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cc--2224 · 7 days

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I Told You So

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Summary: After a mission goes wrong, Tech realizes that you are more precious to him than he originally thought, and though he is upset that you didn’t listen to him, he is more upset that he nearly lost you. And he intends to finally do something about it.

Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Slight canon typical violence and mentions of injuries in whatever plot this has, smut; oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!!), porn with feelings, possessive Tech, slight praise kink? language

Notes: I don’t know where this came from, it has been a minute since I’ve written anything remotely spicy let alone an actual smut fic. But please let me know what you think!

Word Count: 5.5k

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

Masterlist

Edit: Thank you all for the likes and reblogs!! I hope you enjoyed it 💚

"It is unwise for any of us to go out on our own, we should be working in teams of two." Tech pointed out as you were gearing up for your mission. You were to locate and rescue a Republic senator who had been imprisoned by the Separatists and bring them back to Coruscant.

"There's an odd number, we can't go in teams of two." You pointed out. "I can handle myself, I don't want to divide your squad."

Ever since you had teamed up with Clone Force 99, you had gotten to know them well, but you still felt like an outsider. In some ways, you were, but you never really felt like one of the team. It wasn't uncommon for you to be the odd one out for teamwork, and to you, this was no different.

In truth, you had always hoped to be partnered with Tech when you were given the briefing, but his talents were more complementary with one of his brothers. Ever since you met him, you were drawn to him, his brains, his demeanor, the way he lit up when speaking about something that interested him which ended up being nearly everything. He was handsome and skilled, and he welcomed you into the squad immediately, over the following months, you began developing feelings for him.

It never hindered your performance on missions, not only because you were never paired up with him, but you were good at compartmentalizing your feelings from your work. You wanted to get closer to him, but there never seemed to be a good time, and even if there was, you just didn't know how to bridge the gap.

"You can join Crosshair and myself, it will be safe for you." He suggested.

"We'll cover more ground in three groups. I'll be fine, I doubt there are even going to be any platoons that far out."

Tech shrugged, "Suit yourself. I will send you the coordinates for our rendezvous point. Keep your comm on."

You nodded and left the Marauder with your equipment.

You had no idea that this mission would be more dangerous than many you had encountered, but Tech knew, he always did.

As you approached the outskirts of the village, you saw a clear path straight through to the compound where you suspected the senator was held. It seemed a little too good to be true, there should have been droids out here, not full platoons, but someone keeping watch.

You drew your blaster to be safe, and crept onward, keeping an eye out for anything out of place. You could hear chatter over the comms of the others checking in with each other, and then you heard Tech say your name.

“All clear. As I said.”

Tech didn’t reply and you lowered the volume on your comm, still keeping it on, but not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

You had made it about halfway through the clearing when you saw blaster fire strike about ten paces to your left. You looked up, trying to see where it came from when you saw a platoon of B1s headed your way.

“Easy work.” You mumbled to yourself, aiming your blaster forward, shooting them as they neared you.

It was easy work at first, but there didn’t seem to be an end to them. When you’d shoot one, two more would appear, and before you could even disable a squadron of them, a tank appeared over the horizon.

“Kriff.” You said.

You considered calling for backup, but your pride couldn’t handle Tech telling you that he told you so, so instead you took a grenade out of your pack and threw it toward the platoon. It didn’t seem to damage the tank, but it at least got rid of the marching battle droids.

If you had raised your comm to ask for help, you would have heard Hunter say that the target was secure, and call for everyone to return to the ship, but you were the only one who didn’t check in.

“Tech, Crosshair, you two go find her. Wrecker and I will bring the senator back to the ship.” Hunter told them.

They left their post and headed to your last known location.

“Why didn’t she just join our team?” Crosshair finally asked.

“I did suggest it, but due to her stubborn nature, she was certain she would be fine on her own.” Tech’s tone indicated his annoyance. He wanted to be as annoyed as he sounded, but more than anything he was worried.

He liked having you around, you were always willing to listen to him prattle on about whatever topic was on his mind. You were kind, you treated him and his brothers well. The idea that you could be taken from them had never crossed his mind until now. Unlike you, he had no idea of the way he felt about you. He had rarely had feelings for anyone before, he didn’t know how it was supposed to feel. All he knew was that he didn’t want to sit through a briefing without you, or ramble on about some useless topic without you intently listening, and he didn’t want your last conversation to be the last conversation. He didn’t want to be right about this one thing.

When they saw the explosion in the distance, he began to fear he was right.

The tank fired toward you, it missed its mark and you were able to avoid a direct hit, but the explosion was just a little too close. You were sent flying back from the shock wave, and you could hear buzzing in your ear before everything went black.

If you hadn't gone out on your own, someone could have been looking out for you. Tech could have been looking out for you, just as he insisted upon.

But instead, you were so certain you could handle yourself that you had gotten yourself in trouble.

You woke up in your bunk, bandaged and sore, but still alive. You didn’t know what happened, and you weren’t exactly eager to find out, but you knew you had to face everyone eventually.

Wrecker smiled at you when you walked into the cockpit, “Well look who’s finally awake!”

Crosshair didn’t say anything, instead looking at the back of Tech’s chair.

You heard a sigh, and then Tech turned his chair around, eyeing you up and down.

“Something you need to say?” He finally asked.

“What happened with the mission?”

Hunter spoke, “Got the senator. We’ll be arriving on Coruscant shortly.”

Had you really been asleep that long?

"I told you you should not have gone on your own." It seemed Tech was tired of the small talk.

You looked at him, unsure of what he wanted you to say. “I was just doing my part of the mission, nothing I did was out of line. I didn't know there would be that many droids on the outskirts." It was a losing argument, and one you'd rather not have in the cockpit of the Marauder in front of everyone, but Tech didn't seem interested in anything but the argument.

"Precisely. If you had gone with Crosshair and I, you would not have encountered those droids. And now you are injured because of your own mistake." He had raised his voice, something you’d never heard him do.

You flinched slightly at his words but he continued, “What happened to keeping your comm on? We were trying to reach you.”

“My comm was on!” You retorted, “Just turned it down so I wouldn’t be spotted.”

“Yes well, a lot of good that did you.” He responded sarcastically. “We might not be there to save you next time. Keep that in mind before you choose to do something so reckless.” He turned away from you, facing the front again.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the back of the chair, "I didn’t ask to be saved, in fact I’d rather be back there with the droids. Maybe then-"

Hunter cut into your argument. "That is enough, both of you."

He looked at you with his eyebrows knit together, "Go lay down, rest is going to help your injuries, arguing is not."

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, you turned and went to your bunk.

After you were out of earshot, Hunter spoke to Tech.

"What was that about? You can't just yell at her, she got hurt, she learned her lesson already."

"As I have mentioned, she would not have-"

"Stow it. We all know what's going on between you, even if you don't. You need to figure it out before your next outburst." Hunter turned in his chair to face the front of the ship again. Tech looked on at the dancing lights of hyperspace.

Tech didn’t speak to you for the next week. The five of you were granted time off after saving the senator and you had all decided to spend it on Coruscant, but with the tension in the ship, it didn’t seem like much of a vacation.

You knew that all you had to do was apologize, but you didn’t feel like you did anything wrong.

You knew the others were getting tired of yours and Tech’s attitudes; they all knew that it was more than just the mission. They knew about your feelings for each other, and they knew how worried Tech had been as he treated your wounds and bandaged you up.

The only thing they could do was to force a resolution.

“Okay, we’ve had enough.” Hunter said loud enough for both you and Tech to hear at opposite ends of the ship. “We’re all going out. And that includes the two of you.”

He slammed down a flyer he had found for a gondola ride through the upper levels, complete with all the sights Coruscant had to offer.

“Is that really necessary?” You asked, glancing at Tech from the corner of your eye. You couldn’t think of anything less beneficial than the five of you being cramped together in a confined space you couldn’t leave.

“It isn’t a request.” Hunter informed you.

You sighed and left the ship, followed by the others, and finally Tech, and you made your way to the park where the dock was located.

The five of you slowly arrived at the front of the queue, and when it was your turn, you were shoved into a gondola along with Tech. None of the other batchers joined you, but before you thought to exit, the vessel's door had closed and you were moving.

You sat down on the bench across from Tech, still avoiding eye contact by looking out the window, arms crossed.

Tech still kept his silence. Even a week later, he was still considering Hunter's words. Was there something between him and you? He knew he didn’t want to lose you, but that was completely normal, wasn't it? And even if it wasn’t normal, that doesn’t mean whatever he felt was reciprocated. But if you did return his feelings, he knew this might be one of the only chances he had to act on it, to tell you how he felt.

When the gondola had reached nearly the top of the track, the view overlooking the Jedi temple, he sighed and finally looked at you.

"You see, I... I felt responsible for your injuries."

"You felt responsible?" You repeated after a pause. "Wasn't it my fault that I got injured? For not following your oh-so-wise plan?"

You were acting petulant, but your emotions were still running high and the confined space didn't help.

"Well yes, if you had done as I suggested, you would have been free from injury."

"Right, because you know everything."

"Crosshair and I left with zero injuries. So yes, this I know to be fact."

"Do you really have to say 'I told you so'? I'm sorry, is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry that I got hurt because I didn't l-"

You didn't have time to react before you felt Tech's lips upon yours. One hand was on the side of your face and the other was digging into your waist.

The vessel rocked slightly at his movement, causing you to grip onto the bench. Your eyes were still wide at the sudden contact, but when he didn't back away, you closed your eyes and deepened the kiss, moving your hands to place them on his chest.

He stopped to take a breath, his lips still hovering tantalizingly close over yours, breathing you in, committing your perfumed smell to memory.

You closed the gap this time when you decided he had enough time to catch his breath.

His tongue darted out and swiped across your lip, asking for access to explore. You allowed it, moaning into his mouth when you felt his tongue against yours.

In one swift movement, he sat on the bench and pulled you into his lap, resuming the kiss once you had situated yourself.

Your hands moved up, resting on his shoulders briefly before snaking your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. You could feel his strong hands massaging your thighs before resting on your ass, testing the waters by giving it a squeeze, you bucked your hips slightly in response.

You could feel a coiling sensation in your stomach, a heat pulsing through you, and pooling out onto your panties. You wanted him, and you could feel based on his actions and the stiff bulge in his pants that he wanted you just as badly.

He broke the kiss, and moved his head back, causing you to chase after his kiss. He put a finger to your lips and smirked.

"You must be patient, the gondola ride is near the end of its course, and I still have more to say about the mission."

You frowned in protest, feeling all that heat suddenly dissipate as he gently pushed you off of him.

"Not to worry, the Marauder is nearby, no one else will be there and we can continue our conversation there, if that is what you want."

You nodded in agreement.

"I apologize, but I will need to hear an answer before I can comply."

"Yes, I want that." You said too quickly, trying and failing to not sound too desperate.

He smirked again. "Good girl. You and I still have much to discuss."

You whined slightly at his praise, then waited for the door to open as you neared the dock.

After disembarking, Tech grabbed your hand, pushing past the people exiting their respective vessels. Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair were nearby, but you didn't see them as Tech ushered you back toward the landing port.

"I guess they finally talked about it." Wrecker had said, staring wide-eyed after you two.

"We should probably give them some privacy so they can talk more." Hunter shook his head, smirking toward the ground.

"Just as long as they don't talk in my bunk." Crosshair said as he crossed his arms.

The door to the Marauder wooshed open, and the two of you hurried on board. Tech was back on you before it could close again.

He pushed you back into the wall, pinning you there as he kissed you. Placing hot kisses on your lips, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he could.

"Do you realize how worried I was when I saw you?" He asked between kisses. "When I heard the explosion, when I rushed over only to find your body on the ground?"

He stopped kissing you and looked into your eyes, "I thought I lost you before you were even mine to lose."

"Tech.." You tried to move a hand from his grip to place it on his face, but he tightened his hold on it. “I’m sorry.”

“I do not want your apologies.” He told you, “I want you by my side, I want you to be safe. I…” He kissed you again, this time more roughly, eliciting a moan from you again. “I want you to be mine.”

Behind his goggles, his pupils were dilated, his eyes half-lidded.

The coiling feeling returned. Your stomach was in knots. You had never seen Tech like this before, you hadn’t seen him behave so possessively, and you wanted to see more of it.

"Then make me yours." You said, only a whisper. “I want to be yours.”

His mouth found yours again, not bothering to ask you to give his tongue space to enter but instead forcing it past your lips. His knee slotted itself between your legs, close enough to tease you, but not close enough to give you friction where you desired it most. You bucked your hips trying to find it on your own, and he smiled into the kiss.

"What do you want, mesh’la?" He asked you.

You bucked again in response. He removed one hand from yours and brought it down, pushing your hips back against the wall so you couldn't move them again.

"I told you, I need to hear your words. Tell me what you want."

"I want you. I-I need you."

"Then I should not keep you waiting."

He let go of your hip, and with the hand that was still holding yours above you, he guided you over toward the console.

"Here?" You asked.

"Well, of course." He guided your hips downward so that you were seated. "I cannot help but think about how pretty you would look while I fucked you right on the console of my ship."

You let out an involuntary moan at just his words alone.

He caressed the side of your face, and with a feather-light stroke across your jaw, he tilted your chin up to meet your gaze. Despite his words just a moment ago, he placed a gentle kiss on your lips once more, and his hand slowly traveled down your neck, over your breast, down your stomach, and rested at the hem of your shirt.

He looked into your eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded eagerly and he pulled your shirt up over your head. He tossed it onto the seat behind him and then looked at you, admiring the newly uncovered parts of you.

"Beautiful." He whispered. Out of everything done so far, this one word was enough to make you blush, you tried to turn your head away but he stopped you.

Leaning down over you, he placed a kiss on your shoulder, then your collarbone, trailing down to your breasts, still obstructed by your bra. His lips kissed the top of one, while his hand held the other over the fabric. You reached behind your back and unclasped it, giving him access to another part of you where you wanted to feel his touch.

He tutted quietly. "I could have done that myself."

You rolled your eyes jokingly and he resumed allowing his lips to explore your skin, now alternating between kissing and sucking. And where his lips weren't, his hands were. Squeezing the flesh, thumbing over your nipple while his mouth worked on the other.

Soon, he continued his exploration, and as he neared your stomach, he lowered himself down until he was kneeling between your thighs.

His gaze was hungry as it focused on your center, his lips formed a tight line, holding his mouth closed to prevent his tongue from hanging out.

His hands were on your knees, he trailed them up your thighs, stopping at the waistband of your pants, once again looking up at you to ask your permission. You situated yourself to make it easier for him to remove them, and soon they too were discarded, thrown back toward the pilot chair. His hands were back on your thighs, prodding the soft skin, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on each of them, sucking them enough to leave marks.

You whined, both at the sensation of him marking your legs, but also at the lack of sensation where you really wanted him to be.

He smirked up at you, and then spread your legs further apart, slowly moving his face toward your aching cunt. He could see how turned on you were, and he licked his lips before speaking.

"Stars, you appear to be soaked."

"Mmhm." Was all you could manage, all your attention was on the fact that he was inches away from giving you the friction you needed.

"Cyar'ika.." He scolded. "Words. You need something of me, what is it?"

"I... I just need you, I need your mouth, your fingers, your cock, I-I need to feel you." Your desperate words turned his gaze dark.

"Good girl, telling me everything you want," his praise caused you to squirm, trying to close your thighs just to feel friction, but he held them open.

"You enjoy it when I call you that?"

"Gods, yes." You moaned.

He hummed in response, keeping that knowledge filed away.

He finally pressed his face forward, nose rubbing against your clothed pussy. You whined in response. He dragged the tip of his nose upward, knowing exactly where you wanted to be touched, and he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, relishing in your whines and pleas for him to finally take them off of you, and soon he relented, letting them join the rest of your clothes before he dove in.

He ate you like a man starved, licking you through your folds, tasting as much of you as he could.

"G-ah, fuck, Tech," you cried out, your hands reaching for his hair. The feeling of your hands gripping his hair causing him to groan.

His lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between sucking it and circling his tongue around it. He could feel you squirming at his touch and he reached one hand up, resting it on your hips, hoping to help anchor your.

With his other hand, he circled your entrance, teasing you, making you beg him to touch you before he obliged.

He slid one long finger into you as far as he could, pressing against the spongy walls, exactly where you needed to feel him.

He let go of your clit and let his tongue run up and down your folds, getting another taste of your juices.

"M-mmo-" You began to say, being cut off by the feeling of his tongue making another swipe up.

"My apologies, you will have to repeat yourself." He looked up at you, his face slick with your arousal.

"More, I need more."

He raised an eyebrow and plunged another finger into you. Your head rolled back and you cried out.

"Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes!"

Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling his face back into you. His hot breath fanned against your cunt and you sighed in contentment.

"Gods, you are a needy thing." His purred, his voice vibrated against you as he attached himself to your clit again.

He sucked on you while his fingers made scissor patterns inside you, all the while you could feel the coil start to tighten.

"I'm close-" You cried out. He didn't change anything about his rhythm. He strived to get you there, he was eager to please you after he had been so harsh toward you earlier. His tongue circled your clit and he could feel you pulsing around his fingers.

You could feel the heat growing in your stomach, your moans got louder as you got closer. He slid his fingers out, and before you could complain about the loss, you felt his tongue swiping up and down before dipping inside you. His fingers resumed drawing circles on your clit as he drank from you.

Your thighs clenched together, forcing him to stay exactly where he was, you muttered out a string of curses as the coil finally snapped and you cried his name as you came undone. He kept lapping at you until you were through.

You released your hold on his hair and he stood back up.

"You taste magnificent," He smirked, licking your arousal off his fingers before his mouth found yours again. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he leaned you back onto the console. You shuddered when you felt his stiffened cock press against you. His hands began grabbing at your breasts and your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him in.

"You are perfect." He said as he began kissing every piece of you he could. He locked onto your neck, he kissed you fervently, then gently bit down, giving you a mark that would be difficult to hide from the others, not that they didn’t already have an idea of what was going on here. But that’s what Tech wanted, he wanted to show everyone that you were his.

"Tech.." You said quietly,

"Mm?"

"I want to see you." You pushed yourself back up onto your elbows and looked into his eyes.

For a moment, just for a moment, he froze, but soon enough, his hands moved to the fastener on his pants.

"Let me do that."

He smirked and helped you off the console gently.

You worked on the buttons on his shirt first, unbuttoning them slowly, placing gentle kisses on his chest as each loose button reveals it to you.

He tilted your chin up and leaned in for a kiss, pressing against you. You could feel his stiff bulge press into you again and your hands moved faster to unbutton his shirt.

You pushed it off his shoulders when it's finally unbuttoned, and you looked at his toned chest. You knew he'd be strong but it was still a surprise to you. Your fingers danced across his torso, feeling the muscles under his smooth skin, before finally landing on the fastener of his pants.

You look up at him, just as he did for you, asking for his permission. He pressed his forehead against yours in response, you smiled and kissed his lips, then moved to undo the fastening. He helped you to slide his pants off, and he stepped out of them, kicking them off to the side.

You could see the outline of his cock much clearer against his briefs and you could feel your mouth water, you clenched your thighs together, not wanting to wait to feel it inside of you. He raised an eyebrow at you.

"You desire it so badly?" He asked you, forcing your gaze away from it and back up to him.

You nod quickly, "Yes."

He smiled then rutted his hips against you, "Then please, continue."

Your hands moved to the waistband of his briefs, he moved his lips to yours again and you returned the kiss before kissing along his jaw, then his neck. You peeled the waistband down and he hissed as his briefs grazed across his cock. They had soon joined the rest of the clothes and you looked down.

You bit your bottom lip and you started to lower yourself down but he stopped you. You gave him a confused look, and he smirked.

"There will be plenty of time for that at a later time. But for now,"

He continued by guiding you back onto the console, laying your back down and he stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked.

"Yes," you assured him.

You felt his cock rub against your folds, before he positioned himself at your entrance.

"Ready?" He asked.

You bucked your hips in response and he pushed himself in without another word.

You arched your back as you felt him stretch you open, if there was any pain, it quickly turned into pleasure as he buried himself in you inch by inch.

When he was fully sheathed, he gave you a moment to adjust before he started to move. He started out slow, he made sure that you were used to the feeling of his thrusts before he picked up the pace.

"Gods, you are taking me so well, cyar'ika."

You replied with a moan. You bucked your hips to meet his pace and he smirked.

"Is there something you want?"

"Mmm p-please, go fas-faster" you answered between thrusts.

"Very well," He obliged, his hands gripped onto your thighs and he buried himself again, quickening his pace at your request. He looked at you as you took his cock, the way your back arched, how your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your face contorted in pleasure.

He tightened his grip on your thighs, you took that as a hint to wrap your legs around his waist and he moaned in response, feeling himself go even deeper inside you.

"You are so perfect, such a good girl for me." Your walls clenched around his cock at his praise.

He thrusted into you harder wanting to explore the new angle he was permitted.

“Fu-uck,” you whined.

"Is this okay?" He asked, unsure of if he was hurting you.

"Gods, yes!"

He set a brutal pace, but you bucked your hips, meeting his thrusts each time.

Tech could feel himself nearing his climax, his pace started to become slightly more erratic. He slid one hand down your thigh toward your center. He circled your clit with his thumb, intending on sending you over the edge with him.

Your walls clenched around him again at the contact. You were getting close again. Your moans grew louder as you neared the edge.

"That's it," He said, he wanted to feel you come undone again. He continued circling your clit as he thrusted into you. "Be a good girl and come for me once more, come on my cock."

Your second orgasm crashed over you without as much of a warning as the first, your legs tightened around him, he slowed his thrusts down, helping you through it, and he moaned at how your walls constricted him. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Wh.. Where do you want me?" He asked.

"In-inside," you said, still overcoming the last of the waves of pleasure.

He didn't ask any further questions, he buried himself as far as he could before he stilled, his cock twitching inside you as he painted your walls with hot ropes of his seed.

He moaned out your name as he finished, feeling himself soften inside of you, he pulled himself out of you and you pushed yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his lips, your tongue darting into his mouth.

He returned the kiss, holding you close to him, and his hands traveled across your thighs, before lifting you up from the console.

“I love you.” You told him, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you. “I think I always have, but… In case it still wasn’t obvious.”

He smiled and carried you toward the refresher, sitting you down on the counter when you arrived, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. “Perhaps it was not obvious over the last week, but now, I would have more questions if you did not.” He smiled at you, “I love you too. But next time, if I ask you to join me on a mission instead of going off on your own, please listen to me.”

“But look where it brought us.” You replied with a smirk.

“Perhaps that is true, but for your own information, you do not need to nearly get yourself killed in order for me to fuck you. You could have just asked.”

He grabbed a towel before he quickly left to retrieve your clothes and clean off the console. Tech soon returned to you and turned the water on, helping you off the counter and guiding you to the shower where he joined you. It didn’t take long for his lips to be on you once again.

While it was your stubbornness that led you to this point in the first place, you were suddenly very eager to see what would happen on the next mission, should you and Tech finally be paired together.

191 notes · View notes

kamatha · 7 months

Note

I love the idea of leafling scars!! Such a cool idea but I’ve never seen anyone draw anything life that! Maybe I’m biased because I like Bernard.

Had this idea brewing since the game came out and there are SO many ways it could be applied to imply extra stories for Bernard and the castaways! I have no idea when else I'll be able to talk about this in length so thank you for sending this I can finally ramble!!!

To summarize:

Cured castaways are left with vine stitches that protect and keep together any internal or external injuries (may or may not disappear once the injury is fully healed)

The pikmin parasite potencially focuses on the head to control the host

The longer they're a leafling the more vibrant the hue left on the skin is. (I wasn't sure how much of a tomato Olimar would be)

Flowers can bloom in their leafy coats

Despite being brought into the same Onion they have different types of leaves/vines/flowers

I left it ambiguous whether or not castaways are still being healed after they've been turned into leaflings

Other info and ideas I didn't include:

A lot of times the plant grown will be poisonous ie. a yellow leafling grows buttercups. This is to protect them from predators.

Marks resembiling their leafling eyes might be visible on their corneas

Drinking nectar gives them a similar effect to the pikmin; blooming flower, faster speed (maybe strength? forgot if that's boosted), they also get "extra lives" but their pain receptors are more sensitive than the pikmin so they get temporarilly incapacitated for longer

Keeping it ambiguous if castaways are straight up revived from the dead or need to be brought in while they're still hanging on (there's so much story potential if theres a time limit tho!)

They might be able to use the vines as a second limb (I accidentally drew Olimar's vine too low so he probably has a vine tail now)

Dunno if I did Yonny's speech pattern justice here (still experimenting) but-

I REALLY wished we could've gotten notes from Yonny about this since he got to see them up close. And dang it I'm really curious about how the leaflings work, I get that they're all dandori n stuff but what if the pink ones can fly or the purple ones are stronger. Maybe all of them except blue leaflings get hurt by water.

So many questions and no answers, and so much design and story potential!!!

I cut the image in case tumblr's compression kicks me.

This was a pretty fun way to start drawing the castaways too. Now I'm really tempted to draw everyone's leafling forms (I may have already picked flowers for the rescue corps team based on their symbolism)

#pikmin 4 #pikmin 4 spoilers #yonny pikmin #bernard pikmin #fan art #captain olimar #leafling #castaway #kamatha answers

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xxspirit · 5 months

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Hi guys!! Sorry I haven’t been active for a while, just wanted to check in since it’s been like half of a month lool

I was taking a break from tumblr and drawing in general to focus a bit more on school, but now I think I’m stuck in art block which is poo cause I wanna draw now rgrgrggr 😡😡😡

But I figured I could share with you my upcoming projects that I’ll be working on sooner or later:

✦first I have some asks, about 4-6 of them I can’t can’t remember how many :V I’ve been trying to work mainly on 3 of them, but haven’t really gotten anywhere :c

✦Second I have a silly comic idea I want to draw soon. featuring the baby boy- well it’s mainly about Dream and swap but baby boy will be there too- I’m waiting to start after I respond to at least 1 or 2 asks

✦I want to do something for Christmas, prolly nothing big but something simple and sweet, which I’m aiming to post it on Christmas or the day before(I’m thinking of drawing sum ship kids for this one :>)

✦I have super cute Dreamberry drawing idea, I’m hoping to make it animated(gif)!! Have no clue when I’ll make this but I really am excited about the idea and I hope I stick with it

✦finally, I was also thinking I could do art dump for end of the year- kinda like a new year special—idrk(not posted drawings, unfinished pieces & decent doodles)

And that’s all for now, I’m hoping to get this all posted before the end of the year, I do have a break coming too, which will be awesome so I can have more time to draw but ya-

Thanks for letting me blabber! Hope u have a good day or night!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

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jamneuromain · 9 months

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Highway to Hell - Shared

Series Masterlist

Series summary: A failed mission brought you once again back on earth, a punishment that’s more pleasurable than you'd normally expect punishments to be. Your punishment? Corrupting people’s thoughts. It’s easy, in a very simple way: sexual pleasure. Turns out no man can resist such a beauty like you.

And who were you? Oh, just the devil's child.

A/N: This is a drabble of what would the four men do when they find out you have been dancing among them. Spoiler alert: they decide to share. Applause to the amazing @rogerswifesblog / @rogerswifesblog-updates who help me write this series and provide many excellent ideas to put in the fic <333

Pairings: Cop Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Priest Steve Rogers x Reader, Bartender Ari Levinson x Reader, Uncle Curtis Everett x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Gangbang, Dub con, Double Penetration, P in V, Anal, Oral (Male Receiving), Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (implied), Power Imbalance, Spanking, Threesome (implied), Overstimulation, Creampie (implied), Cum Play, Dummification (just a little), slightly dark(?

On second thought, you shouldn’t have trusted Steve, who told you he needed to speak to you in somewhere private.

And you trusted him. Following him to where he said it would be “peace and quiet”.

Or else, you wouldn’t be cornered by four fuming men in a hotel room, all knowing that you have slept with them separately, while thinking they must have been your only one.

Who would doubt an innocent girl that did nothing than to accept their “generous” offer?

Lloyd, obviously.

“Smart move, sunshine.” The man with a moustache twitches his lips, far from amused, “Telling us that you are shy and rather we won’t tell anybody? Intimate moves forbidden in public? Too bad your little plan didn’t work out.”

“I didn’t plan anything.” You lie to their faces. While in fact you did, carefully choosing your “target”. Lloyd was the unexpected one of them though, since he asked you to pull over as you should have gotten a speed ticket.

“Public?” Steve grinds his teeth before growling, his temper on the thin line of exploding, “I fucked her right in the church. There were only two of us. But still…” Drawing a cross in front of his chest, Steve murmurs a few prayers silently, regardless of the other three men watching him in curiosity.

Lloyd snaps his head back to you, flashing a wolfish glint in his eyes, “The point is, you made us feel very bad about ourselves, sunshine.”

“Yeah, well, you should be proud of yourselves. I wasn’t planning on expanding the list of the men I’ve slept with.” You snap back.

“And we’re supposed to … what? Gloat?” Curtis casually says, taking off his coat, blocking the window, and probably your only hope of escaping, as Lloyd leans on the door.

“If you don’t like it. Feel free to cancel my monthly subscription.” You retort his sarcasm, crossing your arm in front of your chest.

“Gentlemen,” Ari hums in a low voice so that everyone could pay him some attention. He’s been silent ever since Steve led you into this room, “obviously we need more than a ‘monthly’ drop-by.”

The men nod in unison.

“Although we haven’t clarified the specific terms, I believe we should use her whenever we please. And, of course, as we all agree to, share.” Ari smiles at you, but says the darkest thing you could ever imagine.

This was definitely not part of your plan.

“I’ll ask Jake whether he wants to be part of this.” Curtis throws an icy glare at you, “I doubt he would be a problem though. He has shared with me before.”

Lloyd mutters a “fuck”. While Steve is still mulling over his sin-clarification.

“Shall we start?” Ari is shrugging off his leather jacket as he speaks, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt.

“You can’t-” You cry in panic as the four men close in, surrounding you in the middle, “this is against the law … or something at least.”

“Oh sunshine, I am the law in this town.” Lloyd grabs your chin, his psychopathic grin gives you shivers down to your spine, “and you should be glad we decide to forgive you and share you. Or I could tie you up in my basement and invite my new friends over, occasionally.”

You draw a deep breath.

Tears burning. Your jaw hurting. Your dripping holes spreading wide open for two cocks.

“You like that, don’t you?” Lloyd groans as he squeezes your hand tighter, guiding you to stroke his hard cock.

“Yeah she does.” Steve agrees quietly before you could answer. He knees on the couch to push his cock further in your swollen pussy, “Christ. She’s so tight.”

“Wait till you’ve tried her ass, Priest.” Ari brings his hand firmly down your ass cheek, painting it red – as if it weren’t pink and hand-printed already, “that ass is fucking heaven.” He chuckles darkly, kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear, gripping your waist, making sure you are fully seated on his thick member, “or should I say hell?”

Stuffed to the fullest with two cocks in both of your holes, you couldn’t do more than let out a mere whimper.

“Can’t believe I’ve bought her stupid acts.” Curtis spits out through gritted teeth as he feels your throat takes his cock again as far as it could, your whimper vibrates his cock. In return, he tugs your hair without mercy, “all those innocent girly acts. Fuck.”

“We all bought it.” Lloyd eyes Curtis, raising his eyebrows, mocking Curtis, “and speaking from a man that has shared her with his son before, seriously? Innocent?”

Curtis huffs but does not bother to answer.

“My turn.” As Lloyd pulls your hair, and choke you on his cock, leaving Curtis slightly irritated.

You were used by these four men for hours. Each has painted your body, both inside and outside in milky-white substance, bringing you orgasms after orgasms. Your holes red, leaking, and abused.

“No more.” You grip Lloyd’s thigh to keep balance, sniffling when he lets your head go and breathe, battling your eyelashes, but they are heavy with tears that you can’t see his expression, “hurt too much.”

“Heard that?” Lloyd barks out laughter, wiping his cock on your face, leaving traces of your saliva and cum on your rosy cheek, “she said she can’t take it, boys.”

Ari grunts out of disagreement, his fingers dancing around your rim, attempting to squeeze one in alongside his cock, “she was screaming and moaning just fine for hours. Lies.”

“Ari, please,” The helplessness inside you bubbles and fuels to your tears, “I just can’t.”

Steve peppers a trail of kisses down your throat, nibbing your shoulder, while toying with your sensitive clit, “I guess you have to be a strong girl for us then. Don’t you want to be good for all of us, hmm? We’re prepping you. More might join, you know.” He speaks softly, comforting you as always. The panting on the joint between your neck and shoulder increases when your pussy grips him. Still, he mouths your breasts, sucking little red marks on them.

“Steve-” You feel torn apart. The four men bringing you pleasure, but in their own way. As if your body belongs to them separately. And the coil in your stomach threatens to snap with greater pain and pleasure than you could withstand.

A rough hand grips your chin, forcing you to turn the other way.

The hand that has hold you for countless times, on your back with a friendly pat.

Curtis.

“She’s not dumb yet. She can still talk.” Curtis talks about you as if you are an object in front of him, having you clench down your thigh involuntarily. It’s degrading, but it arouses you so much than you should admit. “I’d say she could take more.” The dark brooding man inspects your teary eyes and your cum-stained face, “yeah she’s alright.”

“Heard that, sunshine?” Lloyd taps your forehead with his knuckles, “not brain-dead yet.” He grins, “but it does sound empty, folks.”

Steve wipes the cum from your pussy lips, a mixture of the previous men who has thoroughly used it before he did, onto your soft stomach, which compliments your pretty skin and your cute bellybutton. He smiles warmly, though you are not even certain at this point, “she’s always the smartest. I’d say we work harder to satisfy this little devil, hmm?”

With the element of surprise, Ari starts bouncing you on his dick, shamelessly putting his flexing biceps to use, which earns him a few strangled sounds between cries and moans from you.

He simply shrugs, on receiving three other men’s looks, “I am working.”

And you gulp in fright. When Lloyd, with his sadist grin, taps your lips to open for his heavy cock as you still struggle for air.

This would be the start of some many long nights with men more than you could handle.

Taglist: @rosedpetal @dankoiseori @katcutie @peachlle @mrs-marc-spector

#highway to hell #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett smut

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kendrene · 1 year

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Hi Dren!! I hope you're doing well :)

For the prompt ask, 20. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

When Beatrice wakes up, the battered digital alarm clock Ava bought them second-hand reports it’s 3am. The nest of blankets next to her is warm, but empty.

Her most recent dream has left a bad taste in her mouth. Her heart in the back of her throat. Adriel swooping in to take Ava away. Beatrice finding her, too late. The Halo — gone. And Ava — dead.

That’s what has her reaching for the knife she keeps sheatherd under her pillow. What causes her to slide from underneath the covers without making a sound. If Beatrice was being logical about it, she’d admit to being overly cautious. After all, Ava may have gotten up to use the bathroom. But there’s no logic to the fear raking cold claws down her spine, and the dream — the plausibility of it — is still too vivid in her mind.

She can’t discount it.

So, she stalks through the small apartment, takes advantage of all shadows. Shannon taught her how, during her first weeks at Cat’s Cradle. One of the basic lessons, delivered in the dead of night to a class of sleepy girls ripped out of their beds. Beatrice could never forget it. Stood to attention in the moonlit nave of the cathedral, toes curled inward, the soles of her bare feet numbed by the coldness of the marble as Shannon’s voice, a gentle whisper, floated to them from the dark.

She’d explained how to walk in complete silence, talked about the soft trigonometry of shadows. Said that every surface — no matter rain, or shine or starlight — reflects a measurable quantity of light. What materials are used to bend and to absorb it, which pattern and style of clothing is best suited to a mission after dusk.

The theory of it hadn’t seemed hard. The practice — to cross the whole length of the cathedral undetected while senior sisters watched her from above like hawks — was nowhere close to easy.

At the kitchen’s threshold, finally, a sound.

Beatrice folds her body low, crouches in the rectangle of night projected by the dresser. Extends her hand past its wooden corner, blade tilted just so. Mirrored on the edge of sharp damascus steel, the kitchen looks far away and kind of distorted, but the image is clear enough. The window has been thrown wide open to let sweet summer in, and Ava occupies a chair in front of it, her back to the door.

“Ava, what are you doing? It’s late.” Setting the knife on top of the dresser, Beatrice stands. She deliberately steps on the one floorboard that creaks, hoping Ava won’t startle. “You should get some sleep.”

°I tried.” Ava doesn’t turn. “Couldn’t fall asleep and I didn’t want to bother you. Guess I failed, uh?”

“You didn’t. I just woke up and I—” I thought I lost you. I thought he’d found us. I was afraid you were gone. Beatrice breathes in. Pushes the words down. “I needed the toilet.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you, uh, are you coming back to bed?”

A breeze works its way into the kitchen, scattering the maps of the area Beatrice had been studying before sleep. While not exactly cold, the wind carries a hint of a bite on its back. It makes her shiver.

“Not yet.” Ava nods to the square of night framed by the window. “I’ve never seen a sky like this, you know? Had no idea there were so many stars.”

The note of wonder in her voice draws Beatrice closer. She thinks, for no more than a moment, to the bed, now surely chillier than she’d left it. She could go back to it, she’s tired enough to and morning isn’t far, but the truth is she’s too used to Ava’s body next to hers, to the even breathing in her ear to fall asleep alone. Too fond of Ava’s arms, and the way they sometimes tighten around Bea’s waist in her sleep, like Ava, too, might be afraid of losing her.

Dragging an empty chair next to Ava’s, she sits down, not quite in Ava’s space, their shoulders almost touching.

Outside the moon is low, so close to the shadowy outlines of the surrounding rooftops Beatrice swears she could simply reach up and touch it. At the end of its waning phase, it is barely a silver thread stitched into the velvet of the night, and the stars shine brighter from its absence.

Stars. Hundreds, thousands of them. Beatrice hasn’t seen this many in years. Despite Cat’s Cradle vantage point on the hills of Antequera, light pollution from the city muddles the sky a hazy orange, making it much too bright. Only on particularly clear nights does the full spread of the stars appear, and it’s never quite like this. Not this vibrant, or this endless, the void between each pinprick of pulsing light so dark, dark, dark.

“Do you think that’s where we go when we die?” Ava asks, hushed, causing Beatrice’s shoulders to jump. “I saw it on TV somewhere that the light of the stars is millions of years old by the time it reaches us. Some of the stars we are seeing tonight don’t actually exist anymore. But… what if it were souls, instead? Wouldn’t that be better? Maybe my mom —” Ava’s voice breaks over the word, and Beatrice dares not make a sound. Ava rarely talks about her mother. “I mean, maybe it’s people watching over us, and if souls eventually die, too, then it doesn’t matter, does it? Because they leave their light behind for us.”

Ava’s words, the idea of her dying start an ache somewhere deep in Beatrice’s chest. A pain that grows and grows, until her heart feels too heavy to keep beating against the weight of the sorrow that’s threatening to crush it, until all Beatrice can do is to hold back tears.

Her mind lingers on the brevity of life, on how that life may look sans Ava. An empty house, an emptier bed, nothingness for sky no matter the number of stars dotting it each night.

“Ava…” Ava’s gaze is still upturned, enraptured by the spectacle outside. Beatrice is glad for the respite. At least, the tears tracking down her cheeks will have a chance to dry.

“I know,” Ava rocks the chair back with a laugh that sounds a little wet. “Pretty heretical, right? I’m sure that’s what Mother Superion would say, anyway.”

“I think it’s beautiful, what you said, actually.”

“You do?” Ava half-turns, and in the uncertain glow of starlight she is beautiful, too.

“Yeah. Um.” Beatrice clears her throat; the lump constricting it gradually softens. “People have imbued the stars with meaning since, well, since the beginning of mankind, I guess. It’s a comfort.”

“It would comfort me to leave a light on for you, after I’m gone.” The chair falls back in place with a thump. Ava pitches sideways, not shoulder to shoulder with Beatrice anymore, but nearly spilling in her lap. Beatrice’s arms automatically tighten around her.

“You shouldn’t talk like that. You’re not going to die, Ava.”

“Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep, Sister.” Ava pokes at her arm lightly, as if she knows Beatrice had been about to promise that, exactly. “You’re a nun. Nuns shouldn’t lie.”

“I don’t want you to die,” Beatrice admits aloud for the first time. It shocks her how easy the words come out, but perhaps it’s the fault of the dark and the quiet and an infinite sky full of stars. Nighttime makes everything more intimate, more sacred; this is the hour in which secrets that wouldn’t survive the harsh scrutiny of day can be set loose.

Beatrice almost slips Almost gives tangible form to the three words that have been brewing under her tongue. Seriously considers what might happen if she did. Would it be so bad for Ava to go into this war, knowing that she’s loved? Would it make things better? Worse?

She bites the inside of her cheek and tastes blood.

“I don’t want you to die, Ava.” She says instead. A wish, a hope, a plea to any god that might be listening and not only to her own. “And that’s the truth. Nun’s honor.”

“Good.” Ava snuggles in, face slanting into the crook of Beatrice’s neck. Her nose is icy cold. “Because as much as I don’t mind shining down to you from the sky one day, I like it better here.”

Beatrice rests her chin on the crown of Ava’s head, buries her nose in her hair. She can smell a faint trace of the cheap shampoo they share, and summer, the heat. The stars above them pale, then wink out one by one. Beatrice is glad to see the last one gone.

She likes Ava on this Earth, sleeping soundly in her arms better, too.

#warrior nun #avatrice #dren writes #here you go maddie

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gurugirl · 5 months

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hi, guru! would it be possible to get a little teaser for the bfd update 🥹🥹

Ahh sure! Why not? 731 word teaser from the next part below.

“So you don’t think I’m a bad person?”

She chuckled, “Well, I don’t agree with what you did but I could never think you’re a bad person. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

You drank your hot tea and tried to enjoy yourself with your friend but the longer you and Paloma chatted, the more you missed Fae. No one could replace Fae. She was your other half in so many ways.

“Can I ask you a really personal question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

You shrugged, “Okay. Sure.” You had an idea of what she was going to ask based on the fact that you’d gotten onto the topic of birth control.

“Is he good? Now that I’m thinking about him like that I can imagine he is.”

You breathed out laughed through your nose and smiled as you looked down into your tea, “He’s good. Yes.” You weren’t sure how deep into it you wanted to get but you’d entertain her for a bit.

“And I bet he’s got a big… dick.” She whispered the word dick quietly.

That’s where you drew the line. You sipped your warm tea and turned your gaze to the corner of the room where someone was just taking their seat.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she spoke, drawing your attention back to her.

“It’s okay. I’m not sure I want to talk about that anymore, though. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

It turned out that Paloma didn’t have much to say about herself. She gave you the tiniest bit of information, where she was working, that she’d dated someone a couple of months back and that it didn’t work out, and how she was planning a vacation to Cancun. But that’s it.

It felt strange to divulge such personal things to someone who gave you so little in return. And you should have known that’s what was going to happen. She wanted the dirty details about you and Harry. She wasn’t there to be a friend. Not really. She wasn’t rude but you saw that her motivation was to sate her curiosity.

Maybe you were better off just confiding in your mother. Though, she never asked you things about how sex was with Harry. She always only wanted you to be happy and doing your best.

And it would have been fun to discuss in detail how good you were getting it with Harry. And if Fae weren’t his daughter you’d do that with her. Tell her all about how insane his body is, how strong he is, how big his cock is, and how he eats you out almost every day. You’d totally brag about him with her if things were different. But instead, you were stuck with Paloma who you didn’t want to give too many details to. And besides, you and Harry were still healing. To talk about how he was in bed didn’t seem right. Especially when you didn’t know who she was going to tell.

You stopped at the grocery store on your way home to get some things you needed and you picked up one of those cheap grocery store flower bouquets. Harry had stopped having them sent when shit hit the fan and he moved in. You didn’t know if it was because they were so expensive or just because he hadn’t thought about it what with everything going on, but you figured a small bouquet might feel nice to have in the apartment.

But when you pulled into your building’s parking lot you saw, what looked like Mrs. Styles’ car parked at the front. Of course, perhaps it was someone else’s, you were a bit paranoid lately. You always had your eyes roaming around just in case you accidentally ran into her or Fae.

With one arm occupied by your grocery bag and your other hand holding the small bouquet, you slowly walked up the steps toward your door and thought, maybe it wasn’t Mrs. Styles. Perhaps it was actually just someone with a car like hers. Plus how silly for her to confront you. What good would that do anyone?

“Y/n. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You heard her voice before you saw her and then felt her pull your bag from your arm, “Let me help you. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

#ask #bfd!harry #teaser #best friend’s dad Harry

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xxtc-96xx · 6 months

Note

how many ideas do you have to draw, design, animate or play around with that you dont have the time or energy for? (yeah,,, i know that feeling) xD

So many….

I’ve been very tired lately from dog sitting so I’ve gotten plenty of ideas but I’m just too tired to sit down an draw them XD

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netherfeildren · 1 year

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FEAR OF GOD : Chapter VI : The indignity of suffering

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: Go into that dark wood, but do not lose yourself.

Content Warnings: canon typical violence; gore; angst

A/N: I just wanted to say that you all have been so fucking kind and lovely and supportive to me. I’ve read and tried to reply to every single one of your messages and cherish them so so much. I can’t even tell you what it means to me to receive this type of response to something I’ve written, my very first thing I’ve ever shared publicly, at that. I seriously thought this thing’d have two hits, me and my burner account and that’s it. I appreciate each and every single one of you to the end of the earth, and hope I can continue to write things that you all relate to and are moved by and find solace in. Thank you so so so much. I love you and I wish you all nothing but the most amazing things in the whole world.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 3.5K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER VI: The indignity of suffering

Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story. -Richard Siken, War of the Foxes

You sit now in the dark quiet of your living room, facing straight forward, unseeing, feet planted firmly on the floor, trying to ground yourself and count the sounds of your breath. Feel the inhale pass all the way into your body, deep down to your toes, back up again through your abdomen, whistle through your lungs, up your throat and out, back into the world. A repetitive exercise to try and soothe your racing heart.

You need to leave.

Birdie, I love you. Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie.

Your nails are splintered bloody, the tips of your fingers rubbed raw from the fight in the woods. It hurts, and you pick at the broken skin trying to distract from the other pain writhing within you. Something, something else has to exist in the world that can hurt more than this, than him. Please, please, let there be something else worse than this. You pick harder at the skin. You still possess enough clarity of mind to be cognizant of the fact that your thoughts are slightly unhinged. Something to hurt more? Why? For what? What good would that do you? For the girl who’s always tried to have the answers to every question that came her way, you find that there are no discernible solutions to this. No reason, no way to conceptualize it. There was no easy way to color within the lines in this moment, tuck it all away neatly into a drawer. Your edges are frayed, savaged, bloody and torn.

He had done this to you – true. But in many ways you had also done this to yourself. You could only go on accepting the way others treated you for so long before it got to be too much. And you knew, once again, that it was all about the choices you made. What were you willing to put up with? What were you willing to let go of? What was necessary for your survival? What would you die without?

I will die without him, you think.

Asking for things for yourself had always been excruciating. You’d gotten better at pushing that piece of yourself away – that deficit – with age. You saw it for what it was now, something to hurt you, rather than, naively considered, to protect you. And it was time now, to ask for this, to demand he love you out in the open. He could not say the words to you, fuck them into you with his body and his touch, press them into your skin – and then take them back? No. His terror at the possibility of losing you, of you getting hurt sent him over the edge, robbed him of rational thought, you could objectively understand this, but the agony of having him and not having him – of being able to only brush your fingertips along the phantom idea of him, never being able to hold on tight — dig your nails into his skin and draw blood; well that provided grounds for cowardice. Surely, it excused it, even. Because, you think: this is unendurable, unendurable.

The two of you were made up of so much fear in equal measures. Him, afraid of his own feelings, of showing his softness, of putting that softness in someone else’s hands. And you, you, sometimes you terrified yourself. The lengths you could go to swallow your hurts, to repress the things that broke your heart – you couldn’t live like this anymore. It was too painful, abnormal – emaciating yourself in the name of being strong and stoic.

So perhaps Joel was right, in this instance. You did. You needed to leave. As a means of self preservation, you needed to do as he’d told you. You needed to get out, away from him. From yourself. From all these people who knew you, and how much you wanted and needed and loved him and fucking prostrated yourself at the effigy of him you’d created in your mind. You wanted to scream and thrash and gnaw your teeth through the very marrow of who and what you were, and you wanted to say that you hated him and yourself and everything, everything, everything. Why did you have to be this way? Why did he have to be this way? You felt angry and resentful with the world, with life itself. But you didn’t, you couldn’t, say or do any of those things.

None of them were true.

What was true was that it was not your responsibility to step between him and his daughter. To defend or protect him from her. That was not your place. Not right now, at least. The struggle between them was their own, could only be mended by them two.

What was true was that you loved him. And he loved you. You knew this now, without doubt. What was true was that he hurt you. That he was terribly afraid. That he could not allow himself the vulnerability of being hurt again himself.

Beth. Beth. Beth. Where are you, sister? I need you.

You needed to go back out. Despite what had happened tonight, and your very real fear that there could be more of those men out there, that woman and her baby were out there somewhere. You needed to find them; there was something inside of you urging you out there to them – the look in her eyes, the sound of the child’s cries – and there wasn’t anything that could stop you from going. The idea of leaving the safety of Jackson’s walls without Joel, without his reassuring protection and competence, caused a fear to surge up inside you that was almost debilitating. But you had to do this. You had to find them, help them in any way you could. The desperation in the woman’s eyes – it was like a mirror of your own terror the night Beth had died. You saw yourself in her gaze in that moment, the terrified reflection of your past self.

You’d gone straight to Maria from Joel’s. The look on your face, enough to tell her this was something you needed to do now. She’d gone straight to Noah first, then another girl in town, called Vero, both were competent trackers and hunters, and Noah was your friend. You knew he’d help you. They’d agreed to go. You’d head out tomorrow at first light, search the greater part of the day, go as far out as you could and still be able to make it back before dark. Easy and quick.

He wanted you gone. He wanted you to leave. Then you would. It wasn’t in your nature to be petty or lash out, but it was in your nature to hide, to swallow a hurt, to run. This was self preservation at its core. You needed to get away from the humiliation. The burning rejection of knowing that you loved him, and that even though he’d said the words, he still saw you as something apart from himself and the things he held close. Not family.

There was a more level headed part of you that objectively knew he’d be furious to know you’d gone back out without him. That he’d lose his mind when he found out. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. The petty and hurt part, the part he’d just trampled all over, would win tonight, wanted to lash out. If Maria was letting you go you knew your plan wasn’t suicidal – at least not in terms of what you might run into out there. You both knew the three of you could take care of yourselves. Joel, though, he might just kill you himself when you returned.

But you needed time to conceptualize your feelings. Fold things away as neatly as possible – the things he’d said to you – you needed to shut this love away in a drawer, put it to rest as best as you could. Dissociate from it if necessary, from him.

You wished desperately for Connie in this moment. For his clear logic and calming baritone. Use your head, honey. The answer’s right there in front of you. For him to pet your hair and tell you it’d all be okay. But he wasn’t here. And neither was Beth or Ellie or Maria. No one you felt could understand, not truly. Really, you knew you wanted to talk to Joel. Knew he understood this overwhelming feeling of having absolutely nothing left to give. That he knew how someone who knows what it’s like to go without, is always willing to give more. Even if they don’t have anything left for themselves. That this feeling you were experiencing now was exactly what held him back from you.

He understood the sentiment intimately. As hard as he’d tried to push you away, keep you at arms length, shield the softness within himself from your prying eyes and grasping fingers, you’d seen it. You’d even felt it brush up against you. And you knew, you knew, he had so, so much left to give. Even if he couldn’t see it himself. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to share it with you. He’d done it for Ellie. For that little girl all that time ago who’d needed him, and despite his reluctance, fear, trauma, his painful, painful past – he’d given himself to her entirely.

It wasn’t in you to judge him for holding himself back from you. As much as it ripped you to shreds, you understood him with a profoundness and an empathy you surprised yourself with. Of course he was fucking scared. Of course he was terrified of the risk of pain. Of the risk of loss.

The mistake was to assume that any person you loved would be, at all times, without fault. Never cruel. Never selfish. Would never hurt you. In love or friendship or family, you now considered, with experience, the real test of longevity to be acceptance of that occasional mistake – whether it be cruelty or selfishness or hurt – it didn’t really matter. The people you loved would hurt you sometimes. They’d say the wrong thing. Do the wrong thing. Make the wrong choice. To err was human. No one was ever perfect one hundred percent of the time, and to allow for that margin of error, was to be merciful in your love. Not only for them, for the person you loved, but for yourself, as well. The capacity – the space to make mistakes and forgive yourself for it, own it and move on – that was true mercy. That was the true promise of longevity. Especially in a world like this, one so full of cruelty and danger and casual hurts. Risk, always risk just around the corner. And Joel, he was not a man who took risks lightly. He was an animal cornered – and a threatened creature does not think of consequences. It considers only survival.

It was in the way you proceeded after your mistakes, the choices, the actions you took to make reparations, that the true test lay.

All of this understanding, however, didn’t mean his rejection was painless. All the self awareness in the world still wasn’t enough to soothe the sting of rejection. And it stung like a bitch.

You feel yourself start to tilt sideways onto your sofa, glassy eyes taking in the warm corners of your home. The piles of books, your tacky orange plaid throw over the armchair by the fire, the drawings Ellie’d given you to put up. A life strung together with sheer determination – a safe space. It didn’t feel as safe, as warm, in this moment, without him. Autonomy over your body lost to grief, your shoulder hits the green cushion. You turn your face into the darkness and let the hot press of tears break free. Muffled and quiet, you let all that hurt you wished you could erase, out. The pain in your throat is strangling, trying to keep yourself contained. There is a savagely broken place within you that forces you, even in this moment, to remain subdued, and you wish you could let it all out in a messy explosion of tears and howling. That your mind would allow your physical reaction to reflect the seething pain you’re feeling inside, to let go of restraint for even just a moment.

When you’ve lost everything, how do you muster the bravery to hold onto something new?

You had it in you to run – to sneak away in the dark. This you knew. To be cowardly – even if only in his eyes. To be selfish. Even if you knew that running away, even after he’d told you to go, was the worst possible thing you could do to him. Be selfish, Birdie. Be selfish for me, just a little bit, he’d said once. Well, you would be. You needed distance and space to lick the bleeding wound your heart had become, and you had something you felt you direly needed to do. That woman was waiting for you out there – you felt it in your bones, the baby’s cry resounding in your memory over and over again.

Perhaps your anger was useless. After all, an animal cornered could only react on instinct, and Joel had cornered himself with his confession.

But you were so, so tired. You couldn’t fight anymore.

It’s the end of the goddamned world, Joel. Just love me like I know you do.

You pull the cinch of the saddle, checking it’s secure. You’d slept like shit, the events of the night before replaying in your mind on a loop. His words clanging against your skull over and over again. The dark woods – Beth’s dying screams. The clicking. The look on Ellie’s face – so concerned, scared for you. Scared of what would become of you without him. Dawn hasn’t broken over the horizon yet, but you’re ready to get out of here.

Sometimes you feel like he isn’t actually real. A figment you’ve created in your imagination. And really, if you’re being wholly honest with yourself, isn't that the most honest truth between the two of you? Isn't everything you think you need from him merely something born from your own yearning? Haven’t you been half-existing without him this whole time? One foot in, one foot out. If you’d never had the whole thing, had you ever really even had it at all?

Perhaps that isn’t fair, to either of you. You can’t tell what’s right or wrong anymore, real or imaginary. Your mind, blanketed by exhaustion, coherence gone out the door like an old lover.

Have I been walking in circles again?

“You ready to go?” You’re snapped from your reverie at the sound of Noah’s voice. Nausea churns in your gut on a low, threatening simmer. Everything held in a tight knot at the base of your throat. Vero’s saddled and ready to go – waiting for the two of you to mount, as well.

Maria’s old adage, her overused one at that, sounds in your mind: The only people who can betray us are the ones we trust. How right she always is. After all, hurting someone is an act of reluctant intimacy. Who knows your soft spots, where to strike hardest, better than someone who loves you?

Leaving was probably a mistake. In the cool clarity of the damp morning, you’re worried you’re walking into something the three of you are ill prepared for, incapable of handling. But you know that baby is out there – you know the desperation in the woman’s eyes wasn’t feigned, couldn’t be. You had to find them. And Joel’d done most of the heavy lifting, killing, last night – that man’s skull crushed beneath the violent weight of his fist, the stray clickers done away with. All you had to do now was find that woman and her child, and hope nothing worse waited for you out there.

So much had happened in the span of such a few, seemingly short hours.

You mount your horse, and your belly sways with nausea you have to grit your teeth against. Concern nips at your heels, but you can’t think about that now. Not after last night, not in light of what you’re about to set out to do. Perhaps not ever. Perhaps you can ignore your anxieties and suspicions indefinitely. Perhaps then, they can’t hurt you, won’t be made real. Can’t remind you of how alone you’ll be after this is done.

You have much to do: you must make yourself into stone, kill your memories, kill your desires, find your future. Change the very nature of your soul, if you must, learn to live without him.

Noah settles on his mount, and you click your tongue, the three of you start to move forward. You’re afraid. A huge yawning pit of trepidation, of terror opening in your gut. This is how Joel must feel all the time. But there’s also the voice in your head, telling you this is something you need to do. No matter what. You feel so keenly, in your very marrow, that they’re waiting for you. There was no discerning evidence as to why you knew you needed to do this, why you felt you’d recognized her, but you did.

It seemed empirically impossible that the two of you’d have met each other at that precise moment last night. In the tumult of chaos that had crashed around the two of you in that dark wood, that the night had cleared for one precise second to allow you to look at her face, to see all she needed to voice but could not say; that she was terrified, that she needed help. There had to be a reason for that.

You’d been searching for reasons in meaningless things for far too long now. You knew this. You should apply your rational mind to questioning this hair-brained plan, tell yourself that leaving without Joel, despite the things he’d said last night, was suicide. You could very well die, either out there, at the hands of some monster, or in here, after he murdered you for going out there without him. Part of you didn’t really care anymore. A blanket of numbness clouding your judgment.

You’d always been a girl that had done as she was told, inhabited the place in life assigned to you. Perhaps now was as good a time as any to do something you weren’t supposed to.

You ride for several hours before you’re attacked. The silent woods surround the three of you, moving slowly in the general direction of the clearing from last night, and then further on towards the way which she’d fled. It’s peaceful, the steady cadence of the horses hooves, the wind disturbing the stillness of the trees like a whispered song of the leaves; you think they might be telling you to turn around, to go back to him. And then, as if you’d been struck by lightning, coming to after, only to discover catastrophe of the highest order. You tell yourself you won’t regret your choice to come out here, you won’t, no matter what happens, you all can fight, this was something you had to do. There’s chaos circling you, Vero and Noah’s shouts, a gun sounding, and then you turn to see Vero’s body falling to the ground. There’s a bullet wound straight through her skull, dead center, brain matter splattering behind her in a sick mockery of strewn life. You’re shocked into utter stillness, all thought, all understanding wiped from your brain as neatly as the bullet through hers. This is your doing.

And then fire, fire, fire, suddenly – shockingly. Pulverizing your ribs, your flesh, your very self. An inferno climbing up your chest, down your hip, and through your arm, spreading uncontrollably. You lose your seat on the horse, and then you too, are plummeting to the ground. The unyielding ground surging up towards your face like a cold wave. You feel as if you fall for centuries, and then your body is slamming sickeningly against the forest floor, your shoulder crunches and you want to howl; your head rebounding so hard you feel your very brain jostle inside your skull. Your vision flashes in and out, blurred and unfocused, and all you can discern are the mammoth figures of the trees around you. Looming over you like monsters in the dead of night, come to devour.

My secret, my secret, I never got to tell him.

You try to curl in on yourself, protect whatever remains of a body you’re not sure you possess anymore. More resounding shots of a gun, again, again, screaming and howling. Perhaps the wolves have descended. He’s going to be so angry, you think. My friends, my friends are dying because of me. Noah, where is Noah? Please, please, don’t be dead too.

You think that if you die, Joel and Ellie have to make up. They have to. He’ll need her so much.

Birdie, I love you. Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie.

You should have never left. You should have stayed with him. No matter what he said. What the hell did he know anyway? You should have fought harder. You should have stayed with him.

The dark lake of unconsciousness swallows you whole.

Chapter VII

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#Joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #FoG fic

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miraculous-pyxie · 1 year

Text

marinette headcanon time

marinette’s knees are filled with little scars and long-term bruises from how many time she falls over

she carries a very cute first aid kit in her backpack just in case her skin breaks or if she needs a quick ice pack (those lil crack and shake things that get really cold)

marinette became the go to person when somebody got hurt is phys ed when the teens were younger. she eventually got first aid certified.

marinette used to carry a bit more weight (you see her parents genetic make up) but from becoming ladybug she burns a lot of calories/fat from running around all day. to keep people/parents from getting suspicious, she starts running which keeps her even more in shape.

little marinette got into sewing because her mom always needed to repair her clothes from the rips and tears they would get from her falling over. she felt guilty about it so she said that she would do it. her mom taught her then she started teaching herself

I love the idea that Adrien and Marinette get stronger and more flexible from using the miraculous. Adrien has an excuse that this is how he needs to look for modeling (everyone believes that) but marinette has less of an excuse so she has to flub saying she started going to the gym and attempt to become less clumsy. not wanting it to be a lie, she starts going to a gym once a week for an hour (this is where she does her runs instead).

marinette meditates with her mom whenever she’s stressed and gets lightly told off when she starts fidgeting too much

along with Tikki’s cookies, marinette keeps a stash of protein shakes and protein bars in her room

marinette has ADHD so she is prone to zoning out and has accidentally zoned out in someone’s direction before then zones back in and profusely apologizes for ”staring” at them

marinette will hyperfocus on a project for hours and she has almost missed patrol several times because of it.

adding onto that, she will sometimes be working till 3 am so getting up at 7 am for school is really hard. (delayed sleep phase syndrome let’s goooo)

on top of that, coffee is her best friend. not because of the energy boost but it keeps her focused in school. (Alya doesn’t know about the ADHD at first and thinks her best friend has a severe coffee addiction)

from becoming ladybug, Marinette has actually gotten very coordinated. she was very clumsy as a kid, but now it only spikes when she feels emotionally vulnerable. (i.e. around Adrien, when she’s nervous)

Adrien is Marinette’s first big crush so for the first few weeks marinette actually was really uncomfortable. she was having an internal battle of never feeling something like a crush before and also beating herself up over the idea that this might be a celebrity crush and she’s just a crazy fan

i saw this somewhere else but marinette doesn’t like horror movies not because they scare her but because they are underwhelming to her. mari and the gang will be having a movie night and she’ll just sit their with her arms crossed and say “I’ve seen worse.” and alya nino and adrien will just looked at her absolutely baffled. (even though adrien is chat noir, he’s had less exposure to scary things growing up)

adding onto that, marinette 100% had unrestricted internet access as a kid but she does not let it show

Marinette doodles on her skin in pen and one time she was drawing on her arm in red pen in class and an akuma related explosion happened really close. The pen exploded all over her skin and it looked like she had just killed someone.

marinette wanted to join the costume department for theater but because of her crammed schedule she can’t do it. everyone is confused as to why she doesn’t bc she’s perfect for it.

marinette matches the color of her hair ties to her outfit

marinette is better at listening to people in chinese then speaking or writing it

marinette actually gets along with her grandma really well and that’s why her grandma knew exactly what bike to get her

even though Marinette’s focus is in high fashion, she loves learning about streetwear and street fashion in places like Japan and the US

she is an absolute force to be reckoned with when she’s being stubborn about something

she indulges in the confidence that being ladybug gives her from time to time so when chloe is back on her bs she claps back better than the last time

a personal retcon is she gets a hold of her boy crazy-ness after the first few weeks. (the show really did her dirty on this like stalking? stealing? they should not be promoting that behavior to kids tbh)

marinette wears her new designs to school. she also secretly has a commission style business (so she can keep on top of orders bc she is just 1 person)

all and all, she is a little frazzled gremlin and i wish we got more of that blunt ,frazzled, always-busy, gremlin side of her

that’s all i can think of for now :)

#miraculous fandom #miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb fandom #mlb headcanon #marinette dupain cheng #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #mlb marinette #she needs better well rounding traits to bring out her true character #like she’s such a dorky lil thing i need everyone to see her the way i see her #i retcon a lot from the show #she deserves better tbh #just let her be a little gremlin that’s all i ask

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love-toxin · 1 year

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I’ve just been totally devouring your page and I have to imagine Robin is the type out of the yandere fruity four, to just come home with a puppy for you, because you were talking about how cute they were.

I think Eddie would be happy. Mum and dad would be pissed. But Nancy and Steve would learn to love the cute pup, especially because you loved it. Also, it reminds them of you, so they can snuggle it on their laps if they can’t reach you

oh 🥺🥺 robbie my love....

cws: polyamoury, post-s4, mostly robin pov, insecurity, mentions of recovery (injuries, hospitalization, meds), domestic arguing, a slight twinge of yandere, angst with a happy ending, fluff, fem pronouns.

It seems like, out of all of you, you're the only one that's happy to see Robin coming up to the front door.

It's the late fall of 1986, and the surprise she'd had for you had already been ruined a little bit--you had rushed out to the door to meet her as she walked up, and the cardboard box she'd been carrying had already started barking before she could set it up--but your overjoyed squeals of excitement when she opened the flap and showed you your new puppy were to die for, they made all that hassle of haggling for the little guy and carting him halfway across Hawkins to Steve's house completely worth it.

However, she knows there's a storm coming. Nancy and Steve? Not gonna be so happy with it. And it's not like she's got her own place to keep it if they don't want it in the house--the one that Steve grew up in is your group home, his parents having long moved out of Hawkins and left you all to your own devices. Nancy especially had been very clear about Robin's idea when she had brought it up initially, the same night you had gushed over a puppy you'd seen being walked out by the grocery store, and wishing you could have one of your own.

"We're not having an animal in this house. We have too many responsibilities as it is--and I'm not taking care of it if you don't."

Nancy's warning rings in her ears and somewhat spoils the enjoyment she's got out of your gleeful smile, but even still, it's hard not to let one of her own slip out when she's watching you giggle and scratch the baby lab's ears as he rolls around on the living room floor. The shag carpeting cushions the bruises on her knees as she sits across from you, occasionally lifting her hand to pat your new puppy's soft, chocolate-furred little head as he yips excitedly and oscillates wildly between both sources of attention.

To be completely honest, things really haven't been going well with Nancy or with Steve, lately. Arguments have been cropping up left and right and they've all been trying to hide it from you, trying not to let you see them angry at each other when you've already got so much on your plate. Nancy especially, she just...she doesn't understand her, and it's been getting more and more frustrating to communicate, especially when the three of them have taken on the bulk of the job of keeping your collective lives private. It feels like those two are more obsessed with keeping you in the house than making sure you're happy, it's actually gotten to the point of being concerning. So, yeah, maybe this decision was spurred on a little bit out of spite, and maybe that's a little immature, but....is it not worth it to see you so relaxed for once?

"Robbie, what's his name?" You draw your legs up to sit criss-cross, and he dives into your lap to snuggle and roll all over your legs, clad in a pair of Steve's old gray sweatpants.

"It's...whatever you want it to be." She smiles back, sober still, but relieved at least that she has your favour for giving you such a perfect gift.

"I get to pick? Really?!"

"Of course you do! I got him for you. I...I'm glad you like him, I mean, I hope you like him, but-" Her rambling stops only when you lay a hand on her knee, the wiggly little animal finally settling down as he gnaws on your other hand like a makeshift chew toy.

"I love him, baby. He's perfect. And you're the best girlfriend in the whole world."

No, her heart doesn't stop right then. Her heart bursts, bright eyes wide and soft with tears that just barely don't make it to the surface, and Robin's shoulders slump with relief like all the heaviness in her chest has completely evaporated. She's been carrying the weight since she woke up this morning, and decided to go get that puppy she had seen someone's ad for in the paper days ago. The uncertainty of whether she should have done it still lurks in the back of her mind, because she knows those two are gonna be pissed at her, but it was for your happiness....and she's got that now. She's got to see you smile after weeks upon weeks of despair. No amount of potential arguments aren't worth that.

"Can we go show Eddie?" You whisper, gathering your pup into your arms so he nuzzles up into the crook of your elbow like he belongs there. Still in a haze, she nods and lets you help her to her feet, her heart starting to pound again when you round the corner of the hall and climb the stairs to the second floor. The master bedroom is Steve and Nancy's now, the two guest rooms are reserved for you and Robin, and Steve's old room just off the top of the stairs....you let her turn the knob as you have your hands full, and you both make sure to enter on light feet into the renovated bedroom.

The walls have been repainted, those horrible stripes gone and some dark red colour splashed on in its place. You had gone to the trouble of pinning up some of the posters from Eddie's old room in the trailer, and had decorated with a couple plants and some other knickknacks and mementos, courtesy of uncle Wayne. Plus his guitar of course, sitting on a stand by the window, just waiting for its owner to pick it up and play it again.

The downside of the otherwise quaint little room, however, is the hospital bed that's set parallel to the window, arranged in the same place that Steve's bed once was before he moved into the bigger room with Nancy. Thankfully the machines that once accompanied it have been moved out, and replaced with bottles and labeled boxes filled with medication that are neatly stacked underneath the side table next to it--many of which are near unpronouncable, yet you're totally familiar with each one and have memorized the routine with which to take them. Because you're amazing.

"Eddie? You awake, baby?" Your hands full with the fortunately settled puppy, you let Robin wander over and touch his bare arm over the blankets. He's pale, and cool to the touch, eyes shut and hair fanned out over his pillow as he sleeps, and she wonders for a panic-stricken moment if somehow he's not here anymore--but then he exhales a breath, and she immediately relaxes.

Eddie's been bound here for a while now, having come straight from the hospital to the Harrington house as soon as he was stable enough to make the trip. The aftermath of the "earthquake" and the unrest of the town has since settled down (with the help of some very persuasive people high up) but Eddie, your sweet Eddie, has suffered more than anybody else has. The four of you have taken care of him since the demobat attack, but you've gone above and beyond--Robin's watched you stay up late by his side, organize his medications, read to him, bathe him, feed him, change his clothes, everything. You kiss him awake every morning and tuck him in every night, and she knows that if he never recovered, you would do so for the rest of your life. She's just lucky he's on the mend, as evident by the way his eyes suddenly shoot open and he sits up in his bed with a shout, arms outstretched like a zombie.

"Ah-!" You both shriek right back, the puppy startled too and letting out a string of barks while Eddie laughs at his ill-timed prank. Being babied to hell and back for weeks has certainly not helped his mischievous streak, but his wincing as he lays back down is some sort of payback--but his smile doesn't wane, and he looks up at both you and her with joy clear in his eyes.

"God, Eddie, you prick." She huffs, swatting his arm in the one place he's not covered in bandages.

"Aw, did I scare you, Buckley? Wanna cuddle me for safety?" She flips him the middle finger, and he cackles again, not an ounce of malice in his voice especially when he directs it at you. "Who's this little guy? Don't tell me Stevie finally yanked that stick outta his ass and let you get a pet."

He reaches out, and you gently lay the puppy on his chest, holding your hand down on his butt to keep him from wiggling too much and hurting your love--but Eddie seems too happy to mind, scratching the little guy's ears and immediately making a friend as the pup starts licking all over his face.

"What Steve doesn't know won't hurt him." Robin answers, her confidence drained as she fiddles with the rings on her hands because she actually has no idea what she's gonna do, or what he's gonna do when he does find out.

"Won't hurt me, huh?"

All three pairs of eyes turn towards the door when that voice rings clear, Robin's heart dropping straight into her shoes when she sees Steve leaning on the doorframe. His arms crossed over his chest, and his brow furrowed, she knows right away that she's in deep, deep shit. He cocks his head and straightens up, moving to stand by the open door--and she follows without looking back at you, flinching at the door being pulled shut behind her once she's in the hall, and crumbling even worse when Nancy's standing there waiting for her. She's so small, so delicate-looking, yet she's so terrifying when she has that stormy look in her clear eyes.

"What the hell are you doing? Was I not clear enough? Did I need to write it on your forehead?" Her arms are crossed, brow set, and tone as biting as she can make it.

"Nance-"

"No! You are putting us in danger, Robin!" She interrupts, drawing closer with a finger prodding her in the chest--and yet she lowers her voice as she continues, knowing well and good that you and Eddie will hear her if she's too loud. As per usual, she feels the need to keep you two out of the loop--to keep that perfect facade up. "The last thing we need right now is to draw attention to ourselves--and you can't just go out and do whatever the hell you want!"

"It's just a dog, Nancy! Christ, what the hell is your problem?" It just rips out of her from nowhere, the righteous anger--Robin's never a screamer or a yeller, she's a mumbler and a fast talker when she gets annoyed or scared. But it's been so long since all those incidents, and right now, she couldn't be more sick of Nancy acting like she's everybody's mom.

"My problem? You're my problem! You keep acting like everything's fucking fine, but we're the ones suffering when you screw everything up!"

"I was trying to make her happy!" Robin finally raises her own voice, shoving Steve's hand off her shoulder and taking a step out from between them. It's sickening. It hurts. And no matter how much it pains the two of them, she can't keep quiet. "Not like you two would know anything about that!"

"You're doing it for yourself, Robin! That's all you ever think about!" Nancy's lost her composure by now too, delicate fists clenched in fury as she spits each word like it's pure poison--but even she isn't prepared for what comes out of Robin's mouth next.

"Shut the fuck up for once, you goddamn priss!"

The timing of it all blurs together after that, when a heavy silence hits the air and nobody says a word. Nancy's eyes are wide, and so are Steve's, and that's the last nail in the coffin. That's it, she thinks. I ruined my last chance with the best thing I've ever had. She turns and makes short work of the stairs, a sob choking up in her throat as she pushes her way out the door and hurries towards the driveway. Parked just beside Steve's beloved car and Eddie's largely unused van is her bike--her shitty little bike, because she's too damn poor to afford a damn car or even a stupid license--and she climbs on, not a clue where she's gonna end up but hoping she just doesn't get hit on the way there, because she never wants you to suffer waiting in a hospital room ever again. Because she's evidently not worth fretting about.

But in the midst of her kicking up gravel and tearing away from the driveway in tears, she spots you skid right in front of her handlebars with your hands outstretched, and nearly hits you when she slams her heel into the gravel to force her tires to a sudden halt.

"Robbie!" You whine her name again--she didn't hear you the first time--grabbing hold of her handles like you want to make sure she doesn't think about pedaling off again. She brings the palm of her hand to her eyes to wipe at the tears, hoping fruitlessly that you won't notice she's crying--but you don't even flinch, you just edge around the side of her bike to let your hand rest on her opposite hip, and pull her closer into your embrace so you can hug her into your chest. "Don't go, baby. I love you, okay? We can work this out, but you gotta talk to me."

"I can't," She sniffles, finally giving up the fight against that lump in her throat and burying her face into your sweater as a fresh wave of tears spill down her face. "I'm already stressing you out. I'm stressing everyone out. I just...I'm just a burden."

"A burden?" You ask incredulously, tilting your head down and guiding hers up with your hands pressed to her cheeks, so she'll look you in the eyes. "The girl that saved my life? You think she's a burden?"

"But...But now you have to deal with me. I'm the reason you're suffering." She hiccups, thinking that she needs to let you go but feeling too weak to want to take her hands off of you.

"Bullshit." You squeeze her cheeks, your lips pressed between her brows in a warm, sweet kiss and a smack as you pull off. "You make me glad I survived. You're my hero, Robbie."

She wants to be. But she can't stop sniveling, trembling as she clings to you, and praying that you don't just disappear. You're such a sweet person, a kind person, and you deserve the world....but even the smallest things she tries to do for you just keep blowing up in her face. If it wasn't you, and if it wasn't the other three loves of her life, it would never be worth it. But the sting of rejection won't ease up even in the comfort of your arms, now that's she gone and royally fucked it up with--

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Robin lifts her head on instinct and you turn yours to look over your shoulder, her grip around you loosening when she spots Nancy running across the lawn at her with Steve close on her heels. Without taking her eyes off her, she pulls her leg off her bike and lets it fall and hit the ground--and she breaks away from your embrace, even though she wants to hide in it now more than ever.

"I...listen, Nance, I-I'm sorry I-" Her heart pounds so hard in her chest it feels like it's gonna burst out and splatter on the ground as the little brunette marches towards her. But it stops completely when she grabs Robin's arm, and yanks her down into a kiss that completely steals her breath away. A shocked squeak disappears into Nancy's mouth, and when she breaks it off with a huff and a dab at her lipstick with her fingers, Robin's spine straightens immediately and she glances around the yard like someone's going to suddenly emerge with a camera.

"Nance! W-We're outside!" Nancy shakes her head, breathing hard with a red flush tipping her ears.

"You were right, okay? You were right. I'm a priss. And I...I was overreacting, so please don't go." She completely brushes off the fact that she just did something so bold, her dainty nails clutching at the sleeves of Robin's jacket as if it'll certainly stop her.

"I...l-listen, I was too. I'm sorry, and...I won't be so impulsive next time, I promise." She nods, trying to keep that bubbly feeling inside her, but it's impossible not to smile. Nancy's not one to get so frazzled, and...it's cute. It's so cute, god, it's cute!

"I'm sorry, too. I was just scared. Scared that...that we're gonna go through it all again. I should've known that we're stronger now." She rubs at her arms, partially from the cold that you've all momentarily forgotten about, and while Steve would usually be the gentleman and warm her up it's her turn to do it. Robin pulls off her coat and throws it around Nancy's shoulders, pulling it tight so it won't fall and simultaneously drawing a pair of smiles from you and Steve on the sidelines.

"We are. We're a lot stronger. And, uh....now we've got a guard dog, too." Nancy rolls her eyes but not out of frustration like she's gotten used to, and reaches up to wipe one last, rogue tear off Robin's cheek with a delicate swipe of her thumb. A soft mumble of "you dork" earns her a smile, but just as you're all about to breath a collective sigh of relief as the tension passes, your heads all swivel towards the sound of a voice behind you.

"Hey!" Looking up, your eyes are drawn towards the second-story window that's furthest to the left--and there's Eddie's grinning face and his frizzy mop of hair, hanging halfway out of it. "Get off my lawn, you damn kids!"

"Eddie! Get back inside, you idiot! You're gonna catch a damn cold-" Steve's the first to yell back, stomping off into the house to force him back into bed while Eddie takes the chance to disappear. Upon getting through the front door, however, you can hear the sounds of the puppy barking and yipping happily as he bounces around your boyfriend's ankles. It sounds a lot like home, like the home you dreamed about having when you were old enough to have one. It's not long before you're leaving Robin's bike in the driveway and hurrying after him, the chill nipping at each of your faces as you run in and close the door firmly behind you to keep the rest of the world out.

Your new, excitable little friend runs about all three of you as a welcome before scrabbling up the stairs and bolting to follow Steve, and Nancy sighs out a laugh as she watches his tail wag so hard it wiggles his whole body before he disappears into the bedroom.

"Fine, you got me. He's adorable." Despite being in the warmth of the house again, she doesn't shed the jacket wrapped around her--if anything it gets tighter, her head dipping down to smell the perfume on it and the fruity melon scent of Robin's shampoo. "What are you gonna name him?"

"Mh....I'm thinking something like Dio. Or Ozzy. I'm gonna get Eddie to help me!" You beam, and if it wasn't for the glorious heating of Steve's beautiful house, Robin would be sure your smile would warm her right through the coldest winter. "We've gotta get some stuff first, though! Dog bowls, kibble, a leash--" You rattle off a few more things, but Robin's distracted by how cute you look getting all excited--and Nancy's distracted for a different reason, one that furrows her brow for a second before she relaxes.

"I'll take us then, okay? We'll make it a date. We'll even grab dinner at that place you like downtown." She offers, zipping up her loaned jacket and reaching for Steve's keys that always hang by the front door.

"Can we bring it home for Eddie, too? He told me it's getting easier for him to eat, now!"

"Yeah! Let's get snacks, and rent a movie too. There's this new romance I wanna watch--double VHS!" Robin chimes in, the two of you sharing a joyous look before turning back to face Nancy--and it soothes her heart to see the little queen bee getting flustered as the two of you beg her, even though it really isn't needed because at this point, it's clear that she almost always gives in. Depending on the circumstances, obviously.

"Yes, yes, and yes--I think we all need it today. Steve!" She calls up the staircase, waiting for his call back that comes right as expected. "We're going out! We'll be back with food!"

"Kay! Take Eddie's van!" She affirms him with a confident voice, but with a jingle of his keyring in front of your faces, you share a round of giggles as you head out the door and hurry to pile into his precious BMW before he notices.

It's not perfect, your relationship--Robin pulls down the mirror in the passenger's seat to wipe her tear-smudged makeup off--but it's more than she could ever ask for. She feels loved, and safe, and even though those words still sting, Nancy's hand on her knee and her gentle reminder to put on your seatbelts soothes the feeling more and more. And it's so hard to be unhappy when she's looking at you in the rearview mirror, giddy and smiling and reaching for her hand to hold it like you don't want to waste any second you have to touch her. That's so worth it--to know she would be missed if you ever had to go without her.

#yandere fruity four #yandere fruity four x reader #fruity four #fruity four x reader #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #anons

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sweetnsour1 · 1 year

Text

12:18

Fluff, Bakugou x g/n reader

Happy Halloween🖤

“Y/n…I don’t think he’s gonna’ pop out of the fridge.” You blinked away the heavy glare from your face, wondering how long you had been making the beer sweat as you reached for a cold one.

“Hmm…no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?” Her words were half sung, carrying the unmistakable melody of you’re-a-fucking-liar.

You stayed silent, feeling relieved when Mina dropped it. She was more interested in spinning around the kitchen in search of a bottle opener. You leaned back, careful to not dent the papier-mâché gauntlets you were sporting. The counter would’ve dug into the small of your back if the thick belt of your costume were placed any lower. You looked down the orange and black covering your body.

“Will you stop makin’ faces? Although….it does kinda complete the look.” You took a sip of your beer in reply, laughing when she finally realized they were twist off caps.

“This was such a dumb idea.”

“Hey! It was my super cute idea. Everyone else is having fun wearing each other’s OG hero costumes.” You felt a pull on your mask, turning to glare at the pink finger that had flicked the explosive accessories attached to them. “You’re just mad you had to dress as him.” She booped your nose, preemptively transitioning your glare to a laugh.

“Ugh, sorry. This costume just turns me into such an asshole.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s true for Bakugou too.”

“Nah, he’s still an asshole eight costumes later.”

“You keepin’ track, huh?”

“Oh, shut up. It came up when I had to search for pics of this stupid thing.”

“I see. So how many hours did you spend staring at pictures of the man you allegedly hate?”

“Oh my god. You’re impossible.” You waited for your laughter to stop before taking another long drink. “I don’t hate Bakugou. I just said he’s an asshole.”

“I think you like him.” Mina danced out of the way, dodging most of the beer you accidentally sprayed her way.

“The fuck? That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Man, you really do sound just like him.” She was faster this time as she leapt out of your gauntlets reach.

“You are such a brat…raccoon eyes.” You stuck out your tongue, but followed her out of the kitchen.

She didn’t understand. Mina was lucky, she’d gotten Red Riot in the blind draw. She had just dug through Kirishima’s closet and was now wearing most of his original costume. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be caught dead asking Dynamight for a fucking favor. Although, you had regretted the time you’d spent looking at stupid fan pages after work, trying to find any content showing his high school hero work. The quantity hadn’t really been an issue, but the quality was…unexpected?

You hadn’t meant to land on so many sites thirsting after the man that pissed you off every day. You hadn’t even known until a couple weeks ago, how many people would kill to be in the Bakugou proximity you were forced into daily. They would love to be shouldered away from the coffee pot as he stomped through the break room, lecturing you about being a sleep deprived idiot. They’d find a deeper reason for why he was such a condescending prick when you forgot to put something in your report…or why he even felt the need to check your reports in the fucking first place. He wasn’t even your superior…much less your boss. They would have spent the last week wondering what it would be like to kiss him every time his lips parted into that annoying shitty smirk of his. But you…you’d never think those things.

You drained your beer, almost knocking yourself in the face with your costume when you swiped the back of your hand across your lips. You wouldn’t let yourself think those things. That’d be too…you grabbed another drink from the bucket of ice on the table. Mina was so wrong, and you knew exactly how to prove it.

“Hey, so that American guy we borrowed got Deku in the draw right?” You scanned the room, quickly spotting the bright green ears.

“Yea, but he-“ She smiled when she caught onto your line of sight. “Why? You think he looks good in it?” You rolled your eyes, passing her your drink.

“I don’t know if anyone looks good in a bright green rabbit onesie, but I’ll go check.”

You tried not to get distracted while you crossed the room, but Mina’s party idea had been really fucking cute. It was fun seeing everyone dressed as everyone. You only nodded to anyone trying to catch your attention. You were on a mission. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking of the report you’d submitted today. The one Bakugou hadn’t read because he had left early. It was stupid. You were angry every time he showed up in your doorway with a report he hadn’t been given. And yet, you were even angrier today when he hadn’t. Maybe those fans online would know…have a headcanon. You frowned, stomping the rest of the way to the Deku two heads taller than you were.

The American hero looked like he might’ve gotten carried away with the thickness of the boots or something. You didn’t remember him being so fucking tall. You noticed his mask was down as the beer fell back to his side. Perfect…just go for it. It was a party, right? You tapped the green back of the costume, feeling a twinge of jealousy at how much more soft and comfortable it seemed compared to yours. When he turned, you grabbed the front, tugging him down to meet your lips. Take that, Mina. Someone who liked Bakugou wouldn’t have done that. You squirmed when a heavy hand on the back of your head kept you from pulling away. You finally broke free from him.

“The fuck are you-“ Red eyes silenced you. Your mouth was left open and useless as he skirted his gaze down and up your body.

“Tryna get a job as my sidekick?” Your mouth snapped shut. You knew you probably did look just like him as you glared and fucking spun on your heel, ready to stomp away. He was just such-

You couldn’t move further. He had a hold of your arm above the gauntlet. You waited to be yanked backwards for an explanation, but he shifted himself around instead, releasing your arm when he stood in front of you.

“Calm down, Dynamight.”

“It’s actually Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.” You tried to keep snarling, but it was too hard not to laugh halfway through the name. There’s no way you’d have been able to keep glaring anyway…not when he was smiling at you like that.

“Sorry, a nerd should know better.” He swatted at his green ears, making you…giggle? You caught pink and red movement across the room. This really wasn’t the show you’d expected to give Mina. He grabbed at your cheeks, pulling your gaze back to meet his. “Ya look good.” You swatted his hands away as soon as your brain stopped being so sluggish.

“I always look good.”

“Yea…you do.” You were almost too distracted by the darkening of his eyes to notice his arm snake around your waist. You stumbled into his chest when he pulled you, instinctively moving your hands up to brace the impact. “So what am I gonna have to do to get another kiss?” You were halfway ready to explain your mistake when you felt it. The not so steady beating beneath your fingertips. He was-

You looked back into red, confirming your suspicion. For once, he wasn’t making things difficult. He made it easy. Easy to see the way his eyes darted down to your mouth before staying firmly focused on your gaze. Easy to feel the way he tightened his grip. Easy to hear the way his voice softened around your name when you didn’t answer. He was nervous. You smiled, but didn’t move any closer. Fuck it.

“Ya just gotta ask, ya fuckin’ nerd.”

a/n obviously Katsuki lost a bet with the bakusquad that got him stuffed into a rabbit

This story was inspired by an ask sent in by the lovely @cheezitwh0re

Masterlist

#Bakugou #Bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #Bakugou fluff #Bakugou imagine #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha bakugou #bnha imagine #katsuki bakugou

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teabookgremlin · 9 months

Text

i have been having so many thoughts recently about van and her relationship to her appearance. are these thoughts coherent? not particularly. am i going to try to make them somewhat coherent to share with you all now? yes. will i make any sense or say anything that hasn’t already been said? that remains to be determined

i first really started thinking about this when i started my fic feel like me again but honestly it had been floating around in my mind since we got our first look at adult van and the debate over if she was butch enough began (she is btw that is not up for discussion here and not the point of this post). anyway lets get into some of my thoughts.

first i wanna talk about her hair. i know recently people have been pointing out how before the wolf attack we most commonly see van with her hair tied back (with the exception of just a few occasions) and how after the wolf attack it is always down (except for during doomcoming but then her scars are covered by a mask). it’s very clear that her hair becomes a shield for her, using it as a way to hide her scars. even as an adult it’s never up and we see it hanging in her face a lot. especially back in society it makes sense to me that van would want to hide her scars somewhat, i mean her whole thing is trying to live in a past where none of the bad shit happened. as for before the attack, her hair being pulled up often, first of all same, i do this and for me its bc i’m sick of my hair and just haven’t gotten around to cutting it yet. it could be similar for van or she just prefers it out of her face. i feel like it’s unlikely that she wouldn’t have cut it if she wanted to as she already presents pretty butch and presumably is not overly bothered by people clocking her (kind of drawing this from both her appearance and that she is so much less concerned with being caught by the others than tai is) but there is still the possibility that she just doesn’t want another thing about her to scream dyke as she is living in an american suburb in the 90s.

onto her scars specifically. i love how she stops covering them after tai tells her that she’s beautiful. i’d imagine that van is not someone who is used to compliments on her appearance (or at least not ones that are affirming to her). i also know that a lot of us have headcanons that her mom is shitty to her about her appearance (or at least i do and i’ve seen it in a few fics) so hating how she looks would have become internalized and the scars would just make it worse. and there’s how she storms out at the suggestion of a party, hiding off in the woods until tai comes, bringing a solution and way to support her. and she clings to tai as they first walk out at doomcoming, holding her arm, kind of tucking herself against/behind her until the kiss. in this moment van is shown that she is still desirable despite the scars and this is just further affirmed when tai asks to see her without the mask and calls her beautiful. and going forward she doesn’t directly hide them anymore, even as an adult when in society, where facial scarring would get her more attention than among a group of teenagers who all know exactly what happened and are too busy trying to survive to care about appearance.

this is all i’ve got for now but i certainly think that there is so much to talk about concerning van and her appearance both because of her scarring and because a complicated relationship with presentation is not uncommon among lesbians. idk i have lots of thoughts but putting them into words is hard so feel free to add on your own ideas and happy van vednesday

#is this also me projecting slightly bc i have been trying to figure out how i wanna present? yes #but i prefer talking about van than myself so <3

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daydream-cement · 1 year

Note

i was reading a fic and got obsessed with the “i’ve missed you” prompt

maybe larissa and reader had some sort of fuckbuddy agreement in the past, maybe during college, and then they reunite somewhere and end up back where they’ve been before expressing how much they’ve missed each other’s touches, kisses, the sight of each other, the looks they exchange, the noises both of them make, and mouths, both of them forgetting how good it actually felt and the familiarity about it. knowing exactly how to pleasure the other person.

then realizing that all the lovers they’ve had in between had only been attempts trying to fill the void each of them left in each other’s hearts when they had to part ways, essentially smut and ending with fluff <3

(told myself this would be a short request but then i got a little too into it)

I’ve Missed You

Larissa Weems x reader

Authors Note: As always, you guys always send me the best prompt ideas. This one was such fun to write. I wrote this to Light My Love by Greta Van Fleet so if you listen while reading that can add to the moment.

You didn’t know why you texted her. Actually you did know why. You missed her. Everything about her, you missed.

Now you were waiting in the back booth of a bar, waiting for her to arrive. She was punctual, as always. Everything about her was still perfect. Her hair, her skin, that lipstick. You eyes drifted down her body and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. You almost wondered if she had gotten even better with age. Larissa Weems truly was the perfect woman.

It all started during college. One study session went awry, Larissa and you ended up learning more about each others anatomy than what was in the textbook. All four years of university, Larissa and you spent more than your fair share of time between the sheets. With that came long nights of talking and many occasions where you actually did study together. Your relationship was never anything more than friends with benefits, however. Over the years you lost touch, but you never forget all of the memories you shared together.

Larissa slid into the booth across from you and you were brought back into reality. Your mouth was almost dry as you stared at her. She spoke first, allowing you to gather yourself, “Nice to see you again. I’ve miss you.”

———

You were glad you picked a bar that’s hours extended into the early hours of the next morning. You and Larissa had been talking for hours about everything that has happened in your lives until this moment. You both laughed and cried about the past, divulging the secrets from the years you have spent apart.

“I really did mean what I said, y/n. I missed you.” Larissa stared down into her drink as she spoke, raising her eyes to meet yours as she finished her thought.

You didn’t know if it was the drinks or vulnerability the evening brought, but you started in on your history together, “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed all the nights we had together. I missed all of you.”

She noticed the way your eyes drifted down her body with your last thought. Larissa bit her lip and leaned over the table a bit more, “I missed your hands… and your mouth.”

You felt like you understood the direction of the conversation. You reached across the table and took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it, “I missed you voice and all the noises that came from you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were still sharing all the ways you missed one another, only now Larissa was on the same side of the booth as you. Her legs were over your lap, your faces were incredibly close, and you were playing with her hands.

“I miss sleeping next to you. I always loved when you stayed the night.” Larissa spoke quietly, her words only for you.

“I miss how happy you always were in the mornings. It was always a pleasure waking up with you.” You press another kiss to her hand, this time on her palm. You hear Larissa suck in a breath, drawing your attention back to her face.

Then she kissed you. Her hands detangling from yours, pressing themselves to either side of your face. A hand of yours found itself at the back of her neck, drawing her near. The kiss was long and sought to fill the span in which you were absent from one another.

“I never loved anyone the way I loved you.” The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop yourself. Larissa didn’t speak. She only pressed her lips against yours once again.

It was the truth. After Larissa, no one ever compared. Flings couldn’t hold up sexually and long term relationships didn’t have the same connection. Only she understood you in all aspects.

When she spoke, her emotions mirrored yours, “No one’s ever compared to you. I’ve always loved you.”

You spent a long time in that back booth, kissing and whispering affirmations of love and adoration. Finally Larissa was the one to suggest leaving, “Perhaps we should see how much we remember from that anatomy textbook.”

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #wednesday netflix #larissa weems x reader #fanfic #oneshot #light smut

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profanepurity · 11 months

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I’ve been itching to ask but keep on forgetting to do so, but what was everyone’s reactions to finding out Diana and secondo we’re gonna have a kid (including the two of them)

I don’t know if this is awkward to ask as well, but from a world build standpoint how would that even work. I know that she was revived before her organs decomposed but it seems unlikely that Diana would be able to carry a child to full term without side effects

(Also I cannot stress enough how much I love this au but if I’m asking too many questions let me know)

You are not asking too many questions at all Bamboo!! I adore every single one so much!

I've been dying to answer this question for so long, and while there is definitely some stuff I want to draw for this, I couldn't wait and decided to answer it as a quick fic lol!

I did focus a bit more on the lore and how Diana managed to have a healthy pregnancy and child. I was a little brief with everyone else's reactions, but that's because I plan on expanding on that later!

For now, here is "Accouchement" 💐🪦

CW: mentions potential child loss

Word Count: 4060 🖤

The night was a blessing for them both.

Night brought a peace within their world that the light of the day chased out with discipline and obligations. Hushed words made conversations softer, more cherished, hanging onto every whisper in order to hear. Tall, black shadows shielded them from all but each other, hiding what was only meant for them to see. Yet even the comfort of nightfall could not protect them from all reality, even momentarily.

Secondo laid in bed next to his lover, staring up at the ceiling and the suggestion of a slowly moving fan in the darkness. Every once in a while his eyes would drift over her form beside him. The gentle curve of her hips, dipping down towards her waist. The bed sheets stopped at her chest, allowing him to see her bare shoulders and face, surrounded in short brown curls. Her ghoulish hand was resting on his chest, pressed over his heart. The chill of her flesh seemed to be the only thing calming its rapid hammering against his ribs.

Only an hour ago had Sister Diana, the woman beside him that had sunk her claws into his soul, told him that she was pregnant.

Both of their reactions had been quiet, allowing breath to pass lips slowly and hands to hold each other. Secondo has always been a confident and assured man. He was capable of both commanding and maintaining control. Yet now, he felt like he was falling. It was not that he didn’t welcome the news. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected such a warmth to form in his chest once the words had sunk in. He hadn’t expected to see Diana smiling, and feel one grace his lips as well. They equally shared happiness, as they did fear.

How this pregnancy would be kept to full term seemed implausible, despite the unbelievable fact that Diana had gotten pregnant at all. Her mind was still her own. Diana retained her humanity even after Secondo witnessed her claw herself out of the earth from her grave. Even after he watched her body pull itself from death, all while the towering presence of the Old One stood above her, willing her to rise from the tomb of the earth. The woman he loved was still here with him, but undeniably changed. The corpses she dressed before their journey to eternal rest now mirrored her pale face and icey flesh. The nun, referred to as the ghost of the mortuary by some siblings, now stands over her work like a reanimated body fulfilling her duties for her fellow deceased. Even now, as her chill calmed the raging fire under his skin, he could not see the subtle rise and fall of her breathing, simultaneously furthering his panic.

That would be something Secondo would have to learn to get used to.

Sister Diana was dead. The mere idea of her carrying life inside her was a miracle… one that would surely burn out like a weak flame. It was a certain fact, however, that he did not question, as the unholy mother had came to Diana in a dream to confirm it, as she does with many newly expecting mothers. Secondo was still a Cardinal under his older brother, Papa Emeritus Primo, and Sister Diana was not married to him, yet the pregnancy still received a blessing, not that that was an expectacion necessarily.

Secondo let in a very quiet, sharp inhale as the ring he wore on his finger sent a sharp pain across his entire hand and up his arm for the tenth time that night since he’d gone to bed. It felt almost like the golden band was biting into his flesh. The ring had been a gift on the day he had ascended as a cardinal, from Bishop Avarice… a friend.

He lifted his hand slowly to his face, and even in the darkness he could make out a thin trail of blood spilling down the palm of his hand and down his wrist, confirmed by the cool feeling of the liquid against his skin.

His eyes darted towards the clock on his nightstand. The “bites” had come every three minutes now, starting since three o'clock this morning. Secondo would have scoffed at how cliche that was, if he wasn’t so genuinely disturbed. He knew it must mean something, what, he didn’t have a damn clue.

Every gift, word, and look from Bishop Avarice, is one from the demon, Beelzebub. The infernal king of devils, and prince of gluttony, plague, war and… fertility.

Fuck

The Cardinal felt his heartbeat grow faster now than it did this entire night. Secondo rarely cared what the high clergy had to say or feel regarding him. While he did respect Avarice, he did not bat an eye at the idea of keeping him waiting. Beelzebub was an entirely different thing, one which he has kept waiting for half an hour at this point.

Carefully, Secondo pried himself from Sister Diana’s arms. It felt like he was removing himself from his own tomb in a way, leaving the comfort of death to face something far more terrifying.

Secondo spared himself a single glance in the mirror after putting on his cassock. He froze at the sight of the bottle of whiskey on his desk, staring back at him in the reflection. He turned and grabbed it, trying not to make an sound. It felt like an eternity and more as he crept through the room towards his door, making every step silent and controlled, slow.

The moment he shut the door behind him with a gentle click, he practically flew down the hallway towards the offices of the bishops.

***

The Cardinal’s rapid foot falls ceased abruptly as he rounded the corner and found himself at the entrance of the hallway he was looking for. Doors of each office faced eachother as the shadows warped and elongated their forms. The lights were small and dim, higher up towards the ceiling, and only served in making the darkness seem harsher by contrast.

Secondo took a slow and controlled breath. He needed to enter this space calmly and in control, not only for his pride but for his own well being. Best not to let a predator know you are scared, and he was about to walk into a cave full of hungry, hellish beasts.

The energy of this part of the church always felt different, no matter the time of day. However, at this hour, the air was thin, and would easily make you feel light headed. Every part of his exposed skin felt chilled, like he was in a cold sweat and feverish. His body moved itself to the right door, seeing the silver plate on the wall that titled the room to belong to the “bishop” he sought.

One hand clutched the bottle of whiskey in a death grip while the other raised itself against the door and knocked, once, twice, and then a final time. He didn’t breathe as he waited for that relieving click of the door unlocking itself. It was only once his lungs started burning did he hear it, which allowed him to inhale slowly once more before he opened the door.

The sight within the office was daunting, but not in the way you might expect. There was no hellfire or horrific sight of a demon crawling along the ceiling to devour him. Instead, what greeted him was Lord Beelzebub, still passable as human in appearance, reclining back in his chair. He looked relaxed, reading while he smoked. His coat was off and his collar was loosened. He also seemed happy, as the smile on his face was subtle but undeniably there. Secondo couldn’t remember the last time he had seen such a thing. The Reverend Avarice was an intimidating man, powerful as he was mentally, socially, and physically, who rarely smiled. From the way he dressed, to the intensity of his eyes, he made you feel helplessly small, as everything about the bishop was big. Given his looks, this was not something that the siblings necessarily complained about.

All the same, Secondo was aware of the opinions that circulated around the church regarding himself.

The source of his seemingly good mood, mysterious as it was, was taken as a blessing from Satanas. Secondo had been certain he would be angered by having to call to him ten times through the ring. This wasn’t something the Cardinal was necessarily aware of, thinking it only to be a simple ring, but the gift had been so obviously given to him for a purpose, from someone like Beelzebub. He should have known, yet was grateful still for the patience the demon showed.

“Your dark Eminence. Here I thought you were ignoring us.” Beelzebub’s tone was as leisurely as his posture, yet it made Secondo freeze and remain silent. Us? His eyes dare to move away from the demon and towards the other side of the room. He was astonished that he hadn’t seen the other man in the room.

Bishop Lucrum stood on the other side of the office, looking over papers that were laid out over a desk. A tall, thin man that somehow always managed to look animated, even when still. As colorful as his personality was, he held a fair amount of respect within the church, and a repuation that cautioned any one daring to cross him. He had a heavy amount of authority in the church’s financial board, and often worked closely with Bishop Avarice, his brother, delivering sermons and structuring lessons for the youth seminary.

In the same vein, he was known to work with Father Null regarding the same matters, and others that were a bit more hush hush. Between the two cheerful bastards that were Father Null and Bishop Lucrum, Secondo didn’t have a clue how Avarice didn’t tear his beard off in ire.

He could also himself the same, regarding Terzo.

Bishop Lucrum, who was really Lord Mammon, king of greed, wealth, and prosperity, did look up at Secondo after a moment, stealing him with a gaze that often unnerved most siblings. His left eye, replaced by a glass prosthetic, glinted in the light, as gold as a coin itself. The Cardinal suspected he chose it to be a little unnerving.

The personalities of these demons were simply unfiltered versions of their human guises. Whereas Bishop Lucrum was more of a showman and a talker, Bishop Avarice was a firm, steady authority, yet both brothers could be equally as threatening.

Two sides of the same coin.

“Lord Beelzebub…Lord Mammon. I’m sorry I didn’t come immediately when you first summoned me.” Secondo kept his tone controlled, not daring to break eye contact with Mammon until the demon spoke to him, yet he felt just as tense not having Beelzebub in his line of sight. Why? He’s worked with both of these infernals for several years now. He was not used to feeling so infuriating nervous.

“You can make it up to us by pouring us some Grappe and sitting down.” Hearing that, Secondo began to wonder if Beelzebub was being so passive deceptively.

“I would love to, but I actually brought you both a bottle of Whistlepig for us to enjoy. I know you both enjoy it.” The Cardinal sets the bottle on Beelzebub’s desk, still keeping his eyes on Mammon’s face. The sight of the whiskey finally makes the thinner demon’s lips twitch upwards into a smirk.

“For us? You’re really trying to get on our good side tonight, aren’t you, Cardinal.” Mammon’s statement makes Secondo finally feel releashed from that golden, hypnotic gaze that held his attention for so long. He could finally turn his neck, feeling an ache in it set in from how tense the muscles had been.

Damn, he’s getting old.

“Well pour the whiskey then, it’s already almost 4 am. We only have two hours like this.” Beelzebub puts down what he was reading and raises his cigar to his lips to inhale the dark, reddish looking smoke. As he exhaled, it slipped past his lips and sharp teeth, reminding Secondo of a fire burning inside his chest and release smoke.

Secondo grabbed three glasses from the small bar desk kept in his office, bringing them to Beelzebub’s desk and arranging them in a triad. The pouring liquor seemed to be enough to draw Mammon closer, as his footsteps behind him made Secondo tense up once again before relaxing as he simply goes to sit beside his brother, adjusting his suit jacket and resting an elbow on the table comfortably.

Secondo sits down across from them once he finishes pouring each glass, and there is a moment where the three of them just stared at eachother, none speaking or moving to grab their drink. Both demons simply stared at Secondo for a moment. With the two of them next to eachother, it was easier to see the similarities along with the more obvious differences. Siblings often liked to gossip over which one was the eldest brother, being as their was little to no information about them anywhere, and they could only go by the vague and disconnected information that the bishops would share verbally. Secondo knew these demons to be ageless, simply and unfathomably, and left it at that. The two men he was looking at now were no more than illusions of the horrors that they truly were.

“How did she get pregnant?” The question left his lips in a rush of quiet exasperation after who knows how long, as Secondo looked between the two other men. He could see them slowly look at eachother and spare looks of silent humor and mocking incredulously raised brows, as if his question really had been that obvious and simple.

“I think that’s obvious, Cardinal.” Beelzebub, in response to his shaken words, idly blows a light amount of smoke past his own lips.

Secondo found himself standing over the two demons before he started thinking, rage rushing through him like a dam that had finally broke. He stares down over them in a still bridled but dangerously tempted rage.

“You known damn well why I ask that! Stop playing fucking games with me and tell me how I can keep this child!”

The result of his outburst rewarded him with Beelzebub rising from his chair, easily matching, if not surpassing his height once he moved around the desk. Secondo was a taller man himself after all. The demon’s burning red and yellow eyes bore into him like brands of fire. So much for his good mood just a moment ago, though Secondo really could only blame himself for that.

“You can’t. You don’t need us to tell you that. I thought that would be somewhat of a relief to you, Secondo. Now you don’t have to worry about replicating your father’s neglect onto your kid.”

“You don’t have to give up your lifestyle either. Kids are expensive Cardinal, I can’t imagine you’d be able to keep having all those night outs anymore.” Mammon remained in his chair, leaning heavily on the desk as he rolled a coin between each of his fingers, watching him and Beelzebub idly, not batting an eye at the stand off.

“And you won’t have to be tied to a life long committed to Diana… perfect, right?” Beelzebub never broke his stare straight into his very skull. He held it all the while Secondo remained silent, unable to summon any words to pass his lips, much less form in his mind after that bombardment of…uncomfortable truths. As much as he loved Diana, commitment was something they both struggled with, and mutually agreed, for now, not to force any kind of decision between the two of them.

After a moment of silence, Beelzebub speaks again, somewhat less intensely.

“Why do you think I bothered to call you in here ten times if the answers were that simple?”

“... So that we can arrange a pact.” Finally, the Cardinal finds his voice. His fists clench for a moment at how easily Beelzebub had stolen that ability from him. Again, Secondo was in no way used to having the ease of control over a room stripped from him. Not that this is by any means an average room.

“So you do want a way to have it all? I won’t lie to you, I’m liking all this greed, Cardinal.” Mammon leans back in his chair as Beelzebub moves to go sit back down beside his brother.

“Accepting change, yet wanting nothing to change, all at the same time. Something has to give though, doesn’t it? What are willing to sacrifice?” Mammon pauses the movement of the rolling coin between his first and middle finger, staring at him with a deceptively nice face. His eyes looked ready to swallow him in golden flames.

“Anything. Whatever you both want, I will give.” Secondo remains standing, following the larger demon’s movements with his eyes, but taking care to respond to Mammon.

“Careful, Secondo. Be very, very careful with your words here…” Beelzebub leans forward in his chair a little, lowering his tone and slowing his words, willing them to grip the Cardinal by his throat.

“If you allow us to take anything, we will take anything.”

Secondo sat back down, slowly sinking into the furniture. He had such a grip on the arm of the chair he was sitting in now that it creaked. He felt like a child being reprimanded for speaking out of turn. He was not a young man, his behavior was foolish as minimum in this. It infuriated him almost as much as these demons… who were his friends. Why was this such a tense conversation? Why did this need to feel like he was fighting just to breath in this room, let alone have a civil conversation. Could they not just give him grace, just this once, after the past three months of his life have been destroyed and rebuilt in a haze of chaos.

Then Beelzebub’s eyes dimmed, pulling back the flame and instead fixing him with a colder stare that felt like relief to Secondo, where some may find it harsh looking.

“If I allow you to have this child, I want your full devotion to me. No more of this lenient bullshit, I’m not fucking around anymore. You will give me your entire life and practice, before during, and after you become Papa Emeritus Secondo. Do this, and Diana will have a healthy pregancy and deliver the child with no issue.” Beelzebub’s demand left no room for any kind of negotiation on that deal, despite the immense gravity of it. His tone left no doubt in Secondo that it was indeed a promise.

This didn’t stop the Cardinal from looking over at Mammon for his demand, “... What is your price, Lord?”

“You couldn’t pay me any amount of cash to cut a deal with you.” A light chuckle erupts from him as he leans back even more, knitting his claws together over his stomach. His smile showed off golden fangs, reflecting slightly in the light of the office.

“I will allow you to keep your lifestyle, your papalcy will be bigger than your brother’s in every way, and the ghost project is going to spike under your reign.” Mammon’s words came off so easy, just like his smile.

Secondo tensely waited for the catch. He already knew before he told him that he couldn’t simply pay the Lord of Greed, unfortunately.

“You’re going to use that time in the spot light to work your ass off for both of us. If I need a special favor, I need you to fulfill it, no questions asked. The work you put in won’t affect your time with your family, but it will be demanding. Your time working with me is payment. More importantly, it’s also paving the way for your brothers, and for your kid.”

Mammon adjusted the watch on his wrist to check the time after laying out his equally demanding expectations for the Cardinal.

Secondo was silent for a moment, letting this sink in. He knew this wasn’t something that was going to make him sink to the bottom, but it would test him, extremely so.

Perhaps that was the point of this being so difficult, to prepare him for trial. Is this what Primo has to deal with on a regular basis with these infernals?

Another reality just got added to his mind with that thought, among a mountain of others. The words of the demons blended together in his head as he stared down at his untouched glass of whiskey. The idea of working, not just for his debt to Mammon and Beelzebub, but for his brothers and unborn child did stick with him more than he anticipated it would. If he could give them even a slightly better chance at success than he and Primo had, he could feel like he did something for them. He could feel like he filled in as their older brother and father properly, unlike Nihil, who couldn’t be bothered to give them a single fair opportunity, much less the time of day.

This was his opportunity to pave the way for something greater than himself.

“... Shall we drink to it then?” Secondo looks up at them, his gaze steady and voice firm in his decision.

Mammon grabs his glass without missing a beat, but Beelzebub doesn’t move so fast. He takes one more moment to lock eyes with the Cardinal, evaluating something inside of him, before a small smile finally came across his own features again. Beelzebub reached for the glass and picked it up.

“Let’s drink to it.” The affirmation is back to a steady and lighter demeanor.

The three men tilt back their drinks and to take a sip, solidifying the pact and marking an eternal devotion to the sin of greed. Finally, Secondo felt like he could breathe once more, like the liquor had some how opened his lungs and throat to allow in oxygen, and his mind stopped racing so much. The two demons before him simply looked content and happy to knock back a whiskey that was really meant to be sipped, yet they downed it as easily as water.

“Congratulations, friend. You’ll be a wonderful father.” Mammon’s grin looked natural finally as he handed him that coin that was in his hand, possessing a slight glow to it. The seal of Beelzebub was engraved on one side, while the seal of Mammon was on the other.

***

Telling his brothers that Sister Diana was pregant was much easier, as he expected it to be. Their initial reactions had been shocked, concerned, and confused, much like he had been. Papa Primo and his Prime Mover, Elizabeth, had approached him the night that he had broke the news to them all. They were understandably worried. He knew they were checking to see if he knew the likelihood of the pregancy being carried to full term was slim, he knew that from the way Eliza’s eyes seemed glassy, and Primo kept trying to search his eyes. He also knew their concerns would eventually be diluted by pleasant hope and confusion once the pregancy reached five healthy months, and it did.

Terzo and Copia, who remained silent at first, began to grow a bit more anxious and excited as the prospect of being uncles. It was finally hitting them that this could be real.

Elizabeth’s joy for her beloved friend only grew with Diana over the next months, hope slowly increasing into full blown delight. Primo finally began smiling again when he saw Sister Diana with him towards the end of her pregancy.

On the day of the accouchement, the birth of his daughter made the ministry glow with pride and happiness. Cardinal Secondo Emeritus ushering in the continuation of the bloodline was nothing short of celebrated. The high clergy all sent their blessings and well wishes to his family. Bishop Avarice and Bishop Lucrum offered their assistance with the newborn if it was needed, as friends would.

Perhaps the jubilation was why Secondo agreed to allow his father, Papa Emeritus Nihil, to hold his newborn granddaughter, Bellamy, during her dedication to the Unblessed Mother and Father.

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