#to the point where if I asked for it on a normal day shed make normal rice and give me a handful of almonds and pomegranate

[thepandalion]

ok so like. I get what you mean? and I kinda agree but also in my brain the oil is the reason it's hanukkah food? like if I made latkes in the air frier they would be potato fritters and not Special Holiday Food (TM)

the reason I have this specification though is that I regularly have my mom make me holiday-specific foods outside their designated holidays (specifically. the like. forgot the word in English but yknow the thing you put in soup on passover. thats like made of the passover kosher flour. that. its my comfort food. but my mom makes it out of potato flour instead when passover flour isnt available so its got a Normal version and a Holiday version)

so it might just be a me thing and maybe Im not using the exact qords I want bc. Late. but to me without oil its not for the oil holiday. its just the potato fritters we have on friday nights to snack on until right before dinner the next night and that feels to me like its losing the point of holiday specific foods?

Had someone very seriously suggest to me that you could bake latkes to make them healthier and I was like. absolutely not. the oil is the point. the oil burned for eight days and eight nights and gave us light to see by. it is still possible, against all odds, to live in a time of miracles. the oil is the point.

[aventurineswife]

Two Hands, One Home

Summary: After an abyss attack destroys your home, Kinich, who values independence and self-reliance, offers you a place to stay. Though he presents it as purely practical, his actions reveal a quiet, genuine care. Over time, you settle into a peaceful routine together, finding comfort in his reserved kindness and the small gestures of care he provides, learning that beneath his cold exterior, Kinich has his own way of showing affection.

Tags: @m1nella, Kinich x Reader, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Reserved Kinich, Found Family, Quiet Moments, Pragmatic Romance, Subtle Affection, Soft Kinich.

Warnings: Implied Loss Due To An Abyss Attack, Mild Angst.

The aftermath of the abyss attack was devastating. Your home, once a place of safety and comfort, had been reduced to rubble, its walls shattered and roof torn asunder. The shock of losing everything you had worked for in an instant left you feeling hollow, adrift in a world that had suddenly turned cold and uncertain.

But amid the chaos, there was an unexpected offer. Kinich, with his usual stoic expression, had come to you with a quiet proposal. “You can stay at my place while your house is being repaired.” he said, his tone as dry as ever, yet beneath it was something softer, something genuine.

You were hesitant at first—Kinich was a private person, and you knew his past hadn’t been easy. Still, the practicality of the offer, and the simple fact that you needed somewhere safe to stay, won out. You nodded, grateful but unsure of what to expect.

The day you moved into Kinich’s house, you couldn’t help but be surprised by how… normal it was. The inside was modest, a far cry from the grandeur of the mansions you’d seen in the past. But it had a warmth to it, an unspoken coziness. The walls were lined with handmade furniture, small knick-knacks that spoke of a life lived with care and attention, even if it wasn’t a life of luxury.

Kinich showed you around, his gestures efficient but not unkind. “This is the kitchen,” he said, pointing to a simple stove and a small table. “If you need anything, just ask. And, uh… don’t go near the shed out back. I keep some of my… tools there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tools?”

His lips twitched in what might have been a smile, though it was hard to say. “I’ve got a lot of things to fix. You’ll see.”

You followed him to the living room, where a modest fireplace crackled. The scent of wood and something faintly herbal hung in the air, and Kinich, ever the practical one, was already setting up a small cot by the wall for you.

“Don’t make a fuss about it,” he said as he smoothed out the blanket. “It’s not much, but it’ll do for now.”

You couldn’t help but feel touched. For someone who valued independence so much, Kinich was surprisingly attentive in his own way. You sat down on the cot, still a bit unsure of what to do next.

Kinich cleared his throat and turned toward the kitchen. “I’m making dinner. It’ll be ready in about an hour. You can relax until then.”

As he worked, you took a moment to look around the room. It wasn’t much, but it was his—his space, his home. The absence of his usual sharpness, the subtle kindness of his gestures, made you feel a little less alone. Even if he didn’t show it often, Kinich had a way of making you feel like you mattered.

Dinner was simple, a warm stew that smelled of fresh herbs and hearty vegetables. Kinich placed a bowl in front of you, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of something more than just duty.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said, quietly breaking the silence. “Let me help with something.”

Kinich paused for a moment, his hand still on the pot as he glanced over at you. “It’s fine,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not doing it for you. Just… don’t let the food go to waste.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. Kinich’s words were as blunt as always, but the care in his actions was something you couldn’t overlook. As you sat together at the table, eating in comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but think that, despite everything, you had found a place here—a place where, for the time being, you could heal

Over the next few days, life at Kinich’s house settled into a quiet routine. You’d help with the small tasks around the house—cleaning up, organizing things—and in return, Kinich would share bits and pieces of his life with you, small snippets of knowledge or skills that he’d learned over the years.

One evening, as the sun began to set, you found Kinich in the garden, tending to some plants in the fading light. You hadn’t realized how peaceful the house could feel when it was just the two of you, sharing this simple life together.

“Need help?” you asked, walking over to him.

Kinich glanced up, his face softening slightly. “If you want. I could always use another pair of hands around here.”

You knelt beside him, taking a small gardening trowel and gently digging into the soil. There was a strange comfort in working alongside him, the silence between you both not awkward but companionable, as if you were partners in something greater than just survival.

“Why do you do it?” you asked, looking up at him. “Tending to all this, I mean. I would’ve thought you’d want to leave it all behind.”

Kinich paused, the question catching him off guard. His eyes flickered briefly, almost hesitant, before he answered. “Because it’s mine. It’s the one thing in this world I can rely on. People… they come and go. But this? It’s real. It stays.”

You smiled at his answer, understanding him a little more than you had before. Kinich didn’t offer grand gestures or flowery words, but in the little things—like the way he cared for his home, or the way he offered you a place to stay when you needed it most—you saw his quiet strength.

And, despite his belief in self-sufficiency, you couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, for just a moment, you could be the one thing he’d allow himself to rely on, too.

That night, as you both sat by the fire, Kinich spoke again, his voice quieter than usual.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” he said, not looking directly at you but still offering the words with sincerity.

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude. “Thanks, Kinich. I… I really appreciate it.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “It’s not charity. It’s just… practical.”

But the warmth in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

[shaisuki]

Hiiii, do we ever get an origination or backstory for each darling in your JJK yandere stories? Like how did the yandere got y/n to marry them, did they use blackmail or kidnapping 🩵🩵 I really like your stories.

TALES OF UNREQUITED ROMANCE

♱ featuring gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, geto suguru

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ notes i might write a one shot for each origin. starting from gojo to geto.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ content warnings noncon, babytrapping, villain! nanami, murder, gore, manipulation, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, blackmail, kidnapping, degradation, dark themes. dead dove do not eat.

obsession starts in mysterious ways. unrequited love. forced affections.

GOJO SATORU

a childhood friend to the likes of gojo satoru doesn't bode well in adulthood. now a wife to him. you didn't dream of being a wife. you wanted freedom. away from the hostile environment of the jujutsu society but one can never be gone from the family you grew up with.

your father the clan head of a minor jujutsu family, have ties with the gojo clan and often brought you in clan meetings to learn the way of how the jujutsu society works and then you meet the wielder of the six eyes and infinity. the bearer of the innate technique that is unique to the gojo clan. gojo satoru became your friend in the days of your father's visit. forming an unlikely bond with a sheltered kid like him.

gojo satoru was lonely. you've seen it. the days where you visit is where you only see him smile and you told him there's a vast world outside of the compound in where he lives. the outside world where no one would dictate how he would live his life. servants and maids alike fuss over him. spoiled a kid like him but never allowed to venture the outside world that only he would see is the lark and the walls surrounding him.

satoru once accepted that this is the life he would have for the rest of his days but he was wrong. when he meet you one winter day where the snow came down to earth and there you were covered with snow flurries. staring awkwardly each other before you gathered the courage to speak to him. he likes it. no courtesies or whatever formal shit. you spoke to him normally.

“satoru.” a hushed voice calls out to him and he looks around for where the source of the sound may be coming from. he finds you perched in your brother's shoulders. calling him outside of the wall, enough for you to take a peek. you point at the direction of the deserted part of the compound. “come, no questions asked. we're going outside.” he didn't need to be told twice.

he weren't allowed outside where average humans and curse users alike blend in the crowd wanting his head. his clan forbidden him so but here he are. holding your hand with your brother trailing behind guarding his sister and her friend. gojo looks at the intertwined hands belonging to him and you. your hand is so soft and warm too. it perfectly holds against his own and satoru looks at you and for the first time he might be in love with you.

might is not exact word. he is in love with you deeply but you're not. when you both have grown and his technique was fully awakened, you both drifted apart with the hatred you have for him. he grew but not with emotional maturity that comes with it and you were the subject of his mockery. you were his chubby childhood friend and you didn't shed the weight as you grew older and it attracted satoru's teasing to you until it escalated into something more and you can't take no more of it. you left.

he realized it later years and the clan have come pressuring him into taking a wife to continue the bloodline and the legacy of the clan and he only thought of someone who is perfect for him, you. accepting his proposal and with you being his wife, he would make up for the years for the pain he had caused you.

however life have different plans for him. the proposal was rejected. he met your father asking for your hand but your father refused, saying it's not his place to answer him and it will come from you and that's what he did but you also refused. you won't be tied to a marriage you didn't want and to the person you didn't love. it left a bitter taste to his mouth but he won't give up.

easy it was for him to make you accept his proposal. you loved your family that was your weakness and it took him to accuse your brother of the crimes he didn't commit and exile to your family if proven guilty. you came running back to your family and you asked him what your family did to him to plot such acts against them. you were met with an answer that it was your fault and if you won't accept being betrothed to him, they will suffer.

a wedding took place and after the exchanging of cups, you sealed your fate him much to his pleasure that you will always be bound to him.

“you're beautiful.” he whispers to you. his lips grazing to the shell of your ear. fingers untying the knot in your obi. “i only accepted what you want but that doesn't mean i will love you.” your eyes swelling with tears. “ it's fine you will learn to love me.” pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and your kimono drops to the floor. leaving you bare for his eyes to see. “can we have this for a another night, satoru? I'm not ready.” taking a gulp of air and you shivered from the cold air.

“i've waited long for this, i'm sorry and i won't hold back.” his lips kissing your soft back and you don't think there's a way for you to escape this.

NANAMI KENTO

a sheep in a pack of wolves.

that's how he sees you working in this company and he would say you were too lucky to survive for this long and how did you get here working for this place. this isn't a place for people like you. people here are going to devour you and he's not an exception.

the blood are splattered all over the glass walls. the floor is wet with blood and the pile of corpses increases as a body drops. slicing them with his blade like the body were made of butter. he brings a cloth to wipe his blade clean before putting it to his holster and he was ready to take off then he hears a squeak. nanami removes his glasses upon hearing the noise. he knows it is you before commiting such acts to his coworkers but they're nothing but a soulless flesh to him.

he hears you breathing. staggering as tried to keep it silent and you know what he's really capable of and you have the sense to hide before he wrecked havoc in this company. it was his first massacre and what's better than to slaughter these greedy scums and you're the exception of his punishment.

crawling is all you can do after deciding it was clear for you to get out of the table you were hiding in. cursing yourself earlier after making a sound and you hoped that he didn't hear when he began killing your coworkers and his. you go the warning earlier when a colleague hits the wall after being kicked by him and that was your cue to hide. you didn't nanami that much. reserved and only talks when a conversation is being initiated and you never had much interacted with him before.

turning around to study your surroundings, there was no trace of him except for the dead bodies of your colleagues. bleeding and cold unto the floor with their eyes open and you began to cry softly. thinking how he could do this to everyone and to you. you won't be an exception.

looking at your reflection in one of the glass walls separating you with the others, a scream almost came out from you if it wasn't for the hands clamping to your mouth. it's nanami. staring at you in the reflection of glass and he stops you from screaming but there's no sound you can produce even with his hand covering your mouth and your eyes are the only part of you that screams for help. peering at him with your blurry vision from the tears streaming down your face. “quiet.” he tells you and you nod. not wanting to be killed in a painful death. he let go of your mouth and you cried heavily. you were so tired and the moment your body relaxes, you lost consciousness and the last thing you see is him.

nanami picked your unconscious body before leaving the building and the next day, the killings were on the news with two person missing. you and nanami.

when you woke up the place you were on is soft and realizing you were in a bed. you grabbed your clothing and you were changed in a new set of clothes and then upon looking your surroundings, you see him. sitting in a leather chair dress in his white dress shirt and pair of slacks. reason a book with a glass of wine in his coffee table.

“where am i?” you ask him, confused on why are you still alive and now in a bed with the killer who slaughtered your colleagues with no mercy. “my place.” he answered you. closing the book and standing up to tend you. tentatively touching your cheek and you met his gaze. “why?” you dare ask him and he knows what you meant. “they are scum.” he takes the furrowing of your eyebrows as needing for more answers and why he did spare you. “.... and you're not.”

“can i go home?” his thumb caress the roundness of your cheek. his brown eyes turned cold and then you were doomed when he answered you.

“no. you're going to stay here by my side.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI

you don't pick strays from the street. they will come back and sometimes would abuse you.

your situation with toji was like that. you find him on the verge of death. blood pouring out from his abdomen and bruises littering all over his body when you found him and out of the goodness of your heart, you took him. tended to his wounds until he was healed up and was ready to go wherever he wants and that was your mistake.

you should have left him for dead.

that was close. toji thought when he woke up in a stranger's bed. all patched up and a meal beside him. then a woman appeared, his savior. you weren't his type and he didn't gave you a second look upon greedily shoving the meal you prepared for him and that was it. no thank you and only a grunt. he left the following day and you think that was it? you were wrong.

he came back. and the next and the next.

“you have no business here, toji. there's nothing for you to come back here.” you say it to him. no pause and all sincerity that you're done and he was also done. there was no strings attached and you are strangers. a kindness is all you've given him and he don't need you anymore. end of story but why does he always come back to you.

there was no appeal from you and surely now he would be in another's woman bed. a body of a model with huge assets with their thin legs and a fat wallet for him to take. squeezing them out for his pleasure. one can't resist him. a gigolo he would be now. he always has been. can't stay permanently to one place and moving to another. jumping from woman to woman and surely he could have forgotten you but why would you crossed his mind like you were a bad memory but you weren't. you were good to him. you say you just have took care of him out from kindness and when he comes knocking at your door, you shooed him off. kindness is a treasure one must not give for free and you did it but why won't you let him return the favor. you could have accepted him but you didn't.

fucking bitch. he cursed you every goddamn day that passed. cursing that you should die and leave his thoughts alone for good but what did you do for him to act this way. you're fat and people like you should be kind cause it's the only way you can redeem yourself from being one. yet, he craved you like he yearned for the blood of those who are above him. if you won't accept him, he would make you.

with the blood money he recently received from a anonymous organization, he purchased a penthouse. it cost a leg but it was worth the purchase considering it would be put to a good use. he would use it for you and you will play like a good housewife to him. it was decided from the start that you would be his wife. a place to live in. check. the only one thing that is left is you.

he took you like you rescued him that night. unconscious and waking up in a unfamiliar place. the scar on the corner of his mouth twitches when he smirked at you. panicked and out of breath resisting him but he was quick to place. he knows you won't accept him but he would make. quick to mount you like a stallion to a mare.

gripping the plushness of your body while he fucked his seed inside you. watch as your body jiggles from the impact of his thrust. deaf to your cries and to your pleas. after he dumps his seed deep inside you. you were presented with marriage documents. his signature is already signed and yours is the only left. he says that he's done breeding you and soon a brat will come soon. you needed to be married to him. he won't father a illegitimate child. toji does illegal things but it would be illegal to not marry you.

“come on now, sweetheart. you don't want our child to be a illegitimate one, eh?”

GETO SUGURU

you were just like him. sort of.

ostracized by the monkeys and forced yourself to live in the shadows and that earned you a part of his life. geto suguru runs a cult where he exploits of what he deems as the monkeys of the society. filthy they are as they were dumb.

spewing insults to you for the things they can't see and understand. living in the dark isn't pleasant and geto took you to see the light.

he saved you and you owe him for that and debts must be repaid for what he have done. you get what you have wished for. a place you can call home and a family. the special grade curse user treated you like one and you followed him.

you were perfect. he's a good judge of character. you would be useful to him. a technique and a mind like yours is what he needed for the world he was about to make and you were a maternal figure to his adopted twins. mimiko and nanako always spoke highly of you from how good you were treating them and suguru likes you for that.

you never shared the same ideals as him but he's fine with it. he can't force you on things but with his words that flows like honey coming from his mouth. saccharine sweet that it makes your teeth rotten. completely delusional to his beliefs and how you've survived for long, you adapted to things that would ensure your survival and he made you fall for his words.

that's why it feels natural to you while he disrobe you. how his kisses were far from platonic and not so familiar. stripping you bare while his fingers dip in the plushness of your cunt. hanging to his every words while he molds you to his likeness. a marionette he plays you. pulling you to the strings of what he wants you to do and you get into it. loving every minute of it and you devote yourself to him now.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 11)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught 📍 (this bitch is getting long) Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Horny? Not this story yet but….Don’t worry, just wait a couple days… 👀 💦

Part 11 Caught

Taking time to cast out the line and wait for the big one to take the bait.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, jaws theme plays, fishing, sweet as fuck, and then not sweet, prostitution yelled into a crowd, rough hands, I won’t say the word ‘paddy wagon’ because the history seems to be targeted at the Irish in America so it’s called a wagon here」

Minors if you violate the MDNI I will toss you back into the river lie the pinfish you are 💥 🎣

Peaceful. Your head on his chest. Even breathes, strong heart. Corporeal. Real. There with you. A ritual to whoever brought you into his embrace, every morning you lied against him and you stared out the window. Past the greenhouse, where the woods were allowed to run wild and you knew the animals therein were safe to exist as they were meant to. Everything and everyone in their element.

His fingers would make little circles and pattern eights along your shoulder blade. Your gaze out and forward, his intently focused on the ceiling fan; then and there.

Occasionally he’d spell a word across your skin  to see if you were paying attention. Today: B R E A K F A S T ?

He didn’t want to interrupt the sounds of the radio on the dresser with the half hearted question.

He carried your plate out onto the front porch, the swinging bench as much a perfectly suitable place to eat as anywhere else. You both tended to enjoy the back porch, but he felt an urge for novelty.

As you nibbled, he stared at the car. He didn’t really want to leave, but he wanted to go somewhere with you.

“Can I take you to the water? We could fish. I’m in no rush today.” You were unsure, tilting your head a little when he asked. He had offered before but you admitted you didn’t know how. “You’ll have time to shower before work.” His index finger came over and waited for yours to hook into his.

Alastor was beyond smitten watching you and your trousers bound down his steps. Hand in hand, in the early morning breeze of the impending fall, he led you through his property to the water’s edge.

A small cup of earthworms he scrounged up while you changed, two poles from the shed, and a bucket he hoped would have fish soon enough.

As a child he often ran through the woods of his home and played pretend, and as he got older and his imagination shifted he would fish for his mother. When his friends began to date and pair off, he’d hunt animals in a parallel kind of chase. 

They took home gals, he dragged in rabbits.

And when his mother died, and the food he brought home was more than he needed, he stopped venturing past the clearing. That trek home to a bright house, his mother waiting on the back porch surrounded by the chirps of crickets was something he cherished.

But then her silhouette was gone. And the cricket’s song became one of loneliness. The walk to the house now a chore, a thing he had to do to get from Point A to Point B.

Pulling you by the hand past the field and its tall grass, into the shade of the trees where the air was so cool it bordered on wet, he wasn’t so worried about the return trip. No tedium in the navigation now.  

Alastor wasn’t loquacious as it were, but when he did feel like talking he talked. He could, and did, name every species of fish that lived in the river. The ones he liked to eat, the ones he liked to look at, and the fish he didn’t care for much at all. His mother’s favorite was bluegill, and he said it was the scariest fish when he was young.

“The fucker has spikes!” He said it like he was introducing a villain, “I grabbed one once and it flexed these spines and I dropped it. I broke a pole trying to beat one to death once because I was too scared to pick it up again.”

You’d never fished. Not because you didn’t care for it, it just wasn’t what you did. Your mother didn’t take you to rivers or the sea. You stayed in buildings and parks near people. You could see the water, just never really interacted with it. Luckily, Alastor was ecstatic to teach you. 

He saddled up behind you and explained how to cast out. It took a few tries to get it right, the release of the line a little tricky to get down at first. You could see the shine of the reels and could tell they were expensive and unused. Easily they were worth more than three dollars a piece. He bought two of them… when? The thought brought a silly, crooked smile you couldn’t contain. 

“A friend accidentally hooked his own back once.” You watched the way his gaze seemed to soften as he was looking into the distant past.

“I hope he’s gotten better at it.”

Alastor shrugged. 

Oh, right… Alastor had friends in a sense, but never had he really introduced you to someone that was remotely important. No one he lit up for, no one he invited over, no one he completely relaxed his put-on smile for. You had to wonder where they'd all gone.

“Do you ever see him?”

He shook his head, “He has a life now.”

Your chuckle wasn’t meant to be cruel, but it came off a little too incredulous, “Do you not have a life?”

He didn't look at you, which was the loudest indicator he wasn’t fond of the question. He cast out his own line, waiting to reply until he could settle, “Sweetheart, do you really think I’ve been living a life compatible with his? Or any of them?” He pulled back on the line a little to feel the tension, “Wives get uncomfortable inviting over single 40 somethings like myself. And I can only stomach so many surprise female dinner guests at such things.”

You felt like an ass. 

Being a single man at his age, with a good job, a car, and land, made people uncomfortable. A lifelong chosen bachelor is fine, a rake is expected, but someone who seemed to be disinterested in dating and in fooling around? You could imagine the looks on their wive’s faces, asking questions that were thinly veiled insults.

What do you do for fun?

Is it difficult to find respectable dates when you work in jazz?

So, you’ve never been married, is that right? Not even close?

A mood change. You waited a moment to let silence kill the topic and asked, “What is the catch you’re most proud of?”

He thought for a second before a lopsided grin spread and you felt your heartbeat relax. “A gull.”

“A gull?!”

Alastor cackled, doubling over at the memory. “I threw out my line and as it flew through the air, a gull passing by grabbed the worm. It fought me for a minute before managing to get loose.” He ended up squating, blue jeans rolled up at the ankles and covered in spurs you just now noticed. “It looked as confused as I was.”

The morning was spent reveling in new and useless information about each other. Your fear of dogs, his fear of armadillos (someone told them they had the plague). The time you accidentally walked into a stranger’s home, the time he startled an old woman because he was standing too still in a store and she thought he was a mannequin.

Moments of intimacy intermittently interrupted by a tugging of the fishing line and excited easing in of the prize.

The fuckers did have spikes. You reached out for your first successful catch and the barbs pricked you. With a hurried step back, your short heel sank into the dirt and you lost your balance. Your ass hit the ground hard, and you needed a breath before you could reply to Alastor’s worried questions.

“I’m fine”, just embarrassed, you assured him before picking up your shoe and throwing it, “I have to go home and change out these shoes.” Leftie smacked against the tree with a soft pop.

“Bring over a few pairs, if you have them. I’m sure a pair of mom’s could fit you, you can wear them home. We could toss these into the river. Shoot ‘em. Run em over.” He retrieved the thrown shoe before kneeling to remove the other one. He touched your ankle, eyes shooting up to monitor your face for any pained expressions. “Burn ‘em.”

“First my stockings last week and now my shoes? You’ve gone fire-happy.” You wiggled your toes for his peace of mind, “It’s okay, I don’t have many shoes. We’ll reconcile someday.”

Alastor sat down properly on the grass and dirt of the river’s edge and took off his shoes and socks. You thought maybe he was trying to commiserate somehow, until he shoved the socks into the toe box and slipped one onto your foot. 

You warned he didn’t have to do that and he flashed you a look, his smirk alone called you a hypocrite and made you go silent. “You can’t perform with tattered feet or a rolled ankle.” He laced them tightly, “I know where the stickers and ant hills are, I’ll be fine.”

Your eyes wandered over the bucket of water and fish, the worms in their cup, and his bare feet on the grass.

“Who taught you to be such a well rounded gentleman?” A rhetorical question, mostly. 

“My mother, of course.”

“Your father didn’t worry you’d be too soft?”

“Ah, apparently not. He left before I was born,” Alaster fidgeted with the straps of your shoes. “He hadn’t considered,” every word was measured, “the realities of,” you could see him searching for the words in real time; this was a conversation he had never had before, “of being with my mother before knocking her up.”

The ‘family planning’ conversation on the kitchen table fluttered back to you.

“Oh, can I have permission to hate him?” Always the easiest emotion.

He clicked his tongue, hands busy looping your shoes together by their straps and then attaching them to his belt loop.

“He left her the house and the land before going. Kept his promise to help take care of me, in that sense. So, no. I think indifference is fair enough.” He grabbed your fish by the tail and placed it into the bucket. “Kinda funny though, had he stuck around he’d have seen how the only thing I got from him was his biggest worry: my complexion!” A joyless laugh, “But I’m just like her in all the ways that matter.”

It came out before you could think it through, “He didn’t love your mother?”

He winced. “Cowards can love just fine, I think. Maybe they love the hardest actually.” You nodded, knowing this wasn’t a philosophical debate where your opinion was needed. “I mean, what kind of man just gives away his only assets?” Alastor leaned over to fix the collar of your blouse, “A scared idiot in love, of course.”

You wondered about ‘family planning’. In their age it was nothing short of guessing and lamb innards. It was impossible to pretend you knew what his father would have lived through had he stayed. But you knew very well what Alastor lived through because he left. New Orleans was different than many other parts of the country when it came to mixed children, but the attitude was less acceptance and more a baseline tolerance for their existence.

The conversation, and shoe change, brought a natural end to the morning. Alastor helped you up, taking the opportunity to brush off your backside. 

He led you until the clearing, he knew the land was flat there, and slowed down to let you walk a little bit ahead. The view of the house was much more inviting with you in it.

As promised, a shower. Originally alone, Alastor sitting on the toilet seat talking to you about dinner. Then he got quiet. He startled you a little when he peeked behind the curtain but everything settled when he got inside and his hands wrapped around your waist. Kisses for kiss’s sake. Skin on skin just to feel closer than you were before. A hum buzzing his chest as you hugged him tightly and wasted some water. Well, ‘wasted’ is subjective. The warmth radiating off his stomach rivaled the shower’s spray. You knew there wasn’t time for a nap, but the comfort was so deeply rooted you worried you’d fall asleep in his arms then and there. 

His mothers shoes did fit, a pair of her black double straps with a nice wide heel replaced your T-straps and their damned thin one. The offer and action of presenting them to you was bigger than could be acknowledged. It was clear in how he wiped them clean with drilled in focus and set them in front of the bed for you like the main course of a fancy meal. The way they’d been kept packaged and neat in the guest closet. 

“Throwing them away seemed a waste. Glad they could be of use.” He said it so casually but it was more than that. When she died he packed away her items and forgot about them. He couldn’t throw them away. It still felt like her house, after all. Who was he to change anything?

It was a little surprise to himself when he offered them to you. It seemed natural at the moment but as he said it his calm heart backtracked. Was that okay to do? Was it disrespectful to his mother? Was it rude to offer you a dead woman’s things? Would you be uncomfortable?

The little strings of worry all cut loose though when you did the straps and said, “I’ll return them in perfect condition.”

He had thought you’d take them forever. But no, that was better. “I’ll buy you your own just like them.”

You quickly buried the sincere sweetness of the moment with a joke, “Finally this long con is paying off!” What else could you do, threading the strap of your beau’s dead, dearly loved mother’s heels? It was like being on cloud nine with lead shoes. Confusingly wonderful and supremely daunting. You were literally walking in her shoes. The irony made you squeeze your arms to your sides to make sure your sweat pads were in their place.

Alastor thought if all you were getting out of this was a pair of shoes, you were definitely coming up in the red. 

Negative. 

Losing out. 

He knew it was a joke,  but had it been true he’d build a home on his land and fill it with shoes and dresses and whatever else you asked for. A stage all your own if you wanted. He’d clap and throw flowers at your feet nightly. If you’d let him. 

Maybe he could do that anyway. Every night, praise you with his mouth in all the ways he could imagine you’d enjoy. 

The analogy carried through as he drove you to work. What was the price of admission and had he managed to afford it yet? Again, he fretted over what he was giving you in all of… whatever exactly this was.

He knew exactly what he wanted it to be and knew very well what you didn’t want. So, letting sleeping dogs lie, he instead considered what you were actually getting out of the arrangement as it stood now. 

He’d met women who just wanted a home to pretty up. You had your own space you seemed keen on so he doubted that was it. Sometimes women pursued him for his obvious disposable income. Images of you swiping the hundred off the hotel bar played across his thoughts. No, you seemed capable enough to earn more than your job paid. If anything you seemed to enjoy chasing down marks.

You’d made it clear your thoughts on marriage (“I won’t be bought by jewelry and promises of a pretty cage.”)  though he did consider what could ever make you want that legal lock. He’d had friends who would have liked the safety a husband lended their image. Women who didn’t have any need or want for men in general. But things like banking and ownership were easier with a husband. And if he was aware of their preferences, they could still enjoy their love lives as they always had tried to before marriage. Alastor had considered such an offer before. Seriously considered it. It seemed to solve all of the problems he and his lady friend had. 

His hands twisted around the steering wheel. He knew, deep in the marrow of his bones, he was always going to be alone. But the tiniest speck of desire to have someone love him and share his life remained buried in the viscera of his reality. So he turned down the sham marriage. What if he met someone inconceivable? Suddenly he would be an adulterer. Which was just hilarious to him. Such a thing could lead to a loss of employment and social shunning. 

Plus, his mother would shake her head if he opened her very deserved home to someone purely existing to make a pleasant lie for the world. Disappointment could leak straight from her grave and into the floorboards.

Everyone wants something, though. He wanted to be seen in his entirety and accepted as he was.

You?

Well. All the things you seemed to want you had. Autonomy. Adoration. Attention. 

His mind conjured images of you sitting pretty in your trousers in Beth’s. Moments like those, before he knew you, you had all of the things you wanted and seemingly needed. It made you upsettingly attractive to him. 

Alastor didn’t want to be needed by someone, he wanted to be wanted by someone who already had everything.

As the car rolled over the bridge and you both made your way into the city proper, his thoughts wandered back to the notion of rings. His mother never had one, so he had nothing to hand down. Would you wear gold, like the necklace you hung on the mirror in the guest room? Or silver?

He suppressed an embarrassed chuckle, he was getting ahead of himself again. Daydreaming while he drove like he always did. But this time you were in the car with him. 

You caught him blushing, asking if he got too much sun by the water earlier. Alastor’s eyes went wide and he laughed a forced ‘ha ha ha!’, punctuated by a flat and low “No!”

All you could do was laugh in return when he didn’t elaborate. The way he was gripping the steering wheel made his knuckles go pale through the thin skin of his hands.  But the wonky smile he had told you he wasn’t angry. 

He gave you a peck outside the theater’s side door, promised to swing by yours after work so you could grab some shoes, and drove off. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Excuse you, you’re not welcome here.”

You heard it but didn’t really register what that implied. Sometimes people tried to sneak in who’d been banned, but it was…not common. The list of people was quite short. You didn’t stop to think of them all, regardless.

You made a habit of calling Ruth by her stage name as early in the work day as you could remember, to avoid any slip ups. So when you called out to her as you worked the room after your performance, she knew to answer.

“Skye, could you bring me some water?” Leaning on the bar you watched her make her own drink, flashing you a wink. She always got tipsy and ended up behind the bar when she was in a good mood. Which was most nights. The staff didn’t mind, the real money to be made was in liquor and whatever could be passed off as beer. So the extra pair of hands was appreciated.

“You’ve been especially happy lately. Good sex?” The glass was slid to you. All you could do was nod. You’d hadn’t actually had sex in awhile, but that wasn’t anyone’s business.

Your smile barely had a chance to slip off your face, your senses too quick for your body to keep up. The awareness that something was wrong hit you fast and hard, but only milliseconds before you felt someone grab you.

Brady’s hand gripped your shoulder and pulled you backwards, something slipping around your wrists as a uniformed cop came around the corner of the atrium. You struggled to get away from him, shouting general protests to being suddenly manhandled. Your voice erupted, the first cannon shot of the war as women and men began to swarm and berate the detective.

Barely a shocked laugh could be choked out from your tightening throat. 

“You’re under arrest!” He yelled it, looking at you for just a moment before announcing it to the audience. An actor to his crowd.

“For what?!” Johnny pushed Brady with two fingers to the chest. 

“Prostitution.”

A beat of silence as the room collectively gasped. Ruth was the first one to truly lay her hands on him, snatching his hat off and smacking him across the head. The other dancers moved like a school of fish, tucking Ruth into the safety of their numbers with a simultaneous jostling of the detective.

The cop leading you away stopped, “Just her? I thought-,”

Detective Brady dusted his hat off with the back of his hand and shooed the man away. “Just her.”

Before you had reached the glass doors of the theater, you tensed and pulled back. “What the fuck are you doing, Mr. Brady?”

But Brady wasn’t looking at you. He was scanning the room. Staring into the small but fierce roiling mass of regulars, dancers, and staff filling up the doorway in front him and flooding the atrium. 

Johnny sized up Brady, getting nose to nose with him, “Show your face here again and we’ll need an ambulance, not a wagon!”

Brady leaned into the confrontation, “Now sir I’d be careful. That almost sounds like a threat.”

“Sure as shit is!” Someone hissed. 

“Hey! Brady!” You tried again in vain to get his attention.

“Hush. You confessed to it already, no point crying now.” The cop’s voice was harsh, his disgust barely hidden. His palms were calloused and scratched at the exposed skin of your arms.

“Someone! Someone call-,” Ruth snapped her fingers as the syllables teetered on the tip of her tongue.

Goosebumps rose across your shoulders like little tombstones. Your autonomic nervous system came to a crawl. The grip on your arm tightened as you had to be wretched forward and out of the front doors.

Her eyes lit up, “Alastor! Does anyone have Alastor’s work number?!” Ruth was met with confused faces and shrugs from the others.

You didn’t feel yourself begin to cry, it was a reaction to the fact you hadn’t blinked since you became aware Brady didn’t seem too interested in your reaction to this.

This wasn’t an arrest. It was a trap.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

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, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

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@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart's honeymoon 🥹🥹🥹

The way I ran to Google Docs to write this, not just because I love me some fluffy smut, but also because I love you.

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Relaxing on the beach, giving your new husband a sexy surprise...what more can you ask for?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), p in v, breeding kink (of course), Ms. Sweetheart/Reader wears lingerie

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Big thank you and smoochy kisses to @jo-harrington for helping me make this piece body-inclusive, and to @corroded-hellfire for ensuring the breeding kink was on point.

August 1998

“What a day.” Eddie flops onto the king-size bed face first, still in his wet swim trunks. Sand sticks to the bottom of his feet; you swear he’s traipsed in half the beach. “Who knew lounging in the sun could be so exhausting? I don’t know how we’re gonna go back to our normal lives.” He flips over onto his back so his words are no longer muffled. “Like, my body might be back in Hawkins, but my mind will be in Myrtle Beach.”

You laugh, arms crossed over your chest and pressed against the thin fabric of your cover-up. “Can you drag yourself into the shower and wash off?” When he doesn’t move, you let your fingertips dance along the sole of his foot. He giggles maniacally and reflexively, drawing inwards. 

“Dammit, okay, okay!” He shakes his head and pushes himself up to an upright position. “The things you do to get me naked…”

“Mhm.” You roll your eyes dismissively as though his suggestion is absurd—even though that’s exactly what you’re trying to do. 

As soon as you hear the squeak of the spigot and the ensuing stream of water, you unzip your suitcase and rifle through until you find what you’re looking for. You feel it before you see it, fingers grasping the lacy fabric triumphantly. 

You shed the flower-printed cover-up, catching a glimpse in the mirror of yourself in your swimsuit. Eddie had picked it out for you—a one-piece that hugged you in all the right places. Truthfully, you could wear this and it would turn him on, but this is your honeymoon, and you want it to be special. 

Peeling off the damp suit, you toss it aside; it lands on the floor with a comical thwack, and you make a mental note to pick it up later. 

The teddy you’d bought weeks ago suddenly looks daunting, purchased during a trip to the mall with Jess. She’d insisted that no honeymoon is complete without some lingerie, and you’d reluctantly given in after she’d assured you multiple times that Eddie would, quote, “lose his goddamn mind.”

Soft black cups perfectly hold your breasts in place, accentuating your decolletage. The sheer mesh covering your torso is embroidered with lace roses, leaving just enough to the imagination. 

All right, you can admit it—you look good. 

You lounge on the small sofa that faces the bathroom, adjusting the bodysuit’s thin straps as you wait for the steadily falling water to cease, punctuated by several rogue drops. Your heart leaps with excitement as you hear the door knob twist and you’re bathed in a plume of steamy air. 

“Surprised you didn’t try to join—holy hell.” Eddie exhales with a grin, taking in your scantily-clad body. A white towel is slung low on his hips, sopping up the water trickling from his curls. “Where did you get this little number, baby?”

Heat creeps into your cheeks as he saunters toward you, one hand finding the small of your back while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in and kisses you hungrily, his burgeoning erection pressing against your bare thigh.

“Got me all worked up just by looking at you, Mrs. Munson,” he murmurs into your lips. It sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine as he deepens his embrace, pulling you as close as he possibly can.

Your fingers dip beneath the towel, tugging it from where it’s tucked along his waist and letting it drop. He’s fully exposed, and it takes all of your willpower to keep up this game of seduction and refrain from kissing down his happy trail.

“Since you’re so tired tonight, baby,” you coo, nipping at his earlobe as you speak, “I figured I could take care of you.” Your palms journey the expanse of his chest, draping them over his shoulders and guiding him onto the bed. The fresh bed sheets are crisp underneath your knees as you straddle him, grinding your core against his. “‘S that okay?”

Eddie nods, letting out an incredulous breath. “Course, yeah, whatever you want…” He sits up slightly, mouth drawn to your breasts as though pulled by a magnet. 

“I want you,” you tell him, sucking bruises into his neck that you hope will last until you return home. “I want you inside me, filling me up, making me feel so, so good…”

The fabric between your thighs is already soaked with proof of your desire, and you shift it over so you can sink down onto his hardened length. You take him inch by inch, the tip breaching your hole and stretching you in its delicious, familiar way.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, bringing his hands to the flesh of your ass and giving your movements more stability. Each rock of your hips draws a moan from your husband’s plush lips, his tongue darting out to wet them every so often. “Eddie, oh, my god!”

His grip on your ass tightens as you clench around him and continue to bounce. “‘M close,” he grunts, breath hitching as he begins slamming up into you to chase his release. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight…can’t hold back any more…” He speaks through gritted teeth, purely animalistic in nature. 

Your middle finger finds your clit, rubbing small circles into it. The small movements drive both you and Eddie absolutely wild. 

“Thassit…touch yourself for me,” he groans, barely audible above the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin and the way you’re drenching him right now. “You look so goddamn perfect like this, filled to the brim with my cock.”

“Wanna be filled with your cum, too,” you whine, feeling the beginnings of your own orgasm. “Wanna take all your cum, Eddie, like a good little wife.”

Eddie’s eyes practically roll back in his head. ���My good little wife, all barefoot and pregnant…fuckfuckfuck…takeittakeittakeit.” With a final few thrusts, he spills into you with everything he has. His grasp loosens as he softly kisses your arms, desperate to remain close to you in any way possible. 

“So,” you start with a giggle, gently moving off of him so you can cuddle into his perspiration-slick chest, “looks like you got a second wind.”

He tilts your chin up, his eyes studying your face like a precious gemstone. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll get a third, okay, Sweetheart?” He winks, thumb gliding up and down your jawline. “Keep that sexy outfit on f’me, though. I’m not done with either of you.”

--

[svp3rrn0va]

Wicked Games (NSFW)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow & f!MC

Summary: MC recently ended a serious relationship with Garreth Weasley and she's in the anger stage. All she wants is to make him jealous. She approaches her friend Sebastian who she knows will be willing to help her with that. They succeed, but Sebastian gets a bit too carried away, but MC doesn't seem to mind...

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, creampie, revenge

Word Count: 4,083

For the last week, you found yourself lying awake at night wondering when Garreth would change his mind. You had been together for 8 months, and although one might argue that isn't much time, it felt like an eternity for you.

Your relationship with Garreth was the first that you felt was truly serious, and your feelings certainly reflected that. You had fallen in love -- or at least you thought you did. Whether or not you did, though, it didn't matter. You were still heartbroken.

But you were done with the tears. Especially because you knew Garreth hadn't shed any. He was the one who called it off, after all, and for no good reason. But you felt it coming for a while. He was becoming distant. You would ask if everything was alright, and he'd tell you it was, but you knew better.

Not a day has passed since he ended it that you've sat wondering what you did wrong, or what's wrong with you that suddenly made him disinterested. You didn't want that to happen, because no girl should diminish her self-worth over what a stupid boy thinks.

After all these negative thoughts, you wanted to get revenge on Garreth. How dare he make you feel this way about yourself? You didn't want to hurt him physically, of course, but he had hurt you mentally. Why not return the favor, or get a rise out of him at the very least?

There was only one thing you could think of doing to get back at him.

Make him jealous.

That's where Sebastian comes in. You've known Sebastian for years and considered him one of your best friends. He'd do anything for you. Sebastian's known around the castle for being extremely handsome, and you knew Garreth was threatened by him, but he'd never admit it.

Whenever Sebastian won in Crossed Wands, or made a good beater play in Quidditch, Garreth was always the first to scoff and ask 'So what?' while everyone else applauded and congratulated him. There was no competition, but clearly, Garreth took all of Sebastian's triumphs as personal attacks.

It was no surprise that Sebastian turned up mere minutes after you sent an owl telling him to meet you in the Undercroft.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" He asked with concern etched across his face.

"I'm fine, well, I will be," you replied, sitting on the floor against one of the pillars. "I need to ask you for a favor."

"Of course, anything," he said, sitting across from you on the floor.

"I want you to help me make Garreth jealous." Sebastian laughed and you frowned. "I'm serious."

"Why do you want to do that?"

"Because I'm mad and hate him," you replied, crossing your arms.

"You don't hate him, you're just hurting right now, which is understandable."

"Sebastian I've been hating myself for days now because of him. It's unfair that I have to feel like this while he's not bothered at all."

Sebastian sighed and frowned.

"I know. I'm sorry. But are you sure you want to do this? What's the point? I think this will help you realize you're better off without him. You should work on moving on instead of getting revenge."

You knew Sebastian meant well, but you were getting frustrated at him being difficult for once. He normally didn't question you on things you wanted, and you didn't know why this time was different. You and him were both very stubborn and couldn't be swayed once you had your mind set on things, and this was one of those things.

"Sebastian, please..."

You blinked quickly at him, trying to give him puppy dog eyes. He watched you for a moment, and you grinned when you finally heard him sigh.

"Alright, if this will make you happy, I'll do it."

"Thank you, Seb."

You knew he would be easy to crack since you've spent a lot of time crying to him recently. He knew how upset you've been and he hated seeing you that way, so he was willing to do anything to make you feel better.

"How are you planning to do this?" He asked.

"There's a Slytherin-Gryffindor party on Saturday after the Quidditch game, regardless of who wins."

"Oh, right, forgot about that."

"I assume Garreth will be there since he never misses a party. Let's just go together and look like we're flirting with each other in front of him."

Sebastian nodded. "Alright. Sounds simple enough."

***

It was Saturday and the match just ended. As usual, Slytherin won. You threw Sebastian a thumbs-up as you skipped over to him. He returned an exhausted smile as he panted, sweat dripping from his hair. He always looked so handsome that way.

"I need a shower," he said once you reached him.

"That's fine, I can wait for you. He would definitely notice us turning up at the same time, anyway."

You waited outside the showers, watching the hippogriffs flying far off in the sky, lost in thought until Sebastian tapped you on the shoulder, all dressed up and ready to go.

He looked really good. He was wearing an all-black outfit. A black button-up shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. The wet hair enhanced the look as well. He looked classy.

"That's a good outfit," You say, eyeing him up and down.

"Thank you. Is it too formal? I don't want to be overdressed," he chuckled shyly.

"Not at all. It's a party, dress however you like."

"Good. I figured if I'm all dressed up it could irritate Garreth even more, assuming he's just going without his robe."

You smirked. "Well, I appreciate you going all out for me, considering you were unsure about all this."

"If I'm helping you then I want to do it to the best of my ability."

You squeezed his arm lovingly as we went down to the dungeons where the party was being held.

Once you arrived and entered the common room, almost instantly you made eye contact with Garreth, and his smile faded as soon as he noticed you standing next to Sebastian. He quickly turned to talk to his friends and pretended he was unbothered.

"Looks like it's working already," You said to Sebastian.

"Good. I'll go get us some drinks. Go find a spot near him."

You nodded and you split up. You slowly made your way towards him, acting aloof as if you weren't putting much thought into where you were wandering. You sat a few feet away from him on the sofa, and he was standing near the fireplace with his friends.

You tried to watch him from the corner of your eye to be discreet. You could see that he noticed you, which was good. You wanted to be in his direct line of sight. Thankfully he didn't move, which you worried that he would.

Sebastian returned with 2 glasses of fire whiskey moments later.

"I'm glad you found somewhere comfortable," he said, sitting beside you on the sofa.

You laughed, loud enough to get Garreth's attention. Sebastian gave you a strange look and began to laugh himself, since what he said wasn't funny at all.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting on the act, of course," You mumbled, squeezing his arm with a bright smile.

You kept your gaze on Sebastian, trying not to be too obvious. Sebastian took a few glances at Garreth, however.

"He looks annoyed," he said.

"That's great."

You grabbed the fire whiskey and took a couple large sips, wanting to get a buzz on so this would be even easier. Sebastian followed suit, taking some sips of his own drink. He winced as the alcohol burned his throat on the way down.

The night went on and you and Sebastian remained planted on the sofa, and Garreth by the fireplace. He kept glaring in your direction every time you laughed or spoke a bit too loud. He was clearly distracted in his conversation.

You both had finished your fire whiskey and you weren't drunk, but you were definitely buzzed at this point. You took some more daring approaches as the buzz grew, such as touching Sebastian's chin and ruffling his hair.

It seemed Sebastian was getting more daring, too, as he placed a hand on your thigh. Your heart skipped a beat for a second, but you quickly brushed it off and took a quick glance over at Garreth, making it look like you just happened to spot him by accident. His face was nearly as red as his hair.

"Alright, Sebastian, he looks mad enough. I think we're go-"

You were cut off by Sebastian planting his lips on yours.

What the fuck?

You lightly pushed him off and stared at him in shock. But all of a sudden, your mind was fuzzy. You nearly forgot why you were at the party with Sebastian in the first place. You didn't even care about wanting to make Garreth jealous anymore.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... I don't know what came ov-"

You pulled him in for more, and he instantly melted into you. As soon as Sebastian kissed you the first time, that's all you wanted. His lips on yours. Your intentions were completely derailed, but you didn't care. This was amazing.

After a minute, you pulled away from Sebastian once again. When you looked over to the fireplace, Garreth was gone. He must've stormed off after the kiss.

You looked back at Sebastian, who stared at you with the same look of shock as you'd given him before. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, you grabbed his wrist and led him all the way to the Undercroft in silence.

"Look, I already told you, I'm really sorry," he pleaded as soon as the door shut behind you.

"Are you drunk?" You asked him.

"No. I'm buzzed, but I'm sober. Are you drunk?"

"No."

There was a moment of silence.

"Why did you kiss me?" You asked suddenly.

"I don't know... I was trying to say I didn't know what came over me," he began to pace back and forth.

"I mean -- you didn't need to. He was already fuming just from us touching each other."

"Why are you interrogating me? You kissed me the second time."

You froze. He was right. You didn't even know if Garreth left after the first or second kiss.

"I-- I don't-"

"I kissed you because I wanted to," he mumbled.

"You what?"

"I wanted to."

He stopped pacing and turned to face you, taking a deep breath.

"I'm not drunk by any means, but maybe the alcohol made me a bit more brave. I wanted to kiss you. I've wanted to kiss you for years. Why do you think I always agree to do things for you, do things with you? Because I want every excuse to spend time with you. I was destroyed when you got with Garreth, and I was even more destroyed when I saw how heartbroken he made you. Each time you came and cried to me about how awful you felt, all I wanted to do was hold you, but I couldn't. I couldn't tell you how I felt while you were going through that. You told me how you must be ugly for him to lose interest so suddenly, or how you're not important enough. Truly, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and you are worth the world. I wanted to fucking kill Garreth when I saw how devastated you were. He made a mistake hurting you. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I needed to. Because I love you."

In an instant, your world changed. You remembered so many things at once. It explained why you wanted to kiss him back. You remembered the feeling in your stomach every time you would see him. You remembered the feeling in your stomach every time he would leave. You remembered the feeling in your stomach when you'd get into an argument and were unsure if he would ever forgive you.

You especially remembered the feeling in your stomach when he got a little too friendly with Nellie Oggspire. You realized that was the reason you even got with Garreth in the first place. You were trying to avoid your feelings for Sebastian. That day you made your first move on Garreth when you had no interest in him before that.

No one else made you feel the way Sebastian did... and for some reason, you tried repressing those feelings. Maybe out of fear that you would lose him? He was the only person who could truly make you laugh, and he was the only person who was willing to listen to everything you were going through.

"Can- can you say something?" Sebastian asked quietly.

"I- I love you, too."

"You do?"

You nodded. "I do. I love you, Sebastian. I always have."

In seconds, Sebastian closed the distance between you both, crashing his lips onto you once again. You instantly felt weak in the knees and you grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt to keep yourself from falling over.

You were already attracted to him, but the taste of the fire whiskey on his lips made him even more intoxicating, and you wanted to taste it even more. He seemed to have read your mind as he slipped his tongue into your mouth at the slightest part of your lips.

You moaned into his mouth and he leaned down a bit, placing his hands on the back of your knees. You knew what he wanted you to do and you obliged, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He held onto you and brought you over to a desk you both used to study in the Undercroft.

He propped you up so you were sitting on the desk and he stood between your legs as he began to unbutton your blouse.

"Do you want to do this?" He asked.

The unmistakable throbbing in your core confirmed that you wanted nothing else but this. You nodded.

He continued to unbutton your blouse and gently placed it on the desk beside you once it was removed. He looked at your half-naked torso with a lick of his lips and softly traced his fingers down your arms, giving you goosebumps.

You turned around to give him access to the buttons on your corset, breathing a sigh of relief once it was fully unbuttoned. He slowly removed the corset as well, leaving your upper body fully exposed to him.

"Fucking beautiful, look at you," he growled.

You blushed at his praise.

Sebastian stepped closer to you, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasped and arched your back towards him, gripping his hair in your fists. He sucked and licked on your nipple until it was hard before moving on to the next one.

He hadn't even been inside you yet and you couldn't deny that he was pleasuring you much better than Garreth ever had. You were absolutely desperate for him at this point. You spread your legs even further to let him know you were ready.

Sebastian got the memo, as he took his mouth off your breast and began to pull down your skirt. You wiggled your hips so it was easier for him to slide it off.

He stepped forward again to kiss you some more as he pressed his fingers against your clit, still covered by your underwear, but the pressure was enough to cause you to yelp and shake. The sound made him grin against your lips.

"Sensitive..." he whispered.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself upright as he began to rub circles on your clit, relishing in the feeling of the soaking wet fabric, knowing just how ready you were for him.

"How does that feel, honey? Does that feel good?" He asked, with his tone so deep his voice alone could've made you finish. You nodded, unable to form words as you threw your head back in pleasure.

"I'm glad. I want to taste you now, is that alright?"

You whimpered at the thought of his tongue on your pussy, and you craved it. "Yes, please, Seb..."

He smiled at you and began to pull down your underwear, and your clit pulsed in anticipation.

Your underwear joined the rest of your clothes in their spot on the desk, and Sebastian gently pushed your legs further apart, getting a good look at your sweet spot.

"I'm going to make you feel really good. I'll make you forget about Weasley," he said, running his hand down your thigh.

You almost went unconscious at how hot the sight of him getting on his knees in front of you was.

You fell back against the desk as soon as you felt Sebastian's tongue run across your slit. "Oh, fuck," you squeaked.

He chuckled deeply before flicking it once against your clit, and your legs flexed in response. He wrapped his arms around your thighs before going in, rapidly flicking his tongue against your nub, not worrying about how much he began to salivate.

You cried out his name and tugged on his hair, trying to pry him off due to how deep his tongue was pressed onto your clit and how sensitive it already was, but he wouldn't budge. In fact, he went in even more.

It felt so fucking good you practically couldn't breathe, and you couldn't sit up for longer than 5 seconds before falling back onto the desk again.

Sebastian shook his head back and forth like a madman, wanting to taste you like he hadn't eaten in days. You wanted to watch him as he ate you out, but your head was spinning in pure ecstasy. He knew just where to put his tongue, and Garreth was never good at eating you out. Sebastian knew exactly what he was doing.

You felt your orgasm coming already since your clit was so sensitive and needy. Sebastian knew it was coming as you closed your legs around his head, and he dug his fingers deeper into the skin of your thighs. It was over when he closed his lips around your nub and gently pulled on it. Instantly your pussy began to pulsate and you felt your juices spilling out onto the desk.

"Fuck me, Sebastian!" You cried.

Sebastian licked up every last drop of your juices, even tracing his finger on whatever dripped on the desk and sucking that off, too. Seeing his chin shine in the light from your cum was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

You spotted the raging boner in his trousers once he stood up and it made your mouth water. He wanted you so badly, and you him. You cupped his bulge and looked up at him, licking your lips.

"Please," you whine.

Sebastian shook his head.

"No, honey," he said softly, placing a finger to your chin. "This night is all about you. I want to please you tonight."

Fuck. He's perfect.

You bit your lip at him as you nodded in compliance, and that subtle act seemed to send him into a frenzy. He dove forward, biting and sucking at your neck as he ground against you. You reached up and began to unbutton his shirt but you only got the top few unbuttoned when he stopped you.

"No. That takes too long," he growled.

You froze for a moment until he started fumbling with his belt, and you realized he was just so desperate to be inside you that he didn't want to waste time undressing, and it had you throbbing all over again.

He removed his belt and unclasped the button of his trousers, pulling them down just enough along with his underwear for him to be exposed to you. You dripped at the sight of his beautiful cock, fully erect and stunningly girthy. He was going to stretch you out perfectly.

The tip of his penis was dark and shiny. You wanted to lick and suck on it like candy, but he didn't care about the foreplay on him. He just wanted to fuck you senseless, but you knew you'd have plenty of time to suck him off in the future. At this point you wanted him to do anything he wanted to you.

He gave his shaft a few more pumps as he stepped closer to you. Just by looking you could tell he likely wouldn't last long, as he was visibly pulsing and pre-cum was already dripping from the hole.

You hissed as he teased your slit by rubbing himself on it, and he leaned in to give you a soft, tender kiss.

"I love you," he whispered.

Before you even had time to reply, your words were cut off with a long groan as he pushed himself into you. Your vision went blurry as his thick cock stretched you out in all the best ways. You grabbed onto his sleeves so tightly you nearly ripped them.

Sebastian began his slow thrusts in and out of you, and he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to look into your eyes as he entered you as deeply as he could.

His thrusts were slow but aggressive, and you could feel his balls slapping against your skin every time he pushed in. You were somewhat glad he kept his shirt on, as this shirt made him look very broad and manly, and you loved to see him in it as he fucked you.

"You're so warm, you feel so good," he moaned.

He leaned down, pressing his head into your neck and you leaned further back against the desk. His thrusts began to speed up and you clenched your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him as much as you could.

Sebastian wrapped one arm around your back to stabilize you and planted a few more kisses to the crook of your neck. You shivered as he pressed his tongue against your flesh.

He groaned at how tightly your walls pressed around his length from you clenching around his waist. The wetness and warmth sent him over the edge and he knew he wouldn't be able to manage for much longer.

"I'm getting close, my love," he panted.

"Fuck me, Seb. Fill me up," you replied.

He became ravenous at those words, beginning to pound into you so quickly you could've gone numb from the waist down. You cried out as he fucked you senselessly, and he pressed his lips onto your nipple once again.

He licked circles around your nipple, and your body jerked upward as he gently pressed his teeth onto it. He moaned when you made a soft, animalistic grunt in response. Once he pulled away and caught sight of the way your tits bounced from him pounding into you, it was enough for him.

"Oh, baby, I'm gonna- fuck!"

You gasped and shook as you felt him throb inside of you, spilling everything he could into your pussy. The twitching of his cock along with the warmth filling your hole was enough to send you as well, and you wailed as your walls began to clench around him.

You fell back against the desk and he leaned over you. The two of you sat still for a moment, him still inside you, and you both panted until you came back to your senses. He gave you another loving kiss before pulling himself out.

"Oh Merlin," he chuckled. "I think I'll need another shower."

"I might need one, too," you replied.

He began to straighten himself out, rebuttoning the top of his shirt and pulling his trousers back up. Concern spread across his face when he noticed your serious expression.

"You alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine. But, am I awful for doing this so quickly?"

Sebastian sighed and came back over to you, cupping your face in his hands.

"You're not. You did nothing wrong, my love. He led you on for months before breaking up with you. He missed out. It's my turn to give you the love that you deserve. You hear me?"

You smiled and nodded at him, and he gave you another peck on the lips.

"I just hope he doesn't give me a hard time," you mumbled.

"He won't. Not anymore," he replied. "Or else he'll have to deal with me."

[cc--2224]

Asking For Help

Pairing: Platonic Tech & F!Reader

Summary: You decide to stay in bed to deal with the pain you're experiencing. The Batch notices and sends Tech to check on you.

Warnings: Reader kind of described as AFAB as fic deals with period pain. But other than that, pure fluff! It can 100% be platonic.

Word Count: 918

Notes: Does the Bad Batch understand anatomy? Probably. Was it more fun to make them panic? Absolutely. I mostly wrote this for me as I took the day off work for this exact reason 😂 no real proofreading.

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

The Marauder's cockpit seemed weirdly empty without you, and everyone noticed your absence. You hadn't been with Clone Force 99 for very long, but when you spend all your time with the same people for four months, they start to worry when you're not being as social as you normally would.

"Where is she?" Hunter finally asked, looking at the empty seat you normally occupied.

Wrecker shrugged, "I tried calling her this morning for breakfast but she didn't leave her room."

"Is it not obvious?" Tech asked, eyes not leaving his datapad. "She exhibits this behaviour roughly around the same time each month."

He thought he was giving everyone the answer, but their confused faces told him that he wasn't.

"She is mostly likely menstruating."

"In Common, Tech." Wrecker said.

Crosshair rolled his eyes, "She's on her period. It's not the end of the world."

Eyes turned back to Tech for an explanation, and he sighed.

"Do none of you pay attention to the anatomy manuals? People who are biologically female go through this process nearly every month. Their body prepares itself for an egg to be fertilized, but when it is not, it begins to shed the excess in the form of blood and uterine lining. Typically resulting in side effects such as; mood swings, pelvic cramps, lower back pain, and headaches to name a few."

Wrecker looked shocked, "And they do this every month? That sounds painful."

Tech shrugged, "I couldn't say, from my understanding, each person reacts differently."

"Shouldn't we check on her? Make sure she's okay?" Hunter asked.

"She does it every month with or without us, I don't see how now is any different." Crosshair pointed out.

"Yeah but, we're her friends, we should help if we can."

Wrecker looked back to Tech, "You know the most about it, you go see if she's okay."

Expectant looks all pointed in Tech's direction and he shook his head. "Fine, I suppose I could inquire after her."

Truthfully, Tech was also concerned for you, even though he had a vague understanding of what was going on. He found your presence soothing, and the Marauder seemed more cheerful with you around. And it was his nature to want to solve any problems that arose, so he wanted the chance to do that now.

He got up from his seat and walked toward the refresher to look for a hot compress and some painkillers so that he might actually be of assistance before cautiously walking toward your room.

He knocked quietly.

"...Yeah?" You croaked from inside the room.

"It's Tech, may I come in?"

You didn't answer immediately but then after a few seconds you spoke, "Door's unlocked."

He pressed the button to open the door before stepping in and letting it close behind him. He frowned slightly when he was you curled up on your bunk with your arms around your stomach.

"I take it I was correct then, you are menstruating."

"Yeah." You replied a little too harshly. "Did you need something?"

"It appears your absence went quite noticed this morning and the others are worried about you."

"So they sent you to check on me?"

He adjusted his goggles, "Well, even though I had suspected what the issue was, I suppose I was also worried."

You didn't say anything, but you moved slowly, creating room for him to sit down on your bunk, he sat on the edge.

"I have brought you a compress and painkillers, if you are interested. I have heard they help to alleviate any cramping and pain associated with it." He handed both to you.

You smiled at his gesture and took the painkillers first. "Thank you," you swallowed two of them down with water from the canteen beside your bunk, then you took the heat compress and hugged it to your stomach.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked, looking down at you.

You looked at him then looked at your pillow and shook your head.

"Very well, I will check up on you later then." He announced before standing up and walking toward the door.

"Wait.." You called out. He turned to look at you. "Can you stay.. with me?"

His expression went from surprised to a gentle smile, and he nodded. "Of course."

He walked back over to your bunk and returned to his seat on the edge.

"Can we- er... Can you hold me?" You asked, so quietly that he thought he might have misheard you.

"You'd like me to hold you?" He repeated.

His need for clarification caused blood to rise to your face in embarrassment.

"If-if that's okay, actually, nevermind I-"

But before you could finish your rambling, Tech crawled into the bunk next to you, holding you so your back was firm against his chest.

You sighed into him and closed your eyes as he began drawing idle shapes on the skin of your shoulder.

"Thank you, Tech." You repeated.

"You are welcome, but your gratitude is unwarranted. We are your friends, we want to help you. Anytime you need us, you do not need to be afraid to ask for help, no matter what ails you.”

You smiled once more. With the heat both from the compress and Tech pressed against you and the painkillers beginning to kick in, you felt yourself finally begin to drift off to sleep. Despite his protests, you were truly grateful to have friends who cared about you, no matter what was going on.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Hurt

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, being mean to each other, fighting, fluff ending

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

You normally didn’t mind, you really didn’t. His little quips and remarks usually made you laugh. But as of late they were making you uncomfortable, beyond that they were making you sad. You were sure he meant no harm but nevertheless harm was caused. Like little paper cuts on your heart. Today had hurt especially. He dodged your morning kiss, making a face that you could only describe as disgust. He made you the butt of most jokes. You didn’t even stay in his tent at night anymore because he never came to you, staying out all night doing gods know what or sleeping away from you. 

“You have a type don’t you? Elven prostitutes… honestly darling it’s pathetic.” Astarion said as you finished speaking with the drow twins. His voice was unimpressed and dismissive of you. 

Your face fell and you felt your eyes grow wet. You handed Karlach the crude map the drows gave you, leading to the wine festival you were to attend in order to stop a series of murders. “Were done for the day.” you said stoically, leaving Sharess’ Caress. The sun was just beginning to dip down behind the mountains. You waved your hand, golden flakes enveloping you. Your armor was gone and you were left in simple clothes. A hand clasped your shoulder, stopping you from walking.

“Love…” Astarion started.

You cut him off, “Leave me alone.” you said, harshly shrugging his hand off your shoulder and shoving him away. You turned and started to walk off again. Ever persistent, he followed you. He grabbed your wrist with a much softer grasp but you were having none of it. Gold flowed from your hand, forming a small dagger. You yanked your hand away before pointing the knife at his throat, “I won’t ask again.” you spat at him. His face contorted. He looked hurt, wounded by your words and actions. And honestly, you felt good. He was finally feeling what had been building up in you for weeks. 

He watched you disappear in the crowds of Baldur’s Gate. What had he done? He knew exactly what. He was not kind to you as of late. This bitter pit inside of him had him acting irrationally. He knew exactly what it was. He loved you so he was trying to push you away. And by the looks of it, he was succeeding. He sighed, dropping his head. You needed space, so he would give it to you. He returned to camp with the others. He anxiously awaited your return, trying to come up with what he would say to you. 

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

You wandered the city, not sure where you were trying to end up. You just wanted to be away. Eventually you made it out of the city and into the wilderness. You sat on the edge of a cliff. You watched the ocean below crash against the rock over and over again. You finally shed your tears. You tried not to blame yourself but you had no idea what had changed in him. You knew what you had to do, now you just needed to gather the courage to do it. You were the leader, you had to be strong. 

Deep into the night you returned to camp. Astarion watched you walk to your tent. You lit a few candles, your tent illuminating him as he edged closer. You were taking your trousers off when he walked in. You pulled them back up with a huff and pulled your large shirt down to cover you.

“Hardly the first time I’ve seen you without clothes…” said Astarion, trying to lighten the mood.

“That was the past.” you said in a flat voice before you pushed past him to grab your brush. You brushed your hair in the mirror, acting as if he was invisible.

Astarion’s undead heart felt like it was trembling. You weren’t upset, you were angry. He had never seen you angry and he had a feeling he was about to experience a side of you he was unprepared to meet. 

“Darling…” he started, reaching towards you.

You turned around, dodging his hand. “No. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” you said confidently, yet inside your heart was breaking.

Astarions face turned soft, scared. “What should I call you then?”

“Y/N. I am nothing to you beyond a traveling companion, so treat me as such.” your face was cold, your eyes were sharp.

“My sweet, please…” he said. You shot him a glare for the pet name but he persisted. “Y/N…” 

“Do you have anything of value to say? If not, I need rest.” you sauntered over to your bedroll, half expecting him to leave. With the way he was treating you, he should be jumping at the chance to leave. 

“I’m sorry.” he said in a small voice. 

You had never heard him like that, even in his softer moments. You forced your eyes to meet his and noticed the lone tear falling down his cheek. “Were nothing to each other Astarion, you hardly have anything to be sorry for. You should go.” you said, doing your best to keep up the facade. 

“No!..” he blurted. You quirked an eyebrow at him. “... please just let me say my piece… If you still want me to go afterwards, I will without fuss.” 

You sighed before nodding at him.

“I’m sorry… for everything. I’ve acted monstrously towards you as of late. I… I love you… and I’m so scared I didn’t know what to do… I tried to push you away. But once you were gone… everything felt worse. I don’t know what to do… but I do know I’m sorry for hurting you.” he said in a calm tone but you could hear the slight panic. 

“You love me?” you asked him, unsure if you heard him right. 

“More than you can imagine.” he said with the smallest smile.

“You fucking idiot...” you mumbled. 

His smile completely dropped off, he nodded curtly as he turned to walk out. You grabbed his wrist, turning him towards you before you crashed your lips to his. He let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. He squeezed you close to him, holding your face in his hands, scared you would disappear if he didn’t. 

“You’re a fucking moron… but you’re my fucking moron.” you kissed him again. You wiped a tear from his face, he nuzzled his head into your hand. 

“I’m so sorry…” he whispered. 

You shushed him, “We were both rash, we both made judgment errors. I’m sorry too.” you kissed his cheeks. “Let's go to bed?”

“My sweet, I’d like nothing more.” he smiled at you, hugging you close before descending to the bedroll with you. “And if I’m honest, you holding a knife to my throat was rather… erotic.” He said with lust in his voice and a wink of his eye.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello! I love a little angst so here we go! Hope you all enjoy, love you all so much! XOXOXOXOXO!!!

[paimonial-rage]

returning home - freminet

ship: freminet x reader

synopsis: selkies are creatures of the sea. the world of land can never be their home

notes: 11.2k words, au where the twins don’t exist and arlecchino hasn’t taken over the house of the hearth yet

It took you a few moments to realize what they were speaking of when you heard it. A selkie. You heard that word before, long before your father sold you to the orphanage. Your mother told you the stories as a child cuddled up to her side on those cold nights. With a smile, she would weave tales of the marvelous creatures hidden within the boundaries of Fontaine as her lovely voice would lull you to sleep.

Though human in appearance, selkies were creatures of the sea. It was said that on some nights when one was really lucky, one would be able to see a seal shed its coat on the shore. And from it, a beautiful human would emerge. If you wanted to bind them to land, it would require stealing and hiding their seal skin. But you had to make sure they never found it, for if they did, the sea would inevitably call for their return. They cannot ignore that which flows through their veins.

You were not surprised to hear that word again, nor that they existed. There were many strange and mystical creatures throughout the whole of Teyvat. What you found the most surprising was your lack of it upon hearing that Freminet was one.

A selkie.

He didn’t tell you. You happened upon it a few months after entering the House while eavesdropping on a conversation between two of your “instructors.” They said that the Director took his seal skin from him when Freminet’s mother first gave him to the House. She hid it away deep within her quarters in a chest by her bed. Though curiosity burned within them, the instructors did not dare ask to see it. The Director’s responses were never kind.

Still, the thought didn’t really bother you at first, nor did it spur you to action. Though you knew Freminet (you knew all the kids of the Hearth), it couldn’t be said that you truly “knew” him. You preferred to keep your distance, after all. The less you cared about your siblings, the better. Still, you knew enough of Freminet to know what he was like.

He was a gloomy kid, quiet and polite. When he wasn’t on missions, one could often find him in the Hearth’s bookroom reading stories or in the basement tinkering on different clockwork machines. You could tell from the moment you first saw him that he was the sensitive sort, the type that was often overwhelmed by his emotions. It would explain why the Director picked on him so much.

But more than that, you could always tell that he didn’t exactly belong. Granted, barely any of the children of the House belonged. Majority were weak and pathetic, the kind that cried themselves to sleep every night. But Freminet was different. Perhaps it was how he’d speak softly to his clockwork creations or the way you’d often find him lingering under the surface of the sea for hours. It was as if he didn’t belong to the world in which you lived.

Still, you didn’t bother to put more thought into him than that. Children entered and exited the House like a revolving door. Though you started after him, you doubted he would be along for much longer. Such was the fate of the weak and pitiful. And Freminet was the poster child of such. It didn’t matter that he had a reason for being that way. You simply wanted nothing to do with him.

Unfortunately, life always found it hilarious to act in opposition to whatever you wished for.

It was a normal day just like any other around a year after you became a part of the House. You were put in command of a squad of your siblings, Freminet being one of them. You were to infiltrate the Fortress of Meropide through an underwater passageway to obtain intelligence gathered by one of the Hearth’s operatives. Under the guise of nightfall, you all dove into the depths of the sea to head to the rendezvous point. You doubted it would be too difficult to make it past the perimeter lighting, so you didn’t give anything much thought as you swam ahead of the group.

Then it happened. All of a sudden, a hand yanked your arm back and began pulling you back to the surface. It was Freminet. And though you could not see his expression through the diving helmet, there was nothing that could describe his actions better than “panicked.” It irritated you at first, prompting you to fight back. In an odd bout of confidence, you didn’t see anything worth retreating over. But when he finally turned and pointed at your siblings floating lifelessly at your sides, you finally realized the urgency.

It was only when you both grabbed everyone and regrouped at the surface that you realized what occurred. There was a malfunction in the oxygen tubes causing an uneven distribution of gasses in the suits. If he didn’t warn you right then and there, you would have lost consciousness and died in the water with the rest.

When you all returned before the Director that evening, you spoke up before the rest could. You told her that the mission was terminated early due to an oversight on your part. Before your siblings could disagree, you sent them back to the orphanage, away from the Director. You didn’t think much of it. This wouldn’t have happened had you double checked the suits beforehand, so you didn’t mind taking the blame. Besides, you highly doubted the rest would care. No doubt they were relieved they would not have to be punished.

So imagine your surprise when you stumbled back to your bed hours later, bloodied and bruised, to find Freminet there with a first-aid kit in hand. The way guilt filled his eyes made you want to sneer. Such weakness would do him no favors as a child of the House. Not wanting his pity, you told him to leave. But instead, with gritted teeth, he refused. He wished to dress your wounds. And though you tried to explain to him that such niceties would earn him nothing, he still made no move to leave. However, exhausted and not willing to invest any more energy into him, you finally decided to let him be.

It was the first time your wounds ever healed so quickly.

You thought at first that would be the last of it, but every time failed missions left the back of your legs torn to ribbons, there he would be to wrap you up again. It reached a point you didn’t even argue with him anymore. You simply watched. When you finally asked why he chose to help you all the time, he answered back with something you didn’t expect.

“You sacrifice yourself for the other children of the House all the time. I’m… really thankful for that.”

You almost wanted to laugh.

“Sacrifice?” You echoed with a scoff. “I have no recollection of ever doing that.”

“Whenever a mission fails, you always take the fall for the team. You distract our instructors when they’re punishing others. You protect the younger ones when we’re in battle. If… that isn’t sacrifice, what is?”

You didn’t know how to reply to that. While he wasn’t exactly wrong that you did those things, it wasn’t for the reasons he purported. As the leader of missions, it was your responsibility for things to proceed as planned. Beating the children meant more failed missions. And the more people that got hurt on missions, the more work you’d have to do. But you knew there was no point in saying such things. You highly doubted he would believe you.

“Still. Taking care of me isn’t going to change anything. Being kind won’t change things for the better,” you finally responded, doing your best not to wince once he applied the antiseptic.

“I don’t know. Maybe things will.”

You didn’t respond after that. If there was one thing you did not do, it was associate yourself with people in denial. If being kind is what caused change, the House would’ve been a very different place ages ago. As it was now, the only way to survive was to put oneself first no matter what. Kind acts only got one hurt in the end.

And yet, on days you had nothing to do, you found yourself frequenting his company. It certainly wasn’t because you liked him. Perhaps you were curious or maybe you simply just wished to pass the time. If he wasn’t going to leave you alone whenever you were injured, you felt it would only be right to bother him during the moments he may have wanted his solitude.

“You don’t think they’re real, do you? Those fairytales,” you asked one day, peering over his shoulder to the book he held.

It wasn’t a question you’d ask just anyone. Even children had the ability to differentiate between fantasy and reality. Freminet, though, you weren’t too sure. You saw the way he’d speak to his clockwork creations. You noticed how he’d spend his spare change on new picture books. You knew he preferred to live in his mind, but you never knew the extent to which he did. As if reading your mind, he shrunk under your gaze.

“No, even I know the difference between fantasy and reality. I… I know some look down on them, but I find strength through stories like these.”

“Why?” You asked, unable to keep your mouth shut. “Aren’t you just using them to run away?”

He bit his lip.

“I… I don’t mean to…” He mumbled, shrinking even further.

You grimaced, doing your best to ignore the way guilt rose in your throat.

“No, I’m not… I’m not attacking you. I’m just trying to understand. If you think I’m wrong, just say so. I’m not going to get mad.”

Biting his lip, he glanced back down at his storybook. Then after gathering his thoughts, he turned his gaze to you once more.

“I… I think instead of running away, the worlds I read in fairytales help me to stay. They’re so different, but I feel connected to them, like they’re supporting me. And while I know they don’t exist here, I can’t help but feel they do somewhere out there. Knowing that helps me to try to live up to what they see in me by facing the world I live in.”

When you didn’t respond, though, his gaze turned to the floor once more.

“S-Sorry, I know it’s dumb–”

“I still don’t really get it, but…” You then turned to him. “If you’re saying they’re helping you to be stronger, I’ll believe you.”

If you had to be honest, you weren’t taking his words as easily as you seemed. Though you did have to admit that he was getting more forward over time, you couldn’t quite believe him fully as of yet. Using such fragile means as a crutch was still a form of running away, right? That was not even mentioning how he viewed the fairytale worlds as “real” in some way. Was this due to him not quite being part of the human world in the first place?

The more time you spent with him, the more you started to feel that perhaps he was not the person you initially believed him to be. Though still quiet and apologetic, you soon found out he didn’t exactly let you push him around. During moments you disagreed, you’d sometimes find his voice raising ever so slightly so as to insist his point be heard. Never would you have thought he had a stubborn streak to him, nor how much it would have bothered you.

“I knew what I was doing,” he told you one day as he laid in his bed.

Your hands shook in anger as they used gauze after gauze to clean the backs of his legs. Some lash marks cut deep enough that only stitches would keep them closed. Could you steady your fingers long enough to complete that? You didn’t know. You couldn’t think straight. You were itching to do anything but this. You wanted to punch something. Stab something. You knew who you wanted to bleed. But that’s not what was needed for you at the moment.

“If you knew what you were doing, you never would have ended up in this state. What were you thinking!?” You hissed.

“If I didn’t,” he began, “everyone else would have been punished too. Besides, don’t you do the same?”

You gritted your teeth, unable to stifle the growl that rose in your throat.

“That’s not the same thing,” you spat out. “We’re not the same, Freminet. You’re not like me. You’re not strong. Mother already has something out for you and now you do this!? Are you an idiot? You need to stop pretending like you’re something more. You are weak, just like the rest, so just stay in the basement hiding away with your fairytale friends and clockwork penguins and stop–” You caught yourself a moment too late. “Wait no, I didn’t mean it like that. I–”

Your wide eyes met his, both of you clearly not expecting the outburst. Yet when concern took over his expression and not anger, you found yourself confused. You couldn’t even move when he reached out his hand to brush something from your cheek.

“I’m sorry, First. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Before you had the chance to snap back, you finally felt it, the stray tear that was trailing down the left side of your face. You pulled back. You weren’t actually– But when another tear began to fall, this time on the right, you hastily wiped it and the rest that were starting to fall away.

“If you’re sorry, don’t do it again,” you finally mumbled.

But he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

No matter how much you argued with him that evening, he refused to let it go. He didn’t care if it meant gaining Crucabena’s attention. He didn’t mind that it resulted in him getting hurt. It made you wonder if perhaps you were at fault. If you didn’t keep seeking out his company, would he have ever conjured up such terrible ideas? How could he not see where you were coming from?

So upset you were with him that when he invited you out the next day, you said yes only for the chance it gave to yell at him away from the House’s walls and ears. Ever busy mentally preparing the lecture for him, you didn’t even notice when you found yourself at the docks with a diving suit in hand. Seeing the question in your eyes, he hesitated.

“I want to show you something. Just trust me.”

So steeling your gaze, you nodded and slipped on the diving helmet. After jumping into the water, he led you by hand down into the depths. Though you never noticed it before, it was interesting to see how seamlessly he glided through the water. Though there were many places in the deep that the currents tossed one this way and that, he navigated each stream with ease as if he instinctively knew which ones to take to get to his goal.

Eventually you finally reached a parting between the corals and seaweed where the light shined through. There the Romaritime flowers were in full bloom as blue and purple Tidalga danced along to the sides. Large pink clam shells could be seen in the distance with Lumitoile dotting the rocks. Instinctively you knew this was the place he’d come to hide during those times he was away from the House.

Pulling you to the middle of the clearing, he then let himself lay back upon the sand and looked up at the sky. In confusion, you followed suit and turned your gaze skyward. The sight was breathtaking. The clouds swayed with the movement of the waves as the sun’s harsh gaze softened within the waters. Colorful fish entered and exited your vision as if they didn’t notice your presence. Despite the symphony of sight dancing before your eyes, it was silent. Peaceful.

It was only when the sky began turning a warm reddish hue that you finally realized the time. It certainly wouldn’t do you both well to get back so late. But when you turned to your companion, his eyes were still on the sky as if transfixed. And when you nudged him to catch his attention, it took a few moments for him to come back to himself, as if finding ground within his body once more. And by the way he looked back longingly at the clearing as you swam away, it was clear he did not wish to leave.

When you both broke the surface and began to remove your diving suits, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. Did he know, you wondered, that this was where he belonged? That this was his real home?

“Is this where you go when you’re not on missions?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

He nodded.

“The underwater world is much simpler than the world of dry land. When I’m there, there’s no sound and everything is peaceful. I feel I can be myself.” He bit his lip before continuing. “I know you’re worried about me, but I’ll be okay. I… I may not be as strong as you, but from you, Pers, being able to come here… I’m able to draw strength to protect the people and things I care about.”

You didn’t understand. How could you? How was he able to draw strength from a place he could barely bring himself to leave? He instinctively knew that it was there that he belonged. Still… as much as confusion filled your mind, you couldn’t deny that resolute look in his eyes. As much as you hated it, he wasn’t going to listen to you. He was going to protect the things he cared about in any way that he could.

That being said, never did you imagine you would be one of those things.

It was after a mission one thunderous evening. There you stood before Mother reporting of your success as your siblings, your teammates, did their best to stifle sniffles and sobs beside you. It didn’t take Mother long to guess why. You were a team of five, after all. So whatever could have happened that you came back with only three in tow? The way Mother smiled so kindly sent chills down your spine.

“My children,” she began, her voice soothing like sandpaper, “Don’t be sad. Death is a fact of life. As it was, your sister simply was not strong enough to survive. There is no need to mourn the weak. The only pride to be found is in being strong. You must keep up with your training so you won’t end up like her, hm?”

You left the debriefing with the taste of ash in your mouth. You didn’t follow your siblings to the dining room after, nor to the living room. Instead, you went straight to your bedroom and sat upon the floor at the foot of your bed. In every way, the Director was correct. The only way to survive the House was by being strong. It gave no favors to the weak. And yet…

And yet…

“First?” A voice called out as a knock came at your door. Though you didn’t answer, the door slowly creaked open as a face peeked inside. Your eyes did not meet his, but he stepped inside anyway and closed the door behind him before taking a seat next to you, invading your privacy as he usually did.

“I brought you something to eat. You… must be hungry after your mission,” he stated as he placed a tray of bread and soup before you. But once again, you did not reply.

“Are… you okay? Do you… want to talk about it?” He asked.

You gritted your teeth.

“What is there to talk about? Another child falls prey to the House. Isn’t that just another Tuesday for us?” You asked, throwing your arms before you in irritation. “I told her to be careful. I told her to run at the first hint of trouble. But what did she do? When push came to shove, she came back. After I told her to run! And now look where that got her. Can’t even live to tell the tale.

“Why didn’t she listen to me!?” You asked as you ran a hand through your hair. “If she just stayed hidden like I told her to, she would have survived. I was handling the situation just fine. I didn’t need her. Why do weak people like her do that!? Try to act like they can do things? She should have just kept her head low and protected herself and– And–”

Your head dropped as your voice finally broke.

“She was only nine, Freminet.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, your shoulders shook as sobs began to wrack your form. You hated this. You hated this so much. You hated your siblings. You hated the House. But most of all, you hated yourself.

As he pulled you into his arms, you could only lean against him as you sobbed. “I couldn’t even stay there as she died. There were other people coming, so I… I left her there all alone. She had to die with nobody by her side. I couldn’t do a thing.”

That evening, he had no words to give that would console you. Instead, he simply held you, choosing to cry with you instead. After all, what else could you have done? What else was there left to say? Even though in the back of your mind, you knew you should have felt embarrassment and shame for being weak and crying before him so openly, you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. All you wanted was to be held.

From that day forward, the human warmth he gave so freely changed something within you. Often you would find yourself sitting next to him shoulder to shoulder. It wasn’t rare for you to find your way to his bed those evenings another orphan didn’t make their way home. It made you weak in a way you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. And neither did he.

He began to invite you to more things—reading together, tinkering with his clockwork creations, journeys into the sea. He began breaking the rules for you even more—sneaking you food when you were sent to your room without, distracting the instructors when you were to be beaten. You scolded him every time, and though he’d stand there and take it, never did he listen to you.

You became used to it, having him around. For the first time in years, you wanted to be with someone. It almost made it too easy to forget that he wasn’t like you. But you couldn’t. You wanted to ignore it, that he wasn’t strong. That he wasn’t built to survive. That the House wasn’t a place he belonged. You were always reminded of it whenever he brought you to the ocean. You saw it every time, after all, how he didn’t want to leave.

It made you curious in the kind of way that made your chest grow tight and your heart beat. When did you start feeling that Freminet was safe? That there was no need to put up any walls between you? That his presence calmed you in ways no one else could? You didn’t know when he started to have that effect on you, but it definitely happened longer ago than you would have liked.

But to ask him about the question that had been rolling in your mind for so long? Truthfully, though only he could ease your disquieting emotions, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know. You knew what the truth would mean for you and what it would entail. You didn’t know if you were ready for it.

It was only after many visits to the sea that your curiosity finally won out.

“Freminet, you always go back to the sea whenever you have the time. So… if you had the chance, would you stay there forever if you could…?”

As if your question caught him off guard, his eyes widened at the thought. Then, he glanced away so as to ponder your words. Ever so slowly, his eyes were drawn towards the sea. You wondered what it was like. He could not ignore its call even if he tried. But as if he suddenly remembered where he was, he blinked once, then twice. Then he brought his attention back to you once more.

“N-No. I’d leave you behind.”

You couldn’t ignore the way your heart warmed at his response. It was as much of a lie as you knew it to be, but still. If he hesitated for you, even just for a moment, you supposed you could be satisfied with that. At least you knew you had a place within his heart. But it planted a seed, didn’t it?

So you began to play with thoughts, treasonous thoughts, during your spare moments of peace. You knew it. Your siblings knew it. There was no future within the House. If death didn’t come already, it would eventually. You’d seen it many times, after all. The House’s hunger was not partial. It did not discriminate. It welcomed any orphan unlucky enough to cross its path and devoured them whole.

No matter what you did, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, you lost track of the amount of siblings you saw come and go. They simply were not fit for it, not strong enough to survive. In the depths of your heart, you truly wanted to save them, but how could you? There were no lands the Fatui did not touch. There was no place they couldn’t go. What was the point in running away if it was inevitable to be found?

But Freminet was different. You didn’t know much, but if there was anything you knew for sure, it was that Freminet did not belong in the House. Sure, none of your siblings belonged, but Freminet truly was different. He wasn’t a creature of the land. He belonged to the sea. As much as you tried to protect him, he deserved so much more than you could ever offer.

If he had his seal skin, you thought, he could leave. He could live at the bottom of the ocean and never return. He could swim away, far away from Fontaine, and never look back. And why would he? Even now the sea sang for him. It longed to be reunited. What child could resist that? Who would give up the chance of returning home?

It was around the same time you began to hear rumors of one of your sisters, the Director’s favorite. If you heard it correctly, it seemed she had her eyes set on revenge against the House. Though you didn’t know her personally, you heard she was the sole survivor of the “competition” the Director set with another orphanage to become King of the House. She was strong, much stronger than the rest of you.

But as much as you wished to hope, you knew the truth. The Director was a woman to be feared. Revolts had occurred enough times for you to know the chances of success were low. And the punishment? If only it was death. With the regular kids in the House, they were beaten until the moment before they lost the light in their eyes. Then they were wrapped up and thrown back into servitude the day after. The Director wanted the orphans to long one day for freedom. It only made beating them into submission more sweet.

But what of the child that she raised into a King? No doubt she was strong. It would be no less than a fight to the death. If the Director had to kill the king she raised so dearly, what would that mean for the rest of you? Would she embroil the current House into a competition for a new king? And if that were to come to be, what would happen to Freminet? There was no way he’d survive.

So what if you snuck into the Director’s room, you wondered. What if you reached into the trunk she kept at the base of her bed and stole Freminet’s seal skin away? She wouldn’t notice, right? Surely you would have enough time to give it back to Freminet. And if the Director did return from the duel to the death with your sister, by then it would be too late, wouldn't it? Freminet would be long gone, back to the ocean where he belonged.

As the days passed, you found yourself listening more and more to the whispers shared between the bloodied walls. You discovered more about your sister, how she was training flames of her will. How powerful she was becoming. You heard how the Director was soon planning to take a trip to Mont Esus East, a place she often visited when she was free. It wouldn’t be long now. The thought sent shivers down your spine. But unfortunately, you weren’t the only one on edge.

“First?” Freminet asked one of those days, shaking you from your thoughts. “Did I… do something wrong?”

The way worry reflected so clearly within those gray-blue eyes of his drew up guilt within your gut before confusion could settle in.

“N-No?” You blurted out. “Did I do anything to make you feel that way?”

He then bit his lip and glanced away. And if you didn’t feel guilty before, you certainly did then. He always was the sensitive sort. You didn’t know how much bugging it took on your part to finally get him to open up.

“It’s just… you’ve been distant,” he finally let out. “If I did anything wrong, you’d tell me, right?”

As he asked, his eyes met yours as if searching for something, but what, you didn’t know.

“Of course I would,” you replied softly. “I’ve just been… distracted.”

And at the very least, it wasn’t a lie. He truly did not do anything wrong. And you had been distracted. You had many plans you needed to set perfectly into play, after all. But never did you think he’d catch wind that something was off about you. You thought you were acting as you always had.

But whatever it was he was searching for within your eyes, he did not find. Pressing his lips together, his hands balled into fists as he looked away in frustration. Whatever answer you were supposed to give, it certainly was not the one he wanted. But ever the gentle person he was, he didn’t use his growing irritation to lambast you.

“But… is that all it is…? During your free time, you don’t spend as much time at the House anymore. There were times I’ve seen you trailing the instructors when they go out. You’ve even been eavesdropping on our siblings when they’re not watching. I just… Is there something going on that you can’t tell me? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Your jaw dropped in shock. Were you that obvious? Never did you think you were that bad at intelligence gathering. When did he notice all of that? And how in the world did he trace the cause to himself? But you couldn’t tell him the truth. If he found out what you were planning, he’d never let you go through with it. You knew that he would never let you take on something so dangerous just for his sake.

He then took your hands, avoiding your gaze.

“Am I that unreliable to you that you can’t trust me?” His voice cracked. “Is that why you won’t let me help you?”

Your mouth gaped as you tried to find something, anything to say. But what could you? There was no way he’d understand your motives. But the more you hesitated, the more hurt his expression became. When it became clear that you were not going to break, he dropped your hands and took a step back. The way his shoulders drew themselves in constricted your chest. And when a tear finally slipped from his eye, your breath froze in your throat.

“I-I see. I… I’m sorry for bothering you.”

As much as you wished to forget, sleep avoided your grasp that evening. An uncomfortable ache settled in your chest. No matter how much you tried, you could not forget the way his voice wavered as he bid you goodbye. He left the House soon after your disagreement, no doubt bound for the sea. Did he realize that it was approaching curfew? He certainly would be punished by the Director if he came back a second too late. Should you go out for him? Should you apologize and tell him the truth?

Even when he returned, your thoughts were on him. You couldn’t stop. He didn’t return to you the next day or the following, after all. As each day passed, you found yourself gazing ever more to your bedroom door waiting for him to enter. What was he doing? Was he spending his time in the ocean or amongst the fairy tale books in the library? Was he thinking of you? You knew this would all be fixed if you just apologized, but as much as you wanted to, you knew doing so required telling him the truth, and you couldn’t do that.

So as each day you clung to your pride and fear passed, an unsettling truth finally began settling in. When you give him his seal coat, he would leave for good, won’t he? He would never return. And then what would you do then? Here you couldn’t last even a few days without his company. But when he finally left, would you be able to go back to being alone? When was it that he began to matter so much to you?

And then that final thought sunk in. What if… What if you didn’t give him his skin? It wasn’t like he ever found out you were planning on retrieving it. He couldn’t be hurt by something he didn’t know. If you just protected him, he could be with you. He wouldn’t have to leave. You could do that, right? Protect him from the Director and the instructors. Couldn’t you make him happy? You could walk up to him and apologize and everything would go back to the way they used to be.

And for that matter, who’s to say that he even was a selkie. Here you were operating all this off of a private discussion you heard years ago. Even if instinct screamed against it, there was still a chance he was human like you. And if he was, then he would have no choice but to stay. With you. Forever.

But… that wasn’t the truth, was it? You couldn’t ignore it even if you tried. All the signs of his lineage were there from the very beginning. And regardless of what happened between the Director and your sister, things would change and you had no power over that. As it was, the sooner Freminet left, the better. Even if it meant being alone, even if it meant your death, at least he could go home.

As distracted as you were with your thoughts, though, the House certainly was not. They heard the stories of your sister and the revenge she sought. They saw the excitement slowly grow within the Director’s eyes. What was going to happen next? Who was going to win? The air in the House was thick with tension. Where the younger ones shivered in fear, the older ones shook with maddened anticipation. Greed could be seen seeping into the eyes of the many instructors.

When that fateful day came, war was going to strike. The ever mounting sins of the House and its descendants would suddenly topple forth burying alive those not strong enough to survive. Would the children of the House break free of their oppressor? Would another cruel leader take the Director’s place? Or would this be all for naught? It was hard to say.

But the moment the Director left for Mont Esus East, you knew you couldn’t dwell in your sorrows and second thoughts any longer. Gone was your chance of reconciliation. It was now the time to act.

So when the early hours of the morning came, you slipped from your bunk and quietly stalked through the orphanage. Though there were instructors meant to patrol, the silence of the night lulled their senses dull, letting you sneak into the Director’s room unhindered. It was simple, too simple, but you didn’t allow yourself to question it. And just as the instructors said, there was the chest sitting at the foot of the Director’s bed.

When you went to open it, you couldn’t help but swallow nervously upon peering inside. The chest was filled with an assortment of knickknacks the Director no doubt stole from the other orphans, but there in the corner was what you had been dreading to find, the seal skin. Reaching for it, you couldn’t help but gasp as your fingers brushed against it. It was soft, like thick velvet. And when you pulled it out, a small clockwork pendant fell from its folds.

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself softly when you picked it up. You knew Freminet was very young when he was brought to the House, but it seemed even before then he was interested in clockwork creations. How very much like him. It made you so… You wiped away your tears. The pendant in question seemed to be a music box of sorts. But not wanting to accidently awaken anyone, you instead placed it into your pocket.

With the most difficult part of your plan accomplished, you then made your way to Freminet’s room. After silently sneaking your way in, you gently shook him awake. While it took a few moments for him to gather his bearings, he froze when his vision finally cleared to see you. But before he could speak, you pressed your finger against your lips to quiet him. Then, after standing, you held your hand out for him to take.

The sun was barely beginning to peak over the horizon when you finally made your way to the sea. Though you could feel his confusion as you dragged him along, you kept quiet. It was only when you reached the docks that you finally allowed yourself to turn your gaze to him in full, ready to put an end to this. But when you saw him looking at you with those beautiful eyes of his, you found yourself unable to speak. After all, what was there to say?

“I… here.” You finally got out as you pushed the bundle in your arms to his chest. “I’m sorry for avoiding you. I’m sorry for keeping quiet. And… I’m sorry this took so long. It’s your seal skin. I heard the Director took it from you when you first entered the House, so I stole it back. You’re a selkie, right? With it, you can… you can go home.”

Suddenly remembered the pendant, you reached into your pocket and placed it into his hand. “I forgot. I found this too. It’s yours, right?”

You avoided his gaze as you spoke, subconsciously wrapping your arms around yourself at the end. Your fingers dug into your skin as anticipation slithered up your veins. Up until this point, nothing exactly felt real. Now that it was here, there was something you needed to do, something you needed to say, but no matter how much you tried to bid the words to your lips, only silence came out. Was it fear that you were feeling? Or was it regret? What could you say to make him–

“Freminet, I–”

But when your eyes finally shot out to him, mouth open to speak, you were immediately rendered silent by the look upon his face. With widened eyes, his mouth hung open as stared at the pendant. Ever so gently, his fingers brushed against the cogs and gears as his breath was caught in his chest. Words could not describe the myriad of emotions that passed through his expression—nostalgia, love, longing, pain, regret. And when his eyes fell upon his seal coat, his shoulders shook as he pulled the bundle close to his chest, tears overflowing. With that, you immediately knew you lost your chance.

Reaching out to him, you put your hand gently on his shoulder and forced yourself to say the words he needed to hear, “Freminet, I’ve said this before, but you don’t belong here. You never did. You belong out there in the ocean. That’s where your home is. Go away from here. Get as far away as you can. If you want to do anything for me, you’ll leave and never turn back. Never return. I want you to be happy for me, okay?”

When his shoulders began to shake, you felt your eyes fill with tears. Unable to bear it any longer, you turned away. But after taking a few steps forward, you paused.

“Goodbye, Freminet.”

With that, you walked away. As you strolled back to the House, though your chest ached even more, a small smile came to your lips. After all, you did a good job, didn’t you? You properly gave him his seal skin and encouraged him to return home. You didn’t beg him to stay. Sure, you didn’t see him off, but still, you did everything else properly. Now he was free to live life as he wanted. He would not be tied to the House anymore.

You had nothing to say as you entered the House and saw some of your siblings eating at the table. Nor did you react when a few instructors walked past you on your way to your room. And when you opened the door to your room, you ignored the random tools upon the floor and first aid kit sitting upon your desk. You didn’t bother with the abandoned clockwork penguin to the side. You simply crawled into your bed and tightly wrapped yourself in a blanket.

Was this what it felt like to be alone?

—

You awoke to the sound of a loud bang against your door. Jumping out of bed, you materialized your spear as you wiped aggressively at your swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The light of the setting sun peacefully streaming in from the window betrayed the ruckus coming from the House. Yelling and crashing could be heard down below, as well as cries from the younger ones.

Turning the knob of your bedroom door, you gasped as it swung open with the weight of someone leaning against it. Inwards one of your siblings fell as he clutched a bleeding wound at his abdomen. Gasping, you pulled him inside. He, however, did not seem to be concerned with his physical state. Instead, a wild grin was upon his lips. Grasping the lapels of your coat, he pulled you close.

“First, Mother is dead.” He laughed, coughing up blood. “That bitch is finally dead. Once we kill the other bastards, we’ll finally be–” He coughed again, this time with more blood from before prompting you to shush him.

After scrambling for the first aid kit, you lifted his shirt and examined the wound. He was stabbed by a sword. But before you could render first aid, another one of your siblings rushed in and closed the door behind her. Waving her over, you placed the first aid kit into her hands.

“Heloir, stay here and take care of Chapleau. Lock the door behind me when I leave. I’ll go check on everyone else. Stay safe, okay?”

After patting her head, you stood and exited your room. In comparison to the noise when you were awakened just minutes before, the House was eerily silent if not for the sound of whimpers and sobs down below. Making your way down the steps with your spear held out, the sight before at the bottom you told the answer why.

Bodies littered the ground of both orphan and instructor alike. Some of the younger ones could be seen crying as they did their best to render first aid to the group of older ones that were still alive. You swallowed as you took a step into the common room. Before, “Mother” forbade the killing of the orphans by the instructors. Had that all changed now that she was gone?

“So there’s one left,” came a snort behind you. Spinning around, you brandished your spear against the two instructors that walked out into the open. Though their clothes were torn in a few places, they were shockingly unscathed compared to the rest. The blood that was dripping from their swords implied what took place moments before. It seemed they couldn’t be in higher spirits. You gritted your teeth.

“Indeed. And there’s two left of you. You know, hiding to take over at the very end is a coward’s move,” you taunted with a grin.

They laughed brazenly.

“And what of you? You’re no different than us. All of you only want what Crucabena left behind.” The first one sneered.

Disgust filled your stomach. How repulsive. Was that all the orphans were to them? Someone to lord their rule over?

“Are you kidding me?” You asked in disbelief. “The only thing… The only thing we ever wanted was to be free!”

With that, you charged the instructors. Aiming towards the one closest to you, you swung your spear forward to which he deflected with a grin. Not letting that stop you, you charged forward and struck again and again, aiming to push him back. Not forgetting about his companion, however, you made sure to spin out of the way when she attacked from behind. Using your spear as leverage, you kicked her in the stomach, sending her careening back into a chair. However distracted for just that moment, the man nearly stabbed you in the gut, slicing through your coat instead.

It was a losing battle, you knew it well. Though the woman was slowly catching her breath, it wouldn’t be long before she made it back to her feet. Though you could fight, it definitely could not be said that you were the strongest child of the House. It wouldn’t be long before they overpowered you. The instructors were once orphans too, after all, trained under the watchful eye of “Mother” herself.

As you swung your spear forward to the one still on his feet, you couldn’t help but feel if not a bit of relief. You knew you would be facing death either way. Had Crucabena won, she would have killed you once she found Freminet gone. And had she lost, you certainly wouldn’t be able to hold your own against the instructors. But regardless, you still won. Though the House would deem you one of its victims, at least you saved the person that mattered the most. You could live with that.

So when you stabbed the man in the chest after he fell over the body of one of his comrades, you didn’t mind as you felt the sword from the woman slice you through from the side. Collapsing to your knees, your spear clattered to the floor as you clasped your hand over the wound. There was a wild look in the woman’s eyes as she yelled at you, but you couldn’t quite catch what she was saying. Was the man someone that mattered to her? You couldn’t help but laugh. After all they did to the children, what gave them the right to be so upset? And even more, what could she do to you?

But as she lifted her sword to inflict her final blow, she suddenly collapsed, falling to the ground before you in a crumpled heap. And when you looked up to see the culprit, it was the very person you expected last.

“Freminet…?”

His claymore dropped to the ground as he fell to his knees before you. Upon his face was an uncharacteristically furious expression as he used a knife to cut away pieces of your coat and shirt.

“Freminet, what are you–”

“First, please stop speaking.” His voice cracked as he spoke, and before long, tears began falling down his cheeks. But why was he crying? Did you cause that? And for that matter, why was he back? But as much as confusion bubbled within you, you obeyed his command and remained quiet. After patching you up with the first aid kit he ran to get from your room, he then helped you walk up the stairs and laid you in his bed.

“Stay here. I need to help everyone else.”

With that, he left you alone. As the sound of footsteps and talking began to travel from below, there you laid staring at the ceiling if not a bit confused. In the back of your mind, you were curious if this was all a dream. Why else would Freminet be back? He left, didn’t he? But if that was the case, how in the world were you lying in his room patched up? Unless the Hydro Archon wished you to die in peace, so she sent a happy memory before your last moments were up and now you were in purgatory.

And so your thoughts went as twilight began to progress into night. Even when a Fatui doctor came in and administered first aid, injecting you with a drug that made your eyes slide shut, you still didn’t quite believe it. And as your consciousness faded, you couldn’t help but be satisfied with this last dream given to you.

At least that’s what you thought until a throbbing sensation in your abdomen cut through the silence. It was not a sensation foreign to you. You were injured many times in the past during various missions. You knew the feeling that came about when the anesthetics were beginning to wear off. But… pain didn’t exist in dreams, right? So as you took a few moments to remember how you managed to get here in the first place—the revolt at the House, the face off with the instructors, then–

You immediately shot up into a seated position. Though the stitches upon your side nearly tore at the sudden movement, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were currently back in your room at the House, but the light of the morning sun was streaming through your window. How much time had passed since you fell asleep? Was it all over? And Freminet? Why did he come back? Was he alright? Was he–

Suddenly the door opened, causing you to jump. Rushing to your bedside was Helnoir, eyes wide in alarm.

“First, the doctors said you shouldn’t be sitting up this early! You should be resting!” She exclaimed as she pushed you back. Though your strength was meager, you did your best to resist.

“Now’s not the time for that!” You demanded. “What happened? What’s going on?”

With a grim face, she recounted all that happened the past day and a half. After it was announced that Crucabena was taken out, a revolt took place within the House between the older orphans and the instructors. Once the revolt came to an end, all eight instructors and four orphans were killed, while 14 orphans remained injured. The Fatui arrived a few hours later not expecting a bloodbath to have occurred, but quickly took charge. Apparently they were called to secure the House until another director was put in place, but arrived too late. But that wasn’t all you needed to know.

“And Freminet?” You asked hesitantly. “Is he… Is he really…?”

Helnoir paused in thought. “He’s helping out with the other kids right now. Do you want to talk to him? I can grab him if he’s free.”

Though your chest tightened at the thought of seeing him, you nodded. If you had to be honest, you didn’t know how you felt about all of this. After all you did, after all you went through, he came back. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. He had everything. He had the whole world before him, so why did he willingly walk back into hell? Were you furious? Panicked? Despaired? You couldn’t tell. Only seeing him would make sense of the storm going through your head.

But even after Helnoir left, Freminet didn’t come. Nor did he come the following days after. Then it occurred to you. When Freminet saved you from the instructor, he looked upset as he patched you up. He didn’t even want you to speak to him. But shouldn’t you be the one that was angry? What did you do that made him so upset? But if he was still upset, was that the reason why he wasn’t coming to see you?

So as you spent your days laying in bed recuperating, an uncomfortable sensation settled in your gut, the same one that came when you first refused to tell him your plans. It swished this way and that and only grew worse the more days that passed. That with the ache ever so present in your chest made you unable to eat much and you weren’t really sure you wanted to see him anymore. As upset as you were with him, what was the point in how you felt if you couldn’t receive his forgiveness?

So when you were finally cleared to leave your bed, it wasn’t to Freminet’s side that you went. Instead, far from it. Deep you delved into assisting the Fatui with various tasks like paperwork, missions, and the like. There was a lot to be done now that Crucabena and the instructors were gone, and you liked it like that. It kept your mind off of thinking and worrying. Even when some of the orphans would mention to you that Freminet wished to meet with you, you refused every time. It seemed that he was finally ready to see you, but you were not.

In the back of your mind, you knew how pathetic you were being. Never were you the type to give into fear, but the thought of speaking to him… It threw your stomach into knots. Not only did you make him sad and upset, but you also had no clue why he decided to return… or if he planned to stay. And that was the real crux of the issue, wasn’t it? He may have returned for a bit, perhaps due to some loose threads, but he had so much more for him waiting out there, more than what was here.

But wasn’t that a good thing? Wasn’t that what you wanted? For him to leave? Sure, the issues with the House may have been settled with the arrival of the higher ups in the Fatui, but that still didn’t mean all of its problems were solved. They were still waiting to see who would be appointed to take Crucabena’s place and if that person would be worse than her. No matter how much you thought about it, you couldn’t think up a single reason why he would stay.

As you sat at the foot of your bed in thought, you sighed. Flopping back, upon your bed, you rested an arm over your eyes. What a pain in the butt you were being. Absolutely pathetic. Since when were you ever such a sniveling coward, afraid of Freminet of all people? Whatever worries or fears you had, it wasn’t doing you any good avoiding them. So that meant you had to face them. Yes, you would have to speak to Freminet.

Standing up, you made your way out your room and down the steps. Not catching the familiar ashy blonde in sight, you waved down the nearest orphan.

“Foltz, do you know where Freminet is?”

He hummed in thought.

“I heard him saying he had to go somewhere. He had something in his hands too, but I didn’t catch what it was. Some kind of carpet, I think?”

His last words froze you still.

“A-A…” Your breath became short. Taking his shoulders, you looked deep into his eyes. “When did you see him leave? Be as specific as you can. Please, I need to know.”

Foltz, now a bit worried by your demeanor, squirmed as he hurried through his memories.

“Um, I don’t know. Maybe a few hours ago…?”

You were out of the door by the moment the last word left his lips. As you dashed to the beach, your heart thudded in your chest. If only you didn’t avoid him. If only you agreed to see him when he asked for you, then you would have… you… You soon came to a stop.

This… This was a good thing. It was a good thing that he took his seal skin with him. This was what you wanted. This was what you’d been planning for. You wanted to laugh. Why did you have to keep telling yourself that? What made you keep forgetting your goals so easily? Besides, no doubt Freminet fulfilled all his remaining wishes. He had no reason to stay any longer. The world was his oyster and it was about time he took it.

Yes, this was… Your hands balled into fists as the ache in your chest became even more pronounced. Him leaving was a good thing. He had no reason to stay, least of all for… for you. Even if you asked, he certainly wouldn’t…

You sighed.

Still, you supposed it wouldn’t hurt going to the beach just one more time. It had been a while since you went and you were missing the scent of the salt air. Besides, you were already over halfway there as well. It wouldn’t make any sense going back. And with the sun just starting its descent, the sight would no doubt be a welcome one after such a stressful past few weeks.

So when you finally made it to the beach, you definitely did not look around for an ashy blonde mop of hair. And when you walked upon the sand, you did not gaze at the horizon for five minutes, ten minutes, even longer waiting. But when you finally made your way to the shoreline and felt the gentle waves lap against your feet, you finally had to admit it. You bit your lip as your eyes fluttered shut.

He was gone–

“First?”

The sound of that familiar voice dried up any tears as you looked up in shock. There, waist deep in the water, was Freminet. His eyes were wide as he looked upon you, no doubt just as surprised as you were. And in his hands was not what you expected to see, but a diving helmet. Was he simply swimming for the past few hours? And if so, why not with his seal skin? But more importantly…

“Why… are you still here?”

The words came unbidden from your lips before you could stop them. But still, you couldn’t stop the confusion from welling up within you.

“I… I gave you everything you needed,” you began with a disbelieving laugh. “I set everything up perfectly. You had no reason to stay. There’s nothing left for you here. So why–”

“Why… do you keep treating me like that?”

His words brought you to a pause.

“What do you mean?”

Though he was looking away, upon his face was the same furious expression he showed you when he found you on your knees bleeding out from your side.

“Why do you treat me as if I don’t know any better? Like I can’t decide things for myself?” Tears began to drip down his cheeks. “You… always decide things for me without ever listening to what I have to say. I just… How could you ask me that? Why I’m still here?” After a moment of gathering his composure, he then finally looked at you, hurt and anger clear in his expression.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know, First? That Mother would have had you killed had she found out what you did? Didn’t you think about how I would have felt if that happened? If I didn’t come when I did, you… you would have…”

He had to pause as a sob ripped through his throat.

“I’m not a child, First. I knew everything that was going on. I knew about the planned revolt. Didn’t… Didn’t you think we could have worked out something together? That we couldn’t have protected each other? Is that how unreliable I am to you?” His head then dropped as his voice cracked. “Is that why you keep trying to get rid of me?”

Panic jolted through your system as you reached out to him hesitantly. You did this. You made him upset with you. You caused him to cry. You had to fix it.

“N-No, I… I was just…”

But he didn’t want to hear it.

“You told me to go home, but where is my home if not with you?”

You squirmed as your breath grew short.

“B-But–”

He then looked into your eyes, pain evident between the falling tears.

“Don’t you want me?”

That did it. Before you knew it, hot tears began to roll down your cheeks. And when you parted your lips, a pathetic hiccup erupted. Your chest heaved with every short breath you took. Why didn’t he get it? Wasn’t it obvious? Everything you were doing you did for him. Why did he have to put you on the spot like that? Didn’t he realize it was already difficult enough letting him go?

“I… I was just trying to do the right thing,” you finally got out between sniffles and sobs.

And that’s what it boiled down to, didn’t it? That was the truth. Regardless of how you felt, regardless of any damage to you, all you wanted was to keep him safe. To give him a way home. Wasn’t that all that mattered?

As you scrambled wildly to defend yourself, excuses continued to pour from your lips. “My mother always told me that selkies were creatures of the sea. They don’t belong on land. And with everything that was going to happen in the House, I just… I wanted you to be happy.”

Your head dropped as you wiped furiously at your tears. Guilt clawed its way up your chest, aiming to pull you into the depths. You always thought you were doing the right thing, but was this how you were making him feel instead? Though a part of you still argued that he simply did not know what was best for him, you could no longer deny the truth. That was not your decision to make. It never was yours to make.

As you felt yourself collapse into yourself, cold hands soon pulled away your hands hiding your face prompting you to look up. Though tears still fell from his cheeks, he was not furious anymore. Instead, upon his lips an exasperated smile as he let out a watery laugh. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“But I’m happiest with you.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but the way those words cradled you in warmth broke something within you. Suddenly that tension and ache you felt in your chest released at that very moment as a new wave of tears flooded your eyes. You knew he really shouldn’t feel that way, that there was nothing to gain from staying by your side. For his sake, you didn’t want him to stay. And yet, deep down, he said the very words you had longed to tell him for such a long time.

“I… I didn’t want you to leave,” you finally got out. You could no longer stop the words of truth pouring from your lips. “Those days away from you were so lonely. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-I just wanted…”

He then pulled you to his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s okay, First. I know. It’s okay.”

It took a while for the both of your sniffles and sobs to simmer down. By the end of it, the front of your clothes were soaked from hugging him so tightly within the water. And now as you sat gazing at the sunset, eyes swollen and holding his hand upon the sand, there was a certain lightness in your chest that you hadn’t felt for a long time.

“Foltz said you took your seal skin with you when you came here, but where is it?” You asked, awkwardly doing your best to make conversation after crying before him so openly.

“O-Oh, that? I brought it and stored it in a chest at our place in the ocean. I… thought it would be the safest there.”

The way he said it so simply jolted you back slightly in surprise.

“You’re storing it? Have you not used it once since I gave it to you?”

He shook his head with a hesitant smile.

“When you gave it to me, it was the first time I heard the sea calling out to me so loudly. I… I wanted to go so badly. It was like every part of me was being pulled to the sea. If I didn’t think of you, I probably would have left,” he admitted hesitantly. “Whenever I’m near it, the desire grows stronger.”

You frowned upon hearing that.

“You don’t need to stay for me. If you left, I… I would miss you, but I wouldn’t blame you for it. Selkies are creatures of the sea, after all.”

He looked down upon the sand as he bit his lip trying to find the words to respond.

“I… don’t doubt that I would be happy there for a time. I always feel most at home in the water. But…” He then looked up at you. “That’s only when you’re by my side. If going to the ocean means giving up you, it’s not worth it. The place I belong is with you.”

Feeling a new wave of tears come on, you glanced away.

“Stop it! You already made me cry enough today. You’re beginning to make me think I’m just as much of a crybaby as you are,” you grumbled before standing. “Everyone at the House is probably wondering where we are. Let’s go before they come looking.”

Laughing softly to himself, Freminet stood and began to follow you. But before he got far, a soundless voice called out to him. Turning behind, there was the sea with its gentle crashing waves lit up with the wondrous red and yellow hues of the sunset. As always, there it beckoned him—sweetly, lovingly, achingly. How it longed to be reunited. But in return, he gave it a simple and kind smile. That’s all he would give. Then he turned away from the ocean, away from its gentle call, and made his way back to you.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

So of course we've all seen the smut where the ghoul eats you out while on your period...... and my question is this...... do you think that is strictly the ghoul thing? Because of the cannibalism? Or did Cooper prewar already have his red wings? He seems the type to do ANYTHING to make his girl feel better if you catch my drift. Just a thought 😂🤭

It's absolutely not just a cannibalism-related thing; while, ironically, I don't really see Prewar!Cooper Howard as someone who would really enjoy the iron-heavy taste of blood/very rare meat/game-type meat all that much, you are 110% correct in saying that he would do anything to make his partner feel better.

Plus, he's just a munch in general. If he wants to eat pussy, he wants to eat pussy now, not in 4-7 days. It being a little medium-rare doesn't bother him at all.

I didn't intend for this to end up this long. I just sat down to answer this ask real quick and suddenly I had like 2,500 words. I guess you could call it a spiritual prequel to "Bloodletting".

There are a lot of things you don't enjoy about being a person who menstruates. There are also a lot of things you don't enjoy about living in California, namely the summers with their unforgiving heat and brain-frying sun.

Menstruation in the California summer is downright unfair.

After a long day of enduring your body's seemingly intense resentment towards you, you feel disgusting when you finally make it to the home you share with your fiance and immediately drag yourself into a scalding hot shower. Cooper often likes to joke that you're trying to boil yourself in there, playfully chastise that it isn't good for your skin, but the way the heat seeps into your sore muscles is like a siren's call. Once the tap runs cold, you begrudgingly dry yourself, pulling your damp hair up and away from your neck and shoulders before rummaging through the medicine cabinet for something to hopefully ease the ache in your cramping abdominal muscles.

Too tired and sore to worry about scrounging up any food, you throw your still lightly-damp, nude body into your unmade bed and pull the top sheet around you. Normally, the thing would be nicely made before you left the house for the day, but since Cooper left long before you and it fell to you to do the making today, it simply hadn't happened. Cranky, you offer the sleeping dog curled up at the foot a few scratches on his sweet head before closing your eyes and getting in a short, fitful nap.

The familiar jangle of Cooper's keys in the front lock tugs you out of the dreamless void you'd fallen into at some point, and you smile briefly as you hear Roosevelt scuttle off from where he'd been watching over you towards the door. After a moment, you can hear the garbled greetings the older man gives his furry companion, the first step in his homecoming routine, with which you are now intimately familiar. The next step is to shed his boots and jacket, then to drop his keys and the mail on the small table inside the door.

"Honey?" he calls, footsteps moving your way. The two of you spoke on the phone around lunch and he had received a rather generous earful of your complaints.

"I'm here." you respond, turning to face the ceiling groggily as he enters.

"My poor sugar." he laments, the mattress sinking on one side as he sits down beside you, one warm hand patting your back sympathetically. Roosevelt sits briefly beside the bed, watching you curiously, but Cooper dismisses him to his bed in the living room softly, and the dog obeys quietly. "I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick. Can I get you something to take first? Or the hot water bottle, maybe?"

"I already took something, I'm just waiting for it to kick in." you reply, eyes closed as you try to soothe your abdominals with the warmth of your bare hands. "I would take the hot water bottle if you're offering, though."

You cuddle the warm sack of rubber he fetches for you, holding it snug against your stomach under the top sheet as you listen to the sounds of him quickly hopping into and out of the shower. When he emerges, you can see a faint amount of steam seep into the bedroom, as opposed to the thick clouds that typically roll out when you're finished.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning down to kiss at your bare shoulder.

"Eh, sort of." you respond, smiling at the feeling of his lips on your back. The tickling feeling combined with the smell of his body wash encompassing you makes you clench a little, which both fans the low-burning coals in your gut that always smoulder around him and makes another cramp rip through you, sending you whining.

"Aww, poor thing." he coos, petting at your leg and knee. "Did you try anything else?"

"The stuff I took earlier is working okay, and the water bottle is nice." you say, setting the thing aside as you sit up to look at him. There's just a touch more white in the salt-and-pepper of his sideburns now than there was when you originally met him, but you find it very appealing. "I just wish everything wasn't so tight and tense, you know?"

"I hear you." he says, lips moving along your forehead. "I could try making you feel better, if you'd let me."

You chuckle in response, tossing yourself down flat in a dramatic display of exhaustion.

"If you can figure out how, be my guest."

Your words bring a massive grin to his face, and suddenly he's planted himself down between your knees, hands running along your inner thighs and rapidly up towards your mound.

"Cooper, what're you--" you begin, but he cuts you off with a gentle shushing and a light massage to your tight thigh muscles.

"Just lie back and let me help you." he says, lying down flat with his shoulders right even with your knees. He peppers kisses from your navel, down the little trail of soft, downy hair that leads to your mons before ghosting his lips back and forth, back and forth across the skin. It raises goosebumps on your skin almost instantly in anticipation.

"Honey." you huff as another cramp balls up in your middle at the sensation. "Don't tease."

"M'sorry, my girl." he apologizes. "I'll make it better."

Only a moment later, you're crying out as he spreads you open gently with his hands and finds your aching little bud with the tip of his tongue. He doesn't like rare meat all that much, from what you've seen, so you're not sure how crazy he is about the taste of blood, but he doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue fully along your wet, sensitive slit, using the wriggling muscle to worship every inch of you until your vision is full of stars.

The tension in your abdomen increases as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm, your legs quickly moving up to wrap around his head of their own accord, holding him tight in place with his lips and tongue against your clit. Eventually, you feel his fingers gently swiping around your entrance, and the gasp that leaves you when he slips two of them inside of you is echoed by a low groan from your partner. Your hands are knotted tight in the disheveled sheets, your hips bucking and grinding against Cooper's face like they have a mind of their own.

The rhythm he's playing against your bud increases as you whine and cry out his name again, and by the time he's made you cum for the third time, he's visibly grinding his hips against the mattress, licking and sucking at your skin until you tug on his hair for mercy.

His lips and chin are streaked in scarlet as he pulls himself back up, grinning down at you as he pivots to settle on his hip beside you, his warm, softly calloused hand hand still stroking your thigh lovingly as you ride out your last few scant shivers.

"Feel any better now?" he asks as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. You roll your eyes playfully, kicking softly in his direction, only to be undercut by him seizing your foot in his hand and peppering it with kisses, making you squeal with laughter.

"Alright, I feel a lot better." you admit when you finally calm down. You sit up a ways, nuzzling beneath his chin, planting wet kisses there and feeling him shiver in response. "But I still think you should have to split these stupid things with me. Or find a way to stop them, maybe. Write some scientists a check or something."

"Oh, I can stop them, sweetheart." he says bawdily, tucking his chin to tease your throat with his tongue as your hand moves to rest on his cheek. "For about a year, a least."

The hand resting on his cheek moves to the back of his head, threading into the thick, dark hair there and gently pressing there to usher him down towards you until your lips meet once more. He knows this is a hot button for both of you, and you want to chastise him for being such a tease. However, your mind is too foggy.

As he leans further towards you, tongue pushing deeper into your mouth, your hand is finally able to find what it's been seeking. His erection is already throbbing in your grip as you stroke him through his boxers, a groan seeping through his nostrils as he pulls back from your kiss. Despite this, you hook your leg around his hip the best you can, attempting to tug him back down between your legs.

"Coop." you whisper, pushing your hips at his.

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart." he says, eyes clenched as tight as his sudden grip on the bed sheets curled around his left hand. You know he wants to fuck you, that he needs to cum after everything he's given you; the evidence is in your hand. However, you also know he'll deny himself for your sake.

"Let me take care of you." you whisper, lips tracing along his throat as your hand continues to work him, concentrating your movements towards the tip and earning a genuine whimper from him. The throaty, vulnerable sound from him makes your entire gut clench, and your lips latch onto his stubbly throat, your tongue lathing his freshly bathed skin.

"I took care of you because I wanted to help you feel better. I don't need anything in return." he replies, his voice low and quiet as he strains to keep it even.

"I want you to feel better, too."

Your hand is fully stroking him again, and by the time you notice the growing wet spot near your hand, he's leaning down and forcing his tongue back into your mouth, sighing contently as he pulls himself back between your legs. One hand softly kneads your left breast, his weight balanced on his elbow and knee as he works his shorts down, kicking them off the foot of the bed absentmindedly.

A subconscious sigh leaves you as you drink in the sight of him, his leaking cock laying, flushed red and painfully hard, against his toned stomach. Trying your best to ignore the way he smirks at you, easy as you wrap your legs around his hips, his hand moving between you to guide himself teasingly along your entrance. You sigh his name when the head of him finally catches and sinks fluidly into your warmth.

Your tense pelvic muscles ache in protest for a passing moment as they adjust to him, to his weight pressing into you, but as you breathe deep, the stretch eases away some of the strain, leaving you sighing with relief as he begins to gently fuck you.

He's soft and slow to begin with, watching your face closely as you adjust to him, burying his face in your neck and latching onto it with his lips as you finally take him to the hilt.

"Oh, Cooper." you sigh, gripping hard at his shoulders as you grind your clit against his pubic bone, the soft texture of his pubic hair adding to the mountain of sensations he's making you experience. "I needed this so bad."

Your admission seems to only fuel him, groaning as his fingers move to strum at your clit again, pressing practiced circles around the swollen little nub just like you'd shown him to do. The rough feeling of the small callous he has on his trigger finger drives you absolutely mad with pleasure, making you tighten around him as you cry out.

"Fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day." he confesses in a low, hushed tone as his hips continue to slap against yours, still mindful of where his weight is placed over you, but growing steadily more forceful in his movements. Soon, he has you built up into a sweaty mess, crying out for more of his touch, more of him in general as he holds your hips tight.

"I'm gonna cum, Coop." you pant, face red hot and damp as the rest of you as he continues to work back and forth between your thighs. The sudden feeling of his white teeth, sharp and strong, digging into the crook of your neck makes you whimper, and the sound seems to teleport him right to the exact same spot you're in.

"Shit, me too." he hisses, lips and tongue still attacking your neck as his hips quickly lose their rhythm, driving hard into you once, twice, three more times before he pulls back and shoots his load all over your soft stomach, growling like a wild animal as jet after jet of thick, sticky cum coats your flushed skin.

Once you've both come down from your high, you wiping pitifully at your sweaty face as he extracts himself from you as gently as possible, hand threading through his damp hair, you both chuckle, lying on your sides facing one another at the foot of the bed, catching your breaths. He grabs for your hand like he always does after you make love, holding it snug in the palm of his own as you bask in the afterglow.

The only difference now is that there's an engagement ring on your hand for him to play with. Seeing it on you seems to make him swell with pride, and that makes you feel warm inside.

"How does a nice, hot bath and some takeout sound?" he asks eventually, running his lips along your forehead as his hands massage at your lower back.

"Sounds amazing." you smirk, pulling back a few inches to look at him mischievously. "But I already had a super long, hot shower when I got home. Is double dipping allowed?"

Smirking at your coy playfulness, he pulls you up into his lap and snug against his chest, both of you wincing slightly at the slick, wet feeling of the mess all over both of your stomachs. The man never fails to produce quite a bit.

"Normally, I'd say no." he fires back matter-of-factually. "But considering the circumstances, I'll allow it this one time."

"You did make quite the mess." you chastise, but your words are quickly interrupted by him quickly snatching you up, hefting you into the air as he takes a moment to balance you both before making his way into the en suite bathroom.

"Well, one could argue that the mess is at least partially your fault, but I'm willing to take responsibility for my part and help tidy you up." he chuckles as he carries you towards the tub. "I'm very thorough in my cleaning."

"Promise?" you chuckle suggestively.

"Promise." he winks.

[mysticmikalla]

I don't know if you take any kind of requests but if you feel like it could you maybe write about how you think the bachelors would react to you asking them to marry you? 🥹

I am always honored to take requests!! Thank you for being my first, I hope I do it justice!

**

The Stardew Valley bachelors’ reactions to being proposed to

**

Harvey

Harvey did not know what to do with himself at first. Did he gently accept the deep blue, shiny pendant from your hands and hang it around his neck? Or should he pull you in for a kiss instead, breaking apart only so he could attempt to express how much he loved you? ... Or perhaps just a simple yes, with excited promises about the future? Or maybe all of the above, in that order?

He didn’t do any of those. Instead, he stepped closer to you until he was close enough to engulf you in a hug, a little tighter than normal, hiding a silent tear that he could not help but shed while softly murmuring his answer against your hair.

Shane

He would’ve never guessed that the farmer that took up that old farm would be lying in bed next to him, gazing up at him with such a look in your eyes that made him feel like he was the only person in the world who mattered. And as unfamiliar as that feeling was, Shane felt it. He mattered, and it you had just made it clear wasn't temporary. He did feel a little afraid, however, of what came after - the moving in together, the possibility of kids, of sickness and health, and he did not want to disappoint you. But that, he decided, was a worry for the future. So for now, he wasn’t going to let you down. He took your face in his hands and smashed your lips together, taking advantage of the fact that you were already in bed and barely clothed to show you how much he meant his yes.

Sam

He already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Sam just... took things one day at a time. He was never one to look too far into the future. So when he was playing with your fingers, absentmindedly while he went on one of his tangents instead of finishing a story he was telling you, you pulled the pendant out and set it on his lap, waiting to see how long it would take for him to notice it. And it look a while - so long that you couldn’t contain yourself, and nodding down to his lap, you said, “Sam, look.”

He stopped talking to follow your gaze, and resting on his lap was your promise to spend the rest of your life with him, if he'd have you. He stood up, pendant in hand, prompting you to do the same, “Is this…? Actually?!” Then he would pepper your face with kisses, “Do I even have to say it? Yes, yes, yes.”

Sebastian

He had never kissed you quite as passionately as he did then. When you were straddling him, a make out session well underway under the cover of the dim lights in his room, his hands on your back, under your shirt, and your hands tangled in his hair, out of breath… The feeling had consumed you then, and as good as kissing him felt, you pulled away for a moment, and as easy as if you had already said it, you murmured, “Marry me?”

Sebastian never thought he cared much for marriage, but he longed for this. To be your only one, to be the one someone finally chose. And that’s when he kissed you again. He nodded wordlessly, pulling your head back in to meet him again, intensely, deeper than before, as if he wanted you to taste his answer on his lips.

Elliot

At that point in your relationship, Elliot had already purchased the pendant. He had been sure of this for a while now, only waiting for the right time to ask you the most important and yet the easiest question of his life. He never imagined that you dreamed the same - as when he took you for your usual walks along the shores, admiring the golden glaze of the setting sun over the sand, you also had an item most precious in your pocket.

At first, when he looked at you, he thought it was a reflection of his own feelings in your eyes. And then his own fell to your hands, where they stretched out a beautiful blue pendant. Elliot never thought he’d be rendered speechless at a moment like this. All he could do was reach for his own pendant and place it on top of yours, and then finally he would say, “In any and all lifetimes, I’ll say yes.”

Alex

Because he was raised a certain way, Alex always expected he was going to be the one to propose. The excitement of buying a pendant and hiding it from you, the planning out a date that was romantic but not-so-romantic that you’d suspect it, the getting down on one knee and asking you to make him the luckiest man alive… It was corny, he knew, but that’s how he saw it happening.

And maybe you two were too alike, because you were the one to buy the pendant, the one who planned the date and the one who got down on one knee. He was genuinely shocked when he saw you, “Are you serious?” Was the first thing he managed to say before joining you on his knees to look you in the eye, “Are you actually… are you serious? I was going to… I mean, yes, but that was my line!”

[pxperplxnets]

fanfics and besties (platonic)

summary: y/n, paul and kimi read fanfictions about them.

pairing: kimi antonelli x driver!reader x paul (entirely platonic)

word count: 618

warnings: none

lowercase intended!

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

y/n couldn't breathe of laughing so hard.

her and her two best friends, paul and kimi were currently laughing at her phone, where a fanfiction about them was projected.

look, they didn’t normally read that kind of stuff, but when she was answering dms and stumbled upon it, she had to show them.

the title read ‘wars for y/n’ and she quickly realised it was about the two boys fighting for her. she found that to be the funniest thing someone could ever tell her, because the guys would never see her that way, they were all basically siblings at that point.

“y/n is mine, kimi, and i recommend you to back off if you don't want something to happen to you on the race” paul read in between laughs, trying his best to sound serious. “never, that pretty girl is mine!” the three of them exploded in laughs as kimi read “pretty girl?” paul asked, going red with laughter “who talks like that?” y/n questioned, trying to breathe.

pablo passed by them, looking at them funny for the way they were laughing. the three sat on a couch that was barely big enough, y/n in the middle and the two guys on the sides, close to her to be able to see the phone. the engineer laughed, pulling out his phone to record the interaction.

“okay, okay, keep going” kimi said as he regained his breath “i’ll be damned if i let you have her” paul continued, making his best ‘book man voice’, how he described it earlier “you will not let me, as she already is mine” kimi tried to deepen his voice “i do not belong to anyone!” y/n read dramatically, swaying her arm and accidentally hitting paul’s face, making them laugh once again. “b-b-but y/n! i burn for you!” kimi exaggerated the stuttered “not the bridgeton quote” y/n wheezed, making them laugh harder.

“you are the object of all my desires!” paul exclaimed, making a recovering y/n explode again “bro this is just plain plagiarism!” the girl rolled off the couch, hitting her head on the floor and causing the boys to laugh even harder.

they continued reading for a while until they all got the same notification.

‘prema_team tagged you in their story.’

y/n opened it on her phone, smiling at the screen once she saw the video of them laughing.

‘only laughs at the prema headquarters @paul_aron @kimi.antonelli @y/nthecoolkid’

later that day, the trio sat on the same couch. both of the boy’s head rested on each of her shoulders as she scrolled on tik tok, liking and commenting on edits that the fans made.

she moved onto instagram, answering dms and sending them a picture of the three, knowing that edits would come out of the recent content.

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

bonus!!

“you do not burn for me and i'm not the object of your desires” y/n defended, shedding a tear at the confrontation. “you only want me because you do not want each other to have me” her words struck them like lightning. was she right?

“b-but y/n, i-” kimi was cut off by the sound of a car roaring next to them. sebastian climbed his way out, taking his helmet off as a gust of wind moved his hair. “y/n, i’ve come to save you from these greedy men!” his voice made her smile as she climbed into his car “goodbye, boys! i hope i can see you again.” sebastian handed her a helmet and as she put it on, he drove into the sunset, leaving paul and kimi standing by themselves, looking longly into the distance.

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

authors note:

i have no idea what this is but i laughed while writing it so thats good.

hope you like it<33

REUPLOAD

[hopelesslyromanticgay]

An Americano, Please? Part 3

Word count: 1.3K A/N: Just an FYI, I don't usually upload twice a day, I just felt particularly inspired today. As always, italics in quotation marks signify the speaking is using romanian dialect.

Y/N's POV:

I gotta admit. It hurt when Jenna didn't send me a text immediately. It's been two days, and still nothing.

Maybe it was a meaningless banter. Oh well. I guess I just really thought something could come out of it.

"What are you sulking about?" Nessa asks me one day after our shift. 

"I'm not sulking, I'm just a little sad because I didn't get a text from someone," I explain, "It's not like she owed me a text or anything, but I don't have to be ecstatic over the fact that she hasn't done so."

"Oh my god, you're into the American one," Nessa exclaims, "I knew it! I mean, she's gorgeous. Like if I were into girls I would definitely be into her." I take a sip of my cortado (half espresso, half milk) as I listen.

"Well in any case, she's probably not interested."

"Stop sulking, Y/N," Nessa scolds me, "Let's do something fun. Gotta get your mind off of this girl."

Since our shift just ended, and we have a whole afternoon ahead of us, Nessa and I take her car to Predeal, the closest thing to a modern city we have around here.

It's about seven miles, so about twenty minute drive. The town's mostly filled with ski resorts, but there's a few fun places to shop.

A great deal of the afternoon is spent sitting outside a store judging the tourists. 

"Oh my god she's probably saying something stupid like, 'I know it's winter but my husband will love this hawaiian T-shirt I bought in Romania,'" Nessa mimics the normal thought process of the typical tourist.

"This guy's even worse though,"  I stifle a laugh, mocking his actions.

After a thorough mockery of all of the Predeal tourists, we head back to our town, content with our afternoon.

I still haven't stopped thinking about Jenna, though. I wish I could have gotten to know her better. It's so nice to finally have someone I can talk to in English.

All I can do is hope that she comes back to the shop. Even then though, she probably won't want much to do with me.

Nessa drops me off at my apartment, waving goodbye. Almost instantly, I shed my winter coat, relieved by the warmth of the building.

The first thing I do is turn on the TV and open Netflix. A new baking show just dropped, and I'm not the type to turn down new entertainment.

The show turns out to be a combination of baking and engineering. It seems cool, but it's hard to tell from the first episode.

My phone lights up with a bright reminder Remember to feed Cupid!

Sighing, I get up from the couch and grab my fish flakes.

Cupid is my purple betta fish. She's about a year old and as of yet hasn't had too many health issues, which is super lucky for both of us. She's at the point where she recognizes my face. So when I go up to the tank, fish feed in hand, she eagerly swims up to the glass.

"Hey Cupid," I laugh, sprinkling some food into the tank.

After feeding her, I head back to the couch, where I continue watching my cooking show. Before I know it, I'm five episodes in and the sun is starting to set. I look out of the window, trying to gauge the temperature and weather condition.

It's a fairly clear twilight right now. There's a good chance I'll get to see stars tonight. Actually, I've decided I will see stars tonight.

I don my winter coat and make my way down the apartment complex stairs. One of the perks of not living in a huge city is that I can see the night sky beautifully.

One of my favorite places in town is on the outer edges of it. At this point, all of the buildings are housing, be it apartments or actual houses. The long stretches of pavement are perfect for strolling down while admiring the night. 

Not a lot of people choose to come out here late at night, which is honestly their loss. I wouldn't necessarily say I'm super into nature and the great outdoors, but when I am outside, I can find an appreciation for my surroundings.

So that's how I found myself strolling the streets of Bușteni Romania, not looking at the cement in front of me.

BAM! I find myself crashing into another person, almost knocking both of us over.

"Fuck, I am so sorry," I find myself defaulting to english, "I- I mean, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

"Y/N?" A familiar voice asks.

"Jenna?" It may be dark, but I can just barely see the details of her face. God I hope she's not mad.

"Yep, it's me," I hear her faintly laugh.

"Are you okay? I almost knocked you over."

"I'm okay, just a little rattled."

"Sorry for that again," I apologize, "I should have been watching where I was going." 

"You could make it up to me by walking me to my apartment?" she offers.

"I'd like nothing more," I laugh, linking my arm with hers and we start to walk.

"So, Y/N, tell me about yourself," she starts the conversation.

"Well, my name's Y/N L/N, I work at a coffee shop. I speak English and Romanian, which is useful for when people like you come to the shop."

"I know that stuff," she interrupts me, "what do you like to do outside of work?"

"You know, the normal things, be around the people I care about, watch shows, I read sometimes, listen to music, that kind of stuff. What about you?"

"Well for starters, I'm Jenna Ortega, I also love to read and listen to music," she tells me, "I also like to write though, I have like, twenty scripts and stories sitting in my FinalDraft™ folder."

"Damn, you must really like writing," I respond, "that's pretty awesome."

"I guess so," she shrugs.

"Have you ever considered publishing your work?" I ask.

"Yeah, I actually published a book called It's All Love," she answers proudly.

"That's like, the coolest thing anyone's said to me all day," I tell her.

"I guess I'm just a cool person," she jokes, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, only an arrogant person would say that."

"No, you have reason to say, it. You're a published author, the lead in a TV show, and fun to talk to. Don't discredit your own awesome-ness." 

She laughs, "thanks for saying that."

"Sure thing." 

"So, does your offer to take me around town sometime still stand?" she changes the subject.

"I'm a woman of my word, Jenna, if you still want a tour, you have my number," I remind her, trying to sound kind and cool at the same time. Which is kind of challenging.

"Oh my god, I forgot to text you, didn't I," she gasps, "I'm so so sorry, Y/N. I've just had so much going on." She starts to talk herself into a panic, "I have work for like, eight hours a day, plus cello lessons, plus german and fencing, it's just so much." If I had known how busy she was I never would have felt so hurt. That must be so overwhelming.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm not mad about it." Which is true. 

"That's such a relief," she exhales, "again, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, Jenna, it's okay. How about the next time you have a day off, we get in touch and I take you around town."

"Well, conveniently enough, my next day off is tomorrow, so how about I see you then?" she offers.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that," I smile, doing my best to hide how excited I am for this.

"Well this is my place," she announces, "thank you for walking me home." 

"Anytime," I reply, sad to know the night is ending. She heads through the door to her apartment, leaving me to walk the short five minutes to my apartment alone.

As soon as I get home, I dash to my bedroom, putting on pyjamas and getting ready for bed. I'm tired from the day. At at the same time, I'm so happy I got to see Jenna. I'm so excited that she wants to see me again, maybe tomorrow! I can't wait to get to know her better.

My phone lights up with a text from a new number

                       +1 ***-***-****

Does 11 AM tomorrow work for you?

-Jenna

I smile, quickly texting back 

                               Sure thing, see ya then :)

I can hardly wait.

[ddarker-dreams]

ive been reading way too much romance manga lately and all of them seem to have a wardrobe malfunction scene and I MUST to ask.,. sr reader having a wardrobe malfunction ?? their reactions like “I do not see I do not perceive” but internally screaming. thoughts? ponderings? musings even??

WAIT HOLD ON !! YOUR BRAIN IS HUGE !! there is nothing i love more than shojo tropes... scarlet ribbons would pair so well with them omg... i need to look up a list and start writing them for funsies <3

reader here is fem!

[Scarlet Ribbons Index]

Giorno

Giorno is stuck in the middle of an intense moral dilemma. If it’s just the two of you, he’d rather not embarrass you by pointing it out; he’d use his Stand to pull down your skirt on the sly. He doesn’t want you to think he’s been ogling you and that’s how he happened to notice the malfunction. In the moment, he’s honestly so concerned about navigating this with decorum that he forgets to get flustered. It isn’t until later when he lays down for the night that the weight of the situation hits him. He feels like he’s disrespecting you somehow by letting his thoughts wander and does his best to think about anything else, takes a cold shower and everything. Almost loses it on the spot when your Stand gives him a knowing thumbs up the following day. 

Bruno

Bruno is similar to Giorno where he prioritizes not wanting to make you uncomfortable in any way. While he’s trying to figure out what to do, he’ll be damned if he lets anyone wander into your general vicinity. He radiates the most ominous aura to keep others at bay. He fights every instinct in his body not to stare and admire the skin he isn’t used to seeing. Bruno already feels guilty for harboring romantic feelings for you in the first place, seeing as you’re his subordinate. This definitely isn’t helping. You’re over there smiling and making jokes while he’s struggling to remember how to breathe. Ends up shedding his blazer and throwing it over your shoulders, unable to take the stress any longer. The end of one crisis ends up inadvertently causing another. Bruno learns that day that he really likes how his clothes look on you. 

Fugo

Fugo starts sputtering, trying (and failing) to string together a coherent sentence. He’s landed in this situation a few times ever since you started rooming together, summer being especially dangerous. He honestly has no idea what to do with himself when you’re walking around in a tank top and short shorts. Ends up getting mad at you and your stupidly attractive body, but is even more upset with himself for how easily it riles him up. It’s just a little bit of skin, why can’t he control himself? He’s above such boorish behavior! Probably. You’re none the wiser to his tribulations and assume he’s just glaring at you because you forgot to take the trash out or something. Will only inform you of the malfunction if you’re planning to go out — he’s not letting anyone else get treated to such a view. Fugo ends up having to pantomime the issue to you because his tongue simply will not form words. He cannot look you in the eyes for the next few days. 

Mista

Mista is uncertain if this is a blessing from God or a trial from the devil. He’s being allowed to view a little glimpse of heaven, yet the cost is steep; what if you catch onto his staring and piece everything together? You’d probably write him off as a creep. Then his chances with you would be ruined forever unless you got hit with a memory-erasing Stand. It’s unusual for him to be perturbed by anything, he’s normally so relaxed. He would be if this was happening with literally anyone else but you. Since you’re involved, he needs to use like, tact or whatever. It’s rough. Eventually, he brings you close with an arm around your shoulders and whispers what the problem is. He’ll eagerly offer to help in any way you need it. 

Narancia

He goes to cover his eyes with his hands... but then splays his fingers so he can still see. Only a peek. You’ll find out what’s going on the fastest with him. Narancia just can’t keep his thoughts inside his head when you’re involved. It’s difficult to tell who is the most embarrassed between the two of you. He’s apologizing, you’re apologizing, it’s developing into quite the scene. It doesn’t help that he swears to stab anyone who walks by to preserve your honor. You have to convince him to put the knife away while readjusting your traitorous outfit. After the heat of the moment has passed, he dejectedly asks if you hate him now. Please reassure him that he did nothing wrong or he’ll be sad for ages. 

Abbacchio

Surprisingly has the most composed response somehow? He knows how the rest of his team gets when they’re around you, it’s like the caveman part of their brain takes over. Abbacchio likes to think he’s better than that. He’ll call you over and calmly explain what the issue is. He doesn’t beat around the bush but he’s not crude either. If you’re out and it’s something you can’t fix right away, he’ll offer to go buy you a hoodie or whatever. It might be a little mean of him to admit, but it’s kinda cute watching you get flustered over the whole ordeal. Though he’s nice enough not to tease you about it in the moment, expect him to bring it up every now and then whenever you start pestering him too much. 

[ochrearia]

And What Can We Do?

RAAAAHH I said I was gonna finish this stupid one-shot even if it killed me. Ough man my stomach huts so bad but the grind never stops. OCHRE WRITING A PROMPT WHERE YS ISN'T ACTIVELY INVOLVED IN IT? CRAZY

BFs in this one-shot: cs!BF (Beefer, mine), wyd!BF (Beef, Karl's), sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), Candy!BF (Blue, Slushgut's)

“You know, don’t you?”

Honestly, the Dinaurian coming to him to ask such a random question was the last thing Beef was expecting. He hadn’t exactly talked much to Beefer either, only small passing conversations compared to the ones he’d had with YS, Biff, or Bee. Kind of weird to think about, talking to one version of himself more than another. Nothing about this was normal anyway.

“Know… what?” Beef asked back, genuinely confused.

Beef had been more than happy to keep to himself in what had essentially become a big brother waiting room. YS wasn’t home, but that hadn’t stopped any of them from camping out at his place waiting for him to come back. It certainly didn’t stop them now. Peacock, Blue, Beefer, and him. A whole handful of BFs he’d talked to the least, probably.

Beefer pulled a face, his red eyes flicking between Peacock and Blue carefully before deciding to continue. “You know about YS. I keep seeing you stare a little too long at his back when he’s around. The others not here, they wouldn’t think anything of it. But the rest of us know better.”

Beef blanched, looking between the three. Blue and Peacock were looking almost confused back at the Dinaurian. Slightly unnerved curiosity on how he knew what he did.

“Dinaurian instinct, guys.” Beefer sighed. “The species I am now. From my world they have gone generations now disguising themselves as humans when they aren’t. Using technology to fool the eyes. I guess something about that made it into my DNA, making it so I can tell between humans and fake humans. I know the only human in this room is Beef.”

Well, that sure was a revelation. Beef hadn’t known there was more really outside of Beefer and YS. It was literally impossible to miss with the Dinaurian, and finding out YS was an angel was sheer luck of time and place. Well, Biff had been there too, but it seemed like he was way better at hiding his knowledge.

“Could’ve given a warning before outing us like that man.” Peacock complained with a raised eyebrow.

“We’re all friends here, are we not?” Beefer replied with a shrug. “I need to keep tabs on who knows and who doesn’t. It matters to me that we avoid comments about his lost wings, even by accident.”

“Beef is the only human in this room?” Blue spoke up, confused. “Wait… hold on, ignoring that for a minute, lost wings? He had wings and now he doesn’t?”

“I didn’t know that.” Peacock frowned. “I could tell he was an angel, angels can sense other angels. I had no idea he was Fallen.”

Beefer dragged his hands along his face in exasperation. “Well fuck. Okay. Guess you know now. It was a talking point when I came to him having an episode of body dysphoria. I think that’s what it’s called anyway. Beef, you had to have known that though right? I didn’t just run my stupid mouth?”

“No, I knew. But I didn’t want to say anything, the way I found out wasn’t really good.” Beef confirmed with a grimace. That day had been so stressful, from one breakdown to the next. “I don’t know if I should say my thoughts though. I have a really bad theory.”

“Dude you can’t headcanon real people.”

“That’s- Why is that what you thought I was doing?” Beef huffed. “See you knew he lost his wings. You clearly don’t know the manner of how he lost them.”

“What, and you do?” Beefer countered.

“If he’s Fallen, then it’s a pretty simple conclusion.” Shrugged Peacock. “The wings rot away, harmlessly. Physically harmlessly anyway. The angel has to deal with the loss for the rest of their life. I just don’t understand what the big guy did to get there.”

“Well…” Beef hesitated. Was this his place to talk about? It was only a theory, he wasn’t even sure if he was right. But the way those bumps felt, those were scars of a way more violent injury than just ‘rotting’. “I don’t think his wings rotted. I don’t think he did anything to get there.”

“How could someone as kind as YS end up Falling?” Blue wondered aloud. “Beef is probably right, he didn’t do anything. Everyone keeps talking about the things he’s done to help. He introduced me to all you guys! I don’t think there’s even a little bit of evil in his body.”

“Then how did he lose his wings then?” Peacock challenged. “And how are you so sure he didn’t Fall?”

“You’ve all gotten at least one hug from YS by now right? Have any of you actually thought to put your hands on his upper back? Well, don’t, he hates that and that’s how I found out. But like, before this conversation did any of you do that?” Beef asked.

The three shook their heads, wondering where he was going with this.

“He has bumps on his back.” Beef continued. “Scars of where his wings used to be. His over shirt is loose and wouldn’t highlight them but I felt them. Even for a moment I could tell those weren’t gentle scars. I guess I don’t know what kind of calling card would be left over after an angel’s wings rot but those bumps are violent. That was a traumatic injury. Not something painless, by how he reacted when I asked. I think… I think something ripped his wings off.”

Silence swept the room.

“...No.” Peacock decided almost desperately. “No, no that can’t be right. Angel wings are too strong for just anything to rip them out. That’s something I was told in my own world. That should be a universal thing, very few things are powerful enough to even do that.”

“Well… that’s still a chance.” Beef mumbled.

“There’s always going to be a stronger thing out there even if you think you’re at the top of the food chain.” Beefer hissed sourly. “Humans in my world, thinking they were top shit because they found a way to revive dinosaurs and make them their friends. Then the Dinaurians showed up. And then the Dinaurians were revealed to be fleeing an even bigger threat, a whole planet eater. Turned out that planet eater could be, and was, killed by a human. There’s always something, a way to defeat the ‘invulnerable’.”

“Why would anyone want to do that to him though?” Bue seemed visibly upset by this revelation. “Didn’t he already go through enough? He still hasn’t told any of us how his version of GF died, I’m guessing? Wouldn’t that have been traumatic enough? Why would someone make it exponentially worse?”

“That’s what I want to know.” Beef growled, feeling his anger flare. YS would tell him it wasn’t worth it, but he wasn’t here, and he was going to feel angry. “You didn’t see it. How badly he reacted when I asked one question. I asked what happened to him and it was like the world was fucking ending.”

“Fuck, how much has he gone through?” A loaded question, but now even Peacock was getting a bit miffed. He didn’t care about a lot, but the things he did care about he was fierce to protect. “Losing his girlfriend, not having a Pico, and now this? It’s a miracle he’s even still alive.”

Yeah, yeah it sure is. Beef thought bitterly. Too much had been accidentally revealed in the aftermath of him prodding about YS’s wing scars. Him deliriously breaking down even further to the point he’d called Biff over as backup. They’d cheered him up the best they could, all things considered. And then when he’d calmed down enough, the pure exhaustion made him blurt things neither should have heard him say. Talking about how angels were always cold when Beef had asked why he liked being warm so much.

Talking about I wanted to join her when Biff asked the last time he’d properly slept. I had a plan. Connect all these mes and then I’d be… I can’t now.

Maybe that wasn’t his story to tell. Beef had seen how devastated Biff had gotten hearing about him having a plan, never in his life had he seen the smaller one get so crushed and upset. If that had been his reaction, and how these guys were already acting with these theories… yeah, he couldn’t tell them.

“So then now what?” Blue asked, snapping Beef out of his thoughts. “He never talked about any of this. I don’t think he’d be happy about any of us knowing, but I don’t want to just pretend I’m clueless. Isn’t there something we can do to show support?”

“It sounds like the only time he actually admitted to anything was with me.” Beefer recounted. “Though even then it was indirect. He only actually said he’d lost his wings after I said it first as a theory. And I could tell it made him uncomfortable. That’s why I think making sure attention to it is avoided is probably the best bet.”

“So we’re not gonna tell him we know more than he thinks?” Peacock asked. “That seems really dishonest. If we tell him we can offer support better.”

“He doesn’t want any of us knowing to begin with!” Beef argued. “Only reason any of us know is because apparently this room is full of non-humans and I just happened to open my big fat mouth!”

“I’m still confused about the room full of non-humans thing…” Blue sheepishly said.

“How are you-? You know what, nevermind, that’s not urgent.” Beefer sighed, tail lashing. “Please, by all means tell him you know, I’m sure the distress of that conversation will be worth it. ‘Hey, you’ve been nothing but kind and caring and you do your absolute best to never hurt us, let me just hurt you real quick by telling you I know what you are and let you sit with that discomfort’.”

“Cheap shot.” Peacock countered.

“The options are pain and pain. Just pick one.” Beef grumbled with folded arms. “Either we tell him and he gets upset with us, or we don’t tell him and let him continue to deal with it alone with no direct support network.”

“Well that’s not true.” Blue insisted. “It’s not true! He has a support network, it’s us. We’re still going to be his support network even if we don’t know everything about him. He doesn’t know everything about us and still does loads to help. We can do that too!”

Blue had a point. YS wasn’t all-knowing, he’d said that several times at this point. He knows as much as he can observe, and by how much they all decided to tell him. He’s just another one of them, nothing completely different and overly special and that was okay. YS still managed to be a pillar of comfort and safety for all of them in different ways, why did they think that they couldn’t do the same? He was always so closely guarded of his problems but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be there for him.

“...Okay.” Beefer breathed finally. “Can we all agree on that at least? Just be there for him if anything happens, but we agree not to mention what we know if it’s clear that saying something would make it worse?”

“Fine.” Peacock conceded. “I don’t like the idea of hurting him by accident but I know lying can also cause that. I guess it’s just a lose-lose situation.”

“He’s obviously not ready to talk about what happened to him. We can’t force that, but we can be there for him. If anything else happens…” Beef was trying. He was always so worked up over being soft or vulnerable but YS had been slowly helping him change that. Hell, he was completely open and willing to be those things if the tall one needed it and that had been proven behind closed doors. It was still nagging at the back of his head that he was being embarrassingly protective of him around the others.

“Glad we agree then. That’s what I was aiming for by bringing this up.” Beefer admitted. “Constantly worried about him to be honest. As if I needed more things to worry about considering what the hell’s going on with me, but it’s impossible not to care about the guy.”

At least they could all agree to that statement too. 

[blacklegsanjiii]

NOOO but for Warlord!Sanji I have a truly devastating idea.

what if the warlords think Sanji is dead for some reason?

kind of inspired off the last ask, but maybe marines capture Blackleg and put out newspapers talking abt the execution. and the strawhats try to get there but a devil fruit is involved and nobody can find his location and a whole week passes after the execution date with no sign from Sanji. the crew is desperate. Jinbei seems unusually wrecked and keeps disappearing to have dendenmushi calls but the others dont notice until the day four warlords appear on sunny's deck demanding to know where their son is.

but none of them know, that's the problem, they dont where he was and if hes alive where he would even be. the warlords are very quiet abt this. then they leave. every marine hq in an even remote vicinity is obliterated to bedrock; not just searching for Sanji, but in retribution for hurting him, whether hes alive or not

then a month later Sanji reappears in a comatose state being carried by Reiju, who explains that shes very sorry she couldnt bring him earlier, but although shed gotten past whaetevr devil fruit-enhanced boundary there was, she couldnt leave for a while, and even afterwards couldnt risk moving him too much due to the torture he endured to ensure he couldnt escape during the execution.

whatever happens next is up to you :)

Ohh loorrd. It starts as a normal skirmish but after the dust settles Sanji is gone with the higher ranking Marines from the fight. The Strawhats search and search for days but every night Jinbei excuses himself to make a phone call that lasts for seemingly hours. Then a paper comes with an article about Sanji and his pending execution. The Strawhats immediately try to make it there, to save him. But they can't find out where it's being held, no one has information on it. It's a black hole of information and Jinbei is somehow worse than before when the paper comes and explains the execution has happened. They keep searching, keep hoping to find something, anything. Jinbei keeps making calls.

The first to show is Doflamingo who Luffy immediately tries to punch but the tall man catches his fist. He's not smiling and he's not acting like he did on Dressrosa at all as Jinbei approaches. Boa is next and she hugs Luffy but she seems sad and distant as she sits with the two other warlords. Crocodile arrives and turns to sand to avoid the crew. Jinbei keeps stopping Luffy from hurting the two warlords he has beef with and Zoro is getting pissed when Mihawk gets on the boat. He eyes Zoro and asks what all that training was for. Zoro yells and goes to attack him. Mihawk just catches the blade in a haki hand and tosses him aside.

"Enough, all of you. There are more important things to worry about." Jinbei scolds them with a harsh look.

"Why are 'Mingo and Croc here?" Luffy demands.

"Why do we have four former warlords on our boat?" Nami asks.

"Mutual interest, you could say." Crocodile says as he puffs on his cigar.

"Where the hell are they?" Doflamingo asks looking at Jinbei.

"We don't know." Jinbei says. "So none of you have found anything either?"

"At this point we have to assume it is similar to Roger. The Marines know of their tie to us." Mihawk says as he crosses his arms.

"Are you talking about Sanji?" Luffy asks.

"Yes." Jinbei says.

"I thought given your track record with family you would have killed them." Boa says to Doflamingo.

"Yeah, and then I would have to deal with you four and ghost girl. No thanks." Doflamingo growls.

"Perona? The hell does she have to do with this? What the hell is going on, how the hell does the cook have ties to you people?" Zoro demands.

"Sanji is our child, Mihawk saved them when they were small." Boa answers which makes the crew either gasp or widen their eyes. Zoro stares at his mentor who is more tense than normal, bubbling rage under the man's skin.

"Hawkeye-" Crocodile starts.

"Call if you find anything." The swordsman growls as he gets back to his boat and leaves. Boa sighs and pats Luffy's shoulder and leaves. Doflamingo strings his way to the clouds and Crocodile looks at Zoro.

"He's never lost someone before, he doesn't blame you." Crocodile shrugs as he leaves with a nod to Jinbei. Jinbei then explains his time with Sanji and how he met the cook and their history. The newcoo brings reports of Naval bases being obliterated. The crew finds a new normal without their cook they really don't like. The Thousand Sunny isn't as bright without Sanji's smiles and songs. Brook can't seem to play a happy song and Chopper crawls into Zoro's hammock and cries after nightmares. Luffy doesn't ask for food near as much and Nami and Robin's cooking can't measure up and Usopp has to make a list to go on the fridge for ingredients for when they restock.

Then the soft boop boop is on deck one night makes Zoro look at this pink haired girl who is not Perona, holding the cook who is fucked up with a sorrowful look on her face makes him yell and wake the crew up. The rush of footsteps approach and Chopper immediately directs Reiju to the infirmary where he and Robin lock everyone out to start treating Sanji.

"What happened, Reiju?" Nami demands as she looks at the woman.

"The devil fruit hiding them was not something I had seen before, made it almost impossible to find him and even harder to get him out." Reiju explains.

Chopper and Robin come back after a while looking exhausted and tired. Jinbei looks exasperated as they listen to the list of injuries Sanji has sustained and Sanji being in a coma that he might not wake up from. The list is long and extensive, his knees and hips were dislocated, both his hands smashed repeatedly, multiple head traumas and cuts and stab wounds over his body.

When the other warlords come aboard they look at Reiju and the crew as Chopper approaches them and says they might want to sit down. He explains what Reiju did and how she got Sanji out and why it took so long and the state Sanji is in. He warns them that Sanji may never wake up but for now they are stable and there is a very close eye being kept on them.

"May I ask why you would risk your life to save Sanji? Given everything we know, Judge must be looking for you." Mihawk asks Reiju.

"I'm trying to fix past mistakes." Reiju answers.

"But you helped us escape Tottoland." Luffy says with confusion.

"Sanji's life before the warlords is not a happy one and up until their escape I may have never laid hands up on him but I certainly didn't stop our brothers." Reiju says.

"But wouldn't they have hurt you?" Nami asks.

"I certainly would have been able to handle it better, I have most of the mutations Sanji lacks." Reiju answers.

"So you saved them thinking this would absolve you of some of your sins? Interesting." Doflamingo says.

"She should be getting back to Germa unless we want to deal with another mess right now." Robin cuts in. "For now we need to figure out what to do with Sanji and how we will protect them."

"Kuraigana would be the simplest answer." Zoro points out.

"Amazon Lily as well but the Navy knows what we've been doing." Boa shrugs.

"Is that why Sanji's execution was so hidden? Their ties to you?" Nami asks.

"If Ace's execution was anything to go by having five former warlords and at least two emperors coming to interrupt an execution wouldn't end well." Crocodile says as he gestures at Luffy. "You also broke almost all of Impel Down out."

"That's true, Ace and the White Beard fleet may have struggled but if it wasn't for the warlords turning against the Navy as well as Shanks showing up we might have lost all of you." Robin points out.

"So what should we do?" Zoro asks.

"To be blunt we need to be prepared to set a time limit on how long we will wait for Sanji to wake up. Perhaps calling in Marco or Law to also check Sanji over." Robin answers.

The deck goes quiet and Chopper offers to let the parents see Sanji one at a time and Luffy agrees to let them stay aboard until they decide what to do. Reiju leaves after both of those are offered and no one really minds. If Germa also decides to come after them it'll be too much of a hassle.

They decide on two weeks. Crocodile helps Nami with the budget and Doflamingo is useful with the sails and watch. Mihawk and Boa settle in for kitchen duties, they're better than Robin and Nami but not as good as Sanji. Everyone aboard takes turns with spending time with Sanji and after about a week Sanji shows signs of waking up, and a few days later does. Chopper does a thorough check up as everyone waits for the news.

"You need to quit stressing about Sanji, you have grey streaks." Boa says poking Mihawk's hair.

"My life has been nothing but stress since he joined it." Mihawk says boredly.

"I can feel the love you have for your child radiating from you." Nami deadpans.

"I would say twenty some odd marine bases being destroyed for my son is a worthy sign of love." Mihawk gives her a look. Chopper comes to find them all though and looks at his clipboard and runs through everything.

According to his tests Sanji has no memory issues and is physically weak but given a few weeks he'll be fine. Chopper explains that the things Sanji went through will have a lasting effect on the cook's mental health, which everyone expected. Luffy, ever the optimistic, says they'll do anything Sanji needs. Everyone gets their turns to see Sanji and the parents get all the information out of Sanji they can regarding the torture/execution.

They stay a few extra days to make sure Sanji listens to his doctor and crew before departing. The crew finds it interesting how tender the warlords can be. Sure, they knew about Jinbei and Boa but the other three being kind and sweet was kind of weird.

Then the newscoo comes saying four warlords have launched an all out assault on the World Government for the failed execution of Sanji which makes the pirating world go insane.