd still give you the sweet ones since you'd probably have the best house pet. I'd come and visit just to see it."

Rosaria turned to him, pointing to herself, raised eyebrow and all, "You're not even going to acknowledge the homeowner? man, fuck you." She pushed him back.

"Yeah because at least it won't be late to class." The bell rang just as he predicted it. "Last one to Mr. Yang's class doesn't wipe their ass when they take a shit!" Taunting her as they both ran back to their building, all the way at the opposite side of the campus.

"You ass!" Rosaria ran to him and was amused at how easily she caught up. "Last one has to pay for cornetto later." Noticing the passing volleyball and basketball joint varsity jog, she rushed through. Leaving Kaeya trying to move past them. She was then blocked by the construction worker's materials stacked by their path.

No matter the obstacle, they still arrived at their classroom seconds before the afternoon prayer. The same old prayer they memorized even if their ears were blocked with their heartbeats and breaths. The same old prayer neither of them cared to listen to.

As they discussed the relevance of historical events per Mr. Yang's guidance, Kaeya noted every architectural detail Rosaria said to his question. He did his best to hide the fact that the subject of his notetaking was taking a light nap from the history instructor. The breeze of a February afternoon filled the room and fluttered the curtains, perfectly hiding the sleeping girl at the farthest back of the class.

Years passed, and he still kept that same old notebook with the same old prayer engraved at the back. Historical notes filled the front, and several pages at the back were what she said. She, too, kept a similar notebook, except it was her personal journal. It told details about how Kaeya looked that day and what he asked. It was brief. A mere paragraph at least, but it was enough to fill her pages with emotions she felt.

Kaeya asked me what house I wanted to live in. To be honest, I really don't care. A roof, no roof, broken walls, tall fences, fancy windows, none of it matters. He just had to be there.

My home Our home.

He also told me that if we're still single by 30, we should get married for the benefits. It was a passing statement, but I really hoped he would stay a loser so I could be by his side when his back begins to crack when he turns 30.

Kaeya shouldn't have read the contents of his wife's journal from 15 years ago. Now, Rosaria has to explain to him that she's really into him since they were young. Enduring his constant teasing was the worst, especially since he has hard, undeniable, written evidence. That doesn't mean she doesn't retaliate. She often stayed by the kitchen and patio she dreamed of whenever he did peek. That night, he decided to corner her in their bedroom. Reminding him of how much he had loved her since they were 16.

"Looks like someone had a huge crush on me." He said, looming over her just before she slept, continuing to bully her under their blankets. "What's wrong? It's not too late to admit it."

"Oh fuck off! You bought our house with my interests in mind. If anything, you have a huge crush on me." The weight of Rosaria's covers grew as Kaeya rested his body on top of her. Feeling pokes and hearing his lips smack over the duvet, she was kissed on her shoulder, chest, and forehead. At least, that's what it felt like for her. "You have a terrible aim." she peeked over and saw him preparing for that moment.

There are times when Rosaria keeps her journal out in the open. If he can egosurf online, there's a high chance he could egosurf his name through her journals. She ensured it was the one where she told him how much she loved him. Rosaria's cheeks were soft and warm, much like her lips. Kaeya couldn't get enough of it. "Whose got a terrible aim now?" he said, wiping her trial lip stain she put on earlier in the morning. "Look at you, so pretty and red. I think this shade is nice on you."

Rosaria mustered all her strength and rolled Kaeya over. Allowing himself to be rolled in the duvet they always shared. "Hmm… I don't think I'd like it when something isn't transfer-proof, but…" She grabbed his cheeks and placed a new coat on her lips. "I guess I won't mind testing this a few more times on my beloved."

"Rosie?" Kaeya's heart began to race, "please, mercy!!" There was no mercy left for him.

Pinned down, receiving many kisses all over his face, ears, neck, and collarbones. It was quite an eventful evening for the two. Hopefully, they remembered to check their calendars. It was the eve of their first wedding anniversary, after all. It's good that Kaeya is oblivious to Rosaria’s intentional revelation of everything she loves about him. Else, she would’ve been drowning in countless words she couldn't have the strength to say out loud.

"Sit still. I can't kiss your lips if you keep laughing and turning your head away from me." Rosaria held onto his soft cheeks. "Now turn this way and let me make up for the 15 years I didn't say it."

"Oh my fucking god. Rosie, I love you, so please spare me." He pleaded through his dimple smile.

"Not a chance."

♡

[0aurelion-sol0]

@byler-burn-book is the cringiest shit that has ever happened in the Byler tumblr community. Honey, go get yourself an actual personality instead of acting like you're some sort of cyber-vigilante. 😒 You're acting like a creep yourself, go sing "Every Breath You Take" and stop bothering us & other people with your pointless drama. You're not actively doing anything that helps anyone, you're just doing this because you want to be seen as morally superior and better than everyone on here. You're pathetic.

And it also concerns a lot of you, the newer bylers that have flooded the Byler tumblr tag after S4, most of y'all start dramas and problems to make yourself look interesting when y'all aren't. You're trying to give lessons to people who have built this community on this platform since forever and have been here longer than you when your literal media literacy about Byler & ST begins and stops at "blue meets yellow in the f*cking west". 👀

We all know a lot of you have come from Twitter and are bringing in your nasty fandom dynamics with you. Like go back there, no one wants you here. I don't want this app to turn into something as boring and annoying as the Twitter fandom spaces, especially the ST ones.

Y'all need to sit down and stay in your lanes, y'all weren't the first here and you are not going to tell people what to do, LET'S BE VERY CLEAR ABOUT THAT. 💅

Plus this is just the beginning, get ready for what comes next, I have far more scores to settle.

[celiaelise]

I got caught up on the Shadows House manga! (spoilers!!! don't read this if you haven't read it :p)

(well, almost. The latest chapter hasn't yet been posted on the app I have that gives me manga in English, so I haven't read 158.)

I have SO many thoughts!! First of all, it did throw me off how the anime stuck so closely to the manga except for, like, adding an ENTIRELY NEW PLOT ARC which completely disrupted the timelines of when certain things were revealed to the characters. Like, if I remember correctly, the main characters in the manga still haven't ever infiltrated Grandfather's house, Kate only used a Veiled Doll disguise when they were in the Star Bearers' tower to avoid Suzanna, and they have no information about Edward's soot powers. So that's weird. And the Edward of the manga seems much more subtle than to do something as brash as kidnap Emilico.

I guess they wanted a very dramatic ending for the first season? But it seems probably unnecessary to me. Like, I didn't hate that part of the show, but I don't think I would've liked the show less without it. Plus, it removes a lot of the mystery and raises plot hole-type of questions about who knows what and who's, like, in the house. (and also how John got back? I think he said he held onto Edward's bird, but then where was he when Edward got there???) I think it probably would've been dramatic enough to end with the fallout of the debut, and the brainwashing/human reveal.

I am now going to share a bunch of my thoughts on various parts of the story, in no particular order. Sorry about the super long post, I know probably more people would read this if it was broken up, but I didn't want to flood the tag or my own blog.

Maryrose and Rosemary omg!!! 😭🥺😭🥺😭 I love them so much! I think their story was pretty much exactly the same as the show. I did notice, I think just because it was my second time around, that Rosemary doesn't talk, like, at all in the big showdown, or afterward when she's detained, except for when she reveals herself and then hugs Shaun and Emilico. Maryrose does all the talking, and it's kind of set up as just a fight between her and Kate and John, and then, later, Edward. Which I guess makes sense, given the circumstances of their relationship, and especially how they're used to interacting with others, or maybe that's just their personalities. But it would have been sweet to see them behave more like equal partners. I guess I may be projecting Kate and Emilico onto them a bit 😅 They are still great though, of course.

ANYWAY, I have a THEORY!! Or maybe more of a wish? I think it would be really cute if Rosemary and Maryrose ran away to join the circus! 🎪 They already have a lot of parallels to Kate and Emilico, so it kinda makes sense!! Especially considering that Maryrose can't disguise her shadow form, so it will be hard for them to integrate into normal society. (like Kate...) We already know they love to perform, they can do supernatural tricks with soot powers, and "the beauty and her shadow" would be an easy gimmick, as well as an interesting inversion of their relationship at Shadows House. Hopefully they can find one with a nicer ringmaster than Emilico's, but they're also much more prepared to throw down with a grown man than she was.

It was SO satisfying to me when the Patrick and Louise pairs finally got filled in on everything!!! Frankly I did not understand why nobody told poor Patrick about the soot powers right after the debut; it's not like Kate cares about respecting authority. And then even Rum came back 💜 I love when they all get to be a happy little family together 🥰🥰

In general I appreciate how many things seem to go well in this story, especially because it's usually because the characters have decided to work together and trust each other. Even though the fate of their uprising is far from sealed, it's still already had a lot of success, like them befriending the Star Bearers and eliminating the coffee. I feel like in a lot of other stories everything would have to fall apart so much more for the main characters before they got anywhere close to their goals. Which, like, of course there's nothing wrong with that, I just prefer a bit less hopelessness in my stories. Like, the Star Bearer election was such a huge victory!! And they just got to have that! (obviously there will be fallout, but they still got it, y'know?)

The criticism of capitalism really is, like, glaring. I feel like it's most obvious for me in the chapter where Emilico considers that she may have been less miserable if she kept drinking the coffee, but then Kate tries to help clean, and shares her table with her, and cheers her up. It's a tiny piece of the overall story, but it's such a sweet little reminder of, "this system exists to control us by breaking us down, and it will absolutely succeed if we are not there for each other. Relationships, empathizing with one another's struggles, and providing hope and help where it is needed are essential for progress." As someone who has dealt with burnout, that was really...yeah...🥺

I am so curious about where the story is going with Lou and Louise!!! Even before the recent invitation, I kept thinking, "we really don't know that much about them..." Louise's obsession with Lou's beauty is clearly unhealthy, and I assume it's inhibiting her own sense of identity. She's not the most thoughtful, and of the main team, seems to understand the least why what Shadows House is doing is wrong. I'm not even convinced she ever stopped brainwashing Lou, though I don't think she'd realize that's what she was doing. Especially because, in the manga, her powers weren't a huge discovery for her, she was just like, "oh yeah, that's something that I do". And when all the human kids are remembering their home and the selection together, Lou struggles to have an emotional reaction the way everyone else does. That reminded me of when Kate first broke Emilico's brainwashing after the debut, and she was confused at not being able to associate sadness with the memory of Rum and Shirley's loss. However, I do think Louise is firm enough in her connection to the group and their ideals that she won't be comfortable going along with unification. Even if she doesn't feel Edward is giving her a choice, she won't be like, "oh okay this is fine".

I have NO idea where they're going with Sarah and Mia. Someone in the tag pointed out that it looks like Sarah is crossing to the other wing along with Louise, and idk what to do with that!! Honestly, I have been a little confused by their characterization in general, because the first things we learn about them are the Sarah is mean and cruel, while Mia is helpful and kind, only for that to... not quite seem to be the case. Everyone seems to think Sarah is well-meaning but immature, and Mia begins to be the driving force behind Emilico's antagonization. I mean, it does seem like nobody would be aware of Sarah's abuse, and I can see that Mia's attitude toward Emilico would change once she is perceived to be a threat. But the abuse in particular seemed to sort of be swept under the rug? Like, they introduced it and then never mentioned it again, until Mia herself initiated it, which may not be odd if Sarah hadn't become a much more central character. (idk, I'm probably overthinking it!) Anyway, some people were saying they don't think Mia's going to make it, but idk...if either of them dies, it would be the closest-to-the-main-characters character to have a confirmed death yet. And if Mia, specifically, were to die, we'd have a faceless shadow, which we've never had to deal with before, because the Belles were able to share their...Belle. (speaking of whom, is Emi the only one who cares that she LOST HER TWIN SISTER??) Would Sarah be doomed to the death Rum described, or would our group have to rescue and hide her, somehow?

Speaking of all the Belles, again, I really feel like Barbara ought to apologize to them, specifically. She tried pretty hard to kill all of them, and succeeded with one out of four. Because if Belle hadn't made it, they'd have gotten rid of Isabelle and Mirabelle, right? I know Barbara has enough angst happening right now already, but, like, are we gonna talk about that??

Oh yeah, ANTHONY. What a little freak. His backstory puts him in one of the most sympathetic positions in the whole story, but after only a few short appearances, every reader is creeped out by him!! Truly an accomplishment. I mean, we can assume he was emotionally broken by the loss of Christopher, but still. Be cool, dude. One very interesting mystery surrounding him is that of Christopher's soot powers!!! I assume he has some of his soot in the vial, (a bit macabre, to think of him gathering it from a corpse) and is using it to do mind control of some sort?

(I do feel very bad for Barbara btw. Especially after she made such progress by opening up to everyone! I don't mean to gloss over that, I just don't have much to say about it.)

Okay, okay. KATE. 🎀🌹 Dearest, darlingest, mysterious girl. I was so happy when we finally learned the truth about her doll!!! Emilico meeting her (and everyone else tbh) in the village before they went to the House seemed kind of jarringly coincidental, but once I was able to suspend my disbelief in serendipity, it was really sweet!!! 😊🥰 And her having a different history then the other shadows makes her so much more interesting! (Though it does make Maryrose seem like more of an anomaly...) It's kind of funny that so many characters have a second, secreter backstory behind their secret backstory. Has anyone else considered that Kate may already actually be the equivalent to an "adult" shadow, the perfect union of a morph and a human?? I was going to say that she's the death-free version of what Gramps is trying to do, but then I remembered her mother died, so that's a lie. Possessing and killing pregnant women is actually not more ethical than whatever is currently going on.

Romance! As a lesbian who finds most "teen romance" stories grating, I kind of like what Shadows House has done so far, with the characters having various crushes and largely not acting on them, and that taking a backseat to both the main plotlines and their friendships. The crushes are more a vehicle for the characters learning about themselves than for drama. Probably eventually people will start getting together and that will change and I'll get annoyed, but 🤷🏻‍♀️. The only ones who are like "uwu we're made for each other 😚💕" are the ones who literally WERE. I like the head canon that Kate is a lesbian, and I don't really ship anything except the Roses, of course, and kinda Kate and Emilico. But that's, like...the whole story is about their love for each other, regardless of the form it takes? Not to be like, "they don't need to be gay because their friendship is just as strong", but it is. (I do think they're gay, though) I think I picture them ending up together, but, maybe, like, in a few years?? They are still learning that they are even people. (no hate if you do ship more, though. That's just me.) And I like imagining the main squad as found family besties. Like, "I used to be in love with you when we barely knew each other, then we got close, did a revolution together, and now both we and the shape of that love have changed so much, but we're all still here," type of friends.

Speaking of years, I wonder if the story's timeline will be clarified? rn it's, like, super ambiguous, and I think that might be intentional, but I wonder if we'll get answers.

Oh, okay! I think this'll be the last topic, and it's a totally superficial one. Kate's new digs!!!! ♥️ The scene where everyone came to say hi was so cute, I loved that. Do you think she'll have it redecorated to fit her color scheme more? Also, does this mean Emilico gets a nicer room, too??? And will this make it harder or easier to meet up with the others? Farther away, well, except for Patrick, now, but possibly more space and more freedom? And does Rum always patrol the tower? Cause then they'd get to see her all the time! In general I'm excited for what new things Kate will have access to as a star bearer, but that also means that if the adults find out about the coffee, she'll be blamed for sure.

All right, that's finally it! Thank you for reading, if you read all of this, I love you so much!!! Please tell me what you think about any of my theories or thoughts or whatnot. 💕

[fadebolt]

Dang, the final day of round one, it got here so fast! I gotta say, your capability to keep doing this every day for this many months is something I truly respect. Not many people have the capability to show such levels of dedication to a random hobby. I know I have missed out on a bunch of days during this round, while the other polls were running, and I apologize for that. I just didn't want to have to worry about so many polls constantly, while also having to keep up with my college studies. It's usually best not to have too much stuff that my brain would need to constantly be keeping up with xd But if anyone is interested on what my thoughts are about a particular room that I didn't address (…which are most of them, in retrospect), then feel free to ask me.

Oh, and I almost forgot - you didn't include Farm Arrays in the tags, hehe :D (but I choose to believe that was intentional because Farm Arrays is… you know, Farm Arrays) And now, let's get onto the last list of this round!

Personal room ranking:

1 - Metropolis: cramped (9/10) 2 - Waterfront Facility: C01 (8/10) 3 - The Rot: A09 (8/10) 4 - Farm Arrays: D06 (7/10) 5 - Waterfront Facility: C12 (6/10) 6 - Garbage Wastes: PIPE12 (6/10) 7 - Five Pebbles: C06 (6/10) 8 - The Exterior: E03 (5/10) 9 - Shaded Citadel: C01 (4/10)

Extra comment: You might be wondering, is this a good note to close the round out on? And to that, I can only give a solid "Maybe?"

Admittedly, most of these are pretty decent. Cramped is my favorite, mostly because it's a room with a boring purpose, but a unique design, and I really like it when the devs do that. Just because a room isn't important, it doesn't mean that it has to be a carbon copy of some other rooms from the region, after all (but it absolutely can be, of course, I'm just gonna rate it too high in that case, like in the case of PIPE12 here). I don't think the name describes it very well, since this place doesn't look cramped at all, but you can't see the names in-game, so I can forgive that.

As for the others, a couple of them seem to be making it through, and I'd say pretty much all of them deserve it (and I'm going through them all, cus if there's one reblog that deserves to go even longer, it's this one). C01 is a great example of how to modify an already existing room. You can easily tell which specific Shoreline room this is, while the layout, aesthetic and general feel of it fits Waterfront Facility perfectly. One thing I'm slightly annoyed by is how this new layout makes grabbing the Jellyfish unlock very trivial, but considering the insane mobility of Artificer, Rivulet and Saint, Downpour players could have still very easily bypassed the challenge.

D06 is creative, but it does have some frustrating elements. As an overall design package, though? Yeah, it does work, especially with the rain's flooding mechanic allowing the shelter to be accessible from the bottom, if need be. I'm sure a lot of us have used that, and we all felt like a really clever scug when we did that :)

A09's idea is simple, but effective, throwing off the player by closing off the old path with the rot, while opening up an entirely new one with the collapse. This region does that a lot in general, but it's a great way to let players know that this'll be a lot more than just "FP, but with a higher number of DLLs, and inconsistent gravity". Proto DLLs not being placed annoyingly is also a plus.

And the last one to make it is…. C01? That's weird, cus I have an enormous love for Shaded, yet even I don't really about this room too much. It does fit in well, and it doesn't have anything particularly bad about it, but it's also one of those rooms that I wouldn't mind seeing removed. Its rightside parts are kind of neat, I guess.

And now, for the last and most certainly the least - E03, which didn't get a single vote XD I wanted to mention that one, because I actually really like it in campaigns where it has a DLL. However, I have visited it as Hunter. And I can safely say that I've never made a bigger mistake in this game. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if the Precipice and Waterfront Facility were made, just so that Spearmaster and Artificer can go around that godforsaken room. I sure did that, I have absolutely no regrets about it. So yeah, it's quite satisfying to see my feelings get validated like this.

Pick Your Favorite Rain World Room, Day 181.2

This is not single elimination! Every room with at least 10.0% vote will move on to the next round.

There is a hidden slugcat in one of the rooms (they can be in any color). If u can see it comment or reblog with where they are and if u are first, u get a cookie!

Credit for game screenshots goes to: Rain World Interactive Map, Rain World Wiki and me

Congratulations for day 180.2 winners!