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mrwavellswaps · 4 months

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Step-Bro Switch Up! (Re-Upload)

Instead of a new story this week I’ve decided to re-upload an old favourite instead. As some of you may or may not know, the original version was completely wiped from the surface of the internet by Tumblr to the point where there wasn’t even a trace of its existence. I wasn’t even notified of this when it happened which feels like it’s own separate issue considering it was my biggest ever story but I digress. I thought that now might be the appropriate time to re-unleash this story upon the world and allow those who loved the original to enjoy it once again and for those who never got a chance to read the original to discover it for the first time. That said I’m hoping to come out with some new and fresh content very soon but in the meantime I hope you all enjoy this return of an old classic!

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I found myself waking up at 6:30am in the morning which was rather unusual for me but not so much for my body. I soon realised why though as a low rumble came from my stomach. With a sigh I slid out of bed, trying not to wake the other sleeping jock beside me in the process. I didn’t even bother putting on underwear, instead walking to the kitchen buck naked.

I waltzed up to the fridge, opening it up before pulling out a carton of juice. After taking a few huge gulps I lick my lips and let out a deep belch. Next thing I’m rummaging through to see what I can make for breakfast. Had to make sure I kept this big body fed after all. Can’t let all my step-brother’s hard work go to waste. Confused? Well let me start at the beginning…

———

A few years back not long after I turned 20 my mom met a guy named Devin who she soon started dating. Pretty big guy with a bearish ex-jock physique. He was 45 at the time so a similar age to my mom and they seemed to get along great. I certainly didn’t mind having some extra dilf eye candy around the house every now and then. I soon learned however that Devin was also a single Dad with a 22 year old son which certainly peaked my interest.

When I first met him I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. He introduced himself as Sam but I was almost too hypnotised by his looks to notice. He was the perfect image of a star college jock with enormous well rounded muscles that bulged under his clothes while standing at an imposing 6’3, practically dwarfing my lean 5’8 frame. And of course he was devilishly handsome too because the hot body wasn’t already enough, even having a great full beard that I was jealous of. I even remember how I had to hide my pulsing boner after he pulled me in for a quick bro hug, his manly scent getting caught in my nostrils.

After that Sam became a frequent part of my jerk off fantasies. Could you blame me? Not only was he the epitome of masculinity but my god did he have an incredible ass. Whenever Sam had his back turned I couldn’t help but have my eyes glued to those massive globes, no doubt stretching whatever pants he was wearing. Honestly I felt truly blessed to be able to spend time around such a man.

Anyway fast forward about two years and my mom had already gotten married to Devin. It was an amazing ceremony but for half of it all I could think about was how me and Sam were now Step-Brothers. We were truly intertwined now. I didn’t think the idea of that would turn me on as much as it did. That fucking hunk, my brother.

Shortly after the wedding however, the roommate Sam had been sharing an apartment with decided to move out and live with his new partner. At first Sam had been considering downsizing to a smaller apartment but when he brought this up I knew this was my chance. I pounced on the opportunity and told him I’d been thinking of moving out for awhile and that it’d be cool to spend some more time with my new brother if he was down for that. To my excitement he actually accepted and the next thing I know I’m moving my stuff out of my moms house and into Sam’s apartment. I was surprised at how clean it all was for the most part. Then again Sam wasn’t your typical dumb jock either, he always seemed very mature and put together.

The two of us got on pretty well living together. We tried to respect each other’s space and chatted a lot as good friends. Luckily I did well to hide my excitement whenever I saw him walking around shirtless, showing off his huge hairy chest, or god forbid only a pair of tight boxer briefs. The day I first saw that was the day I nearly creamed myself on the spot. Oh and while I respected his space when he was around, whenever I was home alone I couldn’t help but give into the devil on my shoulder before rummaging through his room. I tried not to take anything but every time without fail I’d sift through his dirty laundry, pulling out whatever sweaty clothes I could find and relishing in the smell.

For about 6 months that’s how my life was. Living under the same roof as my hot step-bro while trying not to let him see my dirty secret. That is until I found a certain little spell online. Pretty much I’d been searching up some fetishy body swapping stuff online and ended up stumbling across some weird body swapping ritual. Of course I didn’t believe it but the masses of comments on the page claiming it to have worked peaked my interest.

Next thing I know I’m up in the middle of the night waiting until I was certain that Sam was asleep before sneaking into his room. It didn’t take long for me to find the pair of yellow underwear he’d had on that day, giving it a quick sniff before stuffing it in my pocket and retreating back to my room. Once there I was able to start the ritual. I placed the underwear in the middle of a circle I’d drawn on the floor surrounded by candles before chanting some magical phrases that were supposed to enchant them. I can’t tell you how stupid I felt at that moment but I continued on anyway, finishing everything I needed to say before grabbing the underwear again. At that point all I had to do was wear it.

I yanked on Sam’s ‘enchanted’ yellow briefs with the hope that my wish would come true but as I’d expected, nothing happened. With a sigh I cleaned up the mess I’d made with this ritual stuff, feeling like an idiot as I did before heading to bed. I decided to keep Sam’s oversized briefs on though because just wearing them was making me hard even if I was still myself. I remember I’d begun to jack off in them, imagining how hot it’d be to see him wearing them after I’d stained them with my cum. That is until a wave of tiredness swelled across my body and before I knew it I was fast asleep.

It seems I must’ve underestimated that ritual because overnight something truly magical took place. When I awoke I already knew something was off when I noticed my feet hanging off the edge of my bed. I sat up in confusion only to feel much heavier than normal while looking down the bed to see a pair of much larger feet. Next thing I yank off my bed sheets only to find a massive, hairy, muscular body that certainly wasn’t my own.

Right away I was running my hands along the ridges of my abs before grasping the heft of my giant new pecs, loving all the fur as I was previously rather hairless. Jumping out of bed I was quick to discover that my lower body was just as hairy and impressive with huge quads, and impressive calves. And then it started to hit me. I didn’t realise it at first as I’d never seen it from this angle but these giant legs, these bulging arms, these bulbous pecs… they all seemed exactly like Sam’s! I was even still wearing his briefs which now clung tightly to my form as I didn’t fail to notice the familiar bulge in the front. Only… it was my bulge!

At that moment I knew what must’ve happened but my rational mind pleaded that it was impossible. Still I burst out of my room and made a beeline for the bathroom and what I saw in the mirror made me want to cheer, shout and most of all cream my new underwear. I saw none other than the sexy bearded face of my step-brother staring back in disbelief.

As you can imagine I spent the next 20 or so minutes inspecting every inch of my new muscle bound body. I did all sorts of poses to show off my physique in every way, pulled different kinds of weird faces in the mirror, relished in rubbing my hands through the full beard I was never able to grow before. Having the body I’d been lusting over for these past years at my disposal felt like some kind of lucid wet dream. But it was real! From my brother’s handsome face, to his giant muscle ass, to even his fat cock! All mine!

Soon enough I’d yanked off the underwear and started pumping my dick in ecstasy, loving how my hand only just fit the whole way around. Waves of pleasure cascading across my new body as I used my free hand to grope at my hairy pecs, the deep groans I let out only making me hornier. Before I could shoot my new seed however, I heard a scream come from what I can only guess was Sam’s room. Up until now I hadn’t even thought about the real him but judging by that scream I had only one guess as to what’d happened.

Instead of slipping the boxer briefs back on I decided to grab a towel instead and wrap it around my waist. I didn’t want him to think something was up to see me already wearing his clothes after all. With that I turned to the mirror one last time, scanning my face and upper body again with wonder. I still couldn’t get over it.

Upon entering Sam’s room I was somewhat surprised to see an exact copy of myself stood freaking out at his body. I should’ve been expecting it but it was still extremely weird nonetheless. Then, as he saw me stood in the doorway, he went silent. Naturally he was in shock for a good moment or two but as soon as it passed he began shouting a bunch obscenities at me. Demanding who the fuck I was and how I looked like him. He even tried to punch me which I’ll be honest wasn’t all that scary considering I was now twice his size.

Right then I knew I had a few ways I could go about this. I could admit that I caused this to happen, I could tell him that I had no clue how any of it happened, or even pretend to be completely oblivious and act as if I was really Sam. The horny devil on my shoulder told me to rub it in his face that I now had his irresistible jock body and that he was stuck with my unathletic one but I couldn’t. Sure we weren’t super close or anything but he was always friendly towards me and was never a dickhead so I decided to take it easy on him.

I pretended to be just as confused as he was, saying who I really was but not having any idea how this happened. I think I was pretty convincing. We ended up sitting in his room and discussing it for what felt like hours, going over everything that happened last night as Sam tried to comprehend the situation. Of course he only went on and on about finding a way to fix this and I had to pretend as if I cared, trying not to get distracted by my own body. In fact there were multiple points where I had to keep hiding the tent starting to grow under my towel because of how hot it was to look down and see a shelf of muscle sitting on my chest.

Eventually I was able to convince him that we weren’t going to figure this out any time soon so we had to start thinking about how we were going to live each overs lives. As you can imagine he wasn’t all that fond of this idea, protesting it at first but eventually came to see reason. I suggested we should start discussing all the important details we’d need to know but before that I wanted to get some actual clothes on. I had to try not to grin while telling him to get out of my room while I changed. Though I couldn’t help dropping the towel just before he left and showing off the meaty cock and impressive ass he used to have. I caught him glancing back with a look of envy, the very same look I used to give.

Of course getting dressed in Sam’s clothes was an erotic experience in itself. All of these large shirts, pants, briefs and socks that would’ve swamped my former body now fitting me perfectly. I must’ve spent at least 15 minutes or so just trying on different clothes while jerking my cock a little in between until I heard a knock at the door and my former voice asking what the hell was taking so long. With a sigh I tucked my new toy away and waltzed out in what I was currently wearing. A pair of well fitting black shorts and a large pair of black and white socks. I didn’t bother grabbing a shirt since I just couldn’t help but show off this bod. Could you blame me?

When he asked what I’d been doing I simply said I was trying on clothes. He knew there was more to it than that but decided he didn’t really wanna know. Instead we opted to both take a seat in the living room and start discussing things. I told him everything he needed to know about my retail job, which wasn’t a whole lot to be honest, as well as my friend group and what my daily routine was like. Afterwards Sam begrudgingly did the same for me, telling me all about his part time job as a fitness instructor at the local gym and that if we were stuck like this then I’m gonna need to learn how all gym equipment works and fast. He also gave me some inside info on his own friend group as well as walking me through what his football practice is like with the team. Part of me was worried hearing all this as I was beginning to wonder if I could really pull off being Sam but at the same time I was excited beyond belief to get into these social situations and convince people of the new me.

Thankfully it was Sunday so neither of us had a whole lot going on that day which gave us plenty of time to think and adjust without stressing. I spent most of it half naked and I loved catching glimpses of Sam glancing at his former body as I showed it off, even getting a little cocky by flexing every now and then which he didn’t appreciate all that much. Honestly I was surprised at how hungry I was as well and just how much I was able to eat. I mean I guess it made sense since a body this big needs a lot of fuel. Sam helped me a little with my meals though, making sure there was a bunch of protein and healthy calories to make sure I was feeding his body correctly. Later that day he also got me to head out for some cardio which I wasn’t too thrilled about at first but I actually kinda enjoyed it once I got running. I especially enjoyed my new sweaty scent that produced during it, not being able to help sniffing my pits when I got back. Of course Sam told me to go get a shower but before I did I couldn’t help swiftly grabbing him and shoving his face into my musky pits, laughing as he squirmed for a moment before letting him go. I apologised after through my laughter though I couldn’t help but smirk subtly as despite his face looking disgusted, the slight bulge in his pants told another story.

The next day however was when the real challenge started. After breakfast Sam gave me a list of what exercises to do at the gym. I’ll be honest I didn’t know half of them and had to look them up on the way. That walk to the gym however was the first time I noticed the difference in my interactions. Before people wouldn’t pay much mind to me but now as I passed people on the street I’d get some smiling and glancing at me, some giving me an envious once over, others even saying hi to me in a bit of a flirty way. Mostly from girls which even though I was gay I still enjoyed the flattery. Once I was at the gym though, I was in the zone. It’s weird but it was like muscle memory took over. I performed each and every exercise perfectly while loving the pump I was getting. Once again I was having to hide my boner at many points since I couldn’t help but get off to how fucking strong I was now. It did and still does feel absolutely incredible!

Later that day I headed to Sam’s usual football practice with a bunch of his jock friends. Initially I was worried I wouldn’t fit in but I somehow found myself easily slotting into the jockbro mindset and was soon laughing and joking with the boys. It was the same when we started playing, right away it was like my body just moved on its own, knowing exactly what to do and how to play. It was then that I realised I must’ve somehow absorbed a lot of Sam’s skill, know-how and personality when I took his form and I was gradually unlocking it all by putting myself in these situations. Although I don’t think I was playing as well as Sam usually does, not because of a lack of skill but because I was constantly distracted watching all those jock butt’s and bulges squeezed into those football uniforms. Surely at least one of them had to be gay right?

After getting home I found Sam sat on his laptop looking up all sorts of body swapping theory stuff. Of course most of it was fake but he was clearly desperate to get his body back. Sure there might be an off chance he could find the site I used but that a one way transfer according to the spell. Knowing this I told him to not get his hopes up and to just try and make use of the hands we’ve been dealt. As you can imagine he didn’t take that very well at the time.

From then onwards though, I’d say things were pretty easy. I easily convinced my new dad and former mom, now step-mom that I was their good ol hairy jock of a son. I was able to pull off being a fitness instructor with relative ease after going around the gym and using each piece of the equipment to trigger the memories of how to use it properly. I’d convinced all of Sam’s friends inside and outside of the football team that I was him. I’ll say that it took me awhile to fully get used to hearing my new name but whenever I did it was like music to my ears.

I’ve gotta say though, living with the former Sam was more fun than I thought it’d be. I figured it would’ve been weird initially after the switch and that we’d have to go our separate ways but even after just over a week of being Sam I was having so much fun messing with him. For example I almost never wore a shirt around the house, always showing of my huge hairy pecs and whenever I’d catching him staring I’d give a little pec bounce until he looked away in annoyance. I’d frequently pull him in for ‘brohugs’ where I’d either squish him against my chest or trap him under one of my pits until I saw him getting a semi. He’d alway deny having one though which is why I decided to set up a fun little experiment.

Turns out that Ian, one of the other jocks on the football team, was in-fact gay. Wasn’t hard to decipher after noticing his frequent glances at my ass in locker room, not that I can blame him, and how much he blushed when I gave his jock butt a slap after practice. Next thing you know we’re making out under the locker room showers while groping up each overs bodies. It was insane since before I would’ve considered Ian to be light years out of my league but now I had him on his knees with his lips wrapped around my shaft to which I then soon returned the favour. It was here that I got my experiment idea.

Yesterday after practice, I pulled Ian aside and asked him to come back to my place. He was quick to agree and before you know it we were stumbling into mine and Sam’s shared apartment. My former body jumped up off the couch and asked what Ian was doing here. ‘To have some fun’ I believe my response was being making out with Ian in front of him and dragging the other jock back towards Sam’s-well my bedroom. As Ian and I stumbled onto the bed, kissing along each overs bodies as we slowly undressed, I made sure to leave the door open just a crack.

One thing lead to another and before long Ian had his face buried into a pillow as I buried my cock in his ass and I made no attempt to be subtle about, groaning and grunting and my balls smacked against that supple butt. Throughout our amazing fuck session I made sure to keep glancing back at the door and finally I caught exactly what I was waiting for. I saw none other than Sam peeking through the crack in the door and lightly tugging at my former dick. That was all the confirmation I needed that my little bro was just as much of a homo as I was no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

———

And that more or less brings us up to the present, waking up early in the morning with Ian fast asleep beside me and being called into the kitchen by my growling stomach. As I searched through the fridge to see what else I could find to satisfy my hunger, I heard a cough coming from behind. Whipping my head around I saw none other than Sam with a judgmental look on his face.

“Don’t gimme that look, you’ve seen all this before.” I say, shaking my hairy ass a little before flexing. Sam rolled his eyes. “No no no don’t act like you don’t love seeing me show off your body, I saw you peeking in on me and Ian last night.”

Sam’s face went bright red. “W-w-what? N-no I didn’t!”

Immediately I shushed him, not wanting to wake Ian before stepping closer. “Oh come on don’t lie, I know you jacked off to it. So what was your favourite bit? The part when you got to see me using your body to pound into another buff dude and fill his ass with your cum? Or the part where you watched Ian totally dominate me afterwards and go to town on your former hairy bubble ass?” By this point Sam was completely speechless knowing that he’d been caught.

With that I lifted up an arm, exposing one of my pits to him but this time I didn’t shove him in it. “Go on, you know you want to. You can try and hide it all you want but you love seeing me show off your body, you love watching me adopt all your little habits, you love watching me slip perfectly into you jocky lifestyle. Just embrace it lil’ bro” He stares at me then at my pit. I could see it in his eyes. Pure lust. And then just as I’d hoped, he gave in to it. I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear as he voluntarily presses his nose into my pit, huffing my musk like a drug. I was even more surprised when he pulled away and immediately dropped to his knees, drooling at the sight of his former cock.

“C…can I suck it?” He asked while grasping it gently in his hand.

“Only if you agree to only address me as Sam from now on, even when we’re alone.” I state looking down at his hungry eyes. He nods in compliance and with that I put a hand on the back of his head and press him down onto my dick, letting him slobber all over it. “But don’t get too used to this. I’m planning on making Ian my boyfriend in the future and I wanna be faithful ya know. So enjoy it while it lasts.”

With that everything has finally fallen into place. The old Sam has finally accepted our new roles, I’ve assumed my new identity perfectly and I might even have a hot new boyfriend soon. My life couldn’t be anymore perfect right now…

#male body theft #male body swap #stepbro #step brothers #brothers #identity theft #male transformation #age progression #straight to gay #musclegrowth #muscle theft #male muscle growth #hairy #jock #magic #permanent

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tojiscumdumpster · 2 months

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ toji fushiguro x his favorite customer (revision)

✧ summary toji has a little soft spot for his favorite customer that he can't get enough of.

✧ content warnings reader is a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. chubby!reader and inexperienced!reader. rich girl in her midtwenties, very needy! usage of profanity, standing missionary, oral - m!receiving, doggy style, mixture of praise and degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected, creampie and squirting, terms of endearment ─ pretty girl, princess, baby, baby girl, etc. softdom!toji with rough, passionate, and filthy intercourse. told in first POV ─ toji's. i got reader calling toji TJ, and i think that’s so cute pls.

✧ author's note happy birthday to my baby daddy toji fushiguro! we've been going strong now for years. just a little something something to celebrate him. this fic has been in the drafts since December. talk about black people time, old sksk. also, if you already seen the original of this fic on tumblr, it's mine lol. this is just a revision, so don't go around saying i copied someone! my writing has changed so i wanted to redo this and add some adjustments. i hope y'all enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡ AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND/OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.

When it comes to women I fuck, I treat them the same because at the end of the day, they pay me good money to stuff their pussy with cock.

Don’t really care if they're married either. I usually get the old, desperate broads that aren’t getting any attention from their husbands at home, so it’s my job to make them feel good for the night.

I don’t do favorites.

I damn sure don’t give discounts.

And I definitely don’t get attached. But the moment I met Y/N that all changed.

My favorite customer.

Never did I expect a younger woman to pay me to get fucked, especially when she looks that good.

I’m almost positive she has a line filled with fuckers that’s desperately wanting to know what this tight, wet pussy feels like, yet here I am, living their fantasy.

I fucked Y/N once.

Then, twice.

Then, again.

And again.

And again…

If I didn’t know any better, I’m fucking obsessed with her. Can’t even say it’s just for the money she’s paying me. Probably the best pussy I ever had.

No.

It is.

So fucking warm, and she takes dick well, too. I usually give only an hour or two to my customers, but for Y/N? I reserved the whole night to relish her pussy.

The perfect fuck to end my day.

Those soft, sweet-sounding moans that slipped through her full brown and pink lips, having my previous cum shot staining them had me running wild.

But it seems like I’m not the only one who’s sex drunk.

Cock is all on Y/N’s mind right now. Whimpering and crying how big I am and thanking me for giving her dick. Tears pricks those chestnut-colored hues and I’m in fucking awe. She’s so damn pretty.

“You know how gorgeous you look taking cock like this? Being a good fucking slut for me, princess?” I ask, being met with a nod and her moaning in response.

Y/N’s pussy talks to me. Wet noises spreading throughout the room while I have my arms hooked under the fold of her knees, fucking her recklessly to push past any intrusion.

She’s jumping with me every thrust I make, causing her tits to bounce obnoxiously. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on them like it’s my last dying breath, hearing that sweet whimper.

I belong in Y/N’s pussy, and she belongs to me, too, the way she’s gripping my cock and milking me. All of her cream and wetness drips between us and down my balls, and it feels fucking amazing. Every time I experience her velvet walls, I find myself becoming more animalistic, hungry and territorial over someone who should only be seen as a client.

But fuck, something in me says I would go batshit crazy if I ever found out she had other motherfuckers experiencing this.

Knowing how she looks when sweat coats her beautiful brown skin. How it feels to stretch her out and make her adjust to you. Just thinking about it makes me pound into her deeper and more aggressively.

“Toji, baby, yes. This feels so good,” she purrs. “Like that. Keep fucking me like that.”

I hum. “Yeah? This is what you wanted, right? Paid me to please this good pussy?”

By all means, Y/N isn’t a virgin, but she told me she doesn’t have much experience and I can tell by how tight she is.

Our sounds of pleasure resonate in the air, and I call her my good girl, praising how perfect her pussy is, to be met with her squeezing me and watery brown eyes.

“Toji… Toji… Yes. God, yes.”

“Keep using your words, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy,” I ordered softly.

“I love it so much. It’s so big, baby,” she tells me, slurring her words because of her lips still being on mine. “You’re going to make me cum.”

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not yet. Come taste yourself.”

Without hesitation, Y/N slides down to her knees and starts sucking my dick. I hiss at her swallowing me and the warmth of her mouth. She doesn’t take her time when sucking me off, immediately circling her head and throating me.

“Hot fucking mouth made to suck dick, huh, pretty girl?” I firmly grabbed her chin so she could look at me. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Open up your throat for me like a good girl.”

Y/N hollows her cheeks and bobs her head fervently on my dick, tightening her lips around me.

She sucks dick so fucking good, better than any other woman I’ve been with. And I just know I’m bound to bust quickly if she keeps doing this shit.

My hand finds the back of Y/N’s head to grip and I buck my hips deeper into her mouth, ensuring I hit the back of her throat everytime. I’m a fucking mad man when I begin fucking the gorgeous face, especially when she’s looking up at me with those big brown eyes.

A spoiled brat, prim and shy, who’s spending daddy’s money to get fucked and folded by an old bastard like me. Think I fucking developed a kink for this type because of Y/N.

I pumped into her mouth more aggressively until she began choking and gagging on my cock. Drool and precum coating her mouth in the process.

Any type of control Y/N tries to take, I push past it because I want to use that pretty little mouth of hers how I want. She needs to get her money’s worth when fucking with me.

“Going to fuck my cum deep down that throat of yours, and you’re going to swallow it. Got that?” She nods and I softly tap the side of her face. “That’s it. Keep those lips tight around me.”

“Toji, pl—please,” she slurs, causing me to chuckle.

“Hm, look at you. Trying so hard to talk to me while sucking my dick. It’s cute.” I slow down my quick thrusts, but replace them with more fervent ones, pushing me and her head down until my cock outlines her throat.

My balls grow heavy and obnoxiously slaps Y/N’s chin, a clear indication I’m about to fucking cum.

Grunting, whining, gasping like a little bitch for air because head like this has a fucker like me sounding like a broken mess.

Blood rushes to my groin and I start getting sloppy, feeling my muscles tightening and ache burning between my thighs. I’m close, so fucking close to filling her mouth with my release, then I can finish fucking that fat pussy.

Everything about this damn woman is perfect. Her pussy. How she sucks cock. That fucking chubby and curvy body of hers. A pretty face with loaded cash.

Yeah, she’s definitely mine after tonight. And I’m talking about anything lovey dovey. Meaning if I catch her being a slut like this to anyone else, I’d kill that fucker.

No hesitation. I-

“Y/N, fuck!” I grunt while cumming in her mouth. This load is fucking heavy, but she’s trying her best to swallow every drop.

I groan at the sight of Y/N touching her tits and palming her pussy, knowing how much she’s turned on, too. It’s like the vibrations of her moans pulls more cum out my fucking dick.

A mess I made on her face, but the joyful lust I see in her eyes tells me she doesn’t give a damn.

Good, because I’m not finished with her.

“All fours on the bed. Now,” I demanded. “Still gotta fill up your pussy.”

Perfection is what I think when I see Y/N from behind, arched back, ass in the air and pussy dripping, ready for me to fuck.

I force an arch in her back and plunge my cock in her tight little pussy with one deep stroke. Y/N gasps in the air and I take the opportunity to pull her up by the throat and start pounding her cunt.

Why the fuck is she so goddamn wet? She takes cock well, bud shit, I abruptly slip out each and every thrust.

“Keep me inside that pussy, baby girl. Stop fucking letting go,” I gritted in her ear. She reaches behind her to hold my dick and push back into me with a tighter grip. “Hm, just like that. So fucking good to me, aren’t you?”

“I need more dick, TJ. Fuck me harder, baby. I can take you,” she moans.

Begging for cock she’s already paying for… Shit, I get a kick out of how pathetically sexy she sounds.

I repeatedly slammed into her wet cunt, thrust after thrust, pussy creaming even further than before. If it’s one thing I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s how Y/N sounds when she’s being fucked.

My name drips perfectly from her lips.

Our skin smacking fills the air in the room along my hand striking her ass until I guarantee it’ll bruise in the morning.

“Look at this fat ass moving when I pound into this pussy. Fucking beautiful,” I growled.

“Toji, please. I… I don’t care how much… I’ll pay more. Just keep fucking me like this.”

I chuckle. “Atta girl.”

I see why motherfuckers catch feelings when fucking pussy. I almost feel tempted to tell Y/N that I love her while fucking her. She has pussy that’ll make a fucker crazy… Possessive… Jealous.

I applied more pressure to Y/N’s throat and pulled her against my chest. “You know who this pussy belongs to. Right, princess?”

“God, yes, Toji. You… it belongs to you.” Her voice comes off as a faint cry and I know she’s on the verge of cumming. Especially with how her pussy is pulsating around me.

“Mhm, that’s right. Dreamed of my fucking dick pounding this tight little cunt, now I have you mindfucked. Huh?” I pinch her nipples with my free hand and increase my thrusts. “You’re about to come for me. Aren’t you, Y/N? I know you are. I can feel it. You should see the mess your slutty pussy is making between us.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to, baby. It’s just… you feel good. So fucking good,” she whimpers, bouncing her ass back into me to meet with my thrusts.

“Maybe I should have you clean it with your mouth. Hm?”

I release Y/N’s throat to shove her face into the bed and deepen her arch more than before. My single hand returns to her hips to grip, pulling her round ass back on my cock to kiss her center.

Can’t get over how wet—how tight and warm this fucking pussy is. The harder I fuck her, the louder her pussy gets and I grunt, curse underneath my breath at hearing the sound of her muffled moans.

I don’t give a fuck if one of us catches feelings after this. Actually, I want her to. I want Y/N to be dick hungry only for me.

I want her pussy to smell like I’m the only fucker that’s been running through her. I’m even fucking tempted to breed this pussy just so she’s mine.

Why the fuck would I want to have sex with any other women after knowing what Y/N feels like?

“You take cock like a fucking pro. Look at you gripping me. Look at how this pussy is mine.”

She spreads her ass cheeks to feel every inch of my dick. “Fuck me, Toji. Harder. Fuck me harder, I’m about to cum.”

“Shit, me too, sweetheart. Such a perfect fuck toy. Going to fill you all the way up,” I rasped. “Fuck me back. Keep taking this dick.”

My thrusts are sloppy. I throw my head back and swear into the air and moan her name. My balls grow heavier and heavier until I fucking but and empty my cum inside her pussy.

And she’s right there with me, crying my name and thanking me for giving her toe-curling orgasm.

Fucking enjoy hearing my pretty girl thank me for giving her cock. She just looks so damn pretty when she cums, too.

Dark brown skin sweating. The sight of her ruined makeup with mascara running down her cheeks. Moans sounding like a broken record.

Yeah, she’s a perfect fuck.

My favorite customer.

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #anime fanfic #fanfic smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #toji x black reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x black reader

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donutz · 2 months

Text

Yandere Smiling Critters x male child reader[pt. 2]

Requests from Tumblr and Wattpad—!, but not really

(Minus the fact I didn't include you being turned)

—☆You are a human in this

Sadly, you couldn’t stay here forever.

You are home now. Adopted. You did spend your time at Playcare for a couple of years though, everybody knew you, everybody in Playcare that is. The critters and kids knew you, the staff knew you, Miss Delight knew you.

So you had a mark on the place when it was time for you to leave. To get your own house. You were happy to get a home, but sad you had to leave your friends behind.

Maybe you could revisit this place again. Come back. But you couldn’t.

Something happened.

8/8/1995

You don’t know what happened that day, but you guess it was something pretty bad. It caused the whole company to shut down. You no longer saw any commercials of the toys.

Rumors were spread around, maybe somebody died, maybe a toy hurt somebody, maybe.. Maybe an experiment happened.

Anyways. There was a letter. A letter in the mail, something that related to your old home. Find the flower?

Sure. Why not, you were seventeen, you can handle yourself.

Which is something you shouldn’t have ever thought, after what you’ve been through.

It’s been scary. You haven’t died yet, but death has wanted to shake your hand a few times.

You almost bumped your head on a metal pipe while passing through a dark hallway, nearly broke your leg because you wanted to jump off a platform, wanting things to go by faster.

You’ve been chased through vents, and ended up at a dead end. You didn’t know what to do. You almost got shredded. But, were spared.

“.. Huggy?” He stared at you, maybe he recognizes you, even after all these years.

He didn’t kill you. He let you down on the second level of the metal stairways with his arm, and went back to where he originally was.

Then you were solving puzzles, with a particular doll following after you.

But the doll got snatched up, by a spider. Mommy Long Legs. She did remember you, you were the one who wasn’t so good at the games..(for the sake of your life in this story)

But she thought you left her to die, so she still forced you to play the three games. The first game has Bunzo! He was hesitant to kill you, you were the kindest kid to him when you lived here.

And for the first time, you actually beat the game! He was so proud of you! He wasn’t proud of his unfortunate fate in the future, but at least he didn’t need to kill you.

Then the small Huggies. They also remembered you, so they were sparing you. You also beat that game! They were happy, letting out tiny purrs at your success.

Then Pj— Wait. Since when were you so good at these games? The last I checked, you failed every single one of them! Fine. I’ll just sabotage the game for you, to make sure you never leave.

You could see Pj coming out of his pug-a-pillar hole, and you were sweating a little. Hopefully he remembered you too.

He did, once he saw you he stopped in his crawling tracks, taking a pause. He missed your younger adorable face when he gave you a small bump on your back, signifying that the ‘game’ was over.

But he unpaused at the start of the music playing.

You escaped. Out of there. That’s fine. I could just chase you myself

Three chases. You got chased THREE times. How desperate was she to kill you?!

You were putting the blue hand on the scanner, when you heard Mommy’s quick steps towards you.

You looked behind you— Eyes widening from her abrupt appearance. For the fourth time.

The door opened! And.. Mommy got killed, by you, by your hands.

A hand crept out from the thin crevice of a metal door. It took Mommy’s left over body, to wherever. You didn’t know what it was. Where it took her. But thanked god(or not, depends on your thoughts) at the fact that you weren’t Mommy at this moment.

Now you are somewhere. The train crashed, and you could feel the back of your shirt being picked up. You were sliding down a pipe, into somewhere.

You don’t know where it was, but you needed to get out, fast.

Doing some parkour, you looked around, and saw a long tail(plus paws) crawling up inside a vent.

“... Catnap?”

You went through some doors, and ended up seeing where the crashed train was. Going somewhere, you could see the recognizable entrance you went to at age 5. The way to Playcare.

You could hear the sounds of steps. Hurrying up you went inside the much smaller train compared to the one you were originally in.

“My name is Elliot Ludwig.”

Hm. Those words you could remember.

“When you look around at the world today,” You repeated after him.

“what one thing do you think it needs more of?”

“Playcare!”

Even at seventeen years, you were still mesmerized by what was shown.

You looked down, and could see 3— no. Five creatures walking or crawling around, resembling the Smiling Critters.

“Oh.”

Some of the critters could hear Elliot’s voice continue about Playcare, eyeing the moving train.

They saw your shadowed figure. Not knowing who you were. But a light is shown on your face.

Bubba, Dogday, Kickin, Hoppy, and Bobby saw your face. You’re back?

No. They must be seeing things. You were gone. Away from them.

But Dogday could recognize those eyes. Your skin, your curiosity, your hair(if your hair changed colors, or texture after growing up, then.. Yea, he still remembered you).

“Angel?” (Even if you didn’t really save him, he’s going to call you Angel. Because I needed a nickname for you. Y’know, because I can’t list every single name of the people who’re reading this?)

The other critters heard his whisper. … Maybe it was you.

The train stopped. But you were kind of scared, were they like Huggy or Mommy? Were they going to chase you down?

“Ah shit.”

‘Language.’ Dogday thought, dogs have good hearing y’know!

You were trying to find a way for two possible outcomes of being down here.

A) Try to make the train go back if the critters try to kill you

B) Somehow reminisce in meeting your old friends

B sounded a lot more better than A.

And.. B did happen!

The 5 critters went over to the train, while you were standing there. Waiting for whatever will happen to you.

Dogday crawled over to you, it was you! Your scent!

He gave you the biggest hug while his tail wagged(really fast, it’s kind of crazy).

He was still fluffy even after these 10 years.

“Angel I missed you so much—!”

You were trying to hug him back, but a little too scared because of the critters staring into your soul.

Dogday noticed their silence and spoke up—

“Guys! This is Angel!! You don’t recognize him??”

Silence.

“THE ONE WHO WAS HIDING BEHIND PICKY..??”

“OHH”

“YOU’RE BACK?!?”

“I was thinking that it was him but I wasn’t sure…”

“ANGEL!?!?!?”

You were escorted out of the train, and were greeted by a bunch of animals pawing at you.

You couldn’t get a word in!

Picky, Crafty and Catnap came over, hearing all of the excited animal noises.

Now you were crowded by a bunch of animals. You were so tiny compared to them, so they had to be gentle.

So much noises were going on that even the smaller critters came over to see the commotion.

You were back home!

Now you can’t leave.

333 notes · View notes

everparanoid · 5 months

Text

Wholesome Delinquent Behaviour┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , smut, light Angst

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: consent is hot, it's all good till the backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Reader is Not Traveler, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Squirting, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, biting kink, inappropriate use of cuffs, spoilers for wriothesley story quest, No use of y/n, Past Murder, Minor Original Character(s), Facials, PWP, Blowjobs, handjobs, everything between reader and wriothesley is consensual

wordcount: 9.5K

synopsis: The first time you met Wriothesley was completely by accident. Not that you remembered it too well; if you did, he wouldn’t confirm it without putting you through a gruelling test. No, the first time you remembered meeting Wriothesley was much later.

You are a prisoner at Meropide who meets and falls in love with Wriothesley over the years of knowing him, and he falls harder.

Originally posted: 30.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: ''Safeword'' by TV Girl.

I don't own any of the artwork used.

If everything could come to a stop, just for something she says,

The first time you met Wriothesley was completely by accident. Not that you remembered it too well, and if you did, he wouldn’t confirm it without putting you through a gruelling test. No, the first time you remembered meeting Wriothesley was much later.

You wiped away the sweat coating your brow with the back of your dirtied hand, heaving a deep sigh. The production zone, despite being at the bottom of the ocean, was like what you imagined the hot springs of Inazuma to feel like. You wanted to go there one day—to Inazuma. Although the borders were closed to the outside, the stories you heard of the beautiful Sakura blossoms filled you with the determination to get there. One day, you would. You were sure of it. If you didn’t get struck down by their archon first.

“Inmate, stop slacking! Unless you don’t want to eat tonight,” the guard manning the floor yelled at you.

You rolled your eyes and continued hammering at the heated chunks of metal. Your arms were weak, and your palms were sweaty. It was times like this when you wished you had a cryo vision. You wished for many things. You wished you hadn’t been caught. You wished Fontaine were a better place. You wished that Monsieur Neuvillette felt even an ounce of sympathy for your case, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the court of Fontaine was as ‘fair’ as they came. The sky had down poured the night you were sent to Meropide. It was the worst Fontaine had seen in four hundred years. You hadn’t seen the sky properly since you probably never would. People rotted down here. So, all you could rely on was the glistening memory of bitter water, and your dreams.

It was better, you decided, to be punished here than in Sumeru, Inazuma, or even Monstadt. You’d been to Liyue once, but you weren’t there long enough to have a clear judgement of whether their form of justice would be any better. Then again you had been arrested before you got out of Liyue and they handed you straight back to Fontaine to be judged by your home region’s laws.

“Inmate!” The guard yelled snapping you from your thoughts. “You’re wanted at the administration area.”

You dropped your hammer, relieved for the break, and shoved past the guard on your way to the lift.

I thought the whole point was you were living on the edge,

“It’s your lucky day, kid,” another guard said as you meandered leisurely toward them.

This guard you liked.

Meropide inductions didn’t happen often. Most of the time the convict was thrown into their dorm and made to figure it out themselves. In the instances of special cases, you were brought out like a friendly face before the storm. You had no clue why it was you they chose, but you always got paid handsomely in credit coupons, so the particulars didn’t matter to you. You had long since abandoned the idea of fairness down here where the sun doesn’t shine.

“What have we got this time?” you asked cracking your knuckles.

“A kid, your age.”

You paused. It wasn’t often you met people around your age down here. Everyone was either one foot in the grave or an adult.

What could this kid have done to end up down here with the downs and outs? You looked out the large glass window, it stared out into the deep blue Fontainian waters. The sea was dark, so you guessed it must be night. Time was more of an idea, a concept if you will, down in the depths. So, you enjoyed rare moments like these to re-calibrate yourself. It was a shame. You had hoped to at least feel the sun’s rays through the water’s refraction, but it was like you said beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The lift lowered down behind you, and you turned to greet this so-called new inmate. You were greeted by a tall scrawny boy, probably not even a year older than yourself with dull icy eyes and jet-black hair. He was drenched in that same bitter water.

You put on your brightest smile and offered your hand.

“Welcome to hell,” you said.

Not your best work but it caused a small snicker from the boy, and your favourite guard who stayed close by. Strange. They never stayed around. Were they that concerned about your ability to induct a fellow teenage delinquent?

Wriothesley paused. When he was given his verdict by the Monsieur Neuvillette he didn’t expect such a warm welcome. Well, warm as far as being greeted at its entrance.

He didn’t take your hand, instead opting to stare at you with those haunted eyes. You were disheveled at beast and downright filthy at worst. Nothing to sing or dance about. Nothing to fall head over heels in love with either, but you didn’t care. Who wanted to find happiness in misery anyway?

“Hell?” Wriothesley echoed. His voice was steady and stern like he was aged beyond his years; by the lack of life in his eyes, he probably was. “Is it that bad down here?”

You shrugged one shoulder.

“Depends,” you said.

“On what?” he asked, calculating. You could feel his brain working from where you stood.

Fascinating.

“Depends on how stupid you are,” you looked him up and down, chewing the inside of your cheek absentmindedly. Then, as if a rocket had been shot up your butt, you spun on your heels and gestured for him to follow with a lazy flick of your wrist.

He did so, catching up to you easily with his long legs and just as long stride.

“I didn’t catch your name,” you said as the lift doors closed behind you taking you down to the actual entrance of Meropide not the fancy entrance for visitors too afraid to see the truth. Fontaine was a giant opera, and you lot in Meropide were the hidden stage crew, slaving behind the scenes after losing your spot in the limelight.

“You didn’t ask,” he responded flatly from beside you.

“Clearly that was the hint for you to tell me.”

“It’s Wriothesley,” he said.

It didn’t sound like it was his actual name. Hell, it didn’t sound like a name at all, but who were you to judge? Meropide was a place to start a new; to redeem yourself from your sins, and nearly burn to death in the production zones breaking your back for an administrator who was a tyrant. What was a kid reclaiming their identity going to do to you?

“Nice to meet you, Ricecake.”

“Ricecake?”

“Hey, you give me a name I can’t pronounce you live with the consequences, Ricecake.”

The doors opened and the lift groaned as steam poured out of its pipes and vents. Some unfortunate soul was going to have to clean those later, and you prayed it wasn’t going to be you. You had a burn on the inside of your arm from the last time you cleaned those steaming pipes, it was a jagged ugly thing to look at, so you kept it hidden. Out of sight out of mind, right?

The receptionist sat behind the desk looking as melancholy as everyone else in this place. Wriothesley was going to fit in just fine, you thought, as you remembered that same almost dead look in his eyes.

“You coming?” you asked the boy who stood gawking at you from the lift. “It won’t take you back up you know. I mean you can try. It’s your sentence you’re lengthening.”

“You don’t recognise me?”

“No?” you said. “Should I?”

You tried to recall when you would have seen him before but only drew blanks. You’d seen so many of the same faces and watched so many of them die that telling anyone apart was a pipe dream for you. However, for some reason, you knew that Wriothesley would stick in your head. Not just because the name was so peculiar but because something about him intrigued you. He didn’t seem upset down here yet. No, he looked curious. Curiosity was dangerous. Curiosity got the smartest people in here killed or beaten half to death. No, Wriothesley stuck in your head because he reminded you of hope.

So, when those sounds start to drift down the hall, and stat to freak out the neighbours,

“No coupons, no meal,” the chef said, his voice booming through the place. You wondered over questioning who would be stupid enough to get into conflict with the head chef. He was a burly man, tall with a glassy eye and a wooden spatula the size of a person. The rumour was that he had been a Fatui skirmisher in the overworld. The truth was he was like every other soul in here, beaten and trapped. Upon seeing the familiar woolfy black hair, spiked in random places you inserted yourself into the conversation.

“Sorry about that boss. He’s new,” you said to the chef.

He waved his beefy, greasy hand at you to leave.

“Don’t let your friend come back unless he has coupons. This isn’t charity,” he said with a thick Snezhnayan accent.

“Gotcha,” you said and gave the chef a salute. Hooking your arm under Wriothesleys, you pulled him out of the cue. He nearly tripped over his foot. You dragged him to a secluded table a little away from everyone else, where your singular special box of bread and curry waited for you.

You let him go.

You pointed to the wall where it read, ‘If a man will not work, he shall not eat.’

“Sit,” you commanded pointing to the chair opposite yours.

Wriothesley stared at you like you had grown four heads.

“I have no food,” he said.

“I can see that,” you responded, opening your box and letting the steam waft out. Both of your stomachs groaned at the same time. It had been a while since you had had decent food from the chef, it would be even longer till you had another one; credit coupons weren’t easy to come by and they were better spent on other things like making sure you didn’t get smothered in your sleep.

“How much did that cost?”

“More than you’ll make in your first year,” you said breaking up the bread in your hands.

He gulped dryly.

“How do you know that?”

“You’re a fresher. You’re basically free labour until you have some experience behind you, and some meat on your bones. You’ll be lucky if they pay you a tenth of what you should be getting in your first year. Unless you can fight.”

You let your words settle in the silence between you.

“What did you do?” you ask.

“What?”

“Your crime? What did you do? The guards treat you like a danger to humanity,” you said glancing at the guard who watched you both intently. You could understand them glaring at you but why him?

Wriothesley shifted in his seat, straightening up as if preparing for something.

“I killed my parents,” he said.

He didn’t say anything more than that, he didn’t need to.

You blinked.

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

You let it sink in for a minute and then nodded.

“I will not be offended if you run, after all this is the entire truth,” he said bluntly. His stomach growled again, and he clutched it willing it to silence itself.

“We’re all crooks and criminals down here,” you said. “But that doesn’t mean we are all bad.”

He lifted an eyebrow at you. You supposed it was because he was expecting you to run. Which meant he obviously didn’t know you.

“What if I am just a bad guy?”

You shrugged. It was not like you were the dog’s bollocks yourself.

“I have a good enough instinct to know that you aren’t, Ricecake,” you said and pushed your now broken-up bread and curry meal toward him. You were going to regret it. You hadn’t eaten a full-fledged meal in three months, but still, you gave it anyway. “Eat.”

You would have wanted someone to do the same for you when you got here. Friends weren’t made under the sea. His eyes widened and his pale face brightened for the first time since you had met him.

“This is yours,” he said, sounding flabbergasted.

“Now it’s yours,” you said. “Eat up and get some rest. You need to be strong if you want to survive around here.”

You noticed something in his eyes then, a spark. It was dull but it flickered. Your stomach flipped again.

You took a sip of your water before pushing it over to him. He was going to need it more than you.

“Thank you,” he said.

You shook your head.

“There is no need for thanks between us. See it as me looking out for a fellow delinquent.”

“Delinquent?” he said taking his first bite of the bread drowned in curry sauce and rolling his eyes in bliss at the flavours. He began to hoover up the box like it was running away from him.

You remembered when you were like that with every small crumb of bread you got when you first got here. Your stomach flipped. What kind of hell had Wriothesley come from?

“Slow down buddy meals like this don’t come around every day,” you said. “Take it slow, no one can kick you out of here to work anyway. Seems they’re too afraid of us.”

He did as you said. Licking off his fingers, he looked around the floor at the glaring stationed guards and occasional inmates. He faced you his eyes glimmered with light like a shooting golden star flying across an icy sky.

“So, how do I get them to trust me?” he said leaning in.

You leaned back in your seat, your arms crossed and a smile on your face. You were sure now, that feeling in your stomach was hope.

remember that it's good, clean fun,

“Happy Birthday!” you grinned, setting down a box you had smuggled up from the cafeteria into his room. He raised a brow up at you. It was the 23rd of November, the day he’d decided was his birthday; the same day he was sentenced to Meropide.

“Ah, thank you,” he said politely. His stomach growled at the delicious aroma coming off the box revealing, despite his calm thanks, his eager anticipation for your yearly gift.

Guilt riddled him, as he dropped the gauntlet he had been upgrading, next to the cashflow machine he had found and tinkered back to use. He had wanted to pay you back. Every year, on the day he arrived you came with a box and another ten pieces of meshing gear for his tinkering, and as much as he secretly loved it, he felt like he wasn’t doing enough to pay you back.

It had been six years and yet he hadn’t gotten you a single thing he considered worth the amount of your kindness. Aside from a necklace with a piece of meshing gear that he had forged into a Cerberus insignia. You wore it everywhere. You wore it then, the rustic insignia rested on your chest. He had already put aside the pieces for a matching bracelet, a little trinket from him to you. A subtle hint to show that you were his, even if he hadn’t said it yet.

He unravelled the box and two tea bags fell out of the wrapping.

You picked them up and shook them before him.

“Tea for the occasion,” you said.

He smiled and closed his eyes.

“I fear, you know me too well.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know your favourite colour,” you said, brewing the tea in the teapot he kept on the wonky table.

“I don’t have one.”

Meaning he couldn’t choose one without them all tying to you. Maybe it was the colour of your hair, or eyes, or even the colour of your lips, he’d stare at those often. Too often lately. He was staring now. He looked away.

“Well, I guess I do know everything about you,” you chirped.

He thanked you as you handed him a cup of tea with two sugars just as he liked it. You knew these things. It wasn’t like you had spoken about them. No, you had been around him so much in the last few years that these things came naturally to you. It was like breathing. You sat beside him on the ground. Your tea warmed your hands.

“What else does the birthday boy want on his birthday?”

He fought back the blush though he was sure the colour still painted his skin.

“Nothing.”

“Come on! There has got to be something?”

Wriothesley shook his head and opened the box.

“Okay then if you insist. Share this box with me?”

“But it’s yours.”

“And I want to share it with you. Are you really going to deny me on my birthday? Remember, you are the one who asked what I want.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine.”

He broke up the bread inside one of the compartments in the box, the same way he'd watched you do it countless times. You reached in and dipped a large unbroken piece of bread into the soup before bringing it up to his lips. He stared at your hand.

“Open up. Come on, birthday boy, if we are sharing then you’ve got to have the first bite,” you said.

When it became apparent that you weren’t going to give up any time soon, he opened his mouth enough for you to slip the bread between his teeth. Both of you without the other's knowledge held your breath when he bit down, and his lips brushed the tips of your fingers.

A shiver ran through your body, one you knew would follow you to bed and into your filthiest dreams.

He pulled back and quickly cleared his throat, as he chewed without tasting.

“It’s delicious,” he said.

“It is,” you choked out, though you hadn’t tried it yet.

He didn’t bother to correct you, too lost trying to calm the riot in his chest. When he felt like he had better control of the battle in his chest he picked up a piece of bread, dipped it into the curry sauce and held it toward you. You blinked.

“You should try some too. You know since we are sharing and all.”

You took a bite from the bread letting the flavours wash over you. They too were lost to the way you noticed his eyes watching your lips enclose around the bread. You nodded and covered your mouth as you chewed.

“It is good,” you agreed, with a mouth full of mush.

He nodded and looked away from you, scooping up another piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. You would have thought he was unaffected until you saw his ears were deep shade of crimson.

Just wholesome delinquent behaviour,

“What’s this about?” You asked as he guided you with his large cold, calloused hands over your eyes. You envied his cryo vision, and his ability to stay cool down in that heat pit. He hid it well, but you knew he had one. You’d seen it one day by accident and not breathed a word about it since. Vision holders were targets down here and the last thing you wanted was to put him in any more danger.

“Patience. Don’t you know all good things come to those who know how to wait,” he said.

He had dragged you out of the production zone after finishing his work and disappeared off like he usually did only to reappear an hour later with that confident stride he had. You barely ever saw him these days, but when you did it would be like he was still the fresh-faced delinquent but older. You were both older. He guided you into a seat and then removed his hands. You missed the cool touch on your skin. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the poor lighting.

“What is this?” you asked, staring at the giant box in front of you.

You looked up at Wriothesley. It had been twelve years since he came to the fortress and the once soft baby face was gone, lost to the grit of Meropide. Wriothesley commanded the trust and respect of everyone around him much to the administrator’s dismay. When you were working away in the production zone, to he would be off swaying the inmates and the guards, working his natural charisma on those around him.

“What happened?” You asked reaching up and grazing his split lip with your finger. He caught your wrist and dipped his head out of the way flashing you a half smile. He had grown even taller over the years and now you had to reach up to touch him. He glanced at the ring on your finger, and you snatched your hand away, your face flushed with embarrassment.

“I won some more coupons,” he said.

In reality, he had scrapped up the coupons that he’d hidden away in the case of a rainy day and used them to buy you the meal. A week earlier he had lost all his accumulated credit coupons in a single night to the Fortress’s administrator.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Is that so?” he sassed. “I suppose I should write a will.”

Your expression darkened.

“Kidding, of course,” he said.

“Of course.”

“I went to Sigewinne,” he assured you. “She said I would be fine as long I rested.”

“Good,” you said.

You turned back to the box.

Metal screeched on the floor as Wriothesley pulled his chair closer directly across from you. The place was unusually empty—only a few guards manned the area, but no other inmates could be spotted on the floor.

“So, what is this?” You could smell the faint fragrance of something familiar. Something you hadn’t smelt in years.

“Open it,” he said and gestured with his chin to the box.

You gave him a cautious look and lifted the lid. Inside sat four rolls of bread and two bowls worth of curry. Your heart fluttered. When you looked up at him, he was already watching you; his icy eyes shining like stars. You didn’t want to think anything of it… to hope. Hope was stolen from you. Hope led to you becoming trapped in a loveless engagement with one of the crooked guards.

“You really did it?” you said and ached a little inside.

This was supposed to be a happy moment but all you wanted to do was weep bitter water.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his toned scarred arms over his chest. He looked so broad and solid; all that boxing had morphed his physique into something godly. “I told you I would pay you back.”

“That was twelve years ago, and this is more than triple what I gave you.”

“I added the interest,” he said.

“Why now?”

He looked down at your ringed finger again and frowned. His brows drew together in the way they did when he was annoyed or thinking more than he was going to let you in on.

“I’m going to fight the administrator,” he said bluntly.

You paused mid-snap of your bread.

“You’re going to fight the administrator?” you repeated, unsure of whether you heard him correctly. “Your sentence is up. Why would you do that? You’re going to die.”

He shrugged.

“I refuse to watch people suffer under the crooked ruling of a tyrant,” he said and eyed your ring again. Your finger felt like it was on fire; you dipped a bit of bread in the curry and handed it to him. He waved it away.

“Why are you like this?” you said, and dropping the piece of bread into the curry, you watched it drown and disappear into the thick liquid. “Is it not enough that you’ll be free?”

You blinked back tears, your hands clenched on your thighs. You had watched nearly all of his fights and every single time your heart was in your throat. Every time he bled, every time he shook hands with his opponent; every time the ringleader held up his beaten-up arm to declare his victory. You hated it. You hated all of it.

He said your name with a tenderness he reserved only for you. A tenderness you didn’t want to hear. A tenderness you blocked out with everything in your soul.

“Is it so strange that I would want to fight for those whom I promised a better life out of genuine care?”

“Why did you do that?” you yelled, your voice came out harsher than you intended but it was too late to take it back. That was the thing about words, they could never be unspoken. He cleared his throat.

“As I recall, I didn’t come here to live under the thumb of another driver, and I thought you would understand that more than anyone else, but I see now that I was wrong and clearly you have been broken down after all.”

You bit down hard on your lips, and your jaw clenched so tight that you were sure you would crunch a tooth.

“Ric—Wriothesley. That’s not fair,” you whispered.

“Indeed, it’s not but it’s the truth.” He glanced away for a second. “Look, I am in love with you, and I have been for the last twelve years. I can’t simply watch you be with someone you hate just to get a sentence lowered that you still won’t tell me about. I could have helped you. I am helping you. I’m helping everyone,” he pushed his chair back and stood.

“…What?”

“I’m fighting tomorrow. Show up, if you have some time, of course; or don’t, but I’ll be looking out for you. You can find me in my dorm before then.”

You fought back the urge to chase after him, to slap him, to kiss him, to hold his hand, to hold him so tightly and cry the way you haven’t been able to since the day you were convicted. Instead, you didn’t. You sat in silence and ate the bread and curry watching your heart walk away from you.

Oh, remember your safe word,

His dorm room was across from yours. It was sparse like everything else in the underwater fortress. A pillow and scatty blanket lay atop a barely functioning mattress in a corner. Wriothesley sat at the small table barely standing on its uneven legs. A tiny pot brewed a herbal smelling tea, and two teacups sat in front of him.

“You came,” he said barely above a whisper. His confidence was a quiet one.

“You love me.”

“Would you like some tea?” he asked, gesticulating to the second cup in front of the spare chair.

You had been in here countless times; shared many cups of tea with him; helped pierce his ears and manage his wounds; watched him shadowbox the air as you sat crossed-legged on his bed; you had wondered what life would be like if Meropide was a better place; you had wondered if the people you left behind missed you as you laid next to each other on his floor staring at the giant fan on the ceiling. Not that either of you had anyone but each other. Wriothesley had said his siblings were strangers to him, and he was probably a ghost they would never want to see again. An unfortunate reminder of something they’d all rather forget, but he never forgot. He refused to. He lived his truth.

Every time he told you about his past you worried about how his view would change if you if knew your truth. However, Wriothesley never pressed too hard, never touched buttons he knew you didn’t want to be touched. Instead, he watched and observed, and took in all that you were willing to give him, just to see a glimmer behind the cracks of your mask.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

“Please.” He gestured to the chair. “Sit.” he filled your cup.

You took your seat and shifted around, unable to find comfort despite it being your usual chair. Feelings always made things feel different—uncomfortable. You knew this. Yet you still felt the discomfort, nonetheless.

“How did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t but I hoped and thankfully you didn’t disappoint, but you never do,” he said, filling his cup.

“No need to be modest with me, Wriothesley.”

“I am anything but modest with you,” he said your name softly.

You gulped. Wriothesley wasn’t one to mince his words, though tact was his favourite game.

“You must have heard about it already?” you brought the teacup to your lips taking a sip of the liquid. Credit coupons bought anything in this fortress, even the finest tea. “It’s all people can talk about when it comes to me.”

His expression darkened.

It was only a matter of time.

“You do, and yet you still love me?” you asked.

“I recall someone once telling me that we all are crooks and criminals down here but that didn’t mean we were all bad,” he recounted the words you had said to him when he arrived nearly verbatim. He leaned onto the table, and it shook on its uneven legs from the added weight. “Besides, I like hearing stories from their source.”

“Then ask.”

“What got you incarcerated?”

You took a deep breath. What did you have to lose? He had heard worse rumours.

For some reason, you cared about what he thought of you. You knew that feelings were fickle things, and yet, you cared that he loved you. You loved him too.

“Mariticide,” you said cooly, breaking the ice.

“But you were—“

“A child, I know.”

“I was illegally married off when I was eight years old to a man, twenty years my senior.”

Wriothesley remained neutral, you took it as your sign to keep going.

“He didn’t do anything to me until my twelfth birthday and then it started. At first, it was just touching and then it got worse. He was an influential Fontaine nobleman. One of the maids tried to help me report him but it didn’t work. So, one night when he came to my room, I had hidden a butter knife under my pillow. I castrated him and ran away, fleeing Fontaine. I wandered through Sumeru and then to Monstadt but even the city of freedom couldn’t protect me. So, I kept moving. It was when I was on my way through Liyue that the authorities caught up to me. The maid who had tried to help me was sleeping with the man and hence reported me. The hearing was quick, and I was put away fast. No one wanted to consider the implications of a thirteen-year-old being married to a thirty-three-year-old whom they all dined with. I heard he died a few years ago but my sentence keeps getting extended every time it gets close to the date of my term. I suspect it’s the maid. I was supposed to be here for eight years and well, I am still here. That’s why I must marry that Guard.” You took a long sip from your tea and then placed the cup down. “I’m damaged goods,” you said.

Wriothesley remained silent. He looked to be thinking of something and you had never seen his expression so dark.

“You’re not damaged,” he said, “and he’s lucky he lived after that.”

You smiled. It was a bitter smile; one filled with more exhaustion than remorse.

“Luck favours the rich.”

“If a man will not work, he shall not eat,” Wriothesley said, reciting the famous lines that painted the walls of Meropide.

You raised your teacup at him before taking another sip.

“Jokes aside, thank you for telling me,” he said.

He stood up and you feared he was going to ask you to leave. You wouldn’t be sad, at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself, but the sinking feeling came all the same.

He offered you his hand and you stared at it. Your brows furrowed before you hesitantly took it. He pulled you up to your feet. His cold hand intertwined with yours.

“Can I hug you?” he asked.

He’d never asked this before. Did you look like you needed a hug? Because you wanted one.

“Please,” you choked out.

You would never have described Wriothesley as warm, but when he held you in his arms and you heard his heart racing you couldn’t deny that he was undoubtedly warm. A single tear rolled down your cheek. Then another, and another, and another until you were sobbing into his shabby inmate shirt.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I know.”

You’d been holding onto these feelings for so long. Letting them fester inside you like a sickness. No one had ever stopped to hear your side of the story and you thought you were okay with that. You thought if they stayed away from you then you could pretend to be like every other inmate brought in for stealing a slice of cake meant for Lady Furina. You thought you could hide your truth, but behind every fake smile, you wore it on yourself like a body of armor.

His shirt crumpled in your hands. He swayed from side to side and traced tiny circles on your back with his thumb.

“You did what you had to do. If he was alive, I’d kill him,” he said.

You wiped your eyes and looked up at him. “Please don’t fight tomorrow.”

He brought a hand up to your cheek and brushed away your tears. He decided then that he hated your tears, and he would do anything to see to it that you didn’t feel that way again.

However, he hated the idea of you living with this pain more. He hated seeing that diamond on the finger where his should be. He hated it even more that you knew that he hated it before he had admitted his feelings for you. If his resolve hadn’t been solidified before now it would be completely. He would free you, and if you decided you wanted to be with him once you sprouted your wings, then he would accept you with open arms. He wouldn’t put you in another cage. He’d hate to see your heart break because to him you were his heart.

Wriothesley’s attention dropped to your lips; they were wet with your tears. He leaned down and brushed his lips to the corner feeling your sadness.

You turned your head at the last moment and captured his lips.

He froze.

You gripped his shirt tighter and reached up on the tips of your toes pressing your mouth further into his; willing him to reciprocate. Your first kiss with Wriothesley tasted like bitter water. It was soft and desperate. It knew what it was without the need for words or discussion.

His chest heaved as he pulled away.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered.

“I won’t…”

He wouldn’t—at least not tonight. Although, he didn’t know whether it was day or night outside of Meropide. The underworld was a different world entirely. It never truly slept. It didn’t adhere to the rules of the sun or the moon. It was filled with endless possibilities. Possibilities that could alter both of your existences and if he couldn’t free you above ground, he knew sure as hell would free you below. Although, one night of keeping you safe in his arms couldn’t hurt.

You sat down on his mattress. You looked so much smaller than he remembered, then again it had been twelve years.

He recalled your soot-covered face, and dull eyes when you had greeted him, the day he arrived at Meropide. The day he had begun his new life; his birthday. Although the circumstances weren’t great, he knew from the moment you said, ‘Welcome to hell,’ that he would love you.

He sat beside you.

“Tell me what you want?” he said, earnestly.

You leaned into him.

“I want you to be yours.”

It was true. You wanted him. Engagement be damned. Even if it was just one night, you wanted something for you. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was asking for too much, but you didn’t care. You had spent too long denying yourself the things you want to maintain a peace no one else upheld.

Wriothesley gripped your wrist and groaned what sounded like your name, but you couldn’t be too sure.

“Give me a word,” he said.

“What?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he began.

“I am not fragile.”

Though in front of him, you were.

“I know you are not. Give me a word so I know to stop if it gets too much for you.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and rested his forehead against yours.

“Time,” you breathed.

That’s what you wanted—time. Time to love him, time to live, time to take back all the things you regretted and start again. Time to meet him before you both became who you were.

“Okay,” he said, leaving a kiss behind your ear. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

Only tonight. He reminded himself.

He could promise you that for certain. He couldn’t promise tomorrow, not because he was a pessimist but because he knew tomorrow was never certain. He had you now. He would make sure he had you forever but now would have to be enough. He would make it enough.

“Yours. Completely,” you said.

Another tear rolled down your cheek.

He pulled off his shirt.

Your mouth merged with his, your tongue slipping into his open mouth tangling, exploring searching. He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes closing despite the desire to see every expression on your face.

You broke the kiss and leaned back pulling off your shirt. His eyes dropped to your breasts.

“Just for me,” he whispered, taking them into his hands and kneading them slowly.

He traced kisses down your neck, wishing to mark you, to lay his claim to you. He wouldn’t however, not yet…not tonight.

You fiddled with the string to his bottoms, untangling it and reaching in to feel his erection. He groaned against your neck unafraid to let you know how good it felt. You grasped his cock. It was thick, thicker than you expected, and so hard. You needed both hands to grip him properly.

“Take off that fucking ring,” he hissed upon feeling it on his skin. You did, taking off the ring and dropping it with your shirt on the floor. You gripped his cock again, your hands feeling so much lighter without the mental weight of the ring.

“Harder,” he growled as you stroked him.

You tightened your grip watching as the crease between his brows grew. He rolled his hips into your hand.

“Oh, that’s it,” he panted.

You bit your lip and focused on the reddened tip.

Your thumb brushed the crown wiping away the drops of precum. He jolted, his jaw unhinging, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You froze and released his cock. He opened his eyes, worried, only to see you on your knees between his legs.

He opened his legs wider and slid closer to the edge of the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and gripped it in his hand as he used the other to keep him up on the bed.

“Go on,” he said. “Show me how much you want me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Gripping, his cock you gave the tip a lick listening to his pleased grunts. Slowly you took him into your mouth, enjoying the sensation of his hand gripping your hair.

“Good girl, taking me so well.”

You were soaked just from listening to his praise. You slipped a hand into your underwear and began rubbing your clit.

His breath quickened, and his mouth felt incredibly dry from his inability to close it. His hips jerked, as you took him deeper. He heard you gag as he felt your throat quiver around his cock. He pulled out, letting you catch your breath before he thrust back into your throat. Your eyes rolled and drove a finger into yourself.

You bobbed your head keeping up with the brutal pace he was setting. You loved hearing his grunts and groans; you loved feeling his cock twitch and his pace stagger as he got closer. Despite how hard it was, you looked up at him. His mouth was agape, his eyes barely open. You released him just when you knew he was going to cum.

Wriothesley opened his eyes to see you waiting, mouth open, your mouth and chin dripping with saliva. You looked glorious.

“You’re stunning,” he breathed and released your hair, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping it until the first spray of cum splattered your lips. “So perfect, with such a pretty mouth.”

You licked your lips and opened your mouth again, leaning closer till the tip rested against your tongue.

Wriothesley felt like he was in a dream or heaven or both.

“Swallow it all,” he panted as he pumped the rest onto your tongue.

You did so, licking your lips and opening your mouth to prove it.

At the sight of your flushed face, your blown lust-filled eyes, and your hand deep in your pants, he found himself hardening again. He had promised tonight, and tonight he was going to have. If he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

“Get on the bed right now, naked and on your back,” he ordered.

You shimmied off your work pants and your underwear, laying on the bed under his hungry gaze. He stood and stripped the rest of his clothes away before joining you on the bed. It was barely big enough for both of you, but he was going to make it work. He kneeled before your closed legs.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Just good?” he teased, a smirk on his lips.

“Mhm just good,” you responded, reciprocating the expression.

“Oh, we’ll have to fix that,” he said, and scooping under your thighs, he opened your legs and pulled you closer to him.

You giggled at the speed at which he had your legs wrapped around his waist and his hard cock pressing against your soaked folds. He caged you between his arms as he rolled his hips slowly.

“I love you,” he said, staring into your eyes.

“I love you too,” you responded.

“I know.”

He kissed you with everything in his soul. At some point, he knew you loved him even if you hadn’t said it till just now. He knew it like how he knew the back of his hand but hearing it made it even better. It made it real.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your soaked hole, pushing in the tip just enough to feel you quiver before pulling out and running it over your pussy again.

“If I fuck you, you’re mine. No one touches what is mine. Do you understand?” He asked

Your heart stuttered.

“I understand.”

“After all, no one will be able to fuck you the way I can. Once I’m inside you unless you tell me otherwise, I’m not stopping until we both see stars,” he said, making sure he looked straight into your eyes as he did.

This wasn’t a game for him, he meant every single word and you knew it.

“Wriothesley, there will never be anyone like you.”

He groaned and slid in. Your back arched at the sheer size of his cock stretching you beyond your limits. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, grabbing onto the sheets for support.

“Breathe, relax,” he whispered. “Hold onto me.”

He continued to slowly push in bringing his knees closer giving him the right angle to get in as deep as possible. He gasped upon seeing himself completely disappear inside you. You tightened your legs around his waist, and dragged him down gripping his back, locking you into a mating press.

He waited till the need for release subsided before he began to move. The shitty bedframe, not built for the purpose it was being used for, squeaked, and hit against the wall. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and stifled cries joined the air disturbing whatever sorry soul had the misfortune of being on the other side of the wall. Neither of you cared at that moment. Within minutes you had already come twice.

Your chest heaved, and Wriothesley cupped them leaving bites all over your breasts, he avoided any place people would be able to see but needed to mark you somewhere. He moved back up to your ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he said quietly.

You slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and began to rub your clit. Wriothesley leaned back till he was kneeling. Gripping your waist, he continued to fuck you watching with hawk-like focus the way your fingers played with your clit. It was like you were under display, laid out for him to observe and study, and you were.

“So, that’s how you like it?” he said, feeling your walls clench around him for the third time that night.

You whimpered in response, your words had long since failed you. You began to slow as your hand grew tired and your body became closer to a collection of jolting nerves than functioning limbs.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You can give me two more, right?” he said.

You moaned as he replaced your hand continuing to rub your clit just as vigorously as you had started.

“Wriothesley,” you cried,

“Ssh, you’ve got this. Let go. Be a good girl and give me two more,” he urged you on.

You bit your lip and threw your head back letting out another cry which he swallowed eagerly. Your walls clenched again, and your body began to show the signs of a squirt. You sprayed, your legs shaking, your toes curling.

“Shit, you’re incredible. One more,” he captured your lips. “You’ve done so good. Just give me one more, my love,” he said against them.

One more and he would be satisfied. One more and he could guarantee that he would have enough resolve to follow through with his plans. Just one more.

You shivered again and bit down on his bottom lip as your final climax washed over you barely a minute later. He growled at the pain, tugging his lip from your mouth, and kissing you properly.

“Well done,” he said but continued thrusting at the same brutal pace. “I’m nearly there.”

You used what little strength you had to keep him inside. He said your name for what was the thousandth time that night.

“Not tonight,” he panted, smiling against your lips. “Trust me, I want to. I do, but not tonight.”

He pulled out and kissed you softly, stroking himself until his release painted your stomach. He kissed your forehead and rolled off you to not squash you under his weight.

You turned onto your side and cuddled into him. He wrapped his arms around you and entangled your limbs. You faced each other on the damp sheets.

It felt like time stopped. Everything melted away, you didn’t know whether it had been forty or four hours, and you didn’t care. You felt sticky and wet, the only thing cooling you down was the natural coolness of his skin on yours. Sleep drifted over you like a blanket not soon after. You tried to fight it off, wishing to talk to him longer; to try and convince him against fighting the administrator; to find a way with you because as long as you had each other you knew everything would be okay…

“Everything is going to be okay,” he said quietly as if he had read your mind, sending you off to sleep. “It’s all going to be okay.”

When you woke the next morning, well when the sound of the guards woke you from your sex-induced coma, Wriothesley was gone.

Remember your safeword.

You woke to cool scarred arms wrapped securely around your waist. Wriothesley’s head rested on your breasts. Flecks of grey mixed seamlessly into the stream of black hair reminded you that you were no longer in the past. You shifted slightly to free an arm. He grumbled something and nuzzled his head further into your breasts, securing his arms tighter around you as if afraid you were going to disappear. It was a habit he had developed over the years, an incessant need to hold onto you when he slept. You didn’t mind it too much, you liked being cold when you went to bed; it helped you sleep better.

“Wriothesley,” you whispered and ran a hand through his hair. You laid a peck on his forehead, and he stirred.

“Is it morning already?” he grumbled, though his eyes remained closed.

He had been awake for as long as you had been lost in your thoughts, silently listening to the sound of your pounding heart. He couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts ailed you on nights like these.

You admired the thick dark lashes casting shadows over his face.

“No, I just can’t sleep,” you said.

You knew his skin like the back of your hand. The scar under his eye, the scar on his neck that led down to the center of his breastplate and stopped on his sternum. The ones wrapped around his arms, the ones that scattered his waist and stomach, the ones on his thighs; even the small faint one on his calf from when he fell over as a kid. He told you that was when he knew his skin was going to be littered with scars. Wriothesley scarred easily and he scarred badly. However, despite their jagged appearances, none of them were too hideous for you to bear. You didn’t like them, but you loved Wriothesley, and as they were as a part of him as any other part of him, you learnt to love them too. They represented how many battles he had won. They represented every promise kept.

You lifted his head up and kissed the scar on his face, the one right under his eye.

You could feel his hardened cock pressing against your thigh. His pupils were blown when he finally opened his eyes.

He loved you so much it hurt. Yes, physically but also mentally. He loved how you accepted him, he loved how you chose him, and he loved how you chose you too. Most of all he loved how you looked when you teased him, so raw, so ripe, so ready to dismantle you completely.

“Oh, I can think of ways to help with that,” he murmured.

“I don’t know if I have the stamina, your grace,” you teased.

He let out a guttural noise.

He nibbled and sucked on your nipple, messaging your other breast in his cold, rough hands. Your breath staggered as you gave in to his touch. The sound went straight to his cock. He had fucked you into the sheets earlier that night, till you were blubbering and couldn’t remember your own name. Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough; he would never get enough of you. Despite your fear that one day he would disappear, he never would. It was Wriothesley who worried that one day you would grow tired of his incessant need to be near you; to have you, to consume you. So, he savoured every squirm, every shiver, every breathy gasp of his name that you would spare him, terrified that they’d be his last.

“Ah, well it’s a good thing that I have enough stamina for the both of us,” he said switching his attention from one boob to the other. The earlier hickeys had already darkened on your skin. “Think you can cum again?”

He would kiss each one later wishing for them to last forever.

“You’re insatiable,” you blushed.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I have my favourite meal right where I want her,” he said and began to trail his tongue down your stomach towards your sensitive clit. He wanted you on his tongue, in his senses… everywhere.

“Do you remember your safeword?” he asked. It was what he always did before you both did anything sexual beyond intimate fondling and brisk kisses.

“Time,” you said.

“Good girl.” He half grinned.

He continued teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, absorbing every twitch and shake of your body.

“Wriothesley,” you spluttered. “I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” he said.

He slipped his tongue into you, circling, lapping, like a man possessed he devoured you. His nose brushed against your skin. It was knowing his eyes were on you the entire time that made everything feel ten times more stimulating. You let out a quiet gasp and gripped his hair.

“You’re so good for me.” He gave you a broad lick. “So perfect.”

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, curling them inside you and scissoring them open to stretch you out not that you needed much with how well he had fucked you before. Still, it was the thought of giving you pleasure that spurred him on.

“Wriothesley,” you said.

He hummed to show you he was listening, the vibration made you quiver.

“I want your cuffs.”

He paused and pulled away, perking up. He secretly loved it when you surprised him.

“Oh? What for?”

You smiled and gestured for his cuffs. He scrambled off the queen-sized bed and walked butt naked to where he left his cuffs. You admired his ass from the bed. He had a great ass, he knew it too, it was why he wore his jacket around Meropide. His nickname Ricecake had gotten around the Fortress years ago and whilst it was okay when he was a convict, he didn’t need that level of familiarity as the Duke. Besides, you were the only one he wanted observing his ass.

He climbed back onto the bed and handed them to you, the spiked metal looked so good in your hands. His eyes flickered to the rings on your ring finger—his rings. The ones he gave you when he officially proposed.

He never ended up fighting that day due to the administrator’s sudden disappearance.

He recalled how you had run around Meropide searching for him, your hair a mess, the beginnings of one of the love bites he had left dauntingly close to view, poking out of one of his shirts that you had thrown on instead of your own. He recalled how you had slammed open the door to the administrator’s office, breathless, beautiful, with your eyes full of tears to him sitting behind the desk organising the abandoned files. He recalled how he claimed you again there, in that office over and over and over again. The other man’s ring was long gone somewhere down the many drains of Meropide, and your sentence cleared not long after. There were perks to becoming the administrator of the fortress of Meropide. Perks that had the maid of that man who hurt you disappear to a place only known by Celestia, the Archons, Navia, and Wriothesley. Neuvillette knew too but unless there was a trial, he would keep his nose out of it.

You knelt on the bed swinging the cuffs on your fingers.

“Where have you gone?” you cooed bringing him back to reality.

“Mm, nowhere, just admiring the view,” he said coolly.

You shook your head and pushed him to lay back against the pillows.

“You’re working too hard, your grace. I can fix that,” you said and straddled him.

Reaching above him, you cuffed his arms to the bed frame.

He cocked a brow and playfully tugged against the restraints.

“Ah, I hope so,” he said.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, smirking.

His cock twitched at the memory of your first time together.

“Remember the safeword?” you asked.

Seeing you sat on him, your eyes filled with life, he couldn’t care less that you didn’t remember your past before Meropide. He didn’t care that you didn’t recall how he was the boy you gave bread to once when you spotted him wandering away from his home. How you had given him, a complete stranger what looked like your last piece of food because he was sitting alone. He didn’t care if all you remembered was your last two and a half decades together… because you were here now with him. You chose him just as he chose you.

“Time," he responded.

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#wriothesley imagines #genshin impact #wriothesley fanfic #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin smut #fluff #smut #angst #light angst #angst with a happy ending

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vintagemulti · 4 months

Text

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

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the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

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bazzybelle · 6 months

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Good Omens 2 and Wayward Son - A Fan's Commentary on Fandom Reactions

I’m going to start off by saying apologies for any obvious grammatical errors. I am writing purely from the heart here.

Also, apologies to my Sandman friends. If you haven’t read The Simon Snow Trilogy, this will go over your heads. However, I have been going back and forth on writing this meta since the release of Good Omens 2, and I just finished reading a spectacular meta on queer ships becoming canon by @avelera, which you can find here (read it, it’s brilliant). Anyway, I feel now’s a good time to let out all of my feelings when it comes to Good Omens 2 and how similar it was to reading Wayward Son.

Simon Snow friends, you all know that Wayward Son is my favourite book out of the trilogy. You also know that this can be considered a controversial take within the fandom. And I don’t mean that in a toxic way, this fandom is one of the more wholesome fandoms I’ve seen; But in the way of like… Wayward Son is itself a polarizing book.

I say this, knowing full well what went down when Wayward Son was released. Perhaps I had the advantage of not being completely embroiled within the Simon Snow fandom until after I’d finished reading the book, but I lived on the periphery. I followed Rainbow on Twitter (fuck you, I am not calling it X), I had saved some artwork on Pinterest (before I found out those were stolen, wherein I immediately unpinned them and deleted my fandom folders), and I was excited to get Wayward Son as soon as it came out. So much so that I asked my husband to go to the Indigo near his office and buy it because I wanted to read it right away.

Friends, I demolished that book within a DAY.

Then I read it again. And again. And again.

Then I wrote my first fanfiction in eight years.

This book changed me. But you all know that. I’ve talked about it often, and that’s not what this meta (Editorial? Opinion piece? Shouting into the void?) is about.

What I am going to talk about is the amount of pure vitriol this book got once it was released. There was SO MUCH complaining about the book. It was too short! There was no point to it! Why aren’t Simon and Baz having sexy vampire sex? Why aren’t they living together (never mind that this was briefly discussed at the end of Carry On, but go off I guess)?

And you know what’s even funnier? Within a couple of weeks (it might have even been days, I’m a little fuzzy on timelines) Rainbow announced the third book. We knew, right away, that Wayward Son was meant to be an in-between book! Rainbow, being a fandom person herself, has said time and time again that she had always considered Wayward Son as an in-between book, structured like The Empire Strikes Back within the Star Wars original trilogy. Like think of the in-between books of any series, they are ALWAYS the darkest ones. In order to fully appreciate the win in the end, you need to go through the tough shit.

What I loved about Wayward Son was it took that idea and spun it. It went all “ok, yeah we dealt with the win, now let’s deal with the aftermath. Only then can we have the makeouts and sexy times these guys deserved.” (and damn, did Any Way The Wind Blows deliver on that promise).

But I am getting away from myself again. Point is, it was always meant to be an in-between book. There was always meant to be a resolution at the end of the trilogy. But that sure as hell didn’t stop people from outright demanding Rainbow give them the happy ending NOW. Pestering her on Twitter, (not so much on Tumblr) demanding she do this, or do that, or “you better not kill Baz” (even though she has ALWAYS SAID SHE NEVER WOULD) or “they better not break up” (even though, narratively, it was heading in that direction). The closer the book got to release date, the more people complained about how awful Wayward Son was.

It was really disheartening to see.

Which is why I got really upset when the SAME THING happened after the release of Good Omens 2.

(For clarification purposes, because several of my friends have spoken to me about their own personal issues with Good Omens 2. And you are all super fucking valid. I am strictly referring to the amount of anger I saw online because although Aziraphale and Crowley kissed, they didn’t have an immediate happily ever after. I am also speaking of the anger expressed because the season wasn’t wrapped up in a neat little bow.)

Like with the release of Wayward Son, people seemed to have forgotten that season 2 of Good Omens was meant to be an inbetween season. Neil Gaiman has not been shy to talk about that. He has said over and over again that Season 2 was always meant to be a bridge between the Good Omens he and Terry Pratchett wrote together, and the sequel they had been planning.

What… did you all just forget about that? Do you not know how narrative writing works?

It’s like people refused to take a step back and breathe for a second and appreciate the season for what it was. A beautiful romantic story (because, IT WAS! Just like Neil said it would be), as well as a lead up into what will be the epic, dramatic conclusion. No, instead people started demanding the happy ending NOW, and getting angry when Neil wouldn’t budge and offer more information (even though he never has before) (funny how people just… forgot that).

It was Wayward Son all over again.

Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I was crushed with the way Good Omens 2 left off. Just like I was so confused when Wayward Son ended out of the blue. You know what I did about that? I wrote fic, I read the book again, and I happily anticipated the upcoming final part that would tie up all the loose ends.

Know what I’m doing to heal after Good Omens 2? I’m looking at gifs, rewatching episodes, laughing at memes and crack, and hoping to all the gods of story writing that Amazon approves of a third season, so that Neil Gaiman can be allowed to finish the story he and Terry Pratchett built together.

It’s become sad to watch this feral hunger from fans demanding immediate gratification, and getting upset when it isn’t the ending or gratification they were expecting. Wayward Son came out after years of Carry On fans having nothing else but the one book. Like I said, I wasn’t part of the fandom then, so I don’t know how fans from 2015 felt upon learning they’d get more Simon and Baz. Same with Good Omens. I only really got into the fandom a few months before season 2 came out. So I don’t know how OG fans felt waiting and waiting and waiting. So maybe I have that going for me as an advantage, that my hunger wasn’t growing more and more feral.

Then again, I’m now a part of The Sandman fandom, and we’re essentially waiting on Season 2 to start development. And while I’m hoping a few things are tweaked (like Dream and Hob’s relationship), I’d be more than fine if it stays the same as in the comics. And if they decide to go about that in an entirely different way, I’d be fine with that too. You know why? Because I’ve learned to trust the writers of the stories I love not to lead me astray.

And if I’m unhappy with something –because nothing is ever 100% perfect, and even my favourite stories end up coming short– there are always fanfictions to write, gifs to laugh at, and fandom friends to discuss plots and meta with.

I may have lost the point of this meta. I tend to do that, following a train of thought that doesn’t always make sense in the end.

Fandom friends, can we all just agree to take a breath and be thankful of the stories given to us? Can we learn to appreciate the entire picture, and not just a tiny section of it? And for the love of all that is holy, can we learn to be patient and to listen when our story tellers remind us to wait and see? To trust them when they assure us that our characters will have a happy ending, even if they need to traverse a little in the dark to get there?

I sure as hell am, and I hope you will too.

Gonna tag @carryonsimoncarryonbaz because she was instrumental in encouraging me to write this.

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books · 8 months

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Writing Workshop Week 3: Stories of a Place

Hello again, my very talented writers of tumblr! I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed reading your work. I’ve seen such stellar craft happening, and I’m eager to see where you’ll take this next prompt.

In week 1, we focused on a single object. In week 2, we attended to the objects in our environment. This week, we’re considering the environment as a whole—setting.

One of the reasons I’ve chosen this order specifically, small to large, is because setting can become overwhelming. But last week we already practiced it in our real environments by observing our surroundings, and putting those details into our work. Setting is not as huge and amorphous as it may seem—when it comes down to it, setting is the interaction between character and place. Notice I didn’t say that setting is the place itself, and that’s because a place is meaningless without grounding it in the personal stakes of a character. It’s like walking around a grocery store and not putting anything in your cart. A setting only exists to hold its contents.

Setting can refer to the largest and smallest of places: universe, galaxy, planet, continent, country, city, home, bedroom, pillow fort. Setting can also refer to time: millennium, century, decade, year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second.

In writing, not all of these things have to be defined, nor should they. The difficulty in setting is the negotiation between our lived reality—in which we have all of this information at all times—and the restrictive nature of writing, in which we not only control all these variables, but we also have to organize and convey them. In reality, events can occur simultaneously. You can drop a plate at the same time you get a text message. But in writing, even if those things happen at the same time in the lived reality of your character, you have to convey the plate dropping and then the phone vibrating in consecutive sentences, linked usually by the word “simultaneously.” Your reader then retroactively crafts those moments happening at once in their memory, but there is a brief moment between those two details where the reader knows the plate has dropped but not that the phone will vibrate. Just as a film is restricted to the width of a camera’s lens, writing is restricted to the sentence. As immersive as writing can be, it is still always a constructed thing.

When it comes to setting, you not only have control over all these details, you also have to figure out the order of information those details are conveyed. Which brings me to…

Decision Fatigue

One of the reasons people think fanfiction is “easier” than original fiction is because there are fewer decisions to make. You have an established universe to play in and so you don’t have to pull up a name generator to figure out the name of your protagonist, or however you make those choices. But that’s not true—fanfiction requires a different type of decision-making and therefore a different (but equally difficult) skill set of creative thinking. The analogy I like to use is a playground versus a beach. On a playground, the equipment is already there, but you can use it however you want. On a beach, you have to decide what to bring with you. One is not inherently better than the other. It’s all play.

I say this because I’ve coached a lot of writers who are transitioning from fanfiction to original fiction. It can be jarring to go from the playground to a beach. And so I see a lot of writers succumb to decision fatigue—the exhaustion of creativity. You have to decide what kind of car your character drives, how old they are, where they live, what they do for a living, their relationships, the conflicts of those relationships, their educational background, and so on. Creativity is making decisions. And that’s why it’s hard.

Relevance

I would argue that setting is the most difficult series of decisions to make. Our entry into a new piece is generally a character, a premise, or an image. Or, as we say on Tumblr, we put a guy in situations. That guy’s environment will affect him and his situations, because that environment will either help or hinder him in some way. A meet-cute, for example, is nearly always related to setting.

I remember doing my first generative workshop on setting. It sent me into a spiral I couldn’t climb out of for four years. The spiral was this:

All narratives, even narrative poems (as opposed to lyrical), exist in a time and place, and the author has control of those factors. The more specific those details are, the stronger the story becomes. The specificity of those details is rendered in imagery. Ergo, I have to develop my imagery.

And now I’m going to tell you the result of that line of thinking so you don’t fall into the same trap: I wrote a totally unpublishable novel. It was too long and not very interesting, and both of those things happened because I was more dedicated to developing my setting than my story.

Although that was great practice, it kind of sucked to spend an entire year working on something only to put it in a drawer and never look at it again. What pulled me out of the spiral was dedicating myself to narration—I decided I was only obligated to describe that which my narrator observed. And because I didn’t want to bother with setting anymore, I made a character who was totally oblivious.

(We’ll be looking at narration next week.)

I began to view the setting through a character rather than around a character. My narrator was narrow-focused and obsessive, so I was only obligated to write that which came into the one-lane bridge of her attention. In other words, I only wrote what was relevant to her. And the only thing that was relevant to her was the object of her fixation.

The big caveat here is that a story isn’t always obligated to its narrator. That’s a choice I’ve made for my own work, because I’m interested in narrators and the development of voice. My prose will never be beautiful or floral. I’ll never have the patience to lovingly describe what it’s like to live in Ohio. I’ll probably only ever write a character who has driven past the HELL IS REAL sign a dozen times and who maybe has strong opinions on corn. It’s the best way I can find to help me avoid the decision fatigue of building an entire world.

Prompt time!

For this week’s activity, I’d like you to think of a place you really love. This can be your home town or the house where you grew up or wherever has brought you joy. (Remember: love inspires.)

Next, I’d like you to write 3 facts of public information and 3 facts of private information about that place.

Public information is anything that can be found, either by researching the place or visiting it. This could be factual—population, square footage, location. It could also involve community knowledge, like legends, cultures, or customs. It can also include major historical events. If you were to show this place to a total stranger, what would you tell them about it? This part may require some research.

Private information is what can’t be known by anyone but you (and maybe the people who were there with you). This includes memories you have of the place, secrets, unknown histories; anything that can’t be understood unless you have intimate knowledge of the place or lived there during a particular moment.

For example, when I taught in the South, I had a lot of students who had lived through Hurricane Katrina. They were all young children at the time. When I had them do this activity, many of them chose to list facts that anyone could find about New Orleans in August of 2005—that there were over 1300 casualties, that Katrina was a Category 5 hurricane. They also shared things that no one else could know, about their families housing total strangers whose homes were destroyed, about living for days or even weeks without electricity. About why their parents chose to stay rather than leave, or leave rather than stay. About loved ones who had died.

Once you have your 6 things, I’d like you to write a piece based on them. Here are some ways you can approach it:

If you want to write nonfiction, tell the story of one of your private pieces of information.

If you want to write fiction, write a story using at least one of the public pieces of information. For example, you can tell the story of a legend, or make a legend up. Or you could do something similar to what we did last week, where you take those three pieces of information and weave them in.

If you want to write a poem, try to capture the sense of place by using one or more pieces of information, either private or public.

If you want to write something experimental, write a story about a piece of private information from the perspective of the place itself.

You don’t have to share your 6 things (unless you want to). While you’re writing, note the details that emerge naturally while drafting, what becomes relevant to the story versus what doesn’t. Like our previous prompts, allow yourself to lean into associative thinking and make connections with your memories.

Questions? Ask ‘em here before EOD Tuesday so @bettsfic can answer them on Wednesday. And remember to tag your work #tumblr writing workshop with betts if you want her to read your work and possibly feature it on Friday!

And, for those just joining us: @bettsfic is running a writing workshop on @books this month. Want to know more? Start here.

#tumblr writing workshop with betts #week 3: stories of a place #writers' room #writeblr #writing setting #writers on tumblr #writing advice #long post #long text post

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putschki1969 · 2 months

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Kaji Fes.2023 Day 1 FULL Video [Reupload]

Find the original post from last night HERE. It doesn't show up on the Tumblr dashboard so only people who actively check my blog have seen it. I exchanged the video with an official one so I guess it might have been a copyright issue. Don't think I've ever had one, very interesting.

»»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——««

❗FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗CREDIT me if you SHARE on other sites❗

I was quite excited to watch this since I only attended Day 2 last December. I didn’t necessarily regret not going for Day 1 but there were a couple of really neat songs in the setlist that I kinda wished I had been able to see performed live. The audio seems a bit dull but maybe it’s just me… Anyway, it’s still a pretty epic live. Please note that they decided to cut a handful of songs from the broadcast (probably to keep the whole thing at roughly 2 hours). The following songs are not included: fake garden, canta per me, she has to overcome her fear, I beg you and 砂塵の彼方へ.

Here are some random thoughts┗(•ˇ_ˇ•)―→

fake garden

canta per me

the world: Nothing much to say here. Decent performance but I liked the song more when it was led by Keiko.

Liminality: Loved, loved, loved this version with the amazingly talented Yuri Kasahara, Keiko and Kaori. The bridge here might be my favourite of all time.

in the land of twilight, under the moon: Never been a fan.

swordland: Another highlight for me. I think it’s easy to tell that I am a real sucker for YK’s guest vocalists that use a more operatic singing style.

she has to overcome her fear

luminous sword: Always been a big fan of Yuki’s SAO soundtrack. I understand why it gets performed a lot.

星屑: Even though this is a Keiko-centric song, I’ve never really liked it all that much so I don’t have much to say about it.

花守の丘: Solid.

ｗe’re gonna groove: Those who have followed me for a while know how I feel about the accordion. I dislike this instrument with a passion and it’s just featured way too heavily here. Fun fact, when Day 2 started with the accordion, I got really scared and wondered whether or not I would enjoy myself.

Obsession: Can’t say I’ve ever heard this song before. Sadly, it’s nothing that leaves a lasting impression. Also, that accordion…(¬_¬) Weird choice for LINO LEIA. It was fun hearing Keiko sing a bit of English though.

千夜一夜: Once again, not familiar with the song. Like this one a bit more though. Generally, I think I prefer rito’s vocals over LINO’s even though I don’t really know why.

Point Zero: This is one of my all-time favourite YK songs and one of the few tracks I really regret not seeing live on Day 1. Another epic performance by Yuri Kasahara. God, I love her so much.

salva nos: Speaking of regrets, yup, I’ll admit it, I am pretty bummed that I missed this one. “salva nos” and “a song of storm and fire” were the very first YK songs I ever listened to and they quite literally changed the trajectory of my life. Without those two songs, I wouldn’t have looked into more of YK’s stuff and I certainly wouldn’t have discovered Kalafina. One day, I wanna be there for a live performance. At least I got to hear “a song of storm and fire” on Day 2. So grateful for that!! Anyway, super epic.

花の唄: No thoughts.

I beg you

櫂: Ahh, I almost forgot about Aimer’s Mizu no Akashi 2.0. It’s so funny to me that this is literally copy/paste. Lovely melody, I don’t even mind the vocals all that much but damn, it’s not even coming close to Wakana’s Mizu no Akashi.

朝が来る: Decent but nothing to write home about.

My Story: Ohhh, another score track from “Hanako to Anne”. I was actually blown away by Day 2’s “希望の光”. This is not as good but still quite nice. Weirdly enough I am obsessed with the uilleann pipes. How come I can’t stand the accordion but I absolutely love this instrument? Probably because I am really into the celtic sound?

Parallel Hearts: Ugh, never liked this song, not even when Wakana was still around.

stone cold: This on the other hand is a song I’ve always enjoyed but with Wakana no longer in the picture, it’s just not the same. Will never get used to the Kaori chorus. Sorry T_T Still like this though.

the image theme of Xenosaga II: Good stuff.

蒼穹のファンファーレ: Love that this is focusing on the FJ regulars. My favourite performance of the song so far.

#yuki kajiura #kajiura yuki #video #report #Kaji Fes. 2023 #Kaji Fes #fictionjunction #Keiko #Uploading this again #the first 2 posts weren't showing up on the dashboard #sorry for the spamming

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fitpacs · 25 days

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Oi tumblr user fitpacs, I hope you’re doing well! Morale’s been running a little low for me but ur posts have really helped to cheer me up!!!! so here’s some angst

I think if Fit’s secret ever came out, the only one of his close friends who would turn against him would be Tubbo. I feel like Phil and Bagi would trust that he had his reasons/ask for more details (and Phil hearing that it was Fit’s chance to escape 2b2t would immediately be like Oh Yeah, Valid); Mike might be a bit harder to defuse but I think he’d come around eventually. But Tubbo? Tubbo’s very much a “fuck the motive” type of guy, plus with his growing distance from Fit, feeling left out from the secret, and how data is implied to be important for his lore too, learning that Fit has already taken and ‘sold off’ his data might kill the Morning Crew once and for all

this is so interesting for me to think about! for me, qtubbo is very much a ‘act now think later’ kind of guy towards everyone except his daughter, because he feels like he’s easily interchangeable in everyone’s life except for sunny’s - that’s why everything he does for sunny (in canon) is thought out and consequences minimised; see, for example, the creation lore, as well as qtubbo randomly calling fobo the egg hospital and calling sunny the special, number one patient.

so yeah i feel like he will feel betrayed when he does eventually find out about it all, it will bring back all of those feelings of him feeling inadequate and that fit and pac always like each other better than they like him, and that they secretly want tubbo to leave them alone (which, lbr, is the real reason he tries so hard to break them up, he feels like if they get so wrapped up in each other, he won’t have anyone else - which is also why i think qtubbo now pushes so hard for fobo, he wants to feel just as important to qfoolish as he can, just in case the morning crew - in his eyes - falls apart; fit and pac are together and have their two kids, bagi has tina and empanada, phil has his two kids who are his entire world, mike is always wrapped up in his building projects with richas and never really seeks out company… and who does that leave on their own? again?

and the real nail in the coffin for qtubbo’s feeling of betrayal will be when he finds out his data has been passed on - stolen from him and passed onto whoever the fuck (he won’t stick around to find out), he’ll take sunny and isolate the two of them for a while, knowing that he can only really trust his daughter now. he’s always felt like the morning crew like each other better than they like him, and the original members - fit and pac - both knew that tubbo’s data was stolen from him without consent and didn’t think to even run it past him? that just amplifies what he already feels. they don’t care about him, just about helping each other. yes, fit and pac’s data is passed on too, along with other members on the island, but the couple actively chose that ending - they would’ve had the option to take their data out of the pile, but they took that choice away from tubbo, and that just makes him feel like they don’t care about him at all.

and whatever is done with the data is out of his control, yes, maybe they’ll be teleported away, maybe they’ll be killed, but nothing will stay the same - qtubbo will be pulled away from the one being on the island he trusts without question and the one being that he needs to keep living on the island without going insane (sunny), and morning crew will most definitely be destroyed in tubbo’s mind as they haven’t only destroyed tubbo’s life by deciding the course of it just for fit’s own gain, but also destroyed sunny’s life as the one person she needs, the one person she has on the island that is always on her side, is ripped away from her.

#WOO BOY I CAN TALK ABOUT QSMP ALL DAMN DAY HUH #also thank you for the lovely beginning of that ask anon #i’m glad i can help a little! :)#qtubbo #qsunny #qfit #qpac #morning crew

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thesimscurator · 4 months

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For Rent Update to Career World is Live!

The For Rent update to Career World is here! Before I link it, though, a quick:

CAUTION: There is a serious bug in the game right now that causes irreversible save file corruption. The causes of it are unclear, but it seems to have something to do with residential rentals. I actually GOT this bug while doing this update, and had to scrap two weeks’ worth of work on the update and start over completely from scratch by downloading the previous version of Career World from my own Tumblr—because once it’s in, it can’t be fixed. Luckily, I did not get it on the second attempt (I checked obsessively as I was going), but I don’t know: A) why I got it the first time, B) why I didn’t get it the second time, or C) how to prevent it from happening again in the future.

Because of this, I have not opted to overwrite the previous version of the save file with the new version as I usually do. Until this bug is fixed (please go click “Me Too” on the bug report, it’ll encourage the devs to give this more attention), I want people to have the option to play with or without rental residential lots, knowing that there may be more risk of save file corruption by playing the version with rental residentials. To be clear: neither of these two versions of Career World is currently corrupted. I have uploaded clean saves for you to download. But since I don’t know what triggers the bug, the save may become corrupted as you play, and it looks like this is marginally more likely to occur in the version that has been updated to incorporate For Rent. You will know you have triggered the corruption if you begin to see exclamation points over lots instead of the usual lot identification symbols.

If you get this bug as you play, do not save your game! And perhaps even more importantly, do not close the save you were just playing and click into another; exit the game entirely. There is some evidence that this can spread from one save file to another if you play several save files in the same session. There is, I repeat, no fix for this. The only thing you can do with a corrupted save is restore old versions until you find one that doesn’t have the corruption yet. In the case of Career World, you can always come back to this page and re-download a clean copy from this website.

That was the important info for everybody, but for a few players, I must also give the usual . . .

IMPORTANT MOD NOTE: If you use Frankk’s Language Barriers mod, you must download and install the latest version of that mod before opening the save file in order to retain language data for Tomaru, the newest language.

OK, now that we’ve covered the important need-to-knows, here are links to:

Career World updated for For Rent

Career World only updated as far as Horse Ranch—i.e. without any content from For Rent

Both are also now linked in the main post.

Phew! Alright, now we can get to the details of:

What’s New?

Rental residentials, of course! The thing to know about them first off: there is another, far more minor bug in the game right now that hard-codes the names of all rental residential lot types as whatever EA originally called the lot rather than any new names the player might have given that lot. So, many of the existing apartment buildings—which used to have names that told you what they were, like “Sunny Retirement Village” or “FutureSim Employee Housing”—have reverted to having unchangeable informationless names, or worse: misleading and defunct names, like the house with a basement rental in Britechester that has gone back to being called “Pepper’s Pub” even though I moved Pepper’s Pub and it already has that exact name on a totally separate lot (ditto for the now-duplicated “Thebe Estate”). This is a mess. I will fix it if they ever change this bug/feature/whatever it is, but at the moment, please know that rental residentials have weird names that I can’t change, and the real identity of the building is probably buried several clicks deep in the unit descriptions.

In order to combat this somewhat for players who are willing to read these Tumblr updates, here’s a list of rental residentials with specific gameplay identities that I think should be more obvious than they are with the locked lot names:

Special Rental Residentials:

1) The apartment building on the FutureSim campus (Mirage Canyon) in Oasis Springs is employee housing for employees of FutureSim Labs (the scientist career employer), or its subsidiaries Obscure Logistics (the engineering employer) and Rainy Day Entertainment (the tech guru employer), and their families. If you do not have a scientist, engineer, or tech guru in the family, you are not eligible to move into these apartments.

2) The trailer park in Bedrock Strait in Oasis Springs is a retirement community. We don’t want any young whipper-snappers here, nor any of these go-getter old folks who still work and will just remind us of the daily grind we’re trying to forget. Don’t even dream of moving here unless you are 1) an elder, and 2) retired. And no live-in children or grandchildren, either! If you can’t remember the golden age of landlines, find somewhere else to live!

3) I did a little playtesting of the solar farm in Oasis Springs for this version of the save file, and discovered that A) you couldn’t even get to any of the solar panels to maintain them the way this was originally set up, and B) it wasn’t actually possible to make money from selling electricity—the lot value was too high relative to the payback from the solar panels. But, I discovered, it is possible to have the electric payback exceed your bills if the lot is changed to a rental residential with the living quarters set as the one and only unit and the solar farm itself as common area. So that’s what I did: I fixed the solar panels so you can access them, and set the place as a rental with only one unit. You can now functionally play as a solar plant operator. And of course, the Landgraabs are your landlords. They do own the whole electric utility, after all. (This is also now true for the power plant in Evergreen Harbor and the hill house/micro wind farm in the Windslar neighborhood of Windenburg.)

4) The cluster of huts at the top of the hill in Sulani’s Ohan’ali Town is an eco-living commune that blends traditional Sulani ways of life with new green technologies. Residents live in separate off-the-grid huts with little more than bedrooms and kitchens, powered by the commune’s on-site solar panels, windmills, solar hot water heaters, and dew collectors. In the collective space, however, you’ll find a thriving taro patch, a communal art studio, game tables, a full bar, a small basketball court, chickens and insects to raise, a roadside stand for selling the commune’s produce and crafts, and lots of opportunities to interact with fellow members of this intentional community. One of the huts is generally reserved for students on study abroad who have come to learn about Sulani culture through this communal living experience—see the List of Study Abroad Opportunities (now updated for Tomarang!) for details.

5) The defunct motel in StrangerVille was bought for an almost-literal song by an eclectic throuple of artists who are very flexible about making changes proposed by tenants. Currently, all the former hotel rooms are just in the state they were when the place was a hotel, but if you move in here and want to—say—combine two units into a larger, single unit like they have done with their own, they’d be open to that. If you want to add a rooftop space to your top-floor unit, or even create some kind of wonky townhouse by linking two units that are directly above one another with a rooftop space, they’re open to that, too. If you want to install blackout curtains over all the windows, paper the walls with conspiracy-theory notes, and run secret experiments in your former hotel room, go nuts! They’ll really let you do just about anything. All you need to do is play as the owners for a minute to change these things before moving your sim in.

6) The big house where Pepper’s Pub originally was in Britechester is just that—a big house. They rent out their converted basement to university students, but this isn’t really an apartment building. The understanding with this one is that whoever lives in the above-ground house portion will always be the property owner and not just a renter—and in order to make this true, I have had to add an owning family to that section of the property, which means the college administrator Jade Rosa has been house-sitting for all this time has returned! You now have the option to dive right in to professoring or college administration with the new family that now lives there (thanks to Ivelle_creates for making the couple).

7) Both the large piazza in Tartosa where the Thebe Estate used to be, AND the apartment building at Ro Kaya Rockside in Tomarang, are mixed-use areas with commercial establishments on the ground floor (and sometimes into the upper floors) with apartments above. This is not exactly possible yet in The Sims 4, but several of the businesses are still usable—you can buy wedding dresses off the mannequins in the Tartosan bridal shop, for example, because that gameplay is tied to the mannequin object and not the lot type. Mostly, however, these commercial areas are designed with gameplay as their associated workers in mind, allowing you to live in an apartment but do work tasks in one of the on-site businesses (EX: be a cosmotologist who works in the on-lot salon).

(And a quick sidenote on the piazza in Tartosa: there is the potential for A TREMENDOUS NUMBER of apartment units on this lot. I have only designated the three that are occupied as actual units for now, because I was already running up against the per-save-file unit limit, but if you want to move your own sim in, just pick whichever of the many empty spaces suits your fancy, create the perfect apartment for your sim, and designate it as a new unit. Or, if you are really into furnishing/interior decoration and you want to turn this into basically an entire town, you can just bulldoze the existing rental residentials in other worlds, use the bb.increaserentalunitcap on cheat to allow yourself all the space you need, and go to literal town.)

8) Tam Nang Sands in Tomarang is a resort hotel. The place is set up for short-term rentals only, and is really meant to be played from the property owner perspective, to create a faux active career as a hotel manager. While it is possible to play from the tenant perspective and “stay here” on “vacation,” the game does not register it as a vacation and will make you sell your current residence in order to move here. I don’t really recommend doing that unless you live with someone else and are planning on going on vacation without them; then you can use the “split household” feature to send part of your household for a temporary stay while the other part of the household holds down the fort. If the Sims team ever release an honest-to-goodness hotel system, I will update this, but in the meantime this is better played as the manager.

9) Isda Riverfront in Tomarang is the site of the Linh family compound. While most Tomarani people have abandoned this traditional mode of housing the entire extended family in a walled compound with central courtyard and a special family spirit house, the Linh family is determined to stick to it, no matter how many foreigners marry in. And that, of course, means that unless you’re marrying in, you may not move here. Marry in or be born in, that’s the deal.

10) The colonial mansion on the former site of The Screaming Gecko in Tomarang has been set “for rent” so it can be used as a private second home by a wealthy sim. One of the new and unique things the rental system now allows us to do is have sims own multiple homes and just swap between them at will; all you have to do is set all the homes you want to own as residential rental lots, assign all the rooms to a single unit in each, and then buy all the homes as a property owner. Since property owners pay no rent to live in a property they own, voila! You can live that snowbird life and just move to Tomarang when you get tired of winter, then move back to your original house (or any other vacation homes you own) when you need a change of scenery. I seriously considered having Judith Ward buy this house, since there is text in the tiger sanctuary about her having a particular connection to it, but ultimately decided I wanted you, the player, to have the opportunity to buy this with whatever sim you’re playing—whether Judith Ward herself or any other. And bonus, you can actually use this method to play out tax-evasion-by-the-wealthy storylines, because the property taxes on a big, expensive mansion that you own outright are astronomical, but taxes on “rental” properties you “manage” is just a flat $50 per unit per day, which is often far less than what you would have been paying on an owned house. This pack introduced lots of new paths to crime, for rich and poor alike!

All in all, there are 22 rental residentials in the save file now, with a total of 90 units (so you have 10 to play around with still!), the overwhelming majority of which are just empty and waiting for you to select and move your own sims in. If you choose to live in one of these buildings and want to have more neighbors, just move a few in from the gallery or elsewhere in the save.

And a quick note about a choice I didn’t make: I have not split any of the boarding houses in Copperdale into separate units for different students, because having a whole bunch of high school students with common interests in the same household is what allows you to control them as a group at the school and have them engage in active club activities together. This was half the point of creating the boarding-house system for Copperdale in the first place, so they are always going to be giant, unwieldy households full of sims. Embrace the challenge! You can play single high school students in any old save file. The same goes for the three movie set households added in the last update: all those sims need to be in the same household and simultaneously controllable for the gameplay to function correctly, so they have not been subdivided.

Tomarang Makeover:

As with some previous worlds, I’ve tried to lean in to the differing neighborhood identities by making Morensong bustling, crowded-together, modern, and rundown, while Koh Sahpa has a much more chill, spread-out, traditional, and upscale vibe. Morensong is overrun with street cats (i.e. it has “cat hangout” as a neighborhood trait), while Koh Sahpa has “peace and quiet” as its neighborhood trait. Both neighborhoods of Tomarang, however, have “mold” as a world challenge, because the air is just so heavy with moisture—the only exceptions to this are lots with absolutely no indoor space whatsoever, and therefore sufficient airflow to prevent mold growth. But if there’s an interior, there’s going to be mold.

The limited number of lots presented a challenge for filling Morensong with businesses and activities, but I think I did pretty well, considering. Its four lots are split half-and-half between residential and community, but one of the residentials is a mixed-use building with businesses on the ground floor, including a functional street market where you can play as a vendor if you’re living in the building. And I managed to pack quite a lot into the two community lots, as well! The one currently set as a thrift and bubble tea shop can have its lot type changed to karaoke bar, bar, lounge, or nightclub at will, depending on which spaces you want to focus on, what events you’d like thrown there, etc. And for the other lot, simmers made so many wonderful and creative alternatives to the bland national park that I couldn’t pick just one, so I picked four. I have turned this into one of the Eco Lifestyle four-in-one community space lots, with each of its states a completely different venue by a different simmer. If you want to keep it as a botanical garden, just leave it on the “community garden” state and you will have a fuller version with actual plants for your sims to tend (all flowers and tropical plants), spirit houses, and a picnic area—great if you’re playing as a botanist or a florist. If you’re some kind of vendor who doesn’t live at Ro Kaya Rockside and you want a more playable version of the night market, just set it to “marketplace” and now you’ll have easily editable stands at which to sell your wares. If you want a community center with tons to do, set it to “makerspace,” and if you’re looking for a non-rabbit-hole temple / Tomarani wedding venue, set it to “community space.”

In Koh Sahpa, I played around a bit with the new career and lifestyle possibilities unlocked by the new rental residential venue type. Three of the five lots out here are rental residentials, but none of the three are classic apartment buildings or townhouses like you’ll find in Morensong. One is a luxury hotel, where playing as the property owner means keeping the guests happy and the place in tip-top shape with very short leases and lots of rules. Another is a traditional family compound, where your “tenants” (or your “landlord,” depending on which household you’re playing) are actually your family members, and the point is to do lots of gathering and socializing in the common space, throw potlucks every night to represent big family dinners, and all pitch in to help when a maintenance or emergency event hits. In this “rental,” there are no rules and the leases are basically forever. The final “rental” is only marked as a rental residential to enable you to buy it as a second home—once you’ve purchased it, all you have to do is turn your own home into a rental residential and you can move between your two houses at will. In addition to these rental residentials, a straight-up vacation rental and a spa round out the primarily vacation-oriented neighborhood of Koh Sahpa.

Of course, this is a career-focused save, so a lot of the choices I made with Tomarang’s lots—like the ones described above—were career driven. But identifying careers for Tomarang was a bit tricky. For Rent certainly came with new ways to make money, a new part-time career, and several interesting gameplay features that fold particularly well into existing careers . . . but interestingly, none of these new features were particularly location-specific. You can be a landlord or a handyperson anywhere, and the same goes for blackmail or break-ins. So while I made many additions to the Career Chart as a result of this pack, none of these new career options are limited to Tomarang. Instead, Tomarang has joined the lists of especially good places to pursue several other pre-existing careers, like fisherman (I mean, those waters!).

That said, I did make Tomarang an especially great spot to pursue anything that jives well with vending your wares at the Night Market (and the many extensions to it I added), so being a freelance crafter, artist, food stall owner, fisherman, gardener, florist, jeweler, or anything else that consists primarily of making or collecting small items to sell will be particularly rewarding when playing in Tomarang. I had also listed a new ministry of labor career as a masseur back when the Spa Day refresh came out, but never had much of a dedicated space for it. Now, with Tomarang, I decided to lean into the well-regarded tradition of Thai massage by including three different venues of varying quality where your masseur sim can give commercial massage in this world: a seedy downmarket massage parlor on the Ro Kaya Rockside lot, a mid-tier venue at the historical spa in downtown Koh Sahpa, and an upscale open-air massage area at the four-star Tam Nang Sands Resort Hotel. Plus, there’s a private massage room in the colonial mansion, so if you’re playing as a massage therapist and someone moves in there, feel free to invite yourself over and charge them for private massage services.

On the subject of things at Ro Kaya Rockside being seedy, I chose the building I did for that lot because the builder, eenitmartini (Matinee on YouTube—go check her out!) made this absolutely fantastic criminal lair/hideout/underground nightclub as part of her building, so all credit to her for the fact that there is now an “Illegal Gambling Ring” club in this save file, hosted at Ro Kaya Rockside and open only to criminals, secret agents, and undercover cops. This means that, while not exclusive, Tomarang is also now an especially good place to be a criminal—which is great, because the For Rent pack enabled me to create a plethora of new specialties within the criminal career, including things like “B&E specialist” and “blackmailer” (see the Career Chart for details).

As usual, I have also used the T.O.O.L. mod to add extra activities to the open parts of the world—most notably, I added several extra stalls to the night market, so you can play there as a vendor. You’ll note that most of them do not have sales tables/food stalls at the front of the tent; this is because, as I was testing, I discovered that you can’t actually sell anything using these objects unless the game knows you own them, so you’ll have to bring your own and place it from your sim’s inventory for these spaces to be functional. There are two that are already complete: Alon Sadya’s food stall in the main part of the market, and Chánh Linh’s fish stall on the other side of the buildings, over near the public toilets. These stalls are completely functional for these individuals, but will not be for anyone else unless you have the owners remove those key objects so you can replace them with others that belong to your active household.

Townie Updates:

Vanesha Cahyaputri, poster child for the pack and model landlord, is now running a four-star hotel in Koh Sahpa! She has quite the job trying to keep her little sister from breaking into people’s hotel rooms to snoop, in addition to keeping the buffet table stocked with local delicacies, making drinks for guests and offering them massages when they emerge from their rooms, and of course keeping up with maintenance and bookings.

The extended members of the Linh-Sadya clan now live in a traditional Tomerani family compound that has allowed me to split them into three households instead of two. They routinely throw big potluck-style family dinners in their shared courtyard. The elder patriarchs have both retired from their more demanding careers and are now in relaxing part-time jobs that cater to their interests—namely, fisherman for Chánh (complete with functional night market food stall!) and handyperson for Arturo. Their elder daughter Liên and her husband Alon both work in Morensong, where Liên makes over sims at the salon at Ro Kaya Rockside and Alon runs a night market street grill. Auntie Thi is still a secret agent, but as part of her work she has now infiltrated an illegal gambling ring in Morensong and is trying to uncover secrets at their weekly poker night. She also adopted a new cat, Bub II, a toyger who is a smaller, more approachable version of the tigers that are Tomarang’s special animal. All members of the extended Linh family now know learnable recipes for Vietnamese and Selvadoradian dishes, reflecting their mixed heritage.

The Bun Ma family have established themselves as fixtures at Ro Kaya Rockside, Morensong’s shadier district. Bua runs a hole-in-the-wall noodle soup place, Nin gives massage at various locations around Tomarang, and Kasem runs the illegal gambling ring under the building that Thi has infiltrated—in between break-ins and expert hacking of various trust funds. Yes, you wouldn’t expect it from the sweet-faced young father of an adorable toddler, but that’s part of what makes him such an effective criminal.

But wait, there’s more! A few sims outside of Tomarang have also been updated:

Eliza Pancakes has become much more investigative since becoming a cop. Some people might even call her nosy. Kasem had better hope she never uncovers any of his secrets.

Katrina Caliente took the scads of money she has gotten from selling expensive Selvadoradian artifacts to museums, bought the other three condos in her building, knocked the whole building down, and built a modern desert villa for herself, her two daughters, her dog, and whatever boy toy she’s currently entertaining (still Don, at the moment). She was tired of sharing space, and there are more than enough apartments in Oasis Springs, anyway.

Geoffrey Landgraab got tired of playing secret agent and has returned to what he really always has been: an electric company mogul who owns and operates power plants around the worlds. It’s up to him to fill job vacancies in these plants by “hiring” onsite managers, keeping them happy, and handling maintenance on the plants. What is more, at the same time that he realized he was only fooling himself about the secret agent thing, he also realized he was only fooling himself about being family-oriented, because let’s face it: he disowned one of his sons, the other one is evil, and his wife is a criminal. Instead, he has decided to focus his love and attention outward to the world by re-branding himself as a generous philanthropist. He now regularly attends charity benefit parties, gives to online charities, says yes to anyone who calls him asking for a donation, volunteers his time, and will even go on sprees where he goes around just handing money to random sims on the street. Good thing he has so much that he could live off just investments for the rest of his life.

SimTube star Dustin Broke is running out of material. His jokes, memes, and dances have gotten a little dated. Over time, he has become—well—cringe.

Judith Ward has adopted a tiger (and given a boatload more money to the tiger sanctuary, besides!), as per her lore in the new pack. Her in-house handyman is also now in the actual handyperson career. It’s good to be the queen!

The university administrator who had Jade Rosa house-sitting for so long has returned from the family vacation she took to Tartosa to show her kids their father’s homeland. The family is now happily reinstalled in their big fancy Britechester home, back to work as Dean of Admissions and adjunct art professor, respectively, at the University of Britechester, and back to charging Jade rent for her basement apartment underneath their house. If you’re looking to play either of the advanced branches of the Education career, they are now an option.

The group of salarypersons I downloaded originally as unhoused NPCs in order to give Kado Akiyama some co-workers to do karaoke with have now moved into houses on his own street! While I left most units empty in the places I converted to rental residentials, I did feel kinda weird about leaving an entire street’s worth of stand-alone houses empty except for the Akiyama family—it was just a little too post-apocalyptic for my taste. So since I already had this Mt.Komorebi-based club, I figured I’d turn its other members into neighbors and integrate them into the community a little more.

For users of Frankk’s Language Barriers mod, which is a supported mod in this save file, I have updated the native languages of some previously-existing townies for the new inclusion of Tomaru. Before this pack came out, I used Komorebigo as the stand-in for all languages originating from Eastern Asia writ large—now, I have separated it out into Komorebigo for East Asian languages (not only Japanese but also Mandarin, Cantonese, Korean, Mongolian, etc.) and Tomaru for Southeast Asian languages (Vietnamese, Thai, Tagalog, Malay, etc.). So now, for example, the Filipino sim Jules Rico, who shipped with the Eco Lifestyle expansion, is natively bilingual in Simlish and Tomaru (previously, I’d had him set as natively bilingual in Simlish and Komorebigo). So there have been a few alterations to townies like that. I hope to get to do more updates like this in the future as the Sims team diversifies the worlds on offer and Frankk—who absolutely makes my game with this beautiful mod—continues to expand the language offerings of the Sims universe.

Other stuff that has changed:

I took that excellent new object that looks like a “for sale” sign and stuck it outside every unoccupied house in this save file. I just thought it was a nice touch.

While I was working on this update, I saw a YouTube video that reminded me what a great object the photo booth from High School Years was, and realized I was under-utilizing it. I have now gone back and scattered several more of these around, ensuring that each world has at least one photo booth somewhere. Thanks, lilsimsie!

Pressure cookers and kettles have been strategically added in places where I thought they were needed.

A few of the more run-down houses have the new “maintenance” lot challenge—and some have mold, as well!

I realized there was nowhere to get nectar in Tartosa (a serious oversight), so I scattered a bunch of bottles around the public areas of the large piazza that is the local rental residential in Porto Luminoso. They are just debug bottles and nothing special—for that, you’re going to have to help Hugo Villareal restart Tartosa’s defunct nectar-making business. I’m sure his bottles will be better than the debug ones.

All this updating took me into spring, so seasonal lots (including prom!) have been updated.

That’s it for this update! When you don’t randomly get the corruption bug, it’s actually quite enjoyable. I had a ton of fun doing all the building conversions and playtesting, and I hope you’ll have fun playing, too!

Download now: Career World For Rent update

#career world #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 save file #the sims 4 save file #ts4 save file #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 gameplay #the sims 4 gameplay #the sims 4 for rent #sims 4 for rent #ts4 for rent

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broodingboysimp · 2 years

Text

Is It Really for the Best - pt 7

Azriel x female!reader

Summary: The mating bond between the reader and Azriel clicks into place, but with the potential war with Hybern on the rise, the risk of having that bond fall into the enemy’s hands has the reader and Azriel questioning their partnership.

*takes place after the events of ACOTAR/ACOMAF*

Warnings: angst, violence/blood, smut

Author’s Note: Yayyy happy stuff…. Maybe…. Also please forgive me, I should’ve tagged this as an asshole!Azriel fic because damn lol. This fic is also like slightly inaccurate to the actual books, i’m using most of the plot just not in the same order/occurrence please forgive me. I also have like no clue how to work Tumblr and the formatting confuses me so sorry to everyone asking questions/messaging me, I am trying my best to figure it all out !

Everyone sat around in the living room of the townhouse, talking of their plans when they arrived at the Summer Court, Cassian holding a slight scowl. But their meeting was interrupted by the thud of your landing, the weight of Azriel’s limp body combined with the unbearable pain in your thigh causing your legs to buckle as soon as your feet hit the ground.

Rhys was the first to reach you, lifting your chin to his eyes. You felt tears prickling the sides of yours as you were washed with relief. You had made it home.

“I’m fine,” You choked out, turning now to face Az’s limp body that you held close to your side, and Rhys understood.

Cassian and Rhys had to practically pry you off of his body to carry him to his room, your veins still coursing with panic that it feared letting go meant letting go of a lot more. You simply stared as the two Illyrians carried their slumped friend down the hall, the High Lord ordering Mor to retrieve Madja immediately.

You sat on your knees, bloody hands cradled in your lap, as Amren and Feyre kneeled at your side. Shock had begun to take over your body, the loss of blood from your wound a lot more intense than you had originally realized. You registered nothing as your two friends grabbed you under the arms and sat you down in the nearest chair, and you heard nothing but ringing in your ears as they patched up your wound. Your mind felt empty. Painfully, achingly empty.

Once the bleeding had stopped and color started to freckle your face once more, Feyre and Amren left to assist the others with whatever Azriel might need. You sat for a long while, your body feeling grateful for the lack of movement. It wasn’t until you heard the voices from down the hall that you were dragged from your trance. You couldn’t bear any bad news, so you quickly slipped out of the room and made your way to the roof.

It was dark now, the sun finally having set. This day felt like an eternity, you noted, but it still wasn’t over. You took a seat near the edge of the balcony, the view of Velaris sparkling in the distance, and once again your mind fell empty.

Cassian was the one to interrupt your mindlessness, having slipped up to the roof without you noticing.

“He’s doing just fine,” he said from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. Cassian frowned as he took the seat next to you, “He got a taste of his own medicine for once, but he’ll be fine.”

Tortured. Cassian meant he was tortured. All because you foolishly turned your back on him.

Cassian sensed the guilt you held, “It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. These things happen, and thank the Mother you were there to step in when you did.”

“It didn’t have to happen…” you held your gaze strictly on the city, “I broke my own rule, I let these feelings get to me. Perhaps the farthest thing from smart that a warrior could do.”

“Feelings are important,” You let out a small snort at that, and Cass rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean, dumbass. What I mean is it’s important to feel things, even bad things, because it makes the good feel that much better,” He offered you a small smile.

“I would’ve never pegged you for the philosopher type,” Cassian again rolled his eyes, smiling amusingly, “Doesn’t this war stuff ever get annoying to you? The constant tension of conflict?”

Cassian just sighed, “It’s all I've ever really known, plus I’m pretty good at it if I do say so myself.” His voice oozed with arrogance.

“Well I’m pretty good at sitting on my ass, but you don’t see me doing that all the time.”

“I beg to differ,” Cassian smirked, and you gave him a light slap on the arm. “These things come to pass, and the time to enjoy the good things will have its moment.”

“Honestly you should publish a book at this point,” You smiled, and Cassian seemed happy to see it.

“Whatever, dumbass,” He pushed off his chair and made his way towards the stairs, “Az is resting, but I’m sure he would want to see you when he wakes,” You wanted to scoff at that, doubting every word, but deep down you held a sliver of hope that it was true, “We’re all going to the House of Wind to prepare to leave tomorrow, so you two better behave,” He tossed you a wink, and you gave him a mocked gag in return.

✦✦✦

The breeze on the roof had finally become too much to bear, so you made your way inside. The others had left some time ago, no one else having bothered you on the roof. No doubt Cassian had spoken on your behalf that you were all well and good, and you were grateful for it.

You crept down the hall silently, your wound having fully healed from your Fae magic after the poison had run its course. You passed by Azriel’s door, holding your breath, as if even that would wake him up from his healing sleep. You heard nothing from his room, but as you neared your door down the hall, you swore you felt the bond tug you back in his direction.

The bond felt strong again, the main reason you felt eased enough from the turmoil of the day to try to get some sleep. Azriel was okay, that’s all that mattered, you would deal with everything else tomorrow.

The silk sheets of your bed brought a welcome relief to your back that had been held stiff in a chair for far too long, and the loose fitting nightgown you wore let your skin finally breathe. You felt safe again.

But that thought didn’t stop you from tossing and turning. You could not get comfortable, every position you tried causing tension in one area or another. Along with it, you inevitably couldn’t stop your mind from running.

Running to Azriel.

You should’ve moved faster, done more.

Your stomach churned once more with guilt, but you shoved it down, once more recalling Cassian’s words. Instead, you turned your thoughts to other things.

Seeing Az half naked today, as beat and battered as he was, had you remembering old occurrences between the two of you. Hundreds of years later, and his physique still made your breath hitch. You missed the feeling of his skin on yours, holding his hand today made you recall that, too.

Recollections of moments with Azriel, moments filled with lust and intention, danced across your mind. Your skin prickled with sensitive desire, and before you knew it, your hand had found its way between your legs. You felt guilty once more, finding pleasure while he suffered so close by, but you again pushed it down, your stomach filling with a new sense of warmth.

You worked yourself gently, not realizing how much time had passed since your last release. You back arched, and you could almost feel Azriel’s hand on your spine where it would lay as he buried himself deep within you. As you moved, the coil in your stomach winding even tighter, you whimpered with need.

“Az…” A breathy moan escaped from your lips as you pictured him there, his hands replacing yours. Your eyes were shut with pleasure as your body neared its climax. You continued with your movement, hand faster and faster, and as the threat of pleasure was about to overtake you, you opened your eyes.

You froze, dropping your hand immediately as the black shadows that surrounded your room recoiled with your realization. Your nightgown fell down your body once more as you jumped off your bed and lunged for the door, yanking it open with a furious force.

“Az you PERVER-”

The words barely made it out of you before his lips crashed into yours, hands ferociously digging into your hair. Your eyes widened with shock as you used both hands to shove him away, his bare chest adding even more surprise.

“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” You screamed at him, but you noted that his wounds had begun to heal, practically nothing but a scar at this point. You didn’t let the relief alter your fuming expression.

Azriel didn’t seem flustered in the least. No, he seemed almost cocky, “You called,” He gave you a sinister smile, combing his hands through his dark curls.

Your cheeks burned red.

Damn this fae body and damn fae hearing.

It has its perks, I think, Azriel’s voice echoed in your mind for the first time in weeks. A shiver crept down your spine.

Get out of my head, and get out of my damn room, you angled a scowl at him. He merely smirked in return.

“Is that really what you want?” Az purred, stepping closer once more. You could practically feel his breath.

You could feel your body burning with anger, but the burn was strong with desire too. You had no words, body frozen as your mind went blank and all reason seemed to leak from your body. He once again threaded his hand through your hair, this time more gently, his other hand finding its way to rest on your hip.

His lips were softer as they met yours once again, and this time you didn’t push back. He was moving slowly, sensually, as his free hand messed with the lace that lined the bottom of your nightgown. His tongue reached your bottom lip, and you parted them, allowing him to search every inch of your mouth. You felt like jelly beneath him, barely holding on to your senses.

The kiss deepened, passion directing your every move as you now ran your hands along his chest. The grip on your hair tightened as the pad of his thumb brushed across your breast, releasing a stifled moan into your kiss. You felt Az grin wickedly.

“How bad do you need me?” He whispered into the kiss, and all you could do was whimper in return as his hands continued to explore, now moving closer to your thighs. You couldn’t think, the thought of release the only thing moving your body. You needed it, needed him.

He released your lips, now plump and red from his mouth on yours, and started moving down your neck, peppering you with kisses. He found the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucked, causing a moan from you in response.

“I said,” Az huffed into your skin as he continued to work, his breath sending chills over your body, “how bad do you need me?” His tone was demanding.

You let out a small whimper as his lips searched closer to your breasts, “Az, please…” You let out in a breathy moan. He trailed his kisses back up your next until his lips meant yours again.

“Please what?” his hazel eyes bore into yours, and his voice was rough, almost feral.

Your whole body was melting under his touch, skin burning. You felt the ache between your legs at the lack of his presence. “I-I need you,” you practically choked out.

His eyes seemed to burn with fire at that, his wicked smile once more crossing his face.

“That’s what I thought.”

And then he was gone.

His shadows had taken him out the door within seconds, and you barely had time to find your footing on the cold floor before you could register that he had left. You stood, staring at your door, trying to gather your thoughts at what had just happened. What you had just done.

✦✦✦

To your relief, you wouldn’t have to confront your demons any time soon. Azriel had left the house at some point during the night. Even with all the restless tossing and turning that had kept you from sleeping, you still hadn’t heard the silent shadowsinger make his exit.

The house seemed eerily silent as you made your way to breakfast. Everyone was gone, and you weren’t entirely sure when they intended on returning. But you didn’t mind. As much as the silence was eerie, it was welcome.

You spent the next few days in a routine: training, reading, sleeping. Anything to keep your mind silent. You hadn’t realized how much you were enjoying the simplicity of it all until a letter appeared on your desk one morning. Rhysand and the others were back from the Summer Court and requested your presence at the House of Wind.

You opted for a tight fitting floor length dress, not quite ready to dawn your fighting leathers after a few days of enjoying life without them. You tucked your hair loosely behind your ears and took a look at yourself in the mirror. A few days of rest had done you good, the darkness that normally sat under your eyes almost completely gone.

Days in Velaris had started to bring on a cold edge, the temperature made your eyes water as you winnowed in above the House. You heard chatter as you walked down the steps of the roof, the immediate warmth welcoming you. Everyone sat around the large dining table, and you noted an empty chair waiting for you next to Cassian. The farthest seat from Azriel. Conversation halted when you took your seat.

“Alright, now that everyone is here, we have business to discuss,” Rhysand took over the room with his authority as he ran through what he had to say. You only half listened, trying your best to focus on not looking in Azriel’s direction. Something about the Book of Breathings, about Amren having to decode it, waiting to hear from the queens about some meeting. You realized then how out of the loop you really were, how you’d been far too caught up in your own stupid business to truly awknowledge the looming war.

Conversation passed in a flurry of words, but you kept to yourself, clearly not having anything valuable to add as you were hardly informed yourself. All you knew for certain was that all to do now was wait, and you knew how much waiting put everyone on edge.

“Feyre will continue to train with the assistance of all of us, especially Y/N,” the mention of your name brought your thoughts into focus, “She needs your help to master her Made abilities, anything you can offer her will be useful.” She gave you a small, thankful smile, and you returned the same, excited to share some alone time with your friend.

Once conversations halted, you were quick to remove yourself from the room before you had any chance to potentially run into Azriel. Thankfully, no one was in a hurry to stop you. You winnowed yourself back to your room, needing to soak in a few more moments of alone time before life resumed its usual controlled chaos.

✦✦✦

You were the first to the training ring the next morning, the sun beating down and providing a relatively warm day. Feyre and Rhysand were the next two to show up, the former looking slightly intimated to once again be surrounded by fully trained warriors. Cassian and Azriel were the last to show up.

The group was fully clad in Illyrian leathers and ready to run through warm ups. You placed yourself farthest down the line from Azriel as the group began its lunges and stretches. Cass, who was the next person over from you in the group, noted your intentional placement and chuckled to himself.

“Can’t the two of you just kiss and make up already,” Your cheeks reddened at the recollection of the other night.

“Already tried that,” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Ahh, I see. Az has always been one to think with his head rather than… other parts,” You choked on a laugh in response, causing Cass to grin widely.

The rest of the group seemed to take note of your amusement, as Rhys commented down the line, “Are we done flirting on that end, or do we have to separate the two of you.” Once again your cheeks burned with red, and you noted that Feyre now bit back a laugh. Azriel continued to work through his stretching, face unwavering.

“Don’t be so boring, Rhys,” Cass mused, and he laughed in response.

“If anyone is being boring it’s Azriel,” The sound of his name from your mouth had him meeting your gaze. The others seemed to slow down their warm up as they noted the challenge.

Az had stopped moving now, as did yourself, as he held his stare intensely, “You want fun? Then let’s play.” He didn’t so much as crack a smile as he headed over to the racks of Illyrian weaponry and snatched up two midsized daggers.

Feyre seemed to catch her breath at the insinuation of a knife fight, but you just smiled wickedly. Az knew daggers were your specialty, what an idiot.

The others cleared the ring as you grabbed the blade from his hand, making extra care to brush his hand lightly. He didn’t so much as falter as the two of you fell into your places.

“You know the rules,” Rhys commented from the sideline, and you could hear the layer of nervousness that laced his tone, “nothing is off limits. Except outright murder.”

Azriel grinned at that, his mouth turning into a sinister smile that sent your toes curling. But you returned the smile back.

The two of you began circling, two predators, neither willing to be the prey. Every step was carefully placed, neither opponent willing to make the first move. That was until you got bored of circling and decided to charge headfirst, using your momentum to your advantage.

A flurry of movements ensued, dodging and swinging in each other's directions. You dragged your blade down Azriel’s arm in a swift movement, causing him to curse under his breath. From the side of the ring you heard Cassian huff out a laugh, causing Az’s anger to grow. He rushed you, catching you off balance, twisting you around so your back lay on his chest, your bladed hand now snared in his while his dagger lay across your throat. You couldn’t determine if it was the cool metal of the weapon or his deep breathing against your neck that sent shivers down your spine.

The fighting movements stopped as you stood close, too close, Azriel determining his next move. You smiled slyly to yourself.

“I’m sure there are plenty of other things you’d like to have around my neck,” You said, quietly enough that only Azriel could hear. You felt his breathing skip a beat, faltering. You acted quickly, shouldering him to the ground and pinning his hands above his head, your bodyweight straddled his midsection to hold him down.

The world seemed to fall into silence around you, leaving nothing but your bodies together, as you both breathed heavily. His eyes didn’t so much as falter from yours, his face pale as ever. It was your turn to give him a sinister smile, you had won.

Perhaps you had stayed in that position for a little bit too long. Rhys cleared his throat, and you leapt off of Azriel’s lap. The two of you proceeded to brush yourselves off, not daring to make eye contact. On the sideline, Cassian could not control his laughter.

“I cannot BELIEVE you went down that easy, brother,” Cass clapped Azriel on the shoulder, causing him to tense up. But the shadowsinger was having none of it. He scoffed in his brother’s direction, turning to make his exit from the ring. The four of you that remained just stared as he walked off.

You felt pride in your chest at your victory, but a part of that pride was coming from the fact that you were able to get into his head. After what had happened the other night, you needed to get Azriel back, make him as desperate as he had made you, and this small victory was just the first step.

Rhys laughed, “now that, Feyre darling, is just the beginning of the tricks that Y/N has up her sleeve.”

#azriel/reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #azriel #acomaf #acotar

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starbees-stuff · 19 days

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Magical Nights

An original story written by Me!

Part 1 of 2 (Split into 2 posts due to Tumblr's character limit.)

Summary: after a harrowing encounter with his Friend Nicolas, The sad boy Colby cube Finds Himself Left behind in the dark of night at school, There He meet's an Odd Girl and her even Stranger friend.

content warnings: this story includes Depictions of Physical Abuse, some Blood, and depressing thoughts.

Story below the cut!

It’s Just another day.

A faint light seeped in from behind where he laid, everything was Muddy, dark, Unclear.

His Mind was extremely foggy. His head throbbed in pain. The boy couldn’t remember Anything, Not even his Own Name. He would have stayed in bed if it wasn’t for one thing, a feeling in the back of his mind, a Vague Memory of something he had to do, something very Important.

The boy Rubbed his sandy eyes and Pulled the blanket off his weak Body–He Lumbered off his bed and navigated the blurry walls into the bathroom..

He Pushed open the Door, he hurriedly turned on the faucet and doused his face in the water and stared into the mirror..

The moment he Laid his eyes at the Boy in the mirror ahead, he felt nauseous. it all came rushing back to him. He remembered who he was. who he is..

Colby Cube. The worst person ever.

What a disgusting face.

He Wasted no time in turning away and leaving the bathroom. What was that important thing again?..Oh..School.

It's been 4 months since Colby's last visit, and he doesn't wanna go again, all because of…Ugh.

Even Thinking about it for a moment Made Colby feel like he was being choked, and his Mind grew panicked. He needed a distraction right now, he didn't wanna think about this.

Colby took off his Pink Nightcap and let his Bright red antenna help light the way to the living room. Colby switched on the television and turned the dial to 79, He sat down onto the Couch and took a look at the window to the side..

The sky was a deep blue, it was early.

Colby wrapped his freezing Body in a small sheet left beside the couch, However, nothing could stop the Lonely morning Cold.

Colby Watched the Program and felt himself drift off.. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just…close my eyes for a moment..

—

It was time to leave for School! Colby was in a reluctant scramble to get ready–

“HURRY IT UP!” Colby’s Uncle shouted From downstairs.

Colby Hurriedly threw off his Nightgown and Put on his red shirt, Green shorts, and Glossy Yellow shoes.

He reached Into his Closet and opened up a very special box.. There was a pair of Golden Cotton gloves kept Safely inside. Colby slipped them on and grabbed his Backpack, He was ready.

Colby Walked down the stairs and was about to put his hand on the doorknob when heard someone call for him..

“HEY!”-Colby’s Uncle yelled, Calling to him from the Kitchen.

Colby came over to his Uncle.. “Y-yes?” Colby said nervously.

“I forgot to tell you earlier, but you’re Gonna be going to school regularly from Now on.” Uncle said firmly.

“W-what?” Colby said in shock.

“I’m not taking any more excuses from you. Once in a while isn't gonna cut it.”

“Also..clean your Room when you get back. It's Disgusting.”

“....”

“Uh anyhoo.. Stay safe, and Don’t talk to anyone weird.”

Colby didn’t Utter a Word and walked Out with his Head hung low. All he could let out was a single sigh Knowing what that meant for him…

The walk to school was warm, the feeling of the sun on Colby’s skin was something Colby had not felt in a while. It eased Colby a bit, but his Mind stayed Filled with dread and anxiety the whole walk through..

—

Colby had arrived at School– He was at his Locker Putting his things in, and trying to attract as little attention as possible to himself.

It seemed to be working, None of the Fellow Children who walked past him seemed to care or Notice He came back. Guess the only Boy with an antenna wasn’t so Special after all.

Colby seemed to be safe until he heard a Certain person yelling his name from across the hallway..

“HEY COLBY!”

Colby flinched in fright at the sudden Call, and When he looked, he saw it was Tanglefoot, his tophat wearing acquaintance.

“Colby, I Haven’t seen you in ages!”- Tanglefoot said.

“Where have you been? I was getting worried you might have..Um..W-well, Run away or something You know! H-haha..” “But uh, It's good to see you’re A-okay.” “How's ya know…Life been?”

“I’m F-Fine.” Colby quietly answered.

“uh, Yeah, me too.” Tanglefoot responded.

Colby stayed Mute and went back to shuffling Things around in his locker, Trying to seem busy. Colby wasn't looking at him, But he could feel Tanglefoot’s uncomfortable Presence..

While shuffling his things, Colby’s Notebook slipped out of his hands and fell onto the floor. Colby reached for it but Tanglefoot interjected-” Don't worry, I'll get it.” He said.

“Here.” Tanglefoot said, Holding out the Notebook.

Colby looked up at tanglefoot and froze in shock..

Tanglefoot was confused at his reaction-”Uh, It’s right here..”

Colby Continued to stare and began trembling. The look in his eye was indescribable..

“...w-what's wrong?” Tanglefoot asked worriedly.

Still, Colby did not answer.

Tanglefoot noticed an Ominous shadow cast upon the floor from behind..

Suddenly, Tanglefoot’s head felt..Naked.

“Nice Hat.” A mysterious Voice exclaimed.

Tanglefoot turned around and saw it was Nicolas, Colby's best friend. Holding his hat in hand.

“Wha-H-HEY!” “G-GIVE....IT....BACK!” Tanglefoot Jumped and Jumped to try and get his hat back from Nicolas, but Nicolas just wouldn’t let him reach it.

“Relax. It's just a stupid hat.”

“Move.” – Nicolas said, as he Shoved tanglefoot out of his way.

Nicolas Leaned against the Locker in front of Colby and Looked at him with an Uncomfortable grin.

Colby’s heart sank into his stomach. All he could do was Stand there terrified.

“I’m glad you came back. I was getting bored without my Buddy around.” Nicolas Said.

“please..I don’t..I-I’m s-sorry!” Colby panicked and pleaded.

Nicolas’s Grin faded for a moment after hearing those words.. “You aren't sorry.” - He said.

He quickly recomposed Himself.

Nicolas leaned in closer to Colby, and whispered with a grin.. “I think you and I need some alone time.”

Colby was Scared beyond belief at those words. He knew all the kinds of horrible things Nicolas would do If there was no one else to see..

Colby all of a sudden felt a hand grab his arm.. “U-uh, Sorry but me and Colby wanted to do some stuff, so..” It was tanglefoot! Holding onto Colby’s arm.

“Pff! What would you two ever need to do together?” “Me and Him have some important catching up to do!”- Nicolas said, as he forcefully Grabbed Colby’s wrist.

I need him for this! I need him for that! The two Boys continued to make up reasons as to why they needed Colby, forcibly pulling him back and forth. It felt like his arms were going to be ripped off.

“Pu-p-please stop it!” Colby shouted aloud.

The two Boys let go of his arms and Colby fell straight onto the cold hard floor. Nicolas lifted Colby from up off the floor..

“I think we've wasted enough time with this moron..”

Nicolas Roughly Pulled on Colby’s wrist, trying to pull him away..

“W-wait!” Colby Exclaimed!

“What.” Nicolas flatly replied.

“C-can I say s-something to him? I-I w-won’t do anything I promise..” Colby shakily pleaded.

“....”

“You get a minute.”

Nicolas let Go of Colby and Pushed Him away..

Colby shook, and Took in a little breath and walked closer to tanglefoot.

“I-I-” “I-I’m Fine p-please don’t w-worry..” Colby said.

“Wu-w-WHAT?” Tanglefoot Loudly Blurted.

“Th-that guy’s a Psycho! I-I know what kinda stuff he does to you! What do you mean you’re fine-”

“Sshhh!”

“ah! S-sorry..” “but..why?”

“P-please just go.”

“H-he doesn't do a-anything to me..I’m n-not worth being worried over..” Colby said, shakily.

Tanglefoot's face changed from one of worry to sadness, and then to anger..

“Fine. whatever, I’ll go. I'm done with bothering with this, stay with your Weirdo of a friend, you clearly don't want me around.”

With that, Tanglefoot stormed off, and Colby’s mind began to race..

Nicolas put his hand on Colby’s pale shoulder.. “I think we oughta to get to the fun part now, Don't cha’ think?”

Nicolas whispered, as he grabbed Colby’s arm and started dragging him along..

“HEY!” Tanglefoot's voice boomed from across the hall..

“ugh-WHAT?” Nicolas shouted.

“CAN I HAVE MY HAT BACK?” He yelled.

“SURE!” Nicolas took the hat, ripped the top of it off, and chucked it as Far as he could.

“Hate that guy.” Nicolas remarked.

Colby hated being hurt. He hated the feeling of being hurt. It made him cry. but he could never bring himself to run, He deserved all of this.

“Here we are~~ Get in.” Nicolas had brought Colby to a Lonely Storage room in the school.

Nicolas shoved Colby in, and the door slowly shut behind. The room was dark. The only light came from the worn out bulbs above.

Colby was sweating. He had been through this time and time before But that feeling of anxiety, dread, and terror Never went away, certainly not now.

Colby's heart dropped into his stomach when he heard the sound of the door locking behind him..

“I really meant it when I said I was glad you’re back.”

Nicolas cracked his knuckles. “You make my day a lot happier, bud.”

Nicolas Rushed forward and decked Colby across his face, and knocked him to the ground- Every Punch and kick that Colby got was agonizing. Nicolas Didn’t hold back and Hit him as many times as he could. all with a grin on his face.

Finally at the end of it all, Nicolas grabbed the Injured Colby’s antenna and lifted him up..

He Spun Colby around, and threw Him as hard as he possibly could. Colby smashed into the Wall, And eventually..Everything went dark.

—

Sometime later, Colby finally awoke.

When he Opened his eyes, he saw nothing but darkness. The only light came from his antenna, which burned a bright red.

“O-ow!” When Colby got up from the floor, his body ached with pain and his head throbbed. The injuries he had suffered earlier Had not yet healed, and they likely wouldn't for a while.

Still, he pushed on, and navigated through the dark Room,

When he Found the door, he twisted the knob and looked outside. All the lights in the hall were off, and there wasn’t a single soul in sight..

“H-hello?” But alas, No one answered Colby’s call.

Colby walked through the dark halls and headed for the front door to the school. When he arrived, he looked out the window embedded in the door, and all the suspicions floating around in his head came true.

The Sky was Dark, cloudy, and illuminated by the moon..

He got left behind.

Colby frantically Tried to force the door Open But it just wouldn’t budge. Colby got anxious, he felt like he was choking, and his head was spinning.. (How long am I going to be here for? Uncle’s probably worried to death about me! I’m so awful..I’m such a horrible friend!)

Colby knew he was just going to feel worse and worse if he kept on thinking about those things, but he couldn’t think of a way to stop his mind from racing….Until..an idea popped into his head.

My sketchbook!

Colby Liked to doodle occasionally. What he made wasn’t good in his eyes, But he had fun and liked doing it. It had distracted him from painful memories in the past, and various other emotionally taxing things.

Colby remembered he put the book in his Locker earlier in the day, and went back to his Locker to retrieve his sketchbook and Hopefully, calm himself.

When Colby got there, he put in the combination, twisted the knob, and finally opened the door only to see..…an unflattering Depiction of himself glued on the inside of the door, signed ‘Nico S.”

Colby tried not to linger on it, He quickly grabbed the Book and slammed the Locker shut.

Colby Opened his sketchbook, and was about to Put pen to paper, when…He just…Couldn’t.

He just Couldn’t. He just couldn’t do this anymore. Colby slumped down onto the cold hard floor in utter defeat and hopelessness, wondering How his once Happy life devolved Into seemingly never ending hardship and pain, and how he had nobody to blame but himself for this. Colby’s tears Pooled on the floor below and eventually, Colby’s eyes closed, and the miserable thoughts plaguing his mind slowly melted away. unbeknownst to Colby, this Pain would not last for very long at all.

In a classroom of the school, the glass of a window glowed and Shook, it detached itself from the wall and Levitated in the air.

The Glass gently floated onto the floor, as if it were trying to make as little noise as possible..

Two figures Drenched in shadows came in through the now Open window, the first figure was Thin, and Hopped straight into the Room, When he landed on the floor, He stuck to it for a moment, Like his very feet were suction cups that stuck to the surface they pressed on.

The Second figure Tried to climb her way down onto the floor from the window. however, She lost her grip, and fell butt first onto the floor. The thin figure was Startled, and came to the Girl’s aid, but she quickly lifted herself off the floor and giggled at her own mistake, easing his worries.

The thin figure dug and dug through Countless shelves, desks, and Boxes, trying to find something He desired for them both.

The Second figure was Curious about the place she found herself in and Exited the room, hoping to explore more of the fascinating building she found herself in..

When she entered the hall Something Immediately caught her eye, A faint Red light coming from the end.

She rushed, curious and excited towards the Light, wanting to find out what it was. When she got closer She realized that it wasn’t just a pretty red light, but there was the rest of a Person attached to it too! She had never seen anyone with a bulb growing out of their head before.

She poked and prodded the Light on the Funny person’s head Over and over, So cool, so interesting, so pretty.. However, she made the mistake of Poking just a bit too hard..

The Person’s Eyes Opened.

“AAAAUGGGGH!!!” “AAAAAAAAAAAAA!” They screamed! The Girl ran back to the classroom as fast as she could-

“BOOOM-EE-HEE-HEE!!!” The girl Screamed, Followed by the noise of the door behind her slamming shut.

“W-wait! C-come back!” Colby needed a moment to process what he just saw. There was another person in the school with him, But how could there be? Why didn’t they answer his call earlier?

Colby only saw them for a split second Before they ran away, But he did take notice of one thing..

Their red, Glowing eyes.

Colby didn’t waste any time and rushed to the room he saw them run in. When Colby opened the door he was surprised at what he saw- The entire classroom was a Mess! Desks were toppled over, Papers, books, and various other junk were littered all across the floor, almost like a bull ran through the place.

“P-Please come out, I-i’m sorry!” Colby exclaimed, but the Person was nowhere in sight, It was almost like she disappeared.

Suddenly, Colby felt a droplet fall on his face from above..

(Sw…sweat?..)

Colby Looked Up and saw the girl clinging to the ceiling above, But unfortunately, she couldn’t hold on a second longer.

The girl Fell from the Ceiling and Crashed Right On top of Colby! She Quickly scampered off of Him, and Hid behind the closest desk..

Colby stood Up. “Please listen, I d-don't mean any harm, R-really!”

The girl cautiously came out From the Desk and came closer. “I’m s-sorry I didn't mean to scare you.” Colby said relieved.

“W-would you M-mind I ask you Something?”

The girl stared at Colby, not saying a word.

“Why didn’t you respond Earlier? I c-called out!”

The girl Tilted her head Gave a confused look, Did Colby say something wrong?

Colby’s Mind started to deteriorate again. Colby felt like all he did was bother and scare her. It was time for him to leave, for her sake.

“I..I..I just-” “I’m sorry..” Colby muttered, turning to the door.

“No!” The Girl Exclaimed, as she Grabbed Colby’s Wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

Colby Recoiled, and forcefully ripped his hand out of Her’s, as soon as he felt her hand grip his wrist..

Colby stood there in shock after he realized what he just did. “I-I’m Sorry! I-i just!-”

“Ish ok! Stay!” The girl Said.

“w-what?” Colby was Confused, why would she want him to stay after this?

“stay Please!”

“U-umm..”

“YAY! Ehe.” The girl sat down on the floor, leaned against a knocked over desk, and beckoned to colby. Colby followed and sat down next to her..

The two sat there in awkward silence, both waiting for the other to start talking..

“OOAH NOO! I FORGOT!” The Girl Exclaimed loudly.

“AAH! Wh-whats wrong!?” Colby Asked, worried and startled.

The girl looked to her left and called out-“Safe, Broomy!”

Colby Looked too, and saw an Odd Plunger sticking out amongst the various clutter strewn all across the classroom. Why is there a Plunger here? but more importantly…. who is ‘Broomy’?

But then, something Unbelievable happened. The plunger started Moving!

‘Broomy’ looked relieved at finally Being able to move, It Suddenly Sprouted Two spindly arms out of its Wooden body, and shuffled through a pile of Junk on the floor, Looking for something..

The Plunger Paused, and reacted in excitement at Something, it held up its hand, and showed it had found a flashlight!

It Hopped over to the girl with the light in its hand, It made a distinct Suckling noise as it Jumped around. The Plunger Handed The girl the flashlight, and She gave it a big Ol’ Hug in response. Colby was absolutely bewildered. How could something as strange as a living Plunger even exist? Colby was slightly scared when he saw it move at first, But now he Doesn’t even know what he’s feeling.

The girl sat down once again, this time she turned on the flashlight and placed it on the ground to Illuminate the dimly lit classroom, with Broomy next to Her too.

Broomy waved at Colby-“H..H-hi Broomy.” Colby said.

With the Room now Being Lit up by flashlight, Colby got a more clear look at the girl..

She was a smidge taller than Him, She wore Blue boots, along with a red Poofy, well worn dress. Her hair seemed to be a dark Purple, and she almost always kept a soft smile on her face. Her most striking feature was her Strange eyes, her irises were like Stars and Glowed in the darkness. Colby noticed that his antenna and her eyes shined the same color, a neat coincidence.

“Y-you know it's funny, I’ve..W-well, I’ve never seen anybody with eyes like yours before.” Colby nervously said.

She didn’t Fully understand all the things the boy said, But for some reason...she Felt like she had thought the same about him too.

“O-oh I-I’m sorry, I just realized I haven’t asked-”

“NO SORRY! No wrong…”-She interpreted.

“A-ah! I’m sor…I-I mean..U-Umm..” “U-Uh just, n-nevermind.” “W-what's your name?” -Colby asked.

Continued in part 2!

#story #oc story #oc series #short story #original story #colby and millie #colby and millie story

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sularis · 1 year

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Hi hello Tumblr, long time no see, I haven’t been here for who knows how long, anyways I’ll cut straight to the reason I came back to post this thing and will dip again.

So let’s talk about Belos.

Ever since episode 1 of the 3rd season of The Owl House has aired, I had this theory in my head that just clicked right for me. And it is regarding our behated villain, Emperor Belos.

So, from what we know about the Wittebane brothers is that they arrived in Boiling Isles after being lured by a witch, Evelyn, who in the end made Caleb fall in love with her as well as she fell for him and the two married and were to have children when Philip attacked and killed his brother and began his journey to become a supposedly immortal dictator ruling over the civilization on Titan’s body. We get the gist of what occurred during the events presented to us in Hollow Mind, in Belos’ memories, but there’s still a lot of questions that might be crucial for us to get a clear picture what happened at the time the brothers were in the realm by themselves.

Where did the curse Belos was trying so desperately to control came from? Where the brothers inseparable at all times since they first arrived in Boiling Isles? If so, why didn’t Philip do something about his brother marrying a witch way earlier? What actually lead to Philip taking such a drastic turn and killing his only familiar in the unknown land? His hatred for witches or something none of us really payed attention to?

Answering the 2nd question - No, I don’t think that Philip and Caleb stayed together from the moment they arrived in Boiling Isles. And I think two of the portraits in Belos’ memories could back up my theory.

In here we can see the moment Caleb was lured into the unknown by a witch and Philip (still looking like a teen/late teen at most) followed after them (pic on the left) and then Philip (seemingly a late teen or young adult) standing alone in front of the Isles, either already exploring them or about to explore them.

The brothers weren’t together through their first years in Boiling Isles, they might’ve entered the portal at same/similar times, but they didn’t travel them together.

What I think happened was Caleb started meeting with Evelyn, trying to keep it a secret from his brother and people in their village. Possibly he didn’t feel like he belonged in the witch hunting thing going on and opposed it in secret, so when he met Evelyn and started hanging out with her, he started feeling at home. Philip caught wind of something not being right with Caleb and followed him one day, only to find him following the witch to the graveyard where the original portal was and (maybe) where the two lovers would easily meet, in a place no one could spot them.

Once Caleb entered the portal, Philip checked it out himself and went in soon after, or he returned home, wrote a note about what happened, gathered some stuff he’d need to save his only family and then run through the portal himself. Both possibilities seem fairly probably

Now, once he arrived in Boiling Isles, there obviously was no sight of his brother or the witch who “kidnap” him. But Philip wouldn’t give up started searching for them, simultaneously exploring the new place he was sent to. That’s when he began writing down his journal and documenting everything he experienced in it.

He was young, so maybe that new place fascinated him so much that he started to doubt his previous hateful beliefs on witches, since they were able to live in such beautiful but dangerous place.

But somewhere along those lines, he came across the goo that would be not only his, but also many, many others’ demise.

Why goo though? Wasn’t what he was going through a curse of some kind?

Maybe, maybe not, but from what I gathered, the thing that Belos was in the episode doesn’t feel like a curse to me. Just look at how Hunter could be easily controlled by it just because he came in a contact with it. It infested him, ate him away and took over control of his body to the point that once it left, our boy was basically dead. If getting in contact with it ends up in it being able to completely take over you and kill you in a matter of days, what was it able to do in a span of centuries?

This is how i think it went: Philip was exploring the Isles for a few years now and hoping that soon enough he’ll come across his brother, who he haven’t seen since the day he ventured after him into this foreign land. He stumbled into a weird place and immediately started to describe it in his notebook, when he started feeling very uneasy about the place, as if something was watching his every move from every angle of the place and preparing for when to strangle him when he least expects it. He left the place as soon as he could, thinking that he’ll feel better once he’s far from there, but when the feeling wasn’t going away he started to get concerned. He didn’t know that the supposed water droplet that landed on him while he was still in that place would be what he’ll become in few years, maybe even just months.

I think that goo was a sort of parasite, that once it gets in contact with the targets slowly but surely takes over them and plays them for it’s own benefit. A bonus could be if it was super effective with non-witches, as they didn’t have as strong immunity to the parasite as ones who have the magic organ patches to their heart from their birth. Which would explain why Hunter got possessed by it so quickly.

The parasite was very present in Philips body and he could feel it inside of him, but he didn’t know how he could possibly deal with it since he never came across something like that. So he lived with it as it began to appear as a voice in his mind, pursuing his put-aside hatred for witches and manipulating his memories, feelings and beliefs in a way, that would make Philip unpredictable and murderous, killing the last bits of goodness in him.

Now, the goo didn’t kill him that quickly, it would need more time and power before it would be able to fully overtake him. Philip used palismans to feed the beast, or maybe to maintain it? Like, the monster in it’s real form was an aggressive being who would murder anything that came across it, so to keep it under control, Philip began hunting for either lost or left behind palismans, which when killed could give the goo sustenance and calm it down, so he could manage to maintain control for a little while.

I don’t think that Philip ever actually regained control due to that method, I think the goo just made him think he did to keep him from resisting it, while it already had full control over it.

And now we get to the reunion of the brothers.

Philip finally came across the main city in Boiling Isles, but preferred to keep away from it as he despised the witches very deeply at that point and didn’t wish to get close to them. And then, he witnessed unspeakable:

His own brother, mingling with the witch that lured him there in the first place. This was the first time he saw him since the moment they were separated and what did his brother do over that while? He married a witch and expected a baby with her. That most absolutely enraged Philip and powered by the goo he decided to try and get what even happened out of his brother and possibly take him back home, as he planned from the start.

To his surprise, Caleb welcomed him very happily when he saw him after all those years, even when Philip scared him half to death. He even hugged his brother when goo was overtaking him, which might’ve been a reason as to why Philip carved glyphs into his arms (he probably knew of them well already), to protect himself as much as he could from the goo. The embrace of his brother brought him back for a while, which was enough for him to see that what the monster was making him do was terrible.

But he wasn’t strong enough to put the stop to monster taking over his body, so in the end, furious about Philip possibly finding a cure for it if he were to take the control again thanks to his brothers’ help, the goo decided to kill him and make Philip the enemy of Clawthorn home.

I think only after that situation did Philip carved protection glyphs onto his arms, and maybe whole body, and I don’t know whether those glyphs working was a cost of palismans life or was it to tame the goo, but it didn’t work and Philip succumbed to being a puppet of a monster.

What happened afterwards is more clear to us, Philip gave away his notebook, started searching for a way back home and eventually became what everyone knew him as ‘til the end of his rule - Emperor Belos. I assume that somewhere in between all these he tried to play god and resurrect his brother, but to no avail, so he made grimwalkers in his image.

Look at all the paintings, they all seem haggard and in most cases almost destroyed and I think that it might be due to the goo as well.

See, there’s no way that Philip’s body would be able to stay intact for all eternity, his oldest human form seems to be staying in the time where he was 40-50 or bit older. Even if palismans had the ability to make someone appear younger or keep them alive for longer, I doubt that even with that the person would be able to stay alive for hundreds of years more than they were supposed to. So I’m pretty sure that Philip we knew of died not long after or maybe possibly before he killed his brother. He has been constantly consumed and exhausted by the parasite he couldn’t get rid of, so it was natural for him to eventually pass away. But unlike our parasites, this one wouldn’t leave its feeder’s body even when there was no use of it anymore - well, there actually was use of Philip’s corpse or at very least his appearance, voice, beliefs, partially personality and way of being.

Basically, the goo took Philip’s appearance and everything else and made it its own, with the last thing of actual Philip left in that monstrous body were his very own memories that kept the last sense of him alive, although they were fading away.

Why would the goo keep these memories once it created its own as Belos? The fact that Philip’s consciousness was still somewhere there in Belos’ mind could be an explanation to that.

Now, just because Philip was controlled by the goo into being the monster and dictator he was, doesn’t mean that he back when he was himself wasn’t a bad person as well. He was a part of witch trails after all and he brought many, possibly innocent people to death and I have a suspicion that he was naturally skilled in manipulation, which would make sense if that also was what the goo focused on and mastered over the time it resided in Philip.

Alright, so, I don’t know if anyone else made such a connection or had the same theory as me and if I’m original or not, or if this makes any sense, but it’s been sitting in my head for months now and I had to let it out somewhere. If something seems unclear I’m up for discussion.

Anywho, that’s all to it from my part

#the owl house #toh #toh belos #emperor belos #the owl house philip #philip wittebane #the owl house caleb #caleb wittebane #toh evelyn #evelyn clawthorne #hunter clawthorne #toh hunter #toh theory #wittebane brothers #hollow mind

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