#but if you just dismiss them or consider them pointless we could not be more different people in how we approach media

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

The Danganronpa FTE is like my litmus test for how interested I am in your danganronpa opinions, if you don't understand the FTE and consider them pointless or boring or whatever then we are getting such fundamentally different things from these games that your opinion no longer has any baring whatsoever. Like I cannot relate I'm sitting here reading about the gruesome murder about to happen in five minutes going "damn i wish i could do a fte right now"

#danganronpa #musings from the music manager #i need to talk to my special little guys i need to learn the weird backstory stuff #could it be better done? yes #but if you just dismiss them or consider them pointless we could not be more different people in how we approach media

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 6 - J'ai Dansé Avec L'Amour

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none, really… some kissing and some awkwardness

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Well, this isn't the wedding yet, but it's them both dealing, rather awkwardly, with the idea of getting married as they grapple with their attraction to each other. The wedding will be the next chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Montivilliers (just outside Le Havre), September 1939

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Eloise whispers into the inky blackness.

“What other choice do I have?” you whisper back, unwilling to admit how weirdly calm you are about the scheme.

You are lying in the spare room of Solène’s sister, Marie and her husband Jérôme’s cottage. Sharing the compact double bed, shoulders touching as you converse quietly. It must be after 2am. Benedict chivalrously insisted on taking the sofa downstairs despite being stuck on yours in Paris for the last few days.

“I still say we should find some forgers,” Eloise opines; you can hear the shrug in her tone. “You shouldn’t have to go through with a marriage to my brother just to escape.”

“It’s fine,” you placate, waving your hand dismissively, although likely unseen.

“What about Stanley?”

“I’m sure he will understand when I can eventually get home,” you fib.

There is a brief lapse into silence, and outside somewhere, an owl hoots.

“You know we may have to bribe someone to do this regardless, don’t you?” 

“What are you talking about?” you frown, turning your head to face her.

“There are rules about residency for French civil marriages, and you’ll need identification neither of you have with you, like birth certificates,” Eloise points out.

“Ohhh…” you stutter, feeling sheepish you didn’t even know that.

“Although… Jérôme is the mayor of Montivilliers…” Eloise offers thoughtfully. “And he is sleeping just through that wall…”

“He can marry us?” You’re unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

“If he’s willing to overlook a few things… yes… he could marry you in the Town Hall.”

Internally, you are celebrating even as you try to temper your excitement.

“Then, for my sake, let’s hope he is,” you answer, attempting to sound gravely concerned.

Eloise hums sleepily in response, and it’s your last words before she drops off. You lay awake for what seems like hours, staring up at the beam of moonglow on the whitewashed ceiling. A myriad fluttering in your stomach—a cautious optimism that this could work, a strange excitement at the thought of marrying Benedict, and a vague dread that your family could still be upset if it all works out. 

—

A light, dewy mist lingers in the garden outside the kitchen window as you sip coffee the following morning. A moment of solitary contemplation that has you considering a telegram to your family but deciding against it. Until you know if you can get out of the country, it seems pointless to make them more concerned than they already are.

“Dress shopping?” Eloise asks over a yawn as she plops into the seat next to you at the rustic wooden table in the kitchen, breaking your reverie. “For the wedding…” she adds when you frown nonplussed.

Oh.

“I, umm, was just going to use one I already have, to be honest. That off-white silk tea dress?”

Eloise cocks her head to the side in thought. “Hmm, that might just work - that can be your something old. I have a little faux fur stole you can wear to dress it up - something borrowed. I know you have some powder blue underwear, so we only need something new!” 

“You believe in that stuff?” you frown, taking a sip. It seems so anachronistic for her. You also decide not to ask how she knows about your underwear.

“I know it's not…” she leans in, likely worried about prying ears, mouthing the word ‘real’, before continuing at her regular volume, “...but best not to tempt fate,” she raises a pointed eyebrow, silently reminding you of what is at stake.

“Good point,” you concede as she gets up to grab some fruit.

“Your humble sage at your service,” she jests, taking a comedic bow. 

“But we still have to ask Jérôme…”

“Ask me what?” a genial, heavily accented booming voice rings out from the doorway.

“This one and my brother have gone and fallen in love,” Eloise explains, rolling her eyes. “The soppy idiots want to get married in France as soon as possible. I don't suppose you could help, could you? It would be their dream come true and so very romantic, non?” 

She appears to be piling on the theatrics, but you see that winning smile, the one she deploys whenever she manipulates an unsuspecting man to get her way. Sometimes, you swear it is almost too easy to navigate the world as an attractive Bridgerton.

“Pour vous, ma petit chou-fleur, peut-être…” he responds, an avuncular glint in his eye. It is evident from this interaction and the previous evening when you arrived that Marie and Jérôme have spent time with Eloise, likely in Paris with Solène.

“Merci Jérôme!” she celebrates, kissing his cheek as he affectionately chuckles. “Demain?” she adds cheekily.

“Mon dieu Eloise,” he exclaims as he grabs a croissant, “C'est très bientôt!”

You try to listen in as they rapid-fire converse in French, but you only follow along with every few words, maybe something about paperwork, but really, you are not sure. It mostly seems fond exasperation on Jérôme’s part, so you sit hopeful, just as Benedict wanders in.

“Ah, the other love bird!” Eloise cuts away from their chat. “I know you want to get married so quickly, but please do not make out too much in front of Jérôme!” she titters pointedly at Benedict, her eyes cutting from him to you.

Benedict seems to cotton on very quickly, and you startle as he leans down and brushes a featherlight kiss onto your cheek.

“Bon matin, mon amour,” he rumbles, his minty breath warm, causing goosebumps to break out over your arms.

“Morning, my love,” you whisper back stutteringly, the words almost tacky on your tongue, your mouth suddenly so dry. Your eyes meet, and it's the closest you have ever been, captivated by the tiny flecks of colour in his iris. He doesn't look away, and you seem unable. 

“Oh oui, je le vois, l'amour vrai… ” Jérôme mutters quietly across the room. “I will see what I can do,” he offers in English as you finally tear your eyes away, him giving you a nod before he takes his leave.

“Well done!” Eloise enthuses quietly with a big thumbs-up gesture once Jérôme has left the room. “Really convincing!” she adds before twirling out of the room with an apple jammed in her mouth.

“Sorry about that…” Benedict offers, a little flustered.

“No, please…” you can't think of anything else to say, almost tongue-tied as you replay his kiss on your cheek like a looping projector reel, wanting to add ‘do it again’, a tingle still lingering on your skin. 

There are a few beats of awkward silence where he seems on the precipice of saying something, but you are almost afraid to hear it, as if worried he wants to conjure an excuse to back out.

“I…I need to buy my something new!” you exclaim, jumping up and scurrying out of the room, leaving Benedict mildly perplexed about what that might even mean.

—

After a successful trip into Le Havre, where you and Eloise found your ‘something new’ - a pair of ivory Mary Janes that will complete your outfit - the day ends with Jérôme and Marie taking you all to a local restaurant. A delicious meal of many courses with flowing carafes of wine under the bright red canopy outside. It turns into one of those late nights with convivial conversation and bonding with strangers.

A band strikes up in the cobbled square, and after a few numbers, Jérôme drags Marie up to dance as the three of you cheer.

“Les tourtereaux!!” Jérôme exclaims after the song ends, gesturing for you and Benedict to join them on their makeshift dance floor.

“Non..non!” you protest, gesturing a no with your arms and laughing, a languid feeling in your bones from good food, drink and conversation.

But it appears he won't take no for an answer, and as Marie giggles and applauds, Jérôme marches over and grabs you both by the elbow, hauling you to your feet.

“Danse!” he commands.

You and Benedict exchange slightly nervous looks but emboldened by wine; then you gasp as a strong arm wraps around your back, and your other hand slides into his.

“Just go with it,” he breathes into your hair, and suddenly, you are spinning, the stars above you twinkling, as he leads you expertly in a swing dance.

“Mr Bridgerton, you can dance!” you exclaim in blithe amusement, clinging to him as you move together in a balletic union.

“As can you, Mrs Bridgerton!” he peels carefree.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you lose your footing. Benedict has to grab hold and haul you back upright before you collapse onto the cobbles.

“Sorry…” he blusters, his arms still around you, “I…I wasn't thinking…”

“No, no. That will indeed be my name…” you stumble, almost as if that is only just occurring to you now. “I'm just getting used to it, that's all,” you lie, knowing that is not why you lost your footing. 

He seems to accept that with a nod, and after a beat, you begin to move again, tentatively, Until the wine takes over and you are once again both giggling and dancing, his arm a strong brace around your back as you move together for many minutes, a joy fizzing in your veins.

At one point, you glance over and see Eloise with an odd expression on her face before she orders a drink from the waiter, but Benedict whips you around, and you get lost in the dance and in him. The feel of him wrapped around you at once safe and exhilarating.

“Kiss!” comes the yell from Jérôme as the song ends.

“You know, he's not going to shut up until we do it,” you raise, a little breathless from the dancing.

Without you having to say anything else, Benedict’s hands grasp around your waist, and you are lifted off the ground, taller than him. Then he tilts his head up and captures your lips with his.

Time stops.

The feeling is like an explosion and a perfect calm silence all at once. His lips don't open, but they don't need to - even this gentle kiss is a soft, sensual plushness that obliterates all your thoughts. A lingering tang of wine on his slightly dampened lips that you want to lick off, a plunge of lust in your belly that has you fighting the urge to wrap your legs around his hips and open your mouth, demanding a real kiss.

His hands slide around your back in a gentle cage as he lowers you to your feet. What upends you is the breathtaking look in his eye when he finally pulls away, pupils blown, face soft and full of yearning. You could never tire of that look.

“Get a room!” Eloise yells, and there is an uncharitable tart edge to it that breaks the spell and makes you look over at her. She appears much more inebriated than she was before.

“Is she okay?” you ask, your hands still wrapped around Benedict’s biceps, warm through his shirt sleeves.

“I think she ordered absinthe, so maybe not,” he answers, and you feel a pang of sadness as he releases his hold and gestures gentlemanly for you to walk ahead, to return to the table, the moment lost.

Half an hour later, Benedict and Jérôme are on either side of Eloise, helping her back into the cottage, much worse for wear. They get her to the sofa, where she promptly passes out and begins to snore lightly. Marie covers her in a blanket, and you realise it's unlikely you will be able to move her tonight.

“Well, you two will have to share the bed. But do not worry, I shall not tell your families,” Jérôme winks. “I can’t say Marie and I were saints before our marriage,” he adds with a tap on his nose and an uproarious chuckle.

Your eyes dart to Benedict and his to you. Panic, excitement, and apprehension all bubbling up inside—a volcanic eruption in your gut. You trust him not to take advantage; it’s yourself you don't trust.

Jérôme wraps an arm around both of your shoulders, red wine heavy on his breath “Oui, I will marry you tomorrow, mes amis. I can overlook some rules for a true love like yours.”

With that, he takes his leave, with you and Benedict left looking uncomfortably at each other, unsure if you should celebrate. That feeling remains as he suggests you go up first and get ready for bed, and once you are nervously tucked under the covers as he enters from the bathroom, those broad shoulders framed with a white t-shirt and the same bottoms he wore in Paris when you watched him sleep.

“I really wish I'd packed a proper pyjama set,” he sighs ruefully as he approaches the other side of the bed and slips under the covers, seemingly arranging himself right at the far side.  “I'm also so sorry about Eloise landing us in this situation. I can't believe she was that irresponsible,” he adds with his back turned but an unmistakable tinge of irritation in his tone. 

Even then, it’s a small bed, and you can feel his body heat radiating under the covers.

“You don't have to cling to the edge,” you offer hesitantly, “we are to be married after all…”

The last words are a whisper that sounds almost wounded, and he twists over, a look of surprise crowding his features.

“I am merely being respectful...” he replies cautiously.

“I know…” it's barely audible, and you can’t look at him.

The overwhelming awkwardness makes your chest ache, your hands wringing together nervously under the covers. What feels like mere moments ago, you were swept into his arms, and he was kissing you as if your lives depended upon it. And now this… the juxtaposition of reality and the fairytale you both act so well draws a lump to your throat.

“This whole situation is so odd,” you confess quietly, unable to be anything but honest with him.

“I know… I'm so sorry it has come to this.” 

You have no idea if he means tonight, the marriage or even life in general, in a war that could come to your doorstep any day.

“I don’t regret anything,” you volunteer after a beat.

“Neither do I…” his earnest whisper makes something inside you crack open, your palm itching to squeeze his hand.

Instead, you exchange soft goodnights, and you lay stock still for a long time, backs towards each other, feeling at once too close and a million miles apart.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

[starlingflight]

Ginniversary Drabble 9

Prompt: B1 - You sort of start to believe anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.

AO3 or read below:

It had been an exceptionally long morning. Not, as Harry would have preferred, because of any threat posed by a dark wizard, but because of the sheer amount of tremendously boring meetings he was expected to attend in his new position as the Deputy Head of the Auror Office. 

His eyes flicked to the clock on the far wall of the stuffy meeting room he'd been sequestered in for the past hour. They were now two minutes over the allotted time to discuss the thrilling topic of the proper layout of risk assessments, and still there was no end in sight. 

Harry stifled a yawn behind his hand. Across the table, Hermione was still scrawling furiously across her parchment; it was almost like being back in History of Magic. 

Except he had never been rescued from History of Magic by a very sheepish looking trainee popping their head into the room and declaring, “sorry to interrupt, Mr Potter, but your wife is here, and she says she needs to speak to you.” 

Hermione looked up sharply from her parchment, throwing him a questioning look across the table. Harry shrugged wordlessly, torn between utter delight at being saved from the drudgery of the meeting by an alternative as pleasant as Ginny, and concern that she'd apparently shown up, unplanned, in the middle of the day. 

He wasted no further time excusing himself from the table and slipping out the door, where he immediately found Ginny awaiting him in the corridor beyond. 

“Sorry,” Jenkins, the trainee, said. “I told her I'd fetch you, but she wouldn't wait at your desk.” 

Ginny shook her head. “And I told you, I'd find him myself, if you'd just tell me where he was.” 

In fairness to Jenkins, he only shrunk slightly under the weight of Ginny's accusatory glare. “I'm sorry, Mrs Potter, but as I said, I can't allow you to go wandering around the Ministry unescorted–” 

“Well, I'm escorted now,” Ginny said sharply. Her hand slipped into Harry's, and he couldn't help but notice it was trembling slightly. “Consider the Ministry safe from the threat of an unsupervised Quidditch player.” 

“Thanks, Jenkins,” Harry said in a slightly more amiable tone. “I've got it from here.” 

A look of relief washed over Jenkins’ round face. He nodded his head sharply in acknowledgement of the dismissal, and then quickly took off down the corridor in the direction of the lifts. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, now able to focus all of his attention on Ginny. Her hand was gripping his tightly, and her foot was tapping impatiently against the polished wood floor. “I think you might have made Jenkins cry.” 

Only one side of her mouth curved into a smile, and even that quickly fell again. “Surely he's got to have more fortitude than that if he wants to be an Auror.” 

“We usually start them off with something a little bit less intimidating than your temper.”

Her laugh was short; Harry suspected she'd given it over reluctantly. “Is there somewhere private nearby?” She asked. “I don't know this floor.” 

They were on one of the lower levels, a rarely visited section of the Ministry that was, in Harry's opinion, a fitting location for the pointless meeting he'd just escaped. 

He could take her back to the Auror Office, it was almost lunchtime; no doubt he'd be able to find a spare meeting room now, but he could feel nervous energy radiating off Ginny in waves, and he doubted she had the patience for the journey. 

Moreover, Harry doubted he had the patience for the journey when every moment he spent in Ginny's mysteriously agitated presence was causing trepidation to rise more strongly within him. 

“Come here,” he said decisively, pulling her a few steps down the hallway until he reached an innocuous wooden door. It opened to reveal a small, tidy broom closet. 

Ginny hesitated for only a moment, casting him a doubtful look, before ultimately stepping inside. Harry followed her in, letting the door fall shut behind them with a soft click. 

“Lumos.” 

The light from his wand cast an ethereal glow over the tiny space, illuminating the stacked boxes of Magical Mess Remover, several ancient sweeping brooms, and Ginny's tense face. 

Her hand tightened in Harry's; she drew a deep breath. “This is really not the appropriate place to tell you this.” 

“Tell me what?” Her nervousness was infectious in the tiny broom cupboard; his stomach began to tie itself in knots. 

“I probably should have thought of some clever way of doing it.” 

His nerves seemed to tense beneath his skin. “Doing what?”

“I was going to tell you at home, but I couldn't wait that long, it was torture–” 

“Gin, you're torturing me.” 

“Right. Sorry.” She slid her free hand into the pocket of her robes with agonising slowness. When she removed it, she held a small glass bottle out to Harry. 

He placed his wand on the stack of Mess Remover boxes, angling the ignited tip at the vial and illuminating the vibrant purple potion within. 

“Purple for positive,” Ginny said, her voice unnaturally high. 

“You're–” Harry didn't manage more than a single word; his mind was reeling, his brain had ceased functioning, and the only thing his instincts told him to do was pull Ginny closer. 

He felt her breathe a sigh of relief against his lips, and then he was kissing her with such ferocity that neither of them could catch their breath. 

The knots in Harry's stomach unwound, replaced by soaring elation that set his head spinning faster, and made clinging onto Ginny even more necessary than it usually was. 

His elbow knocked into the stacked boxes beside him, sending them tumbling. His wand clattered across the floor. 

Ginny broke apart from him. They were both laughing breathlessly. 

“You're happy then?” She asked, her grin visible even in the dimness of the cupboard. 

“Yeah,” Harry tried to frown, but his smile seemed to be permanently fixed to his face. “Did you think I wouldn't be?” 

“I thought you might be a bit anxious,” she admitted, still smiling widely. “It's a bit of a daunting prospect… y'know, raising a child… making sure you don't mess it up.” 

“True,” Harry agreed, though the scope of the task did not seem capable of penetrating his europhoria at the current moment. “But, you see, the thing about being married to Ginny Potter, is you sort of start to believe anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.” 

#hinny #harry x ginny #ginniversary bingo #i'm so close to catching up on these gd prompts

[liesmyth]

Blood cancer, necromancy and physical ailments

This started as a reflection on the evergreen “but could John have healed Cytherea’s cancer?” and then it went off… somewhere else, namely necromancers being physically frail and what it means for the worldbuilding and thematically. Bear with me etc.

what do we know about the nature of Cytherea’s cancer?

Very little! We know it runs in the necromantic line of the Seventh, but we don’t actually know how house heirship is passed, so we don’t know if it only affects one / a few family lines or most of the House. Cytherea-as-Dulcie says that her family “wanted her to keep the genes going,” implying that the illness was rare outside her immediate family, but Dulcinea doesn’t seem to have been under the same pressure, from what little we know.

Another guess is that the Seventh hereditary cancer is tied to necromancy in some way, as it seems to only manifest in descendants who also exhibit necromantic attitude. If that’s the case, then it’s likely it is a strain of leukemia that manifested post-resurrection and didn’t exist before (like necromantic ability) and like necromancy, it can’t be studied properly – because the understanding of the illness barely evolved from Cytherea’s time to Dulcie.

[FOUR more bullet points under the cut]

why I don’t think John lied about not being able to heal Cytherea

A variety of reasons. The obvious one is that it would be pointless not to heal her, if he could. The Lyctors dismiss the theory that cancer makes a necromancer stronger (“Seventh House woo-woo,” cit. Augustine) and so does Palamedes, who studied it for years. I'm going to assume they're right. Then there are no benefits to John in keeping Cytherea ill, except watching her suffer, and this is deeply at odds with John’s entire shtick in which they’re all a happy family and he makes a point to personally serve everyone at dinner because he’s just some guy. John likes to think of himself as the good guy, even when he's being actively terrible, and there’s no way to spin ‘let someone live with cancer for millennia’ in a way that makes you look good to yourself.

Additionally: if he had lied, then it would have been with the knowledge that it would backfire horribly if it ever came out he had, and completely shatter for good the happy family act. Conversely, the Lyctors have had ten thousand years to consider their long list of grievances against John, and they all studied Cytherea's cancer to figure out how to help her when she joined them (per HtN) but don’t even seem to consider the possibility that John refused to help when he could have. Mercy, the ultimate anatomy savant, is so pissed off at John that she’s ready to kill him — I think if she had even vague suspicions it would have come out in that confrontation. The only reason it didn't, IMO, is because she knew how the illness worked better than we readers do and had reasons to confirm John's claims herself.

if John wasn’t able to heal Cytherea. Why? he’s God, etc

This is where I take a step back and look at the broader picture. Necromancers are frail. They are physically slight, have low endurance, and are physically weak. Judith is a decorated officer but she runs a 10 minutes km (a fast-paced walk) and Ianthe can barely hold up her arms to do her hair (probably an exaggeration by Corona, but not by much). These are also people who could kill someone at a distance with only moderate effort, but can’t turn that power inward to give their own bodies a boost. The same goes for the various reproductive issues we hear of in the series – Harrow’s parents, of course, but also Abigail and Magnus being unable to conceive even with all the resources of the Fifth.

It seems that necromancy can be turned against others – manipulating their bodies – with a lot more ease than it can be used to fix necromancers’ bodies, which have some level of ‘flawed by design’, probably related to the way their bodies process thanergy. There's no juicing up Judith’s lungs to make her run faster, and necromancy doesn’t make Abigail and Magnus's genes compatible for reproduction. IF the Seventh House cancer is tied to necromancy in some way, it seems plausible that it can’t be “suppressed” from the organism of a necromancer, because it’s just another facet of their abilities.

(That said, it all hinges on that big IF! My theory that it would make very little sense for John not to heal Cytherea if it was within his abilities IMO holds whether the cancer is tied to her power or not, but if it’s the second one then I can’t begin to guess why.)

the #THEME of it all

Look. I just think that “some things can't be fixed by necromancy if they are rooted in it” is pretty plausible as a worldbuilding detail (setting the limits of a magical system) and also it really resonates as a doylistic writing choice. Magic has a price, and so on. I just think it’s neat!

(And, again, I think it makes more sense as a framing for the characters’ actions, from how John likes to play the good guy to how Cytherea probably has some amount of control over the tumors in her body, post Lyctorhood, just as Lyctors have detailed control over every other cells in their organisms. There’s something about the way she decided to go on for millenia, “mostly cancer and a little bit woman” as a funeral monument to her lost humanity. I’m not eloquent enough to put it into words but I’m gonna link to these tags by @thewinterstale on this OP by @theriverbeyond. Big thoughts, big brains etc.)

IF cancer doesn’t make someone stronger, why do people think it does?

We know “thanergy boost at the moment of death” is a real thing. It is a leap that slowly dying for years = more power during your lifetime, but it’s not an unreasonable conclusion. What is odd is that we have multiple informed accounts that it doesn’t (Augustine, Palamedes) but the idea keeps being perpetuated.

(Ianthe seems to believe that it does, but fwiw this is not Ianthe’s area of study and I find it plausible that she’s just repeating something she has been told which, again, makes sense superficially)

Anyway. Cytherea knower @thewinterstale​ has suggested that maybe Cytherea herself is the reason why the Seventh House, to the present day, believes that cancer = power. She was incredibly talented despite the illness, so much that the Emperor summoned her specifically as the last disciple in his super-exclusive circle. And that was the last the Seventh House saw of her.

If the memory of Cytherea that lives on was that of an incredibly powerful necromancer, the miracle at Rhodes, cancer-ridden and so powerful… that’s enough fuel for a dangerous myth. Maybe, through the millennia, all the Seventh House hoped to achieve was to produce another Cytherea – suffering and all

#tlt thoughts #cytherea #seventh house #tlt theories #DEATH. DYING. ILLNESS. PRICE OF POWER #I JUST THINK IT'S NEAT #the locked tomb #tlt

[chebyreksan]

It’s been a while…but-

Feel like you fic (part 3)

———

Pomni was lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. A feeling of anxiety enveloped her and pressed her chest, preventing her from breathing normally. She tried to find out what the reason was, but there was no answer to it.. It's exhausting.

It's scary.

This..must be stopped

She glanced at the bedside table and picked up the box, examining it by the light of the lamp. Until now, it was not clear why, of all the possible things, she was given this one. No, that didn't mean she didn't like the prize. More like simple curiosity, nothing more.

She sat down

,,Maybe I shouldn't have left him there?..What if this is a bad idea?..’’

Anxiety turned into guilt.

,,..I didn't even say thanks for the prize..I didn't do anything to deserve this..I left him there..What if I stay with him and try to talk to him? What if it will be easier for him?..’’

With these thoughts, the girl went to that room, clutching the box to her chest and looking only ahead. She didn't care that she might be seen and asked where she was going. Does it really matter? She was more worried about whether he would hear her, and the rest was just small things.

Pomni closed the door behind her and looked in Caine's direction. He was sitting under the ’’moonlight" like a statue, and the corners of the room were dark, ominous. It seemed as if something would stretch out its clawed paw and try to take it into the darkness, from where it could not get out.

Jester sat down next to Caine. His eyes were burning with a blue screen of death, his hands were at his sides and his face was expressionless. She began to doubt whether it would be strange to talk to him in such a state, but she quickly dismissed it

- Caine? Do you hear me?..

Silence.

Girl leaned, like Caine , on a rectangular green figure. not the softest place to rest

- ..I know it might be pointless or weird..But I hope you'll hear something..

She looked at the box in her hands and put it on the ground

- ..well, I want to say thank you for giving me this.

an awkward smile appeared on her face

- I don't really know why, but she calms me down, can you imagine? I often listen to it now when I'm tired or worried..Maybe it will be nice for you to listen too

Pomni could have sworn she heard the sound of crickets when silence fell.Exhaling, she decided to change the subject

- You know, we've been thinking.. We think you should get back in shape. There's nothing wrong with what you've changed, but..if it causes so many glitches and problems..then there's no need to suffer. Moreover, we are already used to it and do not consider the real form to be something unpleasant, do you understand?

Quietly. Pomni put her hand on his shoulder, shook him a little

- ..we're worried about you..

She looked at the empty walls and at the ceiling, ’the moonlight" of which fell on them

- you don't have to look like a person to be one, you know? It's enough that you think, you say, you... um

She fell silent, realizing what to say, "you're already a human being, even if ai’ doesn't sound very good

- ..Caine, please don't do such stupid things just to please or be human..even sometimes people themselves may not look like they are, you know?..

Pomni didn't want to talk about all her thoughts, but something told her that it would be nice to tell at least some of them

- We're... different from each other and that's the whole point..It's corny, but we're unique in our own way and you're no exception. And...

no. It was hard for her to talk about it when she didn't remember anything about her life before the circus. It was useless

- ..I'm such an idiot..

Jester tucked her legs under her and rested her head on her knees, looking in Caine's direction. Nothing has changed. Pomni sighed and opened the lid of the box. The music filled the room, bouncing off the walls and seeming to fly up to the ceiling, towards the sky.’ It didn't bother her that the music might wake up the guys. What will she get for it? She just wanted peace of mind. She wanted to go home.…What’s house?

What would she call home? A house where there is a green meadow with a quiet stream and a real sun? A house where fresh pastries smelled delicious and it was pleasant? Where no one yelled at her for the work she had done and threatened her with redundancy? Where was someone very important and the only one of her family waiting for her? Where-

Clap

Pomni raised her head and looked at the box, which she closed without realizing it. A feeling of longing and sadness filled her. A feeling of loneliness, fear and misunderstanding. I just couldn't stand it and burst into tears, not holding back anymore. She held on. She truly held, but this place put pressure on her mentally and physically. It feels like a gun is held to your temple and they're asking for something you don't know. How could she even know that it was possible to enter this world? How was she supposed to know that putting on a headset was a good idea? She didn't know and probably never will.

- I-I can't do this anymore.. I... can't m-I can't-she sobbed, covering her face with her hands.

It was quiet until the box started playing. This caused her to raise her head and jerk violently in surprise as she was wrapped in an embrace. Her face was buried in shoulder, causing her eyes to widen in surprise

- It's okay, darling. It's all alright. This should help you calm down, right?

,,Caine?’’

Pomni did not understand how to react to this, but then hugged him tightly in response, sobbing more softly. It's been a long time since she hugged someone to calm down. She missed it so much. To have someone hug you and make you feel safe. To feel that you are not in this damned circus, but somewhere in a more protected place.

- you..a-Are you okay?

- Yes, dear, I'm fine and I hope you feel better too.You need to get some rest now, okay?

- ..but-

- no buts. In your condition, it will be very difficult to talk. We'll talk about it later, okay?

Pomni nodded. The entertainer snapped his fingers and the girl felt herself ,,tired.’’ She didn't have the strength to do anything, or say anything, so she quietly fell ,,asleep’.’

When they were in Pomni's room, Caine put her on the bed and sat down next to her. He thought of leaving immediately, but something made him stay here at least for a while. My hands tightened a little. It's a strange desire to hug again, to stroke her head, or maybe even-

Mistake.

Action cancelled

Non-compliance with the system

Rejected

Caine twitched when he realized he was leaning close enough to pomni's face. He quickly pulled away, hoping that the girl hadn't noticed anything.

- *Sigh * was close..-ringmaster said softly, getting out of bed

He hurried out of the room, nervously straightening his bow tie and remembering something. Before it dissipated..their little conversation.

~~~~~~

- Queenie, can I ask you a question?-cheerfully flew up to the lady Caine

- Hm? Yes, what is it, Caine?

The lady turned her head in his direction, sitting on the yellow figure, folding her arms and keeping her back straight. Despite her outward seriousness and coldness, she was not as expected. She was the one who was the first to get in touch with the newcomers and always supported them. She spoke warm and soothing words, stroked their heads and hugged them, helping them to get to their feet. Thanks to this, the entertainer began to understand how people calm each other down, but one thing he did not understand from the word at all. That's what made him approach, as he called her, ’help number one."

- I wanted to ask you about one thing. Look, I can understand hugs and other calf tenderness and some words like, "love’ and other things..

- But?

- But I don't understand these things between you and the Kinger . What do they even mean?

Queenie thought about it and then laughed a little, shaking her head

- Oh, you mean the kiss, right?

- The what?- Caine asked with curious, tilted his head to the side

- a kiss. This is how we show our love to each other

- Oooh, and what is the point of this?

She looked at where Kinger was and smiled

- We only give a kiss to the person who is very close to us and very much in love, you know?

- Mmm, yes, except for the close part. That is?

- So you see and feel more for him or her than for other ordinary people. You're putting him or her up a notch, roughly speaking

- Wow! Do you divide each other into loved ones and ordinary ones? You people are a very strange

- Thank you -Queenie chuckled

The ringmaster thought about it, clutching his cane a little

- and how did you realize that you are something more for each other?

- Oh, I can hardly remember how we met..but it feels good. When you love, you treat your loved one more especially than others. I want to spend a lot of time with my beloved, learn more and feel more, you know?

- Hmm, I doubt that I will understand this

- Don't worry, it usually becomes clear over time. And who knows, maybe even you can find someone?- queen giggled slightly, covering her mouth with her hand

- Oh, it's funny, dear Queenie, but I doubt it very much

- You doubt it, but I believe. Even if you're not like us, it doesn't limit you to find someone special, right?

- ..thank you, dear Queenie

- Glad to help you

The Queen looked at Kinger as he built a fortress out of pillows. Her words made the ringmaster think.It sounded very tempting to him and he was curious how he would get to know this ,,special person’’

~~~

Caine sighed softly, looking back at Queenie's door, crossed out with a red cross

- maybe you were right, Queenie. Maybe I did find her..

#shit I forgot how write- #the amazing digital circus #tadc caine #showtime #pomni x caine #tadc pomni #fandom #fic #tadc queenie

[lossie92]

I'm working on Cranes and that fic just got longer again, though thankfully I know I can finally cap it at 6 chapters and not be tempted to add more.

Also, I can officially confirm there will be a very spicy scene in this fic 🙃

The below is the first few paragraphs of chapter 5, which I'm editing rn.

Hope you enjoy!

-

To be honest Madara hadn’t spent much of his time envisioning all the little moments he could potentially experience if, by some miracle, Tobirama ever returned his affections. In fact, he had considered such thoughts to be fanciful and rather pointless. Expecting anything good to come out of what he had at some point started to subconsciously think about as hapless love was a path that led straight into heartbreak and his heart was already fractured. It was difficult to say whether it could possibly handle another blow.

Having Tobirama agree to walk him home, their hands brushing every so often and the tension between them growing with each step they took, was more than he could have ever hoped for.

He didn't know why lovely, beautiful Tobirama would do that. The reason why the omega stepped closer instead of moving away once they made it to Madara’s house or why he kissed him of his own volition, breath hitching and his hands trembling where they were fisted in Madara’s kendogi was a complete surprise as well. A pleasant one, sure, but a surprise nevertheless.

Apparently – miraculously – Madara might have been wrong to dismiss the possibility of a relationship between them and he had trouble wrapping his head around that.

In many ways it felt like a dream come true. 

Madara could feel the warmth radiating off of the omega’s body and the cool flow of his chakra; could smell his sweet flowery scent, which deepened the longer they kissed, indicating not only contentment, but tentative arousal as well. It was beyond heavenly and better than anything he could have envisioned.

The kiss didn’t last for long. It was relatively chaste too, but all the same Madara found himself breathless in the aftermath, his heart beating wildly when Tobirama didn’t move away immediately afterwards, choosing to press their foreheads together instead. The intimacy of this moment was undeniable and though Madara had no idea where it was all coming from, he couldn’t help how happy it made him, the elation threatening to make him burst into tears.

The words “We need to talk” took him by surprise, though he should have seen them coming. Loathe as he was to let fear rule him now, to allow it to ruin this little bit of unexpected happiness, it was inevitable. 

Good things never lasted long, did they?

"Talk," he repeated after Tobirama, trying to keep his tone even, which wasn't an easy fit. "Talk about what?"

“I know you,” Tobirama all but blurted out, his face heating up in a fierce blush, the reason for it likely embarrassment. Then he swallowed before looking up, a strange sort of determination in the set of his jaw as he continued, “I know it’s you. I know you were the one to... to leave the flowers. To bring me the gifts. I know.”

#mdtb #madatobi #madara #tobirama #cranes verse #uncle madara au #a/b/o au #wip #naruto #naruto founders #naruto fanfiction #lossie writes

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Idk trying to be measured or something?

Debates on bg3fandomcritical got me thinking about wanting to write more meta on queerness, also I have an opinion, it seems.

Ages ago I made a short silly post that was the beginning of a word document that I've not added much to since about reading BG3 as a queer text.

The post was about how I have been playing too much BG3 to write about BG3, but that I really wanted there to be more meta on it. I wanted this so that I could selfishly read it, without having to do any of the writing myself.

Specifically, I wanted more about queer themes in the story, and the way characters express queerness. And I wrote that after the very first time I saw someone else complaining about BG3 not being queer enough. How it just hadn't done enough or gone far enough and actually wasn't even gay at all, now that they thought about it.

I was confused, but not as confused as they were because it turns out they hadn't played the game, and didn't really know anything about it besides what they'd seen in some memes. They thought the extent of the queerness in the game came down to being able to customize your character, and romance whoever you want.

And I don't want to dismiss that, because I actually do think that's worth exploring as a queer element itself, and not just because of the medium; the plot of the game is all about struggling against an autonomous collective that just assigned you this procreative role against your will. So, with that in mind, I actually do think having some say in your gender, gender expression, and sexuality isn't thematically insignificant, in that doing anything else would be contradictory (and super ironically serve as a counterpoint) to the overall message and theme of the game.

Ultimately, the story presents a kind of library of babel (tldr on the library of babel is that it's a library where every book possible exists, somewhere, and most of them are unreadable nonsense you can literally waste your whole life going through the shelves trying to find a book that makes sense but you probably won't because the statics are against you, so you just get to go mad knowing that all your favorite books and a perfect autobiography of you exist here somewhere, along with a perfect autobiography of you in which you are replaced with a bag of marbles etc.), albeit very scaled down which I hate saying because the whole point of the library of babel is that it's both infinite and finite (its an analogy for the universe and the pointless search for meaning within, maybe I should have included that with the tldr) scaling it down messes that up, but it is by necessity because we can't conceive of infinity and we certainly can't program it, though the modders are sure gonna try it.

We can imagine hundreds, thousands of new scenarios every day, and that can keep going until we're dead. And so far, that's kind of been my relationship with the game. I'm constantly starting new playthroughs with new characters with new backstories and taking everything I've learned to create a slightly different scenario, and the game really plays into that by accommodating my imagination to a pretty broad extent. But, like, I could easily slip into a tangent never to return, so I'm just going to shift back over to what I'm really trying to say before I get lost: Being vague about character sexuality for each of the romanceable companions, is actually really important and purposeful writing in this context. Most of what we do get from them is very vague, blink and you miss it moments, flirting with another NPC, or casually referring to a past partner with certain pronouns, or euphemisms. If they were too firm about their preferences, that would influences the "most likely scenario" in this library of babel context. At a minimum making each of the characters open to any scenario with any partner (under the right conditions) is something that they would have had to consider and I think they narrowed the possibilities as much as they ever should have. Death, choice and moral alignment acts as a hard litmus test, and a point of no return threshold for certain characters, but apart from that, you're free to romance who you want, and you're free to headcanon whatever sexuality you want onto whoever you want, and you're free to change your mind next playthrough.

There are some characters who are explicitly pansexual. Halsin is the very best example of this, because he's very direct, talking to the player character about past romantic and sexual relationships. But past romantic and sexual relationships aren't definitive, so even then, his explicit pansexuality is also negotiable, because everything is written to be negotiable. For my own part, I think having a headcanon sexuality for certain characters that you prefer (or even that you can't mentally/emotionally separate from them) besides pansexual is totally fine. I'm bisexual, and that could easily influence how I feel about it personally, which is that I can imagine any of these characters with partners of any gender. It does not feel weird to me in any context to imagine any one blurbo getting hot for anyone else. But if you've got a headcanon sexuality for them that's different, more exclusive, then cool.

At this point I've romanced every character in the game, most of them a few times, and each time I'm in character creator planning the run and thinking about who I'm going to romance this time, I have to take a minute to consider whether I'm playing M/F/N this time around, and every possibility is always on the table for whoever I'm romancing.

But, I wouldn't call this playersexual, because I think we should have retired that term before it had the chance to come into popular use again. I've complained about this before, but as I remember it, this was the word that Bioware invented to make excuses about why certain characters (the one that was really egregious was Jack, a canonically pansexual woman) just weren't available to romance unless you played as the opposite sex.

And don't cite the deep magic to me. I remember. I grew up in a house that always had fox news going, it's one of the reasons I'm so angry all the time now, and I don't care about Bioware's shareholders. I do think it was cowardice you aren't going to convince me otherwise.

The counterpoint is that the utility of "playersexual" is as a writing criticism. The idea is that characters in a video game should feel like real people, and that being able to (functionally/effectively) project something onto them (like sexuality) isn't something you can do with a real person, so it shouldn't be something you can do with a well written character.

First of all, I don't think that well written characters necessarily need to feel like real people. Orin doesn't feel like a real person and I love it, I love the way she's written, I think its great. And to feel like a real person, a character doesn't need to be like a real person. No one is like Karlach, at least on a physical level, but she feels very real because clever analogues.

But, I don't really want to go all the way back to the assumptions that a lot of these opinions rest on, and how they don't hold up. Let's skip to the part where a lot of people think these characters should have a fixed canon sexuality that's evident and unchangeable in their gameplay and mechanics, if not in the actual writing around them. Meaning you can only romance certain characters if you chose a gender they canonically prefer in character creator, all the way at the beginning of the game, or that to romance certain characters as another gender, you have to get a cute little Abigail "realizing something about myself" inclusion.

And that's one way to go about it, but I don't think its automatically worse writing to simply not do that. I don't think purposefully allowing for any scenario in this context is bad writing, I think it's playing into the above themes. I think if you want to only ever romance a character as one gender or another, because of how you perceive them, you should do that. I romanced Minthara as a man the first time around, and didn't think it felt weird at all, but now that I've romanced her as a woman, I'm probably just going to stick with that going forward because I liked it more. That happens. Having headcanon that a certain character is a certain sexuality or has specific preferences, isn't wrong, and isn't contrary to how the game was written and programmed.

But for sobbing out loud can we please just use the term pansexual instead of playersexual? It's accurate and gets the point across and doesn't have all that baggage attached to it.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 meta #baldur's gate 3 meta #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 gale #baldur's gate 3 karlach #baldur's gate 3 shadowheart #baldur's gate 3 wyll #baldur's gate 3 halsin #baldur's gate 3 minthara #baldur's gate 3 lae'zel #bg3 fandom critical #bg3 critical

[cursedprincesarchive]

Sparking Curiosity

What an utterly horrid little…place. 

Ceri hesitates to even call this mudhole a village, even though the shabby sign on the outskirts had boldly claimed to mark “Everglade Village, a sanctuary protected by the forest.” The main square is little more than a haphazard collection of wooden shops and a town hall surrounding a stone well. The streets are bare dirt, kicked up into a disgusting mess by the livestock and people that pass by. Hard to tell the difference between those two groups, to be honest. Both sets of creatures stare blankly ahead as they walk, only interrupting their shuffle to make pointless noise whenever they see another of their ilk; and neither man nor beast seems particularly inclined to talk to Ceri. They had attempted several times to ask where one could find a place to stay in this village, and every single person they had talked to had mumbled something about “outsiders” before walking away without another word. Their impudence makes Ceri’s skin crawl with disgust. A well-placed column of fire or two, and they could reduce this place to a pile of ashes within a few minutes. 

Unfortunately, Ceri isn’t in a position to be picky. They have been away from the manor for almost a week now, looking for new students. The venture had been a complete failure, and certainly hadn’t improved when they were waylaid by another pyromancy teacher on their return trip. The man had introduced himself by setting fire to Ceri’s carriage, killing their best driver and horse. The moron then challenged them to a duel, claiming that he would “put a stop” to Ceri’s teaching career. Like most of the other pyromancy teachers that Ceri has met, the man was a talentless hack. They had taken full advantage of his lack of talent and dispatched him with ease. The whole ordeal had not only left Ceri’s carriage a smoldering mess; but also left Ceri stranded without transportation in the middle of the forest, with the sun starting to dip below the horizon. This village is the first place they had stumbled upon, and nightfall was too close to consider moving on. 

Ceri crosses their arms impatiently and scans their surroundings from where they stand next to the well. Most of the nearby shops still seem to be open, perhaps they would have better luck talking to one of the proprietors. As they try to pick the storefront that looks the least disheveled, a young woman with red hair approaches the well. Ceri steps forward to intercept her. Finally someone in this town is willing to talk to me.

“Pardon me, but do you know where-“

“We don’t like outsiders staying here.” The young woman’s voice is terse, “you’d best get moving to wherever you’re going, stranger.” 

“Well,” says Ceri, barely masking the outrage that this hick’s curt dismissal provokes, “I would just love to leave, but unfortunately my carriage was destroyed by highwaymen, and I-“

The girl raises a hand to cut them off, an action that causes Ceri to clench their hands in order to quell the sparks that jump to their fingertips. “I don’t care. We don’t accept outsiders here. Not even for one night. I suggest you find…” she suddenly trails off, looking at something over Ceri’s shoulder. She goes pale, and without another word, hurries off in the direction of the town hall; making a sign of warding against evil. Ceri wonders if they were doing a poor job of masking their anger until a voice pipes up from behind them. 

“Sorry about Clementine. She’s a real bitch.”

Ceri turns to look at the person behind them, and is surprised to see an ordinary-looking girl. From the reaction that the red-haired girl had, they were expecting to see some kind of leper or hag. The only exceptional thing about this child is that she is a little taller than most people in this area, her blue eyes almost level with Ceri’s. 

The girl continues talking, shifting her weight from foot to foot, “Everglade is pretty hostile to outsiders. There isn’t an inn; but if you’re looking for a place to stay, Ma keeps a bunk in the shed out back of our house for travelers.”

Ceri sighs and grits their teeth. A shed is hardly adequate accommodations, but they’re out of options. “Yes. That sounds amenable.” 

The girl cocks her head at their sentence, clearly confused by their choice of words. It was probably a bit too much to expect that level of vocabulary from someone living in a backwards village. Thankfully, their tone comes across well enough and the girl gestures for them to follow her. The walk to her house is silent, though Ceri notices with some interest that every single villager they come across gives the girl a wide berth. Several of them also perform various warding signs upon spotting her. After one person spits towards the girl, Ceri can’t help but comment on it. 

“They don’t seem to like you very much.”

The girl gives a bitter laugh and answers without turning around, “Like I said, this village doesn’t like outsiders. I wasn’t born here, so I count as an outsider. I guess.” The last statement is softer than the others, and her posture stiffens a bit as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. Ceri makes a sympathetic noise, and the girl seems to relax somewhat. Her voice has returned to normal by the next time she speaks up. “What’s your name? Sorry I didn’t ask earlier.”

“Ceri the Wise. Though I’ll allow you to just call me Ceri.” They flash the girl a smile, which she returns eagerly, amusing them. 

“My name’s Lyssa. Just- just Lyssa.” She seems almost hesitant introducing herself, and stumbles over her words ever so slightly. The awkward silence that follows her statement is broken when she spots a small house at the end of the road. “Oh! We’re almost there!” The two of them soon reach the front door, and Lyssa turns around to face Ceri before opening it. “I’m sorry about this, but Mom won’t let strangers in the house anymore. Can you wait out here?” 

Ceri feels another twinge of annoyance, but agrees to wait on the porch as Lyssa enters through the front door.

“Ma, there’s a traveler outside; can they stay in the shed?”

A tall woman with copper hair held back by a yellow scarf moves away from a pot on the stove as she responds, “I don’t see why not, come help me grab some linens.”

Ceri leans against the doorframe, watching as the girl and her mother move out of sight. Strange, that woman doesn’t seem like the type to ban strangers from her home. At the very least she seems more amicable than the rest of these backwater-

“Pyromancer.” The voice that interrupts Ceri’s thoughts is laced with a mixture of caution and disdain. They turn to look at whoever would be so rude as to begin a conversation like that, and are surprised to see a small woman staring them down so intensely that Ceri almost breaks eye contact.

“Can I help you?” they sneer, examining the woman. Though short in stature, she’s built like a fighter. Every inch of her body is made up of lean muscle, and her arms bear multiple scars from bladed weapons. More importantly, she’s standing next to a mounted sword on the wall. Ceri can clearly see the emblem of Flann engraved into the pommel of the massive blade. They continue to examine the woman, neither person making any move to be the next to speak. The standoff is interrupted when the taller woman and Lyssa return with a small pile of sheets and a blanket. As Ceri turns to face them, the shorter woman scoffs and moves towards the kitchen.  

“Sorry for the wait.” Lyssa walks through the door and Ceri follows behind her. “This should be enough, it doesn’t get too cold around here at night.”

Ceri is almost pleasantly surprised when they make it to the shed. It’s a small structure, barely half the size of their study at home; but it fits a single bed, a small side table, and a stool well enough. The interior is nearly spotless, which is a relief. They can’t stand the filth some of these people choose to live in. Lyssa immediately gets to work placing the sheets and blanket on the bed; and leaves soon after, promising to return with food once it’s ready. It’s not long before she returns with a small tray containing some kind of soup with a small loaf of bread next to it. Ceri gestures for her to place the food on the side table, busying themself with organizing the few possessions that they had managed to salvage from their carriage. They decide they need more light to see what they’re doing, and send a small flame jumping from their fingertips to one of the candles sitting on the side table. Lyssa gasps at the simple spell, causing Ceri to look at her bemusedly over the top of their glasses. 

“What was that?” Lyssa is staring in fascination at the candle, and Ceri quickly recognizes the look in her eyes. So many of their students have that same look the first time they ever see pyromancy. It never gets old. 

“A simple pyromancy spell.” Ceri says, noticing that Lyssa is staring at them with rapt attention. “I can do far more than light a candle.” To illustrate their point, they flick their wrist and summon a ball of fire above their palm.

“I wish I could do something like that,” Lyssa sounds wistful as she stares at the flames dancing in Ceri’s hand, “I’d like to see Alder try to hunt me down then.” A slight smile crosses her face. “I’d like to see anyone try to hunt me down.” 

Ceri smiles at the girl, and extinguishes the flame with another flick of their wrist. “I could teach you.” They lean back to observe the girl’s reaction, and she doesn’t disappoint. 

Her eyes light up; and she leans forward, clutching her skirt with excitement, “Really?!”

Ceri motions for her to sit down, and she obediently pulls the stool towards her and sits. Good. She can listen to directions. “I’m not just a pyromancer. I teach the art to people with potential, people like you.” The girl is hanging on to Ceri’s every word, like so many of their students before her. “I have a school where I take in potential apprentices. Many of my students have gone on to become powerful pyromancers, almost as powerful as me. Though,“ they pause and raise their hand; and, as if on cue, Lyssa leans further towards them. “I will warn you that I expect only the best from my students. I do not coddle. If you think you can handle it, I would be willing to take you on as a student.” Lyssa is beaming at Ceri’s offer. “I can’t take you in right now; but if you make your way to my school within the next month or so, I’ll accept you as an apprentice.” 

Lyssa’s face initially falls when she hears she has to wait, but she rallies quickly. “How will I know where to find you?” Her leg is bouncing up and down rapidly, and her hands keep wringing the fabric of her dress. 

“Can you read?”

“Yes, the village school taught me how to read and write when I was younger. I even help my ma with writing the descriptions for her fabrics.” Lyssa seems proud of this minor accomplishment. 

“Good.” Ceri pulls a piece of paper and a pen from their belongings, and sketches a simple map with the location of their school marked in bold print. As they add some additional directions, they continue talking to Lyssa. “I do expect that you’ll not dally too much. I am always looking for prospective students, and I would hate to have to turn away someone with your potential just because you waited too long.” 

“I won’t!” says Lyssa, almost stumbling over herself to protest. “I have to leave Everglade before I turn eighteen anyways, I can be at your school within a month at most.” 

“Very well.” Ceri hands the map to her, and she neatly folds it into quarters before carefully placing it in her skirt pocket. “Now leave, so that I can eat in peace.” Lyssa follows Ceri’s order and exits the shed, quietly thanking them before closing the door behind her. The food that she had brought them is plain, not to Ceri’s taste; but the satisfaction of having found at least one new student on this godsforsaken outing puts them in a good mood. They blow out the candle with a smile on their face before going to sleep. 

The next morning, Ceri is awoken at a frankly ungodly hour by the sound of a rooster crowing. This is why I insist the staff keep livestock far away from the main building. They groan with displeasure, and hurriedly gather their belongings. If they can make it back to the main road, then they should be able to reach a less isolated village before nightfall. As they exit the shed, they notice that Lyssa and her taller mother are already awake and working, mucking out the small goat pen behind the house. Ceri shudders with disgust. At least that girl won’t have to live a life doing labor like this if she becomes my student. What a waste. The tall woman gives a friendly wave in Ceri’s direction, which they politely return. Lyssa glances up at them briefly, and they give a knowing smile that causes the girl to quickly look back down at the task in front of her. As Ceri walks back towards the road that leads out of town, they notice the shorter woman glaring at them from the kitchen window. They can feel her gaze on their back until the house is well out of sight. Hopefully Lyssa is smart enough not to bring up Ceri’s offer to that woman, she seems likely to react poorly. 

After a few more days of traveling and a stay at some far nicer accommodations, Ceri finally walks through the front gates of their property. The servant that greets them seems surprised to see them alone and on foot, but nods seriously when Ceri explains what happened. Another servant draws them a bath, and they spend the rest of the day relaxing and poring over notes that the staff had left for them. The time that they had been gone had been uneventful, aside from a student not returning from a scheduled practical exam. Well, at least I’ll definitely have space for that Everglade girl when she arrives. They make a quick note to themselves to ensure they don’t forget her name and settle back into their day-to-day routine of teaching.  Three weeks later, a servant enters their study to tell them that a girl by the name of Lyssa has arrived at the front gates. Ceri smiles, excited to see what their newest student has in store for them. They expect only the best from her. Their students do not fail.

#player

[jonathanvik]

Starlight Dream - Chapter 37

“Impossible.” Blood spattered from Yuuka’s mouth, her breathing pained. Yet, Miko only tensed. Somehow, the briefest weakness she’d sensed had vanished despite the Devil Princess seemingly being on the ropes. 

“Finish her!” Takako said.

“Got it!” But Seina tensed, clearly reluctant to deliver the killing blow. After a moments hesitation she gritted her teeth and leaped forward. Before her punch connected, however, it froze in place. Seina squirmed, finding herself unable to move. 

With a graceful spin, Yuuka ripped herself free of Takako’s ribbon. Blood stained her mouth and fireman’s outfit, but the Devil Princess only gave a malevolent smile. 

“Nice try!” Yuuka said. “You see. I stole the moment of my death. Thanks to my ability, I’m unkillable! Your little plan was pointless. Nothing can stop me.”

“Oh, crap.” Miko shivered, terrified out of her mind. What had she been thinking striking a Devil Princess?

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” Yuuka said, giving Miko a baleful glare. “I don’t appreciate traitors, intendant. It should fill your heart with rainbows to give your life for my pleasure. Why else do you think we keep you around? I’ll make sure your death is a most agonizing one.”

“Hey, leave her alone,” Seina said, standing protectively before Miko. 

“Huh?” Miko blinked, confused why the other girl would do this considering their checkered past.

“So you can steal your ability to die? So what?” Takako said, joining the protective stance before Miko. “Now stop boring us and fight already.”

This causal dismissal raised the Devil Princess’s hackles. But her annoyance turned into a smirk, knowing something they didn’t.

“I changed my mind. I won’t transform after all. Too dull. Besides, I like this false hope. It’ll make it much more fun when I crush you.” Yuuka said. 

“Yeah, get them!” Her fairy partner said with a cheer.

The Devil Princess stretched, cracking her neck. Yuuka flicked out a hand and, much to their collective amazement, summoned her two-handed broadsword. “Let the devastation begin!”

Seina was the first to meet the Devil Princess’s wrath, Yuuka’s oversized blade striking like a snake. While the girl was nimble, Seina couldn’t avoid the blazing speed of the attacking broadsword. Steel met flesh, leaving a deep gash across the girl’s torso. 

“Now, I’ll steal your ability to act on your own, foolish girl,” Yuuka said with maniac glee. She clapped as Seina almost clipped Takako with a sudden swing.

“Hey! Get a hold of yourself.” Takako summoned her ribbon around herself, deflecting a blow that would have crumpled her skull. 

“Sorry!” Seina said, her eyes fearful. “I really can’t control myself.”

“That’s right,” Yuuka said. “And now you’re going to kill all your friends!” 

“No!” Tears stung Seina’s eyes, unable to resist Yuuka’s commands. From the sidelines, the Devil Princess watched like a happy peacock as Takako barely deflected Seina’s blow. 

How had the situation turned so disastrous, so quickly? Miko kept searching but found no weaknesses as Yuuka stood with her arms crossed. 

A pained grunt escaped Takako’s lips as a punch slipped past her defenses and struck her full in the chest. The girl’s breathing turned pained as the blow crumpled her chest cavity into dust. 

“Yep, that’s the Seina I remember!” Takako said through bloody teeth, smiling from some private joke. 

“I’m sorry!” Seina said, eyes widening in horror.

“Never fear. It isn’t your fault.” Takako replied, giving the hateful Devil Princess a baleful glare. “But I can change that.”

Before Seina could slip away, Takako wrapped her ribbon around the girl’s waist. Instead of ripping the compromised ally to shreds as Miko expected, it tightened its grip instead. Seina blinked and tested her fingers, surprised they operated again under her own power. 

“Now, go get her,” Takako said, her breathing pained as she started to heal. “I’ll just rest over here if you don’t mind.” 

“Understood,” Seina said, summoning her wand and whipping a bubble toward Yuuka. 

“What the?” The Devil Princess barely dodged away, staggering as the bubble burst with the force of several explosions. Miko winced, her ears bleeding from the sheer noise of the blast. Yuuka fared little better, howling in pain as Seina used the distraction to deliver a punishing blow to the gut. 

“What?” Yuuka said, eyes widening. “I stole your will! You can’t act on your own!”

“I imagined it back, sorry,” Takako said, beaming from her resting place. 

“You! You!” The Devil Princess seethed, stamping her foot on the ground, furious someone had undermined her game. Her blade danced in the air to take Takako’s impudent head, but Seina intercepted it with her odd wand. 

“I won’t let you harm her,” Seina said with a frightening glare, striking with a blow that sent the Devil Princess reeling. 

Incredible. While the Devil Princess was an implacable foe, Seina was hurting her. But Miko knew their fortunes might change at any second. All Yuuka needed to do was touch Takako’s ribbon, and she’d nullify its power with a thought. 

Yuuka lunged forward, but Miko chose this moment to strike. While the Devil Princess slipped away from her kunai knife, it kept Yuuka from stealing Takako’s power. 

Not that Miko’s luck lasted for long. She almost lost an arm as the blade dug into her right biceps. She gasped as her body fell limp, like a marionette with its strings cut. 

“Not so tricky now, are you?” Yuuka said, pulling up one of Miko’s limp arms and playing with it. “Sorry, but I’ve stolen your ability to move. Classic, right? Well deserved for a traitor!”

Panic set in as Miko stared up helplessly at her tormentor. The Devil Princess made it clear her demise won’t be gentle. But once again, the mad Seina took a protective stance above her. What the heck was with his girl? Why fight to protect an enemy? And it cost her too, Miko watching in horror as Yuuka’s two-handed broadsword almost bisected the girl. 

Yet, she approached her doom without fear. Yuuka stared in astonishment as Seina grabbed hold of the giant weapon, despite its blade piercing several centimeters of her flesh. Yuuka tried pulling it free, but Seina refused to budge. 

“Are you stupid or something?” Yuuka said. “I’ll just repeat what I did to that intendant. I was bored with controlling you, anyway.”

“Now!”

Yuuka howled in shock as a blade dug itself deep into her chest from behind. She turned to find Paliah grinning at her. The Devil Princess snarled, stretching her talon-like fingers out to grab hold of him,but was forced to jump away as a blade of energy slashed toward her neck. Ume grunted in annoyance, certain she’d have the killing blow. 

“Hey, that’s cheating trying to gang up on us!” Yuuka’s fairy said in protest. 

“Fair.” Ume said, snorting in derision. 

“Next time, call sooner!” Paliah said, readying his weapon. “You scared me half to death!”

“Yeah, I suppose so. But we needed her vulnerable.” Seina tossed the enormous sword aside, holding tight the open wound across her middle. 

“Two more? Pointless! Pointless! You still can’t kill me!” But the Devil Princess’s breathing turned labored. Unlike Takako’s blow from earlier, Paliah had pierced her heart. 

“And I have an ally,” Yuuka said.

They watched in horror as Takako’s ribbon slipped away from Seina’s waist, re-enabling Yuuka’s control. Miko cursed, realizing she’d missed that the Devil Princess’s earlier slash had sliced a piece off.

Paliah howled in pain as he received a sudden blow from his partner, blood pooling from where it had crumpled his armor. He watched in terror as Seina bared down on him, eager to crush his skull. 

“I’m sorry, Colten. I can’t control myself!” Seina said.

“Don’t worry about me. I got this,” Pariah said, dodging a wild blow aimed at his head. Ume joined the scuffle, preventing Seina from hurting her partner more. 

“Damn, what does it take to break Yuuka’s curse?” Takako said. Even with her power of imagination, she couldn’t match the Devil Princess. 

Am I stuck this way forever? No, Yuuka’s ability must have some counter. Focus Miko. You’re the one best suited to this task. You can find its counter!

 “Come on, kill each other! What’s wrong, little knight? Can’t protect your damsel? What a shame!” Yuuka said, clapping in delight as Seina wailed her fist at her fairy partner. And laughed harder as she crumpled Ume with a single blow. 

“I’m coming!” Takako said, freezing as Yuuka blocked her way. 

“I won’t let you use that annoying trick again.” The Devil Princess said. “Tell me, can you imagine where you don’t end up as a crimson smear on the ground?”

Before Takako could reply, she gasped in shock as she suddenly found a hand piercing her chest. Without a sound she collapsed imobile on the ground, not even breathing. 

“Takako!” But Ume dodged away as a sudden kick slashed toward her head. Only her reality-warping powers saved her from a follow-up attack. 

The two engaged, Yuuka howling in delight as she chased the girl around, making her incapable of helping her friends. 

No! No! No! Tears stung Miko’s eyes, realizing how little of a chance they’d actually stood against this monster. Even if Emiyo and Chō rushed to help, they’d be just as useless. Then, like magic, Miko blinked as the latter suddenly appeared. 

“...”

“What have you been doing, anyway?” Miko asked, curious why the girl hadn’t appeared since the battle started. Instead of replying, Chō showed her notebook with half its pages missing. The girl smiled, wiping sweat from her brow. 

“What have you been scheming?” 

Chō pointed towards the sky. Miko gasped as thousands of the girl’s distinctly designed robots appeared in mass, each slashing or shooting at their enemy at once. As usual, each had a distinctive design and appendage for battle. Chō was always the artist. Unprepared for this sudden onslaught, Miko watched in awe as the Devil Princess got shot from the sky. 

“Worked better than I thought,” Emiyo said. Like Chō, she appeared exhausted from some effort. To answer Miko’s unasked question, Emiyo elaborated. “I desynced Chō’s creations from time. Annoying to coordinate, but effective.”

“You little!” Yuuka howled in fury, slashing into the robot horde with her two-handed broadsword. But they kept coming, stabbing and shooting the Devil Princess. It forced Yuuka to recall Seina to aid her against so many opponents. While Miko didn’t doubt it was only a minor respite, it was a welcome one. 

“Now it’s up to you, Miko,” Emiyo said, her tone serious. “How do we counter her stealing ability?”

As the Devil Princess fought, Miko focused her senses, searching for weaknesses and oddities. Few, to be honest. But something caught her eye, making her wonder. On Yuuka’s belt were tiny specs of color, each sparkling in the sunlight. Wait, were those there before?

If she steals something, doesn’t that mean it needs to go somewhere? It couldn’t be that simple, right?

“The gems on her belt,” Miko said with renewed confidence. “Destroy them, and I think it will restore anything she stole.”

“Is that right?” Miko jerked as she suddenly found Paliah standing above her. “That makes this simpler.” 

“You… you have my power,” Emiyo said. “I can feel it.”

“Yeah, that’s the freaky fairy I told you about!” Miko said with some vindictiveness. 

Her friend’s expression turned hard, thinking the fairy’s existence was blasphemous. Emiyo snorted and turned away. “We can worry about that later. First, we stop that monster.”

“Works for me. Together, we can accomplish the objective.” Paliah said. 

While this sickened Emiyo, she nodded in agreement. “Chō, watch over Miko.” Then the two disappeared. 

Together, the two proved a formidable team. The odd pair worked in tandem to assault their foe, pressing her hard. They flickered around the arena, never appearing in the same spot twice. Their attacks confounded Yuuka, who still suffered from the mechanical onslaught. Yet, the Devil Princess kept her waist out of reach, each swipe missing its target by a hair.

“Got my power figured out, do you?” Yuuka said, her tone containing open mockery. “Too bad. It’s too little, too late!”                             

“No, I don’t think it is.” A voice said, poofing into existence from empty air. The Devil Princess jerked in surprise. The shock gave both Emiyo and Paliah the opportunity they needed. Yuuka howled in pain, her belt slipping from her waist as an energy blade cut it, while Pariah’s sword pierced through her arm. Himari plucked it from the air and zipped away. 

“Enough of this.” Himari’s bracelet jingled, and shards of leather exploded in every direction as the belt burst to pieces. “It is done.”

“Thank you!” Seina said, experimentally flexing her hand. She beamed, gladdened to have her autonomy restored to her. 

“This is really ticking me off.” Yuuka’s fairy said. “How many of you are there!?”

“Please stop this pointless fight,” Himari said. “Go home in peace. There’s no need to fight anymore.”

“What?” The Devil Princess said, bewildered. “Me, surrender?”

“Please, this doesn’t need to end badly,” Himari said, trying to stay reasonable. 

“No! You are all dying here! All of you! This entire planet. No universe. No, this sector is going to burn! Burn! Burn! Burn!” Yuuka said, losing her composure. 

Fear stabbed at Miko’s heart, the Devil Princess wasn’t joking. 

Before anyone could stop her, Yuuka resummoned her brooch. But it slipped from her hand, her injured arm unable to hold its weight. 

“Don’t worry, I got it!” Her partner said, snatching it from the air. 

Yuuka gasped as Himari thrust a palm into her chest. Kindness gasped, suddenly falling from where she’d been perched.

 The Devil Princess flailed, her body losing cohesion and breaking up into particles which dissipated in the air. Genuine fear flickered over Yuuka’s face but before she could utter a curse, the Devil Princess vanished into nothing. 

“It’s done,” Himari said, her tone grave.

“Yuuka!” Her partner said, shaking from shock. 

“You destroyed her?” Miko said, wide-eyed. While injured, it shouldn’t have been that easy! What the heck was this girl’s power? 

“No, I threw her body into a higher universe,” Himari replied. “Sorry it took so long, but that trick Ume suggested took longer than expected to learn. I kept destroying the test object by accident!” 

“And it worked just as I hoped,” Ume said, smug. “It isn’t death, but an eternal prison is a nice second.” 

“What? You didn’t kill her?” Emiyo said, incensed. 

Miko had to agree. What kind of stupid plan was that? Yet, despite Yuuka’s injuries, the Devil Princess’s weaknesses were minuscule, almost nonexistent. Even in her civilian form, she might have been too insurmountable a foe. 

“...”

“Yeah.” Miko had to agree with Chō. The hypothetical questions didn’t matter as long as Yuuka was gone. “So, she’s stuck there forever?”

Himari only shrugged. “I found my way back, but I doubt the Devil Princess can. At worst, it’s a slight delay at least.”

“You… you!” Kindness said, beyond furious. “You won’t get away with this! She’ll be back and kick all your butts!”

“And I will, I guarantee that!” A voice said, pure terror, making Miko’s spine go rigid. Impossible. They all turned to find Yuuka standing there in her magical girl outfit. Impossible! She found a way back already?        

But there was something wrong about the Devil Princess, wronger than usual. Her usually prim haircut was free-flowing and disheveled. But it was her expression that showed true wrongness. Her face twitched, incapable of holding still. Any self-discipline and self-control had vanished, unleashing the mad beast within. What the hell had happened to her?

“You thought I couldn’t escape. But I did, I did! Searching, searching, I went, and I found. I knew I’d find it, eventually! And I did!” The Devil Princess said. “I found you!”

Miko retreated a step, taken aback by Yuuka’s incoherent ramblings. She spoke so quickly, Miko only caught a word or two. 

“This isn’t good. She must have spent eons in the upper dimensions!” Himari said. “Time flows differently there. It must have damaged her already fragile mind.”

“Yuuka, what’s wrong?” Kindness said, rushing to her partner’s side. But howled as Yuuka slashed dagger-like fingernails toward her. In her madness, she couldn’t even recognize her best friend. They all watched in shock as the fairy exploded into dust and nothingness. Impossible, she’d killed her own fairy partner.

“Death! Death to you all!” Yuuka howled. “I stole everything that gave that fairy life! I wonder whose partner it was? I hope they didn’t need their power!”

#stories #satire #story #written story #friendship #fiction #fantasy #magical girl #humor #action adventure #action #starlightdream #starlight dream #anime stories #anime #young adult #battle

[atorframehois]

The Womb chair Saarinen designed is a thing of long lasting attraction.

To begin with I assumed, oh, exactly how adorable, and then, how do you also get pleasure from it, after which, which is truly really dumb and also pointless. At any time you still don;t buy it, it will certainly embark on sale again, then will go towards a manufacturing store, then for the Goodwill, to be able to buy it to buy a dollar instead of come to feel guilty as it gave you at least one laugh before it broke. The Womb chair Saarinen been on your thoughts when he constructed it seemed to be a solid, tough piece of furniture which might be handed over away from one generation to another. My point is, there;s a lot of garbage available to obtain, and of course if you don;t buy it, it;s going to proceed on sale. This wasn;t meant to be non reusable. Probably several old fart internationally believed he knew exactly what a "nerd" was to Americans and believed up this brilliant plastic bit of crap.

I don;t like this variety of items, and quite a few individuals with some kind of flavor don;t either. I;d been intelligent, I used to be a nerd, and I also would not have a clock such as that. The Saarenenwomb sofa wasn;t any finish up dog as well as very small Japanese peacefulness garden or little basketball ring for an workspace trash can. Go ahead and take womb stool. He wanted the Saarninen Womb sofa to become a icon of all which had been homely, comfy, and also inviting with a area. Weird tiny end up dogs that have been incredibly adorable before you picked out all of them further up in addition to sensed their own Elevator Car Decoration hard plastic internal parts. "Anyone might imagine my uniqueness business office design and styles stink, you could possibly fire me leaving my loved ones destitute, however I am Getting the womb couch!

" (Place vengeful huffing and puffing the right path towards the elevator here) Ignore the magic cube, the acid cleansed ACDC reflector, the actual pot of exotic grass lawns, the japanese battling fresh fish. The Womb seat Saarinen constructed was a thing you would probably spitefully get hold of together with you as soon as you were dismissed, not grabbed off from the office within a go with of rage. And the Nerd clock. womb chair Saarinen. Its design is typical, and if you get an original, you aren;t about to dump it once you learn exactly what you have got.

We had a thing known as "Nerd Clock" which in fact had the numbers backwards or something like that, which didn;t even make sense at all to me after I was much younger. I would probably have more enjoyment with the clacking row with continuous motion balls. The Womb chair Saarinen designed is a thing of long lasting attraction. I considered nerds were allowed to be clever. My own dad useful to market stuff like it. They enjoy things which are considerable, just like the Saarinen womb chair. I believe these people were said to be extremely funny, and they were definitely with quite a few level, my dad level. Then it enters into recycling and turns into brand new trash for someone else to acquire. Office table originality things, clocks that appeared as if various things

#Custom Elevator

[wallflowerimagines]

Hi! I looove your posts! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!

I was wondering… could you maybe write about the Four Lords with a shy S/O that gets bold and defensive when someone insults the lords? or calls them names? And the Lord’s reaction to the S/O acting different? Dk if im explaining myself >.<

Again! Love your work! Have a great day!

We stan protective partners on this blog!!

Warnings: uh...insults? They're pretty over the top😅 Also swearing.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Honestly, Alcina is more than able to defend herself.

She's got a tongue like a viper, and the thickest skin imaginable. If you really want to hurt her feelings, you have to be someone whom she already respects to a certain degree, or she won't even be phased.

Still, when she leaves a room, there's always some idiot that thinks it's a smart idea to talk shit.

Maybe it's a maid, maybe it's a guest in the Castle, but either way you're not having it.

"God, you're annoying." There was a pause before they opened their mouth again, and you rolled your eyes. "No please, by all means, continue to share your lack of taste with the rest of us."

You disassemble this dumbass, starting small with comments about their personality (trying to keep it classy), but escalating the more they choose to double down on the comments.

Alcina comes back into the room to find you practically screaming at this asshole.

"Look, all you have accomplished here today is revealing that you are a fundamental disappointment on every possible level. My life is worse now that I've heard you open your mouth, you disrespectful, shit licking worm fucker."

Alcina is stunned. You do not give off "aggressive guard dog" vibes at all, yet here you are defending her tooth and nail. While she had seen brief moments of your inner strength and protective streak (mostly towards her daughters) she just...never thought you would do the same for her.

It's not because she doesn't trust you or love you! But nobody has ever done something like this for her before? Ever? She's never had anyone try to protect her--not physically, and not even verbally. She's been so independent for so long that it's... Strange to see you support her so openly.

She doesn't need you to do this for her, she doesn't even expect it, but you do it anyway for no other reason than the fact that you love her. You want people to give her the respect she deserves.

I'm going to be real here: Alcina has never been closer to swooning before in her life. You're overcoming your shyness because you believe in her so much-- it's not a gesture meant to be romantic, but Alcina can't help but see this as a massive statement of your commitment to her.

Seriously. This is such a massive thing for her that if proposals weren't already on her mind, she is mentally picking out a ring for you the minute this happens.

Then, of course, she glides into the room, kisses you until you're breathless and babbling, and smirks at the unfortunate peon who thought they could get away with insulting House Dimitrescu.

She's in such a good mood that she's considering going easy on the idiot. Maybe removing their tongue would be enough of a warning?

Donna Dimitrescu

You don't really know how it's possible but apparently some people don't like Donna Beneviento? Some people think she's scary and unpleasant????

Wild. Can't imagine what that's like.

The two of you are honestly the sweetest, most toothrottingly adorable couple-- blushing when you hold each other's hands, sneaking glances at each other across rooms, giving each other kisses and forgetting whatever was on your mind...

Honestly, anybody who's critical of your relationship with your girlfriend is just a hater. Fuckers can pound sand😤

Still, you are pretty shy, so it takes a lot for you to defend yourself if someone comments about you. It can take a lot of courage to stand up against rude remarks, and sometimes it's easier to walk away.

Defending Donna, on the other hand?

The minute someone even thinks about dismissing her, you are ready to throw hands.

"My lovely girlfriend already said no, meaning you're either deaf or too stupid to pick up on simple social cues," you purse your lips and give the rude and pushy Villager a patronizing once over. "You and your opinion are equally useless. Get the fuck away from us."

Donna blinks.

She... Was not expecting this??? At all?? You're so nice! You always tell her about your attempts to avoid confrontation! What's going on??? How did you get the guts to say what she's always wanted to say?

Meanwhile, Angie is LIVING.

The little doll chimes in to assist you with the verbal homicide, working as a tag team to absolutely murder this moron. She's half partner, half hype man, and is so excited to do this with you. Normally, she has to protect Donna all by herself, but she's relieved and reassured that you stepped in first.

'USELESS IS TOO NICE, THOUGH! THAT IMPLIES THEY AREN'T A POINTLESS, RANCID, LONELY FREAK. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY CRY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE.'

You high five Angie, still glaring daggers at the unfortunate villager.

The two of you continue to ream into the villager, while Donna hovers nearby.

As surprised as she is, she's also grateful. She's only really ever had Angie to help shield her from insults and disrespect (and occasionally inducing horrifying hallucinations that make people claw off their own skin), but having you in her corner makes her feel safe.

Not to get totally sappy, but you're like her knight in shining armor in a lot of ways. And the fact you two are so similar is really motivating-- She wants to one day be confident enough to return the favor. Until then, she's happy to watch her two favorite people have fun insulting some stranger ❤️

Salvatore Moreau

With you being so shy, Salvatore is surprised how often he takes the lead in your relationship.

He's not normally all that outgoing, but you seem to bring out a side of him that's very protective. Whenever you have a bad day he wants to bundle you up and keep you safe from the world.

If he so much as holds your hand you start stuttering and avert your gaze. It creates a feedback loop where you both get flustered, but Moreau has never felt steadier. Despite your shyness, you make sure he knows how much you love him.

You're sweet as pie and twice as kind--Salvatore is the luckiest man in the world, nobody can convince him otherwise 💕💕

So it comes as a total shock that when a passing fisherman spits in your path and calls him a freak, your entire demeanor does a 180.

Your posture straightens and you look the villager dead in the eye, "I don't believe anyone asked your opinion."

Salvatore: 😳

This is not the time, and he totally knows it, but, uh, something about your tone??? Really does it for him???

While he's attempting to process why exactly he's starting to short circuit, you proceed to verbally shred this person to bits with clinical efficiency-- nothing is off limits.

They might try to defend themselves, but it's useless. You do not let up.

"Ugly? Monster? Bitch your teeth are throwing gang signs, don't throw stones from your shining glass house."

You insult their appearance, what they're holding, their smell-- you get so fucking mean that you might even make them cry.

Moreau is just lost right now, trying hard to figure out how exactly you were able to gain all of this confidence so quickly.

He's not upset! In fact he's very flattered! But, he also doesn't want you to get into a fight with some unimportant stranger. (After all, if they so much as throw a punch, they're straight up dead. Moreau is a patient man, but he's not that patient. You do not hurt his partner and live to tell the tale.)

He may a healer but...

Eventually he steps between you and the fisherman in an attempt to deescalate the situation, but you just kiss him on the cheek and step around him, determined to make your point.

Blushing hard, Moreau lets you do what you want. What can he say? Fish man likes himself a protective partner 💞

Karl Heisenberg

Magnet Man is not the most social guy to begin with, so any opportunities you have to stick up for him are already pretty slim.

He mostly knows you as the shy, sweet, easily flustered partner that lets out a cute squeak every time he sneaks up to hug you from behind.

Karl's honestly happy just to spend time with you all alone in the Factory. It's not the best or healthiest mindset, but he'd be perfectly content to only ever see you for the rest of his life. Spending time with anybody else feels like a boring waste in comparison.

But occasionally, you do head out into town with him. Heisenberg wants you to be safe so he doesn't do it often, but running errands with you is a weakness of his. It's domestic in a way that he's never experienced before.

He likes it ❤️

What he does not like is the shopkeeper starting to give their opinions on the quality of your relationship with him.

Most insults Karl will let slide because he doesn't particularly care. However if anyone makes a comment on how scared (shy) you look around him, how you must be being threatened into being with him, how poorly Lord Heisenberg is treating you...he won't stand for it.

But before his fingers can even twitch towards his hammer, you snap.

"You're clearly the blindest cocksucker I've ever met--so wipe the cum out of eyes and mind your own fucking business."

Karl does a double take.

He's heard you curse before, but quietly. The words coming out of your mouth are WILD right now, he has NEVER seen you so angry. You're defending him with the aggression of a wild animal, and it's simultaneously HILARIOUS, but for some reason he's also getting a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest?

He doesn't need you to protect him like this, but seeing you blatantly argue how much you love and cherish him in public reassures him in a way he didn't know he needed.

Still, hearing you call the shopkeeper "shit for brains" is the funniest thing that's happened in years.

Heisenberg starts laughing, and the more you shout at the idiot, the harder he laughs. Is it weird how hard he wants to kiss you right now?

Eventually, he just has to drag you away, cackling as you continue to shout insults at the unfortunate shopkeep. There's got to be an alley around here for some good old fashioned privacy 💕

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #angie beneviento #karl heisenberg #angie the doll #swearing #insults

[wkemeup]

favorite fanfic trope: enemies to lovers but it's the moment when their tension is at its peak 😈

title: The Mess I Made - submitted by anon summary: you may not be on the best terms with Bucky Barnes, but it doesn't stop you from coming to his defense prompt: “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.” / multiple requests for enemies to lovers word count: 1.5k a/n: enemies to lovers is already tough for me and to do it in drabble form is impossible for me because it requires a slow burn, but I did my best!!

You were on your way to the tower's gym when you heard Bucky’s voice echo from the end of the hall. Towel swung over your shoulder, headphones barely even grazed your ears as you paused, turning down the music. Bucky’s shadow danced over the walls as his run his hands through his hair. A woman’s shadow emerged next to him, her heels clicking against the tiles.

You rolled your eyes. Bucky’s latest string of conquests were an inconvenience at best. His pathetic attempt to rekindle whatever version of himself he idolized from the forties in the form of cheap, meaningless hookups was just another reason you made every effort to steer clear of Barnes. His seemingly indifference towards you made easy to do so.

Steve wouldn’t let it go – his questioning of why the two of you could never get along. It wasn’t that you hated Barnes. You didn’t know him well enough to hate him. You just didn’t care for what you saw. He was guarded and cold. Condescending and arrogant. Half the time, you barely believed Steve’s stories of Bucky’s charming days in the forties. The rare moments you caught his smile, it looked forced. It barely touched his eyes and he wore a mask to bring home women who spent their nights admiring an arm he would not allow them to touch.

The rare moments you thought you saw something genuine in him, he’d lashed out. The cracks in his foundation breaking through the surface in the screams at the night of dead of night, flinching at loud noises, the easy transition to taking orders and losing himself for the briefest of moments.

You’d made the mistake once of trying to comfort him. His eyes had glazed over in the middle of a conversation. There were dozens of agents around for the annual holiday party and Bucky was in another world entirely. His pupils were dilated, his hands shaking as he closed them to fists. You never learned what triggered it, but the moment you laid a gentle hand upon his forearm, Bucky had you in a chokehold.

It took both Sam and Tony’s strength to wield Bucky away from you, all while he was practically foaming at the mouth, screaming at you to never touch him again. He was rabid as Sam and Tony struggled to hold him back. The whole party stopped to watch the scene unfold – as Bucky hurtled countless insults at you.

He was drinking Thor’s liquor. He had to have been. Half of what he said that night barely made any sense. None it worth the audacity to lay a hand upon his arm to draw him back from wherever his mind had taken him. Perhaps, if you weren’t so thoroughly humiliated, you might have considered as much.

But what he said that night stayed with you and you never let it go.

“Why don’t you stay, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice carried down the hall.

You tapped your foot impatiently at the elevators, desperate for an escape before he turned the corner. You noticed the woman’s heels were still clicking on the floors. She hadn’t stopped.

“Let me take you for breakfast, at least,” Bucky asked, a nervousness in his voice you didn’t recognize. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” The clicking ceased and you watched as the woman’s shadow placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, stilling him in an instant. “I thought you knew what this was.”

“I did. I do, but,” Bucky started, running a hand through his hair. You’d never seen him act this way before – so unsure of himself. The elevator doors open and closed as you watched his shadow sway on his heels. “I just... I want to try something different. Something... real and I thought, since we had a nice night together you might...”

“What?” the woman scoffed. “You thought I would want to date you?”

Bucky stiffened. Even his shadow appeared to mask into stone. Dread curdled in your stomach and you found yourself inching down the hall, approaching the shadows.

“Listen,” the woman crooned, “you were great last night and sleeping with the Winter Soldier is a hell of a story, but you’re not exactly... relationship material.”

You froze, stunned.

Bucky awkward cleared his throat. “I-I know, and I’m working on that. I just thought—”

“Oh my God, take the hint!” the woman exclaimed and you flinched in time with Bucky’s shadow against the wall. “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? Clearly all I wanted was a good lay. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about this clingy shit with the Winter Soldier for Christ's sake. It’s incredible how low my standards were for you.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

You rounded the corner, tossing your workout gear aside as you came face to face with the woman. She was a beautiful as the rest of them were – tall, stunning, probably one of the models you’ve seen on runways or on magazines. But her eyes were unkind, and dismissive.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she spat, shoving past your shoulder and heading to the elevator. You moved to block her when you felt the cold grasp of vibranium curl around your wrist, yanking you out of her path.

“Hey!” you yelped, watching as the woman made her escape into the elevator. You snatched your hand back, massaging at the tender muscle. “What the hell, Barnes?”

“I don’t need you coming to my rescue,” Bucky bit back. “I had it handled.”

You scoffed, the image of Bucky’s form flinching as she called him ‘pathetic’ still fresh in your mind. You’d never known him to back down from a fight. Hell, he’d gotten into a screaming match with a paparazzi for daring to ask how his morning jog went. Bucky didn’t roll over and play dead. But he let that woman wrap a hand around his throat until he choked.

“Sure looked handled,” you rolled your eyes. “She was walking all over you.”

“My sex life is not your concern,” he growled, his voice low as his eyes hooded.

“I never said a damn thing about your sex life, Barnes.” You shook your head, already regretting stepping in at all. It was pointless – foolish even – to think that he might be appreciative of your intervention, of the fact that despite the tense history between you, you would never stoop as low as that woman did.

You bent down and picked up the gym bag you’d let slip from your hands. “If you want to be treated like shit, then by all means, have fun with your next one night stand. I'll steer clear of the fallout.”

You started to head back towards the gym when you heard Bucky groan rather dramatically behind you. You paused, glancing over your shoulder as Bucky hit a fit against the wall.

“What is your—”

“You are so goddamn infuriating!” Bucky snapped and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious right now? Me? I’m the infuriating one?” You released your bag, letting the weights hit the floor as you stalked back to him. “You’re the ungrateful jerk who just yelled at the one person who bothered to stand up for you!”

Bucky gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to do that!”

He was only inches away. His breath hot against your cheeks. You could see the dark blue specs in his eyes from this close. The blacks of his eyes nearly consuming him whole.

“Maybe that’s your problem, Barnes,” you sneered. “You think you need to ask for help, that it’s earned or deserved, but it’s not! Sometimes people just want to help you, you asshole! Sometimes, people can be good and can care about you without expecting that you—”

Your back hit the wall as Bucky’s weight pressed to your chest. His lips crashed against yours, his hand slipping into your hair. Everything in him moved with purpose, with adrenaline spiked into his veins and fury in his bones – but not his hands. Even as his lips hungrily devoured yours, his hands were gentle as they caressed the nape of you neck, as they slid down your hips.

What surprised you more – was that you kissed him back. Your hand clutched into the thin fabric of his t-shirt, your lips parting for him as he brushed him tongue over yours. It was the kind of kiss that left you feel dizzy – like you’d been under for too long, your lungs aching, and still you had no desire for air.

When he finally did draw back, it was only when he was breathless. His chest panting in time with yours, his forehead dipping to rest against your collarbone. He paused for a moment, even as his fingers gently pressed into the nape of your neck as if upon keys of a piano.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Bucky confessed.

You chuckled. “I do.”

He lifted his head and you smiled when you saw his lips were pink and swollen. You brushed a hand over his cheek.

“Because even when I hated you, I still cared about you, Barnes. It’s not black and white. It’s messy and it’s grey. But I can handle a little mess, can’t you?”

Bucky swallowed, slow to the smile that crept upon his lips, but still—it came. “Yeah, I can handle messy.”

When he kissed you again, he didn’t hesitate.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #drabble night

[starshipsofstarlord]

Legs

Pairing | Brie Larson x reader

Summary | your housemate Brie wants to be left alone so that she can focus on doing yoga, however, you want her to pay attention to you.

Warnings | includes smut, tribbing, sexual tension, mouth spitting, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Situating her leg into a stretched position, Brie strained her muscles upon the yoga mat, positioning her arms in front of her, as her air pods played her playlist for these particular workouts.

Though, with her music blaring directly into her ear canal, she could not hear your footsteps streak through the hallway, as you carried the bag of groceries.

As you peeked into the living room, you licked your lips at the sight of your roommate, there was sweat straining in the dips of her muscles, and she absentmindedly licked some that was resting on the top of her lip.

Brie looked good, it had always been clear that she was fuelled by her work and career to stay in shape, but damn.

Tilting your head, your heart almost jumped out of your chest as her face turned towards you, surprised by her blatant expression that had seemingly sensed your presence all along.

Shaking your head, you left the room, going to put away the groceries, and take a cold drink of water, to cool yourself off, despite the lack of exercise that you had committed to.

As you were gulping and quenching your thirst that the sight of your roommate had brought on, you heard the kitchen door open, and in policy, you turned, watching as Brie damped her towel, and patted her forehead with it. It was as though she has forgotten that there was a bathroom just the room beside.

“It’s rude to stare y/n.” She cocked her brow at you, watching as you tensed up at her words. “If you wanted me to teach you yoga, you could have just asked.”

A smirk riddled its way onto her face, causing your breath to hitch, knowing that she was teasing you, and was getting a hell of a kick out of it.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted.” You bit your lip, feeling your veins flush with surpassed embarrassment. “I have groceries to put away though, so maybe another time.”

“Or you could join me afterwards, and I can show you the way to bend your body into the correct positions. But if not, then I suggest you don’t disturb me again, otherwise it won’t be worthwhile.”

She reached into the paper bag, pulling out an apple, biting in it, before walking away with it in her hand, leaving you once more to your lonesome.

Altogether, her exit was a relief and a displeasure. You pondered on her previous words as you grabbed each individual item, putting it where it belonged, before you concluded yourself to a great decision.

You would accompany her in the ways of bodily art, and learn how to cope with seeing so much of her skin and restraining from doing anything rash.

You hung your coat up by the front door, before going to your room to change into more flexible attire. Brie did not seem surprised in the slightest to see that you had indeed taken her up on the offer, and chosen to join her.

“What do I do?” You asked her, paying much attention to the way she splayed her strong legs far behind herself, managing to balance her weight with their self forced partition.

In attempt, you tried to shadow her movements, copying them with your own limbs, you could only imagine how awkward you looked whilst doing so.

There was no coordination within your movements, which caused Brie to incessantly roll her eyes at you.

That made you more aware of what you were doing, and thus, you tried to change the direction of your knees, causing the blonde to audibly sigh.

“Let me help you, then we might actually get somewhere.” The actress insisted, collapsing her form so that she could sit beside you, as she grasped at your hips, roughly moving them to tilt upwards.

The action on her part caused a moan of emotional surrender to pivot out your lips, and once you realised what you had just done, your eyes went wide.

However, Brie remained the same, still touching you as she stroked her marvellous hands across your waist, that was slumping under her physical pressure.

“You have great structure, if you had been silent for the last few months, maybe I’d have noticed. Perfect for doing more than yoga.”

“Are you hitting on me?” The question came out as a sonorous gasp, Brie’s hands raking down to drag over your ass, causing you to lose your balance, and flop against the floor.

If the situation was any different, you were sure that you’d feel embarrassed though right now, you were more focused on how tentative she was treating your body.

It was no secret, that when you had first decided to room within the same residence, the two of you happened to clash. At first, you had thought it to be your personalities repelling each other’s, yet after time, it became clear that the two of you easily managed to frustrate the other.

And soon it became clear that such annoyance has turned into a sexual categorisation of stress, it flowering like a budding rose, naturally consuming itself in the air with its scent, although, the affects pricked like the rope of thorns, leaving you with a false facade of resentment towards the beauty of your two’s relationship.

“Always so naive, and I think instead of bracing me with various, pointless and dumb questions, you should do as I say, and keep quiet, unless you are moaning for me. Am I understood y/n?”

Biting back a whimper, you nodded, bracing yourself on your forearms as you rolled over to be on your back, closely watching her and whatever she had in mind.

“Take that sports bra off, it’s doing nothing for your figure.” Her tone was more of a snap, her penetrating eyes scouring into you as you did as she asked, lifting the article of clothing over your head, and tossing it onto her yoga mat.

Next your leggings were told to be dismissed of, causing you to become very aware of how you ahead decided to forgo panties, having priorly thought of how you it had entered your mind that it would be easier to move into tight and confusing positions if you were bare underneath.

And in some way you had been right, considering that you were being told to strip anyways. It seemed that Brie seemed rather impressed to see your cunt uncovered.

She licked her lips, and for a moment, you thought that she was going to move forwards, and eat you. But you found yourself to be rather wrong, when she pushed you down, and straddled you.

Her head moved down, suffocating your mouth with her own. Using her tongue, she pried past your lips, enforcing you to moan within her mouth, frowning as she leant back, only to grasp the sides of your mouth, and drop a bead of spit into it.

Without any hesitation, you swallowed, hardly keeping your mouth closed as she trailed her fingertips down, only to rub circles upon your clit, making your body writhe from the stimulated sensation. “Brie- fuck.”

“Want me to show you my favourite position?” She asked endearingly, and for just a second, you were confused, thinking that the two of you had moved past the concept of yoga.

And then you realised, when she unclothed herself, leaving you in a state of admirable awe, what the position was. Brie pushed your legs to acquire her body between, turning it to the side, as she raised her cunt directly over yours.

Slowly she lowered herself, situating her pussy against yours, both of your clits evoking a wave of sincere pleasure out of you. Her leg went over the top of your thigh, planting it on the ground beside, rutting her hips to blend your juices in a sweet matrimony.

“I always knew you’d feel this good.” Brie huffed, placing her hands upon both of your tits, one on each, to aid herself with leverage for her movements.

A slight sound could be heard, induced by the pressing of your cunts, as she rode your cunts, your lips spread open by her own. It coaxed noises of complete euphoria out of you, as you tugged on your own hair, almost pulling a few strands out.

“Holy shit Brie, so fuckin’ good. Mmm.” A light scream stumbled out of your moth afterwards, being a say all to you being close to reaching your peak.

“Be a good girl and cum. Cum you annoying bitch.” She squeezed your breasts harsher, bringing you somewhat pain, as you fell over the edge. “Good girl baby, so wet.”

She ground harder, until she too released upon your pussy, giving a couple more fluid motions until she moved off of you, pulling her juicy cunt away from your own, and rolling beside you, going to tug her clothes on. “We may have to practice yoga together more often.”

“Yeah.” You muttered, finally upholding your tight grasp upon your hair. It was a definite consumption to satisfy your frustration with her again, after all, you were roommates, and that meant plenty of opportunities.

#brie larson smut #brie larson imagine #brie larson x reader #Brie x reader #Brie smut #gxg imagine #gxg smut #imagines #imagine #xreader #marvel x y/n #marvel imagines #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel cast fanfiction #marvel cast smut #marvel smut #marvel cast x reader #marvel fanfiction #captain marvel smut #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x reader #carol smut #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x you #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel x female reader #captain marvel x you

[theitcharchives]

I think gatekeeping is one very serious issue in the queer community and so I wholeheartedly support the idea that we should just say queer community when referring to anyone that exits the “norm” in any quantity and quality rather that use acronyms. Queer is "deviation from the norm". The norm is heteronormativity, amatonormativity, allonormativity and gender binarism–aka "man and woman are exclusively attracted to each other, need to have sex otherwise they die and of course they romantically love each other because they're not plants, and whatever's between your legs dictates your entire behaviour and role and path in life".

I'm not saying "drop every label". Labels are cool. Labels make it easier to find people as kindred with you as possible and it's all very nice.

Listen. There's only one criterion one needs to determine if they're queer: if the answer to the question "would the bigots and conservatives think you're a defective human for reasons related to attraction and/or gender?" (not taking into account misogynist and misandrist rhetoric) is yes, congrats, you're queer.

I'm queer. This is absolutely my favorite identity above any other. According to the phobes, me and my queer brethren, be it more or less specifically so, will sow discord and ruin and reap the downfall of humanity. I know this because I've been told so, in many different ways. I've gotten insults and threats and been silenced and put aside. My whole life I've been the queer one out.

The world is on fire. And you might die tomorrow by stepping on your shoelaces and hitting the ground wrong. And more importantly, humanity is a spectrum. There are no two people who could match down to the tiniest microlabel that do live them the same way. So arguing and gatekeeping about who is disastrous enough to be insulted by the bigots makes you a bigot. Yes bigot is usually used to refer to religion bigots but the actual definition is "a person who is obstinately or unreasonably attached to a belief, opinion, or faction, especially one who is prejudiced against or antagonistic towards a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular group". Which sheds interesting lights on that one previous question.

People live their lives however they can. You know nothing about them 99.9% of the time except for the fact that normative society hurts them in some way and they managed to tell about it. It doesn't need to be murder, life can turn miserable in many ways–it's not like tribunals tell victims of thievery or scamming to fuck off because "but are you getting murdered?" The fuck do you know? There’s some crazy people out there that can decide your existence personally slights theirs, no matter how, and they just have to hurt you over it. When you flat-out dismiss any and all possibilities in a world full of variables, you’re just being blind. And you sound like those people who brush off your suffering because "someone has it worse, suck it up".

Don't be ridiculous.

The point of this is–stop wasting your time and hurting others by gatekeeping because it’s pointless. The only thing you’re entitled to know and consider before going on with your life is that someone is queer and deserves recognition of it.

Everything is a spectrum. Everything is a combination of gray areas in nature. Society tries to paint things in absolutes because it's easier to oppress as many people as possible that way. "Proper" becomes a more and more and more and more restricted little group and soon enough you won't fit either. Soon enough that little group will shrink so much that you'll realize that oh, actually, it's always smaller things that occasionally overlap in some points and build nets of a community that is diverse and wider than you think. You have more allies and potential friends than you think because what you think is a speck of what is really out there.

So don't be ridiculous. Love thy spectrums. Queer is the way.

#queer before acronyms #queer pride #anti gatekeeping

[janaem]

tension

this is a mature scenario

requests are also open, go to my pinned post to learn more :)

(c/f) ;; crush’s friend

(y/f) - your friend

r/n - restaurant name

“___”- you or your crush’s name

[8:00 pm]

you looked out the open window feeling the breeze on your face. you closed your eyes and laughed at the ticklish feeling as you tilted your head back.

your friend, ___, was the one behind the wheel, chatting with your crush's friend, ___. the four of you decided to escape from reality for a while and just aimlessly drive around for a while. what a calming way to spend a summer night, you've longed to go on adventures like this. and the music in the background was absolutely perfect.

"i'm hungry." your crush said slightly slouching in his seat which was next to yours, his legs spread a bit. it was kind of awkward being in the backseat with him, considering the fact that the two of you only exchanged one short conversation.

you and your friend ___, were originally going to hang out together, but since they grew more fond of your crush's friend, they insisted on picking the two of them up.

"let's go somewhere that has a drive thru." you said closing the car window.

"oh, i was told that i can't eat food in this car." you friend replied looking around for places to eat.

"wait, why?" c/f asked, sitting up in their seat.

y/f sighed, keeping their eye out for any nearby places, "this is a new car, just got this two days ago."

c/f nodded, "so...do we just dine in?"

"or we could order pick up and eat outside the car by the lake or something." you imputed googling some restaurants near you.

"yeah, that's a good idea." ___ said turning his head to look right at you. it shouldn't be a surprise, but you felt your body slightly tense up and start to feel warm as you scrolled through the various options on your screen.

a few places caught your eye, and you started listing them.

"oooh i think that r/n is a perfect spot to get pick up!" c/f announced.

y/f nodded, "yeah, ___, what do you think?" they asked looking at the two of you in the back seat through the rearview mirror.

you absently nodded, scrolling through social media, your crush said yes.

"you two have been awfully quiet" c/f pointed out turning their body halfway to look at the two of you in the back seat.

"they're heavy on the sexual tension." y/f added making the frat boy face.

"bro..." your crush sighed in annoyance. you looked over at him, he immediately caught your gaze and you instantly looked away, pretending to scroll on your phone.

"guys, if you like each other just say that. It's so obvious." y/f suggested turning the corner, you were 2 minutes away from your destination, since it was a place pretty close by.

"we have more important things to worry about, like our orders for the food." you shot back looking up from your phone.

"and what we'll be having for dessert, isn't that right, ___?" c/f glanced at ___, them a wink.

"dude, shut up." ___ said dismissively, you felt your body become tense again. you looked over at ___, as he rested his elbow by the window, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand. you only squeezed your legs tighter, why the fuck did they look so fine being careless? you looked at his legs, you honestly just wanted to sit on his lap and make out with him without a care in the world.

the throbbing down there suddenly caught you off guard, "can you guys stop, seriously. we don't like each other, it was just sudden that y/f decided to pick you two up. let it go." you sighed shifting uncomfortably in your seat, crossing your legs together. ___ saw this and raised their eyebrows. however, you refused to look at him again for the rest of the ride.

"shut your horny ass up, we know that's not true." c/f teased turning back around to face straight ahead. you just wanted to beat the shit out of this motherfucker with no mercy.

"we'll order inside, it's late and the line shouldn't be long at all." y/f sighed, ignoring the previous conversation that just took place.

"but, that doesn't make sense, we'll have to wait even longer for the food now." ____ imputed.

you adjusted yourself in your seat, taking a breath, "not if we call them now."

"we have one more minute until we arrive, it's pointless." y/f replied looking at the gps.

"that's plenty of time, just tell me what you guys want, and if we arrive sooner than expected, we can just park and finish our order." you said dialing in the number.

everyone else agreed, so you called r/n and told them your orders. you arrived just in time once you finished and hung up.

"see told ya." you smirked putting your phone down.

"c/f and i will go in to pick up the orders." y/f said unbuckling their seatbelt along with c/f.

"uhh...can i come?" __ asked sitting up a bit, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"no, you stay here with ___." c/f replied opening the car door and steeping, causing him to huff under his breath.

"they said it'll take 15 minutes. why can't y'all stay here until it's ready?" you argued furrowing your eyebrows.

"i don't know why you're complaining, you get some alone time with your boyfriend." y/f smiled as they exited the car, and before you could say anything else the door slammed shut.

the silence was way to loud in the backseat of the car, you held your phone firmly in your hands, fighting the urge to look at ___, who was on his phone. what were you thinking? he's not even thinking about you right now, so why bother...

you finally decided to break the silence after a while, "you know, you don't have to listen to c/f and y/f... you can just go in if you want to." you immediately regretted saying that, you hoped deep down that he wouldn't leave you.

"nah, i'm fine right here." ___ replied, scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

you nodded and went on your phone as well, texting someone to save the awkwardness.

suddenly, ___ scoots next to you, still looking down at his phone. you furrowed your eyebrows at the move. why was he doing this?

"Uhh..." you leaned towards the window, your heart started to race uncontrollably and the adrenaline in your body started to rise.

___ sighed, getting comfortable, "shut up, i got cold."

you gave him a skeptical look, "it's literally seventy nine degrees out, and you're wearing a hoodie and sweatpants."

"just shut up, okay?" ___ sighed, he was seated at least an inch away from you.

"you're so fucking weird." you muttered.

"i'll show you weird if you don't shut the fuck up and sit still."

this moment was making you heated, your face started to get hot and you ached with anticipation to either say something rude, or bold. maybe say both? you honestly didn't know what to do, and the throbbing down on your core started to intensify and it only made matters worse.

"and how the hell are you gonna do that, ___? right i though so, so move back to your fucking seat or i'll make you."

yeah, you shouldn't have said that.

"fuck." you whispered to yourself, your gaze on ___ softened due to realizing what you've just done.

"oh yeah?" ___ gave you a lazy smirk, slightly tilting his head back to show a bit of his adam's apple.

you didn't say anything after that, that was until you felt ___ knee on yours. that was when your stomach clenched.

"how are you gonna make me move acting like this, huh?" he scooted closer so that both of your shoulders were touching. you still remained silent, watching closely as ___'s hand reached down, gripped your thigh, and moved it on top of his leg. the throbbing intensified, you became even hotter than ever, and your heart raced at an astronomical pace. you don't think you were able to handle it any longer. one more move from him and you were sure to break.

he leaned over, his face inches from yours, "not so tough now, are we?"

fuck it.

you cupped ___'s face with both of your hands and collided your lips onto his. he leaned in so that he was slightly on top of you, causing you to lean back, the seatbelt restricting you to go any further. luckily, while kissing you, ___ reached back and undid the buckle with his one hand.

you were now able to lean back, your head rested on the window, allowing ___ to settle between your legs. your back arched at the feeling of his hand trailing up your thigh, his thumb brushing over your clit. his other hand, trailed up under your sweatshirt, squeezing your waist.

you both parted, ___ looked into your eyes, "is this okay?" he continued to faintly rub his thumb faintly over your sensitive area.

"yeah..." you panted ,leaning in and kissing him again. the feeling of his hands on your bare skin, and his other hand on the very spot you've always wanted him was overwhelming.

___ slid his hand into your pants, using his middle finger to slide up and down to toy with your covered area. your breathing started to get heavier as you bucked your hips to meet his finger.

"does this feel good?" ___ asked placing a kiss on your jaw.

you were melting under his touch, "yeah..." you quivered, suddenly hissing once you felt ___ add a few more fingers and rubbing circles on your clit. his other hand, which was originally on your waist, slowly snaked up to fondle your breast.

"___...oh my--" you let out a gasp feeling him go a bit faster. the wetness started to build up on your core, a shockwave of pleasure erupts within you.

you two went at it again with the kissing, ___ slipped his tongue into your mouth, resulting in the kiss to become sloppier than before. ___ also took the opportunity to pull your underwear down, proceeding the act of rubbing your core. he let out a small hum in ecstasy, feeling how warm you were.

"fuck, you drive me crazy, ___" he groaned in between kisses, "you're so wet, too"

you simply couldn't talk, the feeling in your stomach built up every few seconds. you parted from ___ to let out a whimper, biting your lip and rolling your eyes back. you arched again at the feeling of his hand toying with your breast. unfortunately, he stopped and placed his hand from your breast to your back. ___ then started to place kisses on your jaw and neck, you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling every inch of him touching you, you didn't want him to stop no matter what.

___ stopped kissing you after a while, and took a good look at you. he couldn't take his eyes off of you beautiful expression. he didn't think he would make you feel this way, and it filled him with pride that he is. he looked from your parted lips, to your heaving chest. just looking at you drove him to the edge, he'll never know how and why you were so breathtaking, especially in this state.

your eyes opened slightly, seeing that ___ was staring at you, a series of moans and whimpers continued to come out of you.

you started to squirm, and he liked that. so he went faster, assuming that you were about to reach your high.

"you like that, huh?" he whispered against your lips as he continued to rub his fingers on your clit. the overwhelming feeling that sent shockwaves through your core began to build up more and more the harder and faster he rubbed.

"oh my god..." you sighed, rolling your eyes back in relief. your back arched feeling the sudden wave of pleasure, which was stronger than the last. it was all so unexplainable, all you knew is that you felt so good.

___ placed a slow kiss on your lips, pulling away once you let out another moan. he chuckled and went faster. and the faster he went, the more frequent your whimpers became. you never really admitted it, but you enjoyed the build up before a good orgasm. and it would seem that___ knew just how to maintain this feeling inside you. it was almost hard to believe that this was his first time touching you.

___ moved his hand from your back, to the window to support himself, leaning into you more. all you could do was pant, feeling your abdominal muscles clench, the feeling of pleasure was even greater, allowing your mouth to fall open.

___'s hand started to flex, "you gonna cum for me?" he said going faster than before, "yeah?" he gripped your waist even tighter, watching your expression intensely. ___ wanted to make sure that you felt everything.

"oh fuck, yes." you moaned, looking up at the ceiling. all you were focused on, were ___'s fingers and the intense release you were having.

"you look so hot cuming for me." ___ said, your foreheads were inches away.

you couldn't respond, the orgasm you just had had taken it's toll on you. your legs shook a bit as you rode out your last high. small sighs and pants escaped your lips, the very same lips that your crush leaned over and placed a kiss on.

you kissed back and your crush pulls your bottoms back up, the feeling of the fabric touching your sensitive area made you squirm a bit.

"i made you cum that hard?" ___ teased, giving you a smirk.

"yeah ..." you said slyly, wrapping your arms around his neck. you tangled your fingers into his hair, taking in how beautiful his eyes were. your infatuation for each other grew just then, and the two of you leaned in and kissed each other again.

suddenly, the car door opened and in entered your two chatty friends. they were so caught up in their conversation that both you and ___ took this time to immediately get situated again.___ slid all the way back to his original spot as you got out your phone and started typing and scrolling.

"damn, it's hot in here..." y/f said starting the car again and turning on the air conditioning.

"Yeah," c/f looked suspiciously at you and ___, "y'all fucked or sum?"

"i'd rather die." you said bluntly, not looking up from your phone. ___ just let out an indifferent grunt.

"well, anyways, to the lake we go! i'm starving." y/f announced reversing out of the parking lot.

#crush x reader #crush imagines #crush scenarios #boy x girl #mature #crush series

[asset35-maya]

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

//

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

//

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

//

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

//

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

//

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

//

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

//

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

//

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

//

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

//

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

//

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

//

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing