#quite yet. but i already feel empty... like a huge part of my head and heart are missing. and i havent eben taken off yet but this is hard. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

egglain · 20 days ago

Text

Feel You (In My Bones) - Prayer (On Your Knees, To My Strap)

Rating: E (18+) - mdni Pairing: Toji x reader Content: gender-neutral reader (you/yours pronouns), afab language for reader's anatomy, gunplay, oral (both receive), ass play (ass job/non-penetrative), copious amounts of dirty talk, mentions of breeding, mild exhibitionism, hit-it-n-quit-it toji fushiguro Word Count: 2.9k/?

Summary: You accept a drink from the scarred man at Gojo's Halloween party.

The Toji route of Feel You (In My Bones)

“One drink.”

Green eyes danced with amusement—predatory hunger subdued by your willing submission. Heat flooded the pits of your belly.

“You got it, gorgeous.”

“And I’m coming with you to get it.”

“I didn’t expect anything less.”

A large hand dwarfed yours, pulling you through the crowd. It was warm and sandpaper rough; clearly a working man’s hands. Electricity shot from where you were connected to your shoulder, shivers following in close pursuit. His large frame managed to split the sea partygoers like it was nothing, merely small ships capsizing in the wake of his size.

In the kitchen—a luxurious thing, closed off from the rest of the house—he poured you a drink like a gentleman, though the way he was looking at you was anything but. Your hand stretched out to grab the solo cup, but he brought the brim to your lips himself.

“Allow me.”

Weird, but… alright.

Your lips parted around the plastic, heat spreading down your throat as the alcohol trickled across your tongue and down your chin.

“Good.”

Something between your legs pulsed.

What the fuck?

He hadn’t done anything sexual; yet, the way he said it, the way he was grinning down at you, felt embarrassingly intimate.

As you emptied the cup, a thick thumb wiped away the droplets gathering at the corners of your mouth and the trails of alcohol along your chin.

“All done already?” He licked his thumb clean.

Once again, you were throbbing.

Fuck.

Who was this guy?

He looked older—too old to have hung out with Shoko and Utahime in high school. He wasn’t Gojo Satoru. No— aside from the age, the working hands made that unlikely. What did he say his name was again? Did he even mention it?

You opened your mouth to ask, but he beat you to it.

“Throat all warmed up?”

You choked back a little laugh. Mirth danced in those emerald eyes, coupled with something else—something akin to a secret. A thinly-veiled suggestion.

“Yeah, I… I guess you could say that.”

“Good. You’ll be needing that.”

***

Turns out, you did.

He was huge.

In a large hand, a cock seemingly the size of your forearm pulsed angrily. The man—Toji, you’d come to learn—leaned against the counter with his back to the kitchen entryway.

“Toji…” you trailed off, eyes flicking between the doorway and his exposed lower half. It wasn’t much; he had only lowered his fly and pulled himself out. But the shake of his arm as he stroked himself was unmistakable. Anyone who came in would know what was happening. “What if someone comes in here?”

He shrugged with one arm—the one that wasn’t busy—and grunted non-committally.

“Guess we’ll have to make this quick then, doll. Knees.”

Just like that, kneecaps hit cold marble.

That thing was a monster. Veins bulged down to his fat base and up his untrimmed pelvis, feeding into the sliver of abdomen peeking out from under the hem of his tight shirt. It was beautifully tanned, bulbous head flushed in pretty need. Hefty, it hung low as he moved his hand to cup your jaw. At the lack of stimulation, his dick twitched in protest—once, twice—precum welling up at the tip.

Your throat went dry.

A fat thumb pressed to your lower lip, salty and tangy. The unmistakable taste of precum. You closed your lips around it, and the man hummed his approval.

“Ya like that, gorgeous? Open up f’me.”

The thumb gave way to his cock, leaky tip tapping against your bottom lip and smearing more of that sticky, salty precum. As your tongue darted out to lap it up, Toji rutted against your mouth.

“C’mon,” he huffed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was whining.

“Keep being impatient n’ I’ll bite this dick off.” God, Shoko really did rub off on you. “I’m getting to it.”

The hitman barked a laugh above you, head thrown back.

“Getting lippy now, are we? Bad fuckin’ move.”

Just like that, a big hand weaved its way through your hair at the scalp, clenching around roots. The pressure was heady—a dull ache built in your skull as he pulled that mouth forward, lips splitting at the seams as his impossible girth worked your mouth open. Saliva bubbled out from behind your lips, forced out by the intrusion, and he was laughing once more.

“Not so chatty now, huh? That’s it, doll. Take it nice.”

He pulled you forwards by your hair, leaking tip dragging a trail of sweltering precum across your tongue and down your throat. As glans met uvula, tears prickled the backs of your eyelids. Your gag reflex wasn’t bad, but it was there—and his width would have even the most experienced choking. You stifled a cough, but the saliva was dripping down your chin now, throat working to eject the intruder.

“Hands on my thighs, baby. Squeeze if you needa tap out.”

Your nails met his jean-clad thighs, meaty and hot. Grounding.

You focused on breathing through your nose as he slid in deep, fat cock pulsing low in your throat. You could feel your skin molding to his shape, bulging at the entry.

As nose met pubic bone, you felt more than heard the man grunt. He smelled strong. Masculine. Musky. Sweaty, earthy, with a hint of Old Spice; it had your heart fluttering and your underwear uncomfortably wet.

“There we go.” He said it on an exhale, rolling off the tongue as if praise was second nature. His hips canted forward with need, but his grip loosened on your hair, giving you some room to breathe. “Suck this cock.”

Lips pursed around his girth, you slid backward, then forward again. Building up a rhythm, you bobbed your head up and down his too-hot length. Each time it found its way a little too deep, your eyes rolled into your skull on their own as you fought back a gag. Every time this happened, he rolled his hips forward, pressing just a little deeper down your throat. If the grunts and pants were anything to go by, he liked it better when you were gagging on it.

The wetness between your legs was impossible to ignore now.

You pressed your thighs together, shifting your seating position to mitigate the feeling. Toji didn’t miss the movement. His gaze—which you hadn’t even realized was on the ceiling—landed heavy on yours.

“Open those legs.”

You pulled off his cock with a pop, sucking back spit as you wiped your mouth with a sleeve. “That’s got nothing to do with this.”

“I’m not playin’ around. Open your legs.”

“Or what?” You grinned, and fuck that musk had to be messing with your head because you’d never felt better. You held all the power here. “You’ll make me throat your little dick again?”

Cold metal pressed against your chin.

The barrel of a gun nudged your face up to meet his.

When did he—?

“Don’t get mouthy with me.”

With the weight and the cold feel of the polished metal, it had to be the real deal. Your stomach fell into your toes.

Something between your legs throbbed.

“Stand.”

Heart slamming into ribs, you complied. Big hands brought you to the counter, lifting you up to sit on the cool stone. The pistol lay discarded next to you, glinting in the low kitchen lights. Thick fingers made quick work of the lower half of your costume, and before long, the man was between your thighs.

Nose met pubic bone, dragging down the sensitive skin of your pelvis. Deep breaths sent shivers up your spine, ghosting against your too-wet cunt. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit as his mouth opened against your entrance. A thick tongue swiped at the wetness there, gliding from your ass to the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

“Smells delicious. Can’t believe you were tryna keep this from me.”

He sniffed you like a dog as he devoured your pussy, strong tip of his meaty tongue dipping into your entrance and under your clitoral hood to coax the bud to stiffness. The slurping was obscene as he sucked the wetness out of you, lapping at your entrance like a parched man.

With a firm clasp of his lips around your clit, you were bowing back on the counter, red solo cups and empty liquor bottles toppling over. A big hand held you down, fat digits splayed across your pelvis. The other wasn’t visible from your line of sight—but the tremor in his huffing breaths and the distinct shaking of his body gave you a good idea of where it was.

He sucked at your clit, hand on your pelvis sliding down to prod at your entrance. Your warm flesh parted for him, massive middle finger slipping inside naturally. Stars blinded your vision as he curled it upwards, drumming against your G spot with practiced ease. Canines scraped gingerly against the nerves between his lips, and you had to bite the back of your hand to muffle the embarrassing noise that threatened to escape.

“Hiding from me now?” Toji grinned up at you sleazily.

Your juices ruined his chin, glimmering gold in the warm lighting as they dripped obscenely from his mouth.

You shook your head, too scared to answer aloud; you weren’t confident in the integrity of your voice right now.

“Better not be…”

Green shifted from you to the gun by your hip. You followed his gaze, swallowing—dry and painful.

“Wouldn’t want to hafta punish you for misbehaving now.”

A shiver tore through you, zapping towards your aching hole.

“Cummin’ on me already? Without askin’ first?” Toji laughed, leaning back in to lap at your pussy around his big finger. “Gonna hafta punish this slutty pussy real good then.”

Your hole clenched and unclenched around his finger, sensitive where it was still toying with you.

“Toji—”

“You whining now?” He pulled out, licking himself clean. “Haven’t even started. You gonna be good for me n’ take it?”

His eyes fell once more on the gun, then back between your legs. Your hole sputtered out fluid at the sight. The older man grinned, cracking his neck.

“Ya like, baby?” The hand that was inside you, covered in his spit, reached for the handle. “Just got so wet.”

Cold metal pressed against heated flesh as the barrel of the gun rested heavily on your thigh. Your legs flinched at the contact, flying shut. With a tsk of his tongue, Toji nudged your knees apart using the muzzle. He dragged it up the inside of your left thigh, and you watched, transfixed, as it made contact with your clit. He nudged the nerves experimentally, watching as the nub twitched, throbbing with fear and arousal.

“Needy little thing.”

He dragged the muzzle down between your labia, bumping it up against your hole experimentally. Shivers ran down your legs and up to the top of your head, leaking out as the gun pressed inside slowly.

Toji fucked the barrel of the gun into you shallowly, head tilted to the size lazily as he took in his handiwork. Clear watery fluid dribbled down the polished barrel and onto his hand, your need spilling onto his wrist.

The intrusion sent chills up your walls, electrified as the muzzle stretched you out wider than his fat finger. The sight of it disappearing inside was alarming; your heart slammed behind your sternum, jostling you minutely. It was impossible to watch. Each thrust hit a little deeper, and soon the older man’s hand was bumping up against you from where it was wrapped around the handle.

Thick index on the trigger, your eyes screwed shut; you bore down on the barrel, hips pushing back onto the gun rhythmically.

“Good… ride that gun f’me, slut.”

Your orgasm slammed into you before you could process you were even close, thighs trembling with the effort of staying open and the zaps of pleasure from your untouched clit.

Toji pulled the gun out, inspecting your handiwork as you caught your breath. He whistled, low, as he dried it off on his shirt.

“My turn.”

Before you could gather your thoughts, you were being flipped, chest-down on the cold marble of the counter. Like this, you faced the entrance to the kitchen; with all the adrenaline and dopamine, you had completely forgotten where you were. A large hand pushed up the top of your costume, exposing the soft skin of your back. You pushed up onto your elbows, trying to get your footing back, but a smack to your ass had you stilling.

Warmth spread up your spine as the man pressed his chest against you, nosing at the column of your throat. Hot lips left hotter kisses at the junction of your jaw and neck—up, up, up—before teeth met earlobe.

“Not done yet.”

“Toji, we really shouldn’t be—”

Smack.

“Just shut up n’ take what I give ya.”

Long and hot, the shape of his cock was unmistakable as it slipped between the mounds of your ass. And just like that, he was thrusting—humping like a dog in heat.

You could feel the glide smoothen out as precum slicked your crevice, drooling out from his pulsing cock.

It was hot.

He was hot. Burning up from where he was pressed up behind you.

And fuck, was he vocal.

Grunting in your ear, panting against your hair, he was an animal.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—fuckin’ hell.”

Heavy balls smacked against your swollen clit, one hand dropping to pull your cheeks open. A thumb pressed dangerously close to the entrance of your ass, and you flinched at the sensation. The older man chuckled, rewarding you with a softer smack to the meat of your thigh.

“Dirty fuckin’ whore for it… beggin’ to have this little hole wrecked, huh?”

You could feel the roughened skin of his lip working against your ear as he spoke, warm and low.

“Gaped open on this fat cock, leakin’ seed all over this wet lil’ pussy.”

You gasped into the tile, hiding your face behind an arm. If people saw now—the way he was moving behind you, the flush on your face—your actions would be unmistakable. Pearls of arousal rolled down your right thigh slowly.

“You want this dirty old man knockin’ you up, huh? Hey, now—” a thick arm bullied its way under your neck, lifting your head up in a chokehold, forcing you to arch back into him. “Answer me when I’m talkin’ to ya. Or is your little pussy feelin’ too good, even though I’m not even touchin’ her?”

“No—”

“Address me properly.” The bicep flexed, and your head spun. You could breathe, but it wasn’t enough—he was pressing against something in your throat that had you seeing stars, heart pounding in your ears.

“No, sir,” you bit out, voice roughened from the hold he had on your esophagus.

“Good.” He relaxed his arm, rewarding you with a grunt.

Your forehead met stone as you trembled, the movement of his too-hot cock coupled with the rush of oxygen absolutely dizzying. You could feel the flex of his abdomen with each thrust against your body, and the heat of precum pooling in the small of your back.

Wet heat flooded the inside of your ear as his tongue flicked against it.

“Gonna cum all over this perfect ass.”

Sparks shot through your legs as two fat fingers met your clit, pinching and rolling as his thrusts grew erratic. His tip snagged on your rim over and over, sticky and twitching.

“Scream my name, baby. Want everyone at the party to hear my little whore.”

He worked your clit with a rapid finger, tapping, swiping, and vibrating against it in a way that had your mind blanking out. You swallowed back a yelp, biting into the back of your hand to stifle the embarrassing noises threatening to spill out.

With a grunt, heat coated the mounds of your ass; thick milky ropes of cum coated your back and cheeks, fat cock twitching wildly where it was sandwiched in your crack. Those fingers never stopped, pussy clenching around nothing as he wrung out another orgasm from you.

A broken moan escaped your lips as your release coated his fat balls, black and blue dancing behind your eyelids as they squeezed shut so tight it hurt. Toes curling, you pressed back into him, rewarding you with one last spurt—thick nut drooling down the cleft of your ass.

Hot breath fanned against your cheek as he panted, sweat dripping from his bangs onto the counter as his head hung low.

“Fuck, baby…”

Just like that, he was pulling away, tucking his softening cock back into his black jeans. He lifted the bottom of your costume back over the swell of your ass, not even bothering to clean you off first.

“Toji—”

The doors to the kitchen burst open, drunken partygoers spilling in just as the older man pulled away.

“This was fun. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Before you could ask for his number, a tissue, or anything at all—he was gone.

Once more, you were alone.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushigro x reader #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk x you smut

70 notes · View notes

bellysoupset · 8 months ago

Note

Ahh love Max already! 😍 Would love a part 2 with Vince driving and taking him home, him just being so dazed and nauseous the whole time

Typed at the speed of light, part 2!

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

Max wasn't sure which way was up and he was fine with it. As far as he was concerned, he really didn't need to move for the rest of his days. Not when every single movement caused his stomach to surge up his throat and his belly to complain loudly.

There was a noise outside of the nurse's inner office and Max forced the eye that wasn't currently pressed to the thin pillow to open. His sight was blurry and it took him a minute to realize that the giant at the door certainly wasn't the insufferable school nurse, Mrs. Doyle.

"How are you?" Vince's voice was soft, but it still felt like his whole head was gonna explode from the tone. Max curled up, pulling his knees to his chest and shivered violently.

"Dying."

Vince chuckled at that, "yeah, okay-" he crossed the room and Max let out a groan as he felt the guy's huge hands on his arms, forcing him to sit up.

The movement made his head swim and the blonde let out a groan as his spine all but gave up on him, his face mushing on Vince's chest.

At least the guy was quite comfy, Max thought sleepily, sinking into his warmth-

"Hey," Vince patted his cheeks, "wake up, c'mon."

"Gonna hurl," Max groaned, grimacing at the patting sensation and forcing his eyes open again, "my gutssmessed up."

Vince snorted, "I really don't think you have anything left to puke. Where are your car keys?"

"You robbing me?" Max frowned, beyond confused and Vince's eyebrows took a dip at the middle, before they cleared up.

"No, you idiot, I have a motorcycle. I can't drive you home on that."

"Ah," Max nodded, then pressed his forehead to Vince's shoulder again and let out a heavy sigh as he felt the nausea come back up, "you should... move."

"Car keys?" Vince squeezed his nape and Max let out a little burp, feeling his whole body jostle with a hiccup.

"Ba-AG!" He hiccupped mid sentence and let out a groan as the act brought up another burp and with it the taste of his lunch. He knew having lunch was a mistake when his belly had already been super unsettled in the morning, but Max had simply blamed that on five beers he had had the previous night.

Alcohol always messed up his gut, he had no idea why he continued to drink it. But then again, almost everything in excess messed up his insides, he was used to it by now.

"In the bag... Teacher's lounge..." Max squeezed his eyes shut and gulped down as he felt his mouth fill up with spit and his tongue curl. He let out a little moan, feeling hot all over and then retched, his stomach squeezing painfully.

Nothing came up, but that didn't stop his body from trying again and again.

"Yeah, I got his address with Shelley," Vince's voice drifted through the open door that led to the front of Mrs. Doyle's office, "unless he moved and didn't notify the school, I know how to get there."

The nurse answered something, but Max couldn't hear her as yet another heave hit him and this time he did manage to bring up some meager amount of bile. He whined, opening his eyes and letting out a relieved sigh as he realized Monacelli had put the trash bin between his legs.

"Alright," the other teacher said, walking back in the room, "let's go."

"Can't- can't-" he gulped down twice, in order to force just the words up and not more stomach lining, "can'tmove."

"I can carry you," Vince opened a smug smile and Max' ears burned with embarrassment and humiliation. The fucking asshole was enjoying himself.

"GoUrp-" he interrupted himself with another retch and dived for the trashcan between his knees, coughing and heaving until a weak splash of chunky vomit fell inside of it. Max let out a groan, feeling utterly humiliated, "please, just kill me."

"Are you done?" Vince asked, ignoring his whining and Max gulped down, forcing up a little burp and then nodded.

"For now... Don't feel empty thought..."

"How in the hell?" Vince frowned, but stepped closer and pushed the large trashcan out from between Max's legs and then grabbed the other man by the waist, pulling him to stand up, "let's just get you in the car, okay?"

Max ducked his head and closed his eyes, vertigo be damned, as Vince pulled him into the hallway. His feverish mind kept flashing back to the classroom and the fact he had gotten ill in front of all his seniors. He was so fucked.

He hoped he could get a whole week off, because there was no way he'd be able to face the kids just tomorrow.

"Alright," Vince patted his shoulder and suddenly Max's body was put gently against cold metal, "you good to sit in the car?"

"Are you a doctor...?" Max forced his eyes to open and rubbed angrily at his forehead. Monacelli was fucking fretting over him and they didn't even know each other. For the second time even!

"What?"

"You're all over me," he cleared up, "were you a doctor in the army? What's up?"

Vince's eyebrows raised, "I'm... I'm being a decent person?" he cocked his head, "you don't have anyone to pick you up and you hurled all over and you're burning up. You'd rather I called a cab and that's it?"

Max frowned, feeling a jolt of annoyance. He knew he had no one to come get him, he really didn't need to be reminded of that.

"Yeah," he scoffed and Vince rolled his eyes.

"Get inside the fucking car."

"This is kidnap," Max groaned, but did fall into the passenger seat and closed his eyes, "you're kidnapping me as revenge for breaking your arm."

Vince chuckled at that, the sound too loud in the cramped space of Max's pick-up. He slammed his door shut, "oh yeah, all I ever wanted was to kidnap my middle school bully."

Max groaned at the word bully. He had been called this before, you didn't stay in the same town your entire life and not deal with the fact you had made some kids' life hell. He was aware he had been more than just a prick when he was 12, but that didn't make him feel any better.

At least most of the kids he had bullied had either moved out or forgiven him. Some of them were parents whose kids he taught now and that made parent-teacher nights extra awkward, but only fucking Monacelli was his coworker.

"I'm really sorry about that," Max grumbled, pressing his overheated forehead to the window and gulping down as the car movement made him even queasier, "and today."

"Today's not really your fault," he could hear Vince shrugging, "so you live here all alone? What's up with that?"

Max frowned, wiped the sweat that was collecting over his lip and lowered his window to get some cold air and hopefully push back the nausea, "it's not- It's not all alone," his stomach turned and he breathed carefully through his mouth, "my mom lives here still. Dad next town over."

"It's just you? No siblings?" Vince wasn't bothering to hide his curiosity and Max shook his head, planting his sweaty hands on the dashboard of the car and glaring at his boots. Someone had wiped them clean, probably the janitor. There was a big dark wet spot at the toes.

"No, it's just me."

Vince didn't say what he was thinking but Max really didn't need him to. He had been a teacher to Sophia and Livia for the past three years. He was well aware the Monacelli family was as tight as they came. Hell, he had heard about Vince before ever meeting him, the football star who got himself a full ride, who was now coming back to be a teacher.

Their principal, Fernanda, a woman in her early forties who had an upbeat, hip attitude, and was entirely the reason for Max getting hired in the first place, had been terrible eager about the new history teacher.

Max thought Vince's entire concept was so fucking annoying.

The car took another turn and his stomach sloshed, gurgled audibly and caused Vince to squeeze his arm, "you holding up?"

He nodded, blowing out a burp under his breath and gulping down the stomach acid trying to creep up, "how much more?"

"I think we're here..." The car slowed down, but didn't stop and Max looked up. They were in his shitty street alright, his tiny two bedroom just at the end of the street.

"Just over there," he pointed and Vince hummed, picking up some speed.

As soon as Vince parked, Max pushed the door open and heaved in the gutter. He coughed and coughed, until more bright yellow bile splattered in the dry leaves, grabbing on the door handle with all his force to keep from falling out of the car.

"Jesus," Vince thumped his back softly, "get it up, man."

"Hurtss..." Max groaned, as his throat and stomach ached something fierce. He really wanted to be knocked out.

"Let's get you inside with some water, c'mon," Vince jumped from the car and circled it quickly, in order to help him out. Max slapped his hand away the second he felt steadier on his feet.

He wasn't a total invalid, this was just a flu. A terrible, biblical-plague levels, stomach flu, but just a flu.

The blonde stumbled for the door, pressing his forehead to the wood and breathing deeply as he tried to make his hands stop shaking in order to unlock it.

"Give me that," Vince snatched his keys with a scoff, "and stop making my life harder."

"G'away," Max mumbled, thumping his forehead to the door, "you can go now."

"Get in bed and drink some water and I'll go," Vince shoved him forward unceremoniously when Max made no movement to get inside upon the door unlocking, "go."

Max groaned at the shove and stumbled in, falling against the couch. He had no strength to make it to his bed, even if that wasn't far at all given the fact his apartment was as tiny as they came.

He rolled on his back and watched Monacelli look around, wrinkling his nose in a judgmental manner and causing Max to scowl, "you're an ass."

"And this place looks like a cave," Vince shrugged, ignoring the insult and shoving the living room curtains open, forcing in some sunlight. He walked around, his giant form feeling completely out of place in such a cramped space, "where do you keep your meds?"

"Get out of my house," Max groaned, but his eyes were heavy once more. He shuddered as a wave of revulsion hit him and rushed to roll on his side, but there really wasn't anything else in his belly, not even water to bring up.

Instead he dry heaved until his ears were ringing and the couch felt like it was swimming. A huge hand grabbed his chin, then his nape- Then a cold glass pressed to his mouth and he almost choked with relief, drinking it greedily- Only for the glass to be removed.

"You'll make yourself sick," Vince sighed, crouching next to the couch, "lets see if this stays down."

"Why are you herestill...?" Max mumbled, curling up and feeling Vince pull on his shoes.

"I'm asking myself that," Vince scoffed, then Max winced as he felt the other man drape a blanket over him, "get some sleep."

"You're so weird, man," Max sighed, letting sleep pull him down, "no self preservation."

#sickfic #mywriting #max daniels #stomach flu #emeto #emetophilia #stomach bug

74 notes · View notes

justporo · 1 year ago

Text

Words like daggers

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 5

Author's Note: Firstly, don't worry. This part was already finished some time ago. I'm really trying to keep my promise to take my time with things, but I'm SO proud of this part, so you're getting it now and I will just update the fic how I feel like it after this. Also this part is pretty long so next chapter might take a couple more days so I can catch up.

Astarion and Tav finally enter the ball which is a show of blatant excess. Conversations are had, introductions are made and by the end champagne is splashed in peoples' faces and Astarion unknowingly lets out the most vicious of mockeries. Please enjoy!

Song: Camille Saint-Saëns – Danse Macabre Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Lots of swearing, soft mention of SA, people just being dicks...

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

Slowly, the two of you made your way down the stairs to the ginormous ballroom.

Dim golden light from giant chandeliers, candles and mage lights everywhere set the atmosphere: warm, inviting, enticing and a bit gloomy; with the promise of darker corners where the light wouldn’t reach.

On the far end to one side of what could only be described as a hall was almost a full orchestra playing and the dancing was already in full swing – the middle of the room wholly reserved for couples twirling and turning. Enchanting melodies filled the room and sometimes the heavenly voice of an elven singer in front of the orchestra, precariously clothed in a white dress, drifted through the crowd.

Opposite the staircase tall windows and doors led outside where more people were standing with a view of the gardens of Herrenfordt Castle in the moonlight. A view so vast, you could see the hilly greens of the estate, then further below and seemingly an eternity away the twinkling lights of the city and the almost invisible in the darkness of the night: the river Chionthar.

And on the other side from the orchestra, you could see huge and widely thrown open doors that led to other rooms and other parts of the mansion. Quite a lot of the guests seemed to disappear into these other rooms but only few seemed to come back, mostly servants were coming from there – carrying trays loaded with more drinks and some with canapés on them. Yet the main ballroom didn’t seem to empty out anytime soon.

All around people were standing as couples or smaller groups: chatting, slandering, laughing, drinking the champagne or eating the food being offered by the many servants passing through the crowd with huge silver trays. Some seemed to be well in their cups already, staggering or sloshing their drinks while talking and gesticulating animatedly. Some couples already seemed very handsy as well – hands wandering deeper from backs to more insolent regions, décolletages emphasised with a carefully placed hand or arched back, spines straightened and shoulders rolled back to look taller and more intimidating.

Gold, diamonds and pearls seemed to be everywhere you looked. Everything and everyone was sparkling in their finery and giving off the aura of careless excess and frivolous debauchery.

Jewels shone from daunting cleavages, signet rings clanked on chalices, flamboyant headpieces swung around during coquettish laughter, deep red lips left stains on crystal glasses and silk shone like liquid in the dim lighting.

An impressive display of languid ignorance and luxurious degeneracy. And it was more than impressive even – it was intimidating.

You gulped as you let your eyes wander over the scenery and the crowd.

“Chin up, my love, we have a right to be here as much as everybody else. And also, you’re the second most beautiful person in this room, my heart”, you heard Astarion joke beside you. You gave him a look from the side as you indeed lifted your head up some more and straightened your back.

Astarion though didn’t look nervous at all. He wholly looked as if he belonged, his face now a display of arrogant boredom. And more than that even: he well looked like he could be the owner and host of all of this.

“You really have a way with backhanded compliments, you know that?”, you replied and looked down at the crowd again. Even more heads were turned towards you now, observing you as you made your entrance to this ball – and accordingly to the high society of Baldur’s Gate. But at least the pale elf at your side had managed to take the edge of your fear in that moment.

“Tell me I’m wrong, love”, Astarion replied and you could see him grin at you when you threw him another glance. “How could I?” And to that the vampire replied with a genuine smile.

As you descended the last couple of steps you could already see a young, male and pretty broad shouldered servant approach you with a tray full of broad rimmed crystal glasses filled with what you assumed must be this champagne people kept talking about – not that you ever tried it.

The servant came closer, an easy and polite smile on his lips. Seemingly, the dress code for the servants from here on out was much more casual: uniforms for men and women consisting of black pants, vests and loose white shirts which for most were only very lazily laced at the top.

“Ah, time for another lesson, my love: when someone hands you a glass of champagne: never decline!”, Astarion whispered to you as the server offered you the tray and you each carefully grabbed a glass. The server with long and loose black hair and slightly greyish skin – you were sure there must be drow in his ancestry - gave you a small wink then turned around to other guests.

You were surprised for a second and looked at Astarion who simply raised his eyebrows: “I told you, you looked incredible.” You shook your head with furrowed brows and took a sip of the sparkling champagne. As you drank you noticed how almost all faces that had previously been watching you had now turned around again. Obviously, the interest had merely been in watching you being presented like a piece of morsel on a silver platter – no one actually had any interest in getting to know you.

The champagne filled your mouth and surprised you with its taste: prickly and sharp but also with a rich sweetness that filled you and warmly eased its way down your throat. You were surprised to say you liked it.

While you drank you let your eyes wander of the crowd and found it quite diverse, but not as diverse as you were used to from your city: many humans and half-elves were present which wasn’t a surprise because they made up a large portion of the city’s overall population. Proportionally many elves were guests even which also wasn’t surprising because many were nobles and mostly represented in the Upper City. Even some tieflings or dragonborns were to be seen but rarely any dwarves, halflings or other races. Which confirmed what you had feared: while the city was generally pretty diverse and inclusive, the high society was elitist and only open too few. The champagne in your mouth tasted suddenly a bit like bile as you thought about that.

But your critical thoughts were soon interrupted by your soulmate. “Oh, what a fine drop. Dear, dear, I wouldn’t be surprised if this champagne wasn’t only older than you, my sweet, but also older than me”, Astarion said after he had taken some sips too. “This must unimaginably expensive”, he continued and let his gaze wander to you just as you had just downed the rest of your glass.

“Tav!”, he shrieked, his voice immediately several octaves higher as you blushed and realised that you had probably gulped down more money’s worth than you had paid for alcoholic beverages so far in your life. “But you said to never decline champagne”, you answered remorsefully. “Yes, decline, I didn’t tell you to down it like a pint of lukewarm beer tasting like piss”, the vampire hissed at you, but you already saw the servant from before approach again, throwing you a wicked smile and letting you swap out your empty glass for a new filled one. You thanked the server with a smile as he winked at you a second time and left again.

“And stop flirting with the staff!”, Astarion spat albeit you could hear that he was only teasing. Still, you were dangerously tempted to stomp on his foot: “I didn’t do anything! You told me to drink the champagne and suddenly I’m doing it all wrong or what? And you dragged me here all dolled up as if you wanted to show me off!” Your tone was half mad, half joking.

The vampire didn’t reply but pulled you in with a smirk by putting one arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest before he said in a tone that wasn’t remorseful at all: “I mean you’re not wrong. Maybe a bit of ‘showing you off’ was part of my plan for the night. Mostly though it was how much I could dress you up to my personal liking.” He grinned seductively at you, his lip darting out to lick over his lips and for a moment you forgot you were in public. You let yourself be kissed by the elf with open lips, your free hand digging into his doublet as the mood turned from your playful bickering to something other.

At least in the back of your mind a voice reminded you that you were very much publicly making out with Astarion. But then you remembered how you already had seen some couples very obviously sneak away to darker and deeper corners of the castle. If you were putting on a show for someone you were at least sure to blend right in with the crowd.

“And by any means, darling”, Astarion whispered to you as he broke the kiss but kept staring at your lips “keep drinking as much champagne as you like. You know people say it’s an aphrodisiac, right?” You blushed but couldn’t reply as the vampire pressed his lips to you again, one of his fangs shortly grazing your bottom lip and making you shiver.

“I’m not carrying you home though when you pass out”, he whispered when he broke the kiss again. You made a face at him although your head was still spinning from the kiss – also you were absolutely sure that he would carry you home if the need arose.

“I’m not carrying you home either, Astarion, just so were both on the same page here”, you replied and stuck your tongue out at him, then turned around. The vampire softly placed his free hand on the small of your back and softly lead you around the enormous ballroom.

You made to walk around the room for a little while, each just sipping on your champagne – Astarion now stealing naughty looks at you whenever you lifted your glass to your lips. Your partner had taken up some of his commentary from earlier as you walked around the room. Pointing out some people he knew and what their dirty laundry was as you kept drinking. Meanwhile the music and the dancing continued. Couples of all combinations entered and danced, those who left looked giddy and flushed. You were actually starting to feel excited to join them later on but for that you felt you had need of a few more glasses of champagne.

And as you were on your third and Astarion on his second glass you were suddenly approached with a subtle cough from the side as you were passing an open door that led outside.

As you looked over you saw a slender half-elf man with dodgy eyes looking at you. When you found his gaze, he cheerfully said: “Ah, you must be Lord and Lady Ancunín! Would you do us all the honours of maybe joining us for a while?”

He motioned towards a small group of people: a beautiful young tiefling woman just as slender as him but with incredibly sad eyes and blue skin that seemed to be his wife, another couple, human, consisting of a man with a bushy beard who seemed way too buff for his doublet and a woman with a dangerously deep neckline and several strands of pearls around her neck who was holding a very furry, small dog, and finally another seemingly a bit older half-elf woman with an incredibly tasteless headpiece with feathers.

You quickly looked at Astarion who looked at you and shrugged before he softly put his hand on your back again to lead you towards the strange little group.

Astarion softly whispered to you: “Remember, if you don’t feel comfortable just elbow them ‘on accident’”- he air quoted, lifting his hand from your back shortly – “and watch what happens before you leave.” You grimaced at him but felt thankful for his quip, nonetheless.

The slender one who had talked to you first introduced everyone while nervously running his hands through is sleeked back hair. You listened to all the fancy long names and titles and immediately forgot them again. But you were sure it didn’t matter anyway.

“Oh my, Lord Ancunín, how have you been hiding for so long from society, hm?”, the lady with the dog said and made eyes at your soulmate while letting one hand wander the rim of her deep cleavage, so obviously not hiding her interest in Astarion. Meanwhile, the dog on her other arm started to snarl and bark at the vampire excessively. The vampire rolled his tongue in his mouth and took a drink of his champagne as his eyes followed her hand riskily wander the outline of her breasts. You immediately felt anger rise up in you at her audacity. The grip on your glass tightened and you were sure your face must’ve immediately slipped.

You saw how Astarion’s nose softly wrinkled in disgust. His eyes jumped back to the lady and bored into her: “I haven’t exactly been hiding from society, I’ve just been otherwise occupied.”

You knew he was playing at being under Cazador’s thumb but dog lady obviously mistook his words. “Shame, really! If I had met you earlier, I would have eaten you right up, my dear”, she replied, chuckled and patted Astarion on the arm – the vampire’s nose scrunched up even more and you felt him tense beside you. He smoothly stepped out of her reach, she let her hand lay on the bare skin of her chest again and kept batting her eyelashes at him. The grip on your glass of champagne tightened even more as you felt like you had entered a den of wolves.

The rest of their little group giggled softly, obviously used to her insolent behaviour. Only the tiefling lady with the sad eyes kept simply drinking from her chalice and looking out longingly at the gardens bathed in silver moonlight.

You suddenly felt the urge to grab Astarion’s hand, so you did. You squeezed his hand reassuringly. He squeezed back a bit and lifted it up shortly to press a kiss to your fingers with a short glance towards you under the judgemental eyes of the rest of the group.

Meanwhile, the dog kept barking at the vampire. “Pomme de terre! Will you be silent for once!”, dog lady shrieked at her puppy and then shook him to silence him, much to your shock and disgust.

Astarion who had just then been taking another sip practically snorted into his glass. He lifted his chin and said with a vicious gleam in his eyes: “Vous avez nommer cet chien ‘pomme de terre’? Vraiment?” Your head turned towards him, brows furrowing – you hadn’t understood a single word of what he’d been saying.

But neither had anyone of the small group of nobles. The broad-shouldered husband of the one addressed simply coughed and emptied his drink. The rest threw each other looks that clearly stated their opinions about the two of you: scum.

“Vous êtes plus stupide que je l’imaginais, bravo!”, Astarion continued as he received only questioning looks in response again and took a deep swig of his champagne with a maliciously mocking grin. The dog kept barking and growling as the group threw each other confused looks once more. The owner of the dog looked definitely displeased by what she at least interpreted correctly as mockery at her expense.

As the silence dragged on, Astarion leaned over to you and quickly whispered to explain: “She called her dog ‘potato’ in another common tongue I am sure she does not know a single word off.”

Then he grinned at you, you grinned back. Of course, he’d be the one to know something like this and be able to call her out on it. You had to be honest: you loved it when Astarion showed off his vast knowledge, especially if it were others on the receiving end.

And you didn’t feel as intimidated anymore: they might think you were beneath them, but you knew they were beneath you – at least in terms of character.

Dog lady looked both of you up and down in a very judgemental way. Her husband motioned towards one of the servants, grabbing two glasses – one for himself and one for his wife who didn’t even look at him while taking the drink from him – and then patting the young man carrying the tray on the chest in thanks. Then silence spread again after Astarion’s mockery. Solely the dog kept barking and started to get on your nerves a little – but who could blame the creature with its bad luck in ownership.

Then suddenly a murmur started to rise through the crowd, especially inside, making everyone’s heads turn. At the top of the stairs stood a tall, blond man, elegantly dressed raising a glass towards the people who clapped and cheered. So, this was probably your mysterious host Lord De Grodt. You grabbed Astarion by his sleeve, but he was occupied with something else.

Astarion used the moment of commotion to bare his teeth and hiss at the dog who immediately stopped barking. He started to whimper and squirm in his owner’s arms, desperate to get away from what had revealed himself as the much bigger predator until the rude lady finally set him down and he could hide behind her skirts.

By the time Astarion had turned around the host had already disappeared again somewhere atop the gallery. The vampire looked quizzically at you but you just waved it off for the moment – you were already occupied enough with the nobles right in front of you.

The group started to talk again but explicitly left you out of the conversation now. Obviously, Astarion’s taunting had moved you down enormously on their list of interests – or rather him. It almost felt like you had been invisible for them from the start; not counting the very first mention.

The lady with the ugly feather headpiece started to talk about how her estate’s upkeep in Neverwinter just kept rising because personnel was just so expensive. She kept waving her hands around and you noticed she was wearing excessively big rings that were just as ugly as her hat.

You threw Astarion a glance who kept staring at the pretentious nobles and weren’t completely sure how to interpret his facial expression. You would have liked to leave but then again… You had overcome more mortal perils than you could tell, you surely wouldn’t shy away from some arrogant assholes. So you took another big sip of champagne and lifted your chin up while you let your free hand wander up Astarion’s back until it laid on his shoulder. He absent-mindedly covered it with his own as he kept staring at the others – his demeanour almost as if he were a cat focusing on the prey in front of him.

The lady with the feather headpiece noticed your gesture and looked at your joint hands on Astarion’s shoulder for a moment. Then her eyes suddenly jumped to yours with a glint in them you couldn’t quite place.

She spoke in a sudden outburst that halted all other conversation: “And so you must be the lord’s…”, she said and gave you a look that immediately gave you the feeling of being naked before her. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated yet again and stayed silent.

“I mean, I would have said wife because you were introduced as Lord and Lady but I didn’t see a ring on either of your hands and nowadays people would bring the staff they’re sleeping with.” She gave an absolutely over the top sort of laugh that made your hairs stand on end. The others joined in with mocking laughter: dog lady lifted her hand to cover her mouth and gave you a mean look. Even the tiefling gave a condescending snarl as you could feel yourself turn a deep shade of red. And you really didn’t like how it seemed the attention had now shifted to you.

“Yes, I mean, can you remember when Lord Levlon brought his ex-wife’s maid when she already had a huge belly? Nobody believed that had happened before the divorce!”, the skittish guy who had first spoken to you said and cackled.

“But don’t worry, my love, seems your beau still seems to be fairly interested in you – even though let’s see how long. Don’t take it personal but you don’t seem to be of the same standing as everyone else”, said feather hat. Your gaze snapped to hers as you felt you lost grip on the situation. They all suddenly seemed to close in on you.

“Men are so quickly captivated by a pair of young and perky breasts until they realise there’s no brain to go with the tits”, dog lady continued and placed her hand on her cleavage again and arched an eyebrow at you while smirking – as if that were the case for her.

“But do not be worried. If your lover here gets you knocked up, he’ll probably pay generous amounts of gold to keep you quiet and the child hidden”, skittish guy said with a vicious grin at you.

Astarion stared at everyone, his fingers over yours squeezing them as he was fuming with rage, almost hurting you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to say anything but rather that he didn’t trust himself to not rip them up in front of all the other guests if he dared so much as move a single finger. His brows were drawn together so much in anger, the wrinkle between them seemed impossibly deep.

“They always pay to cover up their shame”, beard guy said and downed the rest of his champagne in one go and waved for the young male servant again.

“It’s always the same, honestly”, dog lady sighed theatrically “the most beautiful ones only tend to think with their cock and the tacky little sluts seize the oppor-“

“STOP TALKING TO US LIKE THAT, BITCH!”, you screamed in a sudden outburst, burning with rage and before you could think better of it you threw the rest of your champagne in the face of this wretched woman. She gasped but was obviously dumbfounded by your short circuit reaction.

You knew your face must be fire red. You didn’t shout loud enough to raise your voice above the rest of the party, but people around surely started to raise eyebrows, turn their gaze and shake their heads.

“My, would you listen to the mouth on that thing”, the tiefling woman said with an incredibly disgusted face. The first thing she said since you had been standing there and it was to mock you. That finally made Astarion snap out of his blind rage enough to react.

The vampire downed the rest of his champagne then set down the crystal glass down so hard it cracked on the tray of the servant who had just come over and now awkwardly stood beside him and beard guy as the drama unfolded. The vampire let go of your fingers and your hand fell weakly to your side again.

“Oh, you should better fucking listen, indeed, darling”, he growled. “Because that’s quite the attitude for someone whose husband fucks a woman so tasteless, she wears dresses her tits almost fall out of”, Astarion continued and let his gaze wander to dog lady whose mouth immediately formed a surprised O.

The tiefling woman stared at Astarion in shock as her skittish husband became somehow even more skittish and started to open and close his mouth soundlessly like a fish and helplessly flailing his arms – confirming Astarion’s words without having to speak.

“Oh, you hadn’t known yet? Pity, maybe if you stopped staring off into the distance you would have noticed how they kept looking at each other and licked their lips”, the vampire went on with a huge and unfriendly grin now splitting his face. Then his gaze went back to the dog woman.

Meanwhile, your jaw almost dropped as you kept listening to him. More people around you started to turn around, some gasped as you had certainly become a centre of attention now. Murmurs rose around you.

“I wonder why though you felt like you needed to downgrade yourself so much. Ah, but maybe it’s because your husband so obviously has a thing for the male servers here and keeps making them uncomfortable with his gazes and touches”, Astarion snarled. The servant beside him gasped and then quickly turned on his heel and left.

The group was dead silent now. Only feather hat was snickering nastily. But then the vampire’s gaze fell on her: “Oh and don’t think you’ll leave as the gracious one here. The estate you pretend you’re owning in Neverwinter? It has been knocked down for decades. Maybe do better research if you’re only pretending to be rich. And get better replica rings, a blind person could tell you these are fake, dear.”

Now everyone was silent, you could only stare at your soulmate who had absolutely verbally decimated this group of pretentious nobles. But there was one final blow to be dealt.

“None of you seem to have a brain to go with anything, really – except for how much you all deserve each other’s vile company. Ah, and maybe some gold and a title that once meant something – but watch how quickly that turns to dust when you miserably rot alone”, Astarion finished with a hiss and cocked an eyebrow at the round before he gave a vicious version of his best signature smirk.

They simply stared at him as he then gave a curt but elegant bow and turned to you: “My sweet, beautiful, smart and wonderful darling, would you like to leave now? I fear we’ll only get dumber if we stay here.” He offered you his hand which you gratefully took and smiled at his compliments.

You both turned around to go back inside.

“You BITCH”, you heard as you walked away – followed by a loud smack and different screams of pain, shock and anger. More shouts and smacking sounds followed; you could hear the dog barking again. Seemingly a fight had broken out.

You didn’t look back, you just threw Astarion a glance who smiled at you wickedly. A mirroring smile slowly crept onto your face as you kept looking at your partner in crime.

“That was so much better than just elbowing them”, you said to Astarion as your wicked grin grew broader.

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of fake smiles and hidden lies #tav #bg3

143 notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 1 year ago

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 38

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Chapter art by the INCREDIBLE @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Intercrural Sex, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello (TMNT), Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Warnings Below Cut.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse and kidnapping

Please keep yourself safe.

“Okay.” Across from you, your ex-roommate, Coral, pressed her fingertips to the table.

From where you were sitting at the same wired structure, you glanced around the café without moving your head. She’d recommended getting coffee before officially hitting the farmer’s market and meeting up with the others. It hadn’t struck you as odd since your schedules hadn’t substantially sunk up since Donnie’s heat, but now, seeing her as ready as someone about to make a business deal, you were on edge. “Okay…?”

Your drinks hadn’t even arrived yet.

“First off, safe space. I already took your phone.”

“You-?” Hands flying down to check you found your left wrist empty. “Coral…”

“Your weird bracelet also wigged me out.”

“Coral!” You seethed, taking your turn at putting your hands to the table, albeit with more force.

“I know.” She flicked her gaze up to meet yours.

Seeing only severe honesty there, you wilted with a partial scowl. “You stole my shit. What do you mean safe space?”

“I want you to know he’s not listening in.”

“Who?”

She gave a heady sigh and took a languid look around. “Do you ever feel followed?”

That was a mounting concern, but not one you’d shared with her. “No.”

She passed you a glance in turning her head before sweeping a hand back through her unruly locks.

There was something telegraphed about the move that had you narrowing your eyes. “What was that?”

“All clear.” She responded easily.

Spine straightening, you spun around in your seat and combed the same area. At first glance, nothing was out of place, but as you started to examine the New Yorkers, you caught a glimpse of Kaleb from behind a newspaper. “They’re all here, aren’t they?”

“Yes, we set up a perimeter.”

“What the fuck!?” You snapped back to her so fast your body hadn’t quite caught up with the rotation. “What is this?!”

“It’s not-” Coal stopped and beamed a smile.

You soured knowing it was a café worker before they even spoke.

“Here’s your drinks! Let me know if you need anything else.” With a parting peppy voice, two ceramic mugs were set down on the table.

Coral scooped hers up and took a sip.

From where you’d unconsciously hunched over yours, you examined her through your lashes. All she needed was a hat, sunglasses, and a Parisian backdrop and she’d be something out of a travel ad. “Cor.”

She finished off a long gulp and set her mug back down on a saucer. “It’s not an intervention.”

“Explaining what it’s not doesn’t say anything about what it is!”

“I just want you to know you’re safe.”

“I don’t feel like it! You took my phone and-” You stopped short and bit down on a grimace. You’d never even named your tech gauntlet and now certainly wasn’t the time to start. “-my bracelet. Do you know what a huge invasion of privacy that-?”

“I need you to know he’s not listening in.”

“Who!?” The only person who could was S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and he had your full trust. More often than not these days, he rarely tapped in unless you gave him a signal or your vitals indicated something.

“I passed it off after we ordered. Nels has it and he’s the furthest away.”

“You’re…!” You felt crazed. Wild eyes looked through the reflections of the café window. “I know you’ve messed with my shit a lot over the years and I should have put my foot down, Coral, but this is-!”

“I know.”

Her harsh words cutting straight through to your core caused you to give an exhausted slow blink. Coming open you took a sip of your drink and spoke against its rim. “The others wouldn’t be playing along without good reason.”

“There you are.”

“I didn’t go anywhere.” You grumbled, finishing a swig. Coming down, you clanked your mug. “So not an intervention. What then? You’re acting like I died.”

“You almost did.”

“This again, Coral, I already explained-!”

She slapped the metal of the table so hard your hand shot out to stabilize your mug.

She let hers slosh. “I’m going to come right out and ask; I just want you to take a moment and not react right away when I do, fair?”

You stared at her and threw a helpless hand up. You let it gesture to go ahead before it fell back to the metal with a plop that stung.

“Has Donatello hurt you?”

She hadn’t needed the warning.

Even without her input, you would have slowed.

Giving a sigh, you propped an elbow to the table and fiddled with your mug’s handle.

This wasn’t the first time she had brought this up. During the multiple times you’d come home bruised and battered, she’d hinted heavily that she thought it was his fault. In the many ways you’d twisted it, they’d all been believable enough and she’d let the whole thing lie. The change that must have recently cinched it for her was your withdrawal. Seemingly out of nowhere, in her eyes, you’d stopped hanging out with the group as a whole. Cursing the blue idiot who’d pushed you to do so you shook your head. “No.”

Coral didn’t move a muscle, but it was clear she didn’t believe you.

“Cor-”

“Then who?” Her voice was hindered.

“I told you-”

“You told me something, but that wasn’t the truth, was it?”

Looking away would admit guilt, so you closed your lips around circling the same excuse.

“I just…” She broke first, gaze shooting away with a flash of picked at wounds. “It’s not me. I have to believe that; that it’s not that you don’t feel comfortable in telling me, so what then? There’s something preventing you from being honest. This all started when he came around so it has to be him. That’s why I got the phone away and that weird communicator; in case he’s listening.”

How’d she know you could communicate with it? “He’s not.”

“Then why?” Her gaze returned with glistening eyes, but she buried them to drain her mug. Slamming it down, she regained her cool and steadied her shaking fingertips in straightening ceramic. “Sorry, guilt’s not a way to go about it. I’m supposed to make you feel safe; sorry about that.”

It wasn’t new.

You’d never once missed her worry.

She was obvious about everything she did.

What struck you in that moment was the separation.

You’d forgotten that since moving out, she didn’t have the same access to you.

What she’d gotten instead were bits and pieces filtered through digital means. You’d gone from living together to barely seeing each other where life interfered. The worries she had already had must have rotted her away in that time. She didn’t have the same reassurances of seeing your highs. It’s not like you took to a messenger to scream when you were living it up. Being immersed in elation was often done in the moment. It was when you were down and lonely that you reached out. It perfectly coincided with your hike of messages. You’d stopped going out the same time you tripled your online presence. It indicated something she had no way of knowing.

All her messages asking how you were took on a new light.

“I won’t… do anything.” She gave a chuff that looked like it hurt. “That’s saying something, but I swear I won’t. If we need to get you away, we have a whole smuggling plan that’s admittedly half baked. He may be a mutant, but there’s way more of us.”

You softened sadly.

She took the look with a nervous flick over your features and stumbled on. “You might feel trapped, but I want you to know that’s not the case. We’re all here for you. I didn’t bully everyone… mostly. Okay, I bullied them a little bit, but you know they wouldn’t let my ass have free reign.”

You nodded.

“What I’m trying to say is… and I’m not trying to read into things, but that look kinda makes it seem like there’s no other way, but there is. I need you to hear that there always is.” She turned up the bearing of her soul to stare into your eyes.

You had to tell her.

At this point, why hadn’t you?

She was crazy, but she also loved you.

You loved her.

You probably would have needed to assemble your friends the same way to break it to her though.

That was just her nature.

“Coral.”

She nodded, clearly wanting to spew more of her research, but kept a tight lip.

“I haven’t been honest with you and I want to say it was for good reason, but right now… seeing you like this… I’m not so sure…”

Her fingers squeezed her mug handle.

You reached out and laid your hand out on the table, palm upright.

Her appendage dropped right into it.

You squeezed, once for reassurance. “It’s my turn. I’m going to say something and you’re going to wait before you respond.” The second constriction was to drive your point home.

She scoffed, but there was a warbled quality to it before she gave a nod.

“Two of the times were Donnie, but not in the way you would think.” You had to look away as nerves reared their heads.

Even if you had decided to explain, that didn’t mean you weren’t mortified by the prospect.

You were as sex positive as the next person, but society's shame ran deep.

She pinched your index finger to alert you that she’d heard.

The fact that she was holding back spoke volumes.

Returning your gaze, your bottom lip curled.

“The… first time, early on? When I was having trouble walking…?”

She was watching you with open intention, taking everything in earnest.

You wanted to bury yourself in a hole. “Ugh.” Lowering your head you reached your free hand up to rub your temples. “Just say it.” You brought your head up and mustered courage. “There’s a learning curve to human-mutant sex that neither of us accounted for.”

Though her eyes were still trained on you the same way, they seemed to lose their luster.

“I wasn’t hurt, but I did… need to heal…” Your teeth flashed as your anxiety fizzled out.

“You literally couldn’t walk.”

That had two connotations. “Yeah…”

“I know I pestered you about his dick, but… come on!”

You let her hand go and shook it out as if she burned you. “There’s more, can you not… get into that so soon!?”

“Is it more sex stuff?”

“Coral!”

“Eugh! It is!!” She laughed, threading her digits into knots of metal. “I mean, get it, but I was worried over that!?”

Your palms were pressing into your lids before you realized it. “There’s more. Can you-!?”

“You’re right, you’re right. Your humiliation fuels me. Keep going.”

“The second injuries… are harder to explain so let’s wait, but I will say they are not from Don at all, okay?”

She nodded.

“The most recent…” With your lips still parted a weird noise came out like a creaking door. You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth to silence it before trying again. “That was the worst one, right? I disappeared. Car crash… my dead… relative…?”

“I could smell that bullshit a mile away considering you didn’t immediately know which.”

“I thought you were being a little too cool about that…” You gave an awkward laugh.

As if to scorn you for even trying to inject comedy into the situation, Coral folded her arms.

“To be fair, this was totally new for Donnie too. None of us knew this was going to happen.”

She arched her brow. “Quick question.”

You were almost thankful for the small reprieve. “Yeah?”

“Us makes it sound like there’s someone else.”

You shrank a little in your seat. “There… uh… is…”

Her brow only rose higher and seemed to cause her head to tilt with the weight of it.

“Another shelf, just temporarily… When I start to explain it, it’ll come together-” The reality of the content begged to differ, but you had to force that sense away. “So Donnie… well… he went into heat.”

“Like a dog.” She spoke without missing a beat.

“Not… not like a dog…?” You squeaked out, hating that you’d used a double negative.

There wasn’t a trace of anything you could glean from Coral’s features.

“It lasted roughly 8 total days and you can kinda… guess… what… happened…”

“No.”

You rose to look at her, sheepish, until you saw her expression.

“What I know is I couldn’t fucking get ahold of you. Threats that you were dead and you’re sitting here, telling me you were just getting fucked?”

You bobbed with a reflexive tightening in your thigh. “Y-yeah… I didn’t….”

“Didn’t what?!”

“If we move to the second time-”

“I don’t think we’re done with this one!”

“Coral…”

“No, don’t say my fucking name. What the fuck are you even saying right now?! Do you know how worried I was?!”

You could only quiet.

“You couldn’t message?! I was stranded!! My bank locked me out and then I couldn’t get a hold of anyone! You know the only person I could!? Your stupid fucking boyfriend! Why couldn’t you!?”

“That wasn’t really…”

“That wasn’t…!” She stopped short, stooping over the table. “Who’s the third person?”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N… sort of… interfered.”

“Who the fuck is Sheldon?!”

“Donnie’s… son…?”

“His…” She blinked wide and looked around as if there might be cameras even though she’d set this whole thing up. “He has a son now! Wow!”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. isn’t… exactly what you… might be picturing…”

“What the fuck does that mean?! What does any of this mean, Y/N!?”

People around were starting to stare.

You didn’t care.

She certainly didn’t.

She never did.

“Coral, Donnie is…”

“I knew he was fucking weird, but it seemed like he genuinely loved you, but right now I’m second guessing relying on that! Who the fuck can live off love!? That’s literally a thing! You can’t!!!”

“Donatello is a villain.”

Coral came to a statuesque halt with both hands raised at different heights like a scale.

You gave your mug a cursory push knowing full well you’d never get to enjoy the rest of your drink.

Coming down for her was similar to breaking free of Medusa’s magic. Cracks of hardened rock flaked off as her arms wobbled down. Catching fingers on the table to prevent a complete fall, she hung her head just enough so she could still watch you.

There you saw the flurry of math flying around her head before the equation came out, solved for x. “He’s the Lilac Lunatic.”

You gave a faint nod.

Stupid monikers.

There was no end to them.

“Ha…” She managed a single laugh before falling back into her seat so hard it came off two of its legs. “He’s a… He’s a…” She wasn’t stammering.

Your head started to bob in time.

“What isn’t he!? Fuck, Y/N! Do you know-?” Distress filtered through a broken sieve and soaked her. “You know exactly how bad it is.”

You continued to nod, now rocking.

“You’re still together.”

You were almost seasick.

“You said… ‘is’ as in he still is?”

Capsize was imminent.

Something changed.

You felt it in the air and it was enough to stop you from shaking.

Across from you, Coral seemed pained. She gave a bitter sigh before offering her hand on the table the same way you had. She couldn’t bring herself to watch, but you deposited your appendage the same way she did.

She continued the mimic with two squeezes.

One reassuring, one viscous.

You told her everything.

The tale was condensed and instead filled in the spaces that had been seen or misconstrued for her. Coral interrupted several times with bitter remarks, but was able to shove herself back into line without much complaint from you. You didn’t try to convince her; she was always going to make her own conclusions. You simply told the truth. No matter what the outcome was here, you were at least sure of one thing: you weren’t leaving Donnie.

It didn’t make you worry any less as she started to grow more silent as the tale went on. You hoped it was simply shellshock, but with Coral anything was possible. Catching up with the present and having just shared your worries about when Leo might show up again, your ex-roommate gave a faraway nod. She then scrubbed a hand down her face and looked out across the street. It was where Kaleb was, but she hadn’t thrown any obvious cues that she'd alerted him of anything. She instead seemed to be processing and swept to you after such a long time that you’d almost forgotten you were waiting. “You weren’t abused at least.”

You had to laugh. The air had been so thick; the absurdity caused you to giggle as if inhaling gas. “Nope.”

“What the fuck!” She drew out the plosive and tossed her head back to look at the sky. “You’ve been dealing with all that, alone?”

“Kin…da…? It wasn’t always lonely. There were times though.”

“Yeesh!” She hollered and then came down. “I’m… gonna have to think about all this.”

You gave a sharp nod.

“You love him though, like a lot?”

“Absolutely.”

“How much?”

“The ‘spend the rest of my life with’ kind.”

Coral blew out a breath and came back with a lopsided grin. “He treats you good?”

“Oh yeah, he’s terrified of losing me.”

“ Keep it that way.” She tapped her mug twice. “Ugh, I need ice cream. You’re buying now that I know you aren’t hurt.”

“Hey!”

“What?!” She stood and loomed over you. “Want to talk back!? After all the lies!?”

You shrank down and shot your gaze away. “No…”

“That’s what I thought.”

“About the others…”

“We’ll tell ‘em one day, not soon.”

“You… sure?” You took a step out following where she’d freed herself from the table. “Wouldn’t that prolong the lie? I was ready for this to be a whole day reveal.”

“I personally can’t handle that much honesty, so let’s stick with just us. They’ll survive.” She did a half moon sweep. “If we aren’t 100% sure about each of them, Donnie might end up with like 12 life sentences if what the tabloids said he’s done are true.” Head barely towards you, she peeked out the corner of her eye to see.

You gave a zippy nod that you hoped conveyed you weren’t alright with his transgressions.

“Geez, that dick must be something.”

“That’s not why!” You huffed. “I regret telling you about the sex more than lying!!”

She barked with laughter.

Clicking your tongue, you headed towards Kaleb with her trailing behind.

“I-I-” She choked, wiping her eyes. “I wanna meet your kid though.”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna make him pay.” She cracked her knuckles.

Reaching your chill friend, you steeled yourself for reintroduction. “Good luck with that. Knowing him, he’ll want to meet you, no fear.”

“Plankton didn’t mess with him, did he?” Coral oozed menace even though she’d just threatened the party she was now defending.

“How are you guys talking about Spongebob?” Kaleb huffed, folding his paper under his arm like an old man.

“Because I’m safe and sound.” You chirped, coming to a stop with a rock of your body.

“Yes! Hug time!” Kaleb swooped in and picked you off of your feet before you could say anything.

Balanced against his belly, he spun you around before setting you down.

“I told you!” He released and pointed an accusatory finger at Coral. “My Colonel would never!!”

She backhanded his digit away. “Better safe than sorry.” She shot you a smarmy look.

“I’ll buy you ice cream!” You croaked.

“It went like that, huh?” Kaleb bobbed knowingly.

“Like what!?” Nels’ nervous voice picked up.

Others were filtering in, like your phone-obsessed friend, Eugene, who was aptly scrolling as he joined the foray.

Coral stalked around Eugene like a predator and leaped at Nelson who screamed in outright terror.

It broke the tension of the group and gave everyone the cue that things were good. It saved multiple conversations dragging the same point and everyone headed towards the farmer’s market. Having been at least an hour over from your appointed time, the stalls were gaining various lines. Splintering off near immediately as people didn’t want to lose their spots, you joked at how the supposed meet-up was going well. You were scoffed at in a show of love that filled your chest with a warmth you imagined would last for days.

Stuck with Coral and her choosy nature, she kept dismissing stalls on a search for ice cream. Mourning your lost drink, you were peckish and losing patience with whatever she was looking for. She kept saying she’d know it when she saw it and you didn’t know that meant until she threw an arm out like a safety bar and it smacked you in the chest. “Hey!”

“This one! I want a Bomb Pop!” She pointed with glee.

“We could get that at any convenience store, why the hell would you want that from… here…?” Slowing, you took in the odd stall. Covered by a bright red tent, little aisles were set up to make it look like a bodega, except it was outside. “Why…?”

“It’s funny.” Coral chuckled. “You get the popsicle and whatever else you want and I’ll get you a drink from there.”

Following her thrown thumb, you saw a fancy drink place touting local ingredients straight across from the convenience store stall. “Okay, whatever…” You shook your head and the two of you parted.

Winding around cereal and Chef Boyardee, you tried to figure out who this particular stall was catering to. The nearest bodega was certainly only a couple blocks away at most so setting up something like this for whatever price the spot cost seemed ludicrous. Winding around one alley, you spied the shopkeep who could not care less about your existence. You ignored him all the same as you followed a line to where an ice cream cart was sitting in the back part of the stall. Further confused by its existence as you were sure you had seen it near Central Park, you rolled your eyes as you cracked it open.

Pleasantly cool air rushed out and fought against the summer heat. Sticky, but not miserable, you had once planned to fend this exact weather off by arriving at an early hour. Now you were in for discomfort and could only hope Coral got you something iced. Knowing she might very well not for kicks, you debated getting her the wrong iced treat. Also aware that you wouldn’t hear the end of it, you grabbed her popsicle along with a couple other options for your friends. Coming up from the ice box with chilled fingers, you heard several products fall and then a shout that made you fumble your pile.

“What did I tell you!?”

“S-sorry!”

Turning curiously, you watched as a red and green figure rose, towering above the aisles.

“And don’t you go tell your friends I was mutant-phobic! Word travels fast! Just like how I’ve heard how that tail of yours has been wreaking havoc all day!”

“Yessir. Sorry, sir.” Stepping out even though he was already clearly visible, you saw a bundle of spikes.

Going limp, all your ice cream hit the floor.

“No! What is going on? You pick those up!!” You could hear a slam as the shopkeeper smacked his counter.

“Raph.” You whispered to the air.

Said turtle had his tail bunched up in his arms. Errant spikes from it caught his hoodie where it seemed his daggered arms had completely shredded the sleeves. Crouched down in baggy basketball shorts with compression leggings underneath, he looked more ready for the gym than trying to gather all too small cans of cat food. “Uh… Hey, Y/N…”

“Wha…?” Your arms wouldn’t obey.

None of your body would.

You had never been this close to him.

He was unreasonably large.

He had to dwarf Donnie by at least a foot.

It wasn’t fair.

“Pick those up or I’ll report you!!!” The shopkeep roared.

Animated by nothing, you dropped to a squat and started to grab the ice cream. Raph appeared, done with his task and attempted to grab the furthest treat. It caused you to halt with curled fingers in fear of touching him. He didn’t seem perturbed and instead offered, “Sorry for scaring ya.”

“What are you doing here?” You hoisted your armful up and away from him.

“Ya know!” He quacked a little too loud. “Looking for ar-tisanal goods! I’m so into that and it’s totally not just Mikey’s thing!”

You stared at him flatly and turned to march straight toward the register.

You could hear Raph’s heavy steps chase you.

Shooting you both dirty looks, the man rang you up while muttering loudly about people messing up his shop. Only thinking how dumb that was since he had set up amongst the elements, you saw him package up all he had before he turned an annoyed look beside you. “Buddy, I don’t have all day!”

“Yeah, got it.” Raph responded and, from this proximity, you could hear the wane in his apologetic attitude.

The big guy had a limit.

Passing over the ice cream he’d gathered, the shopkeeper then turned a screen toward you so you could see the total. You went to get your wallet when you saw green extend beside you. Looking out of the corner of your eye, sweat cropped as you measured that Raph’s fist was larger than the whole of your head.

With a snatch, the shopkeeper stole a bill from green fingers.

“For startling you.” Raph said simply, watching the man with more patience leaking out from him by the second.

“No receipt.” The shopkeeper snapped before pinching the edges of a sack. You held a hand out to take it, but he dropped it early so it would plop on the counter.

Slighted by all means, you grabbed it and stomped out of the stall.

Heavy steps continued to follow you.

“What’s the plan here?!” You spun around and watched as a turtle nearly twice your size jolted like you’d scared him. “You gonna join up with my friends?! Hang out!?”

“No.” He got out with closed eyes before looking down at you with a battered expression. “That wasn’t the plan.”

You needed to keep your eyes on him, but at the same time you desperately had to look for Coral.

She had to see you.

It’s not like you weren’t standing next to a Statue of Liberty look alike.

Trying to strain out your periphery, you didn’t see her messy locks at the drink stand.

“Why can’t you just leave us alone!?”

Raph looked struck by your words and then softened apologetically for the second time.

“What did you do with my friend!?”

“Y/N, listen…” Raph’s hands came up.

“No!!” You took a step back, readying to swing your ice cream as the only weapon you had. “I’m tired of this! I’m tired of living in fear! You’re fucking stalking me and I didn’t do a damn thing!! Leave me alone!!!!”

Raph’s eye darted. “Y/N, you need to be quiet… I was hoping we could chat…”

“Fuck you!” You swung your bag and Raph took a step back to dodge it. “I’m not going anywhere with you!!!”

“You need to be quiet. People are taking notice.” Raph’s head was in motion.

“Uh duh! I want them to notice! I’m calling stranger danger!” Chancing it, you spun around and saw nothing but a blur of faces. Their whispers reached you, but not a single one was familiar.

There were six of you.

Where had your friends gone?

“I’m not saying this for me.” Raph spoke, stern, and took a step forward.

You screamed and swung your bag again, but it disappeared into a disc of glowing blue light.

Your stomach dropped.

“Told you.” Leo huffed to your right.

Color fading with your blood pressure, you turned to nothing. Carried by intuition, your gaze rose to find the blue turtle sitting on the point of the stall cover as if it were any old bench. Contrasting his brother, his crisp blue jeans popped against the red and a simple white tee was covered in a brown bomber jacket. Tipping his head down to see you over his aviators, his blue ball cap shaded him from the sun.

“I had it. You just can’t wait one second, can you?” Raph turned his scorn toward his brother.

“Was it going to be before or after the police were called?” Leo folded his hands on top of the sword hilt held in front of him.

“Before! Clearly!” Raph’s arms mirrored the movie without a weapon.

“Whatever, April got the jammer going anyway.” Leo rolled his eyes to stand. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah.” Your voice was too damn small. “Go.”

Leo lit up and then leaped into the air. Losing him to the harsh sunlight, you winced until there was a loud slap of him landing on the concrete between you and his brother. You stumbled backward as he came up with his swords dangling by his sides. “I think you misunderstand.”

Staring at the near manic expression on Leo’s face, you turned to Raph with one of incomprehension. “You can’t mean…! Not with me? You can’t seriously think I’ll go with you?!”

Leo twisted a sword and thrust his hand through a newly formed portal. Before you could register what was happening, he snatched up your bag and brought it to him.

“This is what I was trying to tell ya.” Raph caught Leo’s shoulder and yanked him with crinkling plastic. “You have a choice!”

“In what?” You squawked.

“Were you gonna eat all this yourself?” Leo peaked in the bag and let his brother shove him further out of the way.

“We can talk, you and me, or we do it Leo’s way.” Raph explained.

“Oh sweet, Rocket Pop! Dibs!”

“That’s not-!” You hissed.

“Yours!” Raph scolded, snatching the bag away and pinching Leo’s arm from where he was trying to rummage through it.

“Sheesh!” Leo rubbed the spot and sauntered away like it was his idea.

“Here.” Raph held out the bag.

“Why?” You didn’t move.

“It’s… yours…?” Raph wondered with a creased brow.

“No, why do I have to talk to either of you? Why is it a decision? I don’t owe you anything.”

Raph’s canine appeared as he sucked in sharply. Digging into his lower lip, he opened and closed his mouth twice before continuing. “We’re concerned.”

“You are or he is?” You spat with a flick of your gaze to Leo.

The blue turtle was perusing cereals and only bobbed his shoulders at the mention of his name.

“We…” Raph winced as if knowing what he was saying was wrong. “…decided as a group that based on the nature of your relationship…” He glanced at Leo and then back. “…which we’d find out… organically, that we’d have a few outcomes…”

“Do you hear yourself?”

“Oh, yeah!” Raph brightened. “Mind Raph is way too loud to ignore.”

You could only stare back and feel the way your lips were parted in disgruntled confusion.

“He’s no’rong.” Leo mumbled through a mouthful of cereal.

“Hey!!!” The shopkeeper shouted.

You sent a plea to the man which fell on deaf ears.

“Yeah, buddy, relax!” Leo swallowed harshly. “I was gonna pay! Ever heard of a hero’s discount? This city, I swear!” Stomping away, Leo entered the stall.

Raph rushed to close the space.

Your hands flew to your person where you drowned in a new sense of dread.

Coral still had your phone and tech gauntlet.

You weren’t sure it would have mattered based on the whole jammer thing Leo had mentioned.

Leo also lied.

Often and always.

Hands sliding down your hips in defeat, you were confronted by the girth and height of Raph’s form. “Ah!”

“No, no!” Raph held out the ice cream. “I can explain. I want to explain. I know how scary this all is. Please.”

You stared at the handles only imagining how Raph could enclose his fist around the expanse of your arm and meet the elbow.

“You do not want to do this Leo’s way.” Raph dropped his voice and shook the bag in time.

It was a move that struck you as a means to further cover his comment from sharp tympanum.

“What is his way?” You whispered back, knowing you didn’t have the same ability.

“He wants to-”

“Whatcha all talking about?” Leo appeared and you both jumped. “Tough crowd.”

“Why are you so damn determined to ruin the credibility of our team!?” Raph shouted suddenly. “We’ve been a cohesive unit for years and you’re throwing it away on obsession!”

The sincerity of Raph’s statement struck you, but you had no time to mull its significance as Leo grew dark enough to summon rain clouds. The weight of his blackened aura became so thick you thought you might suffocate on it. He then turned the brunt of that storm on his much taller brother, who seemed to dwarf under the weight of it. “Obsession?” Leo took a step forward where he was already too close. “Obsession. Me? You make it sound like I’m the only one who’s been here for the last two plus decades. For the death and the mayhem and the life threatening injuries and the fear of collapse and separation and rot! How we all rotted away!! How he poisoned each of us physically and mentally and how almost none of us fucking survived!!!!”

Leo jabbed a finger into Raph’s plastron and the red turtle wilted till he was nearly on his knees.

“That’s what I thought.” Leo kept his hand in place, but whipped his head around to you. “And now, he’s making a new move and everyone around me is acting like I’m the insane one when I know for a fact that this is a game. If we want to be players on the board. We need to grab the pieces.”

“T-there are people…!” Your voice shook and you listened.

Those whispers were still there.

People were still watching.

“You're just going to… what? Take me? In this crowd?”

“No.” Leo tipped his head and retracted his finger. He then shoved the box of cereal he’d bought into Raph’s chest for the red turtle to catch as he let go.

“There’s still a choice!” Raph snapped.

Leo took a commanding step towards you.

You tried to flee.

Your feet were cemented.

Looking down at them found that not to be true.

Nothing was keeping you.

By the time your gaze came back up, the blue turtle was upon you. “Did you want to talk to Raph?”

“You’d need to leave.” You tried to sound forceful, but there was something unhinged looming in him.

“Do you-” Bending at the waist, Leo’s head came beside yours. “-choose Raph?”

“Yes.” You wanted to kick him again, but something told you he wouldn’t fall for the same stunt twice.

“Yo’ve got ten minutes.” Leo straightened and strolled away.

Ten minutes to stall until your friends finally took notice.

Raph stared after Leo with a furrowed brow and then glowered down at the cereal he now also had to hold. “Y/N.”

“Just stop.” You held up a hand that said the same. “Why is he in charge? I don’t know, but you seem… way more reasonable.”

Raph juggled his items to free up a hand which he used to scratch the back of his head. “He wasn’t… always. Dad decided when we were young.”

Dad?

“All I can say is he’s making us look way worse than we are. I’m not saying we’re great, but we usually do earn the hero moniker. This…” Raph brought the arm back around and used it to gesture a spiral into the air. “…is some kinda trauma.”

“I get that.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Would you want to sit down…?”

“I want to move and stand in the very center of the market with as many people around as possible.”

Raph’s teeth flashed in a way that said this was the best he could do.

“We stay right here.”

He nodded.

“What did you do to my friends?”

“They were… lured away by free prizes.” Raph sighed.

“How…?” You shook your head. “You know what? I don’t want to know! Let’s wait out the clock and then I’m going to go.”

Again, his teeth made an appearance in the same way.

The snaggletooth might have been endearing under any other circumstance.

“What?” You snipped.

“We just need to figure out what’s going on.”

“Nothing!” You threw your arms out at where Leo had left. “You said it yourself! He’s obsessed! I told him there’s nothing! What did he tell you!?”

“That you and… Donatello were… dating.”

“Exactly! So, now you know!” You brought your hand in and then flicked a wrist at him. “Again!”

“That’s just kinda…”

“Unlikely! Yeah.” Venom dripped from your words. “I’ve heard that from just about every single person who knows Donnie, but you know what?”

Raph startled a little, but there was genuine curiosity in his gaze.

“They’re all wrong. He’s not that person anymore. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I don’t think he has since before me.”

Raph’s mouth opened with protest.

“I get it!” There was so much gusto in your shout that your feet planted. “He was bad, but you know what he does now!? He’s sweet! He remembers all my favorite foods, even the ones I’m pretty sure I never told him about! He’s caring! He bends over backwards to dote on me! He tries so damn hard! He messes up! He’s not perfect, but he tries! He’s a good partner and I want to leave here and go back home to him!”

Raph’s shoulders loosened.

“And I’m tired! I’m tired of having to justify our fucking relationship to you! Do you know what I just did!? I just told my ex-roommate everything! She’s a hundred times more unstable than you and somehow she took the news better! I just don’t get it!!!”

Plastic crinkling, Raph looked away.

“Is that good enough or do you need me to draw you up a fucking written version?”

“I want to let this go.” Raph spoke.

Though you’d paused on what was a clear rhetorical question, you weren’t prepared for him to answer.

“Trust me.” He shot you a heavy glance that said that and more. “More than anything, I want to put him behind us.”

His phrasing had you leaning back.

“It can be hard to understand. Unlike Leo, I don’t think you were fed a line, but there’s no way he told the story the same way.” In a shift, Raph looked at the snacks in his hand. “Sorry, gonna put this on the ground for a sec.”

You nodded, unsure of what was happening or why’d you stopped.

He set the snacks down with great care and then reached behind his head. There, he undid his mask and pulled it off. Though you had clearly seen the scarring pouring out from under it, there was something different about seeing his whole face.

Marred and twisted, his skin was warped by burns that had aged many years. They ate away at his cheekbone with green flesh singed with brownish rot. His right eye was puffed up around a milky pupil which spoke to the blindness there. “Do you mind if I tell you how I got this?”

“He… dumped acid on you…” You sounded like you were on the other side of the market.

Raph bobbed with attention. “Did he tell you why?”

“You…” Your gaze plummeted. “You tried to paralyze him.”

Raph let out a single loud chuff. “The scars on his legs?”

You nodded, assaulted by an odd shame.

“That happened a totally different time, Y/N. I made those scars trying to get him off Leo. I wasn’t trying to do anything other than stop him from killing my brother.”

You brought your gaze up to match his.

“Some kids were selling in Bushwick which was odd. I tracked ‘em back to their supplier and found a ring. The usual shootout started up, but you’ve seen my sai.”

You couldn’t respond.

“I was making my move when suddenly they all just… dropped.” Raph looked down, his good eye narrowing. “Like puppets without strings. I checked the closest guy and he was just… dead. Then came the burning”

You dug your nails into your arm.

“It’s pain like…” Raph shook his head and tied his mask back in place. “He used to have this laugh. Broken, loud… Cartoons don’t do it justice.”

“How…?”

Raph picked up the bag and cereal. “Hm?”

“How… old…” You forced yourself to look not knowing when you’d turned away. “…were the kids?”

“Fifteen. He had failsafes implanted in them. The kids, the dealers, the cooks, he killed them all to protect his assets or himself? Hard to say. I never really understood.”

The same age they were when they met.

When they started fighting.

“What happened… after?”

Raph walked over to you. “He left. It wasn’t about me or them. My best guess is my timing was terrible and he happened to be there picking up his money. I never saw him…” His head tipped. “Saw half as much after that, mostly a blur of gauze and skin grafts.”

Did you apologize?

“Hey.”

You looked up at him.

“I’m not telling ya ta feel bad. I know it sounds like it, but the story is kinda like that. I’m trying to give you perspective.” Raph knelt down onto one knee in front of you. “That was one time. Now multiply that by 20 years.”

You nodded, slowly.

“Leo’s scared. He’s more scared of Donatello then Krang Prime which if you’ve seen the guy is… something else.”

“Otherworldly.” You hated that you’d even said it.

“Yeah…” Raph held no resentment. “He’s stressed too. Me and Mike aren’t reacting how he wants. I’m never going to forgive Donatello, but I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the fighting and torment. If we can stay out of each other’s ways, I’m gonna take that in a heartbeat, but I don’t think Leo thinks he can stop worrying until Donatello is…”

“Gone.” The word sounded like a ghost.

Raph gave a nod, not wanting to give the poltergeist any more voice. “He blames himself for all of it. He’s like that; self sacrificing. His worst character trait is he doesn’t think he’s worth a thing without his family. That we define and give him worth. I don’t think he’s lived his own life because of it.”

“He…” You cleared your throat. “He’d hate that you were telling me this.”

Raph almost smiled and pointed to his bad eye. “20/320 and I can see him glaring at me right now.”

You gave a single humorless exhale.

“So… yeah.” Raph stood and held the bag out to you.

You took it. “What happens now?”

“You go back to your friends and I talk to Leo about what I know.”

“But I didn’t…” You glanced over the clearly melting ice cream and up at him.

Raph smiled with a lopsided grin. “Oh you did, yelled at me good.”

“There’s no way that was convincing.”

Raph shrugged his shoulders, but kept his smile. “I’m a good judge of character.”

“How does that convince Leo though?”

“What do you mean?”

“He already knows the deal. He’s not worried about me; he’s worried about Donnie.”

Raph opened his mouth to say something else, but Leo’s voice cut through the crowd. “Time’s up!”

You turned to him with heavy lids, bored of his shenanigans.

“Hey.” Raph greeted his brother, ignoring the dark aura Leo took with him. “Let’s get one of those juices you like and I’ll catch you up.” He shot you a quick wink. “I got intel you’ll want to hear.”

“I heard.” Leo was curt.

Raph’s hackles went up along with your own. “Leo…” He warned.

“We didn’t want to cause a scene.” Leo took a long way around you to end up near his brother. “No more screaming. No one’s watching. You did a great job throwing off the heat, big guy.”

Raph’s eye widened before he snapped his gaze toward you.

Struck by the fear there, it took you a moment too long to realize he wasn’t actually looking at you.

He was looking behind you.

“Sleep.” Mikey’s unmistakable voice whispered like it was coming from all angles. A thousand touches from Donnie helped you identify what were mutant turtle fingers brushing at the back of your neck. Anesthesia then ran through a drip without a needle into your veins. Drunken, everything began to warp. You could hear Leo counting backwards from ten as Raph yelled beside him. You fell with a blur of blue and a burn from the sun before night swallowed you whole.

I'd be toiling away in misery if it weren't for my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

71 notes · View notes

onceuponastory · 1 year ago

Note

Him or him to steal you away for a summer getaway?

Can I not say both? Hahahaha. But. I'll say Mickey. He may be a bit of a mess, but he's fun. And thank you for the inspo, love! @holacia3 <3

Take Your Mind Off

Plot: When an argument between your friends looks like it'll spoil your holiday fun, Mickey is a welcome relief. Pairing: Mickey Henry x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and being drunk. If I miss any triggers, please let me know!

Perching on the beach bar stool, Y/N takes a sip of the fruity cocktail in front of her. As soon as the alcohol hits her senses, she sighs happily. After the eventful morning she's had, this is a welcome relief.

Things didn't start out so badly. Quite the opposite, actually. She and two of her friends are on holiday together, taking some time off from their busy working lives to relax on the beach and get away from it all for a while. And for the most part, they've had a great time together. Despite being drunk for most of it.

Unfortunately, it seems the heat and late nights have got to both of her friends, resulting in a huge argument between them both this morning. Honestly, Y/N doesn't even know what started it, probably some stupid, inconsequential thing. But now, neither of them are speaking to each another, and it's ruining the rest of the day. Y/N attempted to keep the peace without choosing a side, but the snide comments and hostile glares had become too much. There's only so much you can take before you want to rip your hair out.

And Y/N crossed that line a long time ago.

So, she told them both to stop being so childish, and that she was going to enjoy herself alone until they've calmed down... whenever the hell that is.

And now, here she is. Sitting alone, nursing a cocktail at a beach bar. It may be lonely, but at least she's not being pulled into any more arguments, and she doesn't feel like she's walking on eggshells anymore. Hopefully, she can start enjoying herself again now.

"Mind if I sit?" a voice asks, pulling her out of her daydream. When she turns, she meets the blue eyes of the DJ she and her friends saw last night. Completely unaware of the storm that was coming the next morning, the trio had a lot of fun and danced the night away. She wasn't expecting the same DJ to be standing beside her now. The first time she saw him, she thought he was insanely cute. Although she was pretty drunk by that point.

He looks even cuter now, up close, when she's more sober.

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Giving him a polite smile, she scoots over, letting him sit on the stool beside her. As he does, she notices the other seats surrounding the bar are empty. For a moment, her brow furrows. "There's so many places for him to sit... and yet, he chooses beside me?"

But she's not complaining.

"Something wrong?" He asks.

"Not at all." The man doesn't look like he believes her words, but thankfully doesn't press her.

"A beer for me, thanks, and another drink for the lady." He slides some money over to the bartender, before leaning back in his seat with a grin.

"Thanks for that." She roots around in her bag for some cash to pay him back, but he shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it. Can't let a pretty lady like you pay for her drink now, can I?" The heat on Y/N's cheeks deepens, and she stammers a thank you. Somehow, his presence is already starting to make her feel better.

"My friends and I saw your set last night." She tells him. "You were amazing." She holds herself back, trying not to sound too much like a crazy fangirl and scare him away before she gets to know him better. But the man simply chuckles.

"Thank you very much." He grins. "I'm glad to be of service." He holds out a hand. "I'm Mickey."

"Y/N." She smiles, shaking his hand.

He looks around, raising a brow. "So, if you don't mind me asking... where are your friends? Did they leave you on your own?"

"No. They wouldn't stop arguing, and I was getting fed up with it. So I gave them some space to cool down." Mickey nods. "We planned a day trip today, but obviously that's not happening." She sighs.

"Hey! Don't say that!" he insists. "Your day doesn't have to be ruined just because they want to spoil the fun. How about...." He grins, trailing off. "You come spend the day with me?"

His question stuns her into surprised silence for a moment, before she breaks into laughter. There's no way he can be serious. Surely he has better things to do than cheer her up.

But... would spending time with the cute DJ really be so bad? It's a lot better than the alternative, anyway.

"What?! I'm not joking! I live here, so I know the best places to go. And you deserve some fun today."

"Really? You wanna spend time with me? Surely there's more fun people than me you can hang out with."

"Doubt it. Besides, I enjoy spending time with you Y/N." She's not fully convinced, especially since they only met a few minutes ago, but her stomach still flutters all the same. And like she said, it's a lot better than hanging out here alone, waiting for her friends to make up.

"Okay." She nods. "Let's do it."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow my library blog @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#holacia3 #mickey henry #mickey henry x reader #mickey henry x female reader #fanfiction #fanfic #monday sebastian stan

55 notes · View notes

broomsick · 1 year ago

Text

Using music in pagan practice! · ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Why hello there! Any music enthusiasts in the room?

I’ll be completely honest with you all, I’m not such a huge music fan. Of course, I still listen to a lot of music. I don’t think any human being could survive without it! And yet, it’s not like it’s much of a passion for me, as compared to many others I know. However! It’s become such a huge part of my practice that I couldn’t help but write a little post on the topic. Music has such a hold on emotions and mood that it’s extremely useful and feels very personal once it becomes part of your spirituality. Now, how can one do such a thing? I’d wager some of you are already experienced in this, and do already consciously use music in their practice. But for those who don’t, allow me to share my tips!

I’ve talked about this before, but chanting is a very fun habit to develop as a pagan. It can be trance-inducing, and help you get into a meditative state that’s perfect for praying, connecting to your deities, engaging in divination and the like. A chant doesn’t have to be particularly “musical”, granted. Almost half the time, mine aren’t anywhere near sung. Nevertheless, I find it especially efficient and calming when the chant follows a beat, and even a melody. In my experience, it feels a lot easier to empty one’s head and to get into a spiritual mood when I’m singing something repetitive. It’s possible to model the chant off a familiar song, lullaby and the like, or even just to choose a certain beat for the word/phrase to be chanted.

Music in and of itself, even if there's no chant or the like present, can come in handy in the context of prayers, rituals, and other pagan practices. When I am especially tired, or I just somehow feel unable to chant due to mental exhaustion, I simply put some calming music on and this is a major help when I mean to connect with my spirituality. It's a way to create an atmosphere, and to disconnect myself from daily worries and the like, at least for the time of the prayer/offering. For a long time, I simply could not fall into a meditative state without background, "nordic"-type music. I've had a handful of people ask me for tips on how to meditate, or connect with their spirituality, and this has always been my number one tip. This goes without saying, but music has quite the powerful effect on the brain and by extension, the mood. It's not to be underestimated! And yes, even modern music that may not seem especially spiritual. Whatever makes you feel at peace is already perfect for such spiritual use.

It’s also possible for you to sing, or play songs as a kind of offering. There's a special kind of connection that develops with a deity when you decide to devote yourself to learning a song for them. You painstakingly learn the lyrics and practice it again and again, all in their honor, which makes for a beautiful devotional (no matter who the deity is!). Plus, this is just my personal experience, but singing, or playing a song, is a great outlet for emotion. In this sense, within the context of a festival, ritual or even just a prayer, it establishes quite the strong emotional connection with the deity. It can help you to let out your love/admiration for them, and to share it a way that's deeply personal. Something I've noticed is that when I have not connected with this or that deity in a while, singing a song for them as an offering always seems to make me feel as close to them as before instantly! To all of you who have a knack for writing, it's even possible to compose your own song, no matter how short and no matter the genre! I know people who have written beautiful, entrancing songs for their deities, by simply pouring their emotions and heart into the lyrics and melody. And it doesn't matter if you don't feel like the song is perfect, because the effort and love you'll have put into it makes for a great offering in and of itself. Artists are always too critical of their own works, aren't they? And in this case, I'll be willing to bet any deity would adore receiving such a personal gift!

Now, something that I've seen become super popular in the past few years is making devotional playlists. Do I even need to explain this one? It's a super fun activity to engage in. What I find is that pondering songs, their vibe and their lyrics, and finding parallels between them and your deities can help you a great deal with actually picturing the deity. This is something that's inherent to neo-paganism and its individualistic nature: our understanding of different deities can vary vastly from one individual to the next. Which is why it's not only fun, but also quite fulfilling to develop one's idea of a deity. By defining a certain type of song that seems to fit them, or a pattern in the lyrics that you associate with them, you ask yourself questions. How are they as a deity? What is something they stand for? What does their presence feel like? What sort of music would they like and why? The answers to these will naturally arise as you explore the emotions evoked by certain songs, and those evoked by your chosen divine presence. Deepening your understanding of a deity is a great way to feel connected to them, though it might seem simple. But aren't simple things often the most effective?

#norse paganism #heathenry #paganism #polytheism #deities #deity work #music #spirituality #norse gods #personal #tips

21 notes · View notes

cyberrat · 2 years ago

Text

69th Batch Of Fics: 1st Fill

Hanzo + Pokémon – CYOA interlude – Part 1/5 – Hanzo gives his Pokémon a day in a spa/amusement park.

My fwiend asked for a few comfort fics in the CYOA-verse. The CYOA (Choose Your Own Adventure) is over on my patreon channel but I think it should be easy enough to understand without the context.

---

Hanzo thoughtfully looks at the large gate signaling the entrance for the Pokémon spa. The area behind it looks like pure wilderness but he figures there must be some kind of facility further in.

Kikuri, his Salandit, is squirming in his arms, obviously eager to get out and in there. Honestly, he is surprised she hasn’t started scratching him yet.

He turns around, looking at the rest of his team. His Gyarados, Zeus, is repeatedly flaring the small fins at his head and growling low which draws a few nervous gazes from the other Pokémon trainers.

King snorts and digs his hoofs at the ground, not happy that he isn’t the center of attention, and Goomy just looks… nervous. In general. With his life situation and everything, probably – Hanzo hasn’t quite figured him and his anxieties out yet.

Maddox, his freshly evolved Midnight Form Lycanroc, sits dangerously close to one of the spa’s trashcans and he figures they should get a move on if he doesn’t want him starting to rummage around in it for some snacks. His appetite had been through the roof since his evolution.

“Well,” he says finally, clearing his throat. “If you guys would like a spa day, I think we can arrange that. As long as you can behave.”

He has to lean out of the way of one of Kikuri’s claws swiping at him after all.

After his team enthusiastically makes it known that they indeed want to have a day in the spa, he makes his way over to the entrance.

.oOo.

“Wonderful, that would be all. If you would give each of your Pokémon these colored tags and keep this communication device at your person at all times, so our staff may contact you if there were any need?”

Hanzo nods, quietly murmuring a thanks as he awkwardly juggles all the items that the receptionist has shoved over the counter at him. The tags are mostly ribbons which he can stretch out to fit around the neck of each of his Pokémon so they would be easily recognizable as being a part of his team.

“That would be all. The park is yours for twenty-four hours. We will meet here again tomorrow at this time. Stay safe and… don’t do anything violent.” His eyes flick toward his Salandit as he says that, though she is already wobbling toward Goomy to assume her seat on his head and make him carry her around for the rest of the day probably.

Hanzo sighs softly, giving each of his Pokémon a gentle pat and watching them slither, run, and fly away.

Standing there all on his own, he feels rather… lonely. It’s been a long while since he last wasn’t accompanied by at least one Pokémon. He can’t even see King’s glittering gray fire any more, though he supposes he just needs to follow the throngs of people wanting to have a look at a Shiny to find him.

After a moment of gathering his bearings, Hanzo clips the communication device to his belt to make sure he wouldn’t miss it if he was being contacted, and starts to slowly make his way along the initial path of the spa. There are tons of trainers walking with him or coming from the direction they’re heading to, all alone after they had been pretty much abandoned by their Pokémon.

It’s a bit of a weird vibe as none of them seem to know what to do with themselves, empty Pokéballs sitting in their pockets, but Hanzo finds that it is certainly a bit comforting to know that he isn’t the only one. And his team is going to have fun today. He could have some, too.

Soon enough the huge main building comes into view. He is sure they have a wonderful cafeteria. It’s been a while since he last ate a nicely prepared, warm meal.

.oOo.

He is at the end of his coffee after his meal, thinking about finding himself a spot in the sun to doze a little, when the communication device he’s put on the table of the cafeteria softly beeps.

Hanzo eyes the device, seeing a light blinking steadily, and another beep. Figuring someone is trying to contact him, he sighs deeply and pushes the button.

“Hello?”

“Mister Shimada?”

His insides curl a little in on themselves. Oh, what did they do this time…?

“Yes?”

“Do not be alarmed, but if you would come to training facility F and take a look at your Salandit? We think it might be having a cold or somesuch.”

He frowns a little but does immediately get up. “Of course. I’ll be there in a moment.”

.oOo.

The staff is, in fact, correct. The warmth radiating off of Kikuri is different than usual; it feels more sickly and uneven as he picks her up from the corner she has sat herself into. Instead of swiping at him or immediately complaining that her play time has been cut short, she uses her sharp little claws to pull herself up his chest and around the back of his neck where she comes to lie with a little, exhausted huff like a dry, warm hand towel.

Hanzo sighs softly and touches her bald little head before leaving her be. He’s been around enough sick Pokémon during his time in Hanamura to know when to be worried and when not. He is suitably sure that a day or two of simply resting will get her back into shape sooner or later.

He had not anticipated having a companion today but he is grateful for it. Loneliness doesn’t sit well with him. It makes him get too much into his head; especially after he’s spent the past few months pretty much joined by the hip with his Ponyta-come-Rapidash and King’s larger than life personality has become such a constant in his personal space that suddenly not having him close anymore, be it in person or in a Pokéball at his hip has been rather… weird.

“So… where did you leave your trusted steed?” he mutters half to himself, not anticipating Kikuri to give him an answer one way or the other – and she doesn’t. She just tucks her snout against his neck and breathes uncomfortably hot fever breath down the front of his shirt.

He carefully puts his backpack back on and looks about the training facility. It’s a kind of jungle gym with a cacophony of Pokémon calls as all kinds of species play with one another. Still, it does not take long for him to spot Goomy; the Pokémon is an Alpha after all and his size means that he sticks out of every scenery like a sore thumb.

Hanzo is about to go to him to make sure he’s fine but pauses just after a couple of steps as he sees that he is, in fact, playing with other Pokémon. Baby Pokémon, to be exact.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, given how timid Goomy is, but it still has him pull his brows up in intrigue as he watches Togepi and Bonsly and Happiny dancing around him, crawling up his soft, slimy body and bouncing on top of his head or sliding down his back.

In fact, he’s never seen him look so happy and content. It’s enough to have Hanzo decide not to approach him after all. He should just enjoy his day off and not feel like his trainer is keeping tabs on him.

It’s also good to see that the training back with Reinhardt seems to have born fruit and sent him on his way toward being a more confident Pokémon.

He just needs time in that regard.

#cyberratting writes stuff #overwatchxpokemon

8 notes · View notes

meaningofaeons · 1 year ago

Note

hello, its oi anon!

somehow i feel like there's going to be a twist with the emperor that's 'limited in public appearances'... i bet all of my stellar jades that he'll be some puppet ruler for the destiny faith faction.

how often do you read non-oi manhwas? shadowless night and blinded by the setting sun (i know i recommended this before but i love it it's so good the ml and fl makes me feel things and the actual character development and worldbuilding makes me go hrrgrgggggh) have to be some of my favourites outside of traditional reincarnation oi. fl of shadowless night reminds me of stelle in the 'deadly trash panda' way, her head may be empty but her hands sure are filled with knives (and food). ml also got that jing yuan vibes

FU XUAN BRONYA AND SEELE YOU WROTE THEM SO PERFECTLY THEIR ROLES ARE PERFECT IT MATCHES SO WELL!! i am so so excited for this series if you can't tell already sdafghm,lkjbsdflnjk

luocha honestly gives off saint/cardinal/priest vibes. that clothing and his coffin, fits right in tbh. caelus ig could be at the xianzhou empire, who also lost his memories and is looking for his sister, lumine/aether style? he could be friends with sushang and helps out the cloud-knights quite a bit whilst also just wandering around doing odd jobs here and there. kinda unsure he's hard to place\

anyways!! take care!! eat and rest and sleep well, majesty is coming along great!!

hi again oi anon !! (≗ᆽ≗)ﾉ

hehe I am super excited to write more on the emperor since he's the only original character really in the series thus far, and most of the others will probably just be side characters like servants or minor nobles... （๑´ﻌ｀๑）

I will read blinded by the setting sun asap!! I have seen it around before and it's so pretty I love it I don't read a whole lot of non-oi/reincarnation manhwa mainly bc they're either usually hard to find or translated in such a way that is difficult to understand hdjsjhfnjd ;w; but I have read some! I rather enjoy the more typical medieval-style world ones with magic and stuff, and the lead finding their way on their own merit, like the remarried empress. navier obv isn't reincarnated or isekai'd, she's just a badass!!

THANK YOU BY THE WAY!!! I had some trouble finding places for the xianzhou charas but I thought that role did fu xuan justice! I was going to add yukong as well but unfortunately I don't know much abt her yet :< as for bronseele, yas teehee I am very excited to write them together. they won't be a huge part of the story but I wanted them to have roles that fit! （＾・ﻌ・＾✿）

your ideas are awesome for luocha!! I love the saint/cardinal idea, I counter with this: he's from the Destiny religion in Stellaron, but he went to the Xianzhou Empire to "spread the word" (but really, he's there for his own means, perhaps something to do w/ that coffin in canon if more info about him comes out soon). this is because in the quests he's in, luocha mentions that "luocha" is just the name he goes by on the xianzhou, not his actual name! I did want to throw in sushang as well tho so I'll see what happens!! (=♡ ᆺ ♡=)

thank you for the care & support!!! I'm glad you're enjoying how it's coming along thus far!!!! (=◕ᆽ◕ฺ=)

EDITED I FORGOT ABT CAELUS !!! I was gonna mention him LOL I don't have a planned role for him but I like your idea oi anon!!! will keep it in mind :3

#katze contemplates!#oi anon #anon #majesty #majesty: hsr #m.asks #I WILL ALSO TRY SHADOWLESS NIGHT #it looks rlly good

2 notes · View notes

battlecruiseranthracite · 3 months ago

Note

𓆣 4, 15, 26, 29 for the ask game 𓆣

hello hi hello!

4: Hard to say, really. I would say the two series that I've liked the most have been The Last Dragon series and Artemis Fowl, but they're likely colored by rose tinted goggles more than a bit. Worm is definitely a top contender, even if I quite like that one largely for the many many fanfictions it's inspired rather than the novel itself.

If I truly had to say only one novel, gun to my head I'd say Armageddon?? by Stuart Slade would have to be my favorite. It's techincally not a true published work, but that's largely due to the fact that it was leaked all over the web my the first publisher he sent it to for ideological reasons. Basically the premise is that god declares that heaven is closed and true believers should lay down and die, and while some humans do that a lot more of them say 'Well that sounds like a raw deal' and flip the bird to god, and in response the armies of hell march upon the world. While I love the premise, apparently some person who read the manuscript thought it was blasphemous and leaked it all over the web, making it essentially unpublishable. It really sucked, because Stuart Slade had already written the second book as well, but without funds couldn't afford to write the third one. The second book is also up online, and the series actually developed enough of a cult following that he started writing the third book and posting chapters online, but unfortunately shortly afterwards he died of Covid and thus the series will never be finished and all the amazing plot threads will never really be resolved. Really good two books however, look up The Salvation War if you wanna read it, and if you have trouble finding it lmk and I can help!

15: This one was hard so I have 2 sentences.

Less alliteration version: A being in flux, trying to get herself off the ground and into the world, finding out how to connect with others and waiting for the other shoe to drop, impossibly tired yet pushing onwards in hope that one day she’ll find a home where she can create and rest and feel safe.

More alliteration version: Confusing confounding Creature full of contradictions, who currently is in a cruddy and confusing place and feels more and more cracks every day, but despite that continues to claw her way through the calamities of life.

26: Kinda cruddy, I’ve had a pressure or infection or something at the back of my nose for a while and I tried washing my nose with a netty pot only to realize after that you cant just use tap water, you have to actually use a saline solution. Also tried washing it with some raw apple cider vinegar which may have been a bit of a mistake. Got some nasal spray, so I do hope that kicks in sooner rather than later.

Buuuut I have finally been able to sit down to play some EDF 6, so hey, that’s p nice. Its been a longass day and its nice to have a bit of time to relax, even if I will need to go to sleep kinda soon.

29: Ok this one is REALLY hard because essentially every single song I listen to has no lyrics lmao. I think my fav song lyrics at the moment however are from I Just Want To Exist by Empty blue, the opening thing really hits hard and is a huge mood that I feel right now.

I didn't ask to be here, to be a part of any of this I was just sort of born onto this planet and in this life And every day since, I've had to validate my existence Prove myself at school, prove myself at work, prove myself to my community, prove myself to God I have to pay to stay alive, I have to work so that I'm able to pay I have to grind away to get all of these resources that aren't even mine because I have to get them to someone else just to validate me (I deserve to exist, deserve to exist)

#Sorry for the delay in answering #15 kept me for a lot longer than maybe i should have thought about it

1 note · View note

romantic-flora · 1 year ago

Text

TIME FOR ANOTHER LONG ONE

Buckle up ladies, gaydies, & theydies, cause Flora's a LITTLE MAD today.

You may have seen my post about River recently. Well I still haven't heard from her but this isn't a tea update I just have A LOT OF FEELINGS about this situation.

So sit down, shut up, and open your ears to one autistic motherfucker raging about social queues.

Like I said before my date with River was probably the best first date I've ever been on. No actually is FOR SURE was. The conversation and flirting had so much chemistry - we couldn't wait two hours to kiss, we had to get it out of the way at the table. She was just the right amount of forward to be exciting but not overwhelming. The dom/sub dynamic flipped back and forth too many times to count and both of us loved being on both sides. And we're not even talking abut the sex yet (it was fantastic too). We share so many interests and she's a more-than-casual enjoyer of my *special interests* so it didn't feel awkward devoting a huge part of our conversation to them.

She read me so thoroughly and clearly - even with Luna, sometimes I feel like they can't quite grapple the way that I think (head full v head empty), but River consistently helped me finish thoughts that I was having trouble articulating and explicitly enjoyed it. There's a deep satisfaction to be found in being able to reach the same conclusion as someone without having to say all the words - for those of us who have brains that move way faster than our bodies. On top of which, River has been in a relationship with a transgirl before, so I didn't have to worry about answering questions or doing simple education.

She's brilliant. I say that in no attempt to hyperbolize. As someone who begrudgingly accepts the title of genius autism (I got both Smart Girl & Obsessed With Dumb Shit Girl versions in roughly equal measure hahaHAHA FUCK) I find it very difficult to connect with people to don't match me intellectually. This isn't a flex, it's alienating. I just can't be engaged in a conversation where I'm never being surprised or interested by the other person's thought process. Believe me, if I could go back to the start and reroll my stats, I would fucking bottom out intelligence. River, as I've probably made clear already, can more than keep up. I love playing word games over text, in person, as flirting etc - so to sit down with someone who has a degree in linguistics??? Come on. The whole experience was just so deeply refreshing and entertaining.

And I THOUGHT I was talking to someone super emotionally mature and interested in getting ahead of possible hurdles. We had already been discussing our second date before going on our first. She brought up dating goals, and I said I was looking for some emotional and intellectual fulfillment. She said she'd been out of a long term relationship for 6 months and wasn't looking for anything serious right now... but... that we had clicked way more than she was expecting to with anyone and she could see it going somewhere. I said we should keep things chill for now then & have another conversation about it after a few more dates. Seems good right? Being upfront about expectations and comfortable discussing feelings???

WELL I GUESS NOT. After a few more drinks we went to my place and had sex. She stuck around for a few hours of chat & cuddling after. I paid for her uber home - she had a job interview the next morning. She sent me a few texts on the way, and a cute goodnight message when she got home.

I simply cannot put into words how excited I was to have someone I didn't have to compromise on any of my standards for. AND she's super into me in return??? Too good to be true.

It's been 4 days and I haven't heard from her. I'm not blocked. She read my first couple messages (I've sent...3? & a post). She's pretty offline in general, she has ADHD, and I knew she had plans this week.

Luna says to give an ADHDer a week and to not assume anything until then. I'm struggling with that because for the three days prior to our date, our communication was very consistent. Easily hundreds of messages per day. And I knoooowwwww that's because I was top of mind.

Bottom line I have no idea what's going on, & everyone is telling me to be patient. It's a slow sinking feeling though, as with every hour a bit more hope slips away. I'm really hoping we'll bump into each other at an event tomorrow & I can get a better picture.

______________________________________________________________

Time to talk about my feelings. Gross, I know.

I cannot help but feel frustrated. Lack of resolution to situations drives my anxiety I N S A N E. I cannot help but assume the worst. The timing is very conspicuous. I'm used to Luna going dark for a few days at a time when they get busy, but RIGHT AFTER our first date doesn't feel neutral, it feels intentional.

The way I see it, there are two things that could be happening, if it's not forgetfulness.

River lied to me. About all of this special/different shit, so that she could fuck me. I would have said no to a hookup - the only reason I wanted to have sex was because I thought we were going to keep seeing each other. I might be a slut, but I'm a slut with desires. We had originally said we weren't going to hookup on our first date... Some would say if you're having that conversation ahead of time, you're definitely going to. We were both just so excited and into it. I don't think River is the kind of person to do this, but ALSO she's a stranger I met on the internet a week ago, she could be lying about anything. This option makes me quite upset, but it's easier to process because the rational outcome is anger. Anger doesn't make me anxious, I can handle it. So I'm having a couple days for feral girl rage while I wait out Luna's recommended waiting period.

It was too much too soon & she got scared. That I can absolutely understand - I would want to talk and settle that in a mature way that keeps us talking. If she just got too excited and the sex was more than she wanted in retrospect I totally get it. But WHY aren't you talking to me? Is this how allistic people deal with discomfort? Just walk away from it? From a really really good thing? That's BAFFLING I simply cannot comprehend the thought process. I've ghosted people before, but only people that I've had like one mediocre conversation with, I could NEVER do it to someone I actually liked. And if I had FEELINGS for that person... even if you're not comfortable pursuing them right now, why would you throw away that option??? I am filled with such tumult at the thought that she could HAVE feelings and be CHOOSING to avoid me. That's so terribly anxiety inducing. I just want things between us to be stable and comfortable, we can take a step back, we don't have to have sex until you're ready, we don't even have to see each other that much, just TALK TO ME.

River. We could be so fucking good together. Now or whenever you're ready. I'll wait if you want me to. Just don't leave me in the dark. I think you were being honest when you told me you had an amazing time. I don't want to believe you're a liar. I'm going to pretend to be mad so that I'm not anxious, but whether it's good for me or not, the second you text me, I'm going to be so relieved and understanding of whatever you say.

Unless it's something I have failed to consider. This is a tangent, but I'm so sick of having to be the Bigger Person. I get upset about things. I deserve apologies. As much as anyone else. Fucking annoying how being mature makes you kind of powerless in relationship dynamics. Maybe I need to be less desperate and set some better boundaries. In fact I know that's true. But I also have a larger underlying issue, one that River articulated to me more clearly than I had thought about it. I like to talk to people close to me about my achievements, small and large, I like praise and I like to show off a little bit - my ego comes from the fact that I don't get the praise I need from the people I want. And I'm not sure how to solve that problem without filling my inner circle with people who appreciate me more. If you have any tips on how to not desire praise, let me know I guess? And none of this "you only need your own praise" stuff - I already think I'm the greatest <3

Well no poetic ending to this one. I'll update after the event tomorrow on whether River shows her (beautiful) face.

Smitten & hopeful,

Flora

0 notes

pepprs · 5 years ago

Text

still haven’t cried yet but today broke my whole entire heart

#said goodbye 2 five of my davorite ppl in thr WORLD for the nezt 4 months like. how do we cope. how do we fucking COPE #ueah theres facetime and social media and all that but. nothing beats an in person conversation u know? nothing beats being in ur company :(#and it was my last time in the office and on campjs too and like. hm. i am reduced to a 3rd of myself i think. but also it doesnt feel real #ive been very numb today and i know its a protective measure so i wont be in pain bht like. what inconvenient timing... i wuld like to feel #something. and i mean i did feel something which was Quite A Lot Of Sadness but i still dont think its actually hit me that like... thats it #and i really am not gonna see them again for so long. my stomach is in literal knots rn i....... 😔#how do we cope hw do we fucking cope...#also im just like. so tired. more tired than sad j think. that took so much out of me emotionally and yet my emotions havent... caught up #quite yet. but i already feel empty... like a huge part of my head and heart are missing. and i havent eben taken off yet but this is hard.#purrs #like these are my People! the people i Love! how can i Be without them u know? how can i. how can i leave like this when i love tbem so much #agh. its so hard. i hurt so much but i do but i dont but i do but i dont and im empty but full but empty but full. i hurt and i dont hurt.#also i know im coming back so this is kust a see you later but... it really is more permanent than that in a way. cuz its like goodbye to th #me i am and the you you are right now in this moment... and we arent gonna get to see wach other growing and when i get back we’ll all be #different even thi we’re still the same. and well its just a lot!

11 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

closer | gojo satoru x reader

a/n: aaah my first ask and it’s a request! thanks so much this is so kind and sweet of you 🥺 and here it is! I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it anyway!

summary: in which Gojo has the need to be closer to you after a long day of hard work

pairings: jealous! Gojo x reader

warnings: none, other than this isn’t proofread! (This is just a fluffy domestic short fic!)

masterlist !

The best part about being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer isn’t the power (although Gojo basks in that too) but rather the fact that he allows himself to completely tear his walls down and be putty in your hands once he comes home from work.

Gojo would never say it out loud that the best part of his days is waking up next to you, pressing kisses in your still sleepy face and you whining for five more minutes, then watching as you wobble like a penguin to the shower so you can start your day. Although he doesn’t really ask much from you, his heart still swells every time you make him a sandwich, kiss it and claim that it’s “made with love” before he proudly shows off his ‘breakfast’ of the day to his students.

Even in work, he still thinks of you. It’s quite impossible for this man to stop thinking of you; you and him never left that honeymoon phase even after two years of marriage and a much longer time of dating.

He could be exorcising a curse then get distracted afterwards after seeing an Italian restaurant that he just knows you’ll love. Next thing you know, Gojo flicks his wrist and exorcises the curse in a flash before hopping into that restaurant to look at the menu. Loving is knowing; Gojo takes the time to see if the restaurant would be respectful of your allergies every time before booking reservations.

It’s no secret that this man is completely enamoured with you, if his sappy good morning kisses accompanied with light, teasing touches down your legs is not an indication already. Gojo is confident and feels safe in your relationship and he’s never the type to get jealous because Gojo is Gojo – who else would be better than him for you?

Or at least that’s what he used to believe, until he comes home with a bag of pumpkin spice bread for you, arms wide open and a “Darling~” about to leave his lips when he sees your current predicament.

Nanami is leaning against one of the chairs in your cafe downstairs from your home, the usual stoic man’s lips and cheekbones slightly raised in laughter as you tell him something about your day. Gojo can’t exactly understand the worse falling from your lips because he’s too focused on the way you’re leaning forward, eyes absolutely crinkled into half-moons while you share a strawberry tart with him. Gojo sees the cups of tea have already been emptied, meaning Nanami has been here for a much longer time than he is welcomed.

Gojo clenches his jaw. He’s told you many times you should get a bell so you’d know when a customer comes in, but now he’s thankful you’re stubborn and refused to have one because he can hide in one of the propped up tables and chairs hidden in the darkness.

He can’t help the sigh he releases. He’s late – like he always is.

You’re a regular human who isn’t able to see curses. You’ve only ever known about their existence ever since you started dating Gojo, but other than that, you’re completely unaware of how these things work. It doesn’t bother Gojo. In fact, he quite likes that he can be just a regular man around you, and he basks in the comfort of not having to worry about your safety if ever you were also like him.

He met you when you were just still a barista who helped your boss bake from time to time. Gojo was only a student then who hopped from one cafe to another in search of the best delicacy, but he got more than what he bargained from when he met the fresh-faced and bubbly young woman standing behind the counter whose smile was sweeter than the most sugary dessert you’ve ever made.

As the two of you grew older, Gojo supported you in building your own cafe since you’re so passionate about it and it’s been your dream since childhood.

He still remembers how you’d spend hours in the kitchen trying out new ingredients, so much so that you forget to eat on most days. Gojo is left with the task of literally hauling your ass up upstairs and force you to shower with him. You lie that you’re not really tired, but the moment his skilled hands roll the tension out of your shoulders, a contented and grateful sigh paints those lips he loves to kiss.

One of the things Gojo loves doing with you is taste-testing. He’s not around the house most of the time when you work since he’s a busy man himself, but on the days he actively chooses to annoy Principal Yaga and go AWOL, he’d sit obediently on the counter and let you use him as your own taste experimenting dummy.

When night falls and you’re just about ready to head to bed; satisfied and proud of another day of hard work, Gojo comes home early to help you clean up the cafe and prop the furniture so you don’t overstrain your muscles.

Or at least, he wants to come home early to help you. It’s just that he often gets carried away on his missions and stays behind a lot longer than he’d like because the world of curses is extremely demanding. After seeing that you probably already lifted all these heavy chairs and cleaned up everything by yourself even when you’re tired, and you still have the ability to smile and laugh like that in Nanami’s presence when he should be the one on the receiving end, Gojo is unable to fight back the twisting feeling that pools in his stomach.

Forcing a huge grin on his face, Gojo loudly smacks the paper bag in the table between you and Nanami, his hands resting on the blond’s shoulder who only groans at his presence. “Yo!” He greets, winking when your eyes gleam brighter now that your husband is home.

There’s no trace or hint of anything that could indicate you’re upset with him because he didn’t come home early. Instead, you bow and excuse yourself while picking up your cups and the small plate where remnants of your signature tart had been, and Gojo watches with longing eyes as you disappear in the back room.

Now that you’re gone, Gojo drops in your seat, takes off his blindfold, and glares at Nanami. “Nanamin,” he drawls out. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here – getting chummy with my wife, no less.”

Gojo knows he’s being petty and childish. Of course he is. This is Nanamin we’re talking about; the man is as frigid and stone and he’s as interested in romantic relationships as much as he respects Gojo Satoru. Plus, it’s you, and you have eyes for Gojo and Gojo only, but it’s also Gojo Satoru who’s mixed in the formula, and he’s not the least bit ashamed that he’s being immature right now.

Of course he’s jealous. Of course he’s possessive.

You’re his sweet, little wife – of course he doesn’t like it.

As if reading his mind but couldn’t be bothered to deal with him, Nanami slides an envelope across the table. “Ijichi took a sick leave so he couldn’t give this to you. I was tasked to hand it over to you instead so I came around. It’s not my fault you come home late and your wife insisted I have a short meal before I came home,” Gojo opens his to retort something stupid when you emerge from the back, pretty face tired yet still patient as ever.

“Leaving already, Nanami?” You smile up at him, hand slipping through Gojo’s bigger and rough ones. He doesn’t know why the gesture leaves him stunned, especially when you step close enough that he feels your heat on this sudden cold night. He’s so entranced by everything about you he doesn’t even notice the blond bidding his farewell.

Gojo watches as you turn to face him, smaller hands reaching up to caress his face. Now that his blindfold is gone, his hair falls down to forehead, your dainty fingers brushing them away from his eyes so you could marvel in its beauty.

Like a little kid, he melts into a puddle when you do that exact eye-smile he’s seen you do with Nanami, only this time, it’s reserved, private, and intimate.

Gojo shuts his eyes in the process, nearly stumbling forward, which he doesn’t really let happen with anyone because he’s the Gojo Satoru; strongest jujutsu sorcerer. But you don’t mind, you never do, and if anything it only makes you laugh when he pretends to be deadweight by collapsing into the crook of your neck.

“What a big baby,” you tease with your hand rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion, all the tiredness and exhaustion from his day disappearing into thin air.

“Yes,” he concedes as he follows you up the stairs where you both change into your pyjamas and settle in for the night. “But I’m your big baby.”

The nickname makes you laugh, head thrown back as giggles erupted in your chest. You’ve already removed your makeup, hair down from your work hairnet and flowing in loose waves. Gojo stifles a gasp then, because you’re in his arms, in his bed, smelling like him, and you’re so soft, so free, so vulnerable and the way you lean into his shoulders while he rubs his cheek on the crown of your head makes him feel like he’s falling in love all over again.

He’ll never get tired of this – of you.

The mere thought of seeing you with someone else that isn’t him doesn’t sit well with Gojo. Now he understands why he’s so jealous and immature – it’s because he hasn’t wanted anyone or anything as much as he loves you.

He can’t imagine a life where he’ll wake up to his mornings without your limbs sprawled across his longer ones, or how he may never hear your sleep talks about birds and butterflies; which is utterly ridiculous, but because it’s you, he finds it adorable. Sometimes Gojo wonders how he ever even lived before meeting, but of course, those were days filled with nothing but him doing weird stupid shit.

Not that he’s stopped doing that, but now at least he’s doing those weird stupid with you.

And he only ever wants to share those with you, so he doesn’t and will never allow anyone else to take what’s rightfully his. You’re his wife, the love of his life, the sunshine in his mornings and the sunset of his beautiful dusk.

He doesn’t care if he’s petty – he’s got every right to be jealous because Gojo Satoru never shares what’s his.

When his mind races back to the way you smile for Nanami again, his hold on you grows tighter. You don’t complain when Gojo suddenly presses his lips into yours, a breathy moan blessing his ears once he finally moves on top of you. Gojo runs his hand under your – his – shirt, letting those talented hands of his roam upon the expanse of his skin like an artwork he’ll never get tired of looking at.

“Missed you,” he mumbles in between the lip-locking, leaning closer when your nails start to scratch his scalp as a way to soothe him from the night. Nothing about the kiss is hurried or fervent; rather, it’s calm and steady, slow and passionate, much like how everything he feels for you is similar to a calm, rainy day where he’ll stay in with a hot cup of chocolate.

You’re home – warmth and comfort – and you know you’re his just as he knows he’s yours, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing you like he wants you to never forget that.

You shiver when Gojo’s fingers tickle your ribcage, that spot always having been sensitive. Your husband swipes his tongue over your lips that still tastes like strawberries from your lipbalm, and he groans, falling forward when you allow him access into your sweet, sweet mouth. Meanwhile, you travel down from his hair into those broad, strong shoulders that always seemed like a fortress to you.

Gojo was so big and strong compared to you. There’s no denying he could easily break you if he wanted to, but he’s nothing but gentle – perhaps a little eager – when he holds you like this.

There’s no memory of how you end up on top of his lap that night with the covers barely strewn across your bodies, Gojo’s back pressing into the bed frame that’s witnessed endless nights of passion. His hands then run over your hips, squeezing it a little too hard until you rut against his hips.

“Hmm,” you moan into his mouth at the friction, while Gojo only smirks at your reaction. Even after years, you’re still so sweet, sensitive, and responsive – he just can’t get enough of it. “Satoru,” the way you say his name is so breathy, almost as if it’s a secret only the two of you should know, so he listens intently at your next words. “You’re a little needy tonight. Did something happen?”

“No,” he lies, smiling to himself once he sees your lips are red and bruised. He’s sure he looks the same, but your eyes are glossed over with love that he can’t resist you pulling you to him as if the space offends him. He trails his lips down to your neck to leave red patches of marks that claims you as his – not that the gold wedding band on your fingers wasn’t doing the job already.

Like the good girl you are, you tilt your head and allow him to do as he pleases. He sucks, licks, kisses and nips at the skin, all the while careful to not hurt you or push you over to the edge since both of you are too tired for the day to ever do anything.

Your head drops to the crook of his neck then, arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely as if you trusted him to catch you whenever you fall – and you know he will. He always will.

Later on, you grow sleepy at the way he starts to pepper kisses into your skin that addictingly smells like cinnamon and vanilla all at the same time. Gojo chuckles to himself at how peaceful you look in that moment, draped over him like a tiny puppy who lives in a world too big for themselves, but that��s not true.

You’re bigger than the universe itself, larger than the vast galaxies he held beneath those eyes, and Gojo finally stops being jealous.

There’s no need to be, after all, not when he’s the one you trust wholeheartedly to tuck you in bed while your soft breathing lulls him into slumber as well. Gojo flicks the lamp off with his finger, not wasting another second before he scoots closer, closer, closer until there’s no more recollection of where you begin and where he ends.

He stands corrected in his statement.

He’ll never get tired of this, of you, for you’re bigger than the universe itself and there’s still a lot of space between the two of you that he can’t wait to cross until your worlds crash and burn.

“Next time,” he promises before kissing your eyelids, “I’ll come home earlier.”

3K notes · View notes

barnesbabee · 3 years ago

Text

collab || J.Y

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ 2 - ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ

Summary: Two famous porn stars have a fun collab together.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x gn!reader

Words: Just enough

⚠ although there is no mention of gender, the reader wears makeup and lingerie, so if you are uncomfortable with that, don't read ⚠

As Yunho dried his hair with a small towel, he heard the familiar ding sound from his social media. He had just finished uploading the edited version of his live stream, so it wasn't unusual for him to be contacted by a bunch of people right after, however, he didn't expect to see you.

You weren't well known in the porn scenario, as you were fairly new and the competition was vast, but your 'Around The World' series had become a huge success and a major hit for its originality.

Yunho was quite a fan of the series, so when he saw your message, his fingers were crossed.

Y/N: Hello! My name is Y/N, I'm not sure if you know my work, but I am a porn star that is currently doing a series called 'Around The World' where I... well, fuck people all around the world. My next stop is South Korea and I have seen your work before and I think our style is very similar and I would love to do a collab with you! Feel free to check out my work on my page, I hope to hear from you soon! xoxo

The tall man squealed like a high schooler getting a text from his crush, he's always wanted a collab and now he was about to get one in one of the biggest series of the moment!

Yunhxxx: Hello Y/N! I am aware of your series and I am a fan! I would love to do the collab with you! I'll send you my number so we can talk about the details more comfortably :)

Part of your anxiousness died down at his response. Most porn stars were very polite and kind in front of the camera, and in business discussion, all for that quick buck, but you'd find, with your series, that a lot of them were just assholes with a huge ego. You had a good feeling about Yunho, but you didn't want to get your hopes up and then be disappointed.

The arrangements didn't take long, as you were both excited for the collab to happen, making it very easy to communicate. Yunho was kind enough to offer his own home for you to sleep in, arguing that 'whoever fucks me gets to sleep in my house for free'.

Yunho spent the weekend preparing everything for your arrival on Monday morning: he cleaned his whole house, stocked his fridge and cabinets with all sorts of food, and sanitized every toy of his. By the time he received your 'I'm on my way!' text, his house was the cleanest it had ever been.

The man showered, put on his best cologne, and applied some dark eyeshadow under his eyes. As he stood in front of the closet in his briefs only, he wondered what he should go for. A sophisticated look? A sexy look? An outlaw-looking look? He wanted something to get you immediately attracted to him. Yunho wanted to make you feel good, not to make you act as if you felt good.

Ultimately he chose a black button-up and black suit pants. He decorated his long fingers (that he had come to learn was something many people liked about him) and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

Yunho was aware of his innocent appearance. He had had his cheeks squeezed one too many times, so he caught on quickly. However, the man loved to play with his looks. He loved to make people wonder what kind of person he was, with a cute face, yet an intimidating look.

Before he knew it, his doorbell rang. Yunho took one last look in the mirror, just to make sure everything was in its place and walked towards the door. The first hello wasn't awkward at all, as you'd already had a few zoom calls to discuss what would happen in your collab, just to make sure there were no misunderstandings.

Once you stepped in with your suitcase, you couldn't help but notice how neat, modern, and well decorated his house was. The walls were white with big windows, and the furniture was a mix of grey, light blue, and white. Yunho lead you to the guest room where you'd be staying, and it was a lot nicer than you expected. The bed was high and large, the duvet was grey with a bunch of fluffy white and red pillows decorating it. In front of the bed was a modern black vanity with lightbulbs around the squared mirror, and against the wall in front of the door was a black, sliding door wardrobe, with a large, orange, and red abstract painting of a couple. His house looked simple yet classy, with just the right amount of colour and decoration. You took a look at him, his dark look contrasting the house.

"You already got prepared?"

Yunho looked a little puzzled for a second, but then understood. "Oh! Oh no, you've just arrived, you must be tired! This is just... how I dress?" He said, feeling a little embarrassed.

You took a good look at his outfit.

"You always dress like that? Wow..."

Yunho's cheeks became a little red at the comment, and he stumbled over his words as he thanked you. He was used to receiving compliments when he had his clothes off, but with clothes on? Not so much... Before closing the door, Yunho told you to feel at home, and that when you were ready you could start setting everything up in the room he used to shoot.

The man had never felt that nervous, so when he finally closed the door, he immediately headed to his living room, and found the whiskey bottle he kept for emergencies. He poured a generous glass and sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone as he waited for you.

You were pretty much used to the routine, and since you had a stopover in a neighboring country and spent the night there, the trip hadn't been too tiring. You sat on the very convenient vanity and re-did your makeup. You liked to match your look to your type of content, so you went for a dark look: dark purple lipstick, a heavy, black smokey eye, and loads of mascara. You made sure to apply a lot, so it would run down your face and give the viewers the fucked out look they loved to see.

The lingerie matched your makeup: black lace lingerie with some bling here and there, and a garter belt to accessorize. You grabbed your robe from your suitcase and exited the room.

"Yunho?" You called, peeking your head from behind the wall.

"Hm?"

His eyes widened when he looked up. You were completely different from the person he had met.

"I am ready if you are!"

He nodded and stood up, downing the rest of his 2nd whiskey cup in one go. Yunho took you upstairs and opened the door to his 'studio'.

In the center of the room was a carpet, and a big, empty space behind it.

"I usually move the bed or the couch over there, depending on what I want to do that day. I found that it was easier to move the furniture than the whole set up." He explained, pointing at the empty space.

Against the wall, opposite of you, there was a bed, much like the one on your bedroom, and a nice, black leather couch. Beside you there was a closet, where Yunho kept all his toys, accessories, and streaming outfits. Other than that it was just the usual setup: a desk with a computer, professional lights, and a camera.

Yunho walked over to the couch and moved it with ease to the empty space.

"So we've already decided?" You asked.

The man smirked as if simply entering the room turned him into a completely different person.

"I already have everything planned out for you dear, it would be rude to have my guests work."

You blushed slightly, and sat on the couch, waiting for the green light.

You watched as he opened the closet, displaying his wide collection. He picked a bunch of stuff that he set on top of a towel on the floor.

"Alright, that's about it."

You cocked your head to the side, in confusion.

"You're not getting dressed?"

Yunho reached for the choker he had brought and softly placed it around your neck, tying it just tight enough. He hooked his finger on the big metal ring on the front and tugged on it. You followed his silent command and knelt on the ground, in front of the couch.

"I'm already dressed, for the concept we're gonna try."

You were getting curious and excited. You stayed still as he started up the live stream. Yunho turned on the lights, set up the camera, and pressed 'Start Live Video'. The screen counted down from five, until the live started.

Yunho sat on the couch behind you, and placed his large hand on your head.

The man smirked as soon as the comments started raining.

There was a mixture of fuck yeah's and happy cheers as they recognized Yunho, and became excited for what was to come. The live was obviously happening on your account, although you would always split the tips with the person you worked with.

"Hello," Yunho started, and you let him take the lead "welcome to the 24th edition of Around The World, I am today's guest, and we have such a great show for you today, don't we?"

Yunho tugged on your hair, making you wince. You looked at the camera and nodded.

The 30 dollar donation ding sounded, announcing that someone had made a request.

'Make her sit on your thigh'

You let Yunho take the lead once more, hooking his finger on your choker's hoop and pulling you up, to sit on his thigh. You hummed as you rolled your hips, causing friction between your core and his thigh. Your hand ran along his torso, feeling the fabric of his shirt.

"He has too many clothes, don't you think?" You asked the camera, in a flirty tone.

There was a rain of comments agreeing with you, and you immediately got to work, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. His dick print was already very visible in his pants, and you could now understand why he wanted to wear that look.

You removed his shirt, slowly and teasingly, as the viewers praised Yunho's toned body.

The male hooked his finger on your underwear and snapped it against your skin. Your little whimper at the sudden pain made him smirk.

Yunho ran his hands along your body, making you shiver from the cold metal of his rings.

Tips and donations rained down with many requests, and so you went back on the floor and laid your head on Yunho's thigh, your face mere inches away from his hard-on. You perked your ass up and traced the shape of his cock with your finger.

"What do you think? Should we reward them?" Yunho asked, petting your head as he stared into the camera.

As expected, everyone gave you the green light to continue, so you slowly opened his fly, to find he had no underwear on. You freed him from his pants, gripping his length in your hand. You kept eye contact with the male, and although you were a professional, you were always nervous when you had to take dicks on the bigger side.

You spat on his tip, and played with his cock for a second, before slowly inserting it in your mouth. Yunho groaned and threw his head back, taking in the warmth of your mouth. His hand was tangled in your hear, gripping it and tugging on it from time to time.

"Shit, you're doing so good..."

Yunho was very vocal, to your (and the viewer's) pleasure.

The 50$ notification ding sounded, and a message played right after.

'bby I wanna see you jump on his cock'

Yunho smirked and gripped your hair, in a firm, yet not painful way. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, cleaning the remaining saliva.

"Hmm, you know what, so do I."

You stripped from your underwear, in a sensual way for the viewers (and Yunho) to enjoy.

Yunho slapped his thigh, and you climbed onto his lap, slowly but surely sinking down on his length. You gripped onto his shoulders for stability and groaned as every inch of his cock disappeared inside of you.

His hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks in a beautiful way for the camera to see. The male helped you, as you rode him, not only by holding your hips and guiding you, but also by snapping his hips up against yours. Filthy slapping sounds along with the mixture of your moans echoed in the room, and the donations were reaching their peak.

"F-fuck baby you're s-so good, you're doing so well."

You gripped his shoulders harder, as his praises drew you closer and closer to your edge.

"They're c-close! Should we l-let them cum?"

It was impressive how professional Yunho was. How he looked so immersed in you, so tired and fucked out, with his fringe sticking to his forehead and eyes burning into your soul, yet he didn't forget to interact with the viewers.

There were many people leaning towards yes, begging to hear the way you sounded as you came, and so he worked hard until you screamed his name and tightened around his cock. He let you rest and recompose for a second, but the way you clenched around him made it impossible for him to hold it in any longer.

"Shit, get on the ground."

You gladly complied, and got on your knees for him, immediately sticking out your tongue, as you could predict what would come after.

Yunho jerked himself off to your fucked out face, and soon a string of curses came out of his mouth, as he spilled all over your face. He smirked and wiped some of his cum off of your face with his thumb.

"Say ah, pretty baby."

You smiled and opened your mouth. He inserted his finger in your mouth and you happily licked it clean.

Yunho cupped your face with his hand, and smiled.

"You behaved so well, I might have to reward you again."

His head tilted to the side, pointing to the couch, and you followed. You sat down on the couch, and Yunho knelt in front of you. His arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you forward, so your hole would be of easy access to him.

The man teased you, as his tongue danced around your hole, not quite getting where you wanted him. You rolled your hips up, earning a slap to your inner thigh.

He looked up at you, with a hint of darkness in his eyes.

"Behave."

It didn't take long for you to get what you wanted, as he started tongue fucking you, with the help of his fingers. You gripped his hair, and your back arched as your high approached once more.

You came quickly, with his tongue still inside you, and he held your trembling legs and body, to keep you stable.

He didn't move for a second, giving you time to breathe and rest. After you had recomposed yourself, he helped you up, and the two of you shared a heated kiss, Yunho's hands never leaving your ass, that he definitely had a fixation with.

You finished the stream by thanking the viewers and donors and shut everything off. Once everything was done, you sighed and plopped onto the couch.

"Do you not want to shower?" Yunho questioned, as he saw the mess in your face and body.

You chuckled.

"Yes I do, very much, but I'm so fucked out..."

Yunho very kindly scooped you up.

"Well, I wouldn't want my guest to work too hard, I'll help you out."

#ateez #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #kpop #kpop smut #kinktober #ateez kinktober #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez gender neutral #ateez readder insert #ateez reactions #ateez reaction #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez yunho smut #yunho ateez smut

669 notes · View notes

ushidoux · 4 years ago

Text

November Baby - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: Wakatoshi offers you a little more than just chocolate and flowers on Valentine’s Day. (~2.7k words)

Warnings: breeding kink, pregnancy talk, cisfem!reader, nsfw

A/N: Breeding kink and big one-track minded boy just go hand in hand. This is for @prettysetterbaby’s Valentine’s Day collab!

---

Wakatoshi never told you directly that he wanted children, but he signaled so in every possible way.

It was initially subtle - of course, he’d always loved your hips, but his eyes and hands started to rest on them more often, and soon your belly became his favorite place to plant soft kisses, and his fingers started to favor the dip in your waist and the smoothness of your hips.

In the evenings when you washed up for the night, his eyes seemed to hone in on your facial features more than usual, and while he stood beside you at the bathroom sink to get ready of his own accord as you brushed your teeth and swiped toner on your face and neck, you could see him perform a sort of math in his head, adding and subtracting from the elements that comprised the two of you.

You took note of all these behaviors, but you declined to pick his brain because your Toshi was always direct, and you knew that if he was quiet now, it was only because he was still coming up with the proper words to express what he was feeling.

But he let you know all right, in the middle of a crowded department store in the heart of Warsaw that looked like it had been ransacked by Cupid’s battalion many times over.

“Is Poland just really into Valentines’ Day or is it this store?” You joked, as you followed your husband leisurely pushing a shopping cart you’d overloaded with essentially useless trinkets and decorative items. You’d moved into your new home just a couple of weeks ago, and still were engrossed with the task of filling the empty spaces between comfy furniture and elegant fixtures.

You were now trekking through the realm of cribs and diapers and couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the frankly quite excessive marketing. Red and pink hearts were everywhere, as were flowers, huge balloons, chubby angels and red crossbows, you name it.

“Oh my God, even the baby section is Valentine’s Day themed??? No wonder everyone I know is born in November!”

You were busy laughing at your own joke, but instead, he looked at you with the slightest bit of caution in his hazel eyes, leaning over the cart as it rolled to a stop and gripping the handles carefully.

“Let’s have a November baby, too,” he said, abruptly enough to stun you for a split second.

Your eyes grew slightly wide, your face growing hot at his clear and concise statement, and you quickly looked around to see if anyone else had picked up his distinct baritone. You knew in your heart of hearts he was completely serious, and flustered, you bumped him slightly on the hip.

“Why would you say it right now?” You hissed.

“Does it matter where I say it?” He asked, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. You pouted, fingers tightening on the handles of the shopping cart as well. His eyes were still on you, again, gauging your reaction, worried if he was too forward and if he had somehow made you upset with his suggestion.

“Only if you want to of course, my love,” he reassured again, his hand now covering yours. His smile was understanding, even if there was a hint of lingering hope.

The warmth was fading from your face, your heartbeat that had sped up due to embarrassment now settling with the stroke of his thumb over the back of your hand.

It didn’t take you long to think because the thought had already crossed your mind. Being heavy with his child, then eventually coming to this very store with a small little one that looked like the two of you…

It was a delightful thought, actually.

“Wine and dine me first,” you teased, kissing him quickly on the nose, “and then we can consider having a Valentine’s Day baby.”

He grinned, the slightest bit of mischief in his glance.

“I’ll have you pregnant by the end of the night.”

---

Dumping your pill pack into the trash was a surprisingly simple ordeal and you were very thankful it was mainly used for birth control over anything else. But out of an abundance of caution, you’d decided to shoot a message to your primary care doctor earlier that morning anyway and gotten the green light to start immediately, which was reassuring if not embarrassing. While you knew she didn’t take it this way, part of you felt like you’d essentially disrupted her life to say by the way, my husband’s gonna fuck me into oblivion until i pee positive on a stick, any objections?

Ushijima seemed to be taking this ordeal very seriously as he was prone to do, his diet even more regimented than usual despite being off-season and adding an extra ten minutes to his morning jog, a protein-heavy green smoothie in hand. While that was cute, what wasn’t cute was the fact that he hadn’t touched you in the past week.

When you rolled over to him in the middle of the night, slipping your hand down his boxers to try to get him to give you what he wanted, he responded with a kiss on the lips before gently removing your hand off of him and intertwining his fingers with that hand instead.

“If I’m going to breed you, it’s gonna be special,” he murmured almost directly into your ear, a tinge of slumber in his voice making his voice even more seductive.

Breed? The thought itself had your heart racing but not as much when he added,

“I’m saving up to fill you with the biggest load possible, sweetheart.”

With that, he patted you on the head before whispering for you to go to sleep and anchoring an arm around your midsection to snuggle with you, but the thought of what he would do to you had you wide, wide awake.

---

The fact that you were so focused on the main event made it easier for Ushijima to surprise you with the rest of the activities he had planned for Valentine’s Day.

It wasn’t the first since you’d been married, but he’d absolutely put even greater efforts into this one, starting with waking you up (after letting you sleep almost into noon) to an oversized box of chocolates and bouquet of roses and a handmade card with a haiku written in his neat script. If that weren’t enough, he’d brought you brunch to enjoy together, cozied up in bed, and topped off morning kisses with the revelation of a tennis bracelet to go with your engagement ring.

“Toshi, it’s perfect…,” you all but blubbered out, ready to burst into tears. He treated you so well.

“Not as perfect as you,” he said with a smile, welcoming you to bury yourself in his chest.

Dinner warranted more of an effort from you, and so you dressed up in your finest attire for the upscale restaurant, armed with the complete awareness that your husband planned to rip every inch of fabric off of you tonight. It didn’t help that while your meal was pleasant, you could see Ushijima grow impatient with time, adjusting and readjusting the sleeves of his blazer as night approached.

When you finally returned to the front door of your home, you were stuffed but not to bursting, and that very little bit of space left in your belly seemed to fill with new butterflies, especially with Ushijima’s hand resting at the small of your back as he opened the door.

Why were you so nervous? You’d had sex before, many times over, but something about today felt… different? Maybe it was the looming idea of purpose, and Ushijima knew purpose very well.

When the door clicked shut, he wasn’t on you immediately as you expected, but he was still ready, as were you. He leaned down to plant yet another kiss on your lips that seemed to whisk the nervousness away - again he was your Toshi, and you were his, and you were going to create life.

“Baby?” He asked, tentatively.

“Baby,” you agreed, wrapping your arms around his neck to start another kiss anew. He carried you effortlessly, keeping his lips pressed to yours as he pulled off your high heels and tossed them haphazardly, leading you back into the bedroom where a smattering of rose petals along the shag carpet and in the center of the bed greeted you, along with a lightly diffused essential oil blend with heavy notes of ylang-ylang and cedarwood.

Laying you carefully on your back, his eyes shifted from soft to focused, practically to match the level of intensity you saw when he was on the court, and your pulse started to pick up again. While he didn’t exactly tear the clothes off of you as you had anticipated, your dress was pulled over your body quite hastily to reveal all of you. Inches of skin to mark, a beautiful body to fill.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured again, leaning into your neck for soft bites and kisses. He was still mostly fully clothed, and you could feel his swollen length press against your pubis, thick and heavy.

He let out a sigh, and climbed off the bed to undress.

“Don’t move,” he ordered as he pulled off tie, shirt, pants, in that order, and you couldn’t tell if you were more distracted by the sculpted muscles of his shoulders, arms, chest and abs, flexing and relaxing with every minute movement or the swell of his fat cock at attention, anxious to bury itself inside you.

You gulped. You knew this was a ridiculous thought, but for a moment, you wondered if it was somehow bigger today?

Before you even realized what you were saying, you were already pleading, “Toshi… please be gentle…”

Ushijima smirked at your wide-eyed look, then shifted back to taking in your splayed out body with his eyes, as though mapping out his strategy while he idly fisted his length.

“Of course, love. I would never dream of hurting the mother of my kids.”

Yet, he was absolutely going to have his way with you.

It didn’t take him long to make a decision on how to attack, anyway, because he quickly resumed position hovering over you, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of anticipating, open lips, slightly knit eyebrows over a curious gaze. His lower half pressed against you closely enough that again, you could feel the entirety of his warm, girthy length pressing against the bottom of your quickly wetting cunt to your abdomen.

The sheer span of his cock reminded you that he was basically designed to do this.

The fact that he started moving first, rubbing his length across your belly as if trying out the course before he dove in also reminded you how much your body craved him always.

His fingers entered you hastily, and he reveled in the way your cunt already made the lewdest of noises, soft audible squishes with every pump of his fingers as he prepped you.

“So eager… so sloppy, waiting to receive all of my cum, aren’t you?” He teased, withdrawing his fingers to show you some of your slick. “You’re receptive,” he added, pulling his two fingers apart to show you the stringiness of your arousal.

“I-I want this too, you know,” your face growing hot from the tease, hotter still when he sucked your wetness right off his fingers.

“What do you want?” He said, raising an eyebrow, still moving painfully slowly on top of you, but angling his body so that he was just running the entire base of his cock against your wet slit, killing you with every second he wasn’t immediately filling you up.

“Your babies, Toshi...”

That made him smile, and you earned the slight entry of his cockhead into you, forcing a slight moan out of your throat. The stretch was intense, as always, but the fact that he slowed had you squirming for more, as fast as possible.

“T-Toshi… please, more,” you moaned as you raised your legs to slide down further on his cock, and he held them, pressing both firmly along his side.

“How much cum can you take in this little body of yours?” he asked, pressing right at your umbilicus with one hand, as he pushed in a mere additional inch.

You let out something between a moan and a scream from the overwhelming sensation of being stretched with so many inches to spare.

“Just fill me!!! Please, just put everything inside me,” you whined.

“As you wish, darling.”

His arms hoisted your legs above his shoulders and he did you the service of thrusting all remaining inches inside you, forcing tears from your eyes from the too full sensation, kissing your ankles beside his head as he gave you time to breathe and adjust. Once you’d settled from the sound of your whimpers slowing, he reached for the headboard behind you before he started his onslaught.

Thrust after thrust after savage thrust, you could hear his groans deepen as he plowed the grounds for his seed, his hands tightening firmly against the wood of your headboard as it creaked for mercy.

He felt so good, so perfect, so fitting, stretching you out like this to make room for his kin.

Your fingers etched desire into his back, as you choked up a demand for more sensation, more him, more closeness..

“More, daddy!”

“Daddy is quite correct,” he mused, his hands moving from the headboard to quiet instead the jostle of your breasts, palming them gently.

They were so pretty to him, he couldn’t wait to see them swell.

He leaned down again to swallow your moans in a kiss, then opted to flip you above him instead, before he continued to snap his hips, bouncing you into the air.

“T-Toshi, you’re ah- too fast!” You shrieked, barely able to stand upright, the ride too rocky and intense for you. Palming his abdomen to walk your way up despite your movement, he brought you back down flush against his chest again, holding you tightly.

“Let me do the work,” he whispered, kissing you, making your head swim to distract from the fact that he really was rearranging your guts. “I’ll do at least this much, since you’ll be carrying our child.”

And to that promise, you came almost instantly, an impulse of shock traveling from your slippery cunt up that you could almost feel in the tips of your fingers that made your body clench, your toes curl and the sound that came out of your throat less dainty and more primal, coming from so far deep inside you, even you were afraid.

As if on cue, his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, holding you steady as he pounded into you even further, faster, pushing past fluttering walls and soundless cries coming from your lips, until he finally came with a shudder, spurting thick, hot gobs of liquid that you could feel hitting your cervix.

And it kept coming; he held you tighter, so desperately you thought you might break under his touch, burying his face in your chest - you could feel yourself still clenching around him, so greedy, trying to milk him for even more than the generous amount he was giving you.

It would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant.

When it finally stopped, he left an arm around your back pressing you close to him, letting out a soft, pleased sigh with lowered eyelids. You stayed against him for longer, cockwarming him, your hands languidly coming to rest on both sides of his face.

Your darling Wakatoshi…

He stayed hard inside you, slowly giving you just one more stroke to atone for the small amount of semen that was already threatening to leak out around him, then laid you on your back.

“You’re doing so well already…” he encouraged, scooping up drops of him spilling out of you. “Keep it all in,” he said breathily, a warm palm pressing on your opening.

“I will, baby,” you nodded, and he gave you another peck on the lips, then moved to one of your mounds to take a pert nipple in his mouth and suck softly.

His hand lingered on your hot cunt, warm and dripping; he instead focused on stimulating your nipples with the other hand and his lips, forcing another orgasm out of you with time and dedication.

He’d obviously read somewhere orgasms themselves made pregnancy more likely. Always so thorough.

“You... f-feel so good,” you mewled, your back arching with pleasure as he used a thumb to stimulate your clit gently as he kept his semen inside you.

He smiled, stroking his already re-hardening cock in his hand, preparing for the next round.

“Anything for my Valentine.”

With that was implied, the love of his life, and the mother of his kids.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #not sfw #ushijima smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #mae.writing #fic: november baby

2K notes · View notes

dhwty-writes · 3 years ago

Text

The Terribly Sad and Tragic Affair that Is the Fake Funeral of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss

Apparently, I am not only drawing for the Critical Role fandom, but writing for it, too. After months of nearly no progress I just vomited out 3k words this Tuesday and it only went downhill from there.

This fic is based on this post by @anne-o-nyme, I really hope I managed to capture the energy of it.

Have fun!

Summary: There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience.

After the sudden "death" of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss, it is his brother Verin's job to empty out his towers. The Mighty Nein show up to help (and maybe steal a few things).

OR: Verin is grieving, Essek just wants his stuff back, and the Mighty Nein are the Mighty Nein.

Warnings: I didn't tag this with MCD, because Essek is technically alive and kicking. Since Verin doesn't know that though, and this fic is written from his POV, this is dealing with grief and includes depictions of depressive thoughts as well as anxiety attacks. For more explicit warnings, please mind the tags on AO3. Take care of yourselves, and let me know if I forgot anything.

Read on AO3

There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience. "Listen," he said with what little calm he had left, "I know that by returning one of our beacons you became heroes of the Dynasty and were placed under Es— My bro— his stewardship. But this here—" he gestured vaguely at the interior of Essek's towers that had always been too cold, too empty, but not like now, never like now— "This is a very difficult situation for me, so if you could please leave, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Yes, yes, it's very sad that Essek died," the blue tiefling said—Jester, her name was Jester; she had given him that already as she had offered him her condolences with a hug—and Verin could barely contain his anger. After the funeral he had quite enough of lying dignitaries, nobles, and heroes currying favours with him. That had always been Essek's thing, he would know what to do, how to make them regret even daring to speak up; Verin had never been any good at it.

"But we're his friends!" He grit his teeth at Jester's blatant falsehood. Perhaps his anger showed on his face, since the tiefling faltered. "And, uh— Fjord?"

"It's true," the half-orc with too-smooth words and too-smooth voice lied, too. "We spent quite some time with your, er— your brother here. Made some good memories. We thought we might take this as our chance to say goodbye, too."

"We are here to help as well. We wouldn't want to infringe upon your grief, though," the tall firbolg added. "So, if you'd prefer us to return at a later point, we'd be happy to."

Verin was still trying to process everything—from these strangers showing up unannounced to their overwhelming presence to the fact that his brother was dead—while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the halfling who looked like she might have sticky fingers. So, he latched onto the word that stood out the most to him: "Help?"

"Right," Fjord said, looking slightly embarrassed, "we probably should have led with that..."

"We should have called ahead, too," the scary-looking human in blue—they didn't even wear white for the funeral—added. "We always forget to call ahead."

"But Beau, how should we have called ahead?" Jester complained. "We didn't know Verin yet."

"Well, Essek—" the human was interrupted by the even scarier-looking woman next to her stepping on her foot unsubtly. She at least had the decency to act embarrassed. "Right. Sorry 'bout that."

Awkward silence fell across the room, the Mighty Nein looking anywhere but him. It took him a few moments to realise they were waiting for him to speak up. "Help how?" Verin could have kicked himself. By the Light, he could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

A beat of silence followed, then everyone seemed to talk at once. Verin wanted to weep. How was he supposed to deal with this? How had his brother dealt with this? 'He probably hasn't,' he thought. 'They're probably all liars, probably—'

Someone cleared their throat and all eyes turned to the other human who hadn't said anything so far and who looked properly miserable. Immediately, the Mighty Nein fell silent. "Word has reached us that Den Thelyss ordered these premises to be vacated as early as possible," he said quietly with an accent Verin has been taught that belonged to the enemy. "And while some of us may not look like much, I can assure you, we are quite capable."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I supposed such menial tasks are beneath the heroes of the dynasty. There are servants—"

"Well, sure," the halfling with the probably sticky fingers interrupted, "but we know him. Knew him, I mean; sorry, force of habit."

"Besides, there's a lot of stuff," the lavender tiefling, who Verin was pretty sure was a known pirate, piped up. "Looks like you could use the help."

"If you want to, of course," the sad Empire human added.

Verin only wanted to scream, to give room to the torrent of thoughts raging in his head. 'My brother just died. My brother just died and he wasn't consecuted, so he's gone for good. He's gone for good and I didn't even know him; I didn't even know about these supposed friends he had because he didn't allow me near him in decades. I was a horrible brother and so was he, but I can't even be mad at him because he's dead.

'And now these liars show up and talk about friendship and knowing him, but those are all lies, horrible ones, because Essek had no friends. Essek was cold and cruel and lonely and do you even know how horrible that is? Dying alone with no-one who mourns you, just the favours you still owe them? Do you? I don't even know, and I'm his brother.'

Were he a weaker man, a less disciplined one, he might have said so. But he was Taskhand Verin of Den Thelyss and he had learned discipline before he had learned to talk. So, he said: "Your help would be greatly appreciated, thank you. I'll have the servants bring up some tea. There are, uh—" He straightened his back, summoning the composure that was befitting a Taskhand, even one with a dead brother. "There are boxes up there, they've been brought to the rooms already. Anything of value will be sold; the rest will be given to charity. The things— Well, if you find anything that might have sentimental value, something in his handwriting, perhaps, I think I should like to keep that, please."

The firbolg nodded sagely. "Of course. We will be careful with our selection."

With that, Verin turned around and— froze. Where was he even supposed to start? The towers had always seemed to huge for just Essek and he knew that there were very few personal belongings in them. Still, they would have to be scoured clean within the fortnight.

A large hand on his shoulder made him jump, although he'd never admit it. "Sometimes, when a task seems too large, you should start with the smallest part," the firbolg said. "If I were you, I'd start with the smallest room."

"Thank you, that, uh— that seems like good advice," Verin replied, still a bit startled and confused. "I, er— I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Caduceus Clay. I live in a graveyard, so I'm used to this," Clay said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Verin furrowed his brows slightly. A graveyard? It seemed highly unlikely to him that one of the heroes of the Dynasty would live in a graveyard of all places. Perhaps they were not only liars, but impostors too? But they had the symbols of the Bright Queen, so there wasn't much that he could say.

"Right," he mumbled. "I believe the smallest room would be the closet. Although it might be tied with the bathroom..." He trailed off again. He had never seen Essek's bedroom in his towers. Judging by how many times he had even seen the inside of the building; he could count himself lucky if he even found the way there.

"Why don't we split up?" Clay suggested. "One group takes the closet, one the bathroom and one the bedroom. We'd get done sooner that way."

"That is a great idea, Caduceus," Jester said excitedly. "I'll take the bathroom; I promised— er, I'm curious if I can find more of that hair oil, I got for Fjord that one time!"

"Ohhh, are you saying this is... an investigation?!" the halfling joined in.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Veth!"

"Seems like a case for Wildemount's best detectives!"

"Bye, Verin!" Jester called and he blinked and they were gone. Fjord joined them as well, muttering something about having to supervise them.

The purple pirate-tiefling shrugged, heading off in the same direction. "Well, I wouldn't mind rifling through some drawers. I'll have a look at that bedroom."

"Yeah, I don't need to see Essek's underwear, so I'll pass on the closet," Beau added tactfully—Verin was getting the sneaking suspicion that manners were not really her strong suit. She linked hands with the large woman at her side, pulling her along. "Come on, Yash."

"I'll go handle the tea," Clay said. "Don't worry about it." He vanished in the direction of the kitchen, his steps accompanied by the constant tap tap tap of his staff.

When Verin looked around, he realised that only the sad Empire human was left with him in the hallway. "If you wouldn't mind," he said, pointedly avoiding eye-contact, "I would love to have a look at the closet. I always, ah— appreciated your brother's sense of fashion."

Verin blinked at him a few times, then shrugged. "Sure." He began heading up the stairs.

"My condolences," the human continued. "I realise I didn't speak up earlier, but— I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he said, letting the same numb feeling wash over him again that he had embraced since the news of Essek's death had reached him.

"I know that we seem like a bunch of, ah— forgive my language, but assholes, but we're really here to help. I will tell the others to tone it down a bit."

"Thank you," he repeated.

"If you'd prefer that we start in, ah— less personal rooms, we can do that also."

"If I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know what I should be doing there."

"Neither am I." The human laughed nervously. "I have dealt with grief before, but I've never had the, ah— how do you call it? Hang on." He pulled out a copper wire and whispered: "Beau, how do you say zweifelhafte Ehre in Common? You can reply to this message." A moment later he straightened. "Right. I never had the dubious honour of emptying out a deceased person's house before."

"Neither did I," Verin admitted. 'Usually, the deceased person comes back,' he didn't say. Instead, he opted for: "You're, er— What's the word in Common? You're weird? I'm sorry if that's insulting, I just— waele xanalressen [stupid languages]."

"I don't understand your words, but I think I understand the sentiment." The man grimaced. "And I've heard that one before. I hope we're not too much of a... too much."

"It's alright," he lied and opened the door to Essek's bedroom.

It wasn't alright; Verin wanted to weep again.

The door to the bathroom stood ajar, as did several drawers and cabinets, although he couldn't glance inside. Considering that he heard glass shatter and a quiet "oops" followed by a hushed "Jester!" he was rather glad about that. Besides, what he saw was already quite enough to handle. Beau was currently rifling through Essek's nightstand, the tall woman tossing unread books on the bed carelessly, while the lavender tiefling seemed to make his way through his brother's collections of make-up and jewellery alike.

They froze when they spotted him and the sad human in the door. "Heeey, Verin," Beau drawled.

"These were all still closed, I swear," the lavender tiefling said immediately, gesturing at the jars in front of them.

Verin just sighed in defeat. "I don't wear any make-up, I don't care; you can have it. Put the jewellery in the box to be sold; the books are for charity if he hasn't read them. Just leave the earrings in front of the mirror, please. Those were his favourites."

Without another glance at them, Verin headed straight to Essek's closet, desperate to get some quiet. He took a few moments to collect himself, before closing the door and leaning his head against it with a heavy thunk.

He stayed like that for a minute or maybe two until he heard someone clear their throat. "I have been debating for the past fifty-five seconds, if I should just Dimension Door out," the sad human said and Verin very nearly jumped out of his skin, "but that would be loud and I didn't want to startle you. Not that I didn't startle you like this but—"

"Vithin shu," Verin cursed.

"Vithin shu ke," the sad human agreed, his accent in Undercommon even heavier than normally.

For a moment, they both stared at each other, equally startled by the course of events. Then, the human looked away again. "I, ah— have started learning Undercommon before, um— well, before." Verin tried very hard to focus on the way the human was scratching at his forearms; that way he had something else to focus on besides his nearing breakdown.

"This is a bit embarrassing, but, ah— I believe I forgot to introduce myself," the human continued. "I'm Caleb Widogast. Essek and I were... friends, yes, and ah— colleagues, of some sort. It's... complicated."

He scratched at his arms again before turning towards the shelves and pulling out a stack of tunics. He unfolded one, looked at it, then carefully folded it again, cast a cantrip to smooth out the wrinkles, and put it in the charity box. Then he repeated the procedure with the next. And the next. And the next.

Verin frowned, thinking for a moment about his words. There was something about them that seemed painfully familiar, although he couldn't quite remember. Then: "The transmutation specialist."

Widogast looked up in surprise. "Yes."

"Essek told me of you," Verin admitted.

The last time they had seen each other had been here, in these towers, just a few months ago. He had found his brother in his office, pouring over notes for a new spell, alive and healthy as ever. As always, he had entered without knocking. As always, he had pretended to read the notes. Not as always, he had noticed something wrong. "Whose handwriting is that?" he had asked.

"What?" Essek had snapped, his head whipping up. Then, however, his expression had softened. "Oh. A friend's. A colleague, of sorts. He's helping me out, a bit."

"With the spell?" Verin had asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's a transmutation specialist; you know that's not my forte. Now give it back, will you?"

"A colleague, huh?" He had grinned and held the paper out of Essek's reach. "Are you sure that's all?"

Perhaps Essek had been sick after all, for the strangest thing had happened: instead of using his floating cantrip to snatch the notes back, he had gotten a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes. He had even smiled with an expression Verin might have called dopey, if it weren't his brother they were talking about. After a few moments, he had snapped out of it, sighed, and said: "It's complicated."

"Did he?" Widogast asked tentatively. "Did he, ah— did he say anything else about me?"

Verin pinned him down with a glare, sizing him up. In hindsight, he should have noticed the thick spellbook at his hip earlier; judging by his slim frame alone, he should have known the man was a wizard. He supposed Widogast was handsome enough, although his brother had never cared much for that, with his copper hair and his striking blue eyes. Blue eyes around which crows' feet were gathering, as he noticed to his dismay. 'He's human,' Verin reminded himself. He might have a few decades left, maybe, whereas Essek had centuries ahead of him. The thought why his brother might condemn himself to more loneliness crossed his mind, though it hardly mattered. His brother had been the first to die, after all.

"Verin?" Widogast inquired quietly.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a thick voice. "I got lost in my thoughts there. He, uhh— he said that he trusted you." That didn't even begin to cover it, but these Mighty Nein had been lying to him since the moment they got here, so what was a little lie by omission? Besides, there were some memories that he wanted to keep just to himself.

"Essek," he had teased, still waving the sheet of paper out his reach. "Come on! Aren't we brothers?"

Essek had crossed his arms and pouted. He hadn't done that since they were both little. "Unfortunately. You are a menace. And a child."

"If you tell me about him, I'll give it back. Is he handsome? Is he a drow? Where's he from? How did you meet? When will I meet him? Can I promise to kill him if he hurts you?"

"Verin!" Essek had groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"What do you do when you meet? I bet you stay up all night, talking about 'arcane research' or something."

"We do, in fact. Are you done now?"

"Oh, is that what young people call it these days?" He had cackled at his own joke.

"Evidently not," Essek had muttered. "Might I remind you that you're younger than me?"

"Might I remind you that you're a buzzkill?" Verin had shot back and placed the note down. He had gotten bored of his own game.

Essek had taken the sheet of paper almost reverently and thanked him. "I would have hated it to rewrite that page." He had smoothed it down, stored it safely away in a folder, silent for a long time. Then, he had said: "Caleb."

"Excuse me?"

"That's his name," Essek had said. "Caleb Widogast."

Verin had frowned. "Hey, Essek?"

"Hm?"

"You must trust him a lot, to share a spell with him."

His brother had taken a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Verin hadn't expected him to answer, yet he'd said: "I do, actually. It's not the first spell we've created together and I would be honoured to create a thousand more with him. I'd trust him with my life, my death, and beyond. I think—" He'd huffed. "I think I trust him almost as much as I trust you."

Verin watched Widogast as he was looking through his brother's tunics, placing most of them in the charity box, and he wondered. Wondered if the trust Essek had obviously put in Widogast had been misplaced. Wondered if it had extended to his friends, as well. Wondered if ultimately trust had been his downfall, as he'd always feared.

Then again, if Essek had trusted him... perhaps that trust had been mutual. Perhaps they had been friends. Perhaps there was another person mourning his brother after all.

"Do I have something on my face?" Verin had given up on counting how many times Widogast had now startled him out of his thoughts.

"No, no I—," Verin stammered. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to the side. "For staring?"

"No, er— For your loss." Liar or no liar, it only seemed appropriate.

"Oh." Widogast turned back to the tunics. Verin probably should get started, too, shouldn't he? "Thank you. Though I'd wager your loss weighs heavier than mine."

"Probably," he agreed and turned to the task at hand. At this point, Widogast had moved on from the simple tunics to Essek's court regalia. After a short moment of consideration, Verin decided to look through the pants; he also had no interest in sorting through his dead brother's underwear.

Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching the wizard, pulling out one cloak after the other. At a few he wrinkled his nose, at others he just stared before putting them with the tunics. After a while one made him pause; an elaborate, beautiful robe in deep purple. "This is what he was wearing when we first met him," he said.

'He hated that one,' Verin thought. Not that he could say that out loud. Instead, he cocked his head and asked: "Are you sure? He has a lot of those. Had, I mean. Had a lot of those."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He tapped his temple with a faint smile. "I have a good memory."

"As does Essek," he snapped, suddenly feeling very defensive about his brother's capabilities. "I suppose most wizards do."

Infuriatingly, Widogast only nodded. "Indeed. Or they're not very good ones."

Silently, Verin turned back to the trousers. The sooner he got done, the sooner he got these people out of his brother's towers, the better. He didn't know for how long they worked in silence, Verin reminiscing about the times he had seen Essek wear the clothes and wondering about those he didn't know. Eventually, he folded the last of them and forced himself to return to the present. "I think we're done here," he announced. "Do you have a preference for a next room?"

"Perhaps the library?" Widogast offered a tentative smile. "I think I might be of more use there than folding clothes."

"More use than I will be, surely."

"I take it the wizardry doesn't run in the family, then?"

Verin only scoffed and opened the door to the bedroom again.

He immediately spotted Beau leafing through one of the books Essek had never read, while the tiefling was chatting amiably with the aasimar while braiding her hair. He also noted the boxes neatly stacked in the middle of the room. Besides that, he noticed with a heavy heart, the room looked much the same. If anything, it looked less orderly and empty than before. Except for—

"Where are Essek's earrings?" Verin demanded to know.

"What earrings?" the lavender tiefling replied with a too-wide grin the same moment Beau said: "Dude, there's tons of them, why don't—"

"No," he said decisively. "Essek's favourite earrings; they're always up here. I told you about them. Where are they?" His hands curled into fists, his neatly manicured fingernails pressing almost painfully into his skin.

"Perhaps you should look in one of the boxes," the aasimar woman suggested "I'm sure they're—"

"You're lying," Verin interrupted her, barely containing his anger. "Why are you lying? If they're in one of the boxes, then only because you put them there. So: where are they?"

Widogast only now stepped out of the closet, wearing an amber necklace he hadn't noticed before. "Verin—" he said tentatively, but he'd had enough.

"Shut up!" He startled himself with how loud his voice was. But he was beyond caring. "I know they're not in there, because the only ones to put them in there would have been you. So, either you're lying about having them put in there, or you're lying about stealing them, I don't care. Just— please. Please give them back."

The four of them passed a guilty glance. "We can't," Beau replied finally.

"The fuck you can't," Verin spat. "Give them back!"

"Verin, love, we would really love to," the tiefling added, "but we can't."

"I don't understand; is it precious things you want? Here, have some!" He strode over to the boxes and ripped the first open, tossing the lid towards the bathroom door Jester was peeking out of. He reached in to grab a necklace—an ugly one, he had always thought, with a stylised beacon—and threw it in their direction.

Beau caught it. Of course.

"Have a whole box, actually, if you like them so damn much." He reached inside and pulled out a jewellery box, tears prickling in his eyes. He threw one of those, too, just for good measure. It gave him some satisfaction that Widogast had to dodge it. "Just give me back the bloody earrings that my brother wore at my fucking consecution!" He was properly crying now and could only imagine the mess he looked like, but he had reached his limit. And, in his opinion, he was allowed to with all that was going on.

At least they looked a little bit guilty. "Fuck man, we didn't know," Beau mumbled.

"It's just one pair, Beau," Jester called over from the bathroom. "I'm sure it will be alright."

"Yes, there's no need for this to escalate," Fjord agreed and strode over to them, his hands raised innocently.

"I don't even know you people," Verin muttered, looking at the people crowding into his brother's bedroom. "Why did I even let you inside?"

"Do you want the earrings back?" the aasimar woman asked, reaching into a bag at her hip. Had she been carrying a greatsword for the whole time? Verin suddenly noticed how overpowered he was, were he to face all of them. "You can have them back if you want. Here, you can have them back."

"For a moment," Widogast added, slowly drawing closer to him and taking the earrings from the aasimar. He held them out on his flat hand, almost like he had seen soldiers offer treats to horses. His whole demeanour reminded him of someone trying to calm a spooked animal. For some reason, that seemed hilarious to him and he couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped his throat.

"Verin, I need you to calm down," he continued. "I know that's easier said than done, but you need your head."

"I think we should all calm down," Clay said from the doorway. And despite being surprised again, he did. It didn't make any sense, but few things these days did.

"Did it work?" the halfling asked. Verin wasn't really sure what she was talking about.

"It did," Clay confirmed.

"Gut," Widogast said and pressed the earrings that had seemed so important a moment ago into Verin's hands. "I think we should maybe go somewhere else, ja? Will you come with me?"

Inadvisable as it might be, if Essek had trusted that man, he should, too. And out of all of the Nein, he seemed to be the most normal one. The one he could see Essek with most. So, he nodded.

"I'll get us back to the kitchen, quickly." Caleb held out his hand and Verin closed his eyes, steeling himself. 'I hate Dimension Door,' was the last thing that crossed his mind before the teleportation spell ripped him away, together with: 'We haven't been to the kitchen, yet.'

Evidently, there went something wrong with the spell. Verin didn't know much about magic, but he knew Dimension Door couldn't transport more than two people. So, when he heard Beau groan and say "Fuck, dude, warn us next time," he knew that something wasn't right.

"You knew about the plan, Beauregard," Widogast replied.

"It doesn't matter," Fjord decided. "Caduceus, do you think you could make tea again? I think the Calm Emotions is about to wear off."

Cautiously, Verin opened one eye, then the other. They were, in fact, standing in a kitchen, as far as he could tell. All of the Mighty Nein were surrounding him. The furniture seemed to have been made for people taller than them; Essek probably would need to float in order to avoid awkwardly climbing onto the chair. The firbolg, however, who was fussing with a teapot, seemed to fit right in. All in all, the interior was very rustic. And very much not in Essek's towers, not that he had ever seen that room, of course.

The panic hit him once more. Verin whirled around to the wizard, instinctively grasping for his sword. "Where the fuck—" he faltered, finding his hip bare. Of course, he hadn't brought it for the funeral. Instead, he opted for just grasping Widogast by the lapels and lifting him up a bit. It was supposed to be menacing, which surely would be more effective, were humans not so annoyingly tall. "Where the fuck are we?!" he spat out.

A lot of things seemed to happen at once—he heard a "Fuck, man, what-" from Beau, a "Well, Mister Thelyss" from the pirate, several hands trying to tug him away from the weak wizard—but he didn't pay them any mind. He just shook Widogast, who looked entirely too calm for his liking, and demanded: "Answer me!"

"Leave him," was all Widogast said. "He has every right to be angry."

Indeed, the people grasping at him retreated, still on guard and surrounding him. There was a creak outside the door and Verin desperately wished for his sword once more. Then, a voice cut through the tense silence that had descended over the kitchen: "Caleb, is that you? You're back early."

"Yeah, there were some complications. Best come and look yourself, Schatz."

There was a sigh that was entirely too familiar for Verin's liking. Then, the door opened with a creak and in walked a dead man. "Complications," Essek Thelyss said with a fond smile. "I was just a Sending away, what did you come here fo— oh."

The person wearing his brother's face stopped in their tracks as they saw him. A couple of complicated emotions passed over his face—confusion, surprise, regret, guilt. If he hadn't known before, Verin was certain now that they were impostors, all of them. His brother would never tolerate such a display of weakness. Still, the impostor said: "Hello, brother."

Verin whipped his head back around to the wizard in his grasp. "What the fuck are you playing at?" he hissed.

"I- what- Verin!" the Essek-impostor sputtered. "What are you doing; put him down!"

"I would appreciate that, yes," Widogast added.

"Not before you don't tell me what's going on."

"Going on?" The impostor sneered and shook his head in a perfect imitation of his brother. "Nothing is going on, Verin."

"You died," he accused him.

"Evidently not," Essek scoffed.

Verin narrowed his eyes, looking from the man claiming to be his brother over the other too calm wizard to the rest of the Nein, seemingly perfectly happy to let this play out. "Prove it," he demanded. "Tell me something only my brother would know."

"You've become paranoid," he noted and Verin couldn't decide if it sounded proud or disappointed. "Alright. When you and I were in our early thirties, you once got in trouble for scaling the outside of mother's mansion. Rightfully, I should have gotten in trouble, too, but I was hiding on the attic. And the reason you never told anyone, is because then you'd have had to explain that I, the wizard, had somehow outpaced you, the fighter, in a climbing competition."

Verin wrinkled his nose at that. "Well, my brother cheated."

"I did not cheat, thank you very much!" He huffed indignantly and crossed his arms. "You didn't say 'no magic' before we started."

He stared at Essek for a few moments. "It's you," he whispered.

"Obviously."

Verin dropped the wizard on the ground and looked over at his brother; really looked. The man looked nothing like the one he had known for most of his life. His hair was longer than it had ever been since he'd cut it off and his bare feet were touching the ground. His clothes were casual, a simple tunic and trousers. After this day, Verin knew for a fact that not even Essek's trancing clothes were that informal, and yet his brother looked more comfortable in them in another's house than he had in decades. On top of that, he kept glancing over to Widogast. And smiling. Essek was smiling.

No, this man looked nothing like the one Verin had known for nearly a century. But he looked a lot like his brother.

"You're alive," he said stupidly.

"Yes, of course I am," Essek said, as if Verin hadn't just attended his funeral.

It felt only right to tell him so: "Why are you alive? I was at your funeral."

"That's a long story," he sighed and floated onto one of the chairs that were slightly too tall for him. He accepted a cup of tea from Clay with thanks and turned back to Verin. "Why are you here?"

"Well, that's a pretty long story, too," Jester spoke up. "He kind of started freaking out about your earrings, I think? And he was crying and looking pretty awful and everything, right Caleb?"

"I, ah— didn't think he'd believe us if we told him about you," Caleb said. "So, we had agreed beforehand to bring him here, in case of an emergency."

"He thought we were lying," Clay added.

"I suppose it is my story to tell," Essek said. "Earrings, Verin?"

"They're your favourite," Verin said stupidly and held them out to him.

His face grew soft. "Oh," he said as he took them gingerly, "I didn't know that you kne—"

Before he could overthink and do something stupid like stop himself, he surged forward and enveloped his brother in a tight hug. After a moment Essek closed his arms around him, too.

It seemed so unreal, to be able to hold him after mourning him for what felt like years. All the worries, all the grief and anger that had crushed him in the past few weeks and for what? For the bastard to still be alive after all. It wasn't fair. Why had he had to go through all of that? And why did he feel the pressing urge to start crying again? He should be happy, shouldn't he, that his brother wasn't dead. So why did it make him feel so awful?

"I think this is our cue to leave," Fjord said. Verin felt his brother nod and heard the Mighty Nein shuffle out of the kitchen, the door closing behind them with a creak.

Only then, Essek spoke up. "Verin," he asked quietly, "are you crying?"

"Shut up," he mumbled through the thick fog of tears and snot, definitely not crying. "I hate you, Essek. Do you know what I went through?"

"Meeting the Mighty Nein? Yes, I can imagine."

"They're horrible," he complained. "They're loud and they're rude and they had absolutely no respect for any of your belongings! I thought I was going mad."

"They are. They also are my friends, you know."

"How?" he asked agonised.

"I know they don't look like it, but they are surprisingly capable. And I am sure that you've noticed most of them to be annoyingly charming. But I think their absolute worst traits are their infinite stubbornness and perseverance. They quite literally did not leave me alone until they had befriended me."

Verin glanced up at him questioningly. "And were half in love with the wizard?" he guessed.

Essek scowled darkly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Perhaps."

He snorted and disentangled himself from their embrace. Very calmly he said: "You're a liar."

Essek looked genuinely startled at that. "What?"

"You said, you trusted me more than him. Why then, did he know and I didn't?"

"It's... complicated," he said.

"You wizards say that a lot."

"Verin." Essek closed his eyes. "I trust you. Implicitly. And I care about you. Which is why I chose not to burden you with the knowledge of my misdeeds. I didn't— I didn't want to put you in an impossible situation to choose between me and our queen."

He laughed nervously. "What on earth are you talking about? I mean, you didn't commit treason or anything."

Essek didn't answer, avoiding eye-contact instead.

"Right?"

Still, Essek kept stubbornly quiet.

"Oh," Verin breathed. He took a moment trying to reconcile what he knew about his brother with the fact that he was apparently a traitor. It all fit together ridiculously easy. "The beacons."

Essek looked up at him in shock and he knew he had hit the mark. "What?"

"You stole the beacons." Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Essek had been studying them at the time, one of the only people with frequent access to them. He had always been fascinated by them, yet his theories had been rejected for their heretic nature. As Shadowhand, he had also regular contact with counterparts from the Empire, albeit not officially. Then, a few years after Essek’s research had been denied, they had vanished. How had he never seen this before?

"Oh Essek...," he said softly.

"No, please— I don’t—Please don’t—” He seemed to deflate, curling in on himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, I—”

"I don't care,” Verin interrupted his frantic ramblings.

"What?" Essek looked up at him, looking just as shocked as Verin felt.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, realising that it was true the moment the words left his mouth. For how could he care about something as trivial as treason when Essek was sitting right in front of him, alive and well. "You're my brother, I don't care. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten. Right now, I only care that you're alive."

“I—What—I don’t—” Essek stuttered, lifting and then lowering his hands a few times. “I don’t know how— If I can—Fuck.”

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but even he knew that this wasn’t the right time for it. Essek was obviously trying to tell him something and it took him a minute to decipher that strange behaviour. “Are you asking for a hug?” he hazarded a guess.

An agonised expression passed over his face and for a moment Verin thought there were tears gathering in his brother’s eyes. Surely not. “I don’t know if I may. I don’t mean to overstep—”

Without further ado, Verin stepped forward and gathered a yelping Essek up and squeezed him tightly. “Of course you may!” he assured him, awkwardly patting his shaking shoulders. “I love you, Essek. I am very glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m very glad to see you, too,” Essek answered and squeezed him a little tighter.

302 notes · View notes