#I talked a shitton this time around
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Ok but am I about to Rant?
...You know what? Fuck it.
Why not, I'm gonna end the year talking about something nobody really cares but I certainly do for whatever reason: Dragon Ball Super, babyyyyyy.
Specifically the Granolah Arc.
(In advance, thank you for reading.)
Genuinely, I have like a lot to criticize about it but for those who need a refresh or have no idea what I'm about to say but still wanna read my thoughts anyways lemme do a quick summary for you.
The story continues from the resolution of the prior arc, as a power copying enemy known as Seventhree is salvaged by it's creator. Before this guy could do anything though, the titular Granolah trounces and steals the Android.
We find out he's the last of his race, and had his planet wiped out by Saiyans working under Frieza back then. He's serving a faction known as the Heeters, they sell planets but work under intel over force, now holding their own monopoly after Frieza's first death.
Keyword: FIRST. Now that he's back, they are in trouble and tell as much to Granolah, whose trauma kicks in and wants nothing but vengeance, but of course, he's too weak. Though the Heeters start to carefully plot around this development thanks to SevenThree's memory helping them get caught up with last arc's development and our heroes.
Granolah returns to his planet and the topic comes out with his caretaker, a namekian elder. Reminded of their set of 2 Dragon Balls and with the finding of the missing one, Granolah wishes to become the strongest (At a cost) and demands to see Frieza.
The Heeters, of course, tell him to stay put and set in motion their plan: Get rid of Granolah before he destroys the empire they wanna overtale by tricking Goku and Vegeta into coming, while they wish their toughest member, Gas, to be THE strongest to then kill Frieza.
After a long brawl between our heroes trying to talk Granolah down, the elder is forced to reveal some truths: A Saiyan (Bardock) saved them and the Heeters killed his mom actually, he couldn't reveal it prior as Granolah was put to work with them in exchange for their safety.
Thus, Gas turns into the strongest and faces the now teamed up trio who are vastly outmatched as he continues to grow, little by little wearing him down until Frieza's surprising arrival, who wipes out Gas in one clean sweep and leaves Goku and Vegeta with the bitter feeling of being left behind powerwise.
With Granolah now giving up on his vengeance, Goku finding out more about his father and adapting Ultra Instinct in his own way, and Vegeta fueling his newfound Ultra Ego form with his feelings on the Saiyan's past, the gang says their goodbyes and set off.
People with familiarity on the arc will notice me describing the entire second half of it in three paragraphs. And this is for sure not a mistake: This IS the relevant information of that section. So you know, we'll be here for a while when I get there. :)
So like, was the arc bad from the start?
No. Much like the grand majority of DBS, I think it's got one of, if not the most promising start so far, because as it stands, the arc set in motion a very character centric narrative over something with a bigger plot in motion. This is actually the most enjoyable part of it which we hardly get in this series at all, so it feels fucking good when people come to blows because we have so much baggage on each side the clash gets hype, much like how DBS: Broly toyed with (Or you know, how Battle Shonen that go hard do it).
Granolah is an interesting character, despite having his arc rushed at the very end and with some missed out chances. Already having seen a similar concept with Baby from GT, we know the idea of a surviving race member of a wipeout from the Saiyans writes itself. Not to mention his unique aspects such as his trauma or his combat quirks help him stand out beyond the cool design. He's also integrated into the world with as much grace as the new group, the Heeters, who serve as our "people to punch" this arc.
From the duo of Maki and Oil proving to be a little more comedic than threatening but still effective, and the cunning Elec being modestly entertaining, they don't feel out of place in the world of DB. Gas in particular I'm going to put off for now, but know that his interactions with Elec is what make the latter vastly more unique in terms of narrative role. Commander Red comes to mind but if he was played entirely straight. I think they serve the narrative pretty damn fine without the need to go beyond as characters, Gas nonwithstanding.
When it comes to Goku and Vegeta's role in the story, the latter gets the most out of it. His training with Beerus, his theraphy session with Granolah, his showcase of the Ultra Ego to an extent and him getting to interact with the Saiyan's past in a fresh way. They have never fucking fumbled Vegeta since the "doing the same thing as before but worse" allegations from prior arcs, which is a strong positive for his fans, but yeah, he doesn't get any Ws lmao.
With Goku, we have... Things happening for sure, of varying qualities, but the praises are getting short on that end, so I'm going to save it for later. On paper, I do appreciate the attempt to do more with this character and he still is not the weakest part of the character centric narrative.
In general, the central core of said narrative is one of the more interesting and cool so far. It makes the entire portion of the fight against Granolah all the better, not to mention that section having bouts of good coreography and action. I love having an enemy worth punching in a series where punching people happens so much they can be souless bricks to punch, especially if the bricks aren't interesting unlike, say, Frieza.
Speaking of, he turned out the be the funniest, most shocking element in this arc. Like not even as a joke, his presence is a legit highlight from the sheer absurdity of his impact. He barely gets foreshadowed at the first half, with the asumption it's the character who is most commonly tied to everybody what makes you think of him at all times, and isn't even used until the very last minute. But when he DOES show up, he ONE SHOTS GAS, VEGETA AND GOKU, claims to have been OUT OF RANGE for the "make me the strongest" wish to account for him, found a HYPERBOLIC TIME CHAMBER in space and proceedes to brag that he knew what's up and that got a brand new form only to LEAVE.
It's truly a chaotic shock to the system which matches the ridicolousness of Dragon Ball Heroes whipping out a new Broly out of nowhere every anniversary or so, but in an oddly positive way. Like you could've done more with the concept but honestly I can't truly be mad with the sheer boldness in display. But that's because... Well...
So like, is the second half bad or what?
I can certainly say the ending woke me up. But it's kinda fucked up how once Granolah stopped being the opponent everything else kinda crumbles into fighting a boring nothing character with no connection to the heroes and progression being constantly halted JUST so we can attempt to give this opponent some fluff.
Let's be fair: Gas holds his own with Granolah padding and brick personality aside, there is some setup to their rivalry and the backstory works, albeit motion is wasted to highlight aspects that only come out now instead of beforehand: The fact that he was envious, the stubborn devotion to his own techniques, Granolah feeling anything beyond towards him, etc. Still works fine, still patched up now.
There's also his relationship with Elec as a highlight, the former manipulating him and hyping him up in spite of Gas doubting himself, showing devotion and loyalty back to Elec and even being grateful he made him strong as he is, which is kinda tragic once he realizes what he becomes.
But I can't fucking caaaaare.
I believe the core problem with Gas is that they waited too fucking long to start showing his development and choosing the very distracting battle that HALTS ALL PROGRESSION to try and do something with him.
This is also after the big break which was the Bardock flashback, we'll get to that, but since the goal became his defeat and he has no one to bounce from naturally, the second Goku steps up as the main opponent (After the fight has had MANY twists and he powered up several times) everything resets completely harder than when each form turned the tides. Because Goku still had no internal change, he doesn't remember Bardock yet, and the story didn't think of bringing Gas along to recruit Goku and Vegeta and build THEIR personal rivalry outside of Bardock's impact on Gas after defeating him so it feels limp without the connective tissue.
So what we have is a scene which deadass could've played like this:
Their goal is to kill Frieza. They did not want to waste time. They literally just believed they killed Granolah and incapacitated both Goku and Vegeta. What are they gonna fucking do? Defend Frieza? They don't fucking care if he dies again, maybe they wanna fight them, but it would provide a fucking change of scenery which hasn't happened since the start of all the fighting. Gas too, like, sure, he would want to kill them for knowing too much but at this point NO ONE is a threat.
As a result the jawdropping moment of Ultra Ego and Ultra Instinct together feels wasted on a very lame opponent. The revelation Goku has to use Ultra Instinct his own way is just kinda there because Gas is the least important part of said development. The epic struggle to take him down feels done already.
It's tiring. Really tiring. No matter how fancy the techniques, the core character is being built as we speak in a narrative that SOLELY focused on characters on the last minute. And I can't care as a result.
Speaking of breaking progression and being tiring, we also need to talk about a little something.
This is another joke page, dw.
But uh, anyone feels like the first flashback would've been enough? Technically, they could skim on HOW Bardock defeated Gas interrupting an already glacial paced conflict, especially not without any substantial information to the characters, Goku's development aside.
Bardock doesn't feel entirely realized either. I appreciate the fact they are trying to bridge the gap between Minus and Z Bardock to make it look like it's mostly the same character but it's not until he's fighting where this seems to be at play.
He feels like he's on autopilot on his own plot thread. There's feeling his actions are arbitrary (To the point of needing a flashback within one for justification) as him being conveniently set up to be there, rather than let his character flow naturally. His impact is felt across the characters but "just so happens to be there" is not the card they play. This isn't a rando — Nonono, this is Goku's Dad™, therefore he MUST be important... Which goes against the core idea of making Minus Bardock and Z Bardock the same character, but topic for another time.
Point is: When the story could've chosen to use the Saiyans as a positive influence (A loaded statement but yet another topic for some other time), they really chose to tell this story in a rather clunky way, contradicting the core idea of a typical Saiyan without exploring Bardock's uniqueness regarding it (If he has it) when we need it to buy into it. We're coming off from the character from Minus, you HAVE to expand on it because that one had ALSO next to nothing going for him.
So yeah, I may be beating this aspect way too much but in hindsight, if the story decided it should be focused heavily for breaks between fight while also having a half that is meandering just to trigger Goku's memories, then maybe they should've thought about it a little more when telling this story.
Which leads us to perhaps the biggest weakness of writing for DB: Getting Goku involved in the plot without him feeling less like a problem solving plot device they are forced to keep out the action. He's active, sure, but he has no connection to anybody, so what do?
His arc this time around is Ultra Instinct being a technique Goku needs to improve on despite everyone in the fandom swearing that the one we were calling MASTERED Ultra Instinct for years wasn't really it. As such, he has to find a path to use it on his own, which obviously means "dodge on your base form" but there's more to it: He has to learn and stop mimicking Whis when doing so.
The solution is simple and it works in every aspect but to make UI less impactful, but asuming we saw that coming and we don't mind, this leaves Goku accepting his emotions instead of repressing them while using UI, thus getting the most out of the Sign form.
...And it's kinda disconnected to everything? They tacked in Bardock's sole focus on his drive to win as a catalyst which is why they used the second flashback, and that kinda gets a little lost when this still doesn't tie him to Gas and with how little that statement says on it's own. "He has the same determined look" doesn't work and the Sign reveal loses a lot of impact, so what we're left is with what feels like a very random power up.
This scene of Goku recovering his memories is used as a superficial aspect as a result, because the memories themselves don't make for anything beyond one disconnected touching moment. It's even lacking impact on Goku as a character because he sure knows the thing which never mattered to his core identity at all save for being a fighting freak, it would be nice if this was important as it wants to be. But that's it. Him being positively in touch with his Saiyan side internally has always been a thing, he's supposed to be the opposite of the stereotypical one, so yeah, sure. It's not awfully offensive but it sure feels wasted.
Wait, that's it? Those are your takes?
Listen, you probably expected me to go off over the new set of DBs making the story lame with how anyone can wish for strength or what I think about the new forms and how I think they are either ugly or cool, but like, I feel there was a bigger urge to talk about the core narrative problems and less about the window dressing of the action. The balls have always been in a downward spiral to becoming too convenient already, and forms as punctuations for progression is like, tiring but it works visually, it's not a specific problem to the arc but the series as a whole.
Overral, I just feel uneven about it. The character driven conflict is obviously gonna leave you with a lot of holes if you don't keep it PERSONAL so the failure to do something so cool with DB hurts a lot. Undeniably though it's first half was the best part of this entire Manga on setup alone.
The second half is an atrocity however that makes me call the arc trash without the hesitation that I should be having. The fighting? Drags on with a nothing opponent. The opponent? Boring us to death as momentum has to stop to develop them. The developments? Tied to Bardock between breaks in a couple of flashbacks, used sloppily with a protagonist that feels uneven. Our actual protagonist? Hardly there.
Frieza coming back to end the arc feels cathartic on top of hilarious as a result. It's a spit to the face to the whole of it. And it's not horrendous as the Future Trunks Arc's ending thanks to at least having promises for the upcoming stories and ultimately being more interesting too.
o(-(
I don't know. This especially sucks because we were going so hard on something amazing like always but DBS just has a mystifying way to fuck things up for literally no reason. But you've heard me ramble enough. I still enjoy the series for that alone: I can't stop peeking no matter if it's a trainwreck with thousand dead. It's easy to pick apart the pieces.
Thank you for reading this if you did. I really appreciate it.
Take care! <3
#dragon ball super#dbsuper#dbs manga#review#granolah arc#bardock#gas#dbs vegeta#dbs goku#I talked a shitton this time around#thanks for reading#i will shut up now
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why DO you think colress hates ghetsis? because he never gives a reason why in the games and it's always been a mystery ive been struggling to answer because i rotate colress in my head all the time and i have SO many thoughts about him but im unsure as to mine and i want to see what the consensus is among fellow colress likers like yourself.
HONESTLY? while i feel like ur probably expecting a big long deep intricate backstory reason (which is totally fair if anyone else has that + i love reading them so i hope u asked this to a bunch of others LMAO) i really just. feel like colress just thinks ghetsis is a completely insufferable lumbering huffy old fucking ox of a man that isn't worth as far as you can throw him just from looking at and dealing with him LMAO. i have other angsty backstory ideas for pokemon bitches but the funniest option in my mind is that colress just can't stand him on a base level and finds it funny to shittalk him behind his back while also taking his funing and that's as deep as it goes. colress toxic moments but we stan
#askbox#my hcs#pokemon b2w2#pokemon#colress#ghetsis#THANK YOU for the ask#colress when he sees this old ass man stomping around smacking people with his cane slowly going insane and threatening everyone in earshot#being the worst dad ever and then getting his ass kicked by a bunch of 14 year olds#and just naturally deciding “oh i can't fucking stand him. god he's insufferable look at him. dreadful. Who put him on the planet”#but he sticks around because he wants to do a science and ghetsis pays him a shitton of money to stay on the ship and give him some of it#that is the most natural in my mind i can't think of it any other way#fucked up <3 love these thangs#i will talk forever about these bitches but thats for another time
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f**k you.
ellie williams x afab!reader
warnings: hate sex, ellie’s rude as shit in the first half, alcohol use, some name-calling, aggressive kissing, fingering, scissoring, brat taming, spanking, edging/overstim… i think thats it
a/n: kinktober’s here! ik im a few hours late guys im sorry. but hopefully this juicyness makes up for it !! wc 3.4k
Ellie couldn’t stand you.
She found you so incredibly annoying, and yet you shared the same friends. Which was the biggest problem, ever.
She never failed to make sure to let you know what she thought of you.
“Hey, idiot. We’re trying to have a conversation. Shut it for once, yeah?”
And you made sure to let her know that the feeling was mutual.
“Suck my dick, Williams.”
And like clockwork, she’d say something along the lines of “Sorry babe. Not into that.”
Truthfully, the two of you had been doing this for a while. This was nothing new. You’d go at eachother back and forth until one of you gets genuinely pissed off. Rinse. Repeat.
Dina hated it because she loves the two of you; she just can’t handle being in a room with both of you at once. Jesse would find it amusing until you and Ellie wouldn’t shut up during a movie.
It didn’t matter what you said or did. Ellie would either laugh, mock, or straight up disagree with you. Even if you stayed quiet and said nothing at all.
“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”
She’d wait for your response, and when you didn’t have one, she’d keep going.
“No seriously. You look like dogshit.”
“Ellie please shut the fuck up.”
It was like she couldn’t ignore you. As if your presence was so incredibly overwhelming, that she just had to react to everything you did. You didn’t get it.
If you met up with the friend group to eat, Ellie somehow “forgot” to get you something. She’d make plans and purposely exclude you. And if you brought it up, she’d tell you to “chill the fuck out, it’s not that serious.”
You hated Ellie. And yet here you were, six feet across from her, sitting on the rug of her living room floor. Dina had insisted on a friendly get-together at Ellie’s, specifically requesting that “you don’t kill eachother.” You told her you’d try, but made no promises.
“Hey, Jesse.” Ellie said. “Could you grab me and Dina another beer?”
“Ellie,” Dina says. “You didn’t even ask if Y/N wanted one.”
“So?” She replies. “She’s a big girl. If she wants another she can get it herself.”
You rolled your eyes. She always did this — talked about you as if you were the dumbest person to ever exist.
“I’m right here, Ellie.” You snap. “I can hear you.”
“I know.” Ellie says. “That’s why I said it.”
“Guys, please.” Dina groans. “Just one night. One good night is all I ask.”
Jesse brings over more bottles. He cracks one open before handing it to you. Ellie stares at you, waiting for Jesse to hand out the rest before speaking.
“It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at her fuckin’ face all night.”
You scoffed. “You know, you’re really cocky for someone who lives in a fucking garage.”
“You’re lucky I even let your ass in this garage.” Ellie mutters. “Probably tracked in a shitton of dirt.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You ask abruptly.
Dina rubs her temples. “Guys—“
“You that stupid?” She questions. “It means I’m gonna have to sweep once you leave. Don’t want your germs gettin’ on my shit.”
“Fuck this. Nope. Not doing this.” Dina says, getting up from the floor. She whips around to face you and Ellie.
“I have tried to ignore the two of you in hopes of having a good time. I have begged you to get along for once. But clearly, none of it’s fucking working!” She throws her hands up. “I’m done. Seriously — come on, Jesse, we’re leaving.”
Jesse thinks for a moment, then shrugs. He begins walking towards the door with his beer in hand.
“Wait, what?” Ellie asks.
“You guys are gonna sit here and sort this shit out.” She says, throwing on her coat. “Until then, me and Jesse are going somewhere else.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Dina—“
“Don’t wanna hear it.” She states as Jesse opens the door for her. “The two of you are smart, figure it out. You can come find us when you’re done.”
“See you,” Is all Jesse says, before pulling the door shut.
You and Ellie look straight ahead.
What the fuck.
Heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t know what to do. Dina was obviously pissed, but being left alone with Ellie was the last thing you wanted.
It’s as if she could read your mind.
“Get out.”
You raise your brows. “Excuse me?”
“They left because you don’t know when to shut your mouth,” She says. “And I don’t wanna keep hearing it, so get out.”
Your previous desire to get up and walk out of the door suddenly disappears. You set your drink down.
“No.”
“What?”
“You don’t like me? Great.” You say, kicking your feet back. “I don’t like you either. But I’m not gonna do what you say, when you say it, every single fucking time.”
“Wow.” She takes a sip of beer. “You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes.”
Your eyes flash over to the brunette in less than a second. But she doesn’t budge. Just leans into the couch, legs spread.
“Ellie—“ You begin. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”
She smirks as if you said something funny.
“I’m serious. What the fuck is it?” You repeat, staring intently.
“Are you that dense?” She meets your gaze. “Your attitude. If you couldn’t tell, you have a serious attitude problem. Should really get it checked out.”
It was your turn to laugh. “Like you don’t have an attitude problem.”
“Yeah, but that’s me.”
“Oh,” You nod sarcastically. “Okay. Sure, yeah. Because that makes sense.”
“See? Again with the attitude.”
Silence fills the room as you bite your tongue. The fact that you felt the impulse to respond immediately kind of proved Ellie’s point.
It pissed you off that she was right. You did have a bit of an attitude problem with her. In your defense, she never leaves you alone. You get along just fine with everyone else.
You had given up. You were ready to just go home and tell Dina the truth later. But as you stand up, out of absolutely nowhere, Ellie says:
“It sucks, ‘cause you’re hot. It’s a shame you’ve gotta act like such a fuckin’ brat.”
Were your ears deceiving you? Did Ellie fucking Williams just say that?
You laugh it off and shake your head. “You are truly something else.”
“I’m being serious.” She replies. “You could just sit there and look pretty. Don’t know why you choose to be so damn annoying instead.”
“It would be so nice if you just learned when to shut up, Ellie.”
“You gonna make me?” She says, watching you. You sigh dramatically.
“Didn’t think so.”
The way she was toying with you made your skin run hot. You weren’t sure if she really meant what she said, or if she was just trying to get a rise out of you. Either way, her sweatpants and sports bra combo wasn’t helping; you could feel yourself getting worked up.
“What are you getting at?” You blurt out. “What are you trying to do?”
“I’m not trying to do anything,” She murmurs, looking down then back up again. “Are you?”
You laugh harshly. “What the hell makes you think that?”
“You’re an attention whore,” She answers. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”
The way ‘whore’ rolled off of her tongue was so incredibly casual. And yet, you enjoyed the fact that she was saying it to you. Pigs must be flying. There was no way this was happening.
“I’m not a whore,” You stated.
“Oh?” She says coyly. “I didn’t call you a whore, I called you an attention whore. But you were quick to argue, so now I’m curious.”
You shift your weight to one leg. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Ellie.”
“Yeah? Then why are you still here?”
You felt your neck and ears become incredibly hot. Ellie leans forward, pushing herself up from the couch and faces you.
“I’d be flattered if you said it’s ‘cause you like me as a person, but we both know that’s not true.”
Her eyes were dazed and unwavering. It could’ve been the alcohol, but it also could’ve been the fact that your mini skirt had been riding up your thighs all night.
And as for you, you surprisingly weren’t repulsed. In fact, you liked seeing Ellie like this. If you were sober you might have dipped already, but your legs were heavy and your panties started to feel very constrictive.
“I think…” She begins walking closer. “That you want the exact same thing. You just act like you’re too good for it.”
You could feel your inhibition weakening. You drunkenly stare up at her. “You think I’m not?”
“I know you’re not.” She takes another step. You go to step back, but your heel hits the wall.
“I don’t blame Dina for trying, but we both know we’re not gonna make up.” Another step.
“No?” You whisper.
“Mm-mm.” Her nose was almost brushing up against yours, now.
The eye contact was unmatched. Ellie wasn’t budging, and neither were you.
“I fucking hate what you do to me,” You whispered against her lips.
She smirks. “I fucking love it.”
Immediately, her lips are engulfing yours, with so much damn fervor and need. You curled your fingers in her hair, and tugged down hard. You didn’t care if you hurt her — after all, she deserved it.
Ellie smiles into the kiss, pulling you in closer as a small grunt leaves her lips. Her legs cage you in against the wall as she forces her tongue into your mouth.
You hated her. You hated her. You hated her.
So how was it possible for her to make you feel so goddamn good?
Her hands begin grasping at the hem of your clothes with frustration.
“Fuck, baby.” She moans. “Take this shit off.”
You were compliant at this point; you merely slid your hands under your shirt and did what she said. Ellie presses her head against your chin, whispering a few more curses as she looks at your exposed breasts.
“So fucking hot,” She groans, pressing her lips to your neck. You whined out of pleasure as you pulled her hips closer to you.
“This is so embarrassing.” You mumble, shutting your eyes.
“Mm,” Ellie hums. “Seem to be handling it quite well, though.”
The brunette begins trailing her kisses downwards. You jump at the new sensation.
“Ellie—“
“Shh.” She murmurs, teething dangerously close to your nipple. “Gotta focus.”
When she latches on, your head immediately falls back. You’re practically speechless as she sucks and swirls her tongue around the hardened bud.
You wanted her to keep going, but you were worried. If Dina and Jesse caught you like this…
As for Ellie, she is absolutely shameless in the way she’s going in on your tits. It was clear that she had wanted to do this for a very long time — she was just being a complete ass about it.
She pulls away with a hard ‘pop’ before looking up at you with her green eyes. “Come here,” She says, grabbing your waist and pulling you down with her.
You gasp as the two of you land on the couch. Her hand quickly finds the back of your neck as she kisses you again, bucking gently against you. A soft moan escapes your lips as you pull back.
“What if Dina and Je—“
“Y/N,” She whispers, pulling her shirt over her head. “I’m in front of you, and I wanna fuck you. Please just shut up for once. Alright?”
You blush, looking down at her chest. Her nipples were poking out, hard as rocks. “You’re so fucking mean.”
“You’re fucking mean,” She says, smirking. “Depriving me of this for so damn long.”
“Didn’t think you wanted me,” You slur against her lips.
“Yeah, well… you are pretty fuckin’ annoying.” She huffs, as you lean in to kiss her again. As the minutes pass, you find yourself rolling your hips against hers.
“More,” You say quietly.
“Hm?”
“Want more of you, Ellie.” You sighed, nudging your fingertips under her waistband. “Please.”
She grins before sliding her sweatpants and underwear off. “Only because you said please.”
When your fingers drag down against her clit, she’s wet, and you absentmindedly moan. She sneers, staring up at you.
“What?” You ask.
“Nothing, just… that was the sluttiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
You hum against her skin, gently rubbing your thumb against her hood. “I could be sluttier.”
“Oh yeah?” She responds, grazing her teeth against your jaw.
You drag your fingers from her pussy to your lips, gently engulfing them in your mouth. You keep your eyes on her as you suck her juices off, groaning at the sweet taste.
Ellie’s face becomes that of a pornstar. Her eyes are half-lidded, nearly rolling back as she stifles a moan.
“Holy fuck,” She says, biting down on her lip. Her gaze drops to your lower body, and she begins shoving the fabric of your skirt up.
“What are you doing?” You murmur, watching the skirt bunch around your waist.
“Not gonna waste anymore time,” She explains, tugging at your panties. “I fucking need this pussy.”
You help her remove the undergarment, letting it drop onto the floor. Her hands settle on your ass as you gently lift her leg, lining yourself up against her.
“Fuck yes,” She whispers, watching carefully as you gently slot your cunt against hers.
Her cunt was soft, and incredibly slick and sticky. It takes you a moment to get the right angle before you begin to get a rhythm going.
Once you start speeding up, Ellie practically loses it. She’s breathing like she can’t get enough air.
“Fuck yes.” She repeats, bringing her hand down onto your ass with a hard slap. Her eyes are closed as she scrunches her brows in pleasure. “Holy fucking shit.”
“God,” You moan, sloshing your pussy up against hers. “You’re so wet, Ellie.”
The room becomes one filled with wet noises and moaning. Ellie’s hands are grabbing at everything — your ass, your tits, the couch. She’s in euphoria, seeing stars as she tries not to black out.
“Goddamn,” She mutters. “So fucking good, baby. Doing so fucking good.”
You whimper at the praise, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening. Ellie had been your worst enemy for months, and here you were, bumping clits with her like a fucking slut.
“Shit—“ She grunts, pushing her head back. “I‘m close, ‘m gonna cum.”
“Already?” You joke. “That’s quick, don’t you think?”
She quickly opens her eyes and looks at you. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” You say slyly, slowing down ever so slightly.
She smacks your ass, hard. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
You slow down even more, grinning proudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ellie.”
“Y/N, you better fucking finish me off.”
“But… ” You whisper in an innocent tone. “We’re having so much fun, right?”
“I swear to—“ She exhales vexedly before sinking her nails into your hips. “Fuck it.”
She sits up, grabbing you forcefully before pushing you down so you’ve switched places. Ellie props your leg up on her shoulder.
“Wanna be a fucking brat? Hm?” She whispers, bringing herself down on your cunt harshly.
You moan in response, goosebumps beginning to form on your arms. You place your hands on her abs, pushing slightly in an attempt to get her to let up.
“Ellie, ‘s too much.” You mewl, as she ruts her pussy against yours.
“Shut up,” She mumbles. “You can take it.”
She keeps you down as she fucks you, ramming herself against your cunt. The sloshing of your clits sends you into a spiral.
“Oh my god, Ellie,” You murmur. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” She grunts. “You like this?”
You nod, but Ellie places a sharp slap on your boob.
“Answer me.”
“Y-Yeah,” You stammer, trying to grasp reality as the only thing going through your mind is how good her pussy feels on yours.
She uses her hand and grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “You better not fucking cum until I do, you hear me?”
You nod again. “Y-Yes, Ellie.”
The way Ellie scissors is ruthless. She’s concentrated, hair sticking to her forehead as she stares down at you. She watches the way your tits bounce as she fucks herself on you, watching as you beg her to slow down.
Her teeth clench as she nears her orgasm. She looks up at the ceiling before dropping her head back down.
“Fuck, I’m, shit— ‘m getting close.”
“Yeah?” You murmur.
“Uh-huh.” You bring your hand up to her cheek as she maintains her rhythm.
“Wanna cum with you, Ellie. Wanna cum all over your fucking pussy.”
“Fuck,” She says through gritted teeth. “Fuck yes. Keep talking, just like that.”
Ellie knew she wasn’t very far off. But she figured she’d make the most of it, in case this was the last time she got to see you like this.
“So good, Ellie,” You say softly. “Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good.”
“Yeah?” She exhales.
“Mhm,” You murmur. “Best I’ve ever had.”
Ellie’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her moans becoming choppy. She gently holds your foot as she grinds her hips down faster.
As Ellie becomes wetter, you stiffen and feel your stomach tightening. You were getting really close, and she could feel it.
“Y/N,” She says. “I’m—“
“Me too—“ Is all you can say, before drawling out into a moan. Ellie rides you deep into your high, breathing sporadically as she cums, herself.
For a second, the two of you barely move, merely catching your breaths. But eventually your leg starts cramping, and you slide it off her shoulder.
“Holy fuck.” You whisper. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
“I can.” Ellie says, slowly hopping off of you.
“You’re a liar.”
“How?” She says, leaning against the opposite end of the couch. “It was only a matter of time ‘til I got into your pants.”
“Oh,” You scoff. “So it was easy?”
“It was so easy.” She says, smiling. You look at the floor.
“Shut up.” You grin, reaching over to grab your clothes. You slowly put them back on as she copies you.
“Wanna go find Dina and Jesse now?” She questions, pulling her shirt over her head.
“I thought you said we couldn’t,” You say. “Since we weren’t gonna make up.”
“Mm, ‘cause we didn’t.” She states, cocking her head. “I need about three more rounds of this before we re-visit that topic.”
“Oh, fuck off.” You giggle, tossing your jacket at her. She laughs, putting her hands up to shield herself as it hits her.
“I’m kinda serious though,” She says. “You wanna give me head next time? Or…”
You smooth your hair down. “In your dreams, Williams.”
She looks around, contemplating for a moment. “Does that mean I give you head instead?”
“Ellie please shut up now.”
#ellie williams#ellie tlou2#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams smut#tlou2 fanfic#kinktober 2023#kinktober#kinktober day 1
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Normal People Things (dark!141 x fem!Reader)
Soap drags you to his place to meet with his lieutenant. It goes as smoothly as you can imagine.
AO3
CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation
The ride is short – shorter than you anticipated. You don’t know if you wanted it to be longer if you needed more time to sort out the thoughts flying in your head – you feel numb, empty, hollow, all of those stupid words for stupid expressions because nothing can quite describe the dread settling in your stomach.
Your throat burns, your makeup is ruined, you are shaking like a kitten left under a rain – you listen to some light music, something you could hear in the car of a guy you’d probably be interested in. Classic rock, some melodic sensations, if you squint and cover your mouth, you can almost relax and stop the desire to puke. You felt mostly sober when the Scot was pushing his dick in your mouth, the horror of the situation forcing your mind to clear up a little – but now it’s foggy again, blurry and messy every time you open your eyes just to see the same man on the front seat, smiling every time he catches you looking at him through the mirror.
He broke your phone, obviously – snatched it from your hands and broke it in two with horrifying ease. He kissed you after this, cold lips on your forehead. You were crying, or so you think – you were crying this whole ordeal, your face feeling wet and burning as he was fucking laughing, trying to get you to talk to him. You wouldn’t, even if your throat weren’t hoarse and hurting from the fucking he gave you.
“Want to grab somethin’ to eat, bonnie? I know a bloody lovely place, eh?”
You didn’t respond, the thought of taking something from a guy who eligibly kidnapped you made you sick. Besides, it’s not like food will do you any good – your stomach is spinning from a combination of fear and alcohol, and even though you’d love to ruin this pretty car, you don’t want to evocate even more negative feelings from its owner. He hasn’t hurt you too much yet – no bruises, no broken bones or blood, and you don’t want to provoke him further.
“Don’t cry so much, I didn’t even fucked ye. I’ll get ye off later, aye?”
You don’t want him to ever touch you again – despite that disgusting, burning feeling on your panties, the way your little cunt is fucking soaked because his voice is gruff, his face is pretty, and he almost touched you in a way that wasn’t making you sick – it all dropped now, thankfully, your mind is reminded of just how horrible he really is. “Just sit yer wee arse here, lassie. Lt and I will take care of ye” You almost fell asleep when he finally stopped in front of…a building. You don’t know what you were expecting – an evil lair, maybe some grimy base where monsters like him are being made. Not a rather normal apartment building, maybe a bit too scary and dark for your liking – you probably wouldn’t want to live here or even be around this place at night, but, ultimately, it doesn’t look like an evil base.
This only makes your condition worse – you start sobbing again, useless and pathetic begging as the Scot drags you out of the car, supporting your wobbly legs and making sure you won’t fall down to the ground as he gently caresses your body. He is too fucking soft, too gentle – even his grip on your wrists isn’t bruising, he has one hand on your waist, gently pushing you towards the building.
***
Ghost wasn’t expecting guests today. He just got out of another deployment, a few days from the previous mission, ready to get back any time if it weren’t for the fact they all deserved a little retreat – yet, he was planning to go with alcohol, maybe some lowly jerk-off sessions with Johnny and shitton of cigarettes to pass the day. What he wasn’t expecting is his sergeant spamming the 141 group chat – shitty idea, really, too much liability and security problems, despite all the measures Price took to encrypt everything – with pictures of cute, crying girl being all adorable, scared and fucking defenseless.
No one in 141 is a good person – it comes with the job, really, if you’re willing to be a good guy with a gun, there will always be a moment when the lines become blurred. Dragging a civilian girl to their damp apartment isn’t a life-or-death decision made in the field, but they all deserve a bit of sweetness after a mission, right?
They can be good for you. Simon isn’t sure there is anything in his heart that can still be declared as soft and fuzzy feelings, but he is willing to try and find it, even if for a night. They won’t be letting you go, obviously, Lasswell won’t cover their sorry asses in case you’re getting out with a marvelous surviving story, so you all would have a lot of time to get to know each other.
— Thought you’d bring food, Johnny.
— I did. Not my fault they gave up sweets as freebies.
— How is she?
— Quiet. Our lassie is a smart girl, eh? Didn’t even fight too much.
— Fuckin’ hell. Thought they stopped making those a while ago.
— Good thing I found her, aye?
Ghost stands at the door of their shared apartment, staring at adorable scared you. You’re shaking in his sergeant’s hands, poor thing, too fucking terrified to even run – you have mascara smeared all over your face, drool and cum on your lips, and he drags a finger to your mouth, wiping it all away.
You instinctively suck on his finger, the natural obedience coming with a very simple “please, don’t hurt me” plea – and he fucking knows you will be so good for them. He is dragging you inside, allowing Soap to push the takeout bag on the small table in the kitchen while Simon is dealing with all of those silly clothes you’re wrapped in.
You beg him to stop, but, at this point, even you don’t think he will. All ounces of hope were destroyed already. You aren’t sure what you want anymore – maybe you want to just lay down and sleep, hoping that they will stop tormenting you. The ache between your legs only grows stronger when Ghost drags you to the bedroom, his strong, bulky hands holding you so perfectly – so firmly, you can’t even wish to move away.
The mattress creaks under the combined weight of your bodies. You roll to the side immediately, your brain is foggy from alcohol again – you don’t even register his rough, firm hands as he is slowly dragging the ruined dress from your body, revealing the underwear you spend so much time choosing and buying. You liked the combination – you wanted to wear something nice today, even if no one would have seen it.
Now you have this horrifying man in a skull balaclava and harsh hands tugging on the straps of your bra. You sob, head spinning and vomit picking in your throat. The man puts a hand between your shoulder blades, just enough pressure to make you grounded – to remind you that there is no way out, even in your mind.
— Calm down, love. Won’t hurt ya.
You choke on a laugh – they are literally going to fucking assault you, you were already forced to suck on Soap’s dick, and yet, this man is playing gentleman with you while undressing you at the same time. You cry again, your tears met with a soft hand on your cheek – checking on you.
God, you want to drown in this affection, no matter how artificial it is.
— L…let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone.
— Too late for that, eh? Johnny don’t have any bloody manners.
Scot screams from the kitchen, making you wince from the sound.
“Bloody hell, Lt, I ken ye were fine with draggin’ our lassie here a minute ago!“
You sobs intensify, and you never felt more fragile than before – just one loud sound is enough to break you. The British guy drags you into an uncomfortably tight embrace almost immediately – you’d say you’re almost thankful for the moment of affection, but he snaps your bra a second later.
— Sorry, love. Will buy you a new one.
His fingertips are rough on your skin, a contrast that sends shivers down your spine. You whine, feeling stranded like this – feeling like you’re going to be fucking sick from the moisture in your panties. You hate yourself for being this touch starved, but the man is as rough as he is mysterious – and by the look of his figure, perfectly sculpted hands, and a healthy amount of tummy that doesn’t make him look any less intimidating, he might be up to your tastes. It's too bad you don’t have a choice anyway.
— Don’t touch me.
— Can’t help it. You’re pretty.
You feel like you are going to have a fucking panic attack. This is too much – you feel sick, you feel mortified, you are getting your hands out of his hold with the power of surprise and dragging them closer to your mouth, trying to contain the involuntary bile collecting in your throat. You gag, finally feeling all the alcohol you took, getting back to bite you in the ass.
Before you could say or try anything else, before you could even be bent over, trying to calm yourself down before you dirty everything in this fine-looking bedroom, Brit already dragged you to the bathroom, allowing you to look at the tile floor and white ceramics while you were vomiting your guts, cum, and anxiety out of your stomach.
It took you a few minutes before you could get anything out – and another few while you were just holding the toilet seat, not even caring about how unsanitary it was. You feel like you’re going to die, the throbbing in your head only intensifying as you could almost feel dropping out of conscience. God, you will never drink again – even though it’s a promise that will break you right after you break it.
— Bloody hell, love. Easy. Easy.
— F…fuck you.
— You will, love. Promise.
The skull mask guy was rubbing your back the whole time, a motion you didn’t expect from a kidnapper, rapist and a fucking arsehole. He gently took your hair out of the way, he slowly rubbed calming gestures in your aching muscles, and you leaned into his touch, your state was finally reaching the breaking point – you were longing for the soft touch of your captor, not even caring that he is just as awful as his friends, rummaging through various bags somewhere in the other room.
You cry, the depths of the situation finally getting to you – and he drags you into a tight hug after wiping your mouth with a paper towel, throwing it away before you could feel sick from the smell again.
He talks you through it with his grovely voice and deep accent, and you can’t help but lean in and listen.
— Calm down. Can’t have you panicking on my cock.
— D…don’t touch me. Please.
— You need this, love. We’re not the worst people who could have picked ya up.
— You’re a bunch of fucking ra…
He stops you immediately – holds your hand, and drags you back to the bedroom almost too rough, dropping you to the bed before you can manage to scramble your legs and writhe away from his touch. You sob again, crying even more – you don’t have makeup now. Thankfully, everything was mostly wiped out by the paper towels and a mix of your tears, but you still feel horrible. Laying on the soft bed in your soaked panties made you feel like a slut, and this is not the feeling you were expecting out of this night. You just fucking wanted to go home and sleep the alcohol out, not…this.
— We’ll take care of you. Be a good girl for us, and I will make Johnny pay for not getting you off, eh?
You can hear the Scot again, emerging from the kitchen in an apron – to your surprise. He looks too domestic, too clean, his hair is a bit disheveled after your little attempt at breaking out, and you can see the resemblance between him and a very, very sad and polite dog. If he had a tail, it would be curled between his knees, a look of genuine guilt almost making you believe that he wanted to apologize for being so forceful.
— Steamin’ Jesus, I tried to be a gentleman. Didn’t want to scare our lassie too much.
— She’s shivering. Poor girl, was Johnny this scary?
— It’s yer mask. Wee things always scared of those.
They both laugh, clearly not taking your tears seriously. You curl into the bed, trying to protect your exposed breasts and midriff as much as possible. You don’t want to be touched, you feel dirty and used already, but their attentive gaze is making your skin burn and crawl from the feelings you never thought you knew before. It’s a horrible situation, but somehow, you are almost flattered because of how affectionate they both look for someone as insignificant as you.
Maybe, it’s your brain trying to protect itself from further trauma. Maybe, if you’d lie to yourself long enough, you could pretend you want this.
Ghost looks at you, drinking the drowning panic in your eyes. You’re so pretty, so helpless, he doesn’t even want to think of what could happen to you if Johnny weren’t here to pick you up. You’d be murdered in cold blood, left laying on the side of the street after a group of some perverts would be done with you. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you deserve a proper help and calmness of living with them – and he knows that once he is done with bringing his first orgasm with your body, you will learn to love it too. Maybe not at first, but the seeds would be there.
He tries to be on his best behavior as he slowly drags his body between your legs, catching your ankles once you tried to kick him. You’re like a kitten, growling and hissing, clawing on his hands like it didn’t turn him on even more – he pins you under his weight easily, enjoying the audience of Soap already palming himself through his pants. Fucking pervert – he already came in your mouth not so long ago, but the lieutenant knows that given a chance, his sergeant will break this girl for another three rounds in a row. They can’t have that, right?
— Calm, love. Don’t make it harder for yourself.
— Stop…please, just…god, wait, I…
It’s such empty words, he knows you can’t calm yourself down – you’re a pretty girl, really, you’re cute and adorable, and you don’t deserve his firm hand taking off your lace panties, but he knows that you will love it after a few more times. You’re dripping already, a combination of manhandling and previous foreplay making you adorably weak for them.
— Will make you nice and wet, yeah? Such a pretty cunt, bound to give it a taste.
— W..wait, please, don’t, really, j…just let me…
— Quiet, love. You’ll fuckin’ love it.
Ghost drags his fingers straight into your folds, spreading them as quickly as possible. He would love to give you more time to adjust, but he was hard ever since Johnny made that goddamn call, and patience isn’t his best quality when on leave – he needs you in all ways you can handle. On your back, preferably, he wants to see that pretty face of yours when he will bottom himself in your cunt and make you squeal. Maybe play with your ass for a little – if you’re going to be the team’s favorite girl, they need all of your holes ready to be used.
You squeak from surprise when he drags his mask on the upper half of his face, revealing his mouth. Clean-shaved chin, a bit of uneven blonde stubble, strong jawline – he smirks because he knows he is quite the opposite of ugly, that even after all the burns and scars, he is still that rugged type of handsome that ladies in pubs just love to touch. He wonders if you’re more of a typical pretty boy type – he wonders if you’d like Gaz as much as you love Simon. And you fucking adore him by the sight of your wet pussy almost dripping on his tongue.
You beg him to stop when he slides his tongue in, the feeling of his harsh fingers stretching you only making everything hotter, less bearable. You don’t want to like it, but he is handsome and strong, he is whispering sweet compliments into your pussy, sliding sloppy kisses all over your folds, not forgetting to pay attention to your throbbing clit.
“Such a pretty cunt for us. What was the last time she got so much attention?”
He kisses you down there sloppily, adding another finger almost immediately to really make you feel that burn. You’re crying from stimulation, it’s been a while since the last time you had anything so heated – you just want him to stop, to proceed, to let you go, and also to never stop kissing your pussy and collecting all the juice that’s been flowing from you. You make the bedsheets under your ass wet, and Ghost just can’t help but stretch you a bit more, enjoying the sound of your confused, almost pained squeals.
“Stop crying, love. I could have taken your arse instead.”
He can only imagine how adorable you’d look, crying from his cock in your plump rear. He is by no means small, and the thought of tearing your pretty arse just a little, making you cry from being filled so much, makes him even harder. He needs to be patient, can’t break your rear before Captain gets here – but god, isn’t patience the hardest virtue.
“S’good for me. Sorry, love, can’t wait much longer. Got a bloody lovely cunt f’ me”
You cry even harder when Ghost finally slides his cock in you – one harsh thrust, the sound of his hips slapping against yours, is enough to make you sick again. You’re stretched, dripping wet, it wouldn’t hurt if only he had a normal-sized cock, not the fucking monstrosity he is showing in your underprepared pussy. Nothing would prepare you for this – he started moving immediately, with little regard for your comfort. The niceties he was whispering were falling on deaf ears as he slammed inside of you over and over again.
You feel sick.
— Fuck. S’ tight for me.
You’re clenching around his dick, not allowing him to pull back. Such a pretty girl, he doesn’t know what he would do without that feeling – he wants to fucking devour you whole, to have you laid out for him so prettily. He bottoms finally, stretching you beyond any man could – you feel him somewhere deep, near your cervix, hitting your sensitive walls while all you can do is cry for him to stop tormenting you like this. You can only squeal under him, for him, he is hitting all of your special spots at the same time, and you don’t know if you could really handle him like this.
His hand lands on your folds, playing with your clit – only making you more and more wet with each second, you almost feel like you are passing the breaking point already. He is stronger than you want him to be, and you feel like he is going to fucking break you, every attempt of squirming from under him is met with a fierce grip on your waist, dragging you back where you belong – moaning and crying on his cock.
The intrusion stopped being painful after a few minutes, you’re open enough to allow his cock to slide in and out easily. He bites your neck, munching on sensitive flesh like he is going to rip a chuck off you, leaving marks as if he were a wild dog. You moan under him, the feeling of his teeth on your skin isn’t exactly horrible – but not too enjoyable either.
You squirm softly, hoping he would at least cum soon.
— That’s right. Dumb civvie girls should just relax for the ride.
— N…not dumb. I’m not dumb.
— Only a dumb girl like you would get in Johnny’s hands. S’ry, love, but you really are dumb.
— I’m…
— It’s alright. We like dumb girls.
He moans in your ear, biting your earlobe, engaging in a sloppy kiss that allows you to taste your pleasure on his lips. You hate every second, you want to loathe every inch of his body, but his hand is moving faster and faster, steady rhythm that makes you see stars every time he plunges his cock inside – and, oh god, you can’t help but feel your pussy throbbing around him, the tight knot in your lower tummy getting warmer and warmer as his movements steadily brings you to an orgasm.
It hits you too fast to be prepared for – just a few minutes later, you’re panting under him, mouth open agape as he slides his cock even faster, abusing your poor, sensitive cunt. You’re milking him for cum, not even caring that you are not on the pill – you just concentrate on the head of his cock hitting your G-spot in the most perfect of timings and his rough fingertips caressing your clit in a way that makes you go wild.
You cum with a cry, soft, squeaky sobs escaping your lips as you hiccup and moan, pressing your hips against his in an attempt to become as close as possible. You feel his hot cum filling you up, a slight bulge in your lower tummy becoming even more prominent.
Ghost kisses you on the forehead as he slowly emerges from you, hissing as your tight walls refuse to let him go. You’re so fucking perfect, all flushed and panting heavily, neck covered in bite marks and outline of his bruises forming on your waist.
He pats your pussy a few times, making you shiver from the feeling.
— Such a pretty girl. Lay here, your cunt is goin’ to be a bit more visitors today.
He smiles, kissing you on the lips again – you whimper, curling on the bed, feeling the hot cum dripping from your exhausted, sore pussy. You feel his hand affectionately patting your head as if you were a cat, and he hums in approval when you instinctively lean towards his hand, getting as much affection as you possibly can. He brings you a pillow and drags your head so it would rest more comfortably – and you already feel extremely tired, your eyes closing.
You’re almost ready to sleep when you feel the Scot sliding in bed with you, slowly spreading your legs.
#cod#cod x reader#call of duty#cod x you#yandere cod#yandere ghost#yandere soap#soap x reader#dark ghost#yandere 141#141 x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#yandere#yandere male#yandere imagines#male yandere
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Requested/traded by @veiled-rebel
Oooooo more options to choose from on this! Plus a something i resonate with✨
(Also. I’m aware that Alastor is Aro/Ace. Just read it as platonic if you’d like!)
Hazbin boys with an S/o that noms affectionately!
Lucifer:
* Listen he already has seen all TYPES of affection! From his wife! And well the couples from those tv shows and his duck operas! (……he’s depressed leave the poor man alone-) but….nomming is definitely new.
* First time you did it, he legit screamed before realizing it was you. He’s like baby why-? You scared the shit out of me- bro thought his rubber ducks came to life and chose violence-
* But he soon learns that you just do it to show affection. And he learns this when he saw your face looking up at him from sheer adoration mid nom. And oh how could he say no to that precious face?❤️ he lets you do it anytime you want comfort or simply to show him how much you love him.
* So whenever you’re feeling down and you suddenly stop nomming, he’s rushing with a shitton of gifts to see if you’re ok and is ready to make you feel better.
* At this point he’s used to it and feels so loved whenever you’re around….
Alastor:
* Honestly I feel like he’s heard about nomming and had no idea what the hell it was. Until he met your ass. Now he’s wondering how he managed to get someone like you in his life-
* First time you are extremely lucky you didn’t fucking die- he barely lets people touch him unless you’re close to him. Which you are…..But you snuck up on him on this one. Lesson learned-
* He’s very confused when you explain it to him too. Like why ARE you doing this? Affection? Are you mentally ok-? He’s probably gonna need a little convincing but hey enough pestering and he’ll let you nom to your heart’s content (if it will shut you up-)
* But he ends up learning your emotional habits through noms. Sad? Your noms get less motivated and almost stops completely. Excited? You get that goofy smile on your face. Mad? Almost nomming his hand off- he makes mental notes of it.
* Safe to say, nomming actually got you closer to the radio demon. Such an odd turn of events!
Husk:
* He’s heard of nomming. Probably from some random person at the bar mentioned it. He finds it….well a weird ass conversation starter. But when he mentioned it to you and that he didn’t get it, you gladly showed him!
* And first time was definitely fucking hilarious. He let you nom his shoulder….and in return you got cat hair in your mouth for being a little too overzealous. Shit had Husk laughing for a hot minute-
* But overtime you were more careful and nommed places that were covered or with less hair. And overtime….he actually kinda enjoys it. Very chill about it. You could nom him mid conversation and he’d still just just talk like nothing happened-
* Though the moment you slow down because you feel sad? BOOM. Le kitty actually noms you! Which is probably shocking considering Husk’s grumpy ass. It was so cute, you forgot why you was upset-
* Talk about a happy win-win situation!!!
Angel Dust:
* Imma be straightforward…..he thought it was a sex thing. And hard to blame him. I mean the shit he’s seen and experienced? Nomming sounds too fucking innocent to not be horny-
* Buuuut first time you did it, he was completely caught off guard when you just suddenly lunged at his free hand. And yet….huh. It wasn’t TOO bad. He didn’t expect it to be gentle. He’s definitely gonna make a dirty joke about you being kinky-
* He never rejects your noms either. He just pats your head as if reciprocating your affection. He can’t help it! You just look like a little cutie when you do it! And your silly lil face you make? You’re his special lil goofball! Oh man he is gushing isn’t he?
* Bro be ready to gun down buildings if you’re sad and stop your noms. But if you’re just not feeling it? Shit say less. He’ll nom you! He’s so gentle too, not wanting to hurt you with his sharp teeth….but teases the shit out of you the moment you blush. He can’t help it :3
* He’s just a spidey boy in love. And any affection of yours is ok with him!
Sir Pentious:
* He’s….definitely not gonna know nomming. Or a lot of ways to show affection in general. He’s old school and inexperienced hun. But he has the determination. And that’s enough to you✨
* Though first time he did scream bloody murder, act like he was dying dramatically, then realize it was just you. So of course he asks what the heck was that for?! Once you explain it, he listens intently….and vows to practice the arts of nomming!
* So there goes a back and forth nomming session that happens ever so randomly- mostly him just trying to learn how to nom you carefully. Because have you seen his teeth??? He does learn though! And he actually finds it as fun as you do!
* Awwww but when you stop the sessions, he will demand his egg boys to prepare his chambers! So you and him and the egg boys cuddle up until you feel better. Which cmon it’s hard not to gush seeing how cute this is-
* He really lovesssss you a whole lot :D (that was an awful joke- :’D)
#my writing#funny#cute#hazbin hotel headcanon#x reader headcanons#hazbin lucifer#hazbin husk#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#sir pentious#fluffy headcanons#writing trade#request answered#hazbin hotel x reader#reader is gender neutral#can be seen as platonic or romantic
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Last Christmas - Jamie Tartt x fem!reader
masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs
"Now I know what a fool I've been, but if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again"
@emeraldsandelderberries asked: jaime x reader christmas request :) maybe a second chance romance a la “last christmas” by wham! ?
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: none really! I guess anxiety and panic attacks if you squint, but not really
Tags: fluff, second chance, christmas, drama, hurt/comfort
A/N: This request was soooooooo sweet!!! AH I LOVED IT, I'm so sorry it's this late! 😭 IT might be a bit more dramatic/moody than you've wanted but I really hope you like it! ❤❤
Christmastime in London was always special to you. You loved how the storefronts all dressed up into colourful decorations and cheerful lights, how the smell of warm cookies filled the air as you passed your favourite bakery on your way to work. Excitement and restlessness filled people’s hearts as they were waiting for a little break at the end of the year, a time of reflection and hope. And honestly you could’ve used a fresh start.
Work was hectic in the office before at the end of the year, but you always pushed through by thinking of the holidays approaching faster day by day. The last weeks before Christmas were all about secret Santas and Christmas gatherings at the office as well.
You were having lunch in the small kitchen at work when your phone lit up with your best friend’s name. She usually doesn’t call, so you answered suspiciously.
“I have a huge favour to ask” she said quickly without even saying hello. You put your face into your palm as you braced yourself for what was about to come and even like that you were shocked at her next words. “I need you to come to the company Christmas Party with me.”
“You what?” you asked, trying to conceal the sudden anger in your voice that was bubbling up inside you. It wasn’t like you to get angry easily, especially not on her, but this time it came so out of the blue. Why would she ask that?
“I know babes, I’m so sorry I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t life or death!”
“How can a Christmas party be life or death?” you asked cynically, drumming your fingers on the table next to your lunch. You’ve lost all your appetite.
“I will die if you won’t come with me, that’s how” she joked, trying to lighten your mood.
“You’re so dramatic” you chuckled, but you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Go on.”
“Look, I don’t want to spend all my evening alone with my coworkers and their families and my rich boss, and insufferable football players!” she started. “You know this is not like a few-drinks-in-the-office kind of party, it’s full bling in a fancy hotel and shitton of food and booze!” you could basically see her waving her hand around while talking. “I thought just the two of us could hang out, get hammered and judge others. What do you say?” You rolled your eyes. She knew this was a compelling offer, but not compelling enough. Not when you could risk running into him.
“Okay, but!” You started and held up a finger like she could see it through the phone. “I have the right to leave at any time I want. Deal?” You heard her let out an annoyed groan at the other end of the line.
“Fine, whatever. I know you’ll love it.”
“I sure will. What do I wear?”
“Go all out babe. I’ll meet you tomorrow at 6. Love yous!” She hung up the call and you placed your phone on the table and just stared at it for a moment.
Your best friend was working at Richmond FC. The football club whose every match you’ve seen since you remember, up until last year. It was your family’s team. Now thanks to Jamie Tartt, you couldn’t even think of the name Richmond. And now your friend wants you to go back there, all dressed up, to an event where you could possibly – or even most likely – meet him and have to talk to him. Have to smile at him like he didn’t break your heart. Like you didn’t cry about him for months after he left.
But you weren’t that girl anymore, were you? Time has passed, you moved on, right? You didn’t cry about him anymore. But the twisting feeling in your gut when you thought about him, when someone mentioned him or even the team, when you saw ads with him told you otherwise. Told you that you in fact, have not moved on. But he doesn’t have to know that.
The walk on the way home was chilly and this time you couldn’t admire the flickering Christmas lights around you on the street, nor the sweet smell of cookies coming from the bakery. Your mind was filled with the thought of him, and the possibility of seeing him again. The thought of your friend being an asshole also crossed your mind a few times, but you knew she didn’t mean any harm. For all she knew you were over Jamie. And you were convinced of that too, but the squeezing feeling in your chest told you otherwise. You didn’t listen though. You didn’t care about him. You didn’t.
You told that to yourself the next day as you looked for that beautiful dress in your wardrobe that you might or might not wanted to wear to impress him. To make him feel like an idiot for throwing you away. You didn’t care about him. As you did your makeup a little more elegant than usual. You didn’t care about him. As you did the finishing touches on your hair. You didn’t care about him.
You picked up your purse and locked the door when you saw your friend calling, meaning she was there to pick you up with a cab. The cold air made you shiver a little and you were thankful for the ride. Wintertime was really not made for having these parties. A thin layer of snow covered the streets and the rooftops, the streetlights painting it a warm hue of gold. You let out a relieved sigh, suddenly you felt calm from the peaceful sight. You hopped in the cab and closed the door. Your friend let out an audible gasp as she looked at you.
“You look fucking fit, girl!” she squealed before she hugged you. You scoffed and chuckled before pulling away.
“Thanks, I guess” you smiled, heat crawling to your ears. Your friend gave the address of the venue to the cab driver, and you were off into the night.
“You really did go all the way, huh?”
“Your wish is my command!” you smiled at her, your heart hammering against your ribcage.
“I got you something” she said and started to rummage through her small purse before she pulled out a small bottle of liquor. You laughed.
“Aren’t we going to a party with unlimited free booze?”
“Wanted to have a moment for just the two of us. No offense” she chuckled and looked at the cab driver who smiled back at her. “Thanks for being here.”
“My pleasure” you replied and took a sip out of the bottle. You felt the liquid burn your throat before you handed it to her. Truth be told, you felt alright. Together with your best friend, dressed to the nines, having a fun night out. Who cares about Jamie Tartt?
When you stepped inside the giant ballroom, your breath got caught in your throat. You’ve been to fancy places before – mostly with Jamie -, but nothing of such magnitude. The room was framed by insanely tall walls with red velvet covering, and shiny accents. Christmas ornaments and decorations hung from the ceiling next to the chandeliers, and there was a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner, next to the stage where the band played soft jazz music. Round tables occupied half of the room in a neatly organised pattern, the other half was the dancefloor.
Kind men took your coat, and you clutched your purse to try to calm your nerves. You felt like you didn’t belong, you stuck out like a sore thumb among these gorgeous and rich people. You felt your friend’s hand squeeze your own as she led you further into the room.
“It’s gonna be fine. We’re eating, getting wasted, dancing then going home, ‘kay?”
“Okay” you breathed. You didn’t dare to look around the room in case you recognised someone. Him.
The two of you made a beeline towards the bar and ordered your favourite shot that you drank immediately. You hoped it would calm your nerves a little.
“Easy girl, the night is still young!”
“That’s especially why I’m drinking” you chuckled. You felt a tap on your shoulder and your heart dropped to your stomach, blood freezing in your veins. That was until you’ve turned and saw Sam’s face and his thousand-watt smile.
“I knew it was you! It’s so good to see you!” he cheered, his accented voice ringing in your ear as he hugged you.
“Sam, oh my God! Look at you, you look amazing!” you answered and rested your hand on his arms. “How you’ve been?”
“Good, good! We have a lot to catch up on, you should write sometimes y’know!” Fuck.
“I know, I’m sorry.” A frown settled on your face, and he immediately tried to lighten the mood.
“Just messing with you. But hey, make sure to come say hi to the others later, okay?” he said, and he gestured to the other side of the room, and your gaze instinctively followed. Mistake.
There he was, in all his glory, as tall and handsome as ever. His hair was different, a bit longer and had highlights in it. It really suited him. He wore a slightly unbuttoned shirt and had its sleeves rolled up, his jacket discarded on a nearby chair.
You’ve felt like throwing up, the content of your stomach making somersaults nonstop. Yet you smiled like nothing happened and nodded at Sam. Your friend who you haven’t spoken to in months because he reminded you of Jamie. What an asshole move. And he was so kind he just forgave you.
“We sure will” you answered and squeezed his arm before you let go. And as he turned you sneaked another peek in Jamie’s direction. You felt lightheaded as his gaze caught yours and you looked away in a blink of an eye, turning your back at him.
“Are you alright? I’m so sorry, look, we can just leave” your friend whispered as she looked at you concerned, but you just shook your head.
“I’m fine, really. When is dinner again?”
“In like half an hour” she replied.
“Mint, I’ll catch my breath outside and I’ll be right back, okay?”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, it’s fine, really” you protested. “It’ll be just a minute, promise.”
“Fine” she sighed as she rubbed your arms. “But just a word and we’ll be out of here!” You nodded and headed towards the door that led to the back garden. Your steps were quick, and you had your head low to avoid anyone stopping you in your track. But you felt like your heels were too loud, that everyone was looking at you, that he was looking at you. In reality, only one of those was true.
As you opened the door, the cold air bit into your skin as you stepped outside. The garden was gigantic, and the grass was covered in a thin layer of snow. There were gravel paths going around in twisty patterns curving around shrubbery and statues.
To your surprise there were standing tables outside accompanied by tall heaters. You weren’t cold but you knew it was just temporary, so you took a beeline towards one of the heaters and stood next to the table under it. It was kind of magical, hearing only the distant music from the ballroom and nothing else, watching the snow-covered garden. You felt your heartbeat slow down and anxious thoughts leaving your head.
You heard footsteps approaching and you turned towards them with a smile, thinking it was Sam or your best friend. Of course, that was not the case. He took his jacket back on, but the top buttons on his shirt were still undone. He looked at you with a shy smile.
“I knew I saw you” he said, his hands in his pockets. You knew he was fiddling with them like he always did. You didn’t reply and you weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the anger. You stood in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Me neither” you replied, and your voice was colder than you thought it would be. It was perfect. He just couldn't see how he ruined you. He just couldn't.
“I can leave if you want?” he said, but it was almost like a question. A question you didn’t really know the answer for. Did you want him to leave? Or were you just over the moon that he was there, standing in front of you, with a heavy heart and a shy smile? You kind of never wanted that moment to end. You felt pathetic and you looked away from him, which he took as a cue to leave. “It’s alright. It was nice seeing you. You look beautiful.” What an asshole. What right does he have to call you that?
He turned his back on you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at your shoes. The fancy shoes that you might or might not picked out to impress him. You did get what you wanted didn’t you? He did call you beautiful. So why was it making you so angry?
“I just” he hesitated before continuing. “Wanted to say I’m sorry. Truly.” You looked up at him. His body was halfway turned from you, and he looked back, head hung low and a few strands of his hair fell into his eyes. Your ears were ringing as your heart was pounding in your chest.
“I was a royal prick. And you-“ he scratched his throat. “You deserved better. And you deserve better than me ruining your night, so I’ll leave you be. Sorry. Truly, it was nice seeing you.” he said and turned away. You felt like your mouth acted on its own as you called out after him. His gaze snapped back and met yours.
“Would you-“ you paused. “Like to stay a bit?” You could see his shoulders relax as he let out a breath he was holding. A smile found its way past his lips as he stepped closer to you under the heater.
“I’m glad you asked because I started to freeze my arse off” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But he was still very aware of his situation.
“Yeah, why can’t these company parties be held in the summer? You get all dressed up only to freeze your tits off” you smiled back at him. He was leaning against the table as he looked at you. It somehow felt right, being there with him.
“Well, some of us are more dressed up than others” he grinned as his eyes wandered up and down on your body. You pretended you didn’t see it, but the rising heat in your body said otherwise.
“I know, Rebecca looks insanely good tonight” you said to deflect the compliment.
“Yeah, she’s really good at this glam thing. Kinda jealous of her.” You cocked your eyebrow at him, but you didn’t say a word. Signalling him to go on. “Most of the times I just can’t wait to bolt at these events.”
“Why don’t you? Are you on the clock or something?” you asked, clutching your purse for dear life. The more reasonable part of your brain said you should just tell him to piss off. But you didn’t.
“Nah” he shrugged. “I just like the company a bit more than usual.”
You felt your heart flutter at the compliment. Then you immediately felt sadness. Then anger.
“Jamie, why on earth are you here?”
“Umm, it’s a company Christmas party?” he answered with a question, feigning ignorance.
“I meant here. And you know that. If you really would've liked my company, you probably wouldn't have dumped me to fuck around” you snapped at him and straightened your back, preparing to leave him. “Merry Christmas, Jamie.”
You turned on your heels and headed towards the main building. Now that you’ve stepped away from the heater the cold winter air crawled against your skin once more, tears prickling your eyes. You were stupid for coming here.
You picked up your pace before you felt a warm hand grip your wrist. You felt tired. You felt like you had no energy to do this right now.
“Please, love. Just give me a chance.”
“A chance for what, Jamie? To break my heart again?” you asked in a choked voice from holding the tears at bay. He let go of you and ran his hands through his hair. You hated how you knew he always did that when he was nervous. All this knowledge of him, all that love for him. What were you supposed to do with them now?
“What can I do to make it right? I’ll do anything.”
“Stop making a fool out of me. What do you want? A good nostalgia lay? A charity one, because it’s Christmas?” You were so angry at him. If all these were true, why did he just dump you? Say all those things he said. But at the same time, you wanted this to be true. But you weren’t ready for another heartbreak.
“Piss off, I’ve cried enough because of you already.” You turned your back on him again and stormed off. You saw your friend's silhouette at the door, and you felt relieved.
“I’m so sorry babes, I’ll call a cab, okay? I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“It’s fine. I won’t give him the satisfaction of leaving” you let out a shaky breath and hugged your friend.
“What did he want anyway?”
“He said” you started but your voice choked up. “He said he was sorry. That he wanted to make it right.”
“You’re kidding. What did you say?”
“I told him to piss off, as you can see” you answered and let out a dry laugh.
“I can see that, but why?” she asked, and you snapped your gaze at her.
“What do you mean why? Don’t you remember he broke up with me to chase models instead?”
“But maybe he does want to make it right… and you love-“ she said but you broke her off.
“I don’t. Please can we just drop this? Let’s have dinner, what do you think?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Dinner was served by elegant waiters, all different kinds of soups, meats, salads, whatever you could’ve wished for. And fortunately, they didn’t hesitate to bring you drinks as well.
“No way!” you laughed at another guy who was sitting at your table. He was your friend’s coworker, or something like that. You actually had a really great time since the dinner started. These people were nice and funny, and took your mind off of Jamie for a bit. That was all you could’ve asked for.
“It’s nice to meet finally meet you guys in person, I’ve heard so much about you I feel like I’ve known you for ages!”
“Only good I hope!” another girl, Jenna chimed in and chuckled while your friend just rolled her eyes to hide her awkwardness. Mixing friend groups was always a stressful experience for her. Suddenly Jenna whispered something to the person who was sitting next to her – you remembered her name being Ellie.
“Yeah, for sure” Ellie said, covering her mouth while laughing.
“C’mon girls, didn’t they tell you it’s rude to whisper when you have company? Spill it!” your friend whined as she took another sip from her drink. Jenna rolled her eyes playfully before she leaned closer to the two of you.
“We were just talking about how shaggable some of our footballers are” she giggled, and you choked on your drink, what earned you a few weird looks.
“I’m sorry, I just tried to laugh and swallow at the same time” you replied quickly. During your exchange the wait staff started to clear your tables as the dinner was about to end, leaving place for the music, dancing, and drinking.
“Or maybe you fancy the gaffer? No shame in that he’s pretty fit himself” Ellie continued before Jenna cut her off.
“You bet he is. And he’s such a gentleman, I’ve ran into him at the cafeteria once. Maybe even too much of a gentleman.” She gave a knowing look before she chuckled. You knew this was going to be bad.
“C’mon girls, stop it! Anybody can hear you!” your friend tried to stop the situation from getting worse, but it was of no use.
“So, new girl, what do you say? Do you have a favourite guy on the team?” Jenna rested her head in her hands as she was looking at you, batting her eyelashes. She didn’t mean no harm; she had no way of knowing that you were in fact an ex-girlfriend of one of them.
“You know what, I’m kind of a Roy Kent girl myself” you said, and your friend snorted next to you, almost spitting her drink. You flashed a huge smile at her before clinking your glass against hers. The rest of the girls made approving noises before they got interrupted.
“That kinda hurts” his voice pierced your ears, and your heart went into overdrive. Of course. You turned towards him, and you swore your eyes shot daggers at him. He had one of his hands held out towards you, inviting you to take it. “Spare me a dance?”
You already drank enough to consider his offer. You felt everyone’s eyes on you and for a second you didn’t care.
“Sure” you replied in a low voice as you stood up. You heard a gasp from behind you, but you weren’t sure who it came from. You took Jamie’s hand as he led you towards the dancefloor. You heard your friend say “I told you anyone could hear it!” in the background and you smiled.
After you reached the centre of the dancefloor, he spun you around and put one of his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. You didn’t look him in the eye, but scanned the room for anything else to focus on. The band was playing a slow song and couples started to flock to the floor next to you. You saw Ted asking Rebecca for a dance and even your friend stood up and made her way to the floor with someone. You felt Jamie trying to be sneaky and pulling you closer into him with every sway, but you didn’t say anything.
“Do you remember when you taught me how to dance?” he asked, and you heard the smile in his voice. You did remember.
“Of course” you said, barely audible.
“We moved the couch to make space. And even then, I hit my foot into it.” He spun you around to the rhythm of the music, then pulled you closer than before. And you let him, as you rested your head next to his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment as you closed your eyes. Like you were in your living room again, like he didn’t break your heart.
“Do you think you can forgive me?” he asked abruptly.
“It’s not-“ you hesitated. “It’s not that I can’t forgive you.” You knew you could forgive him in a second, because you loved him. You loved him so much, not a day went by without you missing him.
“What is it then?”
“I just don’t want to be hurt again. I know you just take whatever you want and when you’re bored you just toss it aside.” You fought your tears as you buried your face into his chest.
“I’m not that person anymore, love” he said and stopped the two of you, lifting your chin up so your gaze met his. “I promise.”
“Why should I believe you? You promised before you’d never leave me and then you tossed me aside. Made me feel worthless.”
“Fuck” he exhaled, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Can we talk somewhere else? Can’t hear my own thoughts.” You didn’t reply just nodded before he took your hands and led you outside to the same spot you’ve talked earlier. Tears were prickling the corner of your eyes as you followed him, looking down at your joint hands. He stood under the heater before he turned to you and placed both his hands on the side of your face.
“Look. I was a major prick, I know that.” He searched your face as he spoke. “But I promise, I’ve changed. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, I was an asshole. I know that now” he paused.
“But I-“ he started then he stopped, his eyes frantically scanning your face.
Don’t say it.
“I just-“
Don’t say it.
“Fuck, I-“
Just say it!
“I love you.” You let out a relieved sigh as you closed your eyes. He pulled you closer as he planted a kiss on your lips, shy and chaste. Your heart was stammering against your ribcage, and you felt like it was your first kiss ever.
“I love you too” you whispered as warm tears rolled down your cheeks, contrasting the cold air. He kissed you again, this time braver, and he poured his heart and soul into it as he pulled you in with his hand on the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your heart felt like a thousand suns exploded inside it.
“Please let me make it right.”
“Just make sure you won’t make a fool out of me again for saying yes to this, okay?”
“I promise” he said before he kissed you again. “But I have another question.”
“Yes?” you asked and raised your eyebrow.
“Are you really a Roy Kent girl?” You laughed at how real the concern was on his face as he looked at you with his puppy eyes.
“No, actually I’m a huge Jamie Tartt girl, have you heard of him?” you grinned as you caressed his face.
“Huh, sounds like he’s a lucky fella” he smiled before he leaned in for another kiss. Maybe it wasn’t so bad your friend invited you after all.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tartt h/c#jamie tartt romance#ted lasso x reader#ted lasso cast x reader#fluff
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Okay, hope I'm doing this right, but can you do an Adam x male reader where the reader is an angel who doesn't has wings and is Adam's assistant, and Adam ends up falling in love with him. Also, can you make it smutty since there's barely a lot of 'em.
Don't ya worry hun, ya did it just fine, here's assistant!reader x Adam w a very happy end
Reach out and touch faith
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, blowjobs
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
Adam didn’t know when this all had started, when his tummy had started to feel funny when he was around you. You were supposed to be his assistant, someone who would do the lame and boring work so that he could continue to enjoy being the first man and not bother with the work Sera gave him. And yet he grew quite fond of your company over time. By God, he even found himself disappointing whenever you canceled boys-night. A thing Adam had invented once the both of you grew attached.
Tonight was yet another boys-night you had to cancel, a thing that happened more often than you liked it, but as Adam’s assistant there was a shittone of work to do, especially since Sera knew you’d tear off a limb in order to hand in paperwork on time. Fucking bitch. Adam was not very amused about the fact that you couldn’t hang out tonight, it had been a couple of weeks since he had seen you on boys-night. It wasn’t like he wasn’t hanging out with you after work, that man spent every free second with you as long as time allowed it, but boys-night excluded other people. Boys-night was a you and Adam thing. It was very dear to the first man, though he’d never say that out loud. So the second he got your text that you couldn't make it, he left his apartment and headed for your office. It only took him a couple minutes to barge through your door.
You flinched at the sound of the door hitting the wall and when you looked up you expected many people, but surely not Adam. “The fuck you mean you can't tonight?” the first man asked, he was visibly pissed by the fact that you had work to do. You tried to offer him a smile but he wasn't having it at all, he crossed the room until he stood in front of your desk, his hands slammed down onto the white wood and he hovered over you. “You’ve been canceling this shit for weeks, are you fucking avoiding me?” At that you had to chuckle - oh please you couldn't even avoid you even if you would try. You liked him too much to avoid him - too much to consider him just a friend. But that was the closest to him you could get, a friend, a homeboy. And maybe that was enough, it was certainly more than just being his random assistants he only talked to because he needed to. And yet you longed for him and while Adam had made it quite clear that he was not gay, you felt like he longed for you in the same way. Though that was probably just his thing, the possessive, flirty behavior was simply Adam. Right?
It was normal for colleagues to bond over physical touch, wasn't it? In the beginning Adam had strictly avoided touching you, not because he thought of you any less but because he didn't know you. Soon the both of you grew closer though and with that came cuddling. He often wrapped his arm around your shoulder whenever the both of you had to attend a meeting with Sera, it grounded the both of you. And sometimes - when you work until you pass out at your office - he'd come in late at night and carry you home. Your way home was quite long and due to your lack of wings it took you longer than the other angels.
The wing situation. Another thing that Adam had been surprisingly gentle with. Of course the first man had cracked jokes, now more than ever given that you were friends now - cose friends even. But he had always been quite sensitive with the topic itself, in God's mighty name, he even defended you a couple of times when strangers were to comment on it. I mean it was Adam, most of the time he flipped those people off and yelled at them to go fuck themselves. But he stood up for you and that was what counted in your book. He stood up for you when you kept quiet and you were quite thankful for that - even if he did that in his own adamish ways.
“I’m not avoiding you, dingus,” you rolled your eyes at the brunette who had taken his mask off in order to look at you properly. A huff came from the taller man hovering over you and your desk, “Yeah? Then why the fuck do you keep cancelling boys night? I only ever get you when fucking Lute is around.” But he liked Lute, didn't he? What was the problem with Lute being part of the group? Confusion clouded your eyes heavy enough for Adam to notice, even in his rage - but was it truly rage, or was it anger that only burned because fear fueled it? “Adam I don't understand the problem we're having, we still see each other daily, I-” Adam interrupted you by slamming his hands on the table loudly, causing you to flinch away from him a little. “It’s not about how fucking often we see each other, shithead, it's about when and where we fucking see each other,” his words only caused more confusion on your side, what was his deal? He knew you had a shit ton of work to do, mainly because he and his behavior was causing all this work in the first place. You sighed, “Look I'd rather chill on your couch too, eat shitty food and watch a fucking boring movie, but I can't okay? Sera will murder me if I don't get all of this shit done by tomorrow.” Adam's eyes roamed over your desk as if he was considering something and with a swoop of his wings all the papers that had been sorted through fell to the floor. “The fuck?” you asked surprised and annoyed. It had taken you ages to sort through every sheet of paper and now you had to start all over again. Adam reached for your chin, forcing your eyes to look at him instead of the mess he had just caused. Again. “We’ve known each other for a fucking while now, babes,” he hummed as his eyes took in your face as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Behind cool golden eyes flames were burning, flames hot and bright enough to set your own on fire. “You keep slippin’ away from me and I don't fucking like that,” you had made your own fair share of experiences with Adam and his possessiveness but this felt different, more intense, more real. “Adam, I should-” but yet again the first man wasn't willing to let you finish your sentence. “You should shut your fucking mouth and come home with me, you've worked enough for today.” - “But Sera-” Adam huffed, he was clearly fed up with how things played out and he pulled you closer, forcing you to not only get up from your chair but also to lean over your desk, you inhaled sharply as his face was suddenly so close to yours. “Sera can suck my fucking dick. I say you're done for today.”
Your brain was going wild, there was no way you could respond to his words, it was all a buzz. You felt like someone had wrapped your body in cotton. It felt soft and warm and yet not quite enough. Your eyes were focused on his, golden orbs staring into golden orbs, his expression was serious, left no room for debating things while you were still surprised, lips slightly agape and eyes wide. You wanted to lean closer, to capture his lips with yours and fight with your tongue against his, knowing well that he would win. But you didn't, you couldn't. Your body was frozen in place, still trying to process how close your face was to Adam's.
Being physically close to the first man wasn't new at all, Adam was quite touchy, resting his arm on your head every now and then, wrapping his wing around your back when watching movies at his place. But being so close to his face? That was new and that was clearly something your brain struggled to keep up with. Something in his eyes shifted as he took in your facial expression and it took you a little too long to recognize the emotion that was suddenly on display. Desire.
“Adam I'm being serious, you just caused more-” No. No, Adam was done listening to your excuses. All he wanted was to spend the evening with you, to relax and forget about the sometimes stressful days in heaven. The hand that had been holding your chin in place tightened a little just to pull you in all the way. You let out a surprised gasp as you almost crashed down onto the table, however his wing stopped you from doing so, the soft feathers pressed against your chest to keep your body up while the other wing of his was being wrapped around you. His lips were onto yours and despite your expectations the kiss was surprisingly gentle and slow. You had always taken Adam for the type of guy that would kiss women like they were a five star rated meal, eating them up greedily. But you weren't a woman and Adam's kiss was gentle - so maybe you should throw your expectations aside.
The first man was eager to deepen the kiss, clearly aíming for more, but you pulled back. Confusion was written all over your face. The kiss had been pleasant and warm and had lulled you in immediately. Yet you didn’t quite understand why. “Adam?” you questioned and you watched as the confidence in his eyes faded and was slowly replaced by uncertainty. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to continue the kiss, maybe even deepen it, but you also wanted answers. Was this some one-time thing? Or was he looking for more, something more permanent, something that would go beyond just having sex? “Can you- fuck,” he pushed his hair back in frustation only for it to fall back into place, covering his forehead. “Can we just fucking leave and go home already?” And you wanted to tell him no, wanted to madly tell him that he had just created so much more work when he had pushed all the documents off your desk. But you were tired and Adam’s warm breath on your face felt like a promise, a sickly sweet promise that there would be more than just a kiss - if only for the night or for all of eternity suddenly didn’t matter anymore as you closed your eyes and leaned in again, your lips meeting his to dance with each other yet again. His feathers tickled your chin and you breathed out a laughter that bled into the kiss. This time it was Adam who parted from you instead of the other way around and when he did many emotions laid heavy in his eyes. Trust, desire, comfort, want and love. “Adam I can’t leave, I have work-” “You clearly need to fucking relax, babes, “ he hummed as he stepped around your desk, just to push you down into your chair. Perplexed, you looked up at the first man towering over you. With wide eyes you watched as the brunette dropped to his knees in one fluent motion, his hands were quick to undo your pants and you yelped in surprise as his wings lifted up your body in order to get rid of the fabric, revealing an arching hard erection. Adam shot you a proud grin, you simply rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t interpert too much into it, I haven’t had sex in- oh holy fucking shit,” you interrupted yourself with a loud moan as Adam’s lips wrapped around your penis without a warning and you threw your head back against the backrest of your chair, the gigantic wings made sure you stayed in place.
Confidence reflected in his eyes as he watched you react to his actions, his surprisingly skilled tongue played with the tip of your dick, licked your slit and effortlessly turned you into a whining and moaning mess. If this was Adam’s way to make you relax, you definitely wouldn’t mind him dropping by more often. Sure, you’d probably get even less work done, but who cared about that now, you certainly didn’t, not with your dick shoved down Adam’s throat. The first man moaned around your erection, sending shivers down your spine, his golden eyes were focused on your face, he wanted to see every little reaction of yours, didn’t dare to miss even the slightest bit of desire that was written on your face as he started to move his head up and down your shaft. Your hands clenched down onto the armrests of your chair, nails leaving scratches on the leather that covered them, oh dear lord have mercy. Your eyes were closed and yet Adam felt like you were looking at him with just as much adornment as he held in his eyes for you and only you. Was this how he had thought your first sexual interaction would play out? No, definitely not, but he didn’t mind it at all, not when you were the most divine looking creature he had ever laid eyes onto, and for the record: Adam had seen God himself before so that meant something.
“Adam,” you cried out as you felt your orgasm approach, you knew it had been quick, knew that you lacked the amount of self control it would’ve taken you to keep you from coming undone, it had simply been too long since your last sexual interaction involving someone else and the fact that it was Adam on his knees for you, Adam who you have had a crush on ever since you had first met him, Adam who had always been making jokes about fucking your brains out or giving you the head of your life - well, afterlife - only made it harder to resist. “Adam, ‘m-” With a popping sound he pulled back from your dick, he quickly licked his lips, drinking in every little drop of precum that had stained them so far as he responded, “Fucking let go then, this shit isn’t about holding back.” And then he dove in again, the pace was quicker than before, sloppier as well and with the knowledge that the first man’s only goal was to push you over the edge, no matter how soon that might be, you did as he had told you to and let go, your body physically relaxed underneath Adam’s touch and only a moment later the brunette felt your dick twitching violently against his tongue before he tasted the salty liquid. The taste of cum was gross, Adam wasn’t going to lie about that and it certainly wasn’t the reason why he swallowed it down. He swallowed your load because he wanted to take what you had to offer, no matter how gross it might taste - besides, cleaning it off the floor later wouldn’t be better so he might as well keep the surroundings as clean as possible.
The brunette pulled back yet again once he was sure you were all spent, licked the tip of your dick clean, then his very own lips. His warm hand gently patted your thigh which made you look down at him through hooded eyes, a small yet very thankful smile was on your lips and the brunette couldn’t help but smile back at you. “Feeling better, babes?” You only managed to hum in agreement, too tired to properly respond, as Adam got up from his knees and lifted you off the chair as if it was the easiest thing he’d ever done, “Good. So can we go home now?” You simply nodded as you wrapped your arms around his warm, comfortable body. You weren’t sure when Adam had dressed your lower half again, nor were you sure when he had carried you out of the building, your eyes kept falling shut and you obviously struggled to stay awake. “Get some fucking rest while I fly us home,“ was all you heard before you finally fell fully asleep in Adam’s arms as the cold air of the night surrounded your body, yet Adam’s body heat kept you warm.
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I think you've talked before about how it's wrong to assume the only people who enjoy taboo kink like race play are bigoted white people, right? Tumblr's search remains garbage. I've been trying to formulate some thoughts on it after seeing some videos on "bad books" but I don't really know enough about real world kink culture to know what's valid critique of racism or anti-kink just hiding behind it. So I remembered you'd mentioned the topic at some point and might have some thoughts?
--
Well, first, one should apply basic logic: If shittons of women kink on the ways in which society abuses women, why wouldn't at least some ethnic minorities kink on the way society abuses them?
Second, social media overflows with jackasses saying "Listen to POC" as a thought-terminating cliche, but it's good advice as long as you grasp that you do have to evaluate which people you're listening to and what basis you have for trusting that they know something about a subject.
Honestly, I don't think this topic is that complicated. There are just a lot of cowardly white people around who are too scared of ever being seen as wrong to be willing to do a little research or stand up for anything even remotely controversial. They'll parrot the first anti they run across but not bother to engage with the comments of nonwhite kinksters who are long-time community members with informed opinions.
The person I'd listen to, personally, is Mollena Williams-Haas, a kink educator and submissive. She has talked about race play here, among many other places.
Her comments boil down to it being about consent. If kinksters want to play with a concept and everyone involved is on the same page, it's not the business of outsiders to tell them it's off limits.
Playing with heavy topics in an agreed upon way is completely different from having that thing sprung on you without warning. We're used to making this distinction when people are playing with the trappings of rape but, somehow, lose our goddamn minds when the topic is racism.
Now, yes, there are plenty of gross white creeps who think nonwhite kinksters will inherently be interested in this sort of thing and should cater to them... but how is that any different from your usual pest in a bar chatting up uninterested parties and refusing to take no for an answer? The problem isn't squicky kinks that many of us don't want to hear about: The problem is jackasses treating others as a fantasy and/or kink dispenser instead of a person with feelings and needs.
Frankly, most of the arguments against this sort of kink are your usual "As a woman, you should be setting a good example!" bilge that's leveled at all submissive women but on steroids because a woman of color is extra, extra, extra responsible for living her whole life as An Example. (And I notice that it's generally submissive nonwhite women who come in for the most abuse even though plenty of other dynamics exist. Quelle surprise.) It's bullshit. People should mind their own damn business.
As for "bad books"... Are we talking bodice rippers with nonwhite heroines or what? Are we back to colonizer romance wank? Books about characters engaging in race play in a BDSM context? I think it's reasonable to critique books that don't seem to know what they're doing—e.g. not seeming aware that a rape scene is one—but stupid to worry about iddy trash that is trying to be iddy trash. People will always like socially unacceptable id fodder. Some books will always cater to that.
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HCs for Gar on a first date with gn reader? Thank you!! I love DC Titans so much and it’s been so hard finding fics for the show specifically
I love the idea of Gar on a first date omg. Also - if you're looking for more Titans fanfiction based on the show specifically, literally all the fanfiction that I have written for the Titans characters is based on the show. The show is my passion. Especially Gar. So - definitely check out that Masterlist
Requests for Titans are OPEN
What would a first date with Gar Logan be like? (Headcanons)
(Idk if there's any warnings for this? It's pretty much pure fluff. Gar calls the reader 'cute'. Idk. Mentions of shooting games, if that's a warning?)
So, this might be obvious, but I have to say it - Gar would bring you to an arcade for a first date. It's classic, it's cute, it can be romantic as well as being a shitton of fun. It would be his first choice of a date no matter what.
He would love sharing all of his favourite games with you, and he would encourage you to try them no matter what - if you're not very good at games or if you're an expert and you're gonna beat all of his high scores, then he will be right by your side, cheering you on as you play.
He is absolutely not fancy - he would love pizza or burgers and fries as a first date food (of course, his version would be vegan or vegetarian). It would be totally fun and casual to just hang out with him and talk over some casual food and then go back to playing games afterwards.
He would absolutely try to win something out of a claw machine for you. And maybe it's luck or his arcade skills coming into play, but he got you the cute plushy that you wanted on his first try, and he plucks it out of the slot and hands it over to you with a huge smile on his face, telling you that it's a special present for you. (It's something that you treasure closely for the rest of your life.)
(Also, if he couldn't win you something from the claw machine, he would get his arm stuck in the slot reaching up from the bottom trying to get the plushy you wanted.) (Because he genuinely thought it was a good idea.)
Gar is the type of person who spews a lot of nerdy facts - he loves infodumping (it's one of his love languages), and he ends up telling you the lore behind every character in the games, the origin of every arcade cabinet, and general fun facts about every single game you play. You can't help but to soak it up, lovingly listening to everything he says and falling more for him with every single word he speaks.
If you tell him that there's a character or a game that you prefer, then he will double down on speaking lore about them, and he will even find a way to relate them back to you and your life as a compliment. ("Well, that character is super cute, just like you are.")
If there's some type of shooting game or something where you have to use a fake gun and practice your aim, Gar would not use it as an excuse to put moves on you. In fact, he would be surprised when you wrapped your arms around him from behind and put your hands around his as he held the plastic gun - and he would be far too busy with the distraction of the butterflies in his stomach and the heat rising in his face to even pay attention to what you were saying about a cheat to shoot more zombies. (If asked, he wouldn't have said that it was intentional flirting. He would have said that it was a correction of his technique that made his stomach flip.) (Nobody tell him.)
When the night is over, he will insist on walking you home. He wants to make sure you get home safely, and even though he's absolutely not expecting a goodnight kiss - he likes you a lot and he turns into a babbling wreck when you pull him close by the front of his jacket and capture his lips in yours for the first time.
Basically - a first date with him would be something straight out a romcom. Sweet, fun, and absolutely memorable in your relationship.
DC Titans Masterlist
#sundrop writes#requests#requested#gar logan#garfield logan x reader#garfield logan#gar logan x reader#dc titans#dc titans fanfiction#titans#hbo titans#titans x reader#titans fanfiction#dc fanfiction
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explanations under the cut
Elizabeth Afton is actually the Youngest Sibling - as @birdsareblooming pointed out, when we see her room in fnaf4, she has a torn-apart mangle toy. mangle was stated to be made to entertain toddlers. would also explain why she's not in the gameplay, she's at daycare/with her mom
The Vengeful Spirit is Michael Afton - another one where cori convinced me and I might have an entire essay that I will publish after I finally sit down and edit through the Security Logbook section but until then here's a bullet point post
Mimic = Burntrap - i dont think i have to explain this we're all talking about it i just know people are gonna be mad at me for it
The Girl in Drowning is representative of Charlie, not Cassidy - She's literally got gray skin, black hair, gray clothes, and neon green lighting, much like a certain gray-skinned black-haired pixel girl with a green bracelet who died in the rain (water motif). Her dragging Kara down because she doesn't want to be alone could be seen as a metaphor for Charlie trying to give life but instead kinda sticking them all in robots
FNAF AR had some BANGIN re-skins - come on. look at them. Clockwork Ballora? Bangin. Broiler Baby? Bangin. Catrina Toy Chica? BANGIN. Springtrap as an actual fucking clown???? BANGIN.
Vanessa is an Afton in the Gameverse, too – Cori's workin on a whole explanation diagram for this but the most BASIC evidence is "her last name starts with 'a' and she's a nepo baby." I dont think she's William's DIRECT daughter cause man died in the 90s and she was 23 in the 2030s so. grandkid or smth
If Edwin/David is a metaphor for anything it's William/CC and not Henry/Charlie – listen i understand the whole "single dad building the robots and then breaking one in a rage" thing from TSE but also the mimic likes to mimic its creator and child before all else and who is it mimicking? afton and the little boy in sb who happens to look a shitton like cc. also game!charlie is never indicated as having a special plushie that followed her everywhere but cc very certainly did and hey if mimic can grow and shrink to fit in anything whos to say it didnt shrink into the fredbear to repeat stock phrases to cc such as "tomorrow is another day." also in the character encyclopedia art of cc he is holding his fredbear plush the same way burntrap positions his arm to imitate holding something. an
They're not gonna pull the Charliebot twist again. Nobody's a secret robot – first off from a writing perspective that's not the kinda twist you do twice. second off with the... less than stellar reception to the twist in the first place i dont think theyre gonna pull it again
"Cassidy" isn't the Golden Freddy Kid's name, it's Crying Child's – the logbook has Crying Child communicate through manipulating the text, while the spirit he's talking to speaks in faint writing; the second spirit never has a confirmed identity, but CC is most definite considering the stuff referenced around him. The "ITS ME CASSIDY" is revealed through.... manipulated text. The clues are in........ manipulated text. "It's Me" is CC calling out to Michael. The other spirit says "My name is..." a couple times BUT they also ask CC if he remembers his name just a few pages before. Granted this might just be us not understanding something but also if Cassidy is CC's name then who the fuck is Golden Freddy Kid. is Michael Brooks still canon
The nightmare gas didn't "ruin the lore" it's just kinda funny – look guys literally all of this lore is fucked, the fact they just threw in "also William Afton was doing nightmare gas experiments on kidnapped kids and then abandoned it for shits and giggles" in the eighth book of their second anthology series and then moving on like nothing happened while the fanbase collapses in on itself is like THE funniest thing they could've done
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Ashen Wolf Byleth & Teen Dad Yuri
The blade fell, and the beautiful ghost stepped away. “We don’t like surface people here. If you two are plotting anything, I’ll kill you.”
She said it so simply and easily, as if Dimitri’s death would be the work of nature or the Goddess and not her own two hands. Dimitri turned around, heart jumping into the throat, and met the eyes of his beautiful ghost for the first time.
The girl was solid, real, and around his age. She was wearing a strange, bastardized version of the Academy uniform, silver and embroidered with a strange symbol over the heart. Her hair gleamed navy blue and her lace stockings barely hid her defined thigh muscles. Her grip on her sword was excellent and her stance spoke of barely restrained power. The woman could kill him in a flash, and the stroke that cut his throat would shine like moonlight.
Like Dimitri loved a long fall and short impact, like he loved the light at the end of the tunnel, like he loved betting all in on the longest chances, Dimitri fell in love instantly.
I need to update Weekenders but there's about twenty reasons why I haven't done it yet. But while I've been posting it I've been writing a shitton of other stuff, only some of which is decent, so I thought I'd post the beginnings of this story while I finish up the New Game+ Claude POV fic. This is most of what exists so far, and I probably won't finish it. Writing Dimitri's POV actively made me feel more insane as a person.
TW for references and flashbacks to Yuri's canon past. Around 15k of an absolutely demented Dimitri, a deeply smarmy Claude, a disturbingly feral Byleth, and a Yuri who is just doing his best under the cut.
i.
Dimitri was rapidly growing obsessed with the beautiful ghost.
He tried to confess to his colleagues in the Blue Lions, but they just gave him sympathetic eyes and confiscated his training sword. A typical lack of faith in their leader, but Dimitri had to accept that it was well deserved. He was perfectly aware that Felix, Sylvain, Dedue, and Ingrid didn’t believe in ghosts, much less beautiful ones. Mercedes, Ashe, and Annette believed whole-heartedly in ghosts, but they thought he was being weird about it. So Dimitri was silenced, ostensibly for his own good. It was for his own good - future kings couldn’t exactly run around talking about beautiful ghosts - but it still felt like an odd form of betrayal.
And he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. If only he had proof, Sylvain would make fun of him just a little bit less. All he had to do was be patient and wait for his time to come. Sylvain would see. They’d all see.
The time came sooner than expected, with unexpected company. Dimitri and Claude were walking back from an important (Edelgard’s words) and mind-numbingly boring (Claude’s words) administrative meeting when he saw her again. They were walking a side path along the very edge of the monastery, using it as a shortcut between the main building and their own dormitory, and in the thick night their solitude was complete. Complete save for a shadow in the distance, darting from the forest and across the path like a minnow in a stream.
Dimitri dropped his books in shock. Claude stopped short, raising an eyebrow at him.
“What’s -”
“It’s her!” Dimitri cried. “That’s her! Hey - miss, please wait!”
The books and company were no longer important. Dimitri set off after her at a run, only barely aware that Claude was hot on his tail. As always, the ghost disappeared almost instantly - she crossed the path and dove into the tall shrubbery against the stone walls of the monastery, where she disappeared. Dimitri had seen her appear from the ground and disappear into walls before, only barely visible from the corner of his eyes, and every time she slipped like water from his fingers.
This time was no different. Dimitri skidded to a halt at her disappearing point, pushing aside thick branches in a desperate search for terrestrial beauty. There was nobody and nothing - the girl had walked straight into the monastery walls. Foiled again.
“Dammit!” Dimitri yelled. Claude’s eyebrows jumped up. “I was so close that time!”
“You know curse words? I owe Hilda a hundred gold.” Claude poked his head over Dimitri’s shoulder, watching his desperate search without helping whatsoever. “What was all of that about? Did you see someone?”
“Didn’t you?” But Dimitri already knew the answer, even as he said it - nobody ever saw her but him. “I’ve been seeing this girl since I arrived at Garreg Mach. She appears from thin air and disappears into nothing. I suspect she may be a ghost. I’ve searched high and low for her, but I haven’t been able to find her. And she slips through my fingers again!”
Claude hummed, scratching his chin. “Now that you mention it, maybe I did see a figure…”
Dimitri rocketed upwards, snapping several branches. He whirled on Claude, who took a large step back. “You did? Was she short, wearing silver clothing, unmistakably beautiful?”
Claude held up both hands in a plea for innocence. “...it looked kind of humanoid?” Figures. Dimitri turned back around, scanning the area again. If he could just follow her trail - maybe there would be a scent of death? Of ozone? Of the unknown? “Hey, if it matters that much to you then I’ll help you look. Can’t afford to rule anything out - even ghosts.”
“You’re a true friend, Your Grace,” Dimitri said seriously. Claude nodded back, equally seriously. “And even if she isn’t a ghost, an unknown person at Garreg Mach is highly suspect. She doesn’t seem to wear a habit, armor, or a uniform. It’s our responsibility as leaders to investigate mysteries like this.”
“Uh huh.” Claude slipped into the thicket with him, easily fitting into the barren spots where Dimitri already accidentally snapped off all the branches. Dimitri was already seriously knocking on the castle walls, searching for secret passages or weaknesses. “But not to tell a staff member?”
“I decided a while ago that I could handle this on my own,” Dimitri said stiffly. Wasn’t like anybody was willing to help him, anyway. “Some endeavors are personal.”
“I know that feeling.” Claude hummed, and Dimitri heard the distinct screech of metal scraping on metal. “So are you this invested because of the ghost thing or the beautiful thing?”
“With the potential non-invited guest at Garreg Mach thing, Your Grace.”
A terrible grinding sound split the night, and Dimitri winced. He was a bit sensitive to unexpected loud noises. Felix knew, and liked to sneak up on him and yell in his ear. “I’m a future duke and you’re a future king, Your Highness, I think you’re meant to speak less formally to me.”
“We’re both future leaders of our respective countries,” Dimitri said seriously. “Isn’t that more important than a discrepancy in titles? I’d like to show respect to you as it befits your station, not your title.”
More awful screeching filled the air, accompanied by a final grinding scream and a muffled thump. “Is that why you’re the only person who calls Petra ‘Your Highness’? I think that’s why you’re the only guy in this school she approves of.”
“Really?” Dimitri asked, pleased. Politeness always paid off! “I simply think it’s disrespectful to treat her as anything less than royalty simply because she is here as a political hostage - an outdated practice that I believe - I’m sorry, what’s that sound?”
“Oh, just opening a secret passage.”
“I see. I just think it’s an outdated practice that ought to be illegalized, and just between you and me I actually highly disapprove of - I’m sorry, a what?”
Dimitri turned around from his fruitless inspection of the wall for the first time and saw Claude squatting nearby. He had cut away the brambles surrounding the area with the tip of an arrow he pulled from somewhere, and a large manhole was resting on the grass next to him. He was currently sticking his head down a dark hole of indeterminable depth. Dimitri hadn’t even noticed a manhole!
Well. If the beautiful woman was a beautiful ghost, then she had undoubtedly gone through the wall. But if the beautiful woman was an everyday extremely attractive girl, then the manhole might be how she had escaped so quickly.
Finally, a lead! A path towards her! Dimitri did not know why he was a little disappointed. Was he secretly hoping she’d be a ghost? That would be a little impractical. Maybe he was just upset Claude had found it?
Claude popped his head back up, upside-down braid swinging back against his cheek. “Now isn’t this interesting?” For the first time, Claude seemed invested. “The sewer system doesn’t run underneath this path. So what’s an access point to the sewers doing right here?”
“...why do you know the sewer layout of Garreg Mach?”
“I’m a fan of a good mystery,” Claude said, completely ignoring the question. Perhaps. “How do you feel about a little exploration on this fine moonlit night?”
Oh no. Dimtiri abruptly felt a little anxious. “Your Grace, I don’t believe students are allowed in the Garreg Mach sewer systems.”
“What if it’s not the Garreg Mach sewer system?”
“That may be less allowed.” A little awkwardly, Dimitri added, “And I really wouldn’t want to accidentally break a rule and get in trouble.”
Claude gave him a look of blatant disgust. Dimitri hung his head in shame.
Finally, Claude took pity on him. He sighed and clapped Dimitri’s shoulder - once in camaraderie, twice in sympathy. “Your Highness. Are you really going to let some little rules get in the way of you and your soulmate?”
Dimitri perked up. Putting it like that…and he really didn’t want to look uncool in front of Claude, who was probably the coolest person at the school… “I suppose Lady Rhea would understand if it’s for the sake of love…”
“Attaboy.” Claude shoved roughly at Dimitri’s shoulder, pushing him into the hole. “Now let’s dive into the sewers. Lords first!”
Thankfully, Dimitri wasn’t obligated to fall down a hole face first. There was a wooden ladder descending downwards, warped and fragile from the damp air, and although Dimitri descended into the dark with no hesitation he had to force himself to move slowly and grip the fragile rungs with utmost care.
The darkness was absolute, and Dimitri and Claude navigated by feel. They climbed for what felt like ages, and Dimitri’s absolute concentration made the period of time span even longer. Claude prattled on above his head with some random thoughts and observations, but Dimitri was focusing too hard on the ladder to register what he was saying.
A boot knocked him on the head. Dimitri’s hands spasmed, crushing the rung into splinters, and his grip was completely lost. Dimitri bent backwards a terrifying foot before he righted himself and regained his balance, grabbing the side of the ladder and swinging himself heavily downwards. Of course, that broke the side of the ladder, and suddenly Claude was yelling a great deal of expletives as one side of his ladder began to slide downwards.
“Let’s readjust our approach,” Dimitri said mildly. He changed his grip to grab the two sides of the ladder, his metal gauntlets digging into the wood. “Get ready to slide, Your Grace.”
“Are you nuts -”
Dimitri kicked off, taking his feet off the rungs and loosening his grip on the sides. His slide downwards was alarmingly fast, and he could feel the musty air rise up to meet him. Claude was still yelling, his voice echoing up the empty tunnel, and a familiar wave of adrenaline rose to wash Dimitri’s mind clean.
He couldn’t help but grin. The wind tousling his hair, the swooping sensation in his stomach, the possibility of death and the high probability of injury - a recipe for excitement. Dimitri’s favorite sort of excitement - the sort that cleared out all of the nasty little thoughts that clouded his mind day to day, that made him forget all of his problems and memories and wounds and that focused him onto the present moment. It was a thrill that conquered all ills, and it was more or less the only time that Dimitri was ever happy.
His professor didn’t like that about him. Before Garreg Mach, Felix was the only person who was aware of Dimitri’s little addiction, but the Blue Lions professor had sniffed Dimitri out fast and never stopped giving him a hard time about it. Dimitri honestly didn’t think it was the professor’s business, but he knew they did not agree regarding that fact. It didn’t matter - Dimitri wasn’t about to change.
A light sprung from the darkness, and Dimitri immediately kicked his heels against the ladder and slowed his descent. The light brightened as Dimitri fell, and he was able to make out a hard-packed dirt floor just in time to bend his knees and soften his landing. The impact still rattled his legs down to the bone, but he hadn’t sprained anything.
Dimitri immediately jumped backwards, watching Claude come to the same conclusion and slow his descent. Unlike Dimitri, he didn’t stick the landing - he fell in an ungainly heap on the floor, gasping for breath and groaning. His hair was wildly mussed, and he looked a little green. His cape had ripped off his shoulders, and was currently hanging like a defeated flag several feet above their heads.
“What is wrong with you.”
Goddess, they’d be here all day. “You’re the one who kicked my head.” Dimitri wiped the splinters off his gauntleted hand, extending it down to Claude. Claude squinted at him in increasingly ill-hidden hatred. “Come on, have a little adventurous spirit. I thought you were here to explore the unknown?”
Claude pushed himself upwards, and Dimitri silently curled his hand and returned it to his side. Figured that Claude wouldn’t want to touch him. An expected reaction, honestly. “Sure I am. Now our way out of here is unknown too. Guess we have no choice but to press onwards.”
“I’ll lead the way,” Dimitri said - perhaps betraying the fact that he had no intention of going backwards. “I believe we’re already out of the woods. Look yonder - see the exit?”
There was, indeed, an exit. They had landed in a narrow rectangular room, and there was clearly a door at the far corner where the right wall intersected the back wall. Light shone from within, and Dimitri eagerly led them forwards towards the light.
He could even hear sounds, signs of life - the distant coursing of a river, and a familiar quiet symphony of sounds. They were the sounds of life - a soundscape of an ordinary day at the marketplace at the base of Garreg Mach, marked by shuffling feet and quiet voices.
“Is that people?” Dimitri whispered, excited. “What are people doing this far underground?”
“Is that people?” Claude whispered, incredulous. “Does Rhea know about this?”
“Perhaps they’re ghosts!”
But Claude just shook his head, and for the first time he seemed a little grim. He sped up, walking briskly until he overtook Dimitri. Dimitri fell back, letting him take the lead, and listened curiously as Claude muttered under his breath. Dimitri couldn’t make out the words at all - too quiet, perhaps.
“Ghosts!” Claude hissed. “Perhaps they’re ghosts, that’s fun, not dangerous -”
“Maybe they’re an army of ghosts,” Dimitri volunteered. Claude hissed something that sounded suspiciously similar to the Almyran term for the Fodlan ethnic group. He probably mishead. “Honestly, Claude, what happened to your thirst for adventure -”
“I thought I would get to see Dimitri Blaiddyd stomp through some sewers for an hour! I didn’t expect to stumble into real life people!” Claude stopped at the entryway, peering forward into the cavernous expanse beyond them. Dimitri stopped too. Quite involuntarily. “Holy - that’s a settlement! What is a settlement doing underneath - that’s a village! There’s no way Rhea doesn’t know about that. What else is that woman hiding?”
Dimitri coughed, frozen perfectly still. Cold steel kissed his neck. “Ah. Er. Some help?”
Claude ignored him, steadily working himself up. Dimitri had never seen Claude actually unbalanced before. It was unsettling. “Just when I thought I had five percent of that woman figured out, she pulls the rug on me again. I’ll never get anything good out of her this way. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might have to fall back on the B&E plan -”
“Some help, Claude!”
Instantly, Claude said, “What B&E plan?”
“Don’t move,” the beautiful ghost said.
Claude turned around.
Dimitri had to assume it was the beautiful ghost. The sword was raised against his neck upwards, showing that the wielder had to significantly lift her arm to hold it. The voice was unmistakably a woman’s, light and delicate and young. It wasn’t ethereal - rather, it was solid, as solid as the steel against his skin - but there was still something otherworldly about it.
Claude stared at Dimitri, wide-eyed. His eyes traveled downwards - yes, the ghost had to be short - and he froze just as solid as Dimitri for a flat second before he relaxed. Over Claude’s shoulder, Dimitri could see the settlement stretching out before him - at the lean-tos and tents and shacks, at the people in rags milling about who were already beginning to stop and stare. The underground people were dirty, and the underground village was filthier. Dimitri immediately saw some elderly hugging the walls, and more foreigners.
Undoubtedly, Claude had seen what Dimitri saw. Claude was currently ahead of him - he was staring at the beautiful ghost with mouth agape, eyes wide. A hot flash of jealousy burst in Dimitri’s chest. Claude got to see the ghost’s face before he did! How incredibly unfair!
“Hello, there. Sorry for…uh, dropping in.” Claude slowly raised his hands, showing himself unarmed. Dimitri wondered where he had stashed his extra arrows. “We…come in peace?”
The sword at his neck flashed. It was well-kept, but clearly old and cheap. “Who are you with.”
“We’re not with anybody!” Claude said hurriedly. Bizarrely, he had immediately adopted an accent - a thick, regional Almyran accent, coarse and rough. “Please, ma’am, stay your sword. Don’t you have any idea who you’re holding hostage? He’s a very important person. If he goes missing your entire house will be endangered. It’s safest for everybody if you just let him go.”
The blade stilled. “...is he rich?”
“Oh, very! I know people who would pay thousands for his safe return!”
“What did I expect,” Dimitri muttered.
“And who are you?” the beautiful ghost asked. “Are you rich too?”
“I am but this man’s humble aide!” Claude said instantly. He bowed flamboyantly, with a distinctive Almyran flair. “A loyal and devoted servant am I, to His Royal Highness! My ten brothers and sisters wouldn’t have two coppers to scavenge together to pay a ransom, honest! Tell you what, tell you what - let me help!” Claude straightened, pulling out his most roguish and charismatic smile. “Let’s be friends, Fodlan beauty. Give me your demands, and I’ll deliver them straight upwards all the way to the top. I’ll be back with thousands! You can give the pale boy back later. If you want. How about it?”
The sword wavered. The ghost spoke again, her voice laced with doubt. “You’re both wearing the Academy uniform. Brother did say that the prince was attending school this year.”
“Beautiful and good intel sources! Surely you’ve heard of me, the Almyran vassal that follows around the prince and attends school with him?”
Dubiously, the ghost said, “Brother says that the vassal’s Duscuran…”
“I am disappointed that your brother cannot tell the difference between the Duscur and Almyran people!”
“It’s not like that…”
Claude promptly said something in - Almyran? When did Claude learn Almyran? The ghost said something back in Almyran, undoubtedly dubious. Claude pointed at Dimitri’s shoulder, showcasing Dimitri’s fine cape, and then at his own - and the distinct lack of yellow cape, which was probably still pinned to the ladder. The beautiful ghost murmured in assent - obviously Claude was a poor vassal, not a rich king, see his complete lack of cape.
The beautiful ghost said something, and Claude’s eyes sharpened. He grinned and bowed even lower - a vassal to a princess.
In the Fodlan language, Claude said, “Then His Highness and his loyal vassal would be honored to hold an audience with the lady’s esteemed brother.”
“You talk stupid.”
“You would really get along with my best friend, my lady.”
“I’m not your anything.” The blade fell, and the beautiful ghost stepped away. “We don’t like surface people here. If you two are plotting anything, I’ll kill you.”
She said it so simply and easily, as if Dimitri’s death would be the work of nature or the Goddess and not her own two hands. Dimitri turned around, heart jumping into the throat, and met the eyes of his beautiful ghost for the first time.
The girl was solid, real, and around his age. She was wearing a strange, bastardized version of the Academy uniform, silver and embroidered with a strange symbol over the heart. Her hair gleamed navy blue and her lace stockings barely hid her defined thigh muscles. Her grip on her sword was excellent and her stance spoke of barely restrained power. The woman could kill him in a flash, and the stroke that cut his throat would shine like moonlight.
Like Dimitri loved a long fall and short impact, like he loved the light at the end of the tunnel, like he loved betting all in on the longest chances, Dimitri fell in love instantly.
“Night night,” the love of Dimitri’s life said, before hitting him on the back of his head with the pommel of her sword, drawing black curtains over Dimitri’s eyes.
__________
Dimitri sat in an office. A rather inauspicious turn in this kidnapping saga.
He was sitting down because his head still hurt. He wished he was standing and showing his future brother-in-law the respect he deserved, but his future brother-in-law insisted that he tend to his probable concussion and sit. Dimitri wanted to protest - the man had already personally healed him, and his head didn’t hurt any more than usual - but the man seemed stressed enough, so Dimitri sat obediently in front of his desk. In an office. In an underground slum funded by the church. Which existed. Was that what taxpayer money was going towards?
Yuri explained the entire situation to him and Claude as he healed the bump and gash on Dimitri’s skull. For a given value of ‘entire’ - so far, Dimitri mostly just understood that the church organized a homeless encampment underground that accepted any members unconditionally and functioned roughly like its own little nation. The main encampment of Abyss was Garreg Mach itself - a basement floor of the monastery that had sunken into the ground after some unfortunate geographical events around seven hundred years ago. Dimitri wanted to ask if it was a possible problem that Garreg Mach was located in a sinkhole, but Yuri didn’t leave much time for questions.
The name of the slum was Abyss, and its inhabitants had little contact with the outside world. There were children in Abyss who had never stood in the sun, and infirm who hadn’t felt the sun’s warmth since they were well. Apparently the few inhabitants who regularly left Abyss used one of a series of secret passages in Garreg Mach, with entrances and exits that spanned the width of the monastery. These secret passages were very well-hidden, and an Abyssan well-versed in their usage could disappear and reappear throughout the monastery like…a ghost.
They didn’t have visitors very often. Not many people knew about Abyss, and strangely enough the people in the loop didn’t care to visit a damp, filthy underground slum. They had even fewer Academy students fall down manholes and stumble into this inverted land of wonder. Hence why the sight of Dimitri and Claude caused certain Abyssans to panic. With their swords.
These Abyssans were named Byleth, which was a lovely name. Potentially alliterative, too.
“Your Highness.” Yuri was gritting his teeth together. “I am…so sorry.”
“No harm done,” Dimitri said instantly. He wanted to express to Yuri that it was actually a great honor to be harmed by his sister, but he didn’t know how to say that in a normal way. “We were the intruders, after all. Byleth was just defending her home.” He turned to Byleth, who was standing stiffly behind her brother in a perfect match to Claude’s stiff stance behind Dimitri. Dimitri had barely taken his eyes off her, and yet she had failed to make a single facial expression. Fascinating. “Your swordplay was incredible, by the way. The way you held that sword to my throat was impeccable. I assume you’ve been professionally trained.”
“Here and there.” Byleth looked pleased, making Dimitri feel like a star. She pointed awkwardly at the silver sword at Dimitri’s hip. It was the same old sword Dimitri always had - some antique of the royal family, passed down from generation to generation. “I like your sword.”
Instantly, Dimitri said, “Thank you! Do you want it?”’
Byleth hummed. Yuri’s eyes widened a fraction, and Claude stifled a groan. “My sword is pretty old…”
“Here, take it.” Dimtiri immediately undid his belt and handed the sword over to her, belt and sheath and all. She held it up and admired it, testing its weight. Yuri’s jaw clenched. “Consider it my apology for following you uninvited into your home.”
Byleth nodded, twirling the sword easily in her hands. It was tremendously attractive. “Apology accepted. We’re even.” Her mouth twitched infinitesimally into something that may be loosely deemed a smile. Yuri’s eyes widened severely. “Thank you.”
Dimitri looked away, coughing. His face felt like it was going to melt off. “You’re welcome. It - ah, it suits you.”
“Do you think so?” Byleth asked, pleased. Perhaps. It was very hard to tell. Her voice was in a very strict monotone, but their deep spiritual connection meant that Dimitri could vibe these things out. “It does match my outfit.”
Dimitri would never be able to think of silver again without thinking of her. “I’m hono -”
“Your Highness.” Yuri’s voice hadn’t changed; nor had his words. His expression didn’t seem any different and his body language hadn’t shifted. But something about him was far now far less welcoming - something was different, all the same. “We’re very grateful for your gift, and for the forgiveness you’ve extended towards us regarding what happened. But it would be highly irresponsible of me to keep you here any longer. Abyss isn’t safe for somebody like you and your…vassal.”
“Khalid, sir.” Claude winked loudly at Dimitri, making absolutely certain that Dimitri understood that Claude was giving a fake foreign name. Yes, Dimitri picked up on that. “Really, wonderful place you have here. Very chic. Couldn’t possibly be that unsafe - if we had a good tour guide.”
Frostily, Yuri said, “I’ll have some scouts escort you back topside immediately. I’m certain Lady Rhea is looking for you.”
“It took her three days to notice that I tossed Lindhardt into a well, so I’m certain we have at least that long.” Claude leaned forward eagerly. “Who founded this place? Whose idea was it? Why is it underground?”
“Somebody who is no longer with us,” Yuri said, curt and even. “I’m the leader of Abyss now. And as the leader, it’s my responsibility to get future leaders of Fodlan back to their cozy beds.”
Claude flapped an easy hand. “Sure, let’s get the future leader of Fodlan back to bed. But this humble vassal’s awfully interested in this operation you’re running. Don’t suppose you could allow me to run around a bit? Check some things out? See your tax records?”
“I think even vassals have someplace to be, Khalid.”
“Why are you saying his name like that?” Byleth asked Yuri. She paused a beat. “Never mind. I don’t care.”
“There’s a great deal of places this vassal should be,” Claude said cheerfully, “but I think there’s only one place where I have to be.” He easily slid into the unoccupied chair next to Dimitri, leaning forward and folding his hands on Yuri’s desk. He had to nudge apart several scrolls of parchment and pieces of paper to do it - the man’s desk was stacked with forms, work, and quills. “Let’s put our cards on the table, huh? There’s a lot the church doesn’t tell us peons, Yuri. I’m willing to bet you know a lot of it. So in exchange for you telling me what you know, I don’t tell Lady Rhea what I know about a certain somebody trying to lop off the head of the future king of Faerghus. Sound good to you?”
Yuri crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, one thin purple eyebrow arching. “You have a lot to learn about the art of the deal, kid. What will Rhea say when she learns that Prince Dimitri and Duke Claude were out past curfew skulking around slums?”
“Duke Claude’s happily asleep in his warm bed, and every member of his House is sufficiently paid to corroborate that story.” Claude smiled winningly. “Khalid is a humble vassal interested in touring your fine slum. Khalid might also have some other gossip that you might be interested in.”
“Like what, kid?”
Claude’s grin widened. “I might tell you tomorrow morning. After my visit.”
Yuri was silent. His eyes flickered to Dimtiri, then to Claude. He glanced at his sister. “By, wait outside?”
Byleth nodded and exited the room. Dimtiri yearned for her achingly. But Yuri just straightened, face as blank and unreadable as his sister’s, and said something to Claude in Almyran.
For the first time, Claude was struck off balance. He looked at Dimitri, eyes wide, then back at Yuri. He said something empathetically, shaking his head, but Yuri just responded curtly.
In the Fodlan language, Claude said, “On the honor of my father and mother, no. I’m not trying to -”
“Really?” Yuri said. “You’re a novice at this con artist thing, kid. You’re too rich to do it well. Word of advice - don’t smile like you’re hiding something, smile like you’re keeping a secret.”
Claude pulled back a little, and Dimitri saw that he was almost pouting. “You don’t know me.”
“I know things about you that you don’t know about yourself.” Yuri looked at Dimitri, expression gentle and soft and bland. Like sheep’s wool, or dandelion fluff on the breeze. “Do you want to hang around Abyss a little longer too, Your Highness?”
Images of Byleth wielding his silver sword, flicking the blade in a deadly dance, spun through Dimitri’s mind. If he left Abyss now and never saw her again he would lose what little scrap of will to live he had left. Dimitri couldn’t keep losing good things. He was running out.
“Yes!” Dimitri said - a bit too quickly, a bit too empathetically. He coughed, forcing himself to settle down. “I mean - yes. As a future ruler, I should see how the other half lives. It’s important for a ruler to understand the needs of all of his people.”
It was perfectly true. It wasn’t what he was thinking, but it was perfectly true. Dimitri had the faint notion that perhaps he and Claude were missing the point of something important, something much bigger than them - than Claude’s secrets or Dimitri’s love story - but the allure of secrets and love was fairly overpowering at the moment.
Easily, as easily as he said everything else, Yuri said, “My sister’s not on the market to entertain you. I can steer plenty of other lovely ladies or gentlemen your way, but she’s a little busy with her own work.” Yuri tilted his head, looking at Dimitri through half-lidded eyes. Dimitri flushed a little. “If you insist, I’d be happy to spare some time for you. But I’m afraid my sister is just too busy.”
Claude stood up, chair skidding against the hard stone. “I just put my family’s name on this! As -” Claude said something quickly in Almyran, which completely flew over Dimitri’s head. “ - I am vouching for Prince Dimitri. I wouldn’t even say that for me, but I can sure as hell say it for him. You can trust us.”
Yuri’s face was unchanged. “I’ve heard that one before.”
And although Dimitri didn’t understand half the conversation - although he knew that there was subtext he wasn’t getting, that there were things about the world he just couldn’t see - he understood the right thing to do well enough for now. Standing in the midst of Abyss, it was clear.
Dimitri stood up, bowing low at Yuri. “I apologize for our intrusion. I see that my classmate and I have overstayed our welcome. I have no desire to add to the heavy burdens you and your village already bear. Please, if you can help escort us back to the surface, we’d be very grateful.”
When Dimtiri straightened, he saw a peculiar look on Yuri’s face. It was a little thoughtful, and a lot of another foreign emotion. “What will you do now that you know we’re here?”
“Ask Rhea how we can help,” Dimitri said immediately. Left implied: and confess to our wrongdoings, like good children. “Or you, if you’re amenable. Abyss is not located within my lands, but I am aware that many places like Abyss reside in the darkness of Faerghus. If I can do anything for you now - learn what you can teach me - then I consider it education on how to provide for my subjects in the future.”
“He’s sincere,” Claude said firmly. He stood up too, thumping his heart with a closed fist. “I haven’t been sincere since the poisoned fig incident, but I can swear too. We just want to help. So let us help - it can’t be every day you have two future leaders of Fodlan asking you what we can do for you.”
Yuri stared at them for a long few seconds, expression glazed smooth and unreadable, before he finally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I suppose you want my sister as a tour guide.”
“You just said she’s busy,” Dimitri asked, tilting his head in confusion. “I assumed she wouldn’t be available to show us around.”
Yuri narrowed his eyes - damn, the man was impeccable. Dimitri had attempted one subtle fib and he was caught out immediately. But the lie served its purpose, and something subtle in Yuri’s shoulders untensed. Dimitri hadn’t realized that they were tense at all.
Yuri opened his mouth and said -
“Boss! Did we really kidnap the prince of Faerghus?”
The door thumped open with such immense force that it smacked against the far wall. A truly giant man strode inside, followed closely on his heels by a blonde woman wearing an unsettling smile and a short dark-skinned woman picking at a cuticle. On the tail end of the party was Byleth. She nodded at Dimitri, who nodded back in a daze.
“I told them you were busy,” Byleth said serenely.
“Yeah, busy with His Royal Highness!” The large man stopped in front of Dimitri and carefully scrutinized him from head to toe. Dimitri allowed himself to be scrutinized. “Damn! What are they feeding you Academy kids these days? You’re solid muscle. Not as much as me, but not bad either!”
Dimitri fought the urge to sweat. The women flanked the big guy, blinking at him curiously. “I train frequently.”
“Really? Guess Bye-Bye’s found another freak.” The dark-skinned woman yawned, nodding at Byleth as she stood at her brother’s side. “You should hang out. Hit each other with swords or whatever.”
“Greetings to His Royal Highness and friend!” the blonde woman yelled, almost at the top of her voice. She put her hands on her hips, lifting her chin in the air. “Welcome to the home of Constance von Nuvelle! Our decor may be lacking, but our hospitality is second to none!”
“Really?” the other woman drawled. “I think the rats add some pizazz.”
“Silly Hapi! The rats are disgusting!”
“Bye-Bye eats garbage too, but we don’t give her a hard time about it.”
“Hospitality, huh?” Yuri smiled, and for the first time it seemed a little real. “Balthus, obviously you don’t have anything more important going on. Can you host our two noble young visitors? Who we didn’t kidnap?”
“We were a little kidnapped,” Claude said.
Balthus grinned, propping a hand on a hip. “I dunno, are you paying me?”
Quickly, Dimitri added, “We’ll compensate you for your efforts, of course.”
“Wait,” the dark-skinned woman asked the room, “are we holding you hostage? Because it sounds like we’re holding you hostage.”
“Sold, kid!” Balthus thumped a friendly hand on Dimtiri’s back. He didn’t stumble, which seemed to shock Balthus before he withdrew his hand and quickly covered up the motion. “You look like a good hand with a weapon. Not you, Almyran guy, you look like a wimp.” Claude narrowed his eyes, but Balthus just looked backwards at Byleth. “You should spar with our new friend, Byleth. I’ll finally get to see you knock a different musclehead on the ground!”
Constance squealed, clapping her hands. “Byleth and the new children can play together! Oh, how heartwarming! Socialization is a rare opportunity for Bylie indeed!” She looked at Yuri and stage whispered, “We cannot afford to lose this chance, Yuri!”
“Byleth doesn’t know a lot of kids her own age,” the dark-skinned woman told Dimitri and Claude. “She’s…a little awkward.”
Byleth blinked at them.
“Wow,” Claude muttered, “you don’t say.”
“I forgive you for holding a sword to my neck,” Dimitri said earnestly. “You were doing the right thing.”
“Seriously, are we holding you hostage or not?”
Yuri’s eye twitched. But his posture had fully loosened, and the presence of the strangers seemed to make him breathe a little easier. “We aren’t. And Byleth isn't a puppy we need to socialize, Hapi. You know how noble boys are.”
“Noble boy and his loyal vassal,” Claude added quickly, sticking stubbornly to the bit. Dimitri had no idea why, but Claude rarely vocalized his reasons for doing anything. “What do you think, Byleth? Want to hang out with us, or want to stay with your brother?”
Byleth stared at both of them unblinkingly. Finally, after a long few seconds of thought, Byleth said, “I want to train with Dimitri.”
Hapi shot a canny look at Yuri. “Balthus’ll supervise. Connie and I too, if you want.”
For a long second Dimitri thought Yuri was going to say no anyway. Dimitri would have accepted it. It would have robbed Dimitri of the only good thing left in his life, but he would have accepted it. Good things came and left all of the time, and part of life was learning how to deal with that. Dimitri liked to fancy himself an expert in it. He could lose one more thing - one flash of hope.
But Yuri only sighed. “Alright. Supervised. Now get out of my office, all of you, I’m far too busy to juggle nobility on top of everything else.” Claude perked up. “All of you. You want to talk about Rhea - we’ll do it after dinner.”
“Understood!” Claude bowed at Yuri again, and Dimitri hastily copied him. “You won’t regret opening your doors to us, sir!”
“Uh-huh.” Left unsaid - he definitely already was. “Out of my office, then. I’ve been away for too long and I have a lot of work to catch up on.”
Byleth tilted her head, a frown tugging at her lips. “You should leave less often. Your work piles up. It stresses you out.”
Yuri gave her a big smile, as if he was keeping a secret. “But if I don’t leave, I’ll never experience the joy of seeing you again.”
“You’re corny, Yuri.”
“Love turns even the best of us into cornballs.” Yuri and Byleth shared a look, empty and opaque, but in that blankness Dimitri saw something far deeper than he had ever experienced. “Just look at Constance. Every time she looks at herself in the mirror she gets sillier.”
“Excuse me, my sweet Yuri -”
“You’re excused, my darling Constance.”
“Must we fight,” Hapi panned, monotone and disinterested. “We’re a family. Look. You’ll make the baby cry.”
Byleth blinked at Hapi. “But I can’t cry.”
“Look. You’ll give the baby psychological issues.”
Balthus laughed again, cracking his knuckles with a pop that echoed throughout the cramped office. “This’ll be fun! It’s been a while since we’ve had a good adventure, eh Yuri?”
“Yes,” Yuri said, “that’s altogether what I’m afraid of.”
Truthfully, at that point Dimitri was no longer listening. He was just looking at Byleth, the girl who could not cry. And Byleth looked back at him, the boy whose heart was always crying. They saw each other, the heart-burdened and the heartless, and something in one reached out to balance the other.
And although the weight of the world above them crushed Dimitri’s shoulders, although they stood within damp and filthy slums tucked into the bowels of the planet, for those precious few seconds Dimitri and Byleth existed in the world with no obligation to anybody but each other.
_____________
ii.
Yuri was sitting in this bathroom fruitlessly scrubbing blood out of his one good outfit when he received word that Lady Rhea was requesting an audience. Because it was Rhea, he also received word that she was already waiting for him in the destroyed classroom.
Damn it! He had just returned! And he didn’t have anything to wear!
In the end, he was forced to keep Lady Rhea waiting another fifteen minutes because he had to dig out an older, rattier outfit and re-do his makeup. Approach: ‘I’m in my twenties, my stare is cold and piercing, and damn it I belong in this conference room’. Then he had to waste another five minutes because his hair was a wreck and his hands still smelled like blood. By the time he finally speed-walked down the halls and skidded to a stop in front of the classroom doors Yuri was twenty minutes late and already fighting the urge to freak.
As always, he halted at the doors. He took a deep breath in, then out. His outfit was dingy, which made him feel like crap, but the power makeup helped pick up the slack. He inhaled, exhaled, shook out his limbs, and entered the classroom.
Rhea was standing in front of a blackboard, her back turned to the door. She was dressed in an old brown cloak, but with the hood down and her beautiful green hair left to flow over her shoulders the figure was unmistakable as Rhea. She was writing in beautiful and flowing script on the blackboard with a piece of stubby chalk, and speaking in a low voice to the child standing next to her. The child was staring up at her, eyes wide, chewing on a knuckle. Th child’s dark blue hair was pulled into a stubby ponytail, and she was wearing only a tattered black dress and swimming in a brown jacket sized for a large adult man.
“ - your name. See, this is the B…like ‘bye’. Can you say ‘bye’?” The child blinked owlishly up at Rhea. “That’s alright. You’ll get it. You’re doing a great job already.”
Yuri coughed, and Rhea quickly turned around. With a strange start Yuri noticed that she was dressed down even more than usual, her face plain and wearing only a simple white dress underneath the cloak. Without her own makeup, she seemed tired. She smiled wanly at Yuri, who bowed back. The child turned around too, gnawing fastidiously at her knuckle.
“Yuri. I’m sorry to call upon you again so quickly after your return. Did all go well?”
“The job was done.” Deepen your voice, sound older - sound disaffected, yet sincere. Yuri wondered if he would ever live long enough that he could stop pretending to be older. “The deceased is no longer a threat to the church.”
“He was a threat to the safety of Fodlan,” Rhea said firmly. Yuri wasn’t sure about that one, but he did appreciate Rhea’s conscientious efforts to only toss absolute bastards into his pen. “I’m afraid I must ask something of you yet again, Yuri. This is important. I cannot fully disclose to you why this mission is so important, but please trust me when I say that this is a matter extremely close to my heart.”
Yuri straightened, folding his hands behind his back. He wanted to die a bit. Another important mission? As if managing Abyss, captaining his rogues, and assassinating bastards weren’t enough missions?
How long would she keep punishing him?
But Yuri just bowed. It was no effort at all to keep his expression placid. “I can accomplish any mission you give me, my lady.”
“I know. That’s why I’m trusting you with this.” Rhea put both hands on the girl’s shoulder and squeezed. The girl squirmed uncomfortably. You and me both, kid. “Yuri, this is Byleth. Byleth, this is Yuri. Why don’t you say hi?”
Byleth stared at Yuri, gnawing on her finger. Somebody probably ought to slap those knuckles with a ruler. She wasn’t a young child - twelve or thirteen, perhaps - but the habit and the wide eyes made her seem younger.
Yuri gave her his special ‘talking to vulnerable kids’ smile. “How do you do, my lady?”
Byleth stared at Yuri. A theme.
Rhea frowned, squeezing Byleth’s shoulder one last time before dropping her hands. “She hasn’t talked much since it happened. She…doesn’t seem to remember anything.”
“Anything about what happened?”
“Anything at all. She can’t seem to recall anything about her family or her life. Darling, you ought to get your knuckle out of your mouth.” Rhea ducked her head, staring steadfastly at Byleth. The girl slowly dropped her knuckle from her mouth, looking a little spooked, before Rhea lifted her head again. “Byleth here was kidnapped. There are…some forces in Fodlan that place great value in Byleth. I don’t know how they learned about her, but they haven’t left her in peace since they found out. They’ve tried to kidnap her several times, but their latest attempt was successful. The Church knights were only able to rescue her two days ago. The knight who rescued her brought her to me immediately, and now I must bring her to you.”
“Have you spoken with Aelfric about this?”
“Of course. He’s already given his consent.” Rhea’s eyes glimmered strangely in the light. Sometimes the only emotion from that woman Yuri could truly understand was the dark depths of her sadness. “Discretion is of the utmost importance. The people after her will not give up.”
Ah. Yuri understood. “Does she have a valuable crest?”
Rhea put a hand on Byleth’s head, slowly stroking her hair. Byleth went cross-eyed looking upwards and gawking at the hand. “Byleth is a very special girl.”
Alright, so don’t tell him. “You want to hide her and her family in Abyss?”
But Rhea just shook her head, expression mournful. “Byleth is an orphan. She will be alone in Abyss. That’s why I must ask for your help, Yuri.”
In the girl’s big dark eyes Yuri saw only trouble. Abyss sheltered plenty of people in hiding, but the people after Byleth seemed to be on a different level. If hiding the girl here brought danger into Abyss, then…
Then she was still a girl who needed help. Yuri would deal with any danger as it came.
“Madame Birch will be happy to take her in.” Yuri smiled at Byleth again, taking care to crinkle his eyes and gave it positive energy. “My friend Madame Birch takes care of kids just like you, Byleth. She’ll be so excited to meet you. I know some girls her age in your house who’ve been begging me for another friend.”
But Rhea just shook her head, expression somber and firm. “The forces after Byleth are powerful. I need to place her with the strongest person in Abyss - the person most able to protect her. That’s you, Yuri. Please take her yourself.”
Ah. What?
For the first time, Yuri had to fight to keep his expression and tone still. “My lady, my workload frequently takes me out of Abyss.”
“Then I can reduce your workload.”
That perked Yuri’s ears. He was a fool for not recognizing it immediately. Rhea was desperate. Her emotional involvement in this was far greater than keeping a tool out of the hands of the enemy. Byleth had to be family somehow - maybe even a secret daughter. Having a secret daughter of Lady Rhea in Yuri’s back pocket…under his exclusive supervision…
It was a death knell if anything happened to the kid. But the leverage was too good to pass up.
Fuck, he could even negotiate right here and now. He ought to send Byleth out of the room for this, but it was important that she understood what was happening and why. As much as she seemingly could - the girl may be a little touched. It didn’t matter, obviously, but it would necessitate a change in approach.
“Well,” Yuri said slowly, “the greatest distraction from Abyss would be my jobs. I would like to stay in Abyss full-time. Give her a more consistent upbringing.”
Rhea’s eyebrow quirked upwards, but Yuri was unrepentant. She knew what she was doing by looping him in. “I’ll reduce the quantity of jobs I assign you.”
“To once every four months, perhaps.”
“Once every two.”
“That would be highly detrimental for Byleth’s childhood development.”
Evenly, Rhea said, “Going forth, I will give you a job every three months at maximum. Is that a deal?”
That was fucking fantastic. Yuri was almost lightheaded, but he pressed on. “Sounds like a deal. But raising a child is no simple matter, my lady. Child-proofing the environment, educating her, feeding her…Abyss is run on a razor-thin budget. The expenses concern me.”
Rhea sighed. “I will funnel more money into your personal budget to compensate for the expense.” Yuri waited patiently. “And into the Abyss orphanages. Anything else, Yuri?”
She could be such a sucker sometimes. Sometimes Yuri wondered if she let him do it. Definitely not. Probably not.
“I’m satisfied. You’re as generous as always, Lady Rhea.”
“This is in exchange for Byleth’s safety.” Rhea’s expression sobered, the soft silk solidifying into stone. “In exchange for what I’m giving you, I need her safety absolutely guaranteed. Nothing can happen to this girl.”
“No need to fret, my lady. Abyss is the safest place in Fodlan. Nobody even knows we exist.” Yuri bent down a little, smiling at Byleth. She had regained access to her knuckle, and was chewing it fastidiously again. “What do you say, Byleth? Want to go home with me?”
If the girl wasn’t touched, she must have understood. She must understand that the woman who would not admit to a relationship with her had just bartered for her residency with a teenage assassin, den mother, and prostitute. All things considered, the price had been insultingly low.
Byleth just stared at him. Alright, maybe she didn’t understand. That would make this harder. Yuri really should have asked for more money. Teach the girl the first and most important lesson of her new life: that you should never sell yourself for less than what you were worth. Or market value, if you couldn’t get any buyers otherwise. Maybe this was just market value.
Smile, Yuri. Smile. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together, Byleth.”
Byleth blinked. At least she was a quiet child. This would be easy.
______________
This was impossible.
This was shit. Absolute and complete shit. Why wasn’t she like Bernadetta? Yuri had thought she would be like Bernadetta. All Bernadetta did was nap, read, exhaustively detail the plot of her book, and cry. Byleth couldn’t even read. Apparently, when children couldn’t read, they decided to follow you around instead.
Everywhere. She followed him everywhere. When Yuri sat in the small storage room he co-opted as an office she crawled underneath his desk and swiped at his ankles. When Yuri visited the rogue’s encampments and gave the leadership its newly tightened security measures, she ran around the training field and started waving wooden training swords around. It took three rogues to wrest a sword from her. When Yuri made the rounds of Abyss and talked to its citizens, hearing every problem and offering every condolence he could, she hovered at his heels and gawked at every conversation with wide eyes.
It was like having another googly-eyed shadow. Yuri didn’t have five seconds to himself anymore. He couldn’t even visit the tavern and unwind by flirting with one of his regular hook-ups - something about having a thirteen year old (twelve? Fourteen?) hovering at your elbow really killed your game. This must be what the older girls used to refer to as cockblocking.
Byleth still hadn’t said a word. She observed, but never really listened. Still couldn’t read or write. She could catch the rats scuttling around the gutters with her bare hands. The girl may be touched. Which, again, didn’t matter - but it made it extraordinarily difficult to convey to her the importance of ‘me time’. Or ‘don’t eat that’. Or ‘put down that sword’.
It was official. Byleth was a demon. Figured that the wolf in sheep’s clothing would spawn a feral little wolf cub. Yuri should have charged more.
At least Aelfric had his back. The cardinal had little time to sneak down into Abyss, but he had begun sparing whatever time he could towards playing with Byleth. Aelfric practically begged Yuri to allow him to spend time entertaining Byleth, saving Yuri from the effort of begging Aelfric to take her. Last time Yuri checked, Aelfric spent their time together teaching Byleth her letters in the destroyed classroom. And thank the goddess for that.
“I don’t understand why she didn’t ask me,” Aelfric said, for roughly the hundredth time. They were sitting at a stone desk in the classroom, eating a coarse but filling breakfast. Byleth was cramming a hunk of bread the size of her face into her mouth. “I have my duties, but I would have gladly forfeited them for the sake of this child. You’re barely more than a child yourself, Yuri -”
Yuri couldn’t help but bark a sharp laugh. “You do realize that you and my mother are the only people who have said that in a decade.”
“That doesn’t make it untrue,” Aelfric said gently. Yuri ducked his head, focusing on pressing a napkin into Byleth’s hands and directing her to wipe her own face. There was no way this girl even knew how to do her makeup. Ridiculous. “Rhea shouldn’t have put this responsibility on you. I don’t know what she was thinking, honestly.”
That made Yuri feel a little defensive. Byleth pushed away her plate, gnawing on her final hunk of bread, and Yuri pulled over her writing tablet. Aelfric had even sprung for a few pieces of paper and pencils dyed bright colors. Yuri hurriedly placed the paper and pencils in front of her. Last he remembered, drawing was an activity favored by younger children, but Byleth couldn’t exactly partake in the age-appropriate activities of gossiping, bullying other girls, sewing, or reading. Goddess, did she even know how to sew or embroider? Yuri would have to teach her.
“I could beat anybody in Abyss in a straight fight,” Yuri said. He hoped his defensiveness didn’t show. It was a little harder to hide with Aelfric. “Even you. More importantly, I know how to be stealthy and hide myself and others. I know the Abyss system like the back of my hand. As far as Abyssans go, I understand why Lady Rhea thought I was the best choice.”
“I’m not doubting your talent, Yuri,” Aelfric soothed, “I just don’t understand why Rhea couldn’t have put Byleth in the care of an adult. You have enough responsibilities of your own without adding another one on the heap.”
Yuri bristled. “I’m almost eighteen.”
“Eighteen with the burdens of a thirty year old.” Aelfric sighed, and Yuri guiltily subsided too. It wasn’t right to get defensive at Aelfric. After everything the man did to help him, he at least deserved the benefit of the doubt. “I just want you to enjoy what remains of your youth. There’s a sweet nun volunteering at the orphanage -” Yuri groaned. “Yuri, why can’t you hear me out on this?”
“You’re always going on about finding a nice girl, Aelfric -”
“Because you’re re-traumatizing yourself with all of these men,” Aelfric said patiently. Yuri looked down at his hands, restraining himself from picking at a manicured cuticle. “Look at you, Yuri. You haven’t changed any of your habits. You’re still trying to appeal to men. You have to begin to heal.”
There was something heavy and old in Yuri’s chest. It was a burden that never grew lighter - a pain that never retreated. The best he could do was ignore it. But Yuri kept picking at it all the same. “It’s not my fault that men continue to approach me.”
“But it’s your responsibility to turn them down. And men wouldn’t approach you so often if you didn’t wear all that makeup.”
When Yuri spoke, his voice was quieter than he expected. He had wanted it to be louder, stronger. But something had cut it down. “It’s not for them…”
A small, bony finger poked Yuri’s side.
He looked over at Byleth, who was staring at him with her usual wide, serious eyes. She picked up her picture and presented it to Yuri, who took it and inspected the image carefully.
It was of them. The girl was a far better artist than he expected, and although the proportions were a little wonky Yuri could clearly recognize all three of them. They were sitting on crates outside of a tent - a tent that resembled the ones in Abyss, but was more reminiscent of a standard issue mercenary’s tent. Yuri was drawn with great care, sitting straight backed on the crate and staring straight at the viewer. His makeup was exaggerated and poorly applied. Aelfric sat on Yuri’s left, wrinkles clearly outlined and his blood-red habit engulfing his figure. The red lines on the habit seemed closer to bloodstains.
In comparison to the rest of the drawing, Byleth’s figure was remarkably undetailed. She only drew the faint outlines of herself, with a few expressive lines demarcating an abstract face. The greatest level of detail was in the giant brown jacket she never took off - the careful impressions of its stitches and metal buttons were a strange contrast to the ghost wearing it.
“This is excellent,” Yuri said, genuinely impressed. Sometimes it was easy to think of her as younger than thirteen-or-so, but at other times her true age was perfectly obvious. Even the ghostly Byleth felt more like an artistic choice. “I like your usage of color. It’s very powerful.” He pointed at a spot in the upper left of the page, tucked in the corner closest to Byleth and furthest than everybody else. It was just a tight swirl of green pencil - the gradient of density between the thick middle and loose outsides giving the green a strange halo-like impression. “Is this the sun?”
Byleth gave him a disgusted look. Yuri could guess: ‘the sun isn’t green, moron’. Potentially: ‘what sun? What’s a sun? I know only the Depths’.
“Then what is it?”
Byleth tugged the drawing away from him, replacing it on the table and attacking the page with a pencil. Chewing the edge of the pencil, mind working furiously, she carefully wrote out a word. She stared at the word, scratched it out, and then tried again. She put down her pencil, nodded in satisfaction, and showed it to Yuri again.
He squinted at the page. In messy, juvenile script underneath the halo - with an arrow carefully drawn towards the halo, in case he missed the reference - she had written ‘SOHTHESE’.
“Sohthese?” Yuri asked, hiding confusion. “Is that a friend of yours?” Byleth shook her head. Then she nodded. “Is…that a yes or no?”
“She’s making great progress, but her spelling needs work. Let me see.” Aelfric held out a hand, and Yuri silently passed him the page. Aelfric took one look at the page and his eyebrows jumped. “I think she means ‘Sothis’. Is that correct, Byleth?” Byleth nodded vigorously. “Where did you hear that name, Byleth? I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Wait. That name was a little familiar. “Is that the name of a saint?” Yuri asked. “I didn’t know you were giving her catechism classes.”
“I’m not. And it’s the name of the Goddess herself. It’s not very well used - typically only scriptural scholars use it with any regularity.” Aelfric frowned down at Byleth, and for the first time his expression seemed troubled. “Where could you have heard that word…?”
“Wow,” Yuri panned, “I wonder where the secret daughter of Lady Rhea heard the name of the goddess. The world may never know.”
“Please, Yuri, be serious.” Aelfric was still frowning, staring at the paper intently. Byleth gestured for him to give the paper back, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just stared and stared at the paper, walking mental paths far beyond the provincial little world of Yuri and Byleth.
“Aelfric, I think she wants the paper back.”
“What? Oh, yes.” Aelfric looked up, still somewhat dazed. “Could I potentially keep this, Byleth?” Byleth shook her head no. “I see. That’s alright, then.” He passed it back, and Byleth tugged it firmly out of his hands. She replaced it on the table, smoothing it over carefully.
“I didn’t figure you for the religious type,” Yuri told Byleth. Byleth shrugged. “Are you going to become a nice nun too?”
“There’s nothing wrong with marrying a good woman and settling down,” Aelfric scolded lightly. “A home and a family is the greatest joy a young man can have. If you don’t change your behavior, you’ll never find happiness. I’m only worried about you.”
An extensive, agonizing rip split the air.
Byleth was holding up the carefully constructed drawing in clear view of both men. Making direct and unblinking eye contact, she looked at Aelfric and ripped the paper straight down between Yuri and Aelfric. Yuri and Aelfric stared at her in shocked silence as she finished cruelly ripping Aelfric from the paper, balling up his figure in one clenched fist and carefully replacing the cropped page on the table. Yuri, Byleth, and Sothis looked very happy together. Aelfric’s face was split in half.
Silence burdened the room. Aefric and Yuri gaped at Byleth in pure shock. Byleth happily took a blue pencil and began threading in streaks of blue in the green halo.
A bark of laughter escaped Yuri’s chest. His chest was light and full, and the thick iron bars that held his broken pieces together loosened and allowed him to breathe. Another burst of laughter escaped the abandoned prison, then another, and then the inmates began running the asylum. Yuri began wheezing, clutching his own stomach as he laughed uncontrollably.
Then Byleth laughed too, a light and ugly snort. It was the only sound he had ever heard from her. After weeks, the first and only sound Yuri had ever heard from Byleth was laughter. No tears, no screams of pain, no words begging for help, no moans for food - just laughter. A small smile painting the face of the girl as silent as death.
Yuri and Byleth, two prisoners unrestrained for the first time that they could remember, laughed together in defiance.
In the end, Byleth had given the picture to Yuri. She had forgotten about the whole incident after a few months - a few years later, when prompted about that picture and the Goddess, Byleth would just stare blankly in confusion. She didn’t remember those days well.
Yuri remembered them. He remembered the picture too. He had placed the picture between two pages of a book and hidden it inside a desk. It remained in that desk for a very long time, and nobody but him ever knew it existed.
_____________
And then he lost her.
He lost her. Aelfric asked if he could babysit her for the day, and because Yuri was tired and wanted some time to himself and to actually go on a freaking date for once he said yes, and when Byleth’s curfew at 2100 passed she and Aelfric still were not home. Aelfric knew to get her home by curfew. He knew that Byleth had to stay in Abyss for her own safety. He knew.
Yuri combed all of Abyss, top to bottom. Images of Aelfric and Byleth floating face down in the canal flashed throughout his mind. But a rogue stationed at one of the entrances from the monastery into Abyss said that he let Aelfric and Byleth through the entrance only a few hours ago. Apparently Yuri had asked Aelfric to take Byleth to the chapel to pray. The guard hadn’t thought twice about it. Yuri was Byleth’s guardian, but it was Aelfric. Some people were above suspicion. Some people could take children wherever they wanted.
Yuri sprinted back to his room and threw on his spare pilfered Academy uniform, stolen from the closet of a noble boy who should have known better. He pulled on the jacket as he ran, feet thumping in time with the omnipresent dripping of water and the squeak of rats, and his mind was nothing but blaring static as he unscrewed the entrance to one of the least-known entrances into the monastery.
He climbed the ladder at top speed, stopping only to grab the stone handle at the very top of the chute. He pushed full force against the handle, and after a second he heard the hard grind of stone on stone as the mechanism was activated and shifted the statue of Saint Cethlenn to the side. It was one of the finicky trapdoors that was almost impossible to access from above ground, but relatively easy from below. Yuri often had morbid daydreams about Garreg Mach falling under attack and how he would evacuate the entire population of the school out through the tunnels.
Yuri clambered out of the tunnel, hoisting himself into Seteth’s office. He looked around - empty, but the sound of voices echoed from the adjacent room - and quickly stood up so he could push the statue back into place. The voices were Rhea’s familiar cadence and another unfamiliar deep male voice. In any other circumstance, Yuri would have cared about revealing himself in front of a stranger. Today, he barely thought about it. Yuri burst out of Seteth’s office and skidded into the main chambers, ignoring Seteth’s cry of alarm and the rustling sounds of the guard’s armor. Yuri only halted when he was directly in front of Rhea, looking up into her alarmed green eyes.
Yuri bent double, leaning on his knees and gasping for breath. Rhea leaned over him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. The other man in the room was absolutely huge, with big hair and bigger muscles. If it wasn’t for the Academy student’s uniform he would have assumed the man was in his thirties.
“Whoah,” the big guy said. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“Where,” Yuri gasped, hard and heavy, “is Aelfric?”
Rhea paled, eyes widening. Fear. Why fear? “He told me he was visiting you today. What’s wrong?”
“Sounds great! So it’s official that nobody knows where Father Aelfric was, then?” The big guy waved around a thick folder of paper, one hand propped on his hip. “Because I hung out in his office for an hour waiting for him to show up to our appointment. He said it was important, too! All this stuff about helping save me from expulsion. And the guy can’t even show up? We’re talking about my future here!”
“Our guard saw him taking Byleth to the surface!” Yuri cried frantically. The big guy’s brows furrowed, but Yuri couldn’t be assed about him right now. “I can’t find Aelfric or Byleth anywhere in Abyss! Lady Rhea, you have -”
But Rhea was already straightening and turning to the guards. In a tone he had never heard before, she said, “Find Cardinal Aelfric and bring him to me immediately. Shut down the monastery until he and Byleth are found. Nobody in or out.”
“I know where he might have gone.” The big guy flipped the folder open, flashing messy stacks of paper and ripped pages from books. “I got bored waiting around for him, so I went through his desk.” No wonder this guy was about to get expelled. “Never knew one guy could get so into his ancient mausoleum hobby. Would you happen to know anything about this, Lady Rhea?”
Lady Rhea was silent. Yuri was still shaking. He should have been shocked, he should have been horrified. But he wasn’t. Yuri knew. Yuri had always known, he just hadn’t wanted to see it.
“This is all my fault,” Yuri whispered. He wanted to throw up. He knew this sort of nausea - the kind invoked by visceral disgust at something you found within yourself. “I let him take her. I let him run off with her. This is all my…”
The way Aelfric looked at her. The way he was constantly volunteering to babysit or entertain her for the day or homeschool her. Yuri had given him everything he wanted - every unsupervised visit, constant knowledge of her location, everything. Because Yuri had trusted Aelfric.
Trusted. He could be doing anything to her right now, because Yuri had trusted.
Hands, unimaginably large and hairy. Sagging flesh pressing against his own. Was this how Byleth felt right now? Were big hands on her chest? Awful pain, burning like fire. What did Byleth look like when she was in that pain? Did she make the same sounds he had? The squeals and moans. Did they like hearing them from her too?
“Yuri. Yuri, you have to breathe.” Lithe, strong hands enveloped Yuri’s hands and squeezed tightly. The melodic sound of Lady Rhea’s voice barely permeated the haze. “You’re at Garreg Mach, Yuri. You’re in the home of the Goddess. You’re seventeen. I’m here. Nothing may harm you so long as I’m here.”
“This is my fault,” Yuri gasped. “This is all my fault.”
“No, Yuri. Look at me.” Yuri shuddered a final breath before looking up at Rhea. Her expression was intent, but she was still so calm and composed. Yuri couldn’t say the same at all. “This is my fault. I didn’t share my suspicions with you. I’m the one who encouraged you to trust him. This was - this was all me.”
It was?
Rhea had known? Rhea had known that Aelfric wasn’t honest? She had known that Aelfric would take Byleth and she hadn’t said anything -
“I know.” Rhea’s expression creased, and a deep pain surfaced in her features. “I just thought…he loved her mother as I once did. Surely he would feel the same as I do…but I suppose not. People still disappoint.”
Yuri tugged his hands out of Rhea’s, and she let them go. He scrubbed at his face, constantly fighting to keep hold of his breaths and sanity. He was not about to have another stupid flashback. He wasn’t. Not in Garreg Mach and not in front of the stupid Archbishop. He wasn’t going to catastrophize. Byleth was fine. He had fucked up and failed her and it’s all his fault that terrible things are definitely happening to her right now, but it was fine.
“I hate men so damned much,” Yuri muttered miserably. Some part of him was appalled that he had cursed in front of the archbishop, but every other part of him was far more concerned with far more important things. “I’m never trusting a man again. All men do is make children suffer.”
The big guy laughed awkwardly, passing the file folder to the somber Rhea before scrubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “On behalf of men, I guess I have to apologize. I like to think we’re not all that bad…not that I can blame a - um, you, for how you feel. Tell you what, alright?” The big guy flexed an arm, as if he was at a bar trying to impress Yuri, and clapped his hand on his admittedly impressive bicep. “I’ll save this little girl myself! I’ll chase down Father Aelfric, kick his ass, get that little girl safely home, and redeem men in the eyes of women and - ah, you, everywhere! Or my name ain’t Balthus von Adalbrecht!”
A von Adalbrecht. Great. Yuri couldn’t repress the sneer. “Your uncle yells the name of his wife’s brother in bed.”
Balthus stared at Yuri blankly. “How do you know that?”
“How do you think?”
“Oh. Oh! Oh, gross! Why’d you have to say that, man!”
“Blame him,” Yuri snapped. “I don’t need the help of some meathead nobleman. I’ll rescue her myself.”
But Balthus just shrugged - as if this really was such a simple thing. “Why can’t we both rescue her?”
“Because I don’t know you!”
“I just introduced myself. Balthazar von Adalbrecht, call me Balthus.” Balthus stuck out his hand, waiting expectantly for a handshake. “And who’re you supposed to be, kid from nowhere?”
“I’m nobody. You ought to forget you ever saw me.” Rhea was already going to give him an earful over allowing himself to be seen. But Balthus was standing so expectantly, and despite that awful little trivia Yuri just shared he was still looking him in the eyes. “What do you even want from me?”
“What, you think that just because I want to help it means I want something from you?” Yes, that was exactly what Yuri thought. He wasn’t stupid. “Listen, pal. Even nobodies need some help here and there. I’m not exactly a saint, but any half-decent person would want to help you out. Since I’m the strongest, coolest guy in Garreg Mach, that means I have to help. It’s not exactly complicated.”
“There’s no such thing as decent people,” Yuri said sourly.
Balthus whistled. “You’re a regular beam of sunshine, aren’tcha?”
“I haven’t seen the sun in weeks.”
“You haven’t what now?”
“Take Balthus with you, Yuri.” Lady Rhea’s tone brooked no argument, and Yuri had to give up. It was always a waste of time arguing with a noble. They would just take what they wanted anyway. “You two will take our elite church knights and rescue Byleth. I can lead the way - I think I know where Aelfric and Byleth are.” Rhea’s expression darkened, sending something crawling up Yuri’s spine. Seeing a dangerous expression on her felt…well, it felt more dangerous than usual. “I suspect he is desecrating a corpse right now.”
“Wow,” Balthus said, impressed. “What the hell did I just walk into?”
“Captain Jeralt will arrive with the forces soon. We’ll leave then.” Rhea turned around, and Yuri and Balthus exchanged troubled looks. Her voice was poisonous. If she sounded like this, what expression was she hiding so carefully? “Aelfric will learn what Byleth’s true family is capable of.”
“Hell yeah!” Balthus cried, pumping a fist. “Go, fam!”
“We aren’t fam!” Yuri snapped. “What does that even mean?”
“But Lady Rhea just said that the bad guy’s gonna learn what -”
“That doesn’t make you fam.”
“But I’m on the team, and the team’s fam, so -”
“What is fam!”
At the time, Yuri’s only consolation had been the fact that he wouldn’t have to deal with Balthus for very long. He was a strong fighter with a compassionate heart, but if Yuri never saw another wealthy and spoiled nobleman again it would be too soon. Yuri hadn’t noticed when Byleth entered his heart, but that final and disastrous kidnapping session had proven it - whether they wielded the weapon or were the weapon, the people closest to you always hurt the most. Better to close your heart.
There were a lot of things Yuri hated about himself. The list was too long to count. But there was always one thing about himself that Yuri hated the most. One thing he just couldn’t stand.
Yuri just couldn’t close his heart. He just couldn’t do it. Every time he failed, and every time he had regretted it. There was no benefit to letting people in. He just couldn’t stop.
But Balthus had saved Byleth’s life that day. So maybe there was a benefit or two. Every once in a great while.
If you were lucky.
_________
Three days after Yuri and a moron saved a little girl from a bastard, Abyss received a visitor.
Yuri received him outside the ruined classroom. It would probably be more professional to bring him to Yuri’s office or something, but Yuri frankly intended to get rid of him as quickly as possible. Team up with the church knights once and suddenly they think that they have the right to go stomping all around Abyss. But you couldn’t exactly tell the captain of the church knights to get off your lawn, so Yuri told Byleth that he would be back in a few minutes and stood outside the classroom in increasingly frustrated wait.
Byleth had made big eyes at him. She obviously hadn’t wanted him to go. Ugh. He really hoped that this wouldn’t turn into a surprise administrative meeting that took five hours and never accepted Yuri’s input into anything. Yuri was re-teaching Byleth poker - she had undoubtedly already learned before she lost her memory, which was another strike against the ‘secret lovechild of Lady Rhea’ theory that had been admittedly punctured by the corpse of her mother - and she was unsurprisingly excellent at it. Girl was a genius in math.
But Jeralt didn’t show up wearing armor. He was wearing casual, battered furs, leather, and a familiar canvas jacket. Surface people were always tense and anxious in Abyss, expecting to get mugged by rats with daggers at any moment, but there was a different quality about Jeralt’s anxiety. He seemed as if he was steeling himself for something.
“Yuri.” Jeralt’s voice was always attractively husky, but it was closer to hoarse now. “Doing well?”
Yuri bowed, noting the bandage on Jeralt’s temple. “Yes, sir. All healed up. And you? That hit you took looked nasty.”
Jeralt huffed a laugh, rubbing the bandage. “I’ve taken hits from bigger monsters. Don’t worry about it. I would have come to visit earlier, but they only let me out of bed this morning.” Jeralt cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Ah…is Byleth doing alright?”
“She’s been having nightmares, but she’s fine.”
“She is?” Jeralt looked unreasonably alarmed. “Is she waking up at night? What are you doing to help? Tea -”
“She’s been sleeping in my bed the past few nights, so I’m keeping an eye on her.” Yuri eyed Jeralt, suspicions only growing. There was something off about this conversation. “Can I help you, captain?”
“Right. Ah, right.” Jeralt shifted again and coughed. Mysteriously, he took off his cap and held it tightly. “I was hoping to drop in and say hello. See how she is.”
Like hell he would.
“Byleth is busy doing her schoolwork.” Yuri’s voice could have frozen a flame. “You’ll have to come back later.”
“We don’t have to talk.” There was something old and weary in Jeralt. His husky voice was more of a rasp. “I just want to see her.”
Before he could restrain himself, Yuri snapped, “And why do you want to see her so badly?”
Snapping at the captain of the church knights. Fantastic. This was how you protected people - by alienating everybody else who wanted to help. That would do it.
Jeralt did want to help. The man had been withdrawn and quiet during their rescue mission, but he had been the first to rescue Byleth’s mother’s corpse and prevent it from melting into the monster. He probably would have been the first to rescue Byleth if Yuri hadn’t gotten there first - if Yuri hadn’t used a careful vein of magic to swap positions with her. Byleth had landed safely near the entrance and Aelfric had found a nasty surprise when he turned to look down upon a girl laid out on an altar and came eye-to-eye with Yuri’s dagger.
But that didn’t mean anything. Aelfric had helped Yuri and Byleth too, and look where that got them. Yuri didn’t know anything about Jeralt. He could have ulterior motives. He worked closely with Rhea, who was nothing but ulterior motives. The only person Yuri was certain didn’t have ulterior motives was Balthus, who was just clearly too stupid.
Jeralt didn’t grow angry or defensive. He just looked a little sad. Yuri crossed his arms, fighting the urge to bristle. “How are you holding up, kid?”
“I wasn’t the one who was kidnapped.”
Jeralt huffed a small laugh. “It ain’t exactly easy on the onlookers, either. It’s alright if you’re not alright.”
“I’ll persevere somehow.” Yuri was quickly losing track of this conversation. Why was Jeralt asking about this? “Did Rhea tell you to check up on us?
“Rhea doesn’t know I’m here. She’s…strongly encouraged me to stay away from Abyss.” Jeralt’s mouth twisted unhappily. “She’s right. I really shouldn’t be here. I just…wanted to see her.”
“And why is that?”
For a long, long moment, Jeralt didn’t answer. Great. He couldn’t even think of a good lie. He couldn’t even say that he wanted to make sure she wasn’t injured, or assure himself that he had gotten her out of there intact - Yuri would have even believed those bland excuses. But he had nothing to say for himself at all. How suspect.
The door creaked open, and Yuri spun around just in time to see Byleth poking her head out of the classroom. Yuri opened his mouth, ready to reprimand her and shuffle her quickly back inside where no suspicious men resided, but he was too slow. The second Byleth saw Jeralt her eyes widened, and Yuri saw her eyes light up for the first time.
“Jeralt!” Byleth cried.
She dived forwards, and Jeralt automatically crouched down to accept the hug. They squeezed each other tightly - Byleth hanging on for dear life, Jeralt fighting shuddering breaths. His hand pressed on the back of her lead, warm and protective.
So she could speak. Yuri had been wondering. Her first word of her new life was…Jeralt. That was fine. Good for her. And Jeralt.
“Hey, kid,” Jeralt rasped, throat thick. “How’ve you been?”
Byleth patted the top of his head.
Alright, that was enough. Yuri took the white collar of Byleth’s neat little navy blue dress, pulling gently until he reeled her back away from Jeralt. The effect was somewhat like a scruffed kitten, but whatever worked. Yuri’s carefully tied puffy twin pigtails didn’t help the kitten impression.
“Don’t run towards strange people,” Yuri scolded. “This is why you keep getting kidnapped.”
Byleth wriggled around until Yuri finally sighed and released her. Jeralt slowly rose, but Byleth ran back towards him and tugged hard at his jacket. Jeralt raised a patient eyebrow, watching Byleth carefully.
Yuri had distantly noticed it before, but now that Byleth drew attention to the jacket it was obvious. It was a very familiar jacket. Not identical to Byleth’s old one - the giant canvas jacket that she never took off - but it was similar in fit and cut.
“What do you need?” Jeralt asked. Byleth tugged harder at the jacket, as if she was trying to pull it off him. “Use your words, kid. You can do it.” Byleth heroically attempted to rip the jacket from Jeralt’s body. Yuri made a strangled noise, but Jeralt didn’t blink. “You have to start speaking up sometime. I bet Yuri over there wants to hear your voice too.”
Byleth’s eyebrows ticked together, but she finally released the jacket. She stared fixedly at Jeralt, who amicably allowed himself to be stared at. Finally, she said, “Aelfric lost jacket.”
Automatically, Yuri corrected, “Aelfric lost my jacket.”
“Aelfric lost my jacket,” Byleth parroted. She poked at Jeralt’s canvas jacket again. “I want the jacket again.”
Turned out that there was one way Byleth could be even more trouble - opening her mouth. Yuri sighed, already regretting his life. “Byleth, you’re being incredibly rude. You can’t just ask adults to -”
But Jeralt was already shucking his jacket, with no hesitation or thought, and passing it to Byleth. She brightened, clutching the thick material tightly and burying her face in it. She smelled it deeply, making Jeralt’s expression crease into something absolutely unfamiliar to Yuri, before swinging the jacket on and allowing it to swallow her up yet again. This edition went to her knees, looking far more like a baggy coat than anything else, but she beamed up at Jeralt in absolute joy anyway. She turned to Yuri, spreading her arms out and silently bragging about how great her new jacket was.
Something that should have been obvious weeks ago suddenly became extremely obvious. “You’re the one who gave her that first jacket. The one she never took off.”
“She never took it off?” Jeralt smiled a little, but the weight on his shoulders only seemed to grow. “I gave it to her after I rescued her from her kidnappers last time. She was - ah, she just seemed cold. I assumed she had thrown it away or something.”
“You’re the one who rescued her?” Hadn’t Lady Rhea mentioned something about this? “Wait - are you the one who brought Byleth to Garreg Mach?”
“Yup. It’s why I wanted to see her again.” Jeralt patted the top of Byleth’s head, who swelled her chest in pride. “She’s picked up a habit of getting into trouble.”
That did explain it. No wonder he was invested. After so much work invested in keeping her alive, Yuri would want to check up on her too. Why couldn’t he just say that?
Byleth looked seriously up at Jeralt. “Thank you for the jacket.”
“I knew you had manners in there somewhere.” Jeralt crouched down again, looking just above Byleth’s head. Yuri had noted weeks ago that she didn’t like eye contact, but it seemed that Jeralt knew that too. “Try not to lose that one. But if you do, come right back to me and I’ll give you another one. Alright?”
Byleth nodded.
Jeralt sighed. He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Byleth leaned into the touch a little. “Be more careful from now on. Your world will only grow more dangerous as you get older. You have to be ready, so train hard.” Impulsively, he took the cap off his head and placed it on her own. It fell over her eyes immediately, far too large for her, but she hurriedly pushed it upwards. “Listen to that brother of yours. His life looks hard enough already, so don’t make it any harder.”
Byleth’s eyes widened. “Brother?”
“Brother?” Yuri squawked. “Please, Captain, Rhea hired me to supervise her. This is just an arrangement.”
Jeralt shifted to look at him, and Yuri saw flint in his eyes for the first time. “We need to separate Byleth from her past life even further. We don’t know if Aelfric told anybody about the identity of Byleth’s mother. Connecting her to you is safest for both of you. Guess I should have asked first, but it’s a matter of her safety.”
“This is an arrangement.”
“Then arrange a fake relationship. You need some excuse for why you’re joined at the hip. Pretend she’s some orphan you took in under your wing - it’s not even a lie.” Jeralt straightened, turning to look at Yuri for the first time. His expression was somber and serious, but he looked smaller without his jacket. “Look, kid. I admit I wasn’t happy when Rhea passed her off to you. Rhea has her own reasons for everything she does, and you’re…”
He trailed off, clearly struggling for political correctness, before Yuri took pity on him. “An ex-whore who moonlights as Rhea’s lackey?”
“Saints, kid, that’s not what I was about to say -”
“What’s a whore?” Byleth asked loudly.
Yuri looked down at her. “Somebody who’s so good at something that they never do it for free.” Byleth nodded sagely, and Yuri looked back up at Jeralt. Jeralt didn’t seem happy, but Yuri wasn’t paid enough to entertain him. “And even if you weren’t crass enough to say it, it’s the truth. You don’t trust Rhea and I do whatever she says. Trust me, Captain, I wouldn’t be happy either. You don’t have to cozy up to me.”
“I wasn’t happy because you’re seventeen years old,” Jeralt said firmly. Yuri rolled his eyes. Not this shit again. What was with adult men always reminding him that he was in his teens? Did they get off on it or something? “I knew Rhea would put her with somebody she trusted absolutely. I just didn’t want that person to be you.”
Of course he didn’t! Who the hell would? Yuri was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion about Jeralt’s relationship to Byleth - nobody else would have thought to rescue a corpse before an imminent battle - and no self-respecting father would want their daughter around somebody like Yuri. Byleth was pure and innocent. As innocent as a thirteen year old could ever be - wiped clean of her old life, completely noncognizant of the world around her. How often had she seen the sun since she met Yuri? She hadn’t even spoken before now. The girl had a damned imaginary friend, for heaven’s sake. Byleth was innocent in every way, and Yuri was filthy.
“Saints, kid, don’t give me that face. It’s not because of your background. It’s just obvious that you have more than enough on your plate. Don’t you have a city to govern? Evil errands to run for Rhea? I just don’t know how the hell you have time.”
“Do you think I can’t do it?” Yuri snapped. “I have more than one skillset, you know.”
Jeralt exhaled heavily, scrubbing his face. “You are the least charitable - never mind.” He was uncharitable? Maybe he just didn’t buy stupid lies. “None of this is coming out right. What I’m trying to say is that you need whatever help you can get. Calling yourself siblings would make your life easier. But I’m hardly going to force you into it. Do whatever you want, kid. I’m not in charge of you.” Slightly quieter, he said, “I’m not in charge of either of you.”
Yuri wanted to call Jeralt a bad father. He knew already that Jeralt was probably the best father he’d ever met. Taking up a job with somebody he clearly hated for the sake of staying near a daughter he was barely allowed to see. Who he couldn’t even claim, because some mysteriously evil people were after her and she was safest in complete anonymity. Some fathers would cheer at the opportunity to ditch their daughters, but the pain in Jeralt’s voice was real. And yet he wanted to tie her to Yuri.
It would only contaminate her. He was already ruining her. Yuri had to stay away, he had to keep her out - if only for her own sake. To protect her from Yuri, and to protect Yuri from the world. Yuri couldn’t let anybody else inside. Too dangerous for everybody.
But refusing Jeralt’s proposal wouldn’t protect her from the world. And maybe a father was thinking about a factor that Yuri had missed completely.
The fact that her mother was a shockingly well-preserved corpse and her father had to disown her. Rhea was somehow related to her, which was bad enough, but she couldn’t claim her either. Even Yuri had a mother. To the world, Byleth was alone. That was…
“Fine.” Yuri had lost this battle. He had probably also lost the war. Whatever. He fought for his own side anyway. “But I won’t force her to call me that. She’s not terribly attached to me.”
It was the rational thought. Yuri had repeatedly left her alone with a freak and allowed her to get kidnapped again. It was a miracle her real family hadn’t fired Yuri the second she got kidnapped.
But Byleth’s brow furrowed in outrage. Yuri fought the urge to startle - he had almost forgotten she was there. “I like you.”
The words stopped Yuri short. He wasn’t sure why. They weren’t strange words, were they?
His hesitation must have been obvious, even to Byleth, because she promptly grabbed him in a giant hug. It was small, comforting, and warm. Her small body fit nicely next to his, and when he folded his arms over her he could almost envelop her.
Jeralt just gave him a wry grin. “I guess you were too far away to hear. Remember how I was right next to you when you swapped positions with her?” Yuri nodded. “When she appeared in your place, I scooped her up and put her on my horse immediately. I think she knew what had happened. She called out your name. Damn near tried to jump from my horse and run towards you too.”
That didn’t seem right. But she had hugged him after the fight, hadn’t she? Balthus had called it adorable. Come to think of it, Balthus had asked if Byleth was his sister too…Yuri hadn’t known what to say. He didn’t know what to say now.
Jeralt propped a hand on a hip, smiling. “You see that, Byleth? Yuri didn’t know you liked him. From now on you’ll have to speak up and tell him you like him a lot.” Byleth nodded fastidiously. “Attagirl. Hey, can you take that book from the inside pocket and pass it to your brother? It has something he might want to see.”
Byleth eagerly separated from Yuri and completed the errand, pulling out a small book from a jacket pocket and passing it to Yuri. Yuri opened it and began flipping through it, just barely catching scraps of documents and notes that came slipping out.
“Check the last few pages,” Jeralt said. “We found it in Aelfric’s things. Actually, that klepto student found it. Is that guy a friend of yours or something?”
“Or something,” Yuri muttered.
Byleth stared up at Jeralt. “Is Balthus my brother too?”
“No,” Yuri said.
Jeralt shrugged. “If you want. He’s rich, so maybe you can fleece him.”
“I already tried,” Yuri said distantly, flipping through the book. Something about four crests…notes on a very familiar crest. Balthus’ pilfered paperwork had already revealed that Aelfric had targeted him for his crest. That had burned. Yuri was trying not to think about it. “He’s broke and only attracted to older women.”
Pity, too - Yuri could have had an excellent sucker on that reel. He made his move during the ‘post-rescue a little girl drinking party!’, but Balthus just pointedly pretended he didn’t pick up on what Yuri was doing and started talking loudly about how Yuri reminded him of a hypothetical younger brother. It was frustrating. Yuri still didn’t know why Balthus had helped him. There was probably a secret motive that Yuri just hadn’t picked up on yet. Or maybe Balthus actually -
Yuri stopped short. This page was about Balthus. About the von Adalbrechts, and some sort of mysterious crest in their family legend. Right alongside a personality profile on Balthus…notes on his attendance and conduct issues…character notes…records of meetings and conversations with Balthus…lists of broken school rules…apparently psychologically unstable…
Yuri flipped a page backwards. It was on him. He caught a few paragraphs on his history before he quickly flipped forward. He didn’t want to know what Aelfric thought of his personality. Probably just called him a slut for two straight pages. Definitely marked him down as psychologically unstable.
But there were people besides Yuri and Balthus in the notebook. Right after Balthus’ incomplete profile, there was another name and short descriptor. Constance von Nuvelle. Another rich bitch noblewoman. Current student of the Fhirdiad School of Sorcery…extremely high grades for her first few years at the school before they plummeted half a year ago. Now at risk of dropping out. Extensive record of conduct issues, same as Balthus. Aelfric made note of…severe psychological instability, whatever that meant. And a certain crest…
Yuri flipped through Constance’s profile until he found another. Hapi, no last name - a commoner. Extensive hypothesizing on the power of her crest and little information about her. Current resident of a church in the middle of nowhere. Psychologically unstable.
“This explains why Aelfric was having those private meetings with Balthus,” Yuri muttered. “I guess we both have powerful crests. These two women must also have powerful crests…but why keep tabs on them specifically? Why keep tabs on all of us?”
“Aelfric talked about blood a lot,” Byleth said seriously. Yuri really shouldn’t have left him alone with her.
“I should contact Lady Rhea about this,” Yuri said. He continued flipping through the book - going through Yuri Leclarc, Balthus von Adalbrecht, Constance von Nuvelle, and Hapi’s profiles again and again. Four strangers placed right next to each other, thrown together by fate. “She’ll definitely be interested in learning about Constance and Hapi.”
Byleth peered over his arm, trying to take a glance at the book. Yuri let her. She could barely read. Maybe secrets would incentivize her to keep learning. “Are they important?”
“Probably not,” Yuri said.
But even then, he had lied. Even then, he had already known.
Call it intuition.
#my writing#fe3h#fire emblem three houses#dimileth#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd#claude von riegan#yuri leclerc#byleth eisner#fun fact. writing claude in his story was so incredibly fun#that i stopped writing this and turned around and wrote a#60k claude POV fic#instead of finishing this.#the claude pov fic is exclusively for me nobody will read it that is fine but it is fucking insane.
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Was at a party tonight and a shitton of people, cis men and women alike, wanted to pass around my breast forms and fuck with them, as additional chest stuffing, packers, just to feel them... And it wants anything to them but idk the casual acceptance and fucking around and laughing and including me in all of it and showing off was just like. Yeah. This is what it should be. Gendered features and clothes and random shit talked about, passed around at a party. With lots of fun and casualness and jokes and affirmation all in one weird social package. I fucking love it.
Anyways the bad news is I got way too drunk too fast to take pics in the costume this time, but it was the same one as last week so y'know. Same thing. Might take some different pics this week tho, I know my simps are starving
Idk I'm still drunk, sorry for this thought is incoherent
#trans#transgender#trans woman#i was still “crossdressing” tbf#and called myself a man#but it was still like#a lot of fun#cuz ppl didnt treat it as a joke#they treated it as a fun outfit#which was nice
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Just watched the breakfast club and I cannot NOT link whatever content I'm consuming to bsd but I already have too many aus, so I'm just throwing these ideas into the void just so I can stop thinking about em
BTW the breakfast club is a movie about 5 highschoolers all kinda stereotypes in their own right spending Saturday detention together and becoming friends and opening up to each other
Dazai fits the rebel stereotype pretty well since the rebel in movie spends the entirety of the movie antagonising the other characters and messing with them, maybe he used to one of the top students but started acting out after oda died (his brother maybe?)
Then chuuya as the jock (he's not stupid I know but he is a powerhouse so he gets to be the sporty one) and he has like a long history with dazai but they had a pretty intense falling out. Maybe he got like really into sports because the physical activities helped clear his head and distract him from his shit homelike. Like yknow when people go jogging or smt to clear their head, idk I don't exercise :p. I think his arc can be like confronting his emotions and dealing with them
Ranpo as the nerd, duh, but probably got send to detention for talking back to the teacher. The shitty homelives of the kids in the movies are pretty important and help them relate to each other so maybe his parents like ignore him at home. Maybe he talks back to get detention to spend time with teacher fukuzawa. Tho I don't imagine fukuzawa would be running detention that day, much to ranpos disappointment.
Akutagawa as the basketcase and I get to make him as goth as possible. Also gets ignored at home. I think he got detention from skipping gym, which he skips bc of his lung condition but his parents don't really bother to write him a note for it. Also instead of the bad makeover that sucked at the end of breakfast club, instead Akutagawa puts eyeliner on atsushi and thats how they bond (god I hated the movies makeover )
And like hear me out, but atsushi as the princess. Not bc he's like.. mean girls popular person but like he's the sorta like overachieving nice girl who's in a thousand club. Atsushi tries to avoid going home and so he like joins a shitton of clubs and committees, and is nice to everyone bc he's afraid ppl will hate him, and also always tries to help everyone. I feel like he'd find a friendgroup of really popular kids and he just kinda goes along with them, kind of a people-pleaser. So not queen bee but definitely gets bossed around/hangs around the popular kids
Anyways-
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu#chuuya nakahara#bsd chuuya#bsd dazai#skk#soukoku#bsd akutagawa#bsd atsushi#atsushi nakajima#ryūnosuke akutagawa#bsd ranpo#ranpo edogawa bsd#ranpo edogawa#sskk#shin soukoku
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how do we think steve would sweet talk his pretty little domestic housewife during sexy time?
nsfw warning <3
steve who inhereted a shitton of money. barely ever has to go to work but when he does its all day long.
you usually take those days to clean the house and make him his favorite dinner. followed up by warm chocolate chip cookies that make him want to live inside your skin.
he walks in and sees you in the kitchen, a glass if wine in your hand. his food on the table, waiting for him.
of course he comes to kiss you first. your cheek, and then your lips.
“this for me baby?”
“mhm!”
he sits down at the table. his white button up unbuttoned at the top, sleeves pushed up his forearms. watching you, smiling fondly. sleepy eyes, messy hair.
“how was your day, stevie?”
“borin’, missed you baby.”
your short nightgown is covered by an apron. as you bend down to take the cookies from the oven your nightgown lifts, exposing a bit of the cotton panties Steve had helped you put on last night.
His cheeks heat up at the sight, brain becoming fuzzy. The love of his life making sure he’s fed after his long day. Making his stress melt away with the aroma of warm food and red wine. The beauty of a naiad in his eyes.
“Missed you too, my love.”
You place the warm cookies onto the counter. Making your way around to the back of his chair. You place a kiss to the top of his head, resting your hands on his shoulders and squeezing lightly, feeling him relax into you.
“Mhm..baby”
“Hm?”
“Kiss?”
You take his face in your hands, kissing him softly. He exhales, his hands meeting your hips.
He stands up, suddenly. Towering over you instantly. Untying the apron and slipping it off you. Wrapping your legs around his waist as he picks you up.
“Steb- mm- made you cookies.”
“Thank you honey, we’ll eat em after. Do you want me to take you to bed? Or we can watch a movie, your choice sweetheart.”
“Want you please.”
He carries you to your bedroom, kicking the door open and laying you down gently.
You watch him unbutton his shirt, taking it off before starting on his belt.
His skin looks so soft, so warm. You find yourself crawling over to him on the side of the bed, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his tummy.
His heart swells, bringing a hand down to scratch your head. Holding you now while you finish taking off his belt.
He pushes you back onto the bed, slotting his thigh between your legs while he kisses you. Getting you worked up more than you already were.
“So lucky to have you baby, take such good care of me honey.”
“So beautiful. My beautiful girl. So soft. So pretty. My little angel.”
“Yeah? You want something baby?”
He takes off your little nightgown. Positioning you on the bed so he can get in between your thighs. His hot breath on your pretty cunt.
He loves these panties because they’re white and cotton. Meaning, that when theyre even a little bit messy, they have a hint of transparency.
He licks your cunt through your panties while he holds both of your hands to your sides firmly. Completely at his will.
“I love you baby”
“M-m Steve, love you.”
“Look at you baby, making a mess for me.
His thumb rubs at your hole through the fabric, making the wet spot spread.
He slides them down your legs and kisses your slit softly, holding your shaking legs apart before spreading your lips apart and licking a stripe up your cunt.
He spends the next twenty minutes ravishing you while you writhe beneath him. Inhaling your scent, eyes closed and face flushed.
“Taste so fuckin- ugh good. Mm. Love you.”
Just treating you so good while also being COMPLETELY gone.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve stranger things#stranger things#steve harrington fluff#steve x you#steve x reader#st smut#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington x fem reader
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Bye-Bye my blue baby
Summary? Nope, ehehhe. 🤭
Warnings? God yes.; Talks of death and stabbing, Larissas death, graphic depiction of Larissas death, Morticia in great pain, a shitton of angst
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Morticia was in her conservatory when her crystal ball started to glow, being excited knowing it was her daughter, answered, “Hello, my little bat! Why are you covered in blood and who was it?”
Wednesday stared at her mother for a second trying to work through a way to tell her that Larissa Weems was no dead, so she took a breath and said, “Marylin is Laurel Gates, Laurel killed Weems, she and Tyler kidnapped me, stabbed me but Goody saved me, then Tyler transformed into the Hyde and tried to kill me again, Enid saved me, Crackstone came back to life and tried to annihilate all out casts but I killed him with help, and then I nearly beat Laurel to death with a shovel.”
Morticia didn’t hear the rest, all she heard was that Larissa, her ex roommate, friend, and girlfriend, was now dead. She didn’t realize she was staring at that Wednesday was calling her.
Wednesday let out a sharp and loud, “Mother!”
Morticia snapped back, “Yes, my darling?”
“Are you okay, Mother?” Wednesday, who was actually worried, asked
Morticia, while smiling a smile that was clearly faked, said, “I’m alright, my little death trap. How was dear Goody Addams?”
Wednesday, not buying but humoring her mother, snarked, “Incredibly stupid but now inside of me somehow, she healed me by becoming a part of me.”
Morticia, who was still clearly focusing on that one detail, merely hummed and said, “Well, as long as you showed no mercy and caused great pain then I am very delighted.”
Wednesday, deciding to give her mother alone time, said, “I need to go mother, the teachers here are incompetent and have no clue what they are doing. Will you be alright?”
Morticia, swallowing around the lump in her throat, said, “Yes, I will be quite alright, my little bat. Now go show them what you are made of my darling.”
And with that, both of them hung up. Morticia stared at the ball and then spoke, “Show me the last moments of Larissa Weems.”
The ball spoke, “Child, I do not wish to show you that of which will hurt you.”
Morticia let out an inhuman noise and spoke, “Show me the death of Larissa Weems.”
The ball made a noise but compiled, and so began an hour long journey of Morticia watching Larissa get injected with Nightshade, drop to the floor, convulse, and ultimately die. Morticia just kept staring into Larissa’s eyes and watching how they shone with confidence, anger, fear, and then ultimately drained of all life.
Morticia swiped her hand over that ball over and over and over again, tears dripping down her cheeks as she watched the woman she loved die, repeatedly.
Morticia, no longer able to stand, faltered as Larissa faltered in her last moments, tears now streaming, a scream unlike anything ever heard ripping its way out from deep within. The scream echoed throughout the conservatory, through the halls of the manor, through each room, reaching the ears of Pugsley and Gomez.
Gomez wisely told their son to stay behind and as he trekked through the hall of the manor, the paintings were weeping with his beloved. He made his way into the conservatory where he saw Morticia, on her knees, one hand clutching her chest and the other her stomach, screaming in pure pain.
He looked up and was greeted with the sight he never wished to see, a friend who now lay dead upon the ground. Gomez then looked around, even the plants were weeping with their caretaker and Morticia's beloved Cleopatra trying to get to her caretaker to be of some comfort.
Gomez then snapped out of it and stopped the ball, he made his way towards Morticia but as soon as he tried to gather her in his arms, she let out a piercing cry and sobbed out, "Just leave. Please, leave me here. Walk out and shut the door and leave me to grieve."
Gomez being Gomez obeyed his wife's orders, he walked out, shut the door, and gathered Pugsley and went for a walk to give his wife space while he did his own grieving for a lost friend.
Morticia laid on the floor of the conservatory for hours, head lying on the marble flooring, tears streaming down her cheeks, arms curled around herself, broken cry's ripping their way from her body.
She doesn't know how long had passed when she then felt a hand upon her shoulder and heard a voice, "Really, Mo? I thought you had more composure than this."
Morticia gasped, whirled around, spotted through her tears Larissa Weems, and let out another broken cry of despair but then spoke in a shaky voice, "Issa! Oh Issa! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry I couldn't help you, I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry I left. I'm so sorry."
Larissa, no longer blinded by her own pain and anger at Morticia, carefully approached, "Oh Mo, I forgive you. Gomez and I should never have put you in such a position. Come here, my porcelain dove."
With that Morticia crumbled into the arms of her love. Yes, even after the years she still loved the woman for she had never stopped. Morticia, clinging to the blonde beauty, howled in pain but Larissa just cradled the woman, rocked her, and combed her fingers gently through the raven locks. They stood there for what seemed like hours but in reality, it was just a mere 15 minutes.
With much pain, Larissa pulled back a little, "Look at me, my dear dove."
Morticia looked up and into Larissas eyes, they were white. Morticia cried out and looked away once more and Larissa, realizing what happened, altered her eyes back to the gorgeous blue they once were
"Is that better, my love?" Larissa softly asked
Morticia, peering once again through tears, spotted the blue eyes she knew and still loves, "Yes. Yes, it's much better, thank you."
"Morticia, while I did not want to go, I'm glad it was me instead of that hell spawn you call a daughter." Larissa let out with a light chuckle
She continued, "My love, I forgive you now. I hold no hate, no anger, no bitterness of any kind any longer. My last wish is for you to no longer beat yourself up over the past but live for now."
Morticia, knowing this was a possible goodbye forever, said, "Alright, I can't promise anything, my stately Sequoia but I can try."
Larissa smiled, "That's all I ask, my dear. That's all I ever ask. Although I do have to admit I did tear your picture out, not my finest moment but well, no take backs."
Morticia let out a wet a broken laugh, "I know, but you were always rather beautiful when angry."
Larissa smiled gently, knowing their time together was nearing the end, gave a gentle smile, "It's coming to an end, Mo. I have to go, my darling. Morticia, I love you, I will always love you, and I will be by your side no matter where you go. I'll always be there Morticia, you may not see me, but I will be there."
Morticia, holding in a scream of despair, asked, "Can I kiss you one last time, my darling?"
Larissa smiled and nodded, "Of course you can, my love."
Morticia gently cupped Larissas cheeks, looked in her eyes one last time and said, "I love you, my shifty shifter." And placed a soft kiss upon cold lips.
With that Larissa faded and the last thing Morticia heard was, "I love you too, my darling dove."
Morticia collapsed to her knees, tore her eyes open, glared at the heavens, face crumpling in anguish, then she let out a gut wrenching cry of despair that made even the devil shed a tear.
Wrapping her arms around herself and collapsing to the floor, Morticia lay there screaming in pure agony, tears streaming down her face and all she could think was, "My love is gone, never to return."
#larissa weems x morticia addams#larissa weems#mortica addams#wednesday addams#pugsley addams#gomez addams#morticia addams x gomez addams#larissa and morticia#larissa x morticia#netflix wednesday#wednesday#larissa weems imagines#larissa weems imagine#morticia addams imagine
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don’t talk to… ‘strangers’?
goro akechi x fem!reader
a few tags: exes to.. perhaps lovers? reader has a sister [S/N], high school setting (reader is third year as well as akechi)
author’s notes: hi!! this is my first xreader fic that i’ll be posting . i have a shitton but they’re all not finished or i haven’t revised them. i mean this isn’t proofead either but wtv
i just want to say I WANT TO SEE AKECHI WITH A KID. he’s so cute... i always thought he’d have a soft spot for them regardless if we’re talking about third sem akechi or his prince era. but anw enjoy this
also i had just returned to tumblr after SO LONG so i’m rly sorry if my writing’s so?!?! i just spedran this lol
—
High school has been terribly stressful for you. Not a single day where you aren’t able to have a good night’s sleep or even play your favorite game for at least an hour. Thankfully, you were given a two-week break to at least rewind or spend time with your families. Considering you’ve been living at a dorm for the past months since you moved schools, away from home.
Today, you were strolling around Shibuya, along with your younger sister. You had missed her quite a lot, considering how the two of you have been away from each other for a long time. She’s also hugged you tightly prior, so it seemed like she’s also missed her older sister as well. You both had a good bond with each other.
The two of you enjoyed each other’s company well. Your sister was filled with excitement as she jumped around and cheered. You couldn’t help but smile as well, it was the first time in a long time that you were able to enjoy a moment like this.
That, until…
“[S/N]?!!”
—
“Uh,” A little girl approaches Akechi, who’s currently checking the time as he stands outside of the train station.
“Hello—“ Akechi had greeted back, but a confused expression formed in his face as soon as he looked below him.
“…” The little girl doesn’t speak. She only grips on Akechi’s clothes.
“Ah,” Akechi kneels down to her height, slowly placing his briefcase down. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where’s your mom?”
“…No..” She pouts. “Big… My big sis..”
“Your big sister?” Akechi responds.
Tears started to form in the girl’s eyes, “…I ran away.. now I can’t find her..”
“Do you recall the last place you were in before you got lost?” Akechi pats her back to reassure her that he will help her.
“T’was just outside… with many people… I’m so… scared…”
Akechi pats her head and wipes her tears. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you find her, okay?”
She nods, and a smile forms in her face. The two of them had began walking, Akechi accompanying her. as they both make their way to look for the little girl’s sister.
“What’s your name, mister?” The girl asks.
“You can call me.. Akechi.” Akechi replies.
“OK! Thank you for helping me, Akechi-kun!”
Akechi smiles back at her, “Don’t worry about it.” He then questions, “What’s the name of your big sister? Perhaps I know her.”
“[Reader]..”
Akechi’s eyes widen at the mention of your name, and had remained silent for a moment. Before speaking, he shook his head. “Ah, I don’t know her.”
“Do you think she will find me…?”
“Yes, I’m sure of it.” Akechi smiles down at her, as he holds her hand. The girl seemed to be hopeful now that she’s less nervous.
—
Evening had passed already, and you still haven’t seen your little sister. You felt even more anxious because what if someone had taken her away? You felt so nervous and blamed yourself for not looking after her more.
You had asked every store owner of the shops in the underground mall if they’ve seen a little girl with the clothes your sister wore, but it seemed like none of them didn’t. The same problem in central street—none of them had seen her.
The people in central street decreased, which made you even more nervous because your sister is still nowhere to be found. You felt disappointed at yourself, as you walked, until…
“Do you like this?” A familiar voice is heard from the distance.
“Yes! My sister introduced me this!” Another voice which seemed to be similar to your sister’s was heard. It could be heard from outside the bookstore.
Your head immediately tilted as you looked to your right—It was your sister, and… your past lover.
“[S/N]?!” You froze on the spot, felt like crying out of anxiousness. The two individuals looked at you at the same time.
“Big sis!!!!” Your sister ran outside towards you, hugging you from below.
“[S/N]! Are you alright?!” You patted her back and kneeled down to her height, comforting her as well before she started crying.
“Shhh…” You patted her head, “It’s fine, I’m here now, I’m sorry.”
“No! I’m sorry, sis… I ran away.. I’m a bad person…”
“No, no you’re not! I should’ve looked after you more. If I had paid attention, you wouldn’t be lost..” You comforted her, and smiled after. “At least you’re safe, don’t think too much about it, okay?”
While the two of you had your sibling moment, Akechi couldn’t help but smile. He never knew that you had a younger sibling. During you and his’ past relationship, you had never brought up that you had a sibling at all. Although, whatever he’s witnessing right now, it makes him happy.
She nods in response. “Also,” You slowly stood up as she continues to grip on your clothes and continue to comfort her.
You look away. “…Thank you, Goro.”
“It’s nothing.” Akechi smiles. “I didn’t know you had a younger sister? She’s actually just like you. You take care of her well.”
“…” You averted your gaze, flushed from what he had just said.
“…Forget it—“
“Big sis!” Your sister who was just crying, is now suddenly patting you continuously, “I’m sorry… for talking to strangers, but Akechi-kun is a good person! He helped me, he didn’t hurt me! He even bought me this book! Isn’t this the one you like?”
Your eyes widened, Akechi bought your sister… the book you like?!
You felt embarrassed, “I-I have to pay you, I was—“
Akechi insists, “No, Isn’t this the one you wanted since last year?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Then keep it, you don’t have to pay me.” Akechi pats his clothes before leaving, “I have to leave now, for work.”
“Awww…” Your sister pouts. “Will we see each other again, Akechi-kun?”
“Maybe.” Akechi kneels down to her height, “Promise me you’ll behave and be a good girl to your sister, okay?”
“Yes!” Your sister replies cheerfully. You didn’t even realize you were smiling already.
Akechi then stands up and greets you good bye. But before leaving, he gently takes your arm and whispered to you something unexpected.
“Can we meet tomorrow, at Kichijoji? Perhaps at Jazz Jin, the place we used to always spend time together.”
#goro akechi#goro akechi x reader#akechi goro#akechi goro x reader#persona 5 royal#persona 5#persona 5 x reader
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