#was keeping these in the chamber for a while now

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄

xavier x reader

while the entire kingdom of philos rejoices over the soon-to-be-born heir to the throne, the king’s unwavering priority remains clear: his queen

genre/warnings: mildly suggestive, fluff, fluff, fluff, comfort, king!xavier and queen!reader, pregnancy, spoilers! from xavier's myth shooting stars and taking elements of xavier's card silvery polyphony

note: i'm not actually a xavier girlie... but ever since his myth and anecdote when shooting stars fall, he's been marinating in my head :')

“Your Majesty, here are the gifts meant for the Queen by the townsfolk.”

Xavier’s gaze swept over the various trinkets that filled the throne room—from fine fabrics and glistening pearls, to handwritten messages with heartfelt wishes for the future royal baby and your wellbeing. He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.

"All this? You’ve inspected every single one of them?" he questioned, gaze flicked to Jeremiah, his aide. His cerulean eyes narrowed slightly. "Nothing with malicious intent?"

Jeremiah shook his head with a smile. "No. They are purely tokens of love and respect for Her Majesty."

"I see..."

Xavier hummed softly, the stiffness in his posture easing as the assurance settled over him—no harm would come to you. In the fifth year of your reign as King and Queen of Philos, it had become clear that the people had come to adore their queen to such an extent.

As they should. The king found himself smiling despite his usual composure then. You were due their respect for all of your service and compassion. And now, with you carrying the future heir to the throne, it was even more deserved.

"Has the Queen been well? She hasn't been around much," Jeremiah asked, a knowing look crossed his face. "After all, you're counting down the days now..."

With the royal physician declaring you were at full-term, you could give birth any day now. Xavier would be lying if he said he wasn't antsy, but the least he could do in front of his subjects was showing an air of indifference.

But of course, Jeremiah knew him best after you.

"Why don't you pay her a visit? And oh, yeah, I think I've heard the maids saying Her Majesty is missing having the King serenading her!"

Your husband had been busy these past few days that he had little time to spend with you each day.

Of course, you missed him. There wasn’t much you could do while in confinement. And so when he entered your chambers on this windy winter day, you were more enthusiastic than you should have—

“Xavier!” You turned to him and smiled so brightly, your excitement making you rise to your feet and scamper towards him.

But he was faster, closing the distance in an instant and catching you before you could take more than a few steps. His hands steadied you, as the heavy weight in your womb proved to be a challenge.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest,” he scolded, a frown tugging at his features. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, holding you in place. “Don’t move around too much.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” You giggled as he led you to your bed, but before you could settle in, a sharp wave of pain rippled through your abdomen and spine. The smile faltered on your lips as you sucked in a quick breath, instinctively leaning into him for support.

“What's wrong?” Xavier’s voice tensed with concern, his arm tightening around you as his eyes widened in alarm. His free hand hovered protectively over yours, which was clutching your swollen belly. "Is it hurting? I’ll call for—"

“No, no!” You declined amidst your labored breaths, mustering up a smile despite the discomfort. “I’ve consulted the royal physician. It’s perfectly normal for me to experience this... I just have to bear it.”

“How is this normal?” Xavier's brow furrowed with worry and sternness. “If this keeps up, how will you preserve your strength for the real labor?”

He had always detested seeing you in distress. It was evident in all his actions, from the earliest moments of your relationship to this very day, and it made your heart warm.

When the pain subsided, you made him sit on your bed and brought both your hands to cup his face, trying to coax a smile from him.

"Don't worry too much, love." You grinned, eyes crinkling. "On the bright side, it just means that our little star is thiiis close to meeting us."

Xavier found your gaze and for a moment, he stayed silent. His clear blue eyes softened as they held yours. You had always been like this—diminishing your own discomfort in favor of reassuring him, and if you thought it would make him feel better, then you were sorely wrong because his instincts to protect you were deeply engraved in him, and it only fueled his concern further.

His hands settled over yours, pressing them to his face.

“From what I’ve seen, this baby really enjoys bullying you,” he muttered sullenly.

You pursed your lips. “A friendly reminder, you’re the one who got me with child.”

“I’ve always thought that sexual act is the pinnacle of showing the depths of my undying loyalty towards you.” His tone was mock-serious, the edge of a grin tugging at his lips. “The baby is a pleasant gift, what I enjoy more though—”

Before you could protest, his fingers skimmed over your figure, landing with unmistakable familiarity on your ample breasts—

“I like these the most.”

“Xavier!” You swatted his hand away with wide eyes, crossing both arms over your chest in an attempt to block him from further groping.

He chuckled openly at how defensive you were, a playful glint in his eyes. With a soft pat on your head, he stood up and extended his right hand towards you.

“What?” You stared at his hand, almost squeaking, wary that his hands might wander to your sensitive skin again. Xavier let out another chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction.

“I’ve heard through the grapevine that Her Majesty the Queen wants me to serenade her,” he said with a teasing smile. “And as your humble servant, who am I to refuse?”

. . .

You has always adored how Xavier plays the piano.

He claimed he didn't like the instrument that much, but the way his fingers moved over the keys so effortlessly, each note flowing with such precision—it was one of the many ways he captured your heart.

You sat next to him by the grand piano, your head gently bobbing along with the beautiful rhythm he drew from the keys.

“You used to play this a lot back then,” you commented as Xavier started playing the piece he composed himself, one you often referred as ‘his very own soundtrack.’

Celestial Serenade. Xavier even had a name for it. Solemn and playful, it was the beginning that always got your heart racing. But when he reached the bridge, a gnawing sadness would creep in, tugging at your heart.

And suddenly, in that moment, you had an epiphany.

From the days you had loved him as a student in the Academy, and then as a knight and your crown prince, until that heartbreaking day when you had to let him go into the unknown— then those gruelling years of waiting for him, up until he finally came back to restore Philos, to retake his throne, and to make you his queen in the truest sense—

Tears pricked at your eyes at the flashback of everything the two of you had gone through, right after he finished the outro.

Xavier paused, his fingers still on the keys. He turned to you, but his eyes widened as he noticed the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Why are you crying?"

"Nothing, I'm just—" Startled, you quickly wiped the tears from your face, but Xavier gently lifted your chin, his touch soft but insistent.

He was worried, his gaze searching yours as if he was struggling to find the right words, his eyes full of concern. "Tell me," he urged quietly, the hint of a tremor in his voice. "What is it? What made you cry?"

How could you explain what you had just realized— the weight of all that had brought you to this moment? The journey, the sacrifices, the love that had never faltered even in the darkest of times?

And it all culminated into one single sentence, as you stared right into those beautiful eyes of his:

“I love you, Xavier.”

In that very second, Xavier could’ve sworn his heart was entirely in your grasp. His breath caught, and the world around him seemed to fade, leaving only you—your teary-eyed confession and the raw honesty in your gaze.

Through countless dawns and twilights, through many starry sea expeditions and a daring voyage to the past— everything he had done led to this precise moment, where happiness is within your reach.

He was overwhelmed by love you gave him, it made his heart so, so full.

Xavier cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “Don't cry, you big crybaby. Save it for when we welcome our child later.”

You sniffled, frowning at him. “So, you don’t love me?”

A soft smile played on his lips as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.

“Silly... I love you more than anything in this world.”

Three days later, you went into labor.

The palace descended into chaos, with attendants scurrying through the halls. But amidst all the commotion, Xavier was the one who struggled the most to maintain his composure.

Your cries from behind the doors felt like a blade slicing through his chest. He wanted nothing more than to rush in, to hold your hand, to do something—anything—but the midwives had firmly insisted that he stay out of the way.

Xavier’s mind raced with worry, his eyes fixed on the door as though sheer willpower could ease your pain. The only thing that mattered right in this moment was you and the child you were bringing into the world—and it was taking everything in him not to lose his wits.

Then, amidst his fervent prayers, hours later, a piercing cry broke through.

Xavier froze, his heart lurching. Relief and disbelief flooded him all at once as he realized—it was his baby's first cry.

But what about you?

He so desperately wanted to see you that Jeremiah had to physically restrain him. The women assured him you and the baby were being tended to.

When they finally allowed him inside, he rushed in so quickly he nearly stumbled.

There you were, seated on the bed, hair disheveled, exhaustion etched into every line of your face, yet to him, you were radiant—utterly so. His heart swelled as he watched you cradle the newborn, cooing with a tenderness that stole his breath.

“Now, say hi to Papa...”

Your voice was almost feather-like, yet it was in that moment the truth hit him with full force—his baby was really here. He stared at the tiny bundle in your arms, awestruck, before his gaze shifted to your pale face again.

And you smiled at him so brilliantly. So warmly.

“Xavier... say hello to our son.”

He felt like he was in a daze as he slowly kneeled and took the baby into his arms. The small, fragile weight felt both unfamiliar and extraordinary. This child— was a part of him, but most importantly, he was a part of you too.

The baby stirred, and when his eyes blinked open, Xavier’s breath hitched. Those tiny blue eyes, a mirror of his own, locked onto him.

“Ah, he—” Xavier faltered, his chest tightening as emotions overwhelmed him. Holding his son, seeing him so clearly now, felt like an arrow straight to his heart. Before this moment, he hadn’t thought much about how the baby might look. But now, he couldn’t help marveling at the sight. The little one had his hair and eyes, yet your delicate nose and soft, heart-shaped lips.

In that instant, all his doubts and fears melted away like snow under the sun, replaced by a feeling so intense, so overflowing, it brought a lump to his throat and tears in his eyes.

This was love—raw and undeniable. A love he never knew he could feel so deeply, now cradled in his arms.

And also in you.

As his gaze found yours again, Xavier made a vow—to every god and deity that might be listening, that no matter where his life led him, no matter how cruel fate might twist his path, if it meant getting even a glimpse of this unparalleled happiness with you, then—

He would endure it all. Every storm, every trial. For you, for the love you shared, and now for the tiny life in his arms. And if you were ever separated again—

No matter how, no matter how many times, through all means, he will definitely find you, always.

[onthesandsofdreams]

From Duty To Love

Fandom: House of the Dragon/ASoIaF Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader Summary: Cregan knew that a marriage to Queen Rhaenyra's only daughter would be different. Two people who perhaps were on the opposite ends when it came to their respective houses: Fire and Ice. He could not fault you, much like him, you took your duties seriously. And he wondered if that would only be the only kind of marriage you both would have. Until he noticed. Rating: G Notes: Listen, I just wanted to write fluff, ok?Also, while reader is Rhaenyra's daughter (Velaryon), there are no descriptions. Tagging: @flashfictionfridayofficial

Read @ AO3

Cregan knew that a marriage to Queen Rhaenyra's only daughter would be different. Two people who perhaps were on the opposite ends when it came to their respective houses: Fire and Ice.

He could not fault you, much like him, you took your duties seriously. And he wondered if that would only be the only kind of marriage you both would have.

Until he noticed.

Until his wolf eyes and instincts were forcefully opened about the subtle signs you had been sending. How you'd lean towards him during dinner, how you always tried your best to keep waiting until he returned to your shared chambers. Your offer to take him flying, something he'd yet to accept. How you always had a kind smile for him, how you in your quiet and subtle manner, were actually looking out for him. Too much time in the training yard? A bath with scented oils waited for him. Too lost in books and ledgers? A tray of bite size food and drink on his desk. His clothes always laid for him, and yes, he'd noticed that some of his clothes now bore embroidery in wolf shapes. Your handiwork, he knew it.

It also did not escaped him your kindness and respect towards his people. Your people now too. But, in your short time as Lady of Winterfell, you had earned your placed with those who had served his family, some even before he was born. Even the most hardened Northman, you'd find a way to charm and made them feel at ease. It had helped that, while you had pride in who you were, you did not looked down upon others.

He furrowed his brows, so, why then were you still shy when it came to him?

The reason slammed into him fast, The Hightowers. Of course, you'd had seen how they treated and spoked of your mother, and as such, he understood now that you did not want people to speak in the same way about you.

Not that he'd let them.

If anyone would be foolish to try and slander his wife, they would soon be acquaintances with Ice. He would not tolerate any disrespect towards you. Not now, not ever.

He put his quill down and stood from his desk, and left his solar in search of you. Asking a passing maid, he'd been told you had just gone out to see Silverwing, so, for once he gathered his courage in facing the she dragon and followed you.

He found you leaning against Silverwing's snout. He did not need to announce himself, soon enough, the she dragon moved and made you look. He saw the surprise in your face as you found him there. He watched as you stood and walked towards him.

"Cregan, is there something wrong?" He had insisted that you called him that.

"No, I just wanted to check on you?"

He savored the way your face softened, "I am well, just Silverwing was getting a bit lonely." You bit your lip. "I was thinking of taking to the skies, would you like to come?"

He did not miss the way your eyes shone with hope. And he swallowed his nervousness and fears, "As long as you promise not to let me fall."

He was not prepared for you to turn radiant with joy and all but leap at his arms. The kiss you placed on the corner of his lips felt like fire of a kind he had never known. "Never, Cregan. I will never let you fall."

He let you take his hand, and followed you towards Silverwing.

Perhaps now, duty would not be the only thing that would tie your marriage. He hoped.

[arraxvelaryon]

STORM OUTSIDE

aegon targaryen & father!reader (platonic!)

warnings: none

“kepa?” a little voice spoke quietly, although it was hard to hear because of the storm raging on outside. the king and his queen’s shared bedchamber was dark, but sometimes lit up by lightning striking outside, and the silence was broken by thunder.

aegon looked at the sleeping form of his father, who wasn’t showing any signs of waking up.

“kepa?” he spoke again, but this time a bit louder. yet, the king did not stir, neither did the queen. the young prince winced as a particularly loud boom was heard from outside. it was a wonder how his parents managed to sleep through it, really.

“kepa,” he cried, his small body trying to climb onto the bed. the little boy had been woken up by the loud weather and, in his fearful moment, climbed out of his bed, managed to open the door, and found his way to his parents’ chamber.

“what are you doing, aegon?” the king asked his 2-year-old son, who, in his attempt to get onto the bed, had stepped on his hand.

“kepa!” he sobbed, and the king was suddenly wide awake. his once-closed eyes were now fully open as he saw the tears on the little prince’s cheeks. he sat up in the bed, concern filling his eyes.

“what are you crying for?” he asked softly, pulling his son closer. aegon was his first son, his heir, and seeing him in distress caused the grown man’s heart to clench.

“no like the loud noises,” he cried as he curled into his father. his small fists went to cling onto his father’s shoulder. he rested his small head on his father’s bare chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

“don’t like the noises, no?” he asked. “it’s only a storm, aegon, it cannot hurt you.” he tried to soothe his clearly scared son.

“too loud,” aegon whimpered, his voice muffled against his father’s chest. his little body trembled with each crack of thunder that rolled through the night sky.

“it’s loud, i know,” the king said gently, his big hand rubbing soothing circles on aegon’s little back. “but the walls of the red keep are strong, stronger than any storm. and as long as you’re in here, you’re as safe as one can be.”

aegon peeked up from his hiding place, his wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “promise?” his voice was small and uncertain.

���i promise,” the king replied firmly, pressing a kiss to the top of aegon’s silver hair. “i will not let anyone harm you. not now, not ever,” he whispered.

aegon sniffled again, wiping his tiny fist across his damp cheek as he peered up at his father. “you fight storm?” he asked, his voice quivering but curious.

the king chuckled quietly. “if i must,” he said with a small smile. “now, how about you and i go to sleep, hm?”

aegon shook his tiny head, his grip tightening on his father’s shoulder. “no sleep,” he mumbled stubbornly, his cheek pressed against the king’s bare chest. “storm still dere.”

his father sighed softly as he shifted to rest his back against the headboard, cradling the prince close. “yes, the storm is still there, but it cannot hurt you. and i’ll be right here, holding you, even while you sleep.”

aegon looked up at him with wide, tired eyes, his bottom lip jutting out in a small pout. “no leave?”

“never,” the king promised firmly, brushing a gentle hand over aegon’s soft hair. “i’ll stay right here until the storm is over and you’re fast asleep.”

aegon nodded, and his father laid down, holding the little boy close. eventually, the two fell asleep.

and when alicent awakened the next morning to see the usually stern and cold king sleeping with their son in his arms, she knew that she wished for nothing more than for their family to always stay together. and as her hand rested on her swollen stomach, she knew the child, who was not yet born, would be loved dearly.

[jweekgoji]

I keep laughing when I think about the scene where Motorcycle!Reader is so small that they don't have their own charging chamber and have to live in someone else's charging chamber because after all they are so small that they don't take up much space.

TFO!Chars/Motorcycle!Reader [hcs]

tw: none, i guess. word count: ~1600 additional tags: gender neutral reader, cybertronian reader, motorcycle!reader. characters included: B-127, Optimus Prime, Elita-One, Megatron, Sentinel Prime.

That is both a curse and a blessing in my opinion, but well, it depends on whom the tiny reader is stuck with 😋

I mean, >B-127 didn't even have his own place to sleep. All the yellow bot had, was a conveyor belt, which I doubt it was really comfortable, haha. Well then, after just ending Sentinel's regime, the ex-cogless group at least have some places to stay.

When Bee found out you'd be living with him for a while, he was overjoyed! First he made many, many new friends, gained the ability to transform, started working for the government, and now...he has a roommate? A real roommate? The one who can open their mouth when 🐝 talks to them? The day couldn't be any better! (Not that Bee wasn't happy with Steve's company...).

To be fair, Bee himself isn't exactly a bad neighbor either. It all very much depends on what kind of personality you have. If you really get along well with him, despite his extremely emotional state, which sometimes seems to never end, then good luck!

Sharing a chamber with him is going to be an absolute challenge. We remember that he talks in his sleep, don't we? And if Shockwave was so sick of Bumblebee in that short time, imagine how you have to recharge, but now all you can hear, instead of the silence you crave, is constant mumbling into your audio receptors.

Sometimes he's just mumbling about what a cool day he had with Optimus or what an intense training session Elita gave him.

Sometimes you notice how his servos only pull you harder against him. For a moment, you'd probably sigh wearily or try to make some space between you until he starts whispering softly about how happy Bee is to have you in his life. He genuinely, really genuinely loves you. After cycles of being alone, he really misses your company. Will you decide to move him away from you nevertheless?

The next morning, surprisingly, he has no memory of what he told you at all.

> Optimus apologizes to you so much when he finds out that now, unfortunately or thankfully (?), they don't have any time or resources at all to build new quarters. The new Prime has so many new responsibilities that he doesn't even know where to start! He has to clean up and fix Sentinel's mistakes, not to mention his divorce with D-16 Megatron, which has caused him a lot of trouble. But that's okay, our favorite Prime has a solution for that!

And as a good, true leader...yes, yes, you will be the one sharing the room. Lucky, huh? Oh, lucky you.

Optimus is actually one of the best candidates to share a chamber. I find that most of the time, he doesn't have much time to go to his room and fall asleep. You often fall asleep alone, only to wake up later...alone. Was he with you? Did he come in at all? In response to this, you sometimes notice him passed out at his desk. You should definitely tell Elita about this to scold him about such a bad habit.

Actually, he'd be happy to share the charging chamber with you. The thing is, he's extremely shy.

When you fall asleep with him, there's just not enough room! Yeah, you're a pretty small bot, he's just so huge. It takes the two of you a long time to finally find the only comfortable solution.

With you on top of Optimus, you can put your helm on his chassis. The soft shimmer of the Matrix of Leadership doesn't bother you at all; if anything, it calms your nerves. All night long, your leader may never move from his position. He's so afraid he might accidentally hit you if he rolls over or decides to stand up...poor Prime, even Megatron didn't set such dangerous traps for him!

The first few nights, Optimus doesn't sleep much. He's nervous; he thinks up to the late night, but in the end, he can't resist you, and you two can get your well-deserved rest.

I think after Prime, the best candidate for your roommate would be >Elita. I like to think she always sleeps in “mom's pose” (if you know what I mean).

She can lie on her back with her servos on her chassis and not move a muscle all night. Other than that, she's a completely silent sleeper. Sometimes, you can stay up late at night; your shared room is unlit, and you don't want to turn on the lights so as not to disturb her. If she finds out you've been out the whole night instead of recharging, she'll kill you!

You swear you didn't even make the slightest creak, and just then, you see those bright blue optics staring at you in the darkness. Without even seeing her face, you know you're in trouble...She has very sharp hearing, unfortunately for you.

Elita isn't the tallest bot; sure, she's still taller than you, but her frame is pretty slim, unlike the others'. She is not the type to cuddle, even if you are extremely close to her. The most you can expect is her servo around your waist or shoulders.

You can tease her about it, but she'll try to deny everything, saying “just don't want you to fall and hit the floor 🙄” of course we all believe you, Elita!

I can see D-16 being a similar type to Optimus, but Megatron is a different story. I have no idea where our young Decepticon leader went with his guards, but at least they have a few cycles to spend building a base, especially one with all the comforts.

Megatron himself is not a fan of sharing, and when he realizes the problem, he doesn't even ask you if you want him to or not. You will share the chamber with him, period. Should you be worried or happy...?

Megatron, especially if we're talking about a young and inexperienced leader who was only recently forced to leave Iacon, is in need of support. He won't show it in front of anyone, not even you. But you know him enough to know what is troubling him.

He is so isolated, betrayed and saddened, he is afraid to open up to anyone else. And yet, he genuinely wishes someone could just hold him.

Megatron rarely sleeps. 24 hours a day, all he has on his mind is what he should do next. It used to be so easy; the mere thought of it makes him grit his teeth. When there was Sentinel, all that was required was to just follow the protocols. Now, with hundreds of high guard members expecting him to do something, he's lost.

At some point, Starscream or Soundwave will remind him of the importance of rest, and without any enthusiasm, he'll join you.

Now, the two of you are extremely awkward.

Of course, you can't tell much from his looks. Is he asleep? Or still lying there with his optics closed? This awkward silence makes you afraid to move. But the truth is, Megatron himself doesn't know what to do. You're so small compared to him; by some miracle, the two of you can fit, but it's so extremely uncomfortable.

Eventually, he can't stand it and just lifts you up to lay you on top of him. Luckily for him, you have no intention of moving away from him. Perhaps you're afraid; maybe you're okay with this change in positions. Either option is fine with him.

He repeats in his head that this is only temporary...when resources become available, you will get your own separate quarters, and you will be able to sleep separately. And yet, he doesn't want that. Your presence around him, for whatever reason, makes him forget his worries for a while, and he can finally rest.

You may disagree with me, but >Sentinel, no matter how sexy man people try to show him to be, would be just a terrible roommate! If he can even be called a roommate? Sometimes, he forgets that you're resting here too, and even if you remind him of that, he'll pretend to “listen” to you, only to forget after a while.

In fact, he could easily order a separate room for you; he's got plenty of them in his tower, but he's like.... no. He wants you around just because he can. There's no other reason.

I think he's more or less tolerable at first? He likes to keep something small next to him; imagine it like the cybertronian equivalent of plush toys, but only that toy is you. And it seems he may see you as such.

Every night, he can grab you at any time he wants and hold you against him. One time he just held you by his side; another time he decided to put his servo around you; tonight he wanted you on his chassis! The worst part is that his berth is quite spacious. And you can lie on the very far side, only for him to snatch you whenever he wants. Not very funny.

Recharging with him is pretty uncomfortable because those damn wings keep hitting you in the face every night. He's a pretty big bot on his own, and his wings are another big nuisance. Of course, he's not that terrible. Still, his room is very large, and you're probably very cozy, but Sentinel...sigh.

It's funny, but I like to think of him mumbling in his sleep too. Only this time all you can hear from him is about how often he praises himself. Wow.

[midnightwind]

Summary: A summons home with an air of unease. Viago's talks are always a unique agony as a de Riva.

Warnings: if you aren't okay with stabbing, violence, and poisoning, pass this by

Word count: 2367

~◇~

Renn

Return to the Nest. No eyes.

Viago

She creased the corner of the short letter on loop, folding and unfolding it, brows furrowed. It had been a very long time since Viago had summoned her like this. Granted, usually she was just a room away and he could send a servant or come himself when she was needed. Being barred from bringing anyone likely meant it was de Riva business. No eyes meant no watchers, no one waiting, no one knowing. Did he have a lead on the traitors? Were they within her own House or was this a precaution because the Diamond was compromised? Given the state of Treviso and the country at large, the chance of it being a large contract felt slim. She was already on a job, anyways, he wouldn’t burden her with a second like that.

A heavy sigh slipped free and she chewed her lip. Telling no one she was leaving felt like a terrible idea. What if the gods made a move while she was gone? If the group needed the lyrium dagger and she wasn’t there… She ran a hand through her hair almost frantically, squeezing her eyes shut as she warred with herself. She could tell Lucanis, he was a Crow, he would keep the secret. He would respect the rules. But she had already broken the rules once for him and doing it a second time caused an ugly feeling to curl in her stomach, all sharp edges and claws. She had kept quiet about Spite out of shared sympathy. This was House business and he wasn’t a de Riva. Her hand snatched a sheet of paper she kept for letters, penning a quick note.

Personal errand, will be back soon! Keep this safe in the meantime.

-R

Vague enough, left out on her table in the open, and with the ringed hilt of the lyrium dagger left atop meant it was impossible to miss. She hoped. By the time they started looking for her, she’d be back, surely. Now she just had to sneak into the Eluvian room and make it to Treviso without incident. About a fifty-fifty chance on the Crossroads having hulking brutes rampaging through the market when she passed through. The Maker had gifted her quite the lucky streak, afterall. She changed into her usual leathers, unease settling over her like a second skin. She hadn’t really been out alone in a long time. After Viago had sent her away, she always had Varric or Harding. Then it was always some variation of company from the ragtag team she had assembled. It almost felt wrong not having someone following along behind her.

Shaking herself once, she crept silently from her chambers. No one was lingering on the balcony for a blessing, but she forwent the stairs, opting instead to lower herself directly from the upper platform to the steps below. There was a quiet scuff as she landed and she held her breath, ears straining. If someone had been in the main room, they could have heard it. Pressed into the shadows and taking quick steps, she didn’t wait to see if someone was coming to investigate. The Eluvian room felt emptier, more intimidating alone. A tall monolith looming over her. She swallowed that fear and passed through. It was a quiet walk to the Treviso mirror, the Caretaker not making a comment on her lack of escort. It made her wonder if Solas wandered off like this, too, during the rebellion. It had her stomach doing a sickening flip.

She pulled her hood low to her eyes as she passed through the mirror, just another Crow in the gathered masses at the Diamond. Taking to the rooftops, she arrived at the de Riva apartments shortly after her feet touched Trevisan brickwork. The window to Viago’s office was ajar, inviting, and that made her frown. It was meant for her, that much was obvious based on the letter, but that unease lingered. Dark curtains were drawn over the egress, sending up a cloud of dust as she swung inside. Muffled coughs announced her presence to the Talon long before she stepped in front of his desk. His eyes were fixed on bundles of what she assumed were contracts, neat piles of information and receipts organized on the tabletop. He didn’t look up.

“Clumsy entrance.”

She half shrugged. “Haven’t had to sneak through a window in a while.”

A disapproving scoff was her only answer before he waved a hand towards the window. “Close it.”

Mutely she obeyed, a finality to the action as the wood thudded into place.

“Have you been keeping up with your daily doses?” He shuffled the page he had been reading to the back of the pile in front of him.

“Uh,”  she started awkwardly, blindsided by the direction of the conversation, “more or less. Some concoctions are hard to find while on the move like I was. I’ve had to take smaller doses of the rarer brews since returning. But… you didn’t have me come here in pure secrecy to ask about my poison habits, right?” A weak half smile jumped to her lips.

“A simple wonder.” He placed a palm flat over the stack of papers he had been reading, finally looking up. “One of many. Mirenna, am I a mark to you?”

The question had been uttered with a frigid edge that had every alarm bell in her mind screeching. It was the sharp danger she remembered from their early days together, the voice he had used in their training when she was too weak to pass a test. It was a knife to the heart and she felt a cold sweat coming on.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t play coy with me, child.” His voice was a whip, stealing her breath.

She swallowed thickly. “Vi, I really don’t know…” She felt lightheaded, hand clenching and unclenching next to her mageknife. Her heart was hammering against her ribs so hard she felt it would leave bruises.

He rose to his feet with a serpentine grace, slow and fluid. Dangerous. “Lucanis Dellamorte.” She felt ice in her veins as he took measured steps around the desk. “Imprisoned for a year by Zara Renata, known blood mage and Venatori leader. The Ossuary was her personal laboratory. Notes and remains recovered speak of experiments to foster demonic possessions to create more powerful abominations.” He circled her slowly, coming to a stop mere inches from her face. “But you knew that already.”

Not a question, stating the obvious. Her knees felt weak. “I…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I wanted to be sure first. After my last job, I didn’t want to waste your time-”

“No.” He cut her off sharply, his voice quivering with rage. “You wanted to protect him. Be it because you fancied him, felt sorry for him, or have proper malice for this House, I don’t know. But you lied to me, Mirenna. To me.”

If she hadn’t spent most of her life learning to fight by his hand, been taught each strike and cut of a knife under his instruction, she wouldn’t have been fast enough to deflect his blade. She had to catch his offhand with her own hand, flesh meeting blade. He hadn’t given her enough time to summon her orb. Her backstep was cut short, years of training her giving him every tell and shortcoming she had as he hooked a leg behind hers and pulled. She tried to turn the fall, to twist in the air, but he snatched the front of her leathers in a fist, pushing her forcefully into the floor. He had a knife to her throat, knee pinning her chest, and his face a cold mask of indifference. She whimpered.

“Was this a solitary betrayal or have you been working against the House this entire time?” The words were calculated, all emotion drained from them.

A wheezing breath slipped free. “Viago, I didn’t mean-”

“Are you working alone against this House?” The knife bit deep enough to draw blood.

She could feel tears stinging her eyes, her heart breaking. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, wavering. “I am not a traitor.”

There was no warning of the strike. The dagger was pressed to her neck one second and then buried deep in her shoulder in the next. Her training allowed only a quiet choking noise in place of a scream, the pain white hot and blinding. Unbidden, her body reached for the Fade in self defense. She wanted to shout a warning to him as the familiar connection was made, unable to stop the electric swell of her magic, but there was an agonizing twist in her lungs instead. The magic was a screaming fury in her veins, molten fire replacing her blood. He almost had a look of pity in his eyes as she writhed.

“A clean entrance would have spared you that torture.” For a moment, he was simply her teacher again, no malice or disappointment in the words. Simple fact to teach a lesson.

She wanted to laugh. That hadn’t been dust. Viago would never have his home be that unkempt, she should have known better. Instead a choking wheeze slipped free, a smile that was more bared teeth than mirth on her lips. It all hurt.

“Did Dellamorte put you up to this?” He slipped so easily back into interrogating her.

“No,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears slipping free, “I was scared.”

The pressure on her shoulder lightened slightly. “That’s not enough, Mirenna.”

She struggled for a moment to pull in enough air to speak. He simply waited. “Wouldn’t have been fair.” Shallow breaths wheezed out the words. “His secret.”

“Is your loyalty to House Dellamorte or House de Riva?” He was leaning on the dagger once more and this time it dragged a low keening from her.

“To you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Still not enough.”

“Didn’t want to tell you.” Her teeth were grit as if she could cage the confession behind them. “Solas used blood magic. He’s in my dreams. Felt too similar.”

Through the haze of agony, she caught the brief flash of horror across his face. His weight disappeared and she pulled in a shivering breath. It left her in a painful fit of coughing, but she didn’t move otherwise. He paced twice from her to the desk and back. A manic energy seemed to hum in his veins. Distantly she could hear the sound of crumpling paper as he clawed hands onto the desk.

“I’m taking you off the contract.”

“Too late, Vi.” She was trying to smile again, a twisted facsimile. “No one else can do this. Too deep.”

“I am your Talon.” Swift and sharp, like a crack of thunder. “You work the contracts I say. You walk away when I say.”

Her head lolled slightly to the side. “Can’t put Solas in anyone else’s mind. That’s beyond you. Crossroads won’t know your next agent. Team won’t trust them. You’d doom the world.”

Something crashed to the floor, glass breaking. “Damn it, Renn, I sent you away to keep you out of trouble.”

“Trouble finds me.” She whispered.

A long silence stretched between them, the only sound her labored breaths. Faintly she could hear a drawer being opened, bottles being shuffled as he rummaged inside it. When he loomed over her suddenly she tried to smile. He dumped a vial into her mouth as her reward. Part of her wondered if he was simply done with her, the final draught he would gift. She swallowed it anyway. He was gone in the next breath and she simply laid on the floor waiting to see if death came to visit. The agony in her veins slowly burned away, leaving her with the throb of the knife in her shoulder. Slowly, achingly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her leg felt bruised from his strike, throat stinging from the knife, shoulder agony, body aching from the poison, hand screaming. But she was alive.

He was sitting at his desk again, his head resting in one hand as he poured over his paperwork. “Get out.”

She lingered on the floor, letting the pain settle into her bones, until he looked up just enough for her to see his eyes. They were sharp, furious, but in the depths, buried deep, there was guilt. He blamed himself for giving her the job, didn’t he? Her laugh was a wheezing bark, tears streaming down her cheeks before she could stop them. It was never supposed to be this messy, but wasn’t that the story of all her jobs? Swaying to her feet, she dragged herself to his desk. Wrapping a hand around the hilt of his dagger, she pulled it out steadily and deposited it on the nearest stack of papers. Ruby red blood spread like greedy fire across the parchment. With a half bow, she saw herself out through the door.

A trail of blood followed her through the apartments and out into the streets. There was a ground entrance she could use in the Diamond, a long climb along stairs back to the mirror, but it would be easier than the ziplines and trellises. She was maybe halfway back when a familiar shadow dropped from the rooftops next to her. She gave him a bright smile as he pulled his hood down.

“Oh, I think I know you.” She swayed on her feet as Lucanis braced her with a hand on her good shoulder.

“Rook, what happened? We’ve been tearing the Lighthouse apart trying to find you.” His concern was almost absent as he pulled at her leathers to examine her wound. He sucked air through his teeth. “Mierda, that’s deep.”

“Hmm, Viago doesn’t hold back.” She could feel a sob trying to claw up her throat. “He found out I lied.”

His face fell into a grim understanding. He ducked under her good arm, wrapping the other around her waist. “Let’s get you home.”

A wheezing laugh shook her shoulders as she leaned heavily against him. “I’d settle for the Lighthouse instead, I think.”

[purble-turble]

i can 100% see Nezha and mk's relationship (regardless if it's platonic or romantic) being equally beneficial and detrimental. like there so much they could help each other with but also subconsciously cause serious problematic habits/ thought processes/ coping mechanisums for each other and themselves the biggest thing my brain latched onto was how MK could become Nezha's first truly safe space.

Nezha going what i know and understand about his lore and what we can glean from the little we know in the show's canon, definitely has it rough in the celestial realm. he had a very troubled childhood and is clearly haunted by his past and is being defined by it despite his efforts to grow and prove that he's better now. he can command respect for his strength and power but people still question him as a person, always waiting for him to slip up. what relationships he does have he probably doesn't feel fully safe expressing his real self and thoughts because it poses potential risks. then mk comes into the picture. Nezha's given him a safe place to talk openly and he'd want to offer the same to the prince. even if he can't help directly he knows just having someone to vent to can help. its small stuff at first, little complaints here and there about work and the celestial realm, but slowly nezha starts to open up about more personal stuff. stuff with his family, with other celestials, and about his past. and to his amazement and relief is met with only empathy and understanding from mk, even after learning about the darker stuff MK never judges him. Nezha doesn't have to mask anything about himself around mk, infact he's being encouraged to relax and just be his natural self around him. he's truly safe when its just him and mk, that feeling has to be euphoric for the poor guy used to being on guard constantly even around the people he loves.

but of course, could easily lead to a mutually unhealthy co-dependency. nezha's already been isolated to some degree having never had much of a positive support structure, and mk's slowly isolating himself away from his established support structure. resulting in an echo chamber of two very well-meaning but very mentally ill people.

(i'm so sorry this turned into a short essay I've been waiting three hours to get of shift so i can spill my brains out about this. i have more but I'm going to end it here in fear that i'm being a bit much about these two)

Noo don’t worry about this being long, I absolutely love it!!

You’re so right, Nezha and MK are at the same time a good counterbalance for each other while also being accidentally self-destructive. MK is a chaotic lil gremlin who follows his emotions and worries about consequences later and Nezha (in LMK at least) seems to be trying very hard to come at things logically and approach from a more grounded, duty-based perspective. They both could use a splash of the other’s energy in that manner, so in that way it’s for sure a good thing that they’re getting closer.

Problem is, like you said, these boys are sooooo mentally ill 😂 The feeling that they need to constantly be proving themselves, giving a little more away every time, pushing their own boundaries and suffering in silence because it’s what someone else needs- these are things they might accidentally end up encouraging in each other…. Actually, probably not even accidentally. They see the other working crazy hard and being run ragged physically and probably emotionally too, and they’re like “I am SO proud of you for sacrificing so much!” ..and both of them have never felt so seen as when the other says that to them. It’s validating their worst impulses to just keep going and giving because their own feelings about it are less important than everyone else’s.

Also, the fact that they feel like they can expect to get that praise when they admit to being stressed might even make them be more open about it. Only with each other, though… if they were to mention feeling overworked or burdened to their families, they know already that they would not get the response they were looking for.. but again, even if it means they’re being more open, it’s still not a super good thing that it’s reinforcing destructive behavior. :U

[idkplzhalp]

Hi guys, here's a long nerdy ramble about my Caroline Portal 2 x Miss Pauling TF2 au/headcanons because I've had thoughts about them for years and TF2 comic 7 awakened it in me again to expand on it further. (This is huge I'm so sorry but I gotta keep my title of biggest CaroPauling shipper and I need to spread my truths). I tried to jam as many facts/reasoning as I could into it because I am Portal lore queen and canon info is so important to me to incorporate.

To start this, both are a bit queercoded (GLaDOS subtext of liking Chell + Pauling lesbian confirmation/subtext) therefore it's nice because they absolutely would get along, relate to each other, and being established as queer makes them fit like puzzle pieces together in my head.

(^ I think Valve artists should keep drawing Caroline so I can continue editing their comic versions together, lol, this is all I got)

I think Pauling after comic 7 should go to work at Aperture Science (since presumably she drops the australium down a trench and is living her life, based on the turkey she sends for the Christmas party- shes made the choice to stop Admins cycle and not be cruel like her) and now lives with Caroline as they run Aperture together being sapphics in loveeee. Also we know Pauling is still unmarried then because she keeps the Ms. term instead of Mrs. on the little card from the turkey (also it's the same last name, obviously). Therefore. Cue Caroline entering the scene, because she's not married either (at least not to Cave).

They could've met during the time of TF2 in 1968 because of the Wheatley Ap-Sap, so maybe they met and got along and then Pauling later remembered Aperture after dumping the australium and was like "Hey this is close enough to working for the Administrator". Like maybe after dumping it, she was left wandering a bit trying to find a place to live and sees a billboard for Aperture which motivates her to go there. She could work as an assistant/bodyguard to Caroline, especially in Caroline's time as CEO, or be taught by her how to work in the lab.

When Cave dies, Pauling could be sad because she knows Caroline could've had similar attachments to him that Pauling did for Admin. So she's A) trying to comfort Caroline while she mourns and B) reliving her own grief from Admin. Maybe trying to convince Caroline to break her own cycle of how Aperture is run or work with her to stop GLaDOS..

If Caroline still gets uploaded to GLaDOS, then have Pauling either A) put in stasis and then later during the co-op tests where they free the humans, GLaDOS tests her and is like "WAIT my wife,,, a woman who wont kill me,, I want her" and now Pauling gets to hang out in GLaDOS' chamber while they test other people, B) keeps the australium to protect it and uses that to live forever alongside GLaDOS, or C) is uploaded into a core, it could be the core in The Lab core calibration game that's late and ran to get to the slingshot test since Pauling and that core share a voice actress (Ashly Burch)! It could be that she has less in-depth functions because we know when a person is uploaded to a smaller computer, they don't retain all their memories or full functionality unless they are then switched to a larger mainframe like GLaDOS/CaveDOS (ex: Cave in Aperture Desk Job, unless we want Lego Dimensions Cave core or Cave cube to count too, which contradicts this). So we could make things tragic and have Pauling not remember anything from her human life/GLaDOS could be unsatisfied because we know she more often has romantic feelings for humans (Chell or if including Lego Dimensions then Batman (from the Jonathan Coulton interview on the end song)) and they're now trying to fix it so they fit together again. Maybe GLaDOS gives Pauling GLaDOS' old mainframe seen in co-op mode.

Though Pauling would have to deal with the personality shift from Caroline to GLaDOS and maybe is scared of her because it reminds her of Admin, although GLaDOS wouldn't be as abusive to her and maybe it adds something because of how almost in love/obsessed Pauling was with Admin (trying to stay with her for so long/thinking Admin isn't that bad/trailing her no matter what). It could be complex because Pauling is fighting memories of past trauma with Admin while trying to maintain her relationship with GLaDOS. Maybe Pauling could bring out Caroline's personality more? Pauling is also a bit like Chell (ex: very determined fighter) therefore I'm just gonna say that's GLaDOS' type aha.

Back to the human versions now. Because Pauling got a first name reveal, Flo, we could have Caroline take on her last name, since we don't know Caroline's last name already. Lesbian marriage solving a name crisis 💀. Caroline Pauling doesn't sound that bad!

I think these two would just work really well together since they've had similar experiences and could support eachother/understand eachother like they haven't had before. To me they're both neurodivergant so I feel they could bond over their interests/teach eachother cool stuff. Like Caroline teaches Pauling science and Pauling teaches her about weaponry. Also they could do the activities that Pauling listed doing with friends "skating, look at gun catalogs". Because of that I used to headcanon that Pauling rollerskates and Caroline ice-skates so they do those together. Also Gargoyles and Gravel! They'd dress up as a wizard and witch together when playing or something haha. Also the assistants clipboard of the year conference Pauling goes to with Bidwell, she could go with Caroline and Greg and they all fight over office supplies as they should be. Maybe Caroline teaches Pauling how to bake!

I think working at Aperture, Caroline either wasn't able to defend herself verbally or wasn't listened to, not really being considered or appreciated by the other employees. She's considered modest so I think she was likely conditioned to not appreciate what she did. She's brilliant and incredibly intelligent but being a woman in that position during that time, she was probably ignored by anyone who wasn't Cave a lot. So I'd like to think if she wasn't being listened to and Cave wasn't around, Pauling could swoop in and tell those people off since she's really blunt and will tell things how it is (like in the tough break update when the guy flirted with her and she told him to leave because she was getting people killed for money), and is now a scary guard dog privilege to Caroline, even if Pauling is still a tiny anxious woman and Caroline can probably fend for herself lol.

Uhhhhh and heck, let's send Cave's other assistant Greg to go help Bidwell and Reddy in running Mann Co. That could be really funny to see, I feel they'd all get along. They're slightly more rational than Hale so I think it would be interesting to see what they do with this insane company!

Okay I'm done now, pls tag me in any CaroPauling posts you see because I'm saving them all to my phone to look at them lovingly, I have a collection lol <3.

[dathen]

The Starecrossed discord is now up and running!

This is for fans of the Childermass/Segundus ship from Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. Members 18+ are welcome, so please confirm that you’re 18 or older when you DM.

I may be 10 (tv show) or 20 (book) years late to the party but these two aren't leaving me alone. "Dathen you really don't need to create a discord server for everything you get obsessed with" okay but consider: I had two (2) enablers

Please check out the rules below, and shoot me a message if you'd like an invite!

Racism, fatphobia, transphobia, aphobia, identity policing, etc. will not be tolerated. This is an inclusionist, queer-supportive space.

Be respectful to each other. We’re all here to have fun and together, but that will all hinge on how we treat each other! Please be respectful of others' boundaries, ideas, and preferences. Avoid cutting people off to change the subject mid-conversation. Keep in mind that we have members who are ESL, neurodivergent, etc, and may not be on the same page re: tone and jokes. All members are expected to generally interact on an adult level and take responsibility for their behavior.

Don't police or nitpick others' ideas. Don't insist others conform to your headcanons/popular fanon. Additionally, if an AU, headcanon, etc doesn't interest you, just avoid it rather than putting it down. While people may ask if an idea works in the time period, with canon, etc., avoid shutting it down even if you feel it doesn't.

Use spoiler cuts for commonly triggering content. Put a warning in parenthesis before the cut. For example, an in-depth discussion about how period-typical homophobia may affect the characters should be spoilered: “(homophobia) [[spoilered text]].” To add spoilers on Discord, put a double "|" on either side of the text.

NSFW content is limited to ⁠private-chambers-nsfw Spoiler cuts with a (nsfw) note are required outside the channel, though you may be asked to move to ⁠private-chambers-nsfw for more than a brief mention.

No dragging in outside drama. This includes from other fandoms, other discords, or venting about fans outside the server. We also ask that discourse topics not be brought up in the server.

Please avoid sharing sensitive private information. Examples: specifics about where you live, mental health issues, etc. Please keep in mind that this is a semi-public server that includes strangers.

[hunters-vigil]

The Archon's Baby - Chapter 13 - Parents

First Chapter Previous Chapter

Warnings: swearing, a nsfw joke, arguing, mentioned death, everyone's getting stressed at the impending abyssal attacks.

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.

"There you are, young lady!"

"Fuck me…" you immediately froze, looking at Mavuika with wide eyes.

"That is how we got into this situation." She remarked quietly, turning her head to acknowledge your parents, who had Chuychu and Chasca trailing behind them. Chuychu gave you a wide-eyed look, while Chasca avoided looking at you entirely, instead looking for a way she could fly away from this family reunion. If only she had seen your begging look, wishing she could take you away with her… but Chasca's soulsniper whatever it was called only had room for her.

"What exactly did you think you were doing avoiding the tribe, your family for so long? Come over here so we can ground you without shouting across the stadium!"

"Ground me? I don't even live with you anymore!" you retorted, raising your voice much to Chuychu's horror, as she mouthed 'calm down' at you.

"Yet we agreed when you asked to move out, that you would visit. You three have been acting strange since the family dinner over a month ago." Your father reminded you, watching as you winced.

That last family dinner was the day you found out you were pregnant.

"It's a long story. I can't come back to the tribe, it's just safer if I stay at the stadium, stay near the Sacred Flame." Your eyes remained on the floor, your hands shaking until Mavuika's hand brushed yours, your fingers tangling with hers.

"Archon? I apologise but this is family business-" Your father was cut off by your mother, much to the lack of shock of their three daughters, "why do you need to be near the Flame? You weren't contaminated by the abyss, were you? Chuychu specialises in the abyss, she could have helped you in seconds-"

"I'm not sick, I'm just…" you let out a sigh, cutting off your parents before they assumed the complete wrong thing.

"Just what? What's wrong, little one?" you could feel their concern as your father began to fawn over you, your stomach twisting as your heartbeat beginning to thud loudly in your ears.

"I'm pregnant."

The silence was loud, even your sisters didn't dare speak. At least nobody had asked you to repeat what you said. Instead you waited, Mavuika feeling more and more awkward by the second as she felt your hand trembling in hers.

"Can someone please say something?" you hissed through gritted teeth, fighting back tears as you heard footsteps.

"Go lay down. Doctor's orders, this stress isn't good for you. Chasca and I will handle mama and papa." Chuychu gently rubbed your back, coaxing you away.

"Chuychu-" your father began, but he fell silent at the look on your face. The same vulnerable look he saw when the patrol found you all those years ago…

"She's not a kid anymore, papa. None of us are." Chasca cut in, trying to keep the peace as Mavuika went to follow you.

"Archon? You never answered my question." Your father spotted her about to leave, while your mother continued to observe you, spotting the signs immediately as she just muttered to herself. How did she miss the signs?

"The baby is mine, Cusco. I'm dating your daughter." Mavuika would have stayed longer, but you hurried back over, taking her hand and all but dragging her away, in turn saving her from the aftermath of that reveal.

"And now we're both screwed…" you led Mavuika back to the Speaker's Chamber, heading through to the personal chambers.

"That could have gone better…" Mavuika confessed, bringing you into her arms as you hands ran over the top of your shirt, lingering over your belly.

"I'm eleven weeks. They'll either be mad I didn't tell them earlier, or mad in general- I can't even finish my spiralling because I have to pee! And you need to organise the defences of the nation for fighting against the abyss-" you rambled as you headed to the toilet.

"It is in progress, my love." Mavuika explained through the bathroom door.

"What about-"

"The Traveller is currently helping out the Children of the Echoes, but I've heard from Amina and Wayna that those two have been all over Natlan, to the People of the Springs and the Scions of the Canopy too." Mavuika already knew what you wanted to ask, observing you as you returned, covering your face with your hand to hide a yawn.

"Good, that's good… Mualani said something about exploring with them."

"You should rest, we can deal with everyone when they've calmed down…" Mavuika cooed, coaxing you into bed, where you snuggled your face into her shoulder.

"A nap sounds nice…" you whispered as your eyes began to flutter, and sleep took its hold on you. Mavuika rested her face onto the crown of your head, listening to your breaths as she held you close. If she could stay in a moment like this forever, she would…

///

Atea passed away not a few days later, may the Wayob grant her peace, for her story will be remembered.

You watched her vision extinguish from the glowing red of pyro, to a cold grey-ish silver. A masterless vision, now in your hands, at her request.

Mavuika had become ensnared in preparations for abyss attacks, especially with Mualani's awakening as the next Ancient Name bearer. Only two were yet to awaken, and the abyss would do anything to stop the plan coming to fruition.

Xilonen had greeted you after her meeting with your lover, looking over you tenderly as you two pretended like the geo vision bearer didn't know you were pregnant. Or that you knew that she had just chewed your lover out for breaking Kinich's claymore and her sunglasses, oh and the entire debacle of the Traveller's ancient name. Instead, she petted your head, informing you that if you needed anything, you just had to ask her.

Meanwhile, with your sisters… Chasca was patrolling more and avoiding going home, while Chuychu was all over the place helping with anyone who had been injured. An agreement had been made however, the three of you would return to the tribe soon. Even your mother was reducing her workload to keep an eye on you and your sisters. Despite your anxieties, Mavuika was attempting to hide her fears too.

You were fast asleep, laying on your side with pillows to support you, while Mavuika was behind you, holding you as you slept. Her fingers gently ran over your growing belly, yet to be showing but you were entering the second trimester, so at least she hoped she'd get to see it. The news that you and your sisters would be returning home to your parents made her heart skip a beat. The abyss would have sensed your pregnancy early on, but being away from Mavuika gave it the perfect attempt to strike.

Isolating you from your family, no matter how many secrets your parents kept from you, was not an option. Maybe if Xilonen had her motorbike, Flamestrider, fixed up in time, she could get to you quickly? Although Chuychu may decide to join Chasca in the previous plans of killing their Archon if they saw their baby sister on the back of Mavuika's motorcycle. She had a helmet made for you ages ago, but it probably wasn't a good idea. Pregnant or not.

It didn't help that Mavuika now knew the fate of your birth parents, but was it her place to tell you? Would you want to know that your birth parents were killed by the Fatui on Natlan soil?

The theory was that your parents had been fleeing the organisation, but your birth may have taken them by surprise, leaving them to try settle in the outskirts. The Fatui hunted your parents down and killed them, getting interrupted by the incoming patrol of the Flower-Feather Clan's flying squad before they could kill you.

Cusco and his wife took you in, they already had Chuychu, but you'd never talked about when they took in Chasca, or how old you had all been when all of that happened. If Mavuika wanted to learn more about your childhood, she'd have to talk to you or Cusco, although that may be off the table after what she told him.

Atea and Mualani had mentioned how as children, Chasca would get into fights and Chuychu would drag her around after to apologise. She wasn't sure how you fitted into all of it.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" you croaked, keeping your eyes closed as your hands rested over Mavuika's, on your belly.

Mavuika only hummed, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you let out what could be described as a purr, before you began to shuffle around, but she resisted it.

"Nothing that should disturb your sleep, my love. Just some things Atea said to me."

"I miss her." she barely heard you speak, but she couldn't help but agree, closing her eyes and burying her face in your back.

"I miss her too."

///

From your knowledge and presence in the Speaker's Chamber over the last few days, you knew that the Scions of the Canopy and the Adventurer's Guild in Natlan were working together to spread communications while Mavuika assembled and stationed her forces to defend against the Abyss.

Mavuika had mentioned giving Xilonen the task of making an Ancient Name for the Traveller, with a smirk on her face that soon shrank when you gave her a stern look.

"Making an Ancient Name for an outlander… I swear if that ends up killing her, I'll ressurect you both, and make you change all the nappies." Mavuika held back from flinching, fully aware that she would most likely not live to see your baby be born, let alone be around to help you post-partum.

"I don't think Xilonen's nose could handle that. Even if she did know-"

" She knows… we're both pretending she doesn't. You get the nappies. Xilonen… I wanted to ask her to help with a nursery, or just a crib? I don't think I'll be able to stay here after… you know." You stared at the map of Natlan, your eyes lingering on the Flower-Feather Clan. Archons, you missed the taste of volcano cake.

"Are you sure you want to go back? If there is an invasion, I will be unable to drop everything to save you and our baby. I know Chasca is strong, and Chuychu is smart, and you…" Mavuika let out a sigh, "are stubborn and passionate beyond belief. You will do anything you can to preserve the legacy of your people."

"No." You frowned, blinking back tears of frustration as you heard Mavuika's breath hitch.

"No?"

"I am preserving your legacy, our baby is part of your legacy. I may not be able to save you, but this baby is what matters to me too. I need my sisters alive, I need my parents alive, so this baby has more than just stories as they grow up…" you hands played with the hem of your shirt, looking Mavuika in the eyes as her sternness melted like ice cream in the sun.

"Besides, we're not going yet. Chasca and Chuychu can't decide when to go back, they both have so much work going on," you paused for a moment, "plus, they agreed that it would only happen after my next appointment with Mayahuel."

"Chuychu was not available?" Mavuika straightened her posture as you avoided looking at her.

"Conflict of interest. It's the twelve week scan, to check if everything is progressing, my health, the baby's health… We went over a lot of the details last time I had an appointment with her. Medical history was a little tricky but I just said everything I knew from when they found me. up until now." You explained, fiddling with the hem of your shirt again until Mavuika's hands rested on your hips. Warm…

"Tell me when, and I will be there. I refuse to miss out on more than I already will." Mavuika leaned forwards, nuzzling her nose against yours as you both closed your eyes, enjoying the close proximity.

"Of course… Just focus on locating Ororon and The Captain, and your usual of saving the nation in the meantime."

"You focus on yourself and the life growing inside of you." Your archon whispered, pressing her lips to your forehead before embracing you warmly.

[neverpathia]

I ended up rambling about a Sacrifice the Maiden Swap AU so here it is, I guess.

Think you got a teeny bit confused. This is a Swap AU, which means the Long Quiet is the Maiden to be sacrificed, and the Voices become her Vessels.

So these are all chapter titles for the Maiden. And these titles are for different Maiden versions of the Voices, pretty much. So they're all humanoid female princess-like beings now, though Fey does retain a few avian features like how Witch is still somewhat catlike, while Flight is just...straight up a bird lol.

Meanwhile, yeah we have catbeast Shifty as the slayer.

I'm just gonna use this reblog to blab about what I have going on, but I'm probably going to do nothing with this idea anyway.

You're in the midst of a dungeon. And beneath this dungeon is a chamber. And within this chamber lies a maiden. You're here to slay her.

Now what I've done here by making the 'Princess' a sacrificial maiden instead of a world-ending monarch kinda plays into my favour. Most of the Voices happen to be on the receiving end of cruelty (Hunted, Cheated, Broken etc) with less agency of their own. So I can keep them fundamentally the same, since you don't really think a sacrificial maiden retains much will for herself.

Also, pretty girl Voices. Don't mind if I do.

Where were we?

Yeah, you got it on the nose for why Oppy's the Fey. She's all trickery and deceit and honeyed words and crafted lies. Although...uh...asking for the Mound's firstborn would be a little strange, given how they're an entire giant cat monster thing now.

Well, Captive and Dame haven't exactly been gender-swapped from the base game Princesses, since they're both still girls. A dame is pretty much just a noblewoman, after all. And yeah, you do get them pretty much the same way as Prisoner and Damsel.

Here's where it gets different, though: the Captive/Skeptic is a lot more inquisitive and openly rebellious against her situation. Yeah, she's relatively calm, but she's by no means as stoic as Prisoner and she's quite expressive. She does care about getting out, but she also agrees to stay behind if you tell her to prioritise seeking the truth over her freedom instead. That's how you get one of her Chapter 3s.

Meanwhile, we have the Dame. She starts out with no agency of her own and ends up with a lot of it handed to her. You follow her whims and desires. You resist yourself and your goals for her sake. (And, yeah, there's a Narrator but she does not know he exists.)

So the Dame/Smitten isn't exactly like Damsel, but more like a cross between her and Tower. She really does think pleasing you is the point of her entire existence, but at the same time she feels completely entitled to owning you and making your decisions. Just Smitten being Smitten.

Trial...I don't really know, she's just an Adversary clone for now. Stubborn. I have no idea what to do with him. He's not exactly my favourite voice.

(FYI: The Blade here doesn't exactly symbolise your fear of the Maiden, but rather how much power you acknowledge that you have over her. If you don't bring the blade, you make it clear that you're willing to set aside a bit of your own agency for her sake. If you do, you're admitting that you have the upper hand here.)

(So when you don't bring the blade, the ensuing Maiden is a little more chaotic and quippy. Think of the blade Maiden as the reasonable albeit innocent Voice of the Hero, who clearly feels more reason to restrain herself and negotiate lest she get stabbed. While the no-blade Maiden is more like base game TLQ and his unstable dialogue options.)

YES. VICTIM. OH MY GOD. ALLOW ME TO BLAB ABOUT CHEATED HERE LET'S FUCKING GO.

And well, here's a thing. As I mentioned earlier, the Maiden inherently has less agency and is generally less threatening than the base game Princess. There's something new here.

So after you talk to the Maiden and decide to betray her, instead of "Give up" or "Finish the job", you get to "Have some fun" or "Make this quick". (After you kill her you also always get to pause and check if she's dead, but for the sake of this route let's say you don't hesitate to keep her down.)

If you decide to "Have some fun" drawing out the no-blade Maiden's death, you end up getting the Loom. Who is Paranoid. Let's face it, she now has every reason to be paranoid because this catbeast was nice to you and suddenly they decide to torture you for no reason. (Side note: you can also get Loom/Paranoid if you check for her pulse, and she does pull out a brief heart-lungs-liver-nerves mantra before stabbing you.)

But if you decide to "Have some fun" with the Maiden when you bring the blade at the start, you get the Victim. The Cheated.

She's the Victim because you fully intended to slay her from the beginning. You chose to wield the power in your hands from the very start, despite her innocence. You never spared her a second thought. You displayed that power. You seized every opportunity to wave it in her face. And you ultimately used it against her in the least merciful way possible.

But she still feels Cheated, because there was a moment when you were about to free her for good. But you still chose to betray her. And boy, is she pissed about that.

You came in fully prepared to hear the Loom out, but ultimately, you kill her when Narrator drops the blade down because of the looming stakes. Meanwhile, you just dangled freedom in the Victim's face before making her suffer in the worst possible way.

So yeah, Victim's kind of mad at you. She doesn't even give you a chance to speak when she hears you come down the dungeon stairs before yelling at you to "FUCK OFF!" And meanwhile, you get the Voice of the Slasher (Razor.) He's perfectly content to kill her over and over and over again because he is Razor and just kind of a freak.

Now, the Slasher/Razor is pretty powerful and can just take control of your body willy-nilly. Oh, you didn't bring the blade? Too bad. Your bones carve themselves out of the flesh of your arm. Oh, would you look at that! You're the blade now! The stakes are completely rigged against Victim/Cheated and she knows it. No matter if you try to talk to her or just straight up decide to slay her, Slasher just makes you charge at her and commit homicide.

You get Chapter III: The Roulette Wheel and Chapter IV: The Failed Gambit this way. And a lot of Victim/Cheated's complaining as she gets more and more cut up and pathetic.

But in Chapter 2, you can simply bring the blade and throw it at Victim/Cheated as a token of your goodwill, like in Witch. And in Roulette Wheel, there's still a chance to give up and resist. That brings you to... Let's talk about The Display/Contrarian first.

You get her in pretty much the opposite way you get Victim/Cheated. Don't bring the blade to the chamber, then Sacrifice the Maiden and Make This Quick when the Narrator drops it down. Then when the Maiden falls, don't check for a pulse because otherwise you get Fey/Opportunist who gleefully stabs you.

(To be honest, I'm not completely sure about anything yet so far. Ideas are still in development.)

The Voice of the Conflicting/Stranger is brought about with Display/Contrarian, as you don't exactly know where your allegiances lie. You eventually sided against the Narrator, but also with him before, but against him the first time. What the hell are you even supposed to be? Clearly Conflicting/Stranger doesn't know what he's supposed to be either. Is he even a singular entity?

Meanwhile, we have Display herself. Oh god. Oh no. She's not exactly too pleased that you took her life last time. So, she's going to make it up to you by ruining your day.

She's not very powerful by herself, but what can she do? Laugh it off while passive-aggressively making you the butt of all her jokes. And at the same time, she hopes she's being funny enough for you to warm up to her, make amends, and just take her out of there.

But she kind of does blame herself for trusting you and getting killed in the first place. Or not saying the right things or pleasing you enough for you to trust her. Or doing literally anything she could have done differently, for things to go a different way. And she blames herself for making you kill yourself, landing both of you in this new situation in the first place. She doesn't like being this maiden, being who she is. She hates herself for it.

Contrarian's called the Display for two reasons. One, at some point she literally just slices herself open with a piece of rock from the dungeon's floor, revealing her innards and keeping them open and exposed for you. Why? She thought it would make you squirm and that's funny. Besides, she's already dead anyway. Opening herself up isn't going to hurt her.

But to be honest, she almost wishes you would slay her again if she opens herself up to you like that. Her heart's right there in her open chest cavity. Then she could get what she really deserves. Then it would all just be over.

Two: all the acts she's putting up to make you smile, and squirm, and distract you from the reality of who she really is- it's all just a display for your sake.

So what if you break the one-sided cycle of violence with the Victim/Cheated, or push aside the Display/Contrarian's lighthearted facade and bring her issues to light?

Victim relishes her chance at victory and seizes the opening. She stabs you and you die, only for her to realise that she actually doesn't understand your game at all when you just let her 'win' for no reason.

Display can't stand the facts of her reality anymore. She stabs you and you die, only for her to realise that it can't solve anything either and she's only making it all worse.

Both of them just give up. And this leads to Last Chapter: The Grand Finale.

And it is nothing but grand.

You don't even know where the maiden is. You're just encased in this claustrophobic lump of organic matter. But if you push through this mass of flesh and nerves and wet meat and blood, then you see the true maiden trapped with you. A vulnerable, mangled female form curled into a foetal position.

This 'Grand Finale' is when the maiden begins to believe that there's no point in what they are anymore, and that the only thing they can really do is give up because they've always been hopeless.

And it's a bit like Cage blended with Fury. You can give in with her (because she can't escape it by laughing it off anyway, or because in the end she'll just lose again). Or you can make her realise that she doesn't have to force herself to do something that she can't, or be something that she's not. You could make her learn that she can just be.

So yeah. Here we go. Might be a part 2 or just straight up released in a fic.

so everyone's doing swap AUs and I was like. Why not.

make of this what you will.

[supgoddo]

Shitpost be upon ye ✨

[plushri]

As promised, my post on the lobby yesterday

Over 3000 showed up to lobby their member of Parliament and urge them to vote for the Scottish National Party's motion for an immediate ceasefire, to replace the current government motion for a stop of humanitarian aid.

The motion did not pass, in fact it did not even get voted on. Which is what the MPs came there to do.

"As the war in Gaza continues to cause death, destruction, and terror, with over 30,000 people reported dead so far, British MPs couldn't even decide how to decide what they think about it"

The thousands of people who waited outside Parliament were left in the wind and rain with no explanation, as security let very few of us in. I was there 3 hours and got nowhere near the front, people AT the front said they did not get in. The MPs knew we came to lobby. We have a right to lobby and speak to our MPs. We organised and showed up in our thousands, but Parliament didn't accomplish anything. What is the state of democracy in this country?

People of the UK, KEEP SHOWING UP FOR PALESTINE. Make the national demonstration on Saturday 9th March the biggest so far. Spread the word of it everywhere, encourage people you know to show up.

Our government is pathetic and spineless and they are panicking under our pressure. ONE HUNDRED (!) Labour MPs were planning to rebel against their leader and vote for immediate ceasefire. Do not let up.

[amplexadversary]

Wow. I have gone from a disappointed indifference to actively hating [character].

[mebis-reblogs]

I do agree this room is an example of multiple conflux cells being fused together

...or are they dividing?

however, I dont think the walls of these cells are as thin as karma gates, they seem to be a bit thicker/ have more layers, to account for several components and small pipes

I also think the cells are probably connected with each other with these large plug pipes

crude and probably not very clear diagram, would love to draw the cells in more detail another time (the cells and pipes would likely be tighter together)

side tangent but hold on, are these small components literally lego??

side side tangent before I get back to the puppet chamber thing but just realized the assembly/construct rooms are not rooms from the original memory conflux, but entirely new rooms where there used to be "nothing" (did pebbles decide a lil too late to build new conflux cells? or is the process so slow that it couldn't keep up with the deterioration of cells by rot?)(I guess rot could potentially spread very quickly, judging by the progress between survivor and monk)

now, the puppet chamber thing

Basically, below the tiles that cover the chamber's interior and act as screen for the projections, there's a grid of rails for the base of the puppet arm to move around in

this is also probably why the umbilical is external to the arm, so it can stay anchored to the connection point (multiple sets of complex data moving back and forth is easier and faster done with a static connection) while the arm moves freely and is powered sort of wirelessly

So, we know iterators not only have moving parts, we know that memory conflux is modular, being assembled and reassembled by backroom robot arms

On that note, have you noticed how pieces of the conflux cells are mounted over poles, as if the poles are a grid-rail of sorts?

Well, that's because they most likely are exactly that

Notice how the first step in the closing of a karma gate is a rapid deployment of poles to act as rails for the segments of the first barrier layer

Even puppet chambers aren't just segmented by projection tiles, but also by a grid made out of these rails (most likely for the arm to slide through)

[screampied]

࣪₊ 𐙚 YOU SAY IT'S BIG BUT U TAKE IT ?! ★

gojo, nanami, toji, sukuna, geto. you come home struck by a love curse and need their help on "recovering" from the after effects. (anon req)

𐚁̸ wc. 3.8k

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, feral reader, love pollen/curse, unprotected, sukuna has two dicks, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f + m receiving), squırting, biting, spanks, dumbification, overstim, brēeding, premature ejaculatıon, mdni.

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

“wha— you’re clingier than usual,” the curse grumbles as you burst through the door. you’re panting steadily. he was almost shirtless with his usual kimono that’s exposing his abs. rickety arms of yours wrap around his waist before you drop right down onto your knees. with a raised eyebrow, he huffs. “eh. should i even ask.”

“no,” you reply within a second. your voice inwas nothing but a pure trembly tune. your body . . it felt hot all over, some stupid pollen or whatever it was was responsible for your feral state. you were even smelling the definition of the word too. you were grateful he didn’t ask, alas instead—he crosses all of his arms before glancing down at you. pawing at his boxers to fall down, it comes down slowly. the wait was killing you as you glance at his huge hardened bulge preparing to be exposed. oh, you’re already drooling. you needed sukuna so bad, your thighs were already quaking. the air surrounding you both suddenly felt scorching and the minuscule goosebumps that reside amongst your skin felt even hotter. “i- i need a taste, ‘kuna. please.”

he hums in amusement. “oh? don’t let me stop you then, horny girl,” and an oversized hand grips onto the crown of your head. with a nod, he views as your eyes light up at the now hefty sight of his two flashy dicks. with a groan—he shudders once he gapes at your tongue and how it licks against the one near the front. “mhm, you little . . minx. good, take it then. enjoy your precious meal.”

sukuna’s in love with your mouth—with your tongue, you’re so sloppy and you just can’t help it.

running your sweet tongue along both areas of his dicks—every part, the base, the length, and even the sensitive frenulum—he groans loudly. it’s an almost roar that echoes through his chambers. both of his dicks which were visibly stacked amongst each other. one was in front while the other was in back. each were the same amounts of thick and broad. thickset and fucking heavy, you bob your head down against the first one until he shoots raw into your mouth within just a few minutes. “fuck, easy, e-easy,” he stammers, feeling you snake a hand against his neglected cock to stroke it, fondling with his heavyset balls.

hearing sukuna stutter does something to you. you couldn’t exactly describe it, but you wanted to hear more of it. his head tilts back slightly as his lips purse, preparing to click his tongue. “ugh, can’t handle you when you suck that good,” and he grabs you by the hair, making you return his lascivious gaze. “look at you. jus’ a cock drunken mess. got m-me,” and he deeply exhales. sukuna chokes on his own words, barely even able to finish his sentence.

you took so much out of him in such little time. truth be told, maybe this love curse whatever it was, was a good thing. spit races down both sides of your mouth as you happily keep his shaft warm into your tight throat. his cum was a lot, a bittery taste of his own lingers on your tongue before he cock taps against the roof of your mouth. if it wasn’t for you doing a simple trick with your fingers, you’d have gag. you wanted more, lathering your tongue against his tip with no shame—you then reach a hand down to play with your pulsing clit.

“mphm.” you mumble inaudibly, feeling him start to push your head further down. a chaffing smile goes against your mouth and he scoffs. you’re making him feel things. things he didn’t even know he could feel. sukuna’s cold heart significantly flutters at the sight of you. it flutters simply at how good you make him feel. it’s a feeling he didn’t want to stop. at least not yet.

“god, ‘m gonna cum again,” he inhales before exhaling lowly. as he does so, his chest collapses back in from his sigh before he’s now facefucking you. the curse’s thigh taps and clenches, muscles creating a flexion within the nerves stored inside before he sees you drooling for more. as the bobbing of your head’s tempo increases, he groans before making you stare dead into his eyes with a simple grip. “nasty girl. comin’ home just to slobber on my dick, look at that f-face, fuuuuck,” and the moment you end up making him cum for about the umpteenth time of the night, he’s embarrassed. face flushed, you’re switching between his dicks to give them both equal amounts of love before he moves you off from sucking him. “brat,” he glares, grabbing your chin as a few sloshing spurts of cum pour down your chin. sukuna then leans in to kiss you, his tongue tweaks against your lips and he tastes own arousal with no shame at all. shame never exists for a man like him—a cursed being like him. you moan, feeling a fang of his gently bite into your bottom lip before he pulls away. in a low, shaky tone, he grumbles. “wipe that smile off your face, woman. this isn’t o-over.”

☆ NANAMI KENTO

“my love?” nanami hoarsely pulls down the newspaper he was reading from his face. the glimmer of the g-shock he wore that wraps around his wrist ricochets against the chandelier hanging above the two of you. eyeing you closely, he leans back against his wooden rocking chair. “how was work? your boss take it easy on you today?”

“kento,” you breathe, getting right on his lap. you’re met with those same gentle fawn irises that’s captured your heart within an instant. a hand of his gently strokes against your waist before he watches you speak in such a needy way. “touch me— please, i want you so bad.”

nanami chortles lowly. “aw, i want you too honey.”

“no . . like, i want you,” and he sees how you’re glancing back at him with feral, blown pupils. nanami could tell how needy you were just from your tone and body language alone. he could never say no to you, his beloved wife. nanami knew you, and most importantly, he knew every inch of your body like the back of his hand . .

the moment he’s got you laid on your back, everything’s lost. it’s as if time comes to an abrupt stop. the moment you feel his thick cock ease it’s way into your cunt, you immensely swallow him whole. “so warm ‘n snug,” he whispers, bringing his lips toward your face to pepper various kisses against your skin. he’s so gentle with you, he always was. he cups your chin before giving you a deep kiss to distract you from the brief tang of you clamping onto him. “how . . do you feel? is this okay—?”

his low voice was so smooth—leisurely, he’s rocking his hips against you before he playfully nibbles near your chin. a hand of his intertwined with your fingers as he waits for your sweet response. “i- i feel hot,” you moan, throwing your arms around him. “more please, ‘ken. makes me throb when you touch me.”

nanami chuckles, a quick piston of his hips and your legs wrap around his slim waist. his cologne swarms around your nostrils before you whine again. you sound so pretty—melodious, each moan that escapes out of you sounds like a harmony within each lewdly musical moment that passes. “so the curse makes you more sensitive for me?” he coos against your neck, another free hand of his rubbing against your tummy. you’re just laid back, taking every appetizing inch of him and your eyes roll and roll to the very backs of your cranium. “my sweet girl,” and his voice—you could get off to it, you were already profusely pulsing from his deeply through strokes regardless. “i’ll touch every inch of this perfect body if it ‘cures’ you, mhm.”

his touch makes you more sensitive though. nanami was sensual, taking his time with you. his pace was not to fast or too slow. just right . .

his fat cock slowly jackhammers itself into you, irregular breaths sounding more and more jagged. as he’s talking you through it against the shell of your ear, you dig your fingertips into his back. as you run a hand down, you feel a tiny mole print against his skin. “kento, r- right there, riiiight there,” and you’re keeping the entirety of his waist hostage with your ankles. “cum in me, your cum’s gonna save me i think . . s-so, please.”

“you say such silly things sometimes, my sweet,” he whispers against your neck, giving it a long suck. you moan from his tongue flicking against the new mark he created before he’s quickening his hips just a tad bit. the bed creaks and sings, it’s as if it’s making a new mixtape with its noises. “but alright, if my baby wants me to fill her up so she can feel better, i’ll do that,” and before he shoots into you—he grabs your chin. “ah, but look at me though,” and he’s panting heavily, sepia-colored strands sticking against the sheet of sweat that goes against his forehead. “look at me. look into my eyes, wifey,” and he sneaks a kiss onto your trembling lips. thrusting into you at brimming speed, he groans. “atta girl, there she is,” he purrs at you, a thumb brushing against your quivering bottom lip. he looked at you as if he loved you, nanami was sweet but a secret filthy man at heart. only for you though. “wanna see that pretty face. think ‘m gonna give you a baby or two while ‘m at it, my love. f-fuck.”

☆ GOJO SATORU

“girl—could be a little nicer y’know,” gojo grumbles as you lightly flick him against his back onto the plump mattress. you were always no match for his unprovoked sass. with a teasing pout, he’s staring right back up at you as you straddle his chin. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you inch your pooling warm entrance against his face. “how do you even get struck by a ‘love’ curse anyway? thought that only happens in fan fiction, heh.”

“just shut up,” you moan, hovering over your boyfriend’s face. he was so pretty — just gawking at him alone had you going more feral. gojo’s eyes, they were always so ethereal looking. a bright blueish cerulean—almost a viridescent green with how it reflects against the bedroom light. “f-fuck, i want you to taste it so bad, ‘toru. want you.”

with an impish smile, he slides the side of your panties aside. “soooo, what are ya waitin’ for? let me eat this ‘curse’ out of you, angel.”

and the moment you plant your sopping wet cunt against his face, he’s ultimately determined to do so. gojo was a messy eater. it was really no denying it. you’re swiping your slick heat against his nose like a credit card and he eats it up everytime. drool pours from the corners of his mouth as he’s gripping your thighs with both hands. doughy padded thumbs of his pierce into your skin as you’re rutting against his face in rapturing pleasure. “like that baby, f-fuck.”

“go on—praise me some more,” he giggles, warm breath fanning against your entrance. your stomach caves and seizes in and out as you’re still moving all around. it doesn’t take long before your legs start to quaver. “call me a good boy, yeah.”

as much as you wanted to eye roll in the most dramatic way, you couldn’t.

you’ve got a firm grip into his white, snowy strands before giving it a solid yank. “g- good boy, ‘s good for me, ‘toru. think your tongue is working,” and your voice was so soft, its delivery was almost a mere whisper. gojo’s sucking against your clit, casually making out with it in such a sloppy way that’s he’s imitating a french kiss. you continuously pulse into his mouth, feeling him breath through his nose before he spanks your sensitive entrance. as he does such a thing, a splash of your own arousal goes onto his face. teasingly, he sticks out his tongue to lick it clean. “f-fuck.” you whine, and he starts to feel himself get hard. not from you calling him a good boy, but the view itself.

the view of you, riding his face, straddling him in such a sexy way makes him feel a raging hard on in his boxers.

oh, the way you were maintaining such eye contact.

so sensual, you use his face for your own pleasure, hearing your heartbeat arise at a more quick through your ears. the sharp edges of gojo’s teeth nibble playfully against your thighs before you whimper once he prods a lengthy finger inside. he’s located your g-spot just like that, immediately moaning aloud before his digit curls up into your gummy walls. “fuck, you’re so hot when you pull my hair, ‘s no fair,” and as you’re whimpering loudly, chewing on the skin of your arm—you end up finishing after a while.

the moment you do, you end up squirting a bit. it comes out in a tiny trickle—gojo’s face lights up as you’re struggling to keep your thighs open for him but he spreads them further apart for you anyway. “shit,” he exhales with a cunning grin, that smug expression you oh so desperately wanted to wipe off. “i didn’t know my girl was a squirter. maybe you should get struck by that love curse again,” and he licks against your pussy for a final time before spanking your folds. “let’s do that again. wanna get you real soaked tonight. i always like my girls messy.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“no way you woke me up just so i could fuck you.” toji deadpans, bringing a hand towards the hair that sticks against his chest, scratching it for four long seconds. two arched brows of his curl into a furrow before he grunts. “i was havin’ a good ass dream too.”

“toji i’m gonna die,” you protest, tugging at his boxers. “i searched up the symptoms a- and it said that if i don’t do anything um— sexual related, ‘m gonna die within four hours.”

“oh boo,” he rolls his eyes, and you moan once you feel the roughness of his palm squeeze against your ass. toji pulls you close to him, so close that you could feel the heat of his body radiate against your own. so close that you could smell his natural manly scent. the strong manly musk, his scent alone had you throbbing right inside of your laced little panties. in a groggy voice, toji leans in to suck against your neck, earning out a mewling whimper from you. “fine, but don’t be surprised if i don’t let ya cum. my dream was really fuckin’ good.”

knowing toji—he was probably dreaming about being a millionaire, but anyway . .

he happily helps with your little issue by fucking you thoroughly into the sheets. harp hips of his penetrate into you again and again. you whine, bratty cacophonous whimpers spew out of your lips as you cling onto the milky, pale sheets. it’s probably been hours, the entire room has a candied aroma of pure desire and intimacy. toji groans as your cunt clamps against him tightly. two scarred hands of grab ahold of your waist before pressing it deeper against him. “mhm, ‘s it workin’ baby? needed a good fuck, baby?”

“y- yes,” you moan, strands of hair almost blinding your eyesight by how it continues to get in your face from the quick paced movement. skin against skin—skin tight. everything felt heavenly. toji’s husky pitched groans only makes you throb even more before he leans right up closer against your ass. “harder, fuck me, ‘toji. pleaseplease. make me cum.”

with his own heavy huffs of breath escaping, he gets all the way up close before raising a foot to press down against your head.

a shrieking gasp comes out of you at the angle. he’s buried so deep now that your pussy stings and smacks from his sack. his hefty sack that hangs. kissing his teeth, toji rolls his eyes back from how good you squeeze around him before groaning once more. “goddamn, y’er a little slut. wakin’ me up for dick, ‘oughta edge the shit out of ya,” and he grabs a nice amount of your hair, making you raise up. the soft, delicate wool of his sock still glides against your skin and you moan from his rude, overzealous tempo. “yeah? should the baby girl cum, or nah. personally, i‘d say no. you were bein’ a brat. 'love curse' my ass.”

you try to sit up but he only pushes you back down, your face smushed against your fluffed out pillow.

“nuh uh, sit the fuck back down,” he snarls, swatting a soft palm against your ass. you’re so close—you moan again as he deepens his hits. his rhythm that was once so decent was now sloppy and merciless. toji’s fat mushroom tip thwacks and thwacks against your clit so much that you could feel it’s delicious curve. it’s a tickling sensation if anything—but the last thing you were doing was laughing. as he tightens his grip a bit, resuming to rock his hips into you, he purrs against your ear in a throaty chuckle. “heh, oh so you can’t speak now? thought ya wanted me to go harder?”

“i- i do,” you try to explain, but it only forms into a sweet meaningless babble. “fuuuuck, ‘s good but take your foot off me, toji. your sock is um.. wet.”

“your sock is um wet,” he mocks you before lowering his foot. you cringe as he pitches his voice—you don’t even sound like that. as he’s still having you arched over, watching as you then hide your face into the crook of your elbow. with a final smack against your ass, he pulls out before letting off an offended, tch. “ungrateful ass.”

☆ GETO SUGURU

“rough day?” geto slyly smiles, watching you struggle to walk into his room. he locks his phone to get a good look at you. you’re heaving insane amounts of breaths, pant after pant squeezing out of your full lungs as if you’d just got down with a marathon. “aw, let me guess. that love curse again? baby, you really gotta stop gettin’ yourself in these positions. it’s silly.”

“suguru,” you whine, collapsing right into his lap. the way you flop onto him was so cute—you’re met with a smug grin and dark, inky eyes that’s taking in all of your features. always so pretty. he smells so good, it’s driving you crazy. “wanna ride you.”

“you always ride me,” he strokes your chin, staring into your eyes lovingly. his hair was pinned into a unkempt yet attractive ponytail. geto gingerly wraps a hand around your throat before whispering against your lips. “so it is that lust curse again, isn’t it? careful. startin’ to think you’re doing this on purpose just to ride me, pretty girl.”

it works every time though—because within minutes later, you’re riding geto on the plump sofa. he was trying to multitask, trying to send an important email but your hips always snapped him back to reality. eventually, his phone slips out of his hand. geto groans at the way your rhythm’s got him in such a chokehold. you’re unhinged, playing with your tits right in front of him that he can’t help but feel against your soft mounds himself.

“s-shit,” he hisses, your body forever an image embedded in his mind that he couldn’t erase. your pussy squelches against his cock and you feel him reach such deep angles all at once. his girth was enough to make your mouth salivate with slippery saliva. mouthwatering, the upward curve of geto’s dick has you going stupid, you’re whining constantly before you lightly shove him back against the cushioned furniture. “slow down, you’re gonna make me c-cum quick, baby, goddamn.”

perhaps your hips alone were the enemy all along, you’re barely giving him a chance to breathe and it turns him onever more. how feral you were—he could see how blown and needy your pupils were. as you wrap your arms around him, still jerking your hips forward, you pull him into a deep, passionate kiss. geto groans right into your mouth, it’s guttural. playfully, you twirl a finger around his hair as you’re fucking him. geto’s hand placement was against your hips, long pretty lashes fluttering every few seconds before he gasps. “baby,” he huffs, a slippery strand of spit leaving your lips as he tugs away. with half-lidded eyes and a flushed face, he moans again, yet this time it’s louder, a bit more pitchy. “i’m gonna c- cum, shit your hips is gonna kill me.“

“don’t waste it p- please,” you plead into his ear, the soft breaths of your voice that exit from your throat makes his dick twitch inside you. you’re still grinding against him, the tempo was so speedy that it gives geto whiplash. he was truly witnessing his life flash before his eyes—all thanks to your precious pussy, featuring your crazed hips. he hardly doesn’t know where to roam his hands—but they remain glued to your waist, attempting to guide you closer. “inside, sugu. spill it ‘n me, make a mess.”

groaning—his head tosses itself back in rapture as he falls into his lewd, anticipated embrace. he’s feeling hot and warm just like you. the warmth your pussy provided him makes him bite his lip.

“fuck, fuck, f-fuuuuck,” he swears once you suddenly pick your hips back up. after a few seconds once you gradually slow down—he’s shooting a warm load of cum into you. so gooey, it fills you to the brim and you slow down finally, still swaying against him to make sure it’s fully plugged full. it pours into you all at once, a whopping amount of seed that’s so much that it oozes between the crevices of your thighs. you rode geto so good that he doesn’t even notice the sofa had ended up collapsing. the sound was short and concise—he’s moaning once you wrap a hand around his throat, feeling the vibrations of his grunts go against your fingertips. “phew,” he swallows, still dumping a good amount of ropy amounts inside before he goes limp against the couch. geto still has your hips in place before he’s gasping for short collected breaths. with glossy eyes, he notices your needy smug grin, not showing one ounce of fatigue. “again, huh? fuck, let me catch my breath first baby, you’re fuckin’ dangerous.”

[tender-rosiey]

plsss would u do sukuna taking care of his pregnant wife? like noticing his robes keep disappearing, only to figure out its his wife. or more dad!kuna 🙏🏾

robes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: me👰‍♀️ ➕ 👹heianera!sukuna

sukuna is a deeply preceptive man.

it’s something he prides himself over, and since he is observant, he quickly notices that his robes start going missing.

in the beginning, he thinks that it’s probably the increased number of bloodied robes because he has been going on a higher number of rampages the past couple of days.

so, he goes to uraume to inquire about why the delivery of his robes has been later than usual.

uraume quickly responds that they have been personally delivering the clean robes to his chambers and ensuring that they are placed where he can clearly see them.

the revelation makes sukuna annoyed because that means that someone has been stealing his robes directly from his chambers.

he is presented with two courses of actions—excluding the option of saving himself the trouble and just killing all the servants: sending uraume to spy on the whole ordeal or investigate it himself.

considering how he has been pretty bored the past couple of days, he decides on the latter. the past few rampages have given a clear warning to the rest of the villages surrounding his castle.

so, with nothing else to do, sukuna takes it upon himself to monitor the main entrance of his chambers to see whether anybody enters the room after uraume places the robes in the room.

so, he situates himself near the room but far away so that they can’t catch him.

he stays there for a good couple of hours, yet he sees no one, not even in the darkness of the night: the supposed prime time for a thief.

perhaps the thief has been made aware of sukuna’s inspection? but that would mean that the robes would still be in the chambers. so, sukuna enters his room in search of his robes, but, to his surprise, he doesn’t find them.

that immediately leads him to concluding that whoever is stealing his robes is someone who has access to the hidden door of his room.

and no one knows about that door except—

“y/n.”

you yelp and slowly turn to your husband. he is standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and an everlasting frown on his face. you have been caught and are in some big trouble.

you don’t falter immediately though. you try to act normal. you smile nervously, “yes, my love? is something bothering you?”

keyword: try.

he repeats your name lowly, and you quickly crumble. you visibly deflate and lower your head as you murmur, “yes…”

he nods in satisfaction before asking the awaited question, “where are my robes?”

your hands rest on your lap, and you fidget with your fingers.

you still can’t figure out what his reaction will be. so far, he is just gathering information. he is giving you nothing to work with, so you have no other option but to comply and just keep answering him.

sighing, you answer him, “my closet.”

he quirks an eyebrow and sits in front of you. his hand is placed on your head, and he raises your head, so you’re looking him in the eyes. it’s something that you have noticed only being done to you.

you had absentmindedly asked your head servant about it, and said servant, uraume, had told you that it’s because he views you as an equal and does not take pleasure in your fear and acting inferior to him.

and in the end, sukuna only does what pleases him. if it doesn’t please him then why do it?

he hums as if in thought before egging you on, “and why are my robes in your closet? in fact—” he smirks, eyes observing your frame, “why are you currently wearing my robes?”

you pull the robes tighter around yourself, and you purse your lips. sukuna wants an answer right now, and while he is enjoying your ‘suffering’, he also wants to know what’s wrong.

if there is anything that he hates then it’s not knowing, especially if it’s something about you, his very pregnant wife.

his hand travels to your jaw, and he grips it lightly.

“so?” he says as he tilts your head to the slide slightly.

“you…have been gone for longer than usual lately, and I have been missing you,” you admit softly as you try your best to maintain eye contact, but you end up looking away.

he is still silent, so you continue laying out your reasoning, “and for some reason, the robes alleviate the pregnancy pain. I couldn’t find any logical or scientific reason, but I think—

—it’s because the robes are filled with your cursed energy, maybe acting as a kind of assurance to the baby that you are beside us even if you aren’t.”

he doesn’t grace you with any reaction nor reply for quite a while, and it makes you think that he is probably thinking about how foolish the entire scenario is.

so, you add hesitantly, “or something like that…”

after a moment, though, he sighs and simply says, “you could’ve just asked me, you foolish woman.”

you blink confused, “and you, my ‘no one takes what’s mine’ husband, would’ve allowed that?”

“you, idiot, are mine, so my belongings are yours anyway,” he states, and his hands rest on your stomach, “this is mine too, so you have to take good care of it.”

a smile takes over your face, and you nod happily, “of course, I will!”

you pause for a second, and it has sukuna confused.

you frown and you point your finger at him while reprimanding him, “and don’t call me an idiot, mister! I am your wife, and I am blessed with a good name.”

a pinch is delivered to your butt which makes you shriek. you jump away from your husband and start rubbing the spot in attempt to soothe it.

sukuna smiles wickedly before suggesting, “how about I help you with that?”

“no! keep your hands off of me, you brute!”

he chuckles, and it echoes throughout the room. it’s kind of creepy. you always said that you wanted to add more furniture to avoid that situation.

you start thinking about the new design for the room when your husband speaks up, “and regarding my absence the past few of days.”

you turn your head to him, and he continues, “I will be putting my plans on pause for a while, so you don’t have to resort to the robes for the time.”

he turns his back to you before announcing, “I am expecting you at dinner and later in my chamber. is that clear?”

you feel giddiness fill you up, and you reply enthusiastically, “yes, my king!”

“good,” he smirks.

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