#this was supposed to be one of my days off posting-

[jifloulette]

reo brainrot is plaguing my mind so here's some short bf hcs !!!!!

note ; oh my god this was rotting in my drafts since NOVEMBER. finally got the energy to finish the last one my gosh..

bf reo mikage whose mood completely depends on yours !

his classmates find it silly how you could be sitting on your chair feeling down because of a low test score you got and reo would be there beside you, seemingly sad too, but because of what?? he got an A+ on the same test after all..? his family finds it relieving to see reo smiling beamingly whenever you're smiling, you wouldn't even be smiling directly at him yet he'd still look gleeful! his teammates find it weird how reo could be mad at them, yelling and yelling, shouting and shouting, reminding them to play properly and get their act together and then you come in unannounced with a box of cookies and that same smile reo adores, suddenly his eyes light up and he's squealing when you come closer to him as if he just didn't swear the living shit out of his teammates. if reo could do cartwheels and frontflips, he would've done those on the way to you because he is just so madly in love with youuuuu!!!!

bf reo mikage who absolutely loves hearing go on and on and on about your day !

he especially loves it more when you're spilling tea about people from your class. i mean yeah he knows it's bad but he can't help it? the way you're so focused on telling him an almost 3 minute gossip about this one girl in your history class is all he needs to just lay there on bed with you as he caresses your hair. those moments seldom happen, it usually has you having him lay on your chest while you talk about the funny incident at math class where your teacher forgot about the quiz that was supposed to be taken today and how you got 2 drinks from the vending machine instead of one because you had stumbled over air and hit the machine harshly which caused another drink to fall down. oh and he sees your eyes glimmer up and how you almost always run out of breath because you just have so much to tell him! even if he's always clinging to you either by interlocking arms or grabbing your waist, you'll always have some stories to ramble that even he doesn't know off!

bf reo mikage who impulsively buys anything he sees in stores that remind you of him !

it's a bad habit of his but is it really that bad when he gets to feel you embrace him when he shows you the new matching keychains he bought the two of you? though you tend to scold him for spoiling you rotten, nothing will ever stop him from buying you gifts and trinkets because that's his love language! passing by popmart and sees the mofusand hippers? automatically buys FIVE because he thought they looked like you whenever you were zoning out which is a telltale sign that you badly needed reo to give you a piggyback ride home, not that he minded it though. he's scrolling through facebook and an ad for a jacket pops up? he's already buying two versions, one for you and one for him so that you guys can match! reo def gets offended when you ask him how much they cost and that you'll pay him back because he is your BOYFRIENDDD, he will buy those gifts with NO intention of getting something back.

bf reo mikage who lets you do all sorts of hairstyles on him !

he will also proudly show it off when you guys are at school too, he could care less about what other people think because why would he? his s/o did that hairstyle for him so why should he be ashamed? you would see a cute hairstyle post whilst scrolling through Tiktok and wanted to try it out, but before doing it on you, what better way to see if it was cute by trying it out on your boyfriend? reo wouldn't even try to say no because he wouldn't mind it at all, plus it was a good way to spend time with you. you would let him hold your phone as you try to follow the steps in the video as quickly yet properly as you can. after a few mistakes and redos, you had finished the look and dare you say, it may fit him better than you.. reo looked really good even though the hairstyle was a bit on the feminine side. he'd keep it on for the entire day, not caring or doing anything when the teachers tell him to take it off (rich boy privileges LMAO) oh and later on, you'd also put pins and hairclips on him too! the ones that matched his hair and eyes! this would also be a frequent sleepover activity the two of you do, reo would set up a space in his room dedicated to THIS specific thing!!!

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ

[gotta-winwin]

(⚙️) ... watching him fade away [TEASER]

⭐ starring: jeonghan

💌 genre: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

💬 preview: It’s been 497 days since Jeonghan had awoken, only to realize he was completely alone.

tw/cw: post apocalyptic, conscious AI!jeonghan, abstract character death, fluff, angst, wounds

🪽fic rating/teaser rating: pg 🪽release date: feb 7 2025 🪽teaser wc: 507

☁️ masterlist & a/n: writing this has been quite the journey- and there is no better time to drop this than for the angst olympics! i gift this to @diamonddaze01 as a tentative (+loving) beginning to what i'm sure will be many angst fics to come.

this is a part of the angst olympics -- support other authors here!

SYSTEMS LOADING ….

“How might you need my assistance?” His perfectly crafted eyes blinked open. “My name is J-E-O-N-G-H-A-N, your personal robot for everyday needs!” 

The bird blinked back at him, ruffling its feathers and slowly waddling away.

“Do you need assistance?” 

Silence. 

Jeonghan didn’t really know what to make of it. Had someone purchased him from his creators? Where were they? Why was he sitting, legs spread and back leaning against the wall, in the middle of a giant warehouse? 

“No assistance then.” The monotonous whirr of his system began clicking as he shut himself off once again. 

SYSTEMS REBOOTING …. 

It took Jeonghan approximately 4 days, 6 hours and 47 minutes to realize no one was coming for him. 

Taking his first steps outside, he allowed his scanning mechanisms to take in his surroundings: the splintering hole in the roof, the overgrown walls, the barren landscape. It took him another 6 minutes to realize he was utterly alone. 

And what was an assistant robot supposed to do with no one to assist? The question burned in his mind as his programming worked to figure it out. Who was he supposed to help? 

Cheep. 

Jeonghan looked down. A spotted brown bird had bumped into his foot, its beak lightly chipping away at the metal. He bent down to scoop it up, scanning its features. 

“Baby Wood Thrush.” He identified. “Do you need assistance?” 

And so it began, the unlikely bond between robot and nature. Jeonghan found his purpose in assisting the only living things around him, building shelter for the antelope, finding fresh water for the birds, fixing the warehouse roof for the owls to nest in. 

But Jeonghan quickly learned that the animals couldn’t speak, not in any language his programming could understand. It made Jeonghan feel incredibly lonely. 

SYSTEMS ON ….

Jeonghan had discovered his great affinity for the ocean in his second week as a newly repurposed robot. He couldn’t get too close – the first time he had ran in head first, damaging his systems and taking days to repair – but he could sit by the many rocks along the shoreline, moving the crabs and turtles away from the tide. 

It made his chest ache as he trained his eyes on the horizon, wondering if there were people to help on the other side of the water. But maybe he was truly the only thing left of mankind -- Jeonghan didn’t know. 

But he did know he was different now. Water had fallen from his eye sockets last night, when he had turned on to find that a windstorm from last night had knocked over the bird nests, taking with it countless eggs he had been nursing. He couldn’t understand how it had happened, but it had. Jeonghan felt weirdly alive. 

The multiple gadgets and cords that made up his physical state felt more like organs and veins, pumping blood through the vessel the creators had called JEONGHAN. Your friendly assistant robot for your everyday needs. But he was much more than that now.

[rainbowsky]

Anonymous asked:

Big fan of your posts! What do you think of Huang Ziteng's [redacted]

Love to hear your thoughts!

Hi Anon. Thanks so much for your kind words, I am glad you're enjoying my blog! ☺️

I suppose you must be a bit surprised to see your name come up as anonymous, since your question was not submitted anonymously. It is because this particular ask put me in a bit of a dilemma and I decided to err on the side of caution. I don't want anyone getting offended by what I have to say about things like this.

The material in question

The content that you shared with me was indeed video footage of Huang Ziteng speaking on a livestream about GG and DD. I asked a dear friend who is fluent in Chinese to give me a rough overview since there was no translation, and this is what Shufu is saying:

They've been together for 6 years.

DD was the one who was more outward in the pursuit, but GG was expressing his love with his eyes, and it's impossible to say who was attracted first.

A bit of background about The Untamed, saying that an actor with the last name of Ma was already cast as Wei WuXian and only needed to sign the contract, but Ma was in a series that was popular at the time and decided he wanted more compensation. The production couldn't afford it, and switched to GG.

Turtles will have a lifetime of candies.

This video is also not new (based on other copies found online, it's at least as old as October of last year), and apparently this isn't the first time he's spoken fairly openly about them in a livestream.

My thoughts

I have somewhat mixed feelings about this, and I want to dig into a couple of issues because this really touches upon some of the core considerations of being a turtle.

1 ] Supporting closeted couples

GG and DD are closeted, at least when it comes to being in the public eye*. This isn't just because of their queerness, but it is also because they are celebrities and as such they're required to appear single.

*It is obvious they are out among their friends and close colleagues, but that is very different from being publicly out.

We need to consider audience expectations and the pressures of investors, brands and productions to be able to market stars on the perception of romantic availability. This is why stars in that industry tend to hide their relationships and even families and children.

As celebrities GG and DD are not able to be publicly out.

Being queer is undoubtedly also a complication. Even though many Chinese citizens are tolerant of homosexuality, especially the younger generation, many are only tolerant of it as long as it is not seen or discussed. It's highly likely coming out would result in a lot of backlash among audiences, even from people who aren't fans that dream of one day marrying them.

Chinese audiences can be absolutely savage towards anyone who takes up a certain type of public airspace. Anyone who sticks their head up too far for any reason stands a chance of having it chewed off.

That's quite apart from the political implications for them. The current government has had a very anti LGBTQ approach. GG and DD are not at liberty to be open about their sexual orientation if they want to be able to continue to enjoy a top spot in this heavily government-regulated industry, where they are frequently put in the position of being role models and ambassadors.

If they were to come out publicly about their relationship, or even just about being queer, it's very likely that a lot of queer people and queer allies would be inspired and emboldened by them.

While that might sound like a good thing to our Western ears, it's likely not so in the eyes of the government. This government treats LGBTQ people as potential political dissidents, which is why they crack down so much on opportunities for queer people to gather. Night clubs are shut down, queer organizations and agencies are shut down, Pride marches are no longer allowed.

The last thing they would want is for two of the top celebrities in the country to become poster boys for the queer rights movement. And this could easily happen whether GG and DD wanted it or not.

If they were seen as in any way leading or even just inspiring a politically subversive movement (as any movement that is critical of government policy is treated), it would not be good for them.

There is another, in some ways potentially more serious issue. This government has repeatedly characterized queer people as having a corrupting influence on youth. GG, and especially DD, are extremely popular among young people. If they were to come out about their relationship or about being queer, there is a possibility that in the eyes of the government they would instantly become 'corruptors of the youth', with all of the outcomes that one can imagine for such a corrupter.

In other words, it could be very unpleasant indeed.

Make no mistake about it, the government knows they are a couple. This government knows. But GG and DD are allowed to play the roles they play in the industry because they are useful to the government, because they are mouthpieces for political messaging, and because they keep a low profile with regard to their personal lives.

There's also the personal side to this.

As queer people, our identities and our personal lives frequently become a source of controversy and friction. Therefore our personal stories absolutely must be under our own control. We must always be the ones deciding how much about us is known, and who knows it.

All of this to say, this is not Huang Ziteng's story to tell, and as somebody who knows them personally and is publicly associated with them - having worked with them in the past - outing them like this to fans is extremely not okay. Unless he has their permission, he is seriously violating their privacy and potentially putting them at risk.

For this reason, I find it extremely difficult to imagine that GG in particular would have given him permission to speak openly about their relationship. He would have understood that it could make Huang Ziteng look bad, as there's no way for him to say or prove that he has their permission to discuss these things.

All other considerations aside, I just don't see GG being okay with that.

2 ] The issue of veracity

Turtles love Shufu. Of course we do. He gives us candy, and we all love candy. There are many turtles who starve and suffer without candy. Some of our favorite candies came directly from him. What's not to love?

The problem here is, there's absolutely no evidence or proof of anything that he says beyond what we already know as turtles. He isn't giving us any new evidence or proof of their relationship (and that's probably really good thing given what I just talked at length about above), and most crucially he has not given any fresh insight into them as a couple. Nothing that might show he really has an inside perspective on them.

There's absolutely nothing to say that he isn't simply parroting everything we say back to us, telling us what we want to hear.

For what purpose? Well, people can be a bit strange, especially when it comes to fame and attention and popularity. I've actually seen this with my own eyes IRL. Humans can behave in puzzling ways when in the proximity of people who are very famous and popular.

Personal opportunism aside, the world can be very cold and lonely, and people will often go to great lengths to feel special, to feel powerful and to feel loved.

I just finished talking about how much turtles tend to love Shufu. That alone is something that should give all of us pause when it comes to a situation like this. We are vulnerable to being taken advantage of by somebody in his position. We need to proceed with caution and understand the possibility that he could be just saying these things for his own purposes.

This actually happened with Cheng Yi. Remember she used to share a lot of cartoons and candies and other things related to GG and DD. It turns out that she tried to profit from impressionable c-turtles a while back, in ways that made them uncomfortable. We all need to be very careful who we trust. And I say this as someone who has a chronic problem with being too trusting and naive.

I am by no means saying that Huang Ziteng is lying, or that he is setting out to take advantage of turtles, I'm simply pointing out that we do not know where he's coming from or why he's doing what he's doing, and there are a lot of legitimate reasons to be concerned. We don't even know what his current relationship with them is, or if he actually has any recent information about them.

So I know a lot of turtles are going to be extremely excited about the idea that someone who knows them personally is openly confirming their relationship. However, I would urge caution on this.

The way I see it there are three possibilities:

He is directly aware of their relationship, and was sharing this information with their permission. Of course anything is possible, but given all of the issues I just discussed above, I find it highly, highly unlikely. They already have the fake rumor house and their own social media accounts and various other ways of feeding us. I find it unlikely that they would authorize friends and colleagues to out them publicly.

He is saying all of this without their permission, and doing so for his own reasons, whether that be emotional validation or personal gain or some other purpose. Unfortunately we have to accept that this is a very real possibility.

He is a turtle himself, whether he has direct knowledge about their relationship or not, and is excited to talk about them with other turtles, and everything he is saying is just the ramblings of any turtle - without any actual validation, just like any other turtle.

Which of these possibilities am I leaning toward? For now I'm sitting somewhere between option two and option three - much more leaning to two. I'm going to reserve judgment for now, but I'm starting to look a little bit more carefully at past candies from him and thinking they might need to be reevaluated.

In other words, I'm starting to have doubts about him and his motives, although I am keeping an open mind. I will need more information before I can really make a decision on where I stand.

I would like to conclude by saying to everyone - don't be cynical, don't view everyone as a grifter or an opportunist, but also don't be naive and gullible. Things are rarely what we assume, whether we are assuming well or ill.

The truth usually falls somewhere between, in the grey area between the extremes.

Maybe one day we will get the answers to some of these questions, but for now we really don't have much information to go on. It's up to each turtle to chart their own path, I just hope we will all exercise critical thinking and discernment.

Final thoughts

Someone like this coming along and saying a bunch of stuff does not change a single thing for me as a turtle. I have no way of knowing whether he is speaking based on his own personal experience and close relationship with them, or whether he is speaking as a turtle who has been at some remove from them since filming.

I long ago stopped needing any validation of GG and DD's relationship. I trust my own judgment, so this kind of confirmation isn't really something I seek out or feel any kind of way about at all. I already believe BJYXSZD.

I feel like that insulates me somewhat from being swept away by something like this, and makes it possible for me to look at it with a skeptical eye.

If we analyze what he's saying, he sounds like somebody who has been watching the BTS. This is exactly the sort of thing I've seen many turtles say over the years. And if you examine his statements, for example, "It's impossible to say who was attracted first," a comment like that makes my spidey senses tingle.

If he was close enough to them to know the details of their relationship, and especially if he was close enough to be given permission to share those details, surely he would have some insight into such things, or at least some personal flourish to add.

So for reasons I already stated, I'm not able to take this at face value and just trust he is acting in good faith and out of complete honesty as someone who is in their close inner circle. If anything this throws everything he's previously shared into doubt for me, and makes me wary of his motives.

Like I said, every turtle has to chart their own path, and develop our own perspectives based on the available information.

It's not like we have to decide one way or the other, either. It's always an interesting thought exercise to explore a variety of different perspectives and possibilities, and keep our minds open. Since we are unlikely to ever get confirmation one way or the other, there's no point in jumping to conclusions.

In any case, I will be keeping my eye on him.

My friend said the most interesting thing about this livestream is what he says about GG and the role of WWX. I have to agree. Production talked during promo about GG being first choice for WWX, so this statement from Huang Ziteng is very interesting (and likely impossible to verify).

Standard disclaimer: this is my personal opinion based on my own experience and perspective. There may be people who will disagree with what I have to say and that is their right, but I won't tolerate any hostility. We can agree or disagree on friendly terms. Anyone who is unable to be friendly and civil in their disagreement is asked not to respond to this post.

[sheepispink]

Distance makes the Heart grow Fonder ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Chapter 6 of my Sweet As Sugar Series (baker!reader x lt ghost

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: Simon leaves in deployment, though just before he goes, your father unintentionally sets a fire alight in Simon’s chest, one he’s never felt in years. It brings him to a realisation he didnt think was possible.

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It’s surprising; in Soap’s entire career, he never thought he’d see the day that Ghost actually looked reluctant to come back to work. Usually he was the one to complain about everything he missed, especially in the mess hall when they grabbed their meals together. Though today Ghost’s eyes were particularly downturned, and he hadn't interrupted Soap once to tell him to do less speaking and more eating. “Ye not gonna tell me to shut up today?” He tilts his head towards the masked man before promptly shoving a bland potato in his mouth, chewing it without a care in the world.

“This tea is horrible; that's why.” He grunts, placing the cup down onto the table with so much force the liquid almost splashes out of the cup altogether. “Thought ya didn't care about the taste?” Soap raises a brow, even more confused. When had his Lt thought twice about how good his tea tasted? Sure, he’d been bragging about the cafe in town for a while now, but he didn't think anything would sway Riley this much. He’s only seen the man this annoyed that time he was given rice instead of pitta when they grabbed their post-deployment kebab.

“My standards have been raised.” Ghost scoffs a little, watching as Soap gulps down a large swig of his strong coffee as always—licking his lips from the three sugars he had just stirred in. “Are you going to finally tell me who that lass was now? Gaz is dying to know too.” He rests his elbows on the table, grinning cheekily at the man opposite, who only shoos him back and narrows his eyes in a faux glare. “You told Gaz?”

“Wait till Capt’ comes back–”

Ghost wasn't sure how to feel about his team’s sudden interest in his private life, but he supposed it seemed natural given that he wasn't one for making friends, let alone getting close to the baker girl in the town they frequented off deployments. “She works at the bakery, that’s all. I helped her with some heavy things.” He chooses to omit the part where he had willingly joined you on a mini road trip and spent time with you at the winter market. Soap will definitely never know about the incident at your apartment either.

”Wait, she’s the one who makes those pastries your unit had? We ‘ave to pay her a visit too. I mean, my mouth watered when i smelt ‘em.” He laughs, remembering the time he had begged Ghost to let him try just a tad of the cookie you had graciously provided him once. He’d take the death glare, especially since after he ate half, he had easily decided it was the best one he’d ever tasted. Besides, he wanted to see what had caught Ghost’s eye to the point he spent more time off base than on. Unfortunately, the masked man had caught onto it quickly, standing with the tray in his hands. “Yeah, you go spillin’ crumbs on yourself in the middle of the briefing we have in ten.” He rolls his eyes, already expecting the alarm in Soap’s eyes as he quickly stands and throws his tray away too—he always had a tendency to rely on Ghost as a personal reminders app.

————

The meeting seemed to last forever, and he had to adjust himself to stand straight every so often just so his mind wouldn’t wander off with the memories of only last week. Though, he couldn’t keep them away for much longer since as soon as he was on the treadmill, everything in his mind was let free. The thing was, even though he hadn't said it directly, Johnny was right—you had caught his eye in a way that he couldn't even figure out himself. From the day he saw you in that shop, dancing along to a song that you embarrassedly shut off as soon as he entered, to the pretty smile you flash every time he enters the shop. In fact, your demeanour seems to light up without you even realising; it’s adorable, really. He notices the pep in your step, the slightly higher pitch in your voice, and even the way you greet the customers with happiness just ‘cause you’re eager to draw your doodle on the side of his coffee cup again. Maybe if he had a little more experience in all of this, he would’ve teased you about it all, or he would even go as far as to admit that you’ve made his heart thump more than any life-threatening situation will. Though, if he told you that then you might just force him to a doctor out of sheer worry.

What if you don’t even see it the same way? What if you’re just being friendly and he’s acting like a creep, reading into all of your actions? He ramps up the speed on the treadmill a little more, his thighs starting to burn the more forceful his strides grow. It’s empty in this room, no sound around save for the heavy thump of his boots bouncing off the walls. He’s heard female soldiers complain before; they huff about how the younger soldiers ogle, and the older lieutenants shamelessly give their remarks. What if he ruins everything and makes you uncomfortable? He’s not even sure he can handle a relationship; he always thought he could never commit to it, nor did he think he could put the constant energy and thoughts into caring so much for somebody. But with you, it just comes so naturally; he barely has to think twice when he converses with you, even less when you chatter to him about something that happened the other day. Relationships always seemed like obligations to him, even if the girl was nice or sweet; something always sucked the life out of him dry until he broke up with them just for their own sake. He didn't want the same to happen to you; no he wouldn't dare hurt you in such a cruel way.

Then what, should he just pull away from you altogether?

That thought alone stills him, the idea of never seeing you again making his body still like a bucket of cold ice dumped over his head. His feet falter as his heart stammers, and his hands can only graze the handles before his knees hit the floor with a painful slam—sliding off the treadmill altogether in a heap of limbs. He looks down in shock, more so down at himself as he sits on the floor in front of the treadmill he had accidentally pushed to the maximum speed. Damnit; he really has fallen for you.

————————-

The little bell rings as he pushes the glass door open; it’s the day before he leaves for deployment, and he was hoping he’d see your grin one last time before he goes. To his dismay, you’re not on shift today, likely doing a grocery run or something similar. Today, your parents are handling the shop, and although you informally introduced him once, he’s almost sure that they don't approve of him. It’s not like they’ve made it obvious; it just seems inevitable due to his chosen attire and his line of work. Naturally, he hadn't expected your father to smile at him widely and know his order before he could say it.

“Flat white or black today? No tea today, unfortunately.”

Simon can only blink in surprise, clearing his throat in hopes he doesn’t sound too hoarse. “Flat white. I’ve got deployment tomorrow, so I'll have to indulge now rather than later.” He doesn't usually add on detail, but he feels like he’s obliged to, just for the sake of seeming a little better towards your parents. Thankfully, there’s not a hint of the disdain he expected on your father’s face; he only laughs, ringing in the order whilst he turns to make the drink for him. “I’d hardly call a flat white an ‘indulgent’, kid.”

Simon barely gets the chance to acknowledge the fact someone just called him ‘kid’ before he’s talking again, and he feels himself stand a little straighter to make sure he doesn't look like some sleazy boy.

“She’s gonna be upset, y’know? Maybe you’ll be better off paying a stunt double to take your place instead of saying you’re on deployment.” The man chuckles again, his face lighting up the same way you do, and you’ve clearly learnt his technique of pouring the steamed milk too.

“I’m sure she’ll forget by the second day; the other customers will have to suffice with all her stories.” Simon brushes off your potential reaction, almost positive that you wouldn't even lose sleep on the matter. Besides, you’re plenty more friendly than he’ll ever be; he’s sure you’ll make quick friends with the other regulars.

“Forget? I won't hear the end of it until you return. I don't know what you did to that girl, but she’s been as bright as the sun since you showed up.” The older man pressed the lid onto the cup, turning around to hand it to Simon. “We’re grateful, y’know? She had a tough time when we first opened; it didn't help that we couldn't afford her further education.”

“I.. didn't know that.” He can't say much else, the words spilling out and surprise evident in his tone.

“We travelled a bit before buying this bakery, so she’s never had many constant friends; it was out of our control.” The man packs up a small bag, placing it on the counter for Ghost to take as well before giving him a grateful smile. “She’d have come around eventually, but the point is, she’s very fond of you. Always makes sure she has your favourite biscuits restocked too.” He chuckles, and Simon stares down at the bag, the faint outline of chocolate bourbons inside. He truly was a lucky man.

———-

Ghost had a hypothesis, and that was that the simplest missions were always the longest. Well, not literally, but they felt as if they dragged on forever. He was positioned up in these mountains to scope the area prior to his team’s entry; however they wouldn't be here for another two hours anyway due to unforeseen circumstances. That meant that for the meantime, he was a sitting duck. It also gave way to the thoughts he hadn’t been able to consider ever since he first processed them, promising himself he’d debate it later after this all blew over.

The thing is, he couldn't fathom the idea of you feeling low or even having a few friends. He considers himself to be on the loner side, considering most people perceived him that way, and he didn't exactly contact anyone outside of the military save from his old boss when he worked as a butcher—he always said happy new year to him. The difference is, he kind of liked it that way, but clearly you haven't been given a choice in that matter. It fills him with an urge, one that’s a little out of place for him yet fits perfectly in his chest. He wants to make sure you’re happy, well, as far as he can do so anyway. And on the off chance you do get upset, he wants to be the one to cheer you up after.

It’s weird to him, having someone that needs him as a presence in their life, someone who’ll miss him when he’s gone. But what’s worse for him, is that he realises now that he misses you every time you’re gone. He thought he had gone crazy the first time Johnny went on deployment without him, and he had to listen to Gaz talk about the latest football game all lunch— not that Johnny usually had anything better to say either. He had only realised he missed him when Soap described the same feeling when Gaz had left for deployment. He figured it comes with working closely with others very often; after all, being forced out of a routine would never feel right. So, he was even more surprised when he had only spent a month and a bit getting to know you, but somehow every moment away just seemed duller.

That night the evac trucks take him home quietly, along with the rest of his team. They’re exhausted, Soap and Gaz more so than himself; they're practically nodding off beside him. Not that he minds being their pillow for the ride, but he does stop to wonder what it’d feel like if your head was the one on his shoulder. He’d probably wrap an arm around you—if you’d allow him, of course—and maybe just sit in silence whilst a movie plays. You’d be happy with someone around, he’d be happy to have a quiet night in, and maybe a quiet sleep again.

That’s the moment he decided what he was going to do and what he’s currently doing right now. It’s two am, and he’s just got back, barely even washed up yet. His phone is in his hands, your little profile picture grinning at him cheekily as he stares at the unsent message.

“Are you free for dinner on Wednesday? My treat, and an apology for leaving you for so long.”

—————————-

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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Taglist:

@hidden-treasures21 @bieberismysoulmate @gallantys @tessakate @galactict3a @krispymagazinepizza-blog @silas-aeiou @kupids-arrow

[mullermilkshake]

PART THREE - Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader x Satoru Gojo

One hot day. Tags- Kidnapping,Mutilation,Sexual tension,Yandere!Gojo Yandere!Reader,Creampie,Death by machinery,Murder

“Ken, baby.” He ignored your sweaty drawl in his ear, his teeth grazing down your sensitive shoulder to make you shudder underneath him.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, Darling.” 

He could, very well in fact, you were certain you’d said it clear enough after the third time he made you come. Kento had a knack for overstimulation. so controlled and accurate to the settings on your body it was as though he’d written the manual.

“No more… I don’t think I can go again.” 

“Look at you.” He brushed a strand of damp hair from your face, moving his hips in a way the anticipation hurt in slow burning movements. “I believe you can go once more. Don’t you?”

You shook your head and breathed out rapidly as your body got weaker and more achy. Weather permitting, you still had to drive somewhere after this, what if your legs gave out before you got there? Or if you didn’t have strength to use the brakes, you’d go careering off a ledge into a ditch or something.

Kento knew you had to leave after too, that’s why he was dragging it on.

He’s so considerate to my needs and so needy… I love that. 

Still, you really did need to leave sooner or later, otherwise the heat in the air would ruin the package you had in the trunk. It was probably melting and sweating already, it had to be posted today otherwise you’d get a late fee.

“Baby… I really have to go.” You never wanted to, ever.

“I suppose I’ve kept you long enough, haven’t I?” Kento pressed his lips to your nose and pecked your cheeks and forehead. “Hold on then.”

He pulled you close and wrapped his muscular arms around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He was clearly bracing for the best fuck of your life, his hips bucked and thrusted without notice or mercy. Kento fucked you within an inch of your life and wasn’t sorry about it.

I love it when he uses me like this. 

You were his to command and use in any way he deemed appropriate, it seemed like he was beginning to clock onto it with how he held you down like he didn’t care. His hard cock pulsated and shuddered at the wet slickness hung in the silent room par the wet breaths and bare skin against the other. The way his ragged breaths in your neck sent you crazy, locking your legs around his waist more tightly with a threat of your fingernails digging in.

“Come inside me- I want you to come inside me… Please.” 

You loved it when he came inside you and left you in a mess. Like a mark to show he owned you in the most primal way, like the way animals marked their territory. You would let it happen, give yourself to him entirely and all you wanted in return were those three little words.

That’s all. You were still waiting on them, but eventually you knew they would come.

“Inside you?” He rasped, pulling back to watch you with lidded eyes though never letting up his pace. “How much do you want it? Tell me.”

“Lots- more than lots-” It was all you could bring to the table, your mind beginning to melt for real.

“Use your words darling.”

With a bit of umph from his hips, you got there. “So much, I want it so much, Ken, Baby please!”

Kento kissed you again, but left his lips lingering against yours and held you tight. As if on cue, he emptied himself inside you, coming hard and jerking between your legs with the same animalistic grunt that made you gush.

“Fuck…” Now, you didn't want to move at all, just stay as you were for a little while.

But the package. Fuck. Fucking waste of space and time, useless piece of shit! 

Kento stayed as he was, the noticeable sweat dripping from his hair all over your chest. It was just that hot today and the air conditioner chugged temporarily.

“It’s so hot in here.”

He huffed at you with a smile and pulled you up, still inside and still very much erect. “And you said it was a good way to pass the time… come take a shower with me? Before you go.”

And you did, a quick one at that before regrettably leaving into your hotbox car before the air conditioning kicked into a little. You waved Kento off noting his bare chest out on show just for you, he waved and waited for you to drive on the road before closing the door.

“Holy shit it’s really hot in here.” The breeze from the car window did better than the AC but it was the package in the trunk you were nervous about.

A small and mostly insignificant package you only agreed to deliver because you were petty enough to drive all that way. But soon enough you were regretting wasting gas driving all the way out in the middle of nowhere to a recycling plant.

You drove slowly along the winding road and hit a few pot holes, sending the package flying around in the back with an almighty thunk. Shit, it better not be broken. If it was, you’d kick yourself for letting it sit as long as it had.

Pulling up, no one greeted you or even made themselves known. Well, they wouldn’t have, this site worked more in the twilight hours due to the heat. Dropping the package off meant that someone else would find it later.

Good enough for you.

The heat hit you right in the face like a firm barrier as you hopped out and made your way to the trunk to secure the package for delivery. The banging stopped and you could only imagine what state she was in.

“Sorry, I forgot how hot it was… Oi.” You bent down and slapped the woman's cheek about a little.

She was an opportunist who decided it was good etiquette to touch Kento’s hand two seconds longer than socially exceptable and giving him ‘fuck me’ eyes right in front of you.

Stupid dumb bitch. 

“Don’t say you’ve died on me before I can do what I wanted to do.” You smacked her again and she wriggled a little. “I’ve always wanted to do this to someone like you, so wake the fuck up!”

She opened her eyes and panicked, trying to move away from you like she could get far. The woman was gagged and bound, she couldn’t have run away at all if she wanted to. No, the only option she had was to wriggle around like a dirty slug on the floor, ready to be squished.

You yanked her out of the car and let her fall with a thud, crying behind the cloth in her mouth which soiled the dry powdery dirt. “Now, I’m going to take you up there, and you can mull over on what you did, alright?”

“Mhhhhhhhmmppphh!” 

“Cry me a river, bitch. You know exactly what you did.”

The sweat began dripping from your brow, the shower did nothing to keep you fresh but only prolonged the sweat of hard work. The anger spurred you on to drag the woman towards the facility by her feet. She thrashed and wiggled to the best of her ability, screaming behind the gag and you just ignored her. She was mocking you. You saw the side eye she gave you at the counter after giving Kento his change, she thought she was better than you. Better for Kento apparently.

But you were obviously the better match, otherwise he wouldn’t be with you, right?

You dragged the woman up some cast iron stairs, making sure to hit her head on each ledge on the way up. Each scream was as satisfying as the last, a musical symphony just for you to enjoy. She frantically wriggled so much, she actually popped the gag out from her mouth.

Her voice split through your brain like an icepick embedded in your skull. “Please- please don’t do this! I’ve done nothing wrong- please!”

“So you figured it out then?” The lever clicked and turned the machinery on which should have required ear defenders, you crouched down and watched the amusing fear in her eyes. “No one touches my man and gets to keep both their hands. But you did it on purpose to spite me. So I can’t let that slide.”

The metal shredder blinked to life for a moment and powered down again. You turned and almost toppled over. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“What?” Gojo shrugged, leaning on the metal pole barrier over the metal shredder. “Your ears aren’t protected, you’ll damage them.”

“Help me- please help me, she’s crazy!” The woman pleaded to him despite his eyes never acknowledging her.

Standing up was meant to intimidate him, however it didn’t. “You were following me- when the hell did you get here?”

“I’ve been here long enough. I wanted to see what you were going to do- I mean, throwing her in a metal shredder? I’m already getting a hard on. But then you decided on doing this in unsafe working conditions. That I can’t abide.”

“Please, help!” 

“You are ridiculous. I told you to leave me alone and now you’re going to ruin this for me again?” You poked his chest as a statement, but he took it in his grasp and pulled you close. “Don’t touch me. I dragged her sorry ass all the way up here and now you want to help me? Give me space for christ sake.”

“Oh my god, someone listen to me!” 

He didn’t move after you attempted to yank yourself out of his grip, like embedded rock. “I’ll help you. I said I’d do your dirty work for you.”

You cringed at his hand sliding down from your back to your waist, holding you firmly as though you were lovers. “I said get away from me! I’ll do this on my own.”

“Help me!” 

In unison, you and Gojo turned and glared at her. “Shut up!” 

This temporarily muted her in shock, shuffling up against the metal grating like it would do anything to protect her. You finally slipped from Gojo’s grasp, but it was clear you did because he let you. You kicked the level to switch the machine on and the woman started screaming again.

“This is mine. Don’t get involved.”

The woman tried backing away and wriggled as much as she could to prevent you throwing her off the edge. “Get off of me, please don’t do this!”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch. You’re going in one way or another so just accept that you’re a man stealing whore who can’t get her own.”

“You want some help?-”

“Fuck off, Gojo- what are you doing?!” He had pushed past you and lugged the woman over his shoulder and just threw her in like she was nothing but a discarded tissue.

Despite your anger of being side blinded again, she was trash.

“I can’t believe you-” Gojo grabbed your waist and cupped the back of your neck until your lips ghosted his in the wide spray of blood and popping crunches below, he could have kissed you, but he didn’t.

He kicked out his leg and switched the machine off. When it died down, you could have sworn he was inhaling you, his hot breath dusting your bottom lip and making it tickle. “I can smell him on you. Are you doin’ this on purpose?” He rested his face in the crook of your neck like Kento had done. “I can’t take this…”

“Gojo…” what could you even say to that? Actually, you knew exactly what. “You ruined it again! I can’t believe you, you just can’t leave well enough alone!”

He watched you with adoration, fiddling with your earlobe absentmindedly. “What can I say? When it comes to you I get a compulsion. You get it too. So you know what I’m feeling right now.”

“You don’t know how I feel, all you think about is yourself. I have a boyfriend who I love and will do anything for and you’re getting in the way of it!”

Gojo turned you a little and shifted his weight to one side. “Well if that’s the case, maybe I’ll head back to Nanami’s place right now and get rid of him. Seems the right thing to me, I don’t know what more he’s good for to be honest with you.”

This cocky bastard.

“Take a fucking step back- I told you before that if you touch a hair on his head, I’ll hurt you in the worst way possible.”

“Sounds romantic.” Was he going to kiss you?

You wouldn't let him if he tried. “You’re my worst nightmare.”

“And you’re my best wet dream ever…” No he wasn’t going to, because he pulled away and flashed a cheeky grin. “Hey, I have an idea on how Nanami can be useful, I might tolerate it. How do you think Nanami feels about threesomes?”

Tag list - @nanamineedstherapy

Hi! 😊

Your writing is so immersive that it feels cinematic—like watching a movie unfold in real time. I love how you always manage to surprise me with plot twists that I never see coming! It’s such a refreshing change from knowing exactly where the story is headed.

I’d absolutely love if you could give Yandere!Reader another go with Nanamin. I think it would be fascinating since Nanami’s level-headedness might keep him from suspecting her. And if you're open to poly ships, it’d be thrilling to add Gojo into the mix with a twist—Yandere!Reader x Nanami x Gojo, but with Gojo secretly yandere all along. Maybe he’s been stalking both of them, planning for the perfect moment to reveal his obsession and orchestrating their “first meeting” to suit his agenda. I’ll leave the rest to your creativity, as I’m sure you’ll bring unexpected layers and depth!

Thank you for considering this! I’m so grateful for all the hard work you put into your stories. 😊🌸

Thanks so much for the kind words! It really means a lot. I love trying to write it all cinematic and doing things that go against the grain because my brain is twisted lol.

I can definitely do that, I hope you enjoy it!

Kento Nanami x Reader x Satoru Gojo

TAGS- Yandere!Reader,Yandere!Gojo,Stalking,Thoughts of killing people,Yandere!thoughts and motives,Masking,Graphic depictions of violence and mentions of damage to eyes.

One americano, two shots of espresso and two pumps of vanilla. Every day at seven thirty five. But not on Sundays sometimes because meetings run over. 

“Oh! I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going- oh god look at your suit, it must be expensive right?”

It was about time you made proper contact with Kento Nanami. You watched on in awe at his stance, brushing the coffee away from his suit in such a way it made the mundane action sexy. Lustrous. Like he was trying to make the way he allowed a strand of hair to fall past his forehead almost purposefully. With an intent to send you crazy.

Good thing you weren’t like those fangirls you often saw on television, crawling about the stage because a man gyrated over his mic. No, you were merely a coffee barista. A damn good one at that. Well, except for spilling coffee all over Kento’s suit.

But how else were you going to get his attention?

You were barely hanging on as it was watching the others make his drink to order. That’s why you made this one for him.

Jesus fucking hell Utahime It’s two pumps of vanilla. I swear I could kill that bitch right now. Shove head under the hot water valve and watch her eyes burn out the sockets.

It was a little drastic, even for you, but if anyone just saw the way Utahime was talking to Kento they would have assumed the two were dating or something. Kento Nanami was single. Definitely single.

The last girl he wanted to date just never made it to that coffee date on time.

None of his other dates did either.

“It’s fine, really.” The first sentence he spoke to you wasn't ‘thank you’ or his coffee order.

A formulated sentence.

Well, that was five months ago. Kento Nanami made the right choice that day to accept your invitation for a drink. Just like you planned. All seemed well and good for a time before you were noticing something strange when out in public.

White hair.

It was all you seemed to ever see. Out in the store or late night trip to the movies, hooked up to Kento’s arm during a scary or suspenseful part. It just seemed to be there, though you never knew who it belonged to. Never a face to linger for a second to make the connection. Just nothing. It tickled the back of your neck, putting you on the defense as though Kento was in danger. What sort of fucked up person would stalk someone? The idea of it was deranged, sick at the thought that someone was watching him, watching you with him.

White hair. You just couldn’t place it.

“Ken, love! What do you think of this dress?!” You called from upstairs, slipping on your shoes and smoothing down the hem of the fabric.

“I’m sure it’s perfect-” He paused, looking you up and down as though studying every inch of your body before he forgot what it looked like.

“Do I look pretty?”

He nodded slowly, stepping close to sit his hand on your waist. “You look beautiful.”

Hearing Kento say such kind and wonderful things made your night, heck, your entire week. Who gave a crap what anyone else thought? Just Kento was more than what you needed to prove that he liked you very much. You loved him of course, but that was love at first sight. Counting down the agonising days until he said it back to you, when you told him all the time in your head or whilst he slept. It took restraint not to slip up and make him doubt things.

So difficult not to say it for the man you loved.

“Thank you.” You giggled at his touch, planting a kiss on your temple with a husky growl in his throat.

“Maybe we should leave dinner tonight? I can’t possibly see how I’ll cope without taking you back to mine straight away. Too beautiful.”

“Restrain yourself, Ken. Someone might think you’re in love with me or something!” Your ecstatic grin sat just in front of your face as though to mask your brain away.

Say it… just say it please. Tell me you love me. I need to hear it. 

His attentive smile made your stomach flip when he pulled you close and spun you around to face the mirror. “If they saw your smile, they would understand what a lovely person you are. And see how I can’t resist you when you’re in a dress like this.”

Oh dear. Maybe some other time. 

“Well,” You kept that mask on and pulled away from him. “Should we get going then? Don’t want to be late.”

“Of course.” 

Kento drove straight to the restaurant, quite an upscale place for no occasion. Maybe there was? Perhaps Kento had something planned that you were unaware of, something spontaneous or quite the opposite. A planned surprise? It was practically the night of your five month month anniversary after all, two hundred wonderful days spent seeing each other and having astronomical sex. 

You didn’t get your hopes up and held your breath when he climbed out of the car and opened the door for you. So special. So dedicated to your comfort with the slightest touch from his fingers on the small of your back. Adrenaline made everything ten times more acute, aware of everything and anything you walked by and as you seated yourself at the table facing Kento, your heart beat so fast. Five months was a long time when you had waited longer to be with him.

You were basically in a relationship with him for well over a year by now it seemed, surely that was long enough to hear those three words?

“Can I get you any drinks?” The waitress grinned at Kento and then at you.

Why him first? He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, but what right did this bitch have setting eyes on him? You ignored the irritation and blinked it away for now, letting Kento speak for you and took a moment to observe the room.

White hair.

A flash of it and you would have missed it had you turned away to scowl at the waitress again. White hair like you were imagining it.

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Kento slid his hand forward and offered it to you. “You seem distant.”

“I’m fine.” You were not, but took his hand anyway. “It’s a little chilly in here, don’t you think?”

“I’ll ask them to turn the heat up, will that be alright?” 

He’s so considerate. “That would be great, thank you.”

You played it off and ignored the itch on the back of your neck, being watched did not agree with you. Kento sat still and his head tilted to the side a little, studying you again whilst his free hand rummaged into his suit pocket.

“I have something for you.” He pulled out a little box. “I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I wanted to get you something I hope you’ll like. If it’s too early, please let me know.”

A box. A small little box. It was light in your hand, velvet to the touch and firm enough that it must have come from those places that sold rings for stupid money. One little box, something so small which held your heart right in Kento’s pocket.

Is he proposing? Please tell me he’s proposing. It means he loves me, right? 

“Ken… What-” A pair of earrings.

“I know you lost one from the pair you always said you wore, so I wanted to get you a new pair. I hope it’s appropriate.”

You forbid yourself to be disappointed, because it wasn’t about the hope that a ring sat nestled perfectly in this box. You put up your mask and smiled sweetly enough to satisfy him. “It is. Thank you so much, I love them!”

He’ll propose some day. 

“Here are your drinks.” 

The waitress took Kento’s drink off first and placed it right in front of him. Then she placed yours down off to the side. She was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. The steak knife on the table looked pretty good to shove straight in her neck- 

She cleared her throat and placed the tray under her arm. “I’ll be back in a moment to see what you'd like to order.”

“Thank you.” Kento paid no mind to it and took a sip of his wine. “This is a nice vintage, I think we should go to one of those wine tasting evenings. It’s a good place to get to know each other more.”

You did not need to know Kento more. You knew practically everything about him in the four months he stepped into your life physically. 

He liked to drink, hence the wine tasting suggestion. Kento also enjoyed cooking, especially as he lived alone in his apartment, but he also enjoyed dishing up delicacies in your own kitchen. His birthday was July third and he had a particular interest in the arts, like music and theatre. A man of many tastes. 

“Hello there, can I get you something to eat?” A voice of a man you did not recognise came into ear shot.

“I think we might need a minute. Our waitress is taking our order.”

White hair.

You looked up and saw white hair, only this time it did not disappear. The white hair had a face, a blue eyed porcelain complexion with a smooth grin. The man stood taller than Kento dressed in a suit and staff ID.

“I’m sorry, she suddenly became unwell and had to go home. I’ll be taking your order tonight.” He smiled again and made eye contact with you. “My name is Satoru Gojo and I will do everything I can to make sure your night is perfect.”

Gojo. His gaze over you was the exact same distinct feeling of being preyed on. His cutting glare just behind the loose strands of hair over his forehead that looked softer than a cloud. You didn’t know what to make of this, but at least that waitress was gone. You really thought you were going to have to do something about her.

“Alright then. I’ll be back momentarily.”

“Ken, I’m just going to use the restroom, if he comes back before then, can you order me…” You took a brief glance at the menu and chose anything you first landed your eyes on. Gojo wandered off towards the opposite end of the restaurant, somewhere not where the kitchen was. “The steak? I’ll have it however it’s recommended.”

“Alright.”

You took off and made your way over towards the restroom, noting that he had disappeared. Crap. You wanted answers to why it seemed like that man was following you, stalking Kento for no apparent reason.

Would you need to do something about this guy? He was taller than you realised, so he must have been stronger too. You were not super strong by a long stretch, but when pushed enough to the limit, it drove you to do things you thought your body was not capable of.

Just look at the last waitress that brought the wrong drink and almost spilt it all over him just last week. So much blood and she was still wailing after you shoved your stiletto heel in her face.

People never learn. 

By the time you reached the restroom, the stalls were all empty besides one. The long wall length mirror outlined them all like little match boxes opened after use, showing the amber light inside for an ambient glow.

“How did I know that I’d find you in here, hm?” Gojo’s voice echoed throughout the restroom.

It startled you enough to move towards the door and lock it, backing away from the closed door and sitting your back flush with the slate grey tiles adjacent to it.

The toilet stall opened and he came out much less cheerful than he was outside, hands tight in his trouser pockets. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Who are you?”

“It’s funny, no one else ever seems to notice me when I don't want them to. But your instincts are hot on it every time, aren’t they?”

“Tell me who you are.” 

This wasn’t a show of weakness or a moment that revealed your vulnerabilities. When you glared back in his eyes, it was Kento you thought of. If this man was here to hurt him, well, you’d fucking kill him. Out in the back alley, no witnesses and back in time for your steak and boyfriend you’d do anything for. To kill for three times over already. Yes, you’d do it if the opportunity called for it.

“Y’know, I was so ready to come and kick the shit out of that guy when I saw that little box he gave you, but I see right through that little charade you got goin’ on. I've been watching' you a while now.” By now, he’d taken precisely four steps towards you, taking the opportunity to lean against the row of inbuilt sinks. “You’re exactly like me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to stop stalking me and my boyfriend. I’ll call the police.”

Gojo’s laugh made your stomach lurch. This guy was a whole new level of crazy you had never seen before. “That’s cute. You’re cute. But no, I’m not stalking him, just you.”

“Then stop doing that.”

“Why, aren’t you scared that I might do what I just said I was goin’ to do? He looks strong but when he has his hands all over you, it sorta drives me crazy.”

Gojo would not make it past the restroom door if he intended on hurting Kento. Yet, why did you contemplate that you’d rather take on the waitress instead of him right now?

Shaking the doubts away, you imagined the scenarios that may occur should you get hold of another steak knife or any other sharp object really. One of the heavy statues in the foyer could prove adequate to crush his head or even one of those little blow torches for creme brûlée right to his face.

For now, your mask dropped, and for a time you could breathe a little. Pretending to be happy all the time was difficult work and holding back on punching anyone who gave eyes at Kento took practice and great restraint. “If you go near him at all, I’ll kill you. I won’t just kill you though, it’ll be worse than torture.”

Gojo stepped closer to you and looked down as though you were a child to be patronised. “That’s my girl. Now, why don’t you introduce me to your little boyfriend so we can make this more official, huh?”

He’d backed you into a corner, right up against the wall. “I meant what I said. Don’t come near us.”

“And I know you have the same urges as me, you think no one sees, but I do. I see you. You won’t have to pretend around me. I’ll even do all your dirty work, that’s what I enjoy most.” He placed his palm on the wall beside your head, leaning in so his mouth was right next to your ear. 

“Lets get this fucked up little love triangle kickin’ hm?

[mal3nko]

Cut Content from Double Exposure

So I mentioned a few days ago that my friend on Discord had dug through the files of DE and found quite a bit of interesting cut content from the game, so I decided to share some of it here since I feel like a lot of it is too interesting to not reveal to a wider demographic.

It’s pretty clear that Double Exposure had a very troubled development due to the fact that Deck Nine had to suffer through three rounds of layoffs (where it ended up losing both its lead writer AND narrative director almost a year and a half before the game actually released) which led to a lot of things being cut for time/budget. The game went through an absurd amount of directional changes in regard to its story, which is why the final game is…the way that it is, unfortunately.

So here I’ll be trying my best today to breakdown a lot of the interesting cut content me and my friend have managed to find, which also includes some pages from the official artbook that my friend managed to gather as well!

Max has a fully modeled bathroom…that we never see!

Fully modeled work/hobby room in Max’s house that we also never see (this was apparently suppose to show up in Chapter 4, as the screens are turned on)

There were originally two variations of the post-credit scene, endings A and B. Ending B is the one we have in the final game where Safi finds Diamond, but ending A would have depicted Reggie finding an unconscious Diamond who had collapsed while her nose bleeds, before she eventually gets up and runs off. Here is the dialogue from the files transcribed:

The chase scene with Safi at the end of Chapter 3 was heavily nerfed in the final game, as you would have originally chased her through the now cut hedge maze section, and it would have eventually led you to the abandoned Hellerton mansion (which also got cut, but more on that later)

Speaking of the scene with Safi at the end of chapter 3, we also found out that instead of her being shapeshifted as Max like she is in the final game, she would have instead been shapeshifted as whoever you didn’t romance in chapter 3. Basically, if you romanced Amanda, you would find Safi had broken into Max’s home shapeshifted as Vinh, and if you romanced Vinh, Safi would be found shapeshifted as Amanda. If you didn’t romance anyone (and I’m assuming if you romanced both?) then it would default to Safi being shapeshifted as Max like in the final game.

Scott Wilthe (free lance concept artist who works for Deck Nine) even posted the concept art of Safi shapeshifted as Amanda falling through the ice lake on his Twitter/X account a little while ago! https://x.com/swillhite100/status/1866881491277582518?s=61

(Looks like this Max romanced Vinh 🤭)

Me and my friend believe this was cut due to budget restraints as they wanted Amanda and Vinh’s actors to play their shapeshifted roles, but ended up just settling on Safi showing up as Max in the final game when that fell through.

My friend managed to find a lot of interesting discoveries from the official artbook, which showcase even more interesting changes to the story.

Max being confronted by a man wearing the Krampus mask.

Yeah, apparently there was going to be some sort of “Krampus killer” storyline at some point, and my friend personally believes that the killer was originally Vinh (😭). This is because there is concept art somewhere out there of the Krampus mask and its various designs labeled "vinhkrampusmasks”. I haven’t personally seen this concept art yet (my friend has seen more of the artbook than I have) so take this with a grain of salt I guess.

Now time for some of the different variations of the Caledon layout that constantly changed during development!

This is from the artbook, and note how there is no observatory in this version (it’s very hard to see so I apologize). The final game would never even work out on this map.

Caledon v9. Closer to final, but still with differences. See the old mansion on the left? That would have been the abandoned Hellerton mansion I mentioned previously. Remember the bridge you see at the end of Chapter 3 when you’re chasing Safi? That was where the mansion would have originally been.

Oh hey, it’s the cut hedge maze! (it was added relatively late, and removed just as quickly, most likely due to the constant changes in the development team).

There’s actually a lot more cut content to go over, but unfortunately tumblr has an image limit and I’m getting kinda tired writing all of this out so I think I’ll make a follow up post eventually going over the rest.

Hope whoever read all this found some of it interesting!

[felassan]

hi! first of all, love your blog, everything is so organized and there's so much info out there about everything and you having this blog makes it easier to find.

so there's something that idk if i saw on this blog or if i made up in my head and maybe you could help? I remember seeing something somewhere about how the devs or at least david gaider didn't understand why so many sided with the mages. do you know anything about that or did I made that up completely in my head?

hello! ◕‿◕ tysm for the nice comment about my blog. I'm happy that it can be helpful!!

rest of post under cut for length.

if you think you may have read it here, could you be thinking of one or some of these quotes from [this] post series? those posts are some notes I made of things which David Gaider said (pls keep that context in mind when reading the below) during some Twitch streams some years ago. as far as I know the original streamed videos are no longer available.

"The experience of a mage in the world isn’t represented or conveyed very well to the player when the player is a mage. The experience of the player when they’re playing a mage or have a mage in their party doesn’t really match up with how the world lore tells them how dangerous mages can be - for example, how they can lose control and so on, we never really have an example of a PC mage struggling with being taken over by a demon. This was originally supposed to be a subplot in DA2 for mage Hawkes, in one of the last cuts. In Act 2, mage Hawke was originally slowly being tricked by a demon in their head that they thought was real, only to realize at the last minute. Mouse the Pride demon in the mage Origin is the only time in the entire series that they really ever properly demonstrated how demons can fuck with [PC] mages. Also, PC templars were originally supposed to have a permanent lyrium addiction that they needed to ‘feed’, but this was scrapped as the system designers weren’t keen on it and felt that it was essentially handicapping the player."

"They managed to keep the Tranquil in. There was a while there where they were going to be cut. At the same time, DG regrets that they couldn’t solve the making of the player more aware of how mages are dangerous, thing. Players could make a cogent argument like “they’re not that dangerous, look at me [mage PC]” and the writers were like “well… yeah, that is fair”. It was a case of showing one thing and the player experience of it being another. DG feels that this made the templars come off worse than they are. DG feels that they are being massively unfair and too extreme in their approach to the problem, but the problem itself is a real thing. He feels that there’s some merit/truth in the argument that mages are oppressed, but he looks at it more like an issue like gun control rather than as treatment of oppressed people, saying that we don’t have an example in real life of oppressed people who can explode into demons and cast fireballs and so on."

"Going into DA2, the team had a long discussion of the themes of the game, the whole ‘security versus freedom’ argument. “Let’s try to understand the motivations of people who do things wrong. Is it possible to feel sympathy for somebody who might otherwise be labelled a terrorist? Is it possible to understand why templars might view the mages with fear?” As a whole, DA tries to encompass villains that have motives we can understand a little better. DG feels that Corypheus isn’t one of these. He’s less a villain and more an antagonist or plot device. There are certain things that they did wrong with the implementation of Cory in the game. Originally in DAI he attacked Skyhold as well as Haven. Cutting the Skyhold attack for example made him seem like less of a threat."

"There are certain spells/abilities in D&D that can make a GM’s life frustrating, such as teleportation, telling the future, resurrection. The fact that death is not permanent, for instance, should be a huge thing that affects society and how the people in it view death. This is why they were thinking stuff like “If every low-level mage in the setting had a skill like ‘Charm Person’, what would non-mages make of that?”"

or maybe something from [here], or an [old post] [random example] David Gaider made on the original official BioWare Forum? 🤔 [the forum was archived by fans on Fextralife] or could you be thinking of something that he said on his old Tumblr? [this] and [this] are links to some Tumblr blogs which archived some of the original Tumblr. it might be worth browsing through those/searching them for "mages" and suchlike in case it turns anything up. :>

apologies if nothing here is pinging as familiar. :<

[crescenthistory]

Hi sweetest angel❤️it's me again although I already asked for the interpret of your 2k event and I LOVED SO MUCH❗️❗️...maybe can I ask for an Argue too? 🥺

I was going through your event and when I saw the List B and my eyes landed on the prompt 4 Coffee Shop AU I instantly thought of Regulus🤷‍♀️How could anyone blame me?? I love everything you write and if is for Regulus I'm down bad🤭

Anyway congratulations once again my angel❤️You deserve and I'm sure you'll achieve even more cause you just write works of art❗️❗️ I love you so much big hugs❤️

you could probably ask me for anything and i'd give it to ya di — regulus coffee shop au coming right up <33 a bit of a unique take on it, but still

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 4 "coffee shop au" with regulus black

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: fem!reader, non-compliant wizarding war, (implied) exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, making up post-war, open ending

wc: 1.1k

If you had told Regulus Black five years ago that he would be working in a muggle coffee shop on the outskirts of Edinburgh, he would have scoffed in your face.

Had you told him ten years ago, he might have burst into tears.

Today, though, all he felt about it was a monotone neutrality about this new reality of his, in addition to a little ache in his heels from standing upright eight hours a day five days a week.

A nagging voice in the back of his head kept murmuring about how that pain is the least of what he can shoulder, but he tried to push it away – not out of disagreement, but exhaustion. Carrying guilt tires out your bones and Regulus must admit his had already been weary. After the stunt him and his friends pulled with the horcruxes, they were lucky to be alive in the first place. Not to mention to be free, at least as far as the Ministry was concerned.

Though for the time being, his elusive group of reformed purebloods turned war heroes were scattered all over the country as top notch aurors – regretfully including his brother and his brother's friends – hunted down the last of the loyalists. Barty and Evan refused to be separated and were somewhere near Bath, a choice they made during their very last night together when the friends all got wine drunk and reminisced about their various heists over the past few months. Their sole reasoning was that Bath was a "funny sounding name" and "Bath sounds like Barty trying to say his name after getting his teeth kicked in". Pandora was supposed to be in Wales, but Regulus had a sneaking suspicion she had snuck off to France instead to be with Xeno. Dorcas had simply been unable to separate from Marlene after the war, so the two were happily engaged and hiding in one of the many Potter properties.

Moody – who Regulus still refused to admit he was intimidated by – had stressed that it's not hiding, it's just waiting the storm out.

In his apron and with his hair pulled up with a small silver claw clip, Regulus surely felt as though he was hiding.

The long queue of customers felt like it was only growing, all the 9-5 employees from the various office buildings around his coffee shop relying solely on Regulus for their morning fix before their first meetings. He was mixing and pouring and adding and shaking all the while the minutes ticked away. 

Regulus never let his mind drift when he worked like this. Instead he kept it in check between focusing on the tasks and tuning out all the noise. If he started thinking, he might begin wishing and once he began wishing he would never stop.

More than anything, if he began wishing, a longing would fester itself in his chest, a longing he managed to quelch during his horcrux heists and thus had no business reasserting itself in his life. A longing for a certain witch he managed to not be able to say goodbye to twice – once before embarking on the months-long endeavour and now before running off to wait the storm out.

This last time, he might have been able to say goodbye first. Before the horcruxes it was too dangerous, but now… now he could have waited. If he had tried, Regulus was certain he would have been able to.

Yet, here he was. Without a goodbye and with a pocketful of regret and cowardice. 

He shook his head, cursing beneath his breath as a few strands of his hair fell in his face at the movement, as he tried to get the thoughts out of his head. Focus on the work, he kept telling himself. Turn it all off. He used to be so good at it, but apparently having a “redemption arc” as Barty kept cheerfully calling it, had made compartmentalisation a bit tougher. 

Regulus never half-assed anything, not even a temporary barista position he had no intended future within, so it saw the queue dwindling fast despite him being the only one on shift today. 

As he neared the last customer of the first rush hour, Regulus had to take a quick break to fix his hair. He shucked off his gloves to put his hair back up, stubborn strands refusing to stay put. While mid-movement, he turned around to the counter, plastering on his most neutral and polite customer-service smile.

“Good morning, what can I get you?”

As his eyes landed on his customer, Regulus’ entire body froze. Arms in the air, polite smile still on his lips. The only part of him that moved was his eyes blinking rapidly as they widened.

“Good morning. I’d like to order an apology or two and then maybe a hug, depending on the flavour.” You matched his customer service tone of voice, but you had him pinned beneath your gaze.

Stood before him, was the very witch he had banished from his train of thought earlier, every day, that still somehow managed to sneak on. Except you were very much not a thought as you leaned against the counter, arms crossed defiantly over your chest and an expectant brow raised at him. 

“Amour,” Regulus breathed out. It was a word he hadn’t said aloud since before the war.

“Hi, Regulus.” Your gaze softened and he could see the sadness beneath it. “What are you doing here?”

He let his hair go as his arms fell down to his sides, looking around to ensure there were no more customers waiting. “I could ask you the same question. How did you find me? I’m supposed to be in hiding.”

If you were offended by his questioning in place of greeting, you didn’t let it show, which he was grateful for. There were a hundred thoughts rushing through his head at the minute and the sound of the creamer didn’t make it any easier to sort through them. 

“I had a word or two with Moody.” You shrugged your right shoulder as if it was no big deal. “Explained that he had no business hiding you from the wrath of your girlfriend, only the loyalists.”

Regulus’ lip quivered a little at that word, and you seemed to catch it because your entire demeanour softened this time. “Girlfriend?” he asked quietly.

“Supposedly,” you amended, but you gave him a small smile. “If I could get that apology I ordered. And maybe a coffee to talk it over.”

Regulus’ eyes were wet and his face twitching as he began losing control over it, but he nodded emphatically. “There’s heaps of both apologies and coffee here.” His attempt at lightheartedness. “I would be happy to serve you.”

Your expression matched what he was sure his looked like – pained and hopeful, bittersweet and in love. “Then I think a chat’s long overdue.”

[twistedpink]

Who’s your valentine? @/cafekitsune banner

And the spinner says….

Riddle + happy accidents + opposites attract

There are people that prefer the night life, and there’s morning people. Happy people, sad people, blue people, red people, etc,, Most people would prefer keeping a healthy distance from the olive queendom hq parking lot. In this, you are most people.

“My car! VANDALS!”

Your very own manager stands tensely in the underground lot, grumbling next to a knifed up van- It’s practical, -like something your dad would drool over- and painfully too old for him. (an easy feat, considering he’s the youngest in the office)

You consider turning the other way and walking home.

You can’t. And not because your sense of morality finally got updated-

But if you squint and tilt your head just right, for a second, he looks kinda.. Cute? Lost-cute, tutor/airhaid-cute, pathetic-cute, you get the idea. With Riddle, it hits you even deeper because this vibe is rare.

It might just be the lowlights, or the lack of rbf for once, or the “single on Valentine’s Day” hallmark phenomena, but he’s totally coffeeshop meet-cute material!

He’s staring up at the ceiling like it owes him money when you jog up, and his pupils dilate. hard. You didn’t know he had any emotion besides “angry” and “veiled angry”, but you learn something new everyday!

You don’t need to ask to know his address- it’s been the reluctant cool down spot of many post office party benders, but he appreciates the sentiment when you prompt him for it anyways.

All the hr briefings and team meetings basically leak out of your head the second your brain starts humming with the energy of mm, boy smell,, With the dull ache behind your eyes, and the caffeine shakes hitting you decide that you’ll atleast try to violate policy tonight- It’s been way too long since you’ve had a proper date (Not at the olive queendom or Minigolf, but something romantic!), and with Riddle it’s easy to guess that once you kiss the hell out of this boy, that he’ll insist on it. (Yknow, if you don’t crash your car on the way,,)

“I couldn’t ask to inconvenience one of my employees like this…”

“Good thing you’re not asking! It’d just be rude to let you pay for a two hour flyber, let me do this for you.”

You open up the passenger side of your pickup just to flick the squished fry off his seat, and you delight with how quickly his face turns from nervous first date to saw trap reaction. This is gonna be a long drive, and for once, you’re excited to hang out with a colleague!

“So, anyone special you’ll be seeing tonight?”

“Perish the thought! My work is far more important than some rendezvous,”

.

With all this driving and bickering, it makes you wonder just how he values rules. You hope he lies about his least favourite ones- it’s not like anyone would catch him! Even with your tongue in his moth, he still hasn’t stopped mumbling about queen of hearts-section 5 rule 295.

Allegedly, that rule dictates that the queen must kiss someone before the clock strikes twelve on Valentine’s Day! Being the his most benevolent employee, the car is parked on some backroad (your ears are still ringing from the lecture), some lover’s lane ass music is playing, and you’ve definitely kissed enough to fulfill the conditions.

With your hands cupping his face, and his leg across yours in the back seat, the two of you just can’t stop meeting in the middle,,

“Hah! Wouldn’t this count as ‘indecent exposure’? I’d hate for us to get arrested, queenie.”

“Not in this area. I’d say we’re far enough away from the typical public sectors to be within the law, and- you were kidding? Nevermind! We must follow her majesty’s word to the letter! I’m supposed to wish you a ‘happy Valentine’s Day’ now.”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mere!!”

Hope you guys like the new format better! It’s all thanks to my beta reader @/Echosofmortality <3

[bellobambino]

The Safe House - Part 1

fluff to smut in a future fic

Summary: Unnamed female reader's brother seems to be involved with Luigi's disappearance. Her first person POV.

1,045w

AN: So far this is 3 parts. 4th part will be smut. Part 1 here is set up. please leave a reply, just tell me what you think. i'm looking for some constructive crit if u have time. ill post part 2 in a few days.

The Safe House - Part 1

Gravel crunches outside, the unmistakable pop and shift of tires rolling up the driveway. My stomach twists. No one should be here. There are only a handful of people who even know about this place, and none of them are supposed to be showing up right now.

I glance through the studio window, heart hammering, and my breath catches in my throat.

Ben’s car.

My brother’s car.

Holy fuck.

Ben has been missing for three weeks. No texts, no calls. Not even one of those passive-aggressive thumbs-up emojis he overuses. Nothing. Radio silence.

I abandon my paintbrushes, running to the front door, opening it before he even cuts the engine. The cold air bites, but I don’t care.

The property is big, tucked away in Vermont, the trees stretching high and leafless against the late winter sky. It’s a quiet retreat. Remote and away from everything. That’s why I came here in the first place. To be alone for a few weeks and paint.

He slams the car door, looks up, and we just stare at each other for a second, both of us blinking like we’ve seen a ghost.

“What the fuck?” I say first, because that’s all I’ve got. My voice comes out strangled.

Ben runs a hand through his messy hair and exhales sharply. He looks exhausted, thinner, his jaw sharper than I remember. His hoodie is all lopsided. He should not be here.

“Ben, where the hell have you–?”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, cutting me off like he’s just as surprised to see me.

I throw my hands up. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? This is Uncle Jeff’s place, I’ve been up here for weeks… where have you been? Why haven’t you answered our calls? We’re all worried sick about you!”

He exhales through his nose, glancing past me into the cabin. He looks wired. Restless. He mutters a low, “Fuck,” under his breath.

Then, before I can react, he reaches out, plucks my phone right out of my hand, and turns it off.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” I lunge for my phone, but he steps back, slipping it into his pocket.

“We can’t have any electronics on.”

“Ben.” My voice is sharp now. “Give me my phone.”

“Not right now.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “Just listen to me.”

I fold my arms tight against my chest. “I’m listening.”

“You need to get cool with some things really fast.”

I go still. A prickle of ice works its way up my spine. Oh fuck.

He’s serious. Like, deeply, fundamentally serious in that way Ben only gets when he knows he’s about to say something I’m really not going to like.

I swallow hard. “What things?”

He looks around, then gestures toward the main cabin. “Inside.”

He moves first, which is smart, because my legs feel weirdly detached from the rest of me, like I’m floating rather than actually walking. Inside the loft, I perch on the arm of the couch. He stays standing. Neither of us speaks.

Finally, I break the silence. “Ben. Talk.”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Do you know who Brian Thompson is?”

My stomach drops. “Yeah.”

Ben nods slowly. “So you heard what happened to him.”

The room goes very, very still.

I try to swallow, but my throat feels thick. “Jesus, Ben,” I whisper. “Are you telling me you know something about that?”

He lifts his chin slightly. It’s not an answer, but it is.

I stare at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

“it was me,” he says. “And Luigi.”

I feel like I’m gonna be sick.

Luigi.

Lu, who’s been missing for months. I thought he was dead or had dropped everything and moved overseas. I wasn’t the only one who thought this. We all did. Nobody knew where he was. But now Ben is here telling me they knew where he was this entire time, while we all thought the worst.

Nobody has been able to reach Ben since… well, since the Brian Thompson shooting. Now I know why. 

I’m furious but relieved. “He’s alive.”

Ben exhales. “Yeah. He’s alive.”

I almost laugh. Only because my brain can’t process all this information in real-time. He’s standing there, patiently waiting for me to stop freaking out before he drops the next bomb.

“And he’ll be here tomorrow.”

My stomach lurches. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Lu.” He rubs a hand over his jaw, glancing toward the window like he’s checking for ghosts. “He’ll be here tomorrow. This place is good to lay low for a while.”

Fantastic.

I press my hands against my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. This is happening so fast. One second I’m up here in Vermont, soaking in the beauty of solitude, then my brother shows up out of nowhere, tells me he’s an accomplice to murder, and that tomorrow, Luigi is going to walk through that door like a ghost returning from the grave.

I push off the couch and follow Ben to the door, catching sight of him popping the trunk. He hauls out a silver suitcase, then another. They’re heavy. My stomach twists.

“What is that?” I demand.

Ben doesn’t look at me. “Stuff.”

Stuff. Awesome.

I should say something. I should demand answers. But my brain keeps skipping ahead to the part where tomorrow, Luigi will be here.

Ben and Luigi were practically inseparable in college, both in the same frat, Phi Kappa Psi. They rushed together, partied together, graduated together. And now they’ve done… this together.

The last time I saw Luigi, it was summer. Some birthday party. We had circled each other all night, and when he finally got me alone, he whispered, “Ben is gonna kill me,” and kissed me. Soft, his hands in my hair, tasting of tequila and maybe the start of something new.

Then he fell off the face of the earth. 

Ben slams the trunk shut, looks at me over the roof of the car. “You good?”

I force myself to nod. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t press, just hoists another bag over his shoulder and heads inside.

Luigi will be here tomorrow, and I don’t have a clue what to expect.

[gottencents]

Brown Eyes - Lisa Manoban

pairing. spiderwoman!lisa x girlfriend!reader

synopsis. after a long night of fighting crime, spider-woman Lisa always finds her way back to Y/n, the one person who makes her feel grounded.

The city skyline shimmered under the moonlight as you stood on your apartment balcony, sipping on a warm cup of tea. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier. It was a quiet night—or at least, it had been.

A sudden gust of wind and the soft thwip of webbing alerted you to the presence of none other than your favorite visitor. Before you could react, a familiar red-and-black figure swung gracefully onto your balcony railing, crouching like a cat about to pounce.

“Miss me?” Lisa, or rather, Spider-Woman, grinned beneath her mask, her voice laced with playful confidence.

You rolled your eyes, setting your cup down. “You literally saw me this morning.”

Lisa pulled off her mask, shaking out her slightly tousled hair. “Yeah, but the night makes everything more romantic,” she teased, hopping down onto the balcony floor. “And I wanted to see my favorite person before heading out again.”

You folded your arms, giving her an unimpressed look. “Uh-huh. And this visit has nothing to do with you wanting my leftover cookies?”

Lisa gasped dramatically. “Y/n, how could you accuse me of such betrayal?” She placed a hand over her chest as if deeply wounded, then smirked. “But since you mentioned cookies…”

Laughing, you took her hand and pulled her inside. “Come on, hero. I’ll get you some.”

As you went to the kitchen, Lisa followed closely, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind. “Mmm, you smell nice,” she murmured against your shoulder, swaying slightly with you.

You giggled. “Spider-women aren’t supposed to be this clingy, you know.”

“Says who?” Lisa lifted her head, her lips brushing against your ear. “Maybe I fight crime all day just so I can come home and be your problem instead.”

Your heart fluttered at her words, but you played it cool. “Oh, great. So I’m just your post-patrol cuddle buddy now?”

“Exactly,” Lisa hummed, spinning you around so she could look into your eyes. “And you love it.”

You pretended to think for a moment. “Hmm. I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world…”

Lisa gasped, feigning offense. “Not the worst? Y/n, I risk my life fighting bad guys, swinging from skyscrapers, dodging explosions—and this is the thanks I get?”

You bit your lip to hide your smile, then reached up to cup her face gently. “Thank you for always coming back to me.”

Lisa’s playful expression softened. She leaned into your touch, her brown eyes warm with something deeper. “I always will.”

The moment stretched between you, the city noise fading into the background. Then, Lisa’s gaze flickered to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught. “You better.”

Lisa grinned before closing the distance, her lips capturing yours in a slow, tender kiss. Her hands rested on your waist, holding you close, as if anchoring herself to you.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against yours. “Y’know,” she murmured, “I think I like being tangled up with you.”

You laughed softly, your fingers playing with the hem of her suit. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me now, Spider-Woman.”

Lisa grinned, pulling you back in for another kiss. “Best webbing I’ve ever gotten caught in.”

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

A Jayce Talis x F!Reader NSFW Oneshot

Minors do not interact with this post

****************************************************

A/N: Whatsup!!! I know it’s been thirty years but I return with an offering 🫶 Please leave a comment if you enjoy this, I did my best!

Warnings: Smut, fluffy smut, fun smut, Jayce is bigger than reader, yeahh

“Hey baby,” Jayce greeted, hearing you close the door behind you as you stepped into your shared house.

“Hi,” you mumbled as you set your bag down before walking into the living room where you presumed he would be.

“I ordered pizza for- are you okay?” his brow creased with genuine concern, a little puppy-like look in his golden green eyes.

“Long day,” you said with a little smile. “Can I have a hug?”

“Aw, y/n,” he opened his arms, inviting you to sit on his lap on the couch. A tantalizing invitation indeed. You strode over to him, and then straddled his thighs, falling into his embrace. His strong arms encircled you, enveloping you in warmth and love. You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder, your face against his neck. He drew comforting circles on your back, waiting patiently for you to speak.

“You’re so warm,” you sighed happily, breathing in his woodsy aftershave. However, despite the scent of his aftershave lingering, his five o’clock shadow appeared to already be making a hasty return.

“And you’re so cute,” he said, squeezing you gently. You blushed, kissing the bottom of his jaw.

“Sorry for walking in like that. I had to deal with one too many bitchy people at work today, and it got to me,” you said, sitting back so you could look at him in the eyes.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, baby,” he said understandingly, giving you a soft smile. You lean and kiss him appreciatively, and he immediately returns the kiss with his usual excitement, taking away every thought from your brain.

“Mmm,” you hummed wistfully into the kiss, he distant to pull away. You reluctantly do though, only to ask Jayce a little question. “So, when’s that pizza supposed to get here?”

He raised an eyebrow, playfulness evident in his expression. “Surely in enough time for me to get something done,” he said, innuendo clear in his voice.

“Dontcha mean someone?” you asked, your turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Ugh, just let me have this one,” he grumbled, before maneuvering you so you were on your back with him balancing on his forearms on top of you. His knee immediately made contact with your core. You instinctively ground down on it, searching for some friction.

“Easy, baby,” he grunted, leaning down to kiss down your neck. You felt one of his large hands tugging at the hem of your top, so you stopped him so you could quickly take it and your bra off altogether.

“Eager much?” he laughed.

“Shut up,” you said with embarrassment, your turn to tug on his shirt.

“Never,” he winked, pulling off his shirt to reveal gorgeous, sculpted muscle.

“Jesus, Jayce,” you groaned, giving him the once over as he palmed your breasts.

“You say that every time,” he blushes.

“I can’t help it. I literally get fucked by Hercules reincarnated,” you compliment, trying to make him more flustered. It worked, because he buried his face in the side of your neck and grumbled.

“You make it sound so vulgar,” Jayce said, his voice muffled by his lips pressed against your neck.

“It kinda is the way you get into it,” you pointed out.

“Fair enough,” he came back up to look at you with a sly smile before kissing you rough and giving you the friction you wanted from his knee in one move. You gasp into the kiss as his hand trails your waist band, fingers trailing lower and lower.

“Jayce, please.” All sentient thoughts were beginning to evade you as his fingers got closer and closer to your core, where you were growing wetter by the second. He tugged at your shorts, eager to get what he wanted. You heard a rip sound, and by the look on Jayce’s face realized that he forgot how strong he was and accidentally ripped your shorts. “Jayce!” you found yourself in a fit of giggles, especially taking in his guilty expression.

“I am so sorry,” he said, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s okay, now you can buy me new ones,” you said, your giggles dissolving and then coming back as he looked at you with a pathetic expression.

“I…” he mumbled the rest, opting to make an embarrassed noise instead. He held up the shorts, and on the inside lie the fabric of your underwear.

“Jayce! You ogre!” you started laughing again, unable to believe that he not only literally ripped off your shorts but your underwear too. Only your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his cheeks a deep red.

“Make it up to me,” you smirked.

“That I can do,” he said, the tone of your voice turning him on as much as your idea did you. “What do you want from me, baby?” he said, voice low with lust and eyes dark. It was your turn to blush.

“I want you in me,” you said, not trusting your voice under his steel gaze.

“Let me stretch you out first-“

“No, Jayce. Please,” you pleaded, lust clear in your eyes.

“Okay, okay,” he acquiesced, bunching his boxers and shorts in his hand and pulling them midway down his thighs, exposing his length. Rock hard and thick, it was always the perfect balance of stretch and ease to take him.

He gently rubbed the tip over your folds, smirking at your little whines as he did so.

“You sure about this, y/n?” He asked as he rubbed the tip over your clit.

“Please, Jayce-,” you couldn’t even form a coherent plead, your body far too excited for what was to come.

And then he began to push in. You had never felt him without being warmed up first, and it was fucking heavenly. Shallow thrusts allowed him to slowly make his way deeper and deeper inside of you, setting your nerve endings on fire. You moaned his name, writhing under his soothing touches.

“Easy,” he soothed, cupping your face with his large hand. “How are you feeling?”

“So good,” you said in tones of bliss. He grunted, feeling the way that you clenched around him then, and you could’ve sworn it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard. Eventually he bottomed out, kissing you on the mouth as he did so. Emphasis by on the mouth, as he panted into the kiss, accidentally albeit gently knocking teeth with you. His hand found your pulse point, not squeezing, but gently resting there as you began to get more comfortable with him in you.

He began to test the waters with gentle thrusts, far more gentle than either of you were used to on normal circumstance. However, you could feel every single ridge of him, every single slight movement and twitch, and the feeling transcended bliss.

Eventually you were both waiting for the chance to seek release with fervor, waiting on one or the other to say as much.

“Jayyyyyce,” you singsonged, your voice high and borderline whiny.

“Y/nnnnn,” he mimicked you teasingly, still moving at his slow pace.

“Can you-,” you were abruptly stopped, your voice hitching as he bottomed out and went just a little further, directly hitting your sweet spot.

“Can I what, baby?” his eyes were mischievous.

“Can you-,” he did it again, making you moan. “Jaycee,” you complained.

“Okay, fine,” he surrendered with a snicker.

“Never mind,” you said with a pout.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that- what do you want from me?”

You blushed a deep red, and that’s when he knew. You were trying to ask him to fuck you.

“Want me to fuck you?” he asked, and the eager nod you gave him confirmed his suspicions. “You want it rough, dontcha baby. Wanna forget about that awful day of yours?”

“Yeah,” and you said it so pitifully. So softly, with your eyes wide, and he knew right then he was going to give you exactly what you wanted and more.

He pulled all the way out of you, and then slammed into you. He grunted at the way you moaned his name before setting a hard, fast, pace that had you gasping fractured moans with every thrust. His low grunts and soft whispers of your name accompanied the sounds coming from you, and you just felt so damn good.

Tears were forming at the corners of your eyes from the bliss, so Jayce took initiative to tease you. “Crying already baby? Hasn’t been that long yet, sweet thing.” He knew you loved when he called you sweet thing.

“Ngh, yeah, it’s so good,” you said, your eyes closing at a particularly rough thrust.

“Eyes on me baby,” he said, slightly firming his grip on your neck.

“O-okay,” you agreed, admiring the way that sweat began to form on his upper brow.

His hand drifted tantalizingly slowly from your neck to your puffy yet neglected clit. Once he finally reached it he began to rub tight circles on it, sending you a new wave of bliss. Everything was both too much and not enough, Jayce’s perfect sweet spot.

“Harderrr,” you whimpered pathetically, accompanied by a little sniffle from how good you were already feeling. Jayce adjusted accordingly.

“Like this?” he asked with that gravelly bedroom voice, the one that could tell you to do anything and you would do it.

“Yeah,” you moaned, feeling yourself getting more worked up by the second. You were fighting back literal tears of pleasure by this point, unable to help yourself when he made you feel so damn good. “Jayce- I’m gonna-,” you warn, your voice shaky.

“C’mon sweet thing, make a mess for me,” he commanded, thrusting into you hard enough that you were seeing stars and rubbing your clit fast enough that you couldn’t keep track. Finally you came with a cry of his name, and he came soon after, filling you up with his warm come. He slumped, practically laying his full body weight on you.

“Mmm,” you hummed contentedly, feeling worn out but oh so happy.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah-,” Just then, the doorbell rang.

“Perfect timing,” he laughed, and you laughed with him. Good thing you were feeling hungry, and a better thing that your boyfriend always knew just what you needed.

[racketballz]

Hi I was curious on whether or not you think the rowdy ruff boys love each other?

I know you said it was a codependent relationship between them before. I also think about the way they interact in sbj. Then I thought about the way they interacted with one another in the multiverse game where it has the dialogue of them saying that they like having each other as brothers.

I can remember correctly in sbj more than human brick got upset with buttercup over a statement about butches condition in citiesvill. Sorry if I misspell that part. That got me thinking….Somewhere in his ego twisted heart his prideful heart and world hating heart….he has some form of love for his brothers. Kinda in a way like the girls do.

I know butch in some posts you have said does not care about himself cause that’s just how he is. I remember in sbj he is usually bricks….kinda right hand man in a way:…not sure what to exactly call it but if he listens to anyone ever it’s either brick or buttercup.

Or would you say it’s a relationship based off trauma and fear more and that there isn’t a lot of love if not any at all.

I’ve seen other instagram things where people have said brick would do anything for his brothers.

I find it cute and like to see some form of positive care in sbj more than human when brick shows concern in the brotherly way. Makes me almost forget about all his 🚩.

Also side not anytime you post about brick I get very interested and intrigued cause I’m so confused by him. Love to see he has to deal with the fact that just like humans he too feels embarrassed or feelings for blossom. Or has bad days. When his car got totaled I laughed cause he did deserve it.

So yea….that’s my Ted talk….

I like this question so I will answer it even tho I don’t have the time to like be long winded like I’d like to LMAO

but yes the boys love eachother

No they don’t know how to express themselves and don’t see an issue with it

Uhh yes butch is loyal to brick and buttercup he is in a tight spot RIP butch

yes they’re learning as they go it doesn’t help they also are attracted to the person they’re supposed to kill

I find they show their love in the ways they know eachother so well brick always knows where is brothers are butch talks about his brothers a lot when they’re not in the room same with boomer and boomer often will look to brick for guidance (butch too but I think he often will disobey him to get some rise out of him because he knows that about him as well)

Brick is confusing I think that’s the best part about him he’s built up thick skin but it’s not thick enough so everything hurts him poor guy

I also think the boys are inherently tragic characters when you think of them as anything other than killing machines because they’re bred from a place of hatred

I do not feel bad for them tho do not get it mixed up being angry unhinged and pathetic is hot

[ladysomething]

✄ for wygig please 💞

✄ DVD BONUS: pick a fic and I’ll describe or write a deleted scene!

actually!!! I now have a DOCUMENT with deleted scenes lmaooo.

one of them is absolutely huge, and it was originally supposed to be in the chapter where Max is in Milton Keynes. he runs into a pregnant omega in a restaurant and helps her get back on her feet. it's a really lovely scene, but was ultimately cut bc it added absolutely nothing to the story, HOWEVER I have it set aside because I'm going to repurpose it as a one shot eventually!

but here are parts that I cut from the most recent chapter.

when I originally this part, the necklace gifting and courting discussion was in like 5 chapters time, and I ultimately cut the below because ... well, there was less time between them getting together and the courting talk, so it no longer made sense.

“Do you think we fight too much?” Charles asks, reaching up to touch the pendant that’s now resting between his pecs. 

“We never fight,” Max says dismissively. 

Charles laughs. “Max, we disagree about everything. Our miscommunication is ridiculous at this point. Every time I think we have it under control, there’s just another thing we have to figure out.” 

Max drops his hands. Charles turns back around, feeling warm and happy despite the conversation he’s brought up. 

“I don’t think it’s a problem,” Max says eventually. “Because I—because we work through them, right?” 

Charles gives him a small smile, finger caressing where the two circles interlock. “Right,” he agrees softly. 

“I love you,” Max murmurs. “More than—more than anything. But there are always going to be things we disagree on. And I’m not keeping secrets purposefully.” 

“You have a couple times,” Charles says. “About what the other alphas in the paddock were saying. About what you were going to do about them.” 

Max purses his lips. “I’m working on it,” he says eventually. “I’ve never had a—a person before. A partner. Someone who would want to know, or who I could trust with it.” 

Charles softens, and reaches out to take Max’s hand in his own. “Me either,” he admits. “But I want this to work, Max. So much.” 

“I do, too,” Max says, squeezing his hand back. “It’s only been a few weeks since we—since the yacht. We’ll figure this out together.” 

this next scene was also part of the chapter, and was literally included until about an hour before I posted the chapter. actually, fun fact, that scene also changed WILDLY at the last minute - all that talk about deciding to properly court and get married and return the claim was added on the day of posting lmaooo. the below is how the scene originally ended (basically max gave the gift, Charles got mad, max tried to take the gifts away, Charles got mad about that too, and then Charles told Max that courting means nothing to him and that he doesn't want to do it, and then they left it at that, and then when Charles went to kiss Max the below conversation happened).

probably I'll end up repurposing that final line from Charles, because it's good and worth saying.

“Just—before we do,” he says, a little nervously. “To be clear, this time. What do you think we are?” 

“You’re my—” He breaks off, unsure what to say. Boyfriend sounds stupid. Partner, maybe. Mate? Except, technically, Charles is his mate, but Max isn’t Charles’. Eventually, he settles on, “You’re my Max. You’re mine.” 

A slow smile creeps up Max’s face. “I am yours,” he swears. “And you’re mine?” 

“I am,” Charles says, a smile blooming wide on his own lips. “Entirely, completely, in every way you can think of.”  

[tj-dragonblade]

[Fluffbruary Fic] Learning From Old Mistakes

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: T Word Count: 1284 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2025, pre-relationship, future fic, a few years post-reunion, we're ignoring comics canon, mild violence

Notes: This could have been fluffier, but. C'est la vie. Possibly could be the same continuity as Mementos, a few years earlier. Maybe I'll come up with a series name and link them later.

Fluffbruary 2025 Prompts: Day 1: dark | defend | wander Day 2 : ocean | jest | patience Day 3 : uncertainty | myth | pause

Summary: Hob and Dream are accosted by a thief on their way home one evening

On AO3

"Hey—!"

Hob pivots abruptly on the pavement, lunges behind Dream, and there is an answering yelp.

Whirling in turn, Dream finds that Hob has caught a would-be thief—an armed one, no less.

"Fuck off!" the thief snarls, swinging at Hob with a small knife and yanking at his captive arm.

"Don't think so," Hob grunts, letting go to catch the fist with the knife in both hands. He twists the weapon up and out, pushing the man back—away from Dream.

David Brown, nineteen years old, Dream ascertains of their assailant. His life has not been kind.

"Leggo! Lemme go!" David is yelling, but Hob is unswayed.

"No, you think you're going to threaten my friend? Oh, you are very much mistaken, kid." Hob's grin is fierce, frightening. They are fifteen minutes or so from Hob's home, still, a relatively quiet part of the city more industrial than not; there is no one around despite the early-evening hour and Hob has backed David into the alley they were passing, pressed him against the wall. "You picked the wrong target."

David is panicking, Dream can see; he had thought them an easy mark—easy to intimidate, easy to rob, and he does not know what to do now that his minimal plan has gone utterly awry. He lashes out, unrestrained fist swinging for Hob's head.

Hob avoids the hit, twists, punches David in the stomach and David goes down, knife falling from his grasp as he tumbles backwards with a cry. Hob is advancing, ready to hit again, but Dream steps in. A breath of his sand and David is out, dropping into a deep slumber sheperded by dreams of peace and plenty.

"That's one way to end it, I suppose," Hob says, tone almost disappointed, his stance relaxing somewhat. He glances back at Dream. "You're alright?"

"What harm do you imagine he might have done me?" Dream lets his amusement color his voice.

"He meant to rob us, Dream."

"I have no pockets to pick, Hob Gadling."

"Yeah, well. Had a knife, didn't he."

"A sizeable blade, certainly, which surely would have wrought terrible injury to one such as I."

Hob rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright, I get it—I need not come to your defense, you're unfathomably beyond human understanding. Just." He glances down at David sleeping on the ground, tugs at his earlobe. "Maybe I think you're worth protecting, is all. Maybe you deserve someone looking out for you just in case your phenomenal cosmic powers get thwarted."

Dream has not forgotten the first time Hob leapt to his defense, with a ready teacup and fists primed to follow; he had been amused then as well, but this time—

Maybe I think you're worth protecting.

Such words are unexpected, and sit warm in Dream's chest.

He will examine this feeling later.

"Damned hoodlums always looking for an easy mark," Hob is muttering, still looking down at David, kicking lightly at one foot.

"He is homeless, and hungry," Dream offers, "and short on choices."

Hob's face goes through several different expressions in the span of a heartbeat, falling into something like resignation. "Ah, hell." He steps back, sighs deeply. "There's better options than this, kid, c'mon." He takes out his wallet, pulls out a card with the New Inn's logo emblazoned across it. "Dream, can you let him wake?"

"Of course." It is barely a thought to draw David's consciousness back up from his realm.

David blinks awake, startles to find Hob crouched beside him.

"Peace, kid," Hob says, before David can speak. "Not interested in hurting you or pressing charges or anything. Here." He offers the card. "Go to this address. Show the barkeep this card. They'll get you a good meal, no charge. If you need a place to stay, they can put you up. If you're interested in finding work, they can help you out. If you need to get clean they can connect you with the right resources."

"…what?" David is blinking, flummoxed, wary.

"Go to the New Inn," Hob says patiently, indicating the card again. "Show this to the barkeep. They can get you a meal and a room for the night. Can help with finding work and getting clean, if needed. My cousin owns the place and the staff are very hands-on with community involvement and stepping up when people need help. I'll put you in a cab, if you like, or you can walk there in about an hour." He waggles the card.

"…Was set to rob you," David says, then, reaching for the card uncertainly, pausing, pulling his hand back halfway. "Why…why would you—?"

"I've been there," Hob says, matter-of-fact. "I remember starving in the streets. I've hurt people for my own survival. A kind hand made a difference to me more than once. Maybe the Inn can be a kind hand for you. At the very least you can get a good meal."

Tentatively, David takes the card.

Hob calls a cab, pays the driver and sends David on his way to the New Inn, which Hob had sold to his 'cousin' two years ago, effectively leaving it in the hands of the loyal long-term staff he'd gathered over the decades he'd called it home. David is wary and tired, jaded, ready for disappointment, but there is a glimmer of hope within the boy all the same.

"Shall we?" Hob asks, offering his arm once David's cab has driven off; a gallant gesture, accompanied by a broad and charming smile, and that warmth in Dream's chest stirs. I think you're worth protecting. He recalls the way Hob had smiled at him after dispatching Constantine's minions, notes how the smile he wears now is softer around the edges but much the same.

"Of course," Dream says, curling his hand into the crook of Hob's elbow, and the warmth in his chest unfurls a little more.

~

Hob can't help the way his smile grows as Dream actually accepts his offered arm. He'll say nothing of it, of course; it wouldn't do to spook him. 1889 was enough to drive that lesson home and he has tempered his approach since then.

He can be a patient man, after all. He has had a lot of practice. He'd waited for Dream after 1989 and been richly rewarded for that faith thirty-odd years later. He's allowed to call Dream 'friend' with all sincerity, now, and with meetings far more frequent than once a century, the last decade or so has been absolutely enlightening. He's learned Dream's name, finally, six hundred years or so into their acquaintance. He's been trusted with the truth of Dream's absence from their last centennial meeting. He's been trusted with some measure of explanation as to Dream's function in the universe, and he even understands some of it. He knows that Dream likes his tea with four spoonfuls of sugar, a splash of milk, and a story when possible. He knows Dream better than he'd ever dared to hope he might by now, lending depth and weight to his easy claim of friendship and honestly? Hob thinks he might be starting to feel a little more than friendship, perhaps, but he's definitely not going to examine that possibility any time soon. What he's got right now is more than enough, is cherished and hard-won, and he has the patience to let it grow as it will for as long as it must.

He places his hand over Dream's tucked into his elbow, delighted to have his old-fashioned offering accepted, to be allowed the touch, to be gifted with Dream's small smile in return; together they stroll on through the evening toward his home.

= Started: 1/31/25 Drafted: 2/2/25 Posted: 2/3/25

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 16

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slow burn

cw ; reader spiraling a little bit, typical violence, very brief mentions of pain and blood

notes ; guys. so uhm. i don’t know what the fuck happened

while i never planned to stop writing frostbite entirely, i was sure that it would still take a while for me to actually *want* to continue it, as i’ve been endlessly burnt out from college and in a little bit of an artistic block (not to mention falling quite a bit out of genshin after natlan came out, but who’s surprised)

like i shit you not, i might genuinely have been possessed last night because i just opened my draft for the latest chapter (that got started in fucking SEPTEMBER of last year btw) and just. started writing. unfortunately that doesn’t mean i’ll start posting regularly again, i might never put out chapters as quickly as i did when i started frostbite but just know that i HAVE NOT GIVEN UP ON THIS!!!!!!! GENSHIN IS TEMPORARY BUT TARTAGLIA IS FOREVER!!!!! HUZZAH!!!!!!!!!!

(oh yeah and there’s a lot of wriothesley shenanigannery in this one. yeah this is heading where you think it is, sorry guys)

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he’s so close, you can almost feel his gloved hand held within your own.

it’s as though you’re children playing chase again, only this time you follow his glaring red scarf and his fiery head of hair through the rusted hallways of an underwater prison, rather than the snow covered field of your childhood.

he specters through the walls of the fortress, disappearing and reappearing far ahead of you just as you’re about to reach him. you call out to him ceaselessly even though it proves futile— either he’s ignoring you or entranced by something else. finally, his pace comes to a halt as he turns to a hallway overgrown with moss. a cool breeze wafts in from the hallway and as you step further in, finding that the hallway ends in a pool of glowing water. primordial seawater.

even though you’re fully aware that neither you nor him would be affected by the primordial waters, a bad feeling settles in your stomach and you rush to stop him. your pleas continue to fall on deaf ears— he steps closer and closer, until his boots touch the mouth of the pool.

you’re so close… so close that you decide to leap to close in the distance between the two of you. he’s at the tip of your fingers… and then—!

fucking ouch.

you land on the cold, unforgiving metal ground of your room with a harsh slam. gods, what are you, five years old? falling off the bed because of a dream?

certainly doesn’t help that the scenery you’re rudely woken up to is the sad, grimy bronze walls that only remind you that you’re still in prison for a ridiculous fake crime. suddenly, the situation settles into the rest of your body— as the fatigue and ache bleed into your muscles from all the backbreaking work you did yesterday for the sake pathetic little credit coupons, added onto the pain currently spreading on your side from your fall.

you groan tiredly. back to the grind, you suppose.

a lazy hand reaches out to the table next to your bed to count the amount of coupons you’ve gathered in the last few days. ugh, still not enough to buy the information from that idiot guy, vidoc. you consider your options while trying your best to stretch your muscles— the pain that shoots your limbs is unspeakable.

okay, so no heavy-work today. while that is the best way to earn a bunch of coupons, your body most certainly cannot handle it. if only there were painkillers around the fortress…

wait.

—

“now, keep it compressed with these bandages, ice it whenever you can and- obviously, don’t put too much force on it.” you finish tightening up the gauze on some poor inmate’s sprained wrist as he listens intently. once the gauze is certifiably fastened on his wrist, you take the opportunity to wrap both your hands around the joint and ever so slightly activate your cryo powers in an impromptu measure of icing the sprain.

“got it, thanks, doc.” the man nods appreciatively, hearing the nickname ‘doc’ again leaves you with a long lost warm feeling. for the first in months, you finally feel like you’re back in function— simply tending to others’ medical needs, even if it is just you working temporarily at the fortress of meropide’s infirmary.

sigewinne writes down reports and notes on her clipboard swiftly, having allowed you to cover the incoming patients while she busies herself with paperwork. only for a moment does she look up to watch yet another inmate trot out the infirmary with a satisfied air to them. she throws you a pleasant grin and hops up to proudly slap you on… well, what would sentimentally be your shoulder, but the highest she reaches is your hip.

“good work, y/n! it’s not very often that someone volunteers to work at the infirmary with me, so i’m quite grateful for your help!” the melusine praises.

you chuckle sheepishly as you neatly put away the equipment you just used. “it’s my pleasure, miss sigewinne. this kind of stuff is almost therapeutic for me.”

sigewinne giggles before she looks off thoughtfully— shooting up as she suddenly remembers something. “ah! speaking of therapeutic, i have to find the duke and speak to him about the package of romaritime flowers i-“

heavy footsteps approach the infirmary, ones that seem almost familiar to you, as they quickly reveal to come from the duke himself, as if summoned. you jump slightly once his imposing figure enters the room, moments from your last meeting flashing before your eyes. hoping to remain unseen, you choose to divert your attention to the patient who rests off a fever in the corner of the infirmary and turn your back to the other two, checking the inmate’s temperature.

“wriothesley, perfect timing! i was just on my way to speak to you about the order of supplies i placed.”

“well good morning to you too, sigewinne,” the duke muses. “mm, yes, i’ll have to check with the front desk and see about— …oh! good morning, y/n, didn’t expect to find you working at the infirmary.”

god dammit.

you turn around slowly like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar and throw wriothesley a tight-lipped, awkward smile before returning to your previous task. the duke doesn’t seem to notice your sheepishness as he continues to watch you with a smile.

“well, it is nice to see you in your element.” he comments into the otherwise painfully awkward air of the infirmary. the notion that wriothesley would ever be amused by seeing you do medical work, that he would ever even regard your existence as anything more than another fatuus residing in his prison, leaves a foreign fuzzy sensation across your chest.

“say, would you like to join me this afternoon for another talk?”

the question surprises you entirely, as your last talk hadn’t exactly been the most casual and innocent of talks… you frown towards wriothesley accordingly and he seems to immediately understand your concern.

“don’t worry, you can choose the tea this time.” he jokes, thankfully sigewinne doesn’t seem to think much more about the implications of it.

well, who are you to deny the duke of meropide, so you answer with a simple ‘sure’. the fortress’ head nurse senses the thickness in the air and moves the conversation back to where she had left it off and steps up to the exit of the infirmary.

“well! we should get going to the front desk, those romaritime flowers must be stored properly before they start withering. that is, if they’re even here at all.”

you hear sigewinne’s voice grow quieter and quieter as she leaves and turn back, once more, to your function. though… as you dip a small towel in warm water to put against the feverish inmate’s forehead, you realize only one set of footsteps was heard leaving the infirmary. a sudden warmth creeps up from the back of your neck and settles on your cheeks.

“…wriothesley?” you hear sigewinne call out from far away.

“r-right, yes.”

heavy, thumping footsteps leave the room— from right behind you. why is your heart even beating faster? this is nothing.

it’s so absolutely nothing that you entirely forget about it within your dedication to taking care of the infirmary while sigewinne is gone and the hours pass by in a flash. as you send off your latest patient, the emptiness of the infirmary room settles differently. there’s a certain air of uneasiness, a familiar chill in your spine— it instinctively tells you that you’re being watched. shoulders tense, you look around the bend of the large metal pipe that constitutes the hallway, finding no sign of life. the gnawing suspicion in your gut doesn’t leave you still, yet you choose to brush it off and occupy yourself with something else.

“sergeant y/n l/n from the medical division, eh?” a taunting voice calls out from behind you. should’ve listened to your gut.

you turn coldly to face two smug inmates. at first you presume it’s just some regular wingus and dingus who’ve got a particular distaste for fatui and decided to pick on you to fulfill their little uneventful lives rotting away in a prison. and then… you look down to see a familiar symbol in the form of a silver brooch hanging from one of the two’s pocket. and his buddy’s got one too.

oh— oh they’re even more pathetic than you thought.

and therefore not worthy of your time, so you simply roll your eyes with a demeaning scoff and slide past the two goons to make your way out the infirmary. only before you can get away, a painfully firm grip latches onto your elbow and pulls you back.

“woah! not so fast there, we’ve still gotta talk-“

“has nobody taught you to respect your superiors? you called me sergeant, did you not? now act like it.” you spit venomously.

the second fatuus chuckles smugly. “and haven’t you learned that none of that bullshit applies here? we’re all equals in the fortress of meropide.” choosing not to make a comeback, the silence allows for the two to scornfully look you up and down, as if scrutinizing a roach on the floor— you merely roll your eyes away from their gaze. one of them scoffs. the one holding your arm tightens his grip cruelly, forcing an involuntary wince out of you.

“dottore’s little lap dog.. agh s-shit-!“ he sneers, though barely as the last word rolls disdainfully off his tongue, searing rage shoots up your spine and into your trapped arm. it’s like a reflex you don’t control and you find enough strength to twist your arm in his grip and in return, grasping onto his throat tightly.

just like he did before, you continuously tighten your grip mercilessly, as the poor jackass still tries to find the time to react to your movement— choking on the air and desperately trying to suck air back into his throat.

“don’t you ever, ever, even fucking think of calling me that again, you-“ you snarl rabidly, as ice uncontrollably emanates from your hand and spreads onto the fatuus’ skin with a cruel hiss. he immediately tries recoil away from you, pained gasp struggling to leave his throat. as if feeling the icy sting yourself, you recoil away from him, finally awaking from your sudden fit of anger.

you look down at your own hand— it looks foreign to you, like a hand that would hurt some, while douchey, blameless fool isn’t a hand that would belong to you. cryo energy still buzzes under your skin and leaves the muscles in your palm slightly spasming. turning back up toward the two fatui, they look at you incredulously, sneering at you like you’re a rabid animal that briefly lost control.

you feel utterly suffocated.

vision spotting and ears ringing, your feet take you far from the infirmary hallway before you even realize. when you feel like you’ve composed yourself enough, you look around to realize you’ve ended up at the administrative center of the fortress— it’s barren of people and deafeningly silent, sparing the ever-present hum of machinery that emanates dully from every corner of this prison, likely due to the fact that most inmates had already gone back to their quarters to rest at this time of day. you merely stand there, taking in the sheer emptiness of the floor and letting the sound of your own heartbeat thrum inside your ears without a certain course of action.

your eyes wander around aimlessly and eventually, land on the elevator that leads down to the pankration ring. you’d never given the ring much thought, as it seemed like nothing you’d ever want to engage in simply by your nature. but then again… choking someone with your bare hand wasn’t something of your nature, but you still did it. perhaps a more, let’s say, active way to cool your nerves doesn’t sound so bad after all. you didn’t even realize you had nerves to tend to in the first place, but it’s not like being in prison is a fucking cake walk.

you space out as the elevator starts descending to the pankration ring, mind filling with plans of what else you had or could do in the fortress tomorrow to investigate childe’s disappearance. you think of places to go and people to talk to as you absentmindedly step off the elevator and into the ring— barely paying attention to the obscenely obvious other presence inside. a particularly heavy thud, like a hard punch, is what snaps back to reality and your chest seems to stutter, stunned at the sight.

it’s him.

wriothesley, the duke of meropide, throwing the most ruthless of hits against the poor, beaten-down dummy inside the boxing ring at the center of the room. he moves and swings like a professional boxer, body fully and utterly committed to the practice— so much so that he doesn’t even notice you, facial expression intense and focused.

his back is slightly faced toward you and it’s only then that you realize that he’s fucking shirtless. rippling, shifting muscles compose his back, decorated with various scars and twinkling beads of sweat. you’re ashamed to admit that you find yourself entranced by the sight. and so you won’t admit it. before you allow your jaw to drop too low at what’s before you, you shake your shoulders as if to brush away your fluster— the fluttering sound of your clothes is impossibly quiet… yet the duke seems to hear it from where he stands inside the ring and pauses his task abruptly.

he turns around and the way he shifts is almost in slow motion. wriothesley prepares a hardened face to show to whoever has dared to interrupt his private training session but the moment it actually lands on your figure, his entire body seems to soften in its resolve. you hate that the relaxation of his muscles is heavily accentuated and highlighted by the light that hangs over the boxing ring.

“y/n! …i must say, i really did not expect to find you here.” wriothesley chuckles breathlessly, eyes twinkling with pleased surprise.

you despise how heavily he pants from exhaustion and how you can’t seem to stop watching him do so. it’s a miracle that your scattered mind actually remembers that you had agreed to meet him for tea, which as seen by the late hours of night, did not happen. what is wrong with you today?

you choke on nothing and clear your throat to mask your lack of composure. “ah-! y-yes uhm… to be honest, i never expected to ever want to come to the pankration ring either but-“

the image of the terrified fatuus shivering beneath your hand flashes punishingly bright behind your eyes.

“-but i guess i might as well try it out while i’m here.” your smile is forced.

regardless of whether or not wriothesley notices that, he flashes you a warm smile and extends a welcoming hand. you reluctantly step up the stairs and inside the ring, feeling immediately out of element. you idiot, why did you even agree to this? why did you even think it was a good idea before coming down here? yes, you know how to fight in combat but you’re not… a fighter.

you fight if you must but you don’t resort to violence arbitrarily… at least, you didn’t. the duke, as if sensing your turmoil, puts a well-timed comforting hand on your tense shoulder as his other one encouragingly holds out a roll of hand wrap.

“hey, even if this isn’t usually your cup of tea,” he jests, obviously not taking your ‘ditch’ to his invite to heart— you still feel guilty about it. “you should still try to relieve whatever tension you have. and it seems like you’ve got enough tension to bring you all the way down here.”

he’s so… friendly. you don’t even know what you’ve done to deserve such lighthearted familiarity from someone like the literal warden of the prison you’re locked in. even as you struggle to wrap the hand wraps properly, wriothesley offers to help without a thought. like he’s known you for years— like it’s no problem that he’s still fucking shirtless in front of you. you feel dizzy.

the duke doesn’t even ask if you know how to fight or not, your unspoken sergeant title answers his unspoken question. he merely watches as you swing experimentally at the dummy, pausing periodically to allow your knuckles to throb and hum silently with each strike against the tough, worn surface of the dummy. eventually, you pause less often, you hit faster and harder, you stop thinking about your next swing. subconsciously, your face adopt the same intense expression you’d seen wriothesley wear when you arrived and your teeth grit with animalistic instinct.

it’s nearly an out-of-body experience, you barely realize what you’re doing and just relish in the way the strain in your arms and the sting in your knuckles turns into an electric rush. you don’t even focus on why you were stressed in the first place— the fact that you’re in prison, the workload, the investigation, the two fatui stooges you encountered today, childe’s disappearance… even wriothesley seems to disappear from view despite being palpably present and shamelessly intrigued by your commitment. you might even allow yourself to admit that you’re enjoying this, that you maybe just a little bit understand why childe loves this so fervently. now that you think about it, you’re 1000% sure that childe spent most of his free time in the prison absolutely demolishing the scoreboard at the pankration ring— you chuckle mentally at that image. unfortunately, that’s all the amusement your brain allows you to have before you’re overcome with anguish as you’re reminded of the fact that childe is still missing. at this point in your life, you’re certain you’ll grow grey hairs at a ridiculously young age from the sheer stress that childe unintentionally brings you.

it seems that you cannot spare even a single breath where you’re not worrying over him. worrying over his whereabouts, his health, his utter lack of self-preservation or limitation, his thirst for battle… his dizzyingly beautiful eyes, his endearing freckles, his breathtaking battle scars, his hearty laughter… his suffocating proximity to you when you were patching up his injuries in the hotel bathro—

“woah, y/n! h-hold on!” wriothesley calls out and suddenly you’re back at the pankration ring, except now the dummy in front of you has brand new fist-shaped bloodstains and your knuckles hurt like fucking hell.

as your chest heaves up and down intensely with desperation to regulate your breathing, your heart hammering like never before, the duke approaches your stunned figure with caution. he gently takes one of your aching hands in his to inspect it, feathery touches over your knuckles. after the train of thought you had gotten into, wriothesley’s gesture leaves the butterflies in your stomach utterly confused and fluttering as if they’re short-circuiting, your brain in the same state.

you might pass out.

within two blinks, your surroundings have warped into a familiar office and a teacup is placed in front of you.

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