#BUT THEN she turns up wearing basically the exact same????

[sometimesanalice]

Bad Idea

Summary: After being deployed, all Bradley wanted was to have a fun night out with his friends and let loose. That is until he sees the woman who broke up with him, who he still isn’t over.  At his bar. With another man. And then he is in the mood to make some bad decisions. 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, a little angst, smuttt. Minors DNI

Length: 6.3K

After being deployed for three months, Bradley had been looking forward to getting off that carrier and having a night out with his friends. Having a couple more beers than he should, kicking Hangman’s ass at pool, maybe flirting one of the many tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck.

He wants to let loose a bit. Just for a while. 

The team is scattered around the bar. Some are hovering around the pool table, a few others hogging the dart board. He’s seated at one of the stools around the pool table, half listening to Fanboy recount some of his amusing antics during basic flight training in between lining up his shots, when he feels Phoenix nudge his arm to get his attention.

“Oh shit, is that…” she starts and trails off. 

He turns around in his seat expecting to find some friend from a former squadron or someone they went to TOPGUN with, and instead he sees you. 

The woman that he has spent the last three months trying to get over.

And you’re here in front of him looking entirely too comfortable with another man.

“Is that Zach Collins she’s with?” Phoenix asked pointedly, being decidedly unsubtle as she studies you and your date. 

“Sure looks like it,” he grunts. He lets his eyes linger on you, absorbing the shape of your curves. 

You are just as pretty as ever. The summer had been good to you, all your sun kissed skin was on display in the strappy open back top you were wearing. 

There’s a cluster of freckles on your right shoulder blade, he can’t see them from here, but he remembers their exact placement all the same. 

He feels the low pull in his stomach, not surprised in the least that you still have this effect on him. He wants to trace those straps with his fingers, wants to see if your skin is just as smooth as knew it to be.

You should be here with him.

Collins was fine. 

Bradley had worked with the engineer a few times in the past, and there wasn’t anything wrong with the guy. Except for that one time he asked one of the new female engineers to make the coffee for the team’s weekly debrief, which he was quickly put in his place for.

He was just boring as fuck. 

And apparently somehow lucky enough to have caught your eye.

“Damn, I really liked her,” Phoenix lamented, watching as your date handed you a drink, “What the hell did you do to send her into Collins arms?” 

“Thanks for the support, Nat,” he grumbles, down the rest of his beer in one go. Squeezing the empty glass a little too hard when he sees Collins checking out your ass as you leaned forward to chat with Penny above the noise of the bar. 

“But seriously, Rooster, she was so into you,” she continued as she turned back towards him, looking at him scrutinizingly, “There was no way that she would have been the one to end it with you, so what were you thinking letting her go?”

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t just bet on that.” He was regretting downing his beer, he’d need another one if Nat is going to give him the third degree.

“Hold up, she dumped you?” she asks perplexed, her eyebrows pulling together.

“Yup.” The word was flat and hollow even in his own ears.

He’d spent most of his free time during that deployment working off his feelings in the weight room. 

Instead of counting his sets, he was thinking about you and racking his brain trying to figure out what went wrong. Going over the night you broke up with him over and over again. Pushing himself until his arms shook and his legs couldn’t support the added weights. Combing through everything he could think of, only to come up with nothing. 

You hadn’t been dating that long, but you had made him happier than he had felt in a long time. And he thought he had made you happy too.  

He had been so into you.

And now you’re here at the bar he used to bring you to and standing close to Zach fucking Collins instead of being tucked under his arm.

Smiling at Zach fucking Collins instead of grinning at him.

Politely chuckling with Zach fucking Collins instead of unabashedly laughing with him. 

Bradley hated the feeling settling in his stomach as he watched you give Zach fucking Collins your full attention. He can still remember how good it felt to have it directed at him. How warm it made his chest when you turned the full force of your smile on him.

You must feel the intensity of his stare or of his wishful thinking because you turn to scan the bar, and he swears he stops breathing for a second when your eyes snag on his. The smile freezing on your lips as you hold his gaze.

If it wasn’t completely obvious before this, it’s even more clear to him that he is absolutely nowhere near being over you. And with you looking at him now, he doesn’t want to be. 

He can’t quite read the look that’s in your eyes, but it makes his gut twist with longing.

And then Zach fucking Collins is putting his hand on your bare shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. 

All Bradley knows in that moment is that he needs to talk to you right fucking now. That he wants you back.

“I need another beer,” he announces, tapping his knuckles on the table. 

“That seems like a bad idea considering who is currently occupying the bar. How about I go get the next round?” Nat suggested, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Funny you’d say that, since that’s exactly what I was thinking too.”

He had an idea coming together, he couldn’t claim it was a good one, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

“Rooster.”

“Phoenix,” he retorted, “Remember when I covered for you when you were hooking up with that civvy in the barracks? I’m calling in the favor, Nat.”

“Why do I feel like this has the potential to be a bad idea?” she muttered, shaking her head as she slid out of her chair.

As he watches Natasha weave her way through the crowd, he realizes there are a variety of ways this could backfire. But he pushes all those thoughts out of his head when he sees her striking up a conversation with the engineer, providing the distraction he needs to talk with you alone.

He saunters up to the bar, admiring your profile as he gets closer. Raising a hand to flag Penny down as he settles down next to you.

“It’s good to see you, Rooster. It’s been awhile. Another one for you?” Penny asks, and he feels you stiffen next to him. 

“Thanks, Penny. It’s nice to be home. And I’ll take a pint of the Pale Ale too, please.”

Bradley watches as Penny briefly glances at you. He gives her a small nod in confirmation as she grabs the glasses to pour the beers. 

She slides them over giving him an entirely too knowing look before turning to help another patron. 

“How have you been?” he asks as he passes you the beer, noting that your perfume hasn’t changed since he’s been gone.

“I’ve been fine, Rooster,” you say mildly. 

“You look good,” he murmurs softly. 

He’s not surprised when you that, instead choosing to make small talk since your date was conveniently occupied, “So…How long were you away?”

“Three months,” he says leaning a hip against the bar to face you.

He sees as you put it together, that he’s been gone almost as long as you’ve been broken up.

“Well, I’m glad you’re home safe. But you didn’t need to do that,” you say gesturing to the drink.

The one you are nursing is still over half full, but it feels right that he should be the one buying your drinks. 

“What’s one beer between…” he pauses for a moment, letting his gaze playfully rake over you before settling on, “Friends.”

Your eyebrow ticks up pointedly, “My ex probably shouldn’t be buying me a drink when I’m on a date with someone else.”

We don’t have to be.

“Tell me, what’s Collins bringing to the table?” he asks jerking his chin towards the dull engineer. 

He tried to swallow down the flicker of irritation that sparked when he said the other man’s name, but the frustration wells up in his chest.

“Don’t,” you say sharply, your pretty eyes flashing, “You don’t get to act jealous, Rooster. You are the one who wanted to break up with me.”

“What are you talking about?” he presses, feeling his brows knitting together, “You’re the one who broke up with me.” 

“Stop. I may have beat you to it, but I heard you talking to Jake,” your voice had gone tight, and you wouldn’t look at him, “You told him how you wanted to end it, but weren’t sure how to do it. So I did it for you.” 

This conversation was not going the way he hoped it would, and now he was more confused than ever.

“Wait, what?” he asks settling a hand on your waist to turn you towards him. He genuinely had no clue where you’d gotten that from, “I didn’t want to break up.”

“Seriously, Rooster?” Your eyes shoot back to him and he can see your temper flaring there.

Shaking your head at him in frustration, you grab his hand and pull him away from the bar to a quiet corner of the bar. 

He’d be more smug about how you’ve ditched your date for him, if his mind wasn’t all over the place trying to figure out what the hell you were talking about.

“I came out on the patio that night to see if you and Jake wanted another round, and I heard you. ‘I don’t know how to tell her, and we’ve only been together three months. It’s just too much.’ Does that sound familiar?” you questioned, raising your chin at him in a challenge.

Of course, he remembers that night. 

As if he hadn’t played it over and over.  He remembered how withdrawn you had been when he had come back inside with Jake. You ended things with him less than thirty minutes later.

And now he knows why. 

It hadn’t been him. It was a misunderstanding. A conversation taken out of context. The pressure in his chest that had been building up eases.

He can’t erase the last three months, but he can fix this. He needs to fix this.

You look so hurt, and all he wants to do is pull you to his chest. 

“I didn’t want to wait around for you to break my heart, so I made it easy for you and ended it myself instead,” your voice thick.

He is waiting for you to realize that your hand is still in his.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he promised as he steps closer to you, squeezing your hand, “That night on the patio? I told Jake about my orders, I wanted to ask him how he had navigated the long distance with his girlfriend. I didn’t know how to tell you I was going to be shipped out last minute and gone for basically as long as we had been together.” 

“The deployment you just came back from,” you whisper, as realization dawned on your face.

He nods and searches your eyes, willing you to be back on the same page as him. He hasn’t stopped wanting you, not once since you broke things off with him. 

There is a hopefulness in your eyes for the first time since he approached you at the bar, and he’s encouraged.

And then he sees your face fall.

“I… I should get back to my date,” you mumbled, dropping his hand and looking away from him.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he repeats firmly, ducking his head trying meet your avoidant gaze.

He needs you to hear him. 

“It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done,” you tell him quietly as you walk back to Collins where he was still wrapped up in whatever small talk Nat had been forcing on him.

“The hell it is,” he says to himself, resolve firm in his chest. 

You tried to keep up with Zach as he chattered away, you really did. But try as you might you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the propulsion system his team was developing. 

You hadn’t been back to the Hard Deck since you ended things with Bradley.

When Zach had suggested bringing you here, you balked a bit at the thought of running into any of the people you had met and befriended through Bradley. 

At the idea of being known as just his ex. 

At the possibility of seeing him again.

It had been three months, you should be over him. Hearing his name shouldn’t still make your heart stutter in your chest. Seeing him in that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt shouldn’t make you long to take it off of him.

He looked so good tonight. 

You didn’t know how it was possible, but he looks even more broad now than he did before.

Bradley Bradshaw’s baseline is handsome, but tonight it’s been a test to keep yourself from admiring the way the cuff on his shirt hugs his biceps. How the ridges of his abs stand in relief against his undershirt. Did his jeans always grip to his thighs like that?

And god, you feel terrible about thinking about him like that when you’re literally on a date with another man. But not guilty enough to stop yourself from checking him out every chance you got.

And there was no avoiding him, Bradley was everywhere. A constant reminder of just how royally you fucked everything up. 

He was already at the bar when you were planning on getting about her round. 

Hovering near the jukebox when you were about to go feed it some quarters to put a stop to the painful and unending Jason Aldean retrospective. 

Needless to say, your glass remained empty, but thankfully someone changed the music and one of your favorite bands was playing over the speakers. 

It is impossible not to feel his presence, his energy. You swear there are times you feel his heated gaze on you, the sensation of it sending pulses of electricity down your spine. 

He wasn’t going to dump you.

Bradley seemed too good to be true, so when you overheard that conversation you’d let your mind spiral instead of just talking to him. Because what else could he have been talking about other than figuring out how to end things with you?

A deployment apparently. 

He had called and texted afterwards, and you deleted every single attempt without looking. Why didn’t you just talk to him?

And you couldn’t see a way to get back to how things were with him, now that he’d seen you self-destruct in spectacular fashion. 

Why would he want to be with you after you dumped him so casually, like it didn’t mean anything. Like he didn’t mean anything to you. 

God, you were such an idiot. 

Zach had been gone for a few minutes. He went to get another drink for himself, and had apparently forgotten about it since he was engaged in deep conversation with someone you recognized as a member of his team from the introductions earlier in the evening.

You’re startled by a warm hand skimming your shoulder. Surprised when Bradley pulls out the chair next to you, his knee nudging yours as he settles into it like he belongs there. 

“How long have you been seeing him?” he asks, leaning in to your space.

“It’s our third date.”

You weren’t sure what he was playing at, but if this was going to be one of the last times you saw him, you were going to let yourself have this. Even if it was a terrible idea.

“How’d you meet?”

“As one does in the twenty-first century, on an app,” you retort, tapping a couple fingers on your phone that is resting on the table.

Truth be told, you had only installed it after a drunken Girls Night a couple weeks ago. Zach was the first person you’ve been out with since Bradley. And you were quickly learning that he had set the bar high.

“Our story is better,” he rasps, there was an unwavering intensity in way he was looking at you. 

“Well, not everyone gets a meet cute, Rooster,” you sigh resigned. 

“We did.”

You can smell faintest hint of bourbon and bitters on his breath. He told you once it’s usually his liquor of choice when he is in the mood to make some bad decisions. And you briefly wonder whether or not that’s the reason why he is drinking it tonight.

“Yes, we did,” you admit softly.

Bradley Bradshaw had literally knocked you off your feet before he figuratively swept you off of them. 

He had been absolutely mortified when he had accidentally collided with you during a game of dog fight football when you had been walking along the beach after brunch with your friends. He had all but carried you up to the Hard Deck to help clean you up and to make sure you were ok.

Concern turned into flirting, “you’re too pretty for a concussion” he’d told you. While the line was cheesy, the snug denim shorts he was wearing were decidedly not. And then flirting turned into an invitation to meet up later that day where he could properly apologize in the form of a great night out and drinks on him. 

And a couple weeks later you were spending most nights in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets and sandalwood scent. 

You feel instantly warm remembering just how good it felt to have Bradley’s strong body pressed against yours.

“Has he made you come?” 

“Jesus, Bradley!” You shoot straight up in your seat, looking around wide-eyed trying to make sure no one overheard that particular comment. Shocked by his words and the way he seemed to know where your mind had wandered. 

“Do you remember our second date?” he questioned, his voice dropping lower. He’s even closer now.

Of course, you remembered. 

There was no way you could ever forget the way he had worked you with his fingers in his Bronco parked at a scenic viewpoint along the coast. How it felt to writhe on his lap with your dress rucked up your thighs as he rasped dirty praise in your ear. 

You had never moved that quickly with anyone. Had ever felt that much chemistry with anyone. Had never wanted anyone as much as you had wanted him. Had never come as quick with anyone else.

You felt hot all over. With confusion. With longing. 

“Bradley,” you warned, it sounded weak in your own ears.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he steadfastly tells you again for the third time this evening.

“I heard you the first time,” you snap.

You are entirely too aware of how you fucked everything up. It���s been the only thing on your mind all night since he told you.

“You sure about that?” The irritation in his voice, matching the heat in his eyes, “Then what are you still doing with him?” 

It wasn’t fair for him to toy with you like this. He said it was a beer between friends. He hasn’t said anything that makes you think he would give you a second chance. That door was closed, but it didn’t hurt any less. Not when you were still so into him.

“He’s… nice,” you mutter unconvincingly, fiddling with your coaster.

“Nice?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Bradley. Nice.” You can hear how defensive you sound, but somewhere in the back of your mind realize that you’re having a better time arguing with Bradley than you’ve had all night with Zach.

“Baby, Collins is as bland as that gluten free bread you keep trying to trick yourself into liking.”

You can’t control the laugh that escapes you in that moment. 

Surprised that he remembers that about you, almost as if he knew about the sad sandwich you had lamented over during your lunch break earlier in the day. When you promised yourself that you’d stop buying that terribly unsatisfying gluten free bread.

The heated pressure that has been building between the two of you breaks. His eyes soften and the tension leaves his face as the corner of his mouth twitches up in a half smile.

“I missed that sound,” he murmurs, as he traces a thumb along the delicate skin of your wrist. “I thought about it a lot on that carrier. Thought about how much I missed you. Your laugh. Your smile. The sounds you made in my bed.”

Your breath catches in your throat. And for the first time that night you think there might be a chance.

You don’t know, but you’re desperate to find out. Your heart is pounding, as you open your mouth to ask the question-

“Hey, Bradshaw,” Zach interrupts, returning back to the table with a fresh drink in his hand, “I heard you just got back.”

You jerk back, surprised by just how close you and Bradley had gravitated towards each other during the conversation. How had you not noticed that your faces had been scarcely a few inches away from each other?

Bradley’s unwavering gaze is still on you. You can feel him willing you to ask the question that had been on the tip of your tongue, but you barely knew where you stood with him. 

Could barely think around him when he looked at you like that.

“Do you guys know each other?” he asks curiously, glancing between the two of you as Bradley ignores him in favor of staring at you.

“Uhm, yeah. You could say that,” you hedge uncomfortably, trying not to fidget in your seat.

“Biblically,” you hear him huff under his breath, for your ears only.

“Well, the dart board is finally open. How about we play couple rounds?” Zach suggests, settling his hand on your shoulder.  

You can tell by the way Bradley is flexing his jaw that he wants to say more. And you’re dying to throw yourself at him, to ask him if he would ever want to open that door again. 

But you had read him so wrong the first time, you didn’t trust yourself not to get it wrong again.

So you slide off the stool instead, “I’ll see you around, Rooster.”

Phoenix told him he was watching you with a stalker-like intensity, Bradley argued he was just being observant. 

“And don’t even think about sending me back in to try and distract Collins again. Frankly, I think you owe me a favor now. That guy is painfully boring,” she’d complained.

If you didn’t want him, he hoped you could figure out a way to be friends. Even if you did have history. 

And friends tell each other the truth, like when they’re dating the human equivalent of a rice cake. Or that they should forget about the rice cake completely and come back to him instead.

He noticed when your beer was getting low, and just so casually stationed himself near the bar for another chance to talk to you. But when you didn’t move for a refill, he had to resort to more drastic measures.

It had hurt him to pay for and queue up that terrible country music, but he figured it would be worth it if he could catch you by the jukebox, knowing that you hated this music just as much as he did.

But you when didn’t get up to change it as he expected you to, he’d put on one of your favorite artists instead and made his way back to his friends. Trying to figure out how else he could get you alone to talk. 

Usually he didn’t mind an audience, but tonight he didn’t want anyone else getting in between the two of you.

He thought he would finally have his moment to make you see reason and choose him when Collins had gotten waylaid at the bar, probably talking about math equations or whatever the fuck engineers talked about. 

But that conversation had only left him half hard and entirely desperate for you. And he didn’t feel any closer to getting you back than he had at the beginning of the night.

Having been banished by Jake for being “pathetically sulky”, he was sitting at the bar by himself staring into his untouched Old Fashioned. Which worked just fine for him, he wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone other than you.

Bradley wasn’t ready to be done. 

He could see it in your eyes that you weren’t ready to be done either, but he couldn’t figure out why you were holding back. He thought he had been clear that he still wanted you. 

Now that you knew it had all be a misunderstanding, he’d respect your decision if you didn’t want to be with him. But he needed to hear you say it. To tell him to his face.

You couldn’t actually think that Collins was a good match for you. You deserved so much better than that guy. 

And he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you turning down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he struck with another bad idea. Probably the worst one of the night. 

Shooting up from his seat, he catches up with you in a few long strides. And then recklessly, he is grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you with him into the Hard Deck’s storage room.

You whirl on him instantly, “Oh my god, Bradley! What the hell?”

He knows he had been toeing the line all night, but now he’s made you angry. 

And it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. The blaze in your eyes, the way your chest is rapidly rising up and down. Even in this dingy, dimly lit room you’re still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“Sorry, sorry,” he tries to soothe, putting both his hands up. “But you and I both know we weren’t finished talking before Collins-”

“Enough, Bradley. You weren’t going to end it. I get it, I messed up!” you cut him off, putting a hand to your chest, “You’re already so hard to move on from, but I don’t think I can handle anymore of you dangling what could have been in my face. It’s not fair that you won’t let me try, if you don’t want me that way anymore.”

You turn to leave and his heart squeezes in his chest. This can’t be it. He doesn’t want this to be the end.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he desperately reaches out, pulling you against his chest. You tense as he wraps his arms around the front of you, “What gave you that idea? Talk to me. Please.”

It feels right to have you in his arms again. To hold you. And you fit just as perfectly against him as he remembered.

“I feel like you’re giving me mixed signals. You called us friends at the bar, but then you tell me all the ways you thought about me while you were deployed,” you admit quietly, “I don’t know what to think. And I already ruined a good thing, I don’t want to be wrong again.”

He would prove just how serious he was about you in whatever way you wanted. In words. In actions. Or if you wanted him to fuck some sense into you, he’d happily oblige.

Nothing mattered more to him than figuring this out with you. He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers a second time. 

“Let me be as clear as possible, I don’t want you to move on from me. Because I still want you,” he murmurs, letting his lips skim up your neck to the shell of your ear, “I never stopped wanting you. So if you want me, baby, you’ve got me.”

“As easy as that?” you ask cautiously, almost disbelievingly.

“As easy as that,” he promises.

“Of course I want you, Bradley,” you breathe, as you settle your hand over his where they are wrapped around you, melting into him, “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, not when I still like you so much.”

“Then I’m yours,” he grins, as he nudges your temple with his nose.

He likes the way your name feels in his mouth, as he kisses your neck and whispers your name against the skin there.

“Bradley,” you whisper. 

“Does it feel like I want to be just friends with you?” he asks, pressing himself more firmly against curve of your ass.

“No,” you moan, as you lean your head back against his shoulder, where it belongs.

“You’ve got me,” he murmurs, as he presses line of kisses along shoulder, “Now show me how you want me, baby.”

Taking his left hand, you guide it up to rest against your chest. He can feel how rapidly your heart is beating under his palm, he thinks his is going just as fast. And with the other, you smooth it down the front of your body until its resting low on your stomach.

You squeeze his hands briefly, letting go of them for long enough for you to unbutton to your jeans, before encouraging his right hand to go lower.

Bradley lets his fingers lightly trail over the top of your panties. He groans, recognizing them by feel alone, “Are these the little blue ones I got you?”

“They’re my favorites.” You tell him as you arch into him, trying to get his fingers to go lower still.

“I’m the only one who gets to see these on you,” he growls as he pulls out his hand to yank down your zipper.

“Yes, only you,” you keen, “There hasn’t been anyone else since you. Only wanted you.”

He feels frenzied now as he shoves your tight jeans down to you knees.

He wants you needy and writhing for him. He wants to feel you wet for him. He wants you to come chanting his name. He imagined taking you so many ways when he was on that carrier, he almost can’t believe he gets to have you this way again.

“You’ve got me.”

It’s a promise. It’s a vow.

He thrusts his denim clad knee between your thighs to hold you open as he slides his fingers back into the pretty light blue panties he bought for you.

You cry out when his fingers connect with your clit. He works you there with deliberately slow circles, satisfied by how wet you already are for him.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he says, resting his forehead against your temple. 

“Me too. Missed you so much,” you murmur as you stroke his forearm, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Bradley.”

He shushes you dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, threading the fingers of his free hand between yours, “It’s all good, baby. We’re good.”

It’s not long before you’re trying to grind against his hand, eager for more than what he is giving you. He wants to draw this out, wants to tease you a little longer.

“Please.”

“Please, what?” he lightly prompts. 

“Bradley, it’s been so long,” your breath hitches when he switches up his movements of his fingers, “Please.”

“I know, baby. I promise I’ll get you there. But you’ve got to wait a little longer,” he croons in your ear, adding a bit more pressure, “Not going to let you come on my fingers when you’re still on a date with another man.”

You whine as he rubs his mustache along your neck, he feels the shiver that courses through your body. Smiling to himself that he is the one who is making you feel good, not anyone else. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says as he tightens the circles he is rubbing on your clit, “You’re going to tell Collins it isn’t going to work out. Then, we are going straight to the Bronco and you can ride my fingers like you did on our second date. And after you come, I’m going to take you home and show you just how much I’ve missed you.” 

The sweet kisses his is placing on your cheek are in stark contrast to his filthy promises. 

“I already did.”

“Say that again,” he demands, slowing down the movement of his fingers. 

“I already ended it,” you repeat with a whine, as your hips roll against him desperate for the release he is withholding from you.  “Told him I wasn’t over my ex. I just want you, Bradley.” 

The zipper of his jeans is almost painful with how hard he is, but he is too absorbed in the feel of you to bother unzipping himself for a little temporary relief. He’d willingly suffer as long as he got to hear your sweet whimpers and sighs at his hands.

He was yours.

“Did you delete that stupid app?” He didn’t consider himself a possessive man, but you made him greedy for more.

“Been a little busy,” you quip breathlessly, as you reach around to palm him through his jeans.

“I want to watch you delete it as you fuck yourself on my cock,” he grunts into your ear.

“Fuck,” you gasp, “Bradley.” Your hand flies up to the back of his neck, nails biting into the skin there.

You are even wetter now beneath his fingers. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He wanted to hear it.

“I’m yours,” you pant into his neck, licking a stripe up the tendon there, “I’m yours. Now make me come and take me home.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he promises with a grin as he redoubles his efforts against your clit. 

There’s no teasing in the way he precisely works you. 

He remembers the way you like to be touched. He knows how you’ll sigh when he rubs you up and down. How you whimper when he alternates the circular caresses against your hypersensitive skin. The way you clench when he glides rough figure-eights over your clit.

“I’m so close.” You’re trembling in his arms now.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks, switching his attentions to the diagonal strokes that always gets you there quickly.

“Just you,” you plead into the crook of his neck, “Just you.” 

You take the hand that’s been guiding the motions of your hips against his fingers, and settle it over your breast. Whining as he thumbs at your hardened nipple.

“You’ve got me, I’m yours,” he rasps softly.

And then you’re shuddering in his arms you fly apart for him. Body shaking with the aftershocks he pulls from you as he softly teases you with one gentle fingertip, as he coos sweet praise against the shell of your ear.

Bradley removes his hand from your now thoroughly ruined panties, and you spin around to wrap your arms around his neck. He tightens his hold on you as you come down, letting one hand make soothing circles on your lower back.

After you’ve caught your breath, you pull him down for a kiss. Your tongue languidly sliding against his. He’s missed having your lips on his.

“Can’t believe I got you off on my fingers before I got my mouth back on you,” he mutters against your mouth.

“I liked it,” you smile.

“Good,” he says as he helps you to pull your pants up, “Because we’ve still got a date with the Bronco and my bed tonight.”

You kiss his cheek as he redoes the top button for you.

“How do I look?” you ask as you try to fix your hair and straighten out your top.

You look like you’ve been fucked.

The smirk on his face must give away his thoughts, because you’re lightly hitting him on the chest with a shy smile before turning towards the door.

“Wait a second,” he pauses you with a hand to your wrist, “Your bow.”

You glance over your shoulder at him curiously.

The flimsy strings of your backless top hand managed to come undone. He skims a finger down the exposed skin, like he had been dying to all night, before retying it for you.

“There. You’re perfect,” he says ducking down to kiss your shoulder before opening the door for you.

He was hoping that the coast would be clear for when the made their escape, and instead he sees Nat leaning against the wall at the end of the hall looking entirely too smug for her own good.

“You owe me a favor,” she says pointing at him, before turning that finger on you, “And you, owe me brunch. Preferably with bottomless mimosas. Because I just saved both your asses from getting caught by Penny. And now I owe Jake a favor. So, you owe me big time.” She gives you both a knowing look before walking away.

You bury your face in his chest laughing.

“I’ll make us some reservations for next week,” you call out to her retreating figure, and Nat throws a thumbs up into the air not breaking her stride. And then you’re looking up at him, “Come on, let’s go. Don’t want to be late for our reservations in the Bronco.”

He grins down at you feeling lighter than he has in months as he leads you out of the bar tucked away under his arm.

Just where he wants you to be. 

Just where you’re supposed to be.

We’re saying “Yes to the Ex!”

Thanks for reading! 

You can check my other stories here!

Tag List:

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#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

[angeljeonjk97]

Body Work || Bell #4

Jungkook x reader

friends to lovers

18+ (fluff, smut)

warnings: mentions and descriptions of violence, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol

Jeon Jungkook is not the same 19-year-old boy you used to know. Fame has really matured him, in more ways than one.

“You already know how I like it baby”

A knock at the door makes your head shoot up from the ramyeon bowl you were lost in that sat on the small marble island in the middle of your small kitchen.

When you put your left eye up to the peephole, a blonde-haired, slim man and an excited Kiri stood there, beaming a huge smile, waiting for your face to appear from behind the door. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, wondering why two of your best friends are knocking on your door...you glance at the small, silver clock on the wall beside you... 9:24 pm.

You reach for the lock, turning it to open your door to the people who are standing on your doorstep looking like two frantic little, wide-eyed puppies.

"Hey?" you chuckle, confused as your eyebrows remain in the same furrowed expression, "why are you guys here?"

"Are we not allowed to visit our good friend to check on her?" Jimin acts offended.

Before you can respond, the two of them are already pushing their way past you. You sigh in defeat, clicking the door behind you as they both slide off their shoes and strip their coats from around their shoulders.

"You're both obviously not here just to see me" you chuckle, watching them both rush to hang their coats up, "you look like a pair of kids who've just been told they're going to Disneyland"

"Okay okay okay, come sit" Kiri spits out, a smile still plastered on her face, as she grabs your wrist pulling you to your sofa, Jimin following closely behind.

Once all three of you were sitting, Kiri and Jimin both facing you, sitting opposite you, Kiri takes both of your hands into hers. You stare intently at them, your face still in pure confusion.

"Guess who's back in town?" She asks almost too eagerly.

As soon as you heard those words, you already had a feeling where this conversation was about to go and who Kiri is talking about, but you give both of them the benefit of the doubt. They know that you're over that whole... situation, and don't plan on getting sucked back into it again. Your face relaxes a little, hesitant to even ask.

"Who?"

"Namjoon!" Jimin exclaims, unable to keep his excitement in any longer.

Kiri flicks her head around to Jimin, giving him a disapproving expression, not expecting him to be the one to say it.

Your expression practically falls off your face, as your stare flickers between the pair, expressionless.

Kim Namjoon is your older, kind of ex-boyfriend from two years ago. You two were never officially boyfriend and girlfriend but were dating each other and no one else. You weren't ready for a committed relationship at the time and didn't want to jump into something you weren't even sure you wanted yet. He's a lot older than you, 6 years older to be exact, very intelligent, very attractive, successful, understanding, gentle, and basically everything you'd possibly want in a man. 

You met when you had a holiday job at a cafe 15 minutes away from your apartment where you used to work with both Kiri and Jimin, who still have part-time jobs there. He was a regular there, so regular that you remembered his order off by heart in the 2 and a half months you worked there, you still remember the order even now, a medium white latte with almond milk and a warm blueberry croissant every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. 

You thought he was good-looking from the minute he walked through the glass, wooden framed, cafe door wearing a beige trench coat, black suit trousers complimented by dark brown loafers and a white button up that was hardly visible with his coat and thick plaid scarf that wrapped around his neck, and he thought the same for you. 

The attraction to each other became very obvious when you two would start talking at the desk and wouldn't realise you were holding up the line with your very flirty conversations and your co-workers would push you onto the till when they would see him come in. Eventually, on a Friday morning in early December, he asked for your phone number and everything flourished from there. He was perfect, everything you could ask for, but one day after a while of seeing each other, he just left the country, not telling you why or where to, just leaving you with an "I love you" text.

 You cried for weeks after it, even in front of Jungkook a few times, not understanding what went wrong, what you did wrong or why he didn't tell you why he was leaving. He was your first love, even though you never said it to his face, you loved him, and you know that he loved you too. You got over him and the whole thing eventually though, and don't plan on ever seeing him again. Or so you thought 

"Oh." is all you can let out, the name flashing you back into all the memories.

"He came to the cafe this morning, asking for you" Jimin declares, still with those wide ecstatic eyes, as he scans your face to read your emotions, "he misses you,"

You close your eyes, relaxing your shoulders a little, slipping your hands out of Kiri's," No. No. I told you, I'm done with all that"

"I thought you still loved him?" Kiri tilts her head slightly with a worried but confused expression.

"I told you, I'm over it"

"But y/n, he was perfect. It won't hurt to try again" Jimin shrugs, unsure as to what your response will be.

"But it will Jimin, just like last time," you get up off the sofa, about to walk to the kitchen," I'm not gonna be left behind with nothing like last time"

The other two follow closely behind, Kiri's voice projecting from behind you,

"You haven't dated since though, and I think this is a great opportunity"

"yeah you think it's a great opportunity, I don't. I don't want to see him ever again." you throw a cabinet open, pulling out a bottle of wine, along with a glass.

Kiri and Jimin stand in the doorway, looking at each other, regretting bringing him up.

"Is that all you guys came here to do? remind me of him?"

"No of course not, but he gave us his new number," a ripped-off corner of a piece of paper is pulled out of Kiri's pocket and put out in front of your face, "think about it. He misses you, a lot and wants to talk to you"

You sigh in defeat, practically ripping the piece of paper from between Kiri's fingers, seeing a flash of a set of numbers inscribed on it.

'Wow the ripped corner of a notebook really shows how much you care' You think to yourself quickly scanning the scrap piece.

Kiri spreads her arms out to wrap them around your frame, embracing you in a hug, "You don't have to, but think about it"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You play with the scrumpled-up paper in your fingers, observing the numbers written on it, contemplating everything. Lost in your own thoughts, you jump at the sudden thud on the black counter caused by a tattooed hand slamming down in front of you.

You look up, tucking the paper back into your jean pocket, "Jesus Kook. You could've just said hi or something" You smile at him, letting him know you're not being serious.

"You still would've jumped, considering how in your head you just were," Jungkook takes a seat on the stool opposite you. His bare forearms resting on the surface in front of you both, "You alright?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, thinking whether you should tell Jungkook about your kind of ex coming back or not.

It was very obvious Jungkook never liked Namjoon, despite never actually meeting him, even when you were both 'dating'. You know he'll just get annoyed, angry or throw the number away, which is probably the best thing to do but you have been genuinely considering talking to him again, and you need an unbiased opinion. At the same time though, you hate lying to JK or even being a little dishonest with him. It's not how trust is kept between you two, he can also read you really well, meaning you can never really hide your actual feelings about something or someone from him.

"Namjoon's back," You blurt out, exhaustedly, as if you hadn't slept a wink the previous night, well, because you hadn't.

Jungkook just stares at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape," Please don't tell me you're actually thinking about him right now," his head tilts to the side a little, like a puppy, his brow now slightly furrowed.

Your silence and lack of eye contact in return is enough for him to know the answer.

He throws his head back, his crown almost touching his shoulder blades, as he lets out a small groan.

"I know, I know, it's probably not the best thing for me to be thinking about right now, but-"

"No, it just isn't the best thing to be thinking about. No probably, it simply isn't. You can't be seriously thinking about talking to that asshole again after he left you for absolutely no reason." Jungkook cuts you off, a stern look now plastered over his face.

You squeeze your eyes shut in frustration but also regret, knowing that this would be his response, and you should've kept your mouth closed.

"Was that piece of paper something to do with it?"

"What piece of paper?" you reply defensively. You were hoping he didn't notice it or see you fiddling with it previously.

He gives you an expression full of disappointment and knowing, causing you to roll your eyes and give in, "It's his number new number"

"Oh, so he changed his number after leaving too? proves how much he wanted to keep in contact with you," the snarky remark doesn't phase you as you know it's just him trying to make a point to you. You hate that he's right.

"I know but Kiri said he wants to talk about it, I just want closure," you softly admit to him, a slight bit of guilt in your body language, even though you're telling the truth, and aren't actually thinking of seeing Namjoon romantically again, or even talking to him ever again after getting closure.

The doe-eyed man stares at you with a shocked expression before loudly exclaiming, "Kiri? How does Kiri know?"

You realise you fucked up again by mentioning Kiri unintentionally.

"He came by the cafe asking for me" the regret on your face grows continuously, "Please just let me think about this"

Jungkook sighs again in defeat, deciding to just trust you and your word, "Alright but if you meet with him, I'm taking you there and picking you up."

You almost go to argue with him, but know that really he's just doing this for your own safety, and because he cares about you. He knows if it goes wrong and you get upset you'll cry and run back to your place, and not come out for days, so if he's there to see you up afterwards, he knows you won't have to suffer alone. He just wants to be there for you. You know that, even though neither of you have verbally said to each other how much you care about one another, you both know that these little acts are out of care.

"What about your training though?" You query, thinking about his career before he even considered it as an obstacle 

"I'll take a rest day that day," he says it like it's nothing, giving you a little shrug. Like it won't probably take him a week to convince his trainer for a potential extra rest day.

After a few minutes of bickering back and forth, you give into Jungkook's stubbornness and his charms allowing him to come with you if you even meet Namjoon again. 

You truly have been thinking about it too much and don't actually know what you want. You're head knows that seeing him again probably isn't the best for your emotions considering it took you so long to get over him and seeing his dimples when he flashes sweet smiles at you, might just send you into a spiral again, but your emotions are basically screaming at you to get closure, and to just be in his presence again. Even though you've grown slight resentment for him, you can't bring yourself to fully hate him. Afterall, its not like you ended on bad terms, or good terms really. 

I mean getting closure won't hurt you. 

<-prev-index-next->

------------------------------

a/n: A late happy holidays to everyone, but I hope you all had a really good time with whatever you celebrate. I can't wait for what 2024 has in store for us all. CANT WAIT FOR JIN AND HOBI TO BE BACK IN 2024 TOO!!!! Anyways thank you again for reading, I hope you're enjoying the series so far. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter so I hope its received positively

Taglist: @yunki-yunki-yunki @hellbornsworld @tatamicc @idkijustlovebts @00frenchfries00 @yoonbicoolest @junecat18

#bts #bts jungkook #fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x female reader #jjk smut #smut #bts smut #angst #jungkook angst #fluff #jjk #jungkook fluff #boxing #friends to lovers #jungkook smut #jimin #namjoon #bangtan

[poisonous-honey]

Nahida’s Precious Tailor

The little lord of Sumeru calls upon your aid as she wishes for a wardrobe change.

Who’s Here: Reader/Player, Nahida, Wanderer, Kaveh, and Alhaitham makes a short appearance

Contains: Cursing, SAGAU (Self Aware Genshin Alternate Universe), Artist/Tailor Reader, Reader isn’t explicitly shipped with anyone so you can make do however you wish

Note: Inspired by @sunnysolaria. Not their exact ask, I just had fun making this (～￣▽￣)～ (i.e. this basically word vomit)

====

Time ticks by as you and Nahida sit in the middle of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. You can vaguely hear the sounds of children singing softly in the background which makes it a bit more eerie to be here, but you push it away to try and focus on the task asked of you. Nahida looks on in wonder as you continue to ponder, not noticing you’ve started to mumble out loud. 

“I knew you liked to waste your own time, but I thought you’d at least be decent enough to spare others from your terrible habits.”

Hearing Wanderer you’re snapped out of your thoughts and turn your eyes away from Nahida to see him arrive. Your mind, still a jumbled mess, can barely recall what he said to make a proper retort. You assume he insulted you so you open your mouth hoping to say any form of comeback.

“Sup.” 

Of course, you didn’t. 

Nahida quickly spreads her arms wide taking Wanderer’s scrutinizing eyes off your form, allowing you to collect your thoughts better.

“I’ve asked them to be my tailor! They’re helping me think of outfit designs! Some of the ones they’ve already thought of have been fascinating!”

You blank for a sec upon hearing that. You’re happy she liked some of the designs you thought of, but you forgot she could read your mind at all. Trying to shake the thought that she could read your mind whenever she pleases, you turn to Wanderer to shoo him away.

“Yeah I’m actually here for important business, so if you could skedaddle somewhere else for a bit that’d be great.”

He ignores you and keeps his attention focused on Nahida, which has you silently cursing under your breath.

“Why do you even need new clothes? Let alone asking the Player to design and make them for you. Their sense of fashion is atrocious.”

You gasp and put your hand to your chest. You’re about to tell him your clothes were for sure more comfortable than anything he could be wearing, but Nahida cuts you off.

“Before the Player landed in Teyvat, they would sometimes bring up pictures of everyone with different clothes. Some people looked completely different from how they are now.”

Your brow raises as you cock your head. You didn’t think they could see anything outside the game when you were playing. They were too good at hiding everything they were able to do to your device. Or maybe it was just Nahida, that would be better for your peace of mind.

“Oh, so you saw your beta designs? Is that why you asked me specifically?”

Nahida nods her head, “Partly. It’s why I wanted to try something different, but I haven’t actually seen my own alternative designs. I can’t say I’m not still curious to see them.”

Your eyes brighten just a little. “I can still show you if you want me too! It’s all saved to a photo album on my phone. I’d just have to find it.”

She leans in closer to you with curiosity and marvel on her face. You take that as a yes and take-out your phone to start looking for it. During the time it takes you to find the set of pictures Wanderer ends up sitting next to you and staring at all the pictures you pass by. As soon as you find Nahida’s beta designs and hand her your phone, Wanderer starts to come at you.

“Wow, someone’s obsessed.”

Your head whips to his direction, and you look at him with a mix of disdain and embarrassment. The sadistic pleasure is very visible on his face as he continues.

“Over 2000 pictures dedicated to us? And a lot of them seem to be of the same person. I wonder what they’d think if they knew you had sections dedicated to them in your photo gallery.”

Shame shimmers underneath your skin the more he talks. You’re glad he only saw the folder number. You stopped organizing your pictures in folders a long time ago so you can’t imagine how much you have now. If he knew the actual number you’d probably die on the spot. Even so, you don’t want to take shit from this fucking edgelord.

“Oh shut the fuck up! I didn’t know any of you were even real at the time I just liked the game okay.”

He arches his brow and rests his head on his hand, still carrying that shit-eating grin, “The fact you thought we weren’t even sentient just makes this more pathetic.”

Wanderer soon brings up the pictures he saw of himself on your phone which has you combusting on the spot. Nahida continues to stare at her beta designs, ignoring the “argument” going on between you two. She examines them for a bit longer before tapping your shoulder to get your attention and holds out your phone for you to take back.

You quickly take it and hide the source of your shame, giving Wanderer the middle finger while you're at it. You focus as much on Nahida as you can, with him laughing in the background. 

“Did you like any of them?”

Nahida stares at you intently for a moment before saying anything. “Player, would you have preferred it if I looked like one of these designs?”

You’re stunned for a sec before panic quickly sets in. Of course, she was probably reading your mind to see what you thought of them. You thought they were all pretty interesting, but you didn’t want her thinking you thought they were superior. You vaguely hear Wanderer tease you for managing to upset such a forgiving god and Nahida saying that she wasn’t upset, just asking, but it’s in one ear and out the other amidst your frantic state.

“Oh! No, no, no, no, no, no Nahida you got the wrong idea!” You take your phone back out before gesturing to the whole page of beta designs. “Yeah I think these designs are cool, some more than others but that’s beside the point! I like you Nahida even if your dress looks like a shuttlecock-”

“What are you even saying-”

“Stop focusing on the unimportant Wanderer.”

He scoffs at you and rolls his eyes.

“But you’re you. For a lot of these I think they had a different vision of you in mind when drawing these.”

Nahida puts her hands on yours and only then did you realize how much you were fidgeting. She smiles warmly at you, “There’s no need to be so nervous. I was just asking!”

You deflate in relief, “Thank goodness. I guess back to my last question then… Did you like any of them? If you thought one of them was pretty good I could make that for you?”

She thinks on it for a moment and ultimately shakes her head, “I did like a couple, but I’d rather you make me something new! There’s a reason these weren’t chosen, and you said it yourself they don’t make you think of me. I know you put your heart into the clothes you make, so a design made by you, for me, is perfect.”

You smile at her. Her faith in you to make something good for her fills you with pride.

“I’ll do my best for you.”

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Wanderer opening his mouth, probably to talk more shit, so before he can say anything you make a show of stretching and square him straight in his face. He roughly grabs your hand and pushes it away from him, staring at you with the fiercest scowl you’ve seen from him. You merely smirk in his direction.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I forgot you were there. I was just trying to stretch, no hard feelings yeah?”

You put your phone away again and get up to leave, waving goodbye to Nahida and ignoring Wanderer’s pointed gaze as you walk towards the door. Nahida cheerfully waves back and Wanderer silently seethes in his place. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐

On your way down to the ground floor of the city you continue to brainstorm multiple ideas to potentially make for Nahida. Dresses, regal robes, bejewelled shirts, and big pants. Should you try to lean into her godhood? Maybe go for a nature theme or add more computer-Esq patterns into the design. Should you give the poor girl shoes? You’re so deep in thought you don’t realize how close you had gotten to the edge of the pathway. A stray tree branch catches your foot, and you trip, snapping out of your mind to see houses and merchant stalls.

Luckily before you could plummet onto some poor person’s roof you’re caught by your arm and roughly pulled away from the ledge and into someone’s chest. You both fall to the ground and a small group of students that witnessed your mishap crowded around you.

“Oh my Archons, are you two okay?” “Do you need any help?” “Can we get you anything?”

“I’m fine thank you, but Player, are you okay?”

“Kaveh!?”

You get up and turn around to see it was indeed Kaveh that had saved you from cracking your head open on one of the rooftops below. He’s helped up by one of the others, and he stares at you intently.

“Yes it’s me, but seriously are you okay?”

You hear some of the others murmuring questions, mostly asking if you’re okay. “Yeah I’m fine. Thank you, really.”

You, of course, take this moment to hug him which Kaveh immediately reciprocates. “Gods you need to be more careful. You nearly scared me half to death.”

He peels himself away from you when he notices the others are still worried about you. The few students around ask if you’re sure you’re okay and fawn over you a little before leaving you in Kaveh’s care. As you’re waving bye you feel Kaveh’s hand rest on your shoulder which has you turn to look at him, his gaze still filled with concern.

“Are you sure you-”

“Yes Kaveh. You saved me, I’m fine.”

You grab his hand and hold it in front of you. It looked like he wanted to say a lot more, but he eventually settled and gazed at you softly, tightening his grip on your hand just a bit. “I’m glad. So what’s weighing so heavily on your mind that you can’t look up to notice your surroundings?”

You fidget under his stare for a second, not being able to remember until you see Wanderer flying off somewhere in the distance. It feels like you were hit with a brick as you remember the important task that was given to you. As you turn back to Kaveh to explain, you stop to look at what he’s wearing. It’s his normal outfit, but taking it all in you realize you don’t know what makes Sumeru wear… Sumeru wear. You’re pulled into your thoughts again and about to walk off before Kaveh pulls you back a little, clearly confused.

“Hold on, where are you going??”

Oh yeah, you had forgotten he asked you a question. “Nahida asked me if I could design new clothes for her. I was thinking of ideas earlier, but now I see all of them were lacking. None of them really looked like Sumeru clothes so now I need to do research since,” You look over Kaveh’s outfit again and take a glance at the people around you, “I don’t even know where to start.”

His brows furrow, and his hand moves to his chin. You want to chuckle seeing him do the thinking idle animation, but you don’t want him to start overthinking his existence again over something so trivial. Suddenly, Kaveh grabs you by your shoulders and his face ends up really close to yours.

“I can help you! If you want me to, that is.”

You stare at Kaveh in slight surprise. You guess you should've known he’d want to help with your artistic endeavours.

“You know how to make clothes?”

He falters a bit, but is still as enthusiastic as before, “Well no, but I do know a thing or two about style. I learned more than just how to make a building during my time at the Academia you know.”

He playfully pokes your forehead, and you swat his hand away with a smile. “Yeah I wasn’t thinking. I’d definitely appreciate your help.”

“Perfect! We can start by heading to the Grand Bazaar. Oh, but first I have to drop off my materials. I was on my way to do that before I had to drop everything to keep you from falling.”

You look past him to see a ton of blueprints and rulers and a ton of other materials. Making your way over you start to pick everything up for him, Kaveh soon following suit. You hear him mumbling, hoping nothing broke in his rush. Guilt creeps up your spine seeing him fret over every item he picks up.

“... Sorry.”

His head snaps to your direction hearing you apologize and quickly tries to calm any guilt you currently feel. “Please it’s okay, besides it doesn’t seem like anything’s broken. If you still want to make it up to me then try taking better care of yourself.”

You huff and continue to help him collect his things off the floor. “That’s a tall ask, but I’ll try for you.”

“You better.”

You finish gathering all of Kaveh’s materials and help him carry them on the way to Alhaitham’s despite all his protests saying he could do it himself.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

“What are you doing here??”

“This is my house, or did you forget?”

You honestly weren’t expecting to see Alhaitham today. You were pretty sure you caught sight of him in the Academia on your way to the Sanctuary or Surasthana so you assumed he was working. Judging by Kaveh’s reaction, you guess that’s what he was supposed to be doing.

Kaveh scoffs, “Never mind. Player, can you hand me the rest of my things? You can wait here while I put them all away.”

Kaveh carefully brings his materials over to his room, and you decide to sit next to Alhaitham as you wait for him to put them away. He’s currently reading something you have no hope of ever understanding. You’re content to sit here in silence as you wait not wanting to bother him, when he starts talking, not even taking his eyes off the book he’s reading.

“You nearly had quite the fall earlier. You’re quite lucky Kaveh was able to catch you in time.”

It takes you a bit to register what he was referring to, but when it settles you gawk at him, barely believing what he’s insinuating.

“Wait, so you saw me nearly fall to my death, and didn’t even bother to check up on me??”

He closes his book with a snap and turns to look at you. Moments like this make you wish you were able to read him, his passive face making it near impossible to tell what he was thinking. You watch as he reaches for something behind him and pulls out a small heart-shaped gold and green box with a soft glow. He hands it to you without saying a word.

You take it and inspect it for a while, not being able to figure out what it is. You don’t see any clasps or hinges to be able to open it so you’re filled with nothing but questions.

“What’s this for?”

“Consider it my apology for not checking up on you earlier. Open it later.”

You huff and nod your head. Realizing you're probably not going to get anymore out of him you change the topic, talking to him about whatever you feel like as you wait for Kaveh. You’re in the middle of explaining the task Nahida gave you and the research you’re about to do when Kaveh finally steps out of his room.

“Everything's put away, we can head off now!”

You get up excited and skip to the front door, not realizing Alhaitham getting up as well. Kaveh does though and swiftly starts to question him. 

“Where are you going? Back to work I’d hope.”

That has you turning around right before the door.

“I have some things I need to acquire at the Bazaar. Since you’re also going I thought to simply come along.”

You smile, you appreciate the thought, but feel Kaveh won’t in the slightest.

“Oh no you’re not coming with us! Knowing you, you’d try to but in with your own ‘advice’ when you don’t even understand the first thing about art. The clothes our Player is designing are for Lord Kusanali. Any help that you could provide would only serve to make the design a disaster.”

Your face falls as Kaveh starts an argument with Alhaitham, exactly what you expected. You debate dragging him away, but decide against it, saying you’ll wait for him outside. The only sign that he heard you is the slight turn of his head before you step outside yourself.

As you exit you look at the heart-shaped box Alhaitham gave you. You’re far too impatient to wait until you get home to see what’s inside, but you don’t know how to open it. You fiddle with it for a while when you hear the door open and close. Turning around you see Kaveh step outside and shove the box in his direction. 

“Huh? What’s this?”

“Alhaitham gave this to me, but I have no idea how to open it. Can you maybe, help me?”

He complains under his breath hearing Alhaitham’s name, but does take it from you to inspect it. Barely any time passes when he realizes what it is and presses on the jewel in the centre of the box. You flinch as wings suddenly pop out from its sides. Kaveh hands it back to you, and you stare at it with glee. He gave you a Sumeru styled glider.

“What a coincidence.”

You roll your eyes and try pressing the jewel to get the wings to retract, which it does, and tell Kaveh to shush. 

“Give him the benefit of the doubt just this once. I’ll have to thank him later. Anyway, what was the plan again?”

A smile finally forms on his face, and he goes over the plan he concocted “Yes! First we’ll stop by the Grand Bazaar, the Zubayr Theatre will have plenty of costumes that we can look at. I also know a few market stalls that sell fabric-”

You listen to him go on for a while when your eyes start to wander, and it’s when your eyes land on someone rummaging through their clothes looking for something you remember Kaveh’s and Alhaitham’s shared idle animation. He had them earlier, but just to make sure you decide to ask anyway.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you have your keys right Kaveh?

Kaveh stops and turns to you. You see his face contort multiple times, like he’s struggling to decide whether he should feel offended or not, before sighing.

“Of course I do, they're right… Uhh.”

You cross your arms and stare at him with as much disappointment you could muster. You watch as his face turns red as he continues patting himself down. Soon he gives up and slumps.

“... I think I left them with all of my things.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How did you even-”

“I have no idea. Give me a sec I’ll go get them.”

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Nahida twirls around in front of a mirror much larger than her, looking at the clothing you made for her from all angles. Her green mantelet swirls around her, the edge covered in padisarah designs and her bell chiming with every movement. The coat underneath a darker shade filled with swirls and flowing behind her legs. The necklace you gave her thumping against the sleeveless white shirt. In case she wanted some type of sleeves you also made white add-on sleeves with golden cufflets. Where the shirt ends, beads were placed to separate the blue and purple scarf around her waist. It had pale yellow ruffles that flowed over her pants. The pants are fairly puffy, also white and stop right above her ankles. You also decided to make her shoes, white and the same green as her mantelet with gold accents and adorned with green jewels at their tips. 

You fidget in your place behind her and mindlessly twiddle your thumbs. She hasn’t said anything yet, and it was starting to get to you. You spent a long time looking over clothes and books with Kaveh to try and understand Sumeru design, but even after all the studying you were still nervous presenting it to her. You’re at least thankful Wanderer hasn’t said anything to spite you yet.

Not wanting to be stuck in suspense any longer you just decide to ask her directly. “So Nahida… Do you like it? ‘Cause if you don’t I can make something else-”

“No I love it!” She turns and lets you see the massive smile on her face, her arms still spread wide. “I especially like the scarf. I’m not exactly sure why, but it reminds me of something I lost. I appreciate it, thank you!”

You breathe a sigh of relief. The scarf is what you were most worried about since it didn’t match the rest of the colour scheme. Especially since Kaveh had quite a bit to say about it, but you felt it to be integral. 

She then turns her attention to Wanderer, who still hasn’t said anything yet. “What do you think?”

He stares at her outfit for a moment, looking her up and down, before sighing and reluctantly giving his own opinion, “It’s… Alright.”

You elbow him in the arm for that which he barely even reacts to. “Oh come on, surely you have more to say than that.”

His brow twitches, “It’s amazing you managed to make anything presentable.”

You scoff and back away from him, “Never mind I don’t want your opinion anymore.”

Nahida claps her hands and grabs both of your attention, “I’m glad you like it too! Maybe our player can design you some new clothes as well!” 

“As if.” “Fat chance.”

You both end up dismissing the idea at the same time. The thought of working as hard as you did for Nahida on someone like Wanderer makes you want to die. He probably wouldn’t even try it on.

You then remember Kaveh wanted you to tell him everything after once you finished up here. Knowing him he’s been letting this eat away at his thoughts, so you should probably head off now.

You relay this to both of them, Nahida nods in understanding before waving cheerfully and Wanderer just walks off, causing you to roll your eyes. You wave back to Nahida and as you turn around you suddenly trip and fall face-first into the floor.

“Oh, sorry. I was just trying to stretch, you got in my way.”

Looking up you see Wanderer, dead faced as usual, but you can see the mirth in his eyes. Kaveh is instantly forgotten as you feel rage fill you and bubble under your skin. He starts to walk towards the exit, and you hop up to follow him, yelling and cussing him out as you try to catch up. Nahida watches on with a small smile, clutching the scarf in her hands.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 

Thanks for reading! 

Here’s the sketch I made to try and better describe her clothing. I’m terrible at describing clothing and wish I could just beam the perfect descriptors onto the page lmao.

I’m not exactly happy with the colour scheme (The cloak/mantelet reminds me too much of Collei’s), but this was the first time I’ve designed anything more complicated than a sweater and hoodie lol. I’m still proud I managed to come up with anything. As to why I gave importance to the scarf, it’s ‘cause I tried to make it look like a Rukkhashava Mushroom. 

“A fungus that grows in layers upon layers, like a sea of clouds, and which mostly grows on trees deep in the rainforest. Therefore, they are considered by the people of Sumeru to be the holy crystallization of Rukkhadevata's legacy. In Sumeru, those who dwell in the forest have a tradition of offering Rukkhashava Mushrooms to the Akademiya, but no one knows what these offerings are meant to be used for. Word has it that the Akademiya always performs a secret annual ritual at the Sanctuary of Surasthana, during which the sages will consume these mushrooms to commemorate Lord Rukkhadevata's sacrifice.”

And here’s her beta designs from Hoyo if you’re interested

#Genshin x reader #Sagau #Self Aware Genshin #Kaveh x Reader #Wanderer x Reader #Nahida & Reader #X Reader #Reader Insert #I could barely read this over when I finished so if there’s any spelling mistakes please don’t tell me #This is all over the place #but I had fun #Also I realized when writing this I love people arguing and bantering #Being able to argue with others with no real malice behind it or any hard feelings is peak relationship to me #Pois.Writes #Pois.Posts

[gurugirl]

hear me out, i have an idea for a fic but i always think i will be judged for it but i think you wont

basically reaaaaaaaally rich harry is married and he loves his wife but they are extremely incompatible sexually because he has huge sex drive, loves trying new things, is very dom looooooves doing a girl's ass and marking her up and choking, using ropes and all that shit. and his wife very meh with ir comes to sex

so she suggests he finds someone to do all these sexual stuff he needs and he is hesitand at first because he loves her but he ends up agreeing, so maybe she suggests some assistant from her company or he finds her on a datting app because his wife doesnt want to know who she is so he ends up finding cute uni student yn who becomes his suggar baby and checks all his boxes with being subby, having the same kinks and is basically horny 24/7

at first they set for meeting at a hotels but after a while gets tired of it after bumping on someone he knows and having to make up an excuse on why he was there, and he hates her flatmates and how they stare after he goes there for a fuck. so he ends up moving her to this london penthouse or house he owns because he is an achtecht or owns a luxury real estate firm. and the condition and that she always has to wear only lingerie or be naked around the house so he can come get what he wants and them leave for his wife (even when she is asleep they have an aggrement that he can start fucking her without waking her up)

but anyways he is not completely emmotionless and he does have a soft spot or her but he loves his wife

but at some point they end up getting divorce because she doesnt want kids or found someone else or something so its finally yns turn

okay anon who requested this.... i've been writing and this one shot is being worked on very seriously. i've gotten about 5k words down and it's taking shape nicely. I don't know if I'll be able to get it out next week but expect something soon. I've taken some liberties and made it a little different than your exact request but the most important elements are still there and I have a feeling you'll like it.

I know this request has been sitting for quite a long time but I'm on it now (slowly getting through all of my requests as i have A LOT of them).

Just wanted you to know I'm working on it and to expect something coming soon. LINK TO PART 1

#ask #request #coming soon

[honeesucker]

Haunted by a Shadow

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Reader x Dabi

Word Count: 12,976

Content Warnings: Dead Dove (do not eat)! Kidnapping, Non-Con, Dabi burns reader, Unhinged Brother™ Touya, sexual torture, vaginal and anal penetration / double-penetration (body & objects), drug use (on reader), mentions of blood, use of phone for sexual photos/video, (to be safe) mentions of incest (Dabi calls you ‘basically family’, refers to himself as ‘brother’ and you as ‘little sister’), reader peeing on themself, reader has to ingest a non-edible item, no happy ending.

*Not proofread.

Shoto couldn’t stop glancing over at you as the snowflakes danced down from the darkening sky and landed on your hair, your jacket, your face. He wanted to kiss away the little cold specks but knew better than to be so bold, so quickly. His whole body buzzed with new feelings, never having really thought about romantic connections beyond what he’s observed in others, it was just never something he considered for himself even after graduating from UA where more and more of his friends began to seek out partners. 

You, however, caught his attention by literally running into him at Endeavor’s agency. It happened just outside of the cafeteria where a gorgeous courtyard was centered, flowers, trees and shrubbery hiding various benches and picnic tables for staff to take a break from the office out in a natural space away from the harsh lighting and non-stop buzz of agency work. You had been wearing a comfortably loose silken black dress that was cinched in at the waist, and for a moment you glanced down at your phone the exact second Shoto had turned the corner around a column in the courtyard causing you to drop your phone, spill hot coffee between the both of you, and trip in the excitement landing atop the Pro Hero heir. Your eyes had widened as large as the moon, bright and shiny, panicked, Shoto had noted; but he fell for you all the same in that instant, assured you that it was only an accident and that he insisted on taking you out shopping to replace the dress.

That was three weeks ago, and now you were walking home with him to meet his siblings and have dinner. The sun had almost fully set behind the horizon and the gentle fall of snow was all that surrounded you and you walked nearly hand-in-hand with Shoto, your fingers grazing each other little by little as your hands swung closely. He was soon ripped from his thoughts by your hand, warm and soft, clasping his. His cheeks instantly heated up, tips of his ears burning hot beneath his knitted cap as he turned away from you quickly, coughing into his other hand as you swung your hands between the both of you.

“This is so nice, Sho!” You mused aloud, watching with twinkling eyes the snow falling around the neighborhood, the light from the moon and the streetlamps shimmering back as you glanced at him with a huge smile on your face.

Shoto hadn’t explicitly asked you to be his girlfriend yet, though any who watched you two over the past few weeks would definitely say you were already together in all ways but the label. Shoto had a plan to ask you tonight but the way his body buzzed and bounced with anxiety he wasn’t sure he’d have the courage just yet, but he resolved to do his best to end this night with you officially together. He couldn’t wait - he had asked Fuyumi to make whatever she deemed best for dinner though he did mention you didn’t particularly like seafood of any sort. When you both finally turned the corner, still hand-in-hand, you were taken aback by the large, traditional style house you saw.

“Wow,” you breathed out, “Shoto your house is amazing!” Shoto’s chest puffed up with pride that you were praising anything related to him. Though he’d rather not be under the same roof as his father - he was still happy to share space with his brother and sister. 

“Thank you,” Shoto finally said, leading you up the stone pathway to his front door. You both took off your shoes, coats and hats while you stepped inside the genkan. Sitting down on a bench briefly to unlace your boots, Shoto opened a small cabinet and produce a new-looking pair of grey slippers for you. You smiled as you thanked him, slipping into the house slippers and following behind him as he led you deeper into his home. Soon enough the smell of delicious food hit your nose, and you couldn’t stop your mouth from instantly salivating. Shoto and you turned a corner that led to an open room with the similarly traditional look of the rest of the house - tatami mats, and shoji doors with a sleek, slate gray interior and minimal decorating; mostly just a couple of family portraits, some flowers in a vase and some old looking traditional art pieces. In the center of the room there was a long chabudai table with cushions for seating, namely, to fit the large family he was a part of, but he had assured you it would only be you and his siblings tonight. Your anxiety had lessened knowing you wouldn’t be subject to Endeavor’s hard gaze, or even more blunt line of questioning. The table was already set with dishes, a couple bottles of sake, as well as glasses, chopsticks and spoons. Shoto had directed you to sit down and get comfortable and he would check in on his sister in the kitchen. 

“Wow,” you had whispered out in a long breath, taking in the room around you. You wondered what it was like growing up here for Shoto - though you had an idea of some of what he endured. You swallowed hard, remembering the broadcast made by the estranged Todoroki brother, the eldest - Touya. He had laid out the abuse and neglect he faced at the hands of Endeavor, and while the word of a villain couldn’t always be trusted - Shoto had given you more of a look into his life that made the knot in your throat only grow bigger. 

Your brief train of thought was interrupted soon by Shoto reentering the room with a tray of two rice bowls, placing one on each side of the table, followed by some smaller side dishes of various pickled vegetables, katsudon and various tempura vegetables. Soon Fuyumi was fussing over you, getting you a glass of water to start and helping to serve you as Shoto sat down next to you, and soon Shoto’s older brother Natsuo entered as well, following his nose to the table and awaiting food.

The introduction felt easy, eating and drinking (Natsuo opened the sake first and poured the round for everyone) became more and more comfortable as the night progressed and soon you were laughing and leaning on Shoto as he mindlessly picked up tempura vegetables and fed you between you telling stories and listening to Natsuo’s bad jokes. Shoto could see from the corner of his eyes how Fuyumi was watching the two of you, the fondest smile on her face as she gave an almost unnoticeable nod to Shoto. Shoto was on cloud nine, never imagining the night to end up this good, but then again things had always come easy between you two.

Soon enough Natsuo retreated back to his room, Fuyumi insisted the cleaning be left to her and she hurried you and Shoto out of the dining room, and Shoto grew bolder as he took you by the hand and led you outside to go for a walk. He even wrapped you up in his own coat, which you took happily, bringing it up to your face to blow warm air in, and snuggle into the familiar, clean scent you’ve come to love. After walking for a bit, you and Shoto stopped in the center of a beautiful garden lit up by twinkling fairy lights, small like little fireflies as he led you to a bench seated just beneath a Sakura tree, and nearest to an expansive koi pond whose bridge you walked over to reach where you were now seated. 

“[Name]...” Shoto’s voice suddenly breaking the silence of the moment shook you out of your thoughts as you glanced over at the man you’ve come to adore. Admiring the way his eyes seemed to always look like they were seeing into you rather than just seeing you on the outside.

“Yes, Sho?” You managed out, tongue heavy with your sudden nerves.

“I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now but,” Shoto started, almost backing out but he resigned himself to this moment, no matter how it turned out. “I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially, if you want to of course - you can absolutely say n-” Shoto’s rambling was cut off by you. More accurately, your lips silence his rambling as they pressed against his. They were softer than you imagined, cold to the touch in the chilly night air but soon the warmth took over as he deepened the kiss with you. “W-was that a yes or-” You planted another quick, silencing kiss on Shoto and his sweetly oblivious nature as you laughed.

“Yes, Shoto - I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.” He pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he nestled your head beneath his chin. His cheeks were heating up as a furious blush overtook his face, and he bit his lip to keep from screaming out. 

You were his. Finally!

Unfortunately for you both, an uninvited guest was overlooking the sweet moment shared between Shoto and you, and it was only going to get worse from there.

Dabi was feeling - well, how was he feeling? This emotion in his chest wasn’t new to him but he couldn’t quite place it. He almost couldn’t remember when he last felt it until it all hit him at once as he watched Shoto kissing you.

Jealousy.

Bearing witness as Shoto stumbled over what must be his first romantic confession, sweetly asking you to be his girlfriend, and you saying yes. He didn’t know why this set off an angry black fire within his body, but it did, and it was burning its way down to his palms where sparks of blue were already starting. Dabi clenched his fists, extinguishing his quirk as quickly as it sparked up. He needed to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Burning you and Shoto up in a quick blaze just wouldn’t give him the satisfaction he was looking for, not even close - but as he waited, watched as you and Shoto shared a goodbye; watched as Shoto insisted on walking you home but you told him you’d be fine and for him to stay... Dabi could swear he was receiving divine karma for his old man’s transgressions, his mind running a mile a minute with the possibilities of what he could do surfacing to his mind as the perfect opportunity he couldn’t have ever anticipated showed up right in front of him in the form of you walking away from his childhood home alone.

Dabi couldn’t help the way his tongue darted out at the sight of you calmly walking down the sidewalk away from him - couldn’t help imagining just how perfect this night was going to be once he got his hands on you.

The walk back to your apartment took about an hour. You had considered taking the bus, but your body was full of too much adrenaline to actually calm down. Heart was fully, and fluttering with the renewed feelings for Shoto, and how sweetly the night with him went - you really couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Well, maybe a better sense of self-preservation. 

Dabi couldn’t help but feel amused at your blissful march back to your apartment with no sense of caution, no thought that anyone would be watching you, following you... but he was. He was watching you as you walked the familiar streets of downtown Musutafu. Watched as you passed dark alley after dark alley, so many easy places he could slip in to and snatch you up to drag you back to the building he was currently staying in - and then... and then? Well, his imagination was running wild at all of the possibilities. His chest was still burning with the jealousy of seeing his younger brother - the golden child of his family - being happy and getting to experience things he never had a chance to; even worse he was attempting to live normally even after his streaming confession across all of Japan? Fuck that. He wanted to ruin that for Shoto, so that meant ruining you and all that you symbolized. It wasn’t ten more minutes when you finally jogged up the steps of a nice-looking apartment building, nothing so fancy you had a doorman or real security but definitely not the slums. He watched from further back through the glass front doors as you checked your mail, grabbing a few envelopes from the slot before locking it back up and making your way toward the elevator. That’s when Dabi decided to enter your building, and watched the numbers count up and up until it landed on the twelfth floor. He walked back outside and stood across the street, watching with bated breath as he waited for one of the many dark windows to light up on the twelfth floor. He didn’t have to wait long as he saw the third from the far right light up - easy enough. 

You locked the door behind you as you entered your apartment and switched on your lights, setting your keys and purse down and taking off your coat and shoes before slipping into your own house slippers, cheeks burning up at the memory of how Shoto got your own pair at his house now, too. You walked further into your apartment, turning on your electric kettle to make some tea before bed, and leaving it to heat up as you freshened up for the night - shower, nighttime skincare, and comfy sleep clothes - a ratty old All Might tank and soft, cheeky sleep shorts. You heard the alarm beeping that alerted you to your hot water being done, and when you rounded the corner out of your room looking out into your living room and kitchen your blood ran cold as your feet froze to the floor where you stood, one hand gripping the threshold tightly.

Someone was stood in your kitchen, having just pressed the kettle power button. The steam was spilling out of the top as the hissing whistle sound died down, the person still with their back to you but you noticed they were quite tall with a black hood pulled down over their face as they looked over their shoulder at where you stood, watching, waiting.

“W-Who are you,” you questioned quietly before swallowing your nerves and straightening up, “who are you and what are you doing in my apartment? Get the fuck out no-” your voice fell away as the figure turned fully, pulling their hood down with one hand as a wide, horrific smile appeared on the familiar face.

“Awe, c’mon little sister! That isn’t a way to greet your boyfriend's older brother now, is it?” Dabi... or Touya... Dabi stood in your kitchen’s white light. Hood pulled down to reveal the dyed black hair, and terrifying glacial eyes as they took you in, up and down your body until it made you feel sick, when they traveled up to meet your gaze again, smile stretching the scarred skin wide in such an unnatural way. 

Ping!

You had promised Shoto that you would text him when you got back to your apartment safely, you had meant to do so when you sat down with your tea after you cleaned up, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen now. Your fingers itched with the urge to run for your phone - if you could get a call started to Shoto you know he would respond faster than the police could, but with Dabi watching you like a cat with a cornered mouse you weren’t so sure it was the smartest move to make currently. 

Ping!

Another text, that confirmed for you that it was Shoto checking in on you - no one else would be texting you this late. Dabi’s smile grew wide as he watched your thoughts race through your head, watched as you instinctively leaned toward the sound of your phone, watched as your fingers gripped and released the threshold still holding you up as your panicked eyes darted around your apartment.

“Now doll, I don’t have all day,” Dabi finally broke the long silence, taking a couple of steps forward that had your hand releasing the doorway and stumbling back against the wall behind you. 

“Dabi,” your voice was as threatening as you could make it - which wasn’t much in the face of a notoriously dangerous villain. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“Don’t be like that,” Dabi took two more steps toward you, “no need for formalities, you know my name, don’t you? With the way little Shoto looks at you I’d say we’re on the quick path to being in-laws hm? Call me Touya.” It was at that moment a third text came in, rattling away as your phone vibrated in your purse atop the small table in your entryway. Dabi had turned his attention away from you for a second that gave you enough bravery to bolt for your room. To find and grab anything that could be a weapon, to get your door shut and locked, to jump out your window... anything.

The second your body moved, you scrambled like a rabbit swift and strong as you tried to push your door completely shut but Dabi was right behind you, wedging his boot to stop it from closing completely. When that failed you scrambled to your dresser where various objects were, but none seemed sturdy enough to take him out. It was in one of the moments your hands were scrambling for anything to turn around and hit him across the head with, that he grabbed you, pulling your arms behind your back and slamming you forward onto your bed. You struggled against his grip as he pressed his front almost completely onto you, lowering his weight to pin you down further. “K-Keep struggling,” he ground out, huffing as you continued to wiggle and try to free yourself from him, “it gives me a fucking hard on feeling you struggle like this.”

Everything stopped.

Your struggling, your screaming, all fight drained out of you at that revelation. 

“Get the fuck off of me, Dabi,” you growled out, shifting your body to try and wiggle free again. “Shoto is going to come looking for me when I don’t answer his texts!” 

“Oh,” Dabi was laughing now, the deep chuckle reverberating against your back. “I’m counting on that.”

You felt a sharp prick into your neck as the world around you blurred and blackened, whatever was in that needle sending you into a syrupy sleep as if your blood and the air you were breathing in thickened to suffocate you.

You woke up in more pain than you’ve ever experienced before in your life. Your head was pounding, your abdomen was in indescribable pain, and it hurt to move your body even an inch. Tears burned your eyes as you tried to open them, blinking away the sleep trying to get your vision to focus.

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake,” a familiar voice came from the darkness, startling you until a bright, blinding light was turned on. Your eyes shut again at the bright assault. “Sorry for the inhospitality so far, I couldn’t control myself earlier and took some frustration out on you while you slept.” Dabi was looking over at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, mimicking kicks as his heavy boots scuffed the ground and thudded against the wall. You never had any broken bones before, but this surely had to be what a broken rib felt like. “Wish I had pain killers to spare but the few I get my hands on, I need for myself,” Dabi stepped closer to you bound on the floor of a simple-looking room before rearing his right foot back to bring another harsh kick to your stomach; you cried out, fresh tears spilling from your eyes as the burning spread out from the point of impact. 

“P-please,” you managed out between choked gasps of air, “please stop, Dabi.”

“Didn’t I already tell you, doll?” 

Kick. 

“We’re practically family now!” 

Kick. 

“Call me Touya.” 

Kick.

“Tou-Touya please,” you pleaded with the villain again. “Please stop. Tell me what you want, what I can do, I can help yo-” another kick hitting your shoulder this time with a sickening impact.

“What I want,” Dabi mused, his deep voice trailing off as he circled around you like a vulture to a carcass. “What I want is to hurt Endeavor, which can be achieved by hurting Shoto... which is achieved through hurting you. I want to take away everything I never got the chance to have, from him, and keep it for myself,” Dabi was kneeling now, scarred hand reaching down to push some of your hair from your bloodied face, pieces sticking to your skin from where the blood dried. “And you can help me by being a good little slut for your new brother,” Dabi lifted up your limp body from the floor to bring you over to a worn-out mattress, stained with Gods-know-what and a few rusted-looking springs poking out in places as you cried and tried to struggle, as weak as the attempt was with all of your strength zapped.

What was left of your ragged pajamas was removed from your body, skin prickling with goosebumps as the icy air in the room wafted over your exposed skin. Dabi’s hand shot back to your now-exposed chest, gripping and twisting your breasts painfully, forefinger and thumb coming up to grip your nipple and twist, pull, anything he could do to get you to scream again - and scream you did at each cruel ministration. It was when he was cupping the plush flesh of your breasts, scarred hands pushing them up from underneath that a blood-curdling scream as Dabi’s hands heated up to an ultra-hot temperature, branding your flesh with his palmprints. You felt queasy as you heard the sizzle of your skin and smelt the strangely charcoal smell as it burnt. The laughter you heard above you felt amplified as your senses went on high alert. “That was way too fun,” Dabi nearly moaned out, pressing his palms back into where he burnt you as you flinched away from the contact, slipping onto the bed as he straddled your legs, pinning you own further. He leaned in to first take your left nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the pert bud before biting down with considerable force, causing you to cry out once more; he mimicked his actions on your right nipple before licking and sucking up the column of your throat before he assaulted the area with deep bruised hickeys and some less-than-sexy, more like zombie, bites to the delicate skin. 

The pain was making it hard for you to focus on anything else, like the feeling of Dabi shifting above you as he undid his belt, took off his jacket, his t-shirt, removed his jeans, kicked off his shoes and finally slipped out of his boxer briefs where his long, slender cock slapping up against his abdomen as it leaked a pearly bead of pre-cum, the silken, translucent substance slipping down his cockhead as he began to touch himself. He was watching you with predatory eyes, the lazy stoking of his hand up and down his length only serving to harden him more as he ached to be inside of you, and as he lent forward, shoving your legs apart with his own, you cried out as he thrusted forward, and in one swift motion he seated himself fully within your warmth, heavy balls slapping against your ass as the tension from his unprepped entry left your cunt burning, even worse as he spit barely enough to wet his cock down upon where your bodies joined together as he drug his cock out slowly, only for him to slam his hips forward with enough force it jostled you up the bed until your head hit the metal bars of the bedframe.

Dabi began a relentless assault on your pussy as his thrusts became more violent, shaking your whole body with the force as the friction continued to burn. Your body was trying to spare you the pain as it began to lubricate itself with the stimulation, but even in conjunction with Dabi’s spit, and the blood from what definitely felt like a friction tear, it wasn’t nearly enough to save you from it all. Dabi began laughing as his entry into your core was becoming easier, his ruthless thrusts gliding in and out. “Gettin’ all excited for me, huh doll?” Dabi lifted your legs, throwing one over his shoulder and pinning the other one down nearly folding you in half as he chased his own release, hips stuttering as he moaned lowly, whispering a shaky f-fuck under his breath as he pushed his hips forward, spongy cockhead pressing against the deepest point in you with an aching pressure before you felt the hot spurting of him cumming inside of you. You cried harder, hands weakly trying to push him from you but the pain and shock you were in made it hard to really gain an advantage over the man on top of you. 

You felt sick to your stomach as you clenched your eyes shut, feeling as Dabi’s cock stayed seated within you before he began to drag it out agonizingly slow, but not before you heard the shutter sound from a camera. Your eyes shot open, wide in horror as you saw Dabi holding a phone pointed down where your bodies were connected, and the sick feeling only increased when you realized it was your phone. 

Something was off. 

Shoto couldn’t quite settle the uneasy feeling he felt, but when you didn’t text him within an hour, he began to worry so he shot you a quick text.

(Photo description: Fake text message screen, Y/N with a Sakura flower emoji top contact name, Shoto sent four texts which read as follow: “Hey Y/N, just making sure you made it home safely. Thank you for coming over tonight. // Y/N? Is everything okay? // Y/N please answer me, I just want to know you’re okay. // I already called your Mom. I’m coming over.”)

It only took Shoto about fifteen minutes to drive to your apartment, but to be fair he definitely didn’t go the speed limit. He had driven you home a couple of times from work and picked you up for a couple of lunch dates since you had first met so every path to your home was ingrained in him. He parked, and when he began his walk up to the lobby doors he noticed the lights in your apartment were on. Hope and dread wrestled for dominance within him as he tried to think of a reason you didn’t answer his texts. 

Did you just forget? 

Were you busy with something and he overreacted? 

Did you not enjoy tonight as much as it seemed and wanted to distance yourself?

The last one worried Shoto, but he knew how genuine you were, knew that if you didn’t enjoy yourself, it would have been written all over your face. He also knew you would have let him down gently when he asked you to be his girlfriend, sparing his feelings but being honest about yours. It wasn’t like you to lie for someone else’s benefit. Shoto couldn’t stop his body from fidgeting as he waited for the elevator to rise to your floor, pushing the button a couple more times than necessary which made him feel better. When he got to your floor and walked the short distance to your apartment door, he tried to think of something to say to you about his texts if you hadn’t seen them yet. That he was sorry for showing up and bothering you, but he had to know you were okay.

Shoto gave a couple of knocks, but on the third knock your door pushed open a few inches. That set his whole body on high alert because you never left your door unlocked, even when you were just running down the hall to give or get something from your neighbor - he made a joke about it to you once and you said you did it out of habit, afraid the one time you didn’t someone would sneak in. He couldn’t disagree with you there, having a few years under his belt as working hero and a child of Japan’s current number one left him with a clearer understanding of the world and how bad things can happen so suddenly out of nowhere.

He never joked about it with you again, just praised you for your forethought.

Shoto stepped inside to see your purse sitting on your entryway table. Your coat and hat you wore tonight were hung on hooks on the opposite wall as he called your name out into your apartment but was met with complete silence. He saw the shoes you wore tonight knocked over like you either took them off in a hurry or tripped over them on the way back out your apartment. Shoto didn’t take his off as he stepped up further into your apartment and took in the state of things. Your living room wasn’t necessarily messy, but Shoto had gotten to know your habits over the last few weeks with you, knowing that you wouldn’t leave things this way. Your electric kettle was out, a cup with a teabag untouched on the counter; Shoto walked over to press his fingertips to the kettle to notice it was barely above room temperature having sat untouched for too long now. 

“[Name]?” Shoto called out again into the silent apartment, only the echo of his voice coming back to him. Shoto walked toward your bathroom where he saw the light on and could smell the fresh scent of your shampoo that he became familiar with. A favorite scent and he loved to press his nose against the crown of your head when you hugged him, pressing a soft kiss there as he memorized the way you smelt and felt against him. Shoto shook his head, shaking the memory out with it as he pushed open the bathroom door. “[Name]? Are you in here?” Shoto couldn’t hear the water running so he didn’t want to run the risk of walking in on you in any state of undress or startle you as he pushed the door completely open. 

Things were in the bathroom left like you had just wrapped up a shower, a dampness still hung in the air but no steam remained in the air. Shoto turned and moved to your bedroom, a place he had been only once when you invited him over and you both ended up curled up together as you fell asleep watching a movie. He walked through the threshold of the open door, and the sight is what made his blood run cold. His eyes were trained to pick up on certain things, and this room was screaming signs of a struggle everywhere Shoto’s eyes landed. He saw your house slippers on opposite sides of the room, things were knocked off your dresser and vanity, a couple of noted heavier objects were thrown to the floor, presumably when you tried to use them as a weapon... or they were used against you.

Shoto swallowed the hard lump down in his throat, panic swelling in his chest as he took photos on his phone of the whole apartment as it was, he called your mom and informed her of what he believed to have happened - informed her to call the police but let them know that he would be working on this as well, and to contact his father. Shoto’s fingers swiped a quick couple of times before holding the phone to his ear.

“Shoto,” Endeavor’s deep baritone could be heard on the other end, “is everything alright?” After the recent events, and Endeavor’s new journey into being a less shitty person he was more worried when his children reached out, as they rarely did so before except for Fuyumi. 

“Dad,” Shoto was barely conscious of him using that term, but Endeavor shot up where he was seated, already hurrying out of the agency at his son’s use of the term. 

Something was wrong.

A message notification pinged on Shoto’s phone; he could hear Endeavor’s voice shouting on the other end as he pulled it away from his ear to see your name pop up on the notifications up top. He hurriedly pulled it up to see a video attachment, and wondered why you would send a video instead of replying to his texts and letting him know you were okay. He opened the attachment and wasn’t sure what he was looking at, at first, and then his breath caught in his throat, feeling like he was drained of all blood as he ran cold at what he was looking at. He could see your face, albeit bloodied and streaked with dirt and tears, you were completely naked, and he could see what looked like bruises or dirt at first, when a hand came into the view of the camera that he recognized. Long, slender fingers of pale porcelain that cut off into necrotic skin, the gleam of the staples an all too telling sight.

Dabi.

Touya-nii.

He recognized the marks on your chest as handprints now, handprints that were burned into your flesh. He watched with wide, horrified eyes as the camera panned down as the hand trailed your body, Shoto watching as you tried feebly to flinch away from the touch. Watched as the shot ended with the sight of a cock buried within you, a pinkish mixture of blood and cum staining your thighs. Shoto could hear your cries, see your body convulse with the sobbing as he heard a familiar voice cut in

“I hope you don’t mind, little brother,” Dabi’s familiar drawl came over the audio as Shoto watched on, sick to his stomach as he saw Dabi’s hips begin to push forward and pull back as his cock slid in and out of you, streaks of red and sticky, translucent slick and white mixing along the length and at the base of his cock as he did so. “I wanted to keep it all in the family, y’know? Our little sister here, she’s a little weak in my opinion, you deserve someone who matches your strength don’t you think?” A slap could be heard as your cracked voice shrilled and broke into more sobbing as Shoto heard another loud smack! and he couldn’t swallow down the bile rising in his throat. He threw his phone down and ran to the bathroom where he threw up in the toilet, his body shaking as he could hear you cry out from the video still playing before he heard a See you soon, little brother before the audio went silent. Shoto spit into the toilet before standing up again, flushing and running cold water into his mouth and splashing even more on his face. He heard the phone ringing from your bed, and was frozen until the melodic chime cut off, only to begin again. He was able to drag his feet across the hallway and looked down at the screen where he saw Endeavor’s photo and ID come on the screen. He forgot he had called his father earlier, before receiving that message, and picked up again.

“Shoto! Tell me what’s wrong,” Endeavor sounded panicked although anyone from the outside wouldn’t be able to tell. 

Shoto could. 

“Touy-” Shoto stopped himself, “Dabi.”

“Did you run into him, or the League? Tell me where you are!” Shoto could hear a car start up as he was heading in Shoto’s direction. His father had insisted on enabling location tracking for safety and for once he didn’t disagree.

“No,” Shoto managed to get out, choking on the knot of fear lodged in his throat. “I’m at [Name]’s apartment, I’ll text you the address. I have her mom calling the police as well. Dad,” he drew in a ragged breath, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to calm himself and get the visual of your battered body out of his mind. “Dabi took her, and he’s...” Shoto couldn’t hear what else Endeavor said, but it wasn’t long before the police arrived, and Endeavor shortly after. Shoto sent over the initial photos he took of the apartment, and his father and the lead detective watched the video with hard faces, the disgust and discomfort evident in their expressions. Shoto was seated on your bed after the investigators were done collecting any evidence they could find, holding a small puppy plushie he got for you from a claw machine on one of your guys’ lunch dates. Endeavor came in the room, seeing his son in such a sorry state knowing it was his own mistakes that led them to this point, but now wasn’t the time to grieve over his wrongdoings, right now his son needed his support. Endeavor placed a large hand on Shoto’s shoulder, a hopefully reassuring gesture.

“The detectives are looking into tracing her phone right now and trying to gather clues from the room the video was shot in,” Endeavor didn’t know how else to offer comfort to his son, so he only gave him the facts as they are in the moment. “They’re going to be conducting interviews in the building around the time you suspected she should’ve arrived home last night, and they want you to forward any further communication you may receive...” Endeavor’s voice trailed off, watching as Shoto flinched at the idea of receiving anything else from his villainous brother.

“Thanks, Endeavor,” Shoto managed out, and it relieved Endeavor a bit to hear him speak. He wanted to be called Dad again, but that was an issue for another time... perhaps another lifetime. 

Shoto remained sat on your bed until the detectives finished up their work, he asked if he would be able to clean up the mess for you and they agreed, the pitiful smile on one of the detectives faces eluding Shoto’s gaze as they all took their supplies with them, and after Endeavor said he would allocate some Pros, sidekicks and other resources to finding you, he left the apartment as well. Shoto began his task of cleaning for you. Fist he gathered all of the things that were out of place and put them back where they belonged, he put away your kettle and teacup, throwing away some trash and wiping down some surfaces to keep his mind off of this whole situation. He felt so helpless, so useless - feeling such foreign emotions left him confused and angry. 

Shoto’s phone pinged again, and he froze. He glanced at the screen to see your name previewed in the notification with a photo attachment. This couldn’t keep happening while he sat around and sulked, he had to do everything he could to find you.

Shoto clicked on the notification, and then pressed your contact before putting the phone to his ear. It rang one, twice, three, four times before the phone picked up. Shoto could make out someone breathing before he heard your ear-piercing scream. “Dabi,” Shoto all but growled out only to be met with an amused chuckle on the other end. “I am going to find you, and I am going to kill you. If you lay another finger on her...!” the line went dead, and two more pings were heard from the device in Shoto’s shaking hand. 

He opened the attachments to see one photo of your bruised and bloodied face, cheeks squished between Dabi’s thumb and pointer finger in a crushing grip, your eyes were teary and red. 

The second photo was a close up of the burns on your chest, soft skin and pebbled nipples in contrast to the marks that littered your skin, bite marks, but the real horror was the blackened, peeling skin blistered and bloodied in the shape of large palm prints in the way they cupped your breasts. 

The sight make Shoto’s stomach turn, swallowing down the acid and bile that rose up into his mouth before opening the third attachment and seeing a scarred hand taking up most of the shot, long fingers spreading your pussy lips to capture the perfect moment a blood-pink-tinged glob of cum was seeping out of you.

Shoto wanted to crush his phone in his hands with the fiery rage that filled his whole body, quirk heating up the left side of his body as his rage grew. He couldn’t break the device, however, because it was his only tie to you. He resolved to go back to his place, happy with how he straightened up the mess that was created - he didn’t want you to come back to any reminders of this time, though the mental scars he knew you were already developing would need support to heal. He wanted to bring you back safely, back to him. 

Shoto left your apartment, locking the door behind him with the key left on your entryway table by your purse. He resolved to give it back to you when you returned safely to him.

You felt drained. Your body was aching everywhere, burning in the places where Dabi paid closer attention to cause extra harm; the bites, the burns, where his unprepped entry left you feeling torn in half as he rammed himself inside of you, three times now that you recalled. Before he exited the room, nearly leaving the room with you simply restrained to his bed, but stopped at the doorway and turned around, a sick, curious smile on his face as he set the phone in his hand down atop a dresser - your phone. 

Your mouth went dry wondering what he was doing with your phone.

Taunting Shoto pretending to be you, or letting him in on it being him behind the screen? Or worse... you thought about the photos and videos he’s taken of you, bile rising in your throat as you imagined Shoto seeing any of it, but your anxious train of thought was interrupted with Dabi’s full attention back on you.

“Can’t just leave you alone while I take care of business, now can I doll?” You tried to watch what he was doing but the pain increased the more you tried to glance and watch him gather some things from around the room. Dabi had undone the bindings keeping you in place on the bed, only to flip you on your stomach and bind your arms behind your back tighter than before, attaching those bindings to a pulley you didn’t know was above his bed as one end of the rope kept you up by your arms and the other... the other you turned your head to watch in abject panic at the sight before you. Dabi was holding a large metal hook, a hook that was thick and curved and at the end where normally a terrifying sharp point would be there was a large, tapered ball. The grin on Dabi’s face was enthralled as he watched you watch him, eyes wide and panicked. Dabi spit on the end of the ball before he pushed your legs apart, spreading your ass cheeks with his hand only to spit there, too, and with one cruel motion he pushed the large ball through the tight ring of resistant muscle as the hook bullied its way into your backside. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, a choked, gargled whimper all that you could manage with your hoarse voice. He attached the other end of the chain attached to your arm bindings to the looped end of the hook, forcing you to balance yourself in a sick stamina game. He wasn’t done, however, as he stroked your cheek with a tenderness he hadn’t yet touched you with, not before wrapping a leather strap around your head attached to a ball gag; only where the typical ball would be to stretch your mouth open there was a large, silicone cock that he shoved into your mouth before you realized what was happening. You gagged and struggled around the intrusion as he secured the clip behind your head and watched as more tears pricked your eyes and the sounds of your choking filled the air. His last parting gift to you was to place a large black box on the bed behind you. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn and see what this contraption was, just listening to the shuffling sounds as Dabi made quick work of whatever it was he was accomplishing behind you until you gagged around the intrusion in your throat in an attempt to force a plea of mercy out of your mouth, with him when you felt a large intrusion breaching your pussy. You heard the click of a button before a whirring, mechanical sound was heard as the object that spread your pussy began to move forward. 

The machine began at a slow pace, fucking a horrendously large appendage into your pussy, the speed picking up to a cruel rhythm as you heard the click of a button at least five times. You were crying again, surprised there was any liquid left in your body to give - you couldn’t even be sure you had enough blood in your veins to survive much longer. Every time you tried to shift your body away from the unforgiving onslaught, you were reminded that the front half of you was holding up the back half as the metal ball-hook stuffed in your ass pulled and caused a greater deal of pain.

“Don’t want you getting lonely while I’m gone,” Dabi lent down to kiss your temple before landing a hard smack to your cheek, patting away the sting with a joyful laugh before leaving you alone in the room with nothing but the sounds of your own torture to be heard. You couldn’t fight your body’s natural reactions, however, as th stimulation continued you felt a tight coil in your lower abdomen building up and before long a strong orgasm washed over you and you thrashed and struggled because the machine wasn’t a man - it wouldn’t slow down and be kind to you, it would only fuck you at the same brutal pace through your orgasm and into another, and another before your vision blurred and you may or may not have lost consciousness a time or two, or seven.

You weren’t sure how long Dabi had left you alone in the room being assaulted by his contraptions, all you knew was at some point the machine made a loud clunking sound and the assault stopped, however it stopped on a thrust in and left the large plastic cock lodged in your pussy. Your poor abused pussy that was pulsating and tingling, numb from the countless penetrations and clinging tightly onto the intruding plastic cock almost painfully. You wanted it out of you. You wanted everything fucking out of you! You had long since gotten used to breathing and swallowing around the silicone cock shoved down your throat and found a safe middle ground to balance between your upper body and the hook penetrating your ass. The pull from the hook was becoming more and more painful, but at least if you kept this posture up it wouldn’t cause you anymore undue pain. Suddenly, you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you as a warm liquid ran down your thighs, spraying lewdly around the cock nestled inside of you. You couldn’t remember if this was the first time you had pissed yourself - unsure if you squirted or peed during some of the more extended orgasm periods in the constant assault you went through, frankly the thought being true one way or another didn’t matter - it just disgusted you. 

The passage of time became untellable to you, there were no windows to give away the time with natural light, no clocks, no devices, nothing. Dabi had been gone for quite a while, though, that you knew. You found yourself wondering where he had gone, and for how long; looking around to see if there was any way to free you of your binds and protect you as you tried to get out of this room - wherever this was. One of the only things keeping you going instead of giving up was knowing that your mom and Shoto would both be looking for you... if they knew you were missing. 

Your emotions ebbed and flowed between hope and anxiety as you tried to reconcile them. Shoto was smart, caring, and attentive; a bit oblivious at times but he wasn’t someone who would let something go.

Something like you telling him you’d text him you were home.

He’s done it before, texted you or called to check in when your approximate time back to your apartment went over, or texting him slipped your mind because something else came up. He always followed up to make sure you were okay - and given the time you’ve been gone he had to know and be looking for you.

He had to know.

Dabi wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave you alone, would he? No, he would definitely leave you alone... but it wasn’t stupidity, it was arrogance. Shoto couldn’t help the incessant bouncing of his leg, couldn’t help the anticipation of seeing if this tip from a member of the public was true. Blue flames were reported just outside of Kiyashi Ward, and some lower villains were reportedly seen lurking around and causing issues. Endeavor and Shoto were on their way to check into report and Shoto couldn’t help but hope to the heavens that it was true.

The train seemed to take forever but it helped that Shoto had other ways of trying to track you down as a way to pass the time better. He refreshed the service map in the hopes a ping from your cellphone would pop up, but so far nothing has shown up. Endeavor watched on as his son focused on the screen in front of him, worry creasing his features as he kept his mouth shut - knowing that nothing could be of comfort, words or otherwise, until Shoto had eyes on you and by the hard-set, murderous looked darkening his face - Dabi’s head on the ground in front of him. As grieved as Endeavor is over the recent revelations of his eldest son he is also hard-pressed to disagree in that regard given Dabi’s numerous crimes. Endeavor’s chest felt heavy, equally guilty for creating this villain, and now this situation that caused pain to his youngest.

Shoto had seen your phone ping on the map earlier, matching up with the time he was sent the additional photos of you, stomach churning at the memory. He swallowed hard, refreshing two more times before slamming his device down against his leg before shoving it back into his pocket. He had notifications on that were attached to an alarm sound if your phone pinged on the map, but he wasn’t one to wait so patiently in a situation like this - he had always counseled his friends on keeping a cool head but he couldn’t even do that himself. Shoto’s gaze was ripped away from the floor of the train to a few miles south of the city where he saw an unmistakable icy blue blaze flash and disappear. Shoto shot up out of his seat, electing to head to the furthest rear car, opening the door as his father called out after him only to hear his name shouted as he jumped off the moving train, landing on a nearby platform with a harsh impact.

“Shoto! That was too reckless, we were almost at the station what were you thin-” Endeavor’s tirade was cut short as Shoto pointed south, and in the distance, Endeavor took note of the same thing his son had seen earlier before his unceremonious jump from the train. “Let’s go,” nothing else needed to be said, Shoto was already running ahead of Endeavor, who was on the phone making a quick call. The heavy thud of the duos footfalls were all that could be heard on the quiet streets, the citizens already warned of a villain in the area and to take shelter. Shoto was thankful for that, not ready to focus on minimizing loss of life, or damage, or worrying over someone trying to stop him or his father for a photo or an autograph not knowing there was an emergency just a few blocks away. He couldn’t afford to stop when you were suffering somewhere, and it was his fault. He loved you so much already, but he is now the sole cause of the torture you’re experiencing now - all because of his fucked up family. How could he ever face you again after this?

“TOOOUUYYA!” Shoto stopped dead at the loud boom of his father’s voice. His eyes scanning around him until he saw a flash of blue and then as the smoke, dust and falling rubble cleared from a building that just took a hit he could see him - see his brother. His blood boiled as his heart sank into his stomach. Shoto could feel the fiery hot burn on his left side, his fingers clenching and unclenching with an ache to punch in his brother’s face until it was unrecognizable.

“Awe, if it isn’t dear ole Dad,” Dabi chuckled, his voice carrying across the distance between them, “and little Shoto tagged along too, hm? I would think you’d be at home touching yourself to the sweet little videos I made for you - [Name]... she has such a tight little-” a roaring blaze of flame shot toward Dabi, causing him to have to jump out of the way last minute, the edges of his coat burning a moment before the wind from his jump snuffed it out.

“Where is she, Dabi!” Shoto was screaming that same sentence over and over, blasting waves of flame and ice toward his elder brother each time he was met with a psychotic laugh, a taunt, or anything that wasn’t your location. Shoto went to turn and face his father, getting ready to shout a plan of attack but saw the Pro was unmoving behind him, hurriedly whisper-shouting into the receiver of his cell and looking up just in time to see Shoto’s fiery disposition as he shouted for assistance.

“Get your head in the fight, Endeavor!” Shoto all but growled out, catching the end of Endeavor’s phone conversation.

“-out of there, now! We’ll handle this!” Endeavor shoved his phone into his pocket, quirk igniting his body as he shot forward into the fight with Shoto - both of them going full-force at the estranged Todoroki son.

A glorious moment of keen-eye clarity had you recalling Dabi leaving your phone on the dresser by the door. Though your vision was blurred you could make out the length of the slim device, the scant hope left in your mind at your phone being turned on, or even charged as you tried to shout out across the room.

Your mind began to wonder at how you could possibly access the device, there was no way for you to try to fruitlessly shout Hey Siri! with the damnable gag in your mouth. A fresh wave of tears pricked at your burning eyes as a sickening thought crossed your mind. The plan forming in your head was bleak at best, but if it worked it would help aide in your rescue - or kill you - either way, an escape. You used your tongue to shift around the silicone cock lodged in your throat, painfully stretching your jaw so you could angle your teeth down, sinking into the pliant material as a chunk of it loosened from the shaft, falling loosely in the space against your cheek. You forced yourself to swallow down the vile plastic, gagging on the resistance it put up. Again, again, and again. Chunk after disgusting chunk until you had taken down enough of the gag to use your tongue to force the rest of it from your mouth, spit and specks of shredded silicone sticking to your chin.

“Hey Siri-” your voice was so hoarse you don’t think your phone’s AI assistant would even catch it if it was on. You swallowed the meager amount of saliva you had collected beneath your tongue, coughing and cleaning the spiderweb feeling in the back of your throat, and swallowing down the knot that was created after your idiotic plan.

Idiotic you thought, but successful.

“Hey Siri!” You managed to force your voice out loud enough, clear enough, that when you heard the soft melodic ding! of your AI assistant lighting up your screen ready for a direction, you wanted to start sobbing all over again. “Call work!”

Ring... ring...

Ring...

“Endeavor Agency, how may I-” you couldn’t waste battery life on niceties.

“P-please,” you managed out loud enough for the receiver to pick up. “Please connect me with Kido!” The secretary sensing the urgency didn’t push for more detail as she managed to connect you through to the phone of one of the sidekicks at Endeavor’s agency you became friends with. You were acquainted with most everyone at the agency, but Shoto introduced you to the Flaming Sidekickers and Kido quickly took to you.

“This is Kido,” the smooth voice came from the other end, you really wanted to just cry at this plan having worked, but there wasn’t time.

“Kido,” you managed out, and it’s all you got out before the hero was shouting away from the receiver that he had you on the phone and you could hear a bunch of screaming all around him.

“[Name]!” Kido’s normally quiet voice booming over the phone and filling up the room with its echoes. “[Name] where the Hell are you? Are you okay? We’ve been trying to reach you for-” 

“Kido please,” you pleaded, “I don’t know how much battery this phone has, I’m not even physically holding it. Please. Can you find my location?” Kido reassured you that they had been waiting for your cellphone to be used so they could further triangulate your location, having it turned on only led them to a large expanse of city where you could have been. “Kido, something else...” your voice trailed off as your weight shifted, causing a painful chain reaction with your aching, bound limbs and the anal hook that was still holding your backend up. “Please bring Moe, please only have her come in and find me. Please.” Kido didn’t push that issue further hearing your voice, only agreeing before saying he had your location and they were on their way to you. He promised they would see you soon, they were only a short distance away. You wanted to stay on the phone with them but didn’t want to risk running the battery down in case you needed it for anything, didn’t want to run the risk of Dabi coming back hearing you calling for help.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, didn’t know if you had passed out or simply zoned out of your mind until you heard shuffling outside of the door. Your whole body tensed up with the possibility of it being Dabi returning from wherever the hell he went, before your colleagues could find you. 

“[Name]?” The familiar voice of Moe came through the door, you could turn your head just enough to see the door being pushed open, and the sight of the flaming-haired girl stepping through, her eyes widening in horror at seeing your predicament before yelling something behind her and slamming the door. “Hold tight, let me help you out of this...” the normally boisterous girl was quiet and focused, hands steady as she traced over you gently, trying to figure out where to start in helping you down. “I’m going to release your arms first, there might be some pain when your body drops but we’ll get the rest out right now, I promise.” Her touch was gentle as she unhooked the chain holding your bound arms, the top half of your body dropping, causing a tug to the anal hook that had you choking on a cry, before Moe continued to comfort you, stating she was going to be removing both the anal hook and the dildo attached to the machine. The pull-out of the objects was almost as agonizing as when they went in. Your pussy was sore, gaping and pulsing around nothing after so long of having been stuffed to the brim. The soft pop of the anal hook coming out gave you both relief and another round of pain - but it was over... this all was going to be over.

Moe then worked on undoing the bindings that held onto the rest of your body until you were stripped bare. Moe rushed around the room, finding suitable clothes in the form of a black t-shirt and black sweatpants. Dabi’s, no doubt. You weren’t going to complain about being in anything that had anything to do with him, you just wanted to be covered and out of this nightmare. 

Moe had called for the others to come in now, and you saw Kido holding a cellphone to his ear, having pulled it away quickly when you heard the booming voice of Endeavor on the other end.

“Get her out of there now! We’ll handle this!” Kido only agreeing quickly before hanging up, looking over at you with relieved eyes. Relief quickly changing to a horrified emotion when his sight darted around the room, at the bindings and sex toys, at the way Moe held you upright with a strength that was supportive but soft enough to not put any undue pressure on you. The way your fingers curled into the clothing you were wearing, holding the fabric away as if you didn’t want it touching you.

“C’mon,” Kido’s voice was a gentle monotone, comforting. “We have an unmarked vehicle waiting to get you to a private rehabilitation center.”

“Shoto-”  you tried to speak out but your throat was tight and dry. “I-is Shoto?”

“He’s okay,” Moe spoke as she lifted you up carefully, but had to set you back down as your legs gave way. “He and Endeavor are currently fighting with Dabi on the other side of the city. They will meet up with us when they wrap up his capture.” Kido stepped forward to pick you up bridal style, maneuvering you out of the room carefully to not knock any part of you on a wall, or threshold. The heroes made their way out of the rundown building, carefully putting you into a blacked-out SUV and tore off away from the building. 

“We’re getting you back home, the drive won’t be too long but please let us know if you’re in too much pain to continue travelling,” Kido was driving, looking back at you in the rearview mirror as Moe held you in her arms.

“I’ll be okay,” you managed out, before succumbing to an uncomfortable sleep.

Beep.

Beep, beep.

Beep.

Your eyelids felt heavy, impossible to open as your consciousness came back to you. The sticky glue of sleep caked in your lashes with tears as you forced them open, burning from the contact with the bright fluorescent light and sterilized air. The gentle beeping of your heart monitor, and the mechanical humming coming from the I.V. fluid machine on a timed drip were the only sounds aside from a gentle breathing to be heard in your room.

Breathing?

You glanced around the large room until your eyes landed on one of the large guest chairs pushed against the wall near the window where a sleeping Shoto was hunched over, head slipping out of his hands as his body gently jolted with his breathing and the myoclonic jerks of his body.

Fresh tears pricked your eyes as you watched him breathe. He was here, in front of you. He was alive, and he was here with you. If he was here with you... Dabi had to be in jail - right?

Your whole body jumped as the sliding door to your room opened, your attention ripping away from Shoto as a doctor trailed by Endeavor and a nurse came into the room. Endeavor’s imposing form filling up the space, menacing in his size even when he wasn’t trying to be imposing. Shoto finally shot up, eyes scanning the intruders until they shot over to you, wet with tears that spilled over onto his cheeks. 

“Miss [last name], glad to see you awake today.” The doctor spoke clinically to you, allowing the nurse to perform a blood pressure check, adjust your I.V. fluids, and assess your body’s physical condition. “You underwent a minor surgery to remove some foreign object from your stomach, we also had one of our in-house quirk users heal the severe internal trauma you suffered, you’ll feel a pretty deep ache, but you should have a full recovery,” the doctor trailed off turning to the nurse behind him as she stepped forward, telling you about mental health counselling they offer here in their facility. You simply nodded, not bothering to look up into anyone's eyes as they droned on and on about your recovery, how you should be totally fine after some bedrest.  

You just nodded along to her handing you a release form, watching as she pulled the I.V. needle from your arm. Looking down at the form as your vision blurred in and out until a gentle touch woke you up from your wandering thoughts. You glanced up to see Shoto smiling down at you, the subtle upturn of his lips reassuring you. You signed the release, and the nurse left the room shortly after Endeavor and the doctor had stepped out a few moments earlier.

“[Name]... I’m so-I’m so sorry,” Shoto’s words got caught in his throat, choking on the weight of reality that couldn’t be erased with a simple apology. His trembling hands were attempting to hold yours, but their grip began to slip as his shoulders shook with the sobs wracking his body. Your hands squeezed around his reassuringly as he looked up at you with wide, watery eyes. 

“Shoto this isn’t yo-” he cut you off.

“Don’t say this isn’t my fault,” he ground out between clenched teeth, “you were hurt because of your connection to me and my family - it is only my fault. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you before any of it happened, I’m sorry I can’t undo any of it.” Shoto continued to cry, unable to look at you as you tugged on his hands, pulling on his arms until he got the message that you wanted him on the bed with you. He rested on his side as you pulled him into your arms, resting his cheek against your chest as he calmed his breathing to the sound of your heart. Your still-beating heart. He was so grateful you were physically here in front of him now, but it didn’t stop the unending waves of guilt and shame that he couldn’t do anything against his brother, couldn’t do anything to protect you when being with him put you in the sights of so many villains. 

“Shoto, wanna go home,” you whispered against his soft hair, words mumbled from your lips pressing against the top of his head. He simply nodded.

“D-did you want to go back to your apartment? Or you can come stay with me... or we can put you up in a new condo in the meantime if you don’t want to do either of those,” Shoto was shooting off a few suggestions, but you just wanted to go back to your familiar bed. As many new, awful memories lived there it was still your place of comfort - for now. 

“I’d like to go back to my apartment for now,” you relented, and he looked up into your eyes from his position resting against you, a frown deepening on his face. “I’ll consider moving to a new place with better security soon but for now I just want the comfort of familiarity.” 

“I’ve already arranged an extended paid leave from work for you, you can take as little or as much time as you want,” he stood up from the bed, gathering what little he had in the room with him before extending a small bag your way. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear the hospital gown home, so I got something simple.” You peeked in the bag and saw a casual black jersey dress, soft and flowy against your fingertips as you touched the fabric. “I thought you’d want something soft and easy,” his nervous mumbling was endearing as you stood from the bed with his help, gripping onto his forearms as he let you use him to gain strength standing.

“It’s perfect, Sho,” you managed a smile, “I’m gonna get changed, I’ll meet you outside in a couple of minutes?” He nodded and took his stuff, leaving the room with the quiet sliding of the door before a soft click sounded. You pulled out the dress and pulled it over your head, the silken fabric falling to your mid-calf and in the bottom of the bag you noted some all-black slip-on canvas shoes. It was small things like this that made you smile so much - this was similar to the outfit you picked out the first day you met Shoto officially, the day you ran into each other that started this relationship. Being back in these clothes spread a wave of butterflies across your whole body and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

You gathered the paperwork you were given, opting to leave the clothes you were rescued in - they were his any severing any connection to him seemed like the right thing to do. You didn’t want to wear or own anything that was ever his. You stepped out of the room to see Shoto pacing a little, smiling when he saw you exit and extending his hand for you to take. You gladly did, allowing him to pull you closely into his side as he led you out of the clinic and into a waiting company vehicle. You were thankful for the blacked-out windows of the SUV, finding the brightness of the sun uncomfortable, as well as the sight of anyone’s eyes lingering on you too long. Shoto leaned away from you for a second before pulling out your cellphone from his pocket.

“I cleaned it of everything that you didn’t already have on it,” Shoto’s words hooked into your skin. Nothing you didn’t already have on it? So Dabi did use your phone for something.

“Did Dab-” you couldn’t manage to say his name. “Did he send you... I know he took photos, Sho, did he-” you couldn’t get your thoughts out, afraid of the answer.

“Would knowing the truth help you right now?” He asked, simple.

“Yes,” you answered back, barely a whisper. “I think it would.”

“Yes,” he answered back. “He sent me some taunts over text, as well as photos and videos of you in compromising positions. There are no existing copies of the photos or videos, they were briefly used by the detectives to gather location information from the backend of the photos, but those were confirmed deleted, and they were observed during their investigation to ensure nothing slipped through the cracks,” Shoto was clinical in his answer to you which you appreciated. You didn’t want to be babied at this moment. You just gave a brief nod before leading your body into Shoto, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer into his side as the car took you both back to your apartment.

Once arrived Shoto followed you up, asking to enter first just in case anything was missed by the detectives as he scanned your apartment for signs anyone but you had been inside, deeming it good enough for you to come further into your apartment. Shoto watches as your eyes moved around the familiar space with uncertainty, he wanted to hold you in his arms and take you back to his home, but he knew that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“I can stay on the couch if you like,” Shoto offered, met with your shaking head and sad smile. 

“I appreciate it Shoto, so much,” you assured him, leading him back to the door. “Text me when you get home safely yeah? I think I’m going to shower, have some tea and try to get some sleep.” You lent up on your tippy toes to place a soft peck on Shoto’s lips, and he hummed against the kiss, pressing into you for a second longer before you pulled away. “Thank you for fighting for me, Sho, we can talk more tomorrow, okay?” He simply nodded, giving the hand he had clasped around yours a soft squeeze as he left out your door, and down to the waiting car. 

You let yourself stand in your entryway for some time after Shoto left. Letting the silence of your apartment settle into your bones before you finally decided to move to your bathroom, stripping the dress from your body as you looked in the mirror. There was a faint healed white scarring in the shape of two large handprints still beneath your bust, the sight made you physically ill. 

Something new to get used to.

You fell back into your normal routine, taking your time to pamper yourself in the shower and stepping out into the steam, wrapping yourself in a fresh, fluffy towel before crossing the hallway into your room. You went into a familiar drawer and pulled out an old t-shirt and shorts. Everything was so familiar to you but felt so far away... so foreign. You fell into your bed, pulling up the covers as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, having forgotten all about your tea or waiting up for Shoto’s text.

Back in the SUV, Shoto was feeling relieved but couldn’t stop the anxious jump of his leg. He wanted to stay with you, wanted to soothe the sharp edges of your experience and talk things over with you. He wanted to be there for you, but he also respected your wishes to be alone and reset in your own space. He finally resigned himself, sitting back in the seat as his body relaxed more. He would ask to see you tomorrow, and you could start from there. Just when he was nearly lost in a daydream his phone began to vibrate, going to pick it up thinking it was you until he saw his dad’s number. Shoto hesitated, almost not picking up before he just pressed answer and put the phone to his ear.

“Endeavor,” Shoto’s voice was a flat monotone as he waited for the reason for the late-night call.

“Shoto there’s an issue,” Endeavor hurried out, “the guards at the holding facility with Touya said he’s no longer there, there was some ectoplasmic sludge left in his wake - the detective thinks it was one of Twice’s clones.” Shoto didn’t hesitate to scream at the driver to take him back to your apartment, his father’s loud voice screaming from the receiver for him as he hung up the call. Shoto wasted no time in trying to call you with no answer. He shot you a text to call him as soon as you got his message and kept trying to call you again.

A harsh banging on your door jolted you from your sleep. You blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you noticed your clock saying it was only about forty minutes from when you first laid down. The banging continued until you got up, shuffling to your front door before peeking through the peephole but seeing no one. An acrid smell assaulted your nostrils and you saw a grey haze that had you worried there was a fire, and someone had just come down the hallways warning everyone. You pulled your door open to find the hallway empty and no obvious signs of a fire, no one was making a fuss and there wasn’t an alarm. It was when you went to shut your door that your blood ran cold - there on your door was a blackened handprint, still steaming and hot to the touch. You slammed your door shut quickly, locking the deadbolt and the knob as you stumbled back from the door. You turned around and ran to your room, hearing the chime of your cellphone before it quickly cut off.

You froze in the doorway, in the dimness of your room there was a brilliant electric blue light - flame - and an unmistakable silhouette with your cellphone to his ear, a familiar voice chilling you to the core as goosebumps spread across your body. 

“Sorry little brother,” Dabi couldn’t hide the jovial tone, each word punctuated with a bit of laughter. “Our little sister can’t come to the phone right now.”

#shoto torodoki #todoroki shoto #Dabi #Touya Todoroki #todoroki touya #Dabi smut #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x fem!reader #dabi x fem!reader #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #dabi x fem!reader smut #BNHA #MHA #MHA Dabi #BNHA Dabi #BNHA smut #MHA Smut #cw noncon #tw noncon #dead dove do not eat #dead dove

[buzzyb33]

Oh, well.

Prompt: Harry and Y/n meet online, after deciding or meet up in north London, a couple weeks later they meet each other again a couple weeks later under extremely different circumstances.

Warnings: swearing,

I just got back from meeting a boy, something I didn’t usually do, but I’d been talking to Harry as I met him online for a while now and we just met up.

Harry was a YouTuber, part of a big YouTube group with the money and looks to get him through life like a breeze.

I had a pretty decent job too, I was a photographer who travelled around Europe to take photos of models and scenery which got me a decent amount of money, so having a gorgeously decorated 2 bedroom apartment in London was perfect for me.

I streamed on twitch sometimes and had a small audience which I mainly did for fun.

I grin as I lock my door as squeal as that was one of my first ‘dates’ in years.

I smile and flop down on my bed.

A couple hours later as I’m cleaning my house I get a call from my younger brother, Tommy who was seventeen, eight years younger than me.

“Hello?” I say as my music turns off in my AirPods replaced by the phone call.

“Y/n! I- dad has a new girlfriend!” He announces with obvious pride in his voice.

“And how do you know that?” I respond as I keep washing up.

“Right- he’s been on his phone a lot more than normal, he’s been leaving around 9-11 every Thursday and he left in a suit today, he came back at 11 and there was lipstick on his collar, and he’s just been happier.” He says in a nonchalant tone.

Our mother died years ago- seven to be exact.

“Right- okay- sure Tommy, let him tell us in his own time- don’t push him.” I say as I start washing my hands.

“Yeah- right, bye n/n.” He says as the line cuts dead.

A couple weeks later, where me and Harry are getting more serious with more dates (and a couple make out sessions) my dad invites me other for dinner hesitantly saying he has a girlfriend- confirming Tommys suspicions.

As I arrive to the other side of London and see my dad and brother they both hug me as my dad clears his throat: “y/n- I as I’ve said in our group thingy- I have a- I’m seeing another woman, I have been for around 6 months now.. and- she’s coming round, Y/n, she has a son your age, a daughter two years younger and another son who isn’t coming- so look presentable- please.” He finishes with a clap of his hands and a pointed look in Tommy’s direction.

He scoffs and goes upstairs.

Today I was wearing a dark green button up crop top, black cargos, a belt, some jewellery, basic makeup and had my long black hair down.

Man hour later, when my dad was almost finished with making the spaghetti bolognaise there’s a knock at that door which Tommy runs to answer.

A couple seconds later, an older woman, who was pretty for her age walks in, followed by a young girl- early twenties and a boy- he looks up and as we lock eyes my jaw drops, his eyes widen and I gulp.

Harry.

What the fuck?

My face heats up as I fake a smile and introduce myself to them.

I get to Harry and shake his hand, which lingers for a bit too long as we look into each others eyes.

“I’m- Y/n..” I say to him and he nods.

“I’m, uh, Harry.” He says back.

We sit at that table with him directly opposite me, my dad to my left.

Around ten minutes later, when I’m just spinning my spaghetti on a fork my dad taps my shoulder.

“Why don’t you get to know Harry? You’re the same age-“ he starts but I cut in. “Dad were not twel-“ he cuts me off. “No! I insist! Go show him around the area! Let me talk to Tricia- Rosie is with Tom- go!” He says and shoos us off.

I frown as I bend down to tie my laces, feeling Harry’s eyes on me.

I look up at him and stand back up, leaving the house.

“This is- awkward.” He says as we get a little away from my house.

I nod and scratch my head.

“What now? Do- we.. keep.. seeing-“ he stops me.

“Only if you want to- I don’t want any tension- between us- or our parents.” He says.

I look up at him and smile.

“I- like you.. a lot I- don’t want to stop seeing you..” I say hesitantly as he smiles.

“I like you a lot too.. I want us to keep being a thing.. but- uhm- I don’t think we can- tell our parents..” he says and I nod.

I smile and take his hand.

We hold hands as we walk.

I lean closer to him as we walk around the area in silence.

When we arrived back we let go of each others hands and sit on the main sofa, Rosie and Tommy were in his room playing Minecraft and our parents were laughing over wine in the kitchen.

I smile at Harry.

“It’s like my friends when we were little- I think you’re going to be staying tonight.” I giggle slightly.

He laughs back.

“I can say I’m going home- so can you- we can still.. stay together.” He suggests with a smile.

After we left, we got McDonald’s and made out in the parking lot while laughing.

Sneaking around our parents won’t be as easy.

A/n: I like this one!

Anyway request me whatever read my page rules if your unsure and if something isn’t specified ask!

#sidemen x y/n #sidemen x reader #sidemen #harry wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw #harry lewis #w2s #josh zerkaa #josh zerkaa x reader #ksi #jj olatunji #ksi x reader #simon minter #miniminter #simon minter x reader #tobijzl #tobi brown x reader #tobjizzle #vikkstar123 #vikkstar x reader #ethan payne #behzinga #ethan payne x reader #behzinga x reader #ethan behzinga

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Monday wonderful fandom :) I can’t believe we’ve reached the finale I’m in shock we're here. This has been my side hobby for 9 plus months. I started these to get through the extended hiatus. I wasn’t even sure anyone would even read them. The response I got was so lovely. I adore this fandom. So welcoming to any new Chenford content.

So thank you to everyone who’s read these especially those who've been with me since the very beginning. I can’t explain how much it has meant to me. Whether it was likes, reblogs or comments. Special shout out to my tumblr bestie @makeitastrength and @northern-neighbor You both commented on every single one of these. Thank you so much for your insight and sticking with me this entire time. Means more than you'll ever know.

I’m planning to do mini reviews during this new season. Then this same kind of thing during our hiatus hopefully we’ll have S7 locked in by then. *fingers crossed* I finished this before S6 which was my goal. We are only 8 days away which is unreal. Eeeee. Let us get started.

5x22 Under Siege

This episode starts off with all kinds of anxiety. Aaron and Celina kill me with not calling the noise in WHY.... Why didn’t you call it in? Ugh. Celina lying on top of Aaron protecting him till they arrive. Rip my damn heart out right off the bat why don't ya? I’m going to cry. I love Tim and Lucy showing up to the scene together. They’re clearly off shift and showing up to the scene with each other. I love these little details they make my heart so happy.

They’re a packaged deal now and I couldn’t be happier about it. Also like to note looks like Lucy is wearing one of his jackets. Maybe they were at his place when they got the call? The sleeves look long on her and I adore it. Basically living together at this point. I can’t get over it. Just casually showing up to scenes now. Ain’t no thang. This thought is where I live till S6 LOL

Anyways Tim says he heard it was Aaron. Grey confirms this is true. GSW to the back. Looks like the same spot Jackson was shot. Eerily so. Three masked men and they were ambushed. The painful parallels to Jackson’s death in this one getting me in the feels. Grey has them start to work the scene. Lucy looks incredibly upset but is trying to keep it in check. Probably feeling the Jackson vibes too.

Our couple arrives at the hospital with an update. Once again arriving together. I love the quick looks we get as they approach. That silent communication of their's ever present. Also she is wearing the necklace I must comment. It’s popping against that shirt she is wearing. Like to also point out how look at each other while the other speaks. It’s the little things I love so very much. Getting massive 4x01 vibes from this scene too. Reminding me of the scene is Wes's living room night after the hug. The height difference, the way Lucy is looking at Tim as he speaks. United front power couple vibes.

So much can change and things like this stay the same I love it. They’re reporting back their CI’s have nothing. No one has heard back about a gang targeting cops. Lucy has also hit a dead end with the masks. Their next idea was Elijah but Tim says nothing out of prison confirming that. Angela and Wes are working on the riddle. Grey tells them to head home they’re not getting anywhere tonight. Once they've all left Grey turning to Luna saying he can lose another. Ugh getting me in the feels so early in this episode. More Jackson feels.

Lucy and Tim get home late. The minute they’re back Lucy’s walls are down. Tim can see how upset she is. Another great callback to 4x01. To that hug. Only this time Lucy doesn’t have to ask for it. Tim seeks her out. See’s how now that they're home her work walls are down. She is visibly wrecked and can't hold back the tears any longer. I love how he pulls her right into his arms. Being the exact comfort she needs in this moment. He can't stand to see her upset. Wanting to make it better.

Tim grabbing her instantly is so lovely. Lucy crashes into him and falls apart. He gets to comfort as much as she needs now. How very far we’ve come. It’s been a beautiful journey to this point. Lucy is ready to fall apart in her safe place. Knowing Tim will be there pick up the pieces. Shield her from the PTSD this must be bringing up for her. I love how he encases her fully. One hand around her back the other gently cradling her head to his chest.

Tim closing his eyes wanting to absorb her sadness. The swaying and his chin on top of her head. *squee* I love her being fully enclosed in his arms. Also never be over the fact Eric improvised the kiss to her head. Forever squeeing about that fact. Our ship King is the best. Oh captain my captain. How damn intimate and sweet it is as he does as such. Then resting his head back on hers. Telling her ‘It’s ok.’ His hand in her hair rubbing her back soothingly. I cannot. Lucy was alone last time. Grieved alone and dealt with everything solo.

Now she never has to be alone again and I wanna cry at that thought. Getting emotional at how beautiful this hug is. Lovely ray of sunshine in a rather dark finale. I love this scene so much it made my chest hurt. You want to see outstanding chemistry in a short amount of time? Watch this scene. Melissa and Eric are glorious together. We truly are so lucky to have them as our ship. This is such a soft and gentle moment.

Tim pulling her in and wanting to comfort her has me all in my feels. Lucy has this wonderful man to catch her when she falls now. To be able to absolutely come apart in his arms. Knowing he’ll be there to comfort and keep her together when she does. Gah I love them so much. Also A + to whoever does the music. The song in this moment is adding to the emotional depth of the scene. Amazingly good. It’s been so on point in this season. They need a raise whoever does this.

They finally have some suspects to track down. Violent felons that have connection to the station and to them as a group. Lucy offers to check on one by herself. Grey says no and Tim offers to go with her. Because he loves her and wants to keep her in his sights. They’ve all been attacked at this point. Except for him and Lucy. No way he’s letting her go solo. It’s not cause he didn’t trust her to handle herself. He can’t handle her going alone. His instincts on high alert.

Lucy telling Tim he should be out knocking down doors with Metro. Tim tells her 'He’s good'. As good as he can be without letting her out of his sights during this. Only they could so effortlessly flirt while on duty. In the middle of an intense OP. Lucy letting him know she doesn’t need him to protect her. Tim is very aware of this. Says he knows. Lucy turning this moment into some very cute light banter. Saying he is telling her he needs the protecting. Tim being sassy right back with his reply above. God I love them.

Their teasing and banter is iconic. Lucy’s next line is fantastic. I know we haven’t had an official ILY you yet. But they’ve said it so many different ways this season. In moments such as this. When we do officially get it not gonna be a shock to either of them. Tim telling her 'Back at you.' Making me all emotional. They are such a power couple and the next portion of this episode proves that. I’ve always said watching them in the field is poetry in motion. This next battle scene is literal proof of such.

It’s a good thing Tim came with her. I don’t want to think what would’ve happened if she’d been alone. The creepy crowd coming at them. My stomach dropped. First Tim willing to sacrifice himself for her so she could get away. *heart clutch* Man would die for her and not even blink in the decision making process. Lucy of course will not allow this whatsoever. Valiant or not he’s not falling on his sword for her.

We get a nice call back to 1x18. Not only with Lucy saying they need to go to higher ground. Like he taught her in that ep but to show no mercy. Tim instructing they hurt as many as they can and then retreat upstairs. Lucy getting exactly what he’s saying because they’re simpatico. This entire scene shows that. Also LOVE Lucy saying they only stand a chance TOGETHER. Theme of this season right here. They're better together. Damn right.

What a bad ass battle couple we have. Look at this scene. Lucy calling the audibles in this moment and Tim following her play. Repeating it back and saying 'Copy that.' Gah I love this so very much. Tim trusts her gut without question. Not a doubt in his mind to go with it. The amount of respect he has for her in the field is immense. He was going to stay behind she said no. Then Tim instantly followed her lead after that.

Damnit I love them so much. Tim’s instinct is to always protect Lucy. Where her's is to protect them both in this moment. It’s never because he thinks she can’t handle it. Tim just can’t handle the idea of losing her if he doesn’t. Started from the bottom now we're here and I’m emotional. Also the song once again killer during this epic scene.

Love her touching his arm before they engage in battle in that first one. Look at them in the final two above. I know Eric said they had a blast filming this. They are so damn in-sync. It's such an amazing thing to watch them take these people on. Like I've sad many times before poetry in motion when they're in the field. I love getting to watch the well oiled machine that is them. This was that on steroids ha

Eric was so excited for us to watch this scene and I can see why. It so fun to watch. Taking these guys apart together one at a time. I LOVE Lucy taking that guy out and then grabbing his riot shield. Tim is starting to get overwhelmed and she makes work of what's around her. Running towards Tim getting that guy off her man. With a very impressive shove might I add. Sends him flying down the stairs with the others. They have to start retreating up the stairs after this. They are slowly running out of ammo as well. Backup has yet to arrive and they're battling the best they can to stay alive till it does.

Harper and Nolan finally arrive on scene. Nyla tells John to get to them. She is going to get her sniper rifle even the odds a bit. Unfortunately even with higher ground they’re getting ambushed from all sides now. It's now all melee combat at this point without ammo. Tim takes a guy out with pepper spray and gets a guy off his girl.

Who is literally choking the life out of her. Tim dispatches this guy with any remaining rage he has left. Smashing this guy's face into the wall. Making sure he can't get up to get back to her. All the while Harper being a bad ass snipping people left and right for Tim. This scene is epic af. I love it so much. One of my all time field scenes for sure. They did a damn good job with this holy cow.

Then we get an other beautiful parallel from 1x01 to now. When Lucy pulled Tim to safety mid battle. We get to see Tim do the same for her. The way Tim scoops Lucy up and carries her to safety. I’m not crying you are.... Power couple since day one they just didn’t know it yet. The way he picks her up and then shields her with his body. Gah it’s so good.

When the door opens Tim is worried it’s another bad guy. He shields Lucy with his body. Ready to take a hit to keep her protected. Not willing to let them get at her again. I’m sobbing everyone. The instinct to always protect one another. I’m drowning in feels over here in the best way. Nolan ushers them to safety. Never been happier to see John Nolan in my life LOL

They make it to the stairway battered and bruised. Gasping for air as they try to recover from what just happened. Let’s look at the no space between them when they land on the stairs. Tim reaching out for her instantly. Placing his hand on her thigh checking on her. TWICE might I add. He touches her twice there. While checking around to make sure they’re truly safe. Lucy reaches out for his hand on the first touch. Also their heads touching as well in that first gif. Gah this mini moment has so much to it.

Tim is grounding himself in this moment through those touches. Making sure Lucy is breathing and he can stand down to catch his own breath. Such an intimate moment after an incredibly intense battle. He almost lost her so he is reaching out and making sure she’s ok. He also needs to touch her to settle himself. It was to tell her we’re ok now’s and to confirm to himself she was as well. Damnit it's so good. Don't tell me one of Tim’s biggest love languages isn’t physical touch. It for sure is.

Our last shot of the season for them. Just a BAMF couple post battle. Height difference that I love so much. The check in’s they do walking away knowing this could've been so much worse. Battle worn and bruised. These shots always hit harder knowing they’re together. I would like to think they would fuss over each other's wounds at the hospital. Or at home. We shall see what S6 brings for that if anything regarding it. If not sure someone will write a fic. LOL

The lack of personal space as they walk from the scene always floors me. As close they can possibly be at the moment. Sure Tim is thanking his lucky stars he came with her. I don’t wanna imagine what would’ve happened had he not. Or what Tim would’ve done had something happened. They looks so exhausted they’ve earned a good snuggle and some alone time. Sadly they're still in the middle of case so that's a no go.

Look at our power couple everyone. They're ours. We get to have them. And have a season to look forward to. I was so nervous about the season ending. Knowing this strike could last a long time and it did. Luckily we are coming out of it. Light is at the end of the tunnel. Looking forward to S6 and all the squeeing to come with it.

~~~~

Side notes non-Chenford

This episode one giant stress. One of them being when they try and take Harper’s daughter. The panic in my soul for her. My goodness this finale was great.

All of Celina's scene with Aaron pulling at my feels as well.

Thank you everyone once again who supported these reviews. They started out as a way to fill time between S5 and S6. Became a truly fun hobby for me. Kinda sad the ride is over but like I said at the beginning I’ll do mini reviews each week for s6 won’t be rid of that easily ❤️❤️ Can’t wait to delve in S6 with you all :)

#Caitlin Rewatches The Rookie #chenford #chenford hiatus #waiting on s6 #winter rewatch #s5 #5x22 Under Siege #the rookie 5x22 #otp: doing my job #otp: you know me so well. too well. #otp: some things matter more #otp: you did good #otp: you're nothing like him #otp: just doesn't feel like pretend #otp: unless it is #tim x lucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #lucy x tim #eric winter #melissa o'neil #the rookie #tim bradford x lucy chen

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

I don't mean to be mean or rude but there were these people in my class who were wearing like REALLY revealing clothes and I've gotten an idea: How would yandere class 1A react to the reader who's usually an introvert suddenly wearing really revealing clothing since she wants to be noticed and doesn't want to be viewed as an introvert anymore? Tbh, this is actually what I'm thinking rn... it's like if I want to be noticed in my college these days, that's the step I'll have to take but I don't feel comfortable wearing such revealing clothes

~#~#~#~ Just a happy reminder that everyone is allowed to wear whatever they want, whenever they want! You can wear t-shirts, sweatpants, miniskirts, high heels, platforms, formal dresses, boxers, thongs; you can even walk around naked! I wouldn't recommend being fully nude outside, but you do you. Anyways, clothes don't determine who you are or what you identify as! ~#~#~#~

Also, I know you wrote Reader in your ask as female identifying (she/her), but I am going to continue writing them as gender neutral! Let me know if you have a problem with that.

✩࿐ Let's go! ✩࿐

〈〈═════»❣❤❣«═════〉〉

So, for starters, let's talk about the school days. Since the uniforms are pretty standard, it's a little hard to spruce them up to be "skimpier". If you choose to wear the women's uniform, you could pull up the skirt further up your hips so the hem brushes the tops of your thighs. Could even doll yourself up with a few accessories in your hair, on the clothes, or even some jewelry. If you choose to wear the men's uniform, you could pull a Bakugo by not wearing the tie or unbutton the top few buttons of your uniform. Show a little cleavage (both pecs and boobs can have cleavage. I don't discriminate between cleavage; all types are delicious 🤤). Paint your nails, wear some makeup; anything you can really!

Now, since most of the class keeps a close eye on you 24/7, they're gonna notice every little thing you do to yourself. From the way you wear your hair, to the shoes you skip down the halls in, to the exact scents you use for your shampoo and body sprays; nothing is secret to them. So, when they notice for the first time that your skirt's riding a little higher than normal, or they're getting a face full of your pec cleavage, their minds are flying all over the place. Everyone is going to have their eyes unconsciously drift to you every so often, or they're on you all the time.

Izuku and Uraraka are just blushing up a storm. Deku cannot stop looking at you—or, rather, your exposed skin. He swears he doesn't mean to be a pervert! You just look...so soft. It's killing him. He just wants to nuzzle up to you and forget the school day all together. When you try to talk to him throughout the day, he's just a ball of stutters, nervous giggles, and never-ending mumbles. But as soon as you turn your back, he is writing in his notebook, scribbling outfits that show the same amount (or even more) skin you're showing now that he believes you would look ethereal in. He also cannot stop writing things along the lines of 'They look so cute.', 'I can't look at them again! It's too much!', and 'How can I tell them how I feel when seeing them like this makes me forget my words?'

Ochaco's no better. She can't stop thinking about how sweet your thighs look. And how when you sit down, your skirt rides even higher up. You're such a little tease, can you even fathom what you're doing to her?! She's losing her mind; she's practically two seconds away from getting down on one knee and proposing to you right now. She's sighing in a puppy love manor, writing her name and your name together in the last page of her notebook. She's drawing little stick figures that are supposed to be you and her kissing, holding hands, hugging, basically doing everything together. Hearts and sparkles drawn in a pink glittery gel pen are everywhere on the page of art she has dedicated to you.

Some people are a little more uptight than others COUGH COUGH Iida COUGH COUGH and are gonna hound you throughout the day. The second you walk into the class, he is all over you. Iida's stuttering something about fixing your attire, something about how you are in a professional academy and you can't walk around looking like that and blah blah blah. Everything that is coming out of his mouth is just a flimsy coverup to try and hide the rapidly spreading blush seeping across his cheeks. How can you do this to him?!?! As the class president, he is ashamed of how he can't stop his eyes from drifting all across your body, but he can't stop. He desperately tries to focus on your adorable face, but he doesn't know how much longer he can keep up the façade of being a proper gentleman.

His commotion to your attire draws the attention of the rest of your friends. The room is then split between a mixture of squeals and yelling, and dead silence.

Across the class, Todoroki is falls quieter than usual. It's unnerving, he's acting like how he was the first few weeks of class, aloof and unapproachable. On the outside, he doesn't show much (what's new), but on the inside it's simultaneously a raging typhoon and a fervent volcanic eruption all at once. He feels his body heat up to a scorchingly dangerous level, and drop to a frost-biting chill in a matter of seconds. Shoto's poor brain can't wrap around what he's seeing. His darling, his everything, is fully on display (you are nowhere near that level, you're just showing a tiny amount more of skin LOL) for his eyes to see. It's like he's reached nirvana. He feels all warm and fuzzy inside, though his outside is still a staggering contrast of temperatures.

Bakugo cannot decide whether to be angry at you or angry at his idiot classmates. As he finally breaks his gaze from you, he watches the class's faces shift into hunger and desire and he decides. Yep. He's angrier at them than he is at you. But he understands where their desire is coming from. He's in the same sinking boat. He wants to look at your forever; say 'fuck it' to the lessons that day, scoop you into his arms, and run back to the dorms to hide you away for only him to see. He feels his palms heat up and leak sweat like a faucet from both the anxiety of how gorgeous you look and from the aggression of wanting to beat everyone around him into pulps for daring to peek at what’s his. He yells at everyone to stop their clamoring, shoving his face down to stare at the desk instead of your fucking cute nervous expression.

Kirishima is slack-jawed, heart-eyed. The real life combination of these two emojis: 😳😍. He's literally dying to feel how soft your skin is as he scans your body over and over again. It's like a song on repeat in his mind, encouraging his eyes to soak up as much of you as he can, forcing him to do it all over again multiple times. He feels like a cringy and awkward middle schooler seeing the contents of a pervy magazine, or a semi-naked person, for the first time. Then, it hits him. Kirishima isn't alone in seeing this newfound expanse of your body. As soon as that registers in his mind, he flips on a 180° and wants nothing more than to pull your skirt down or button your shirt himself. He wants to protect you from the disgusting eyes gaping at you. Kirishima snaps his jaw closed and bites his lip to keep in the growl forming at the back of his throat. His mind calculates all the people witnessing your beauty. He thinks he wants this image all to himself.

Denki, Sero, and Mina are panting like freaking dogs. They are eating up how you dressed today. Denki is privately thanking whatever god influenced you to dress yourself in this way today. Mina is squealing inside and out, thinking about how she feels like she's the main character in one of those romance manga she reads and how you're dressing like that to catch her attention alone (you’re not, but her theory is what she chooses to believe). Sero can't stop grinning all day because of how sweet you are, dressing in that manor to steal his attention (again, you’re not, but oh well). The two boys might even try to sneak a picture of you, but Mina quickly shuts that behavior down and makes them delete the photos thank goodness for our girlboss.

Tsu, Momo, Jiro, and Hagakure all cannot work up the courage to say how absolutely alluring you look today. Maybe they'll say it in flippant passing, but they cannot put into words how you truly make them feel. They’re antsy and nervously giggling all day whenever you get close, so much so that you think they have a fever. They’re just flustered because you’re stunning. Please don’t take their lack of words negatively! They’re obsessed with you, and that possessiveness clouds their better judgement at times. Secretly, they’re all planning how to successfully sneak into your dorm room and steal an item of your clothes to keep. Tsu and Hagakure are not known as the leading stealth heroes of Class 1-A for nothing~.

✩࿐

At first, they all thought it was an accident. Maybe you were just a little clumsy dressing yourself this morning! Maybe you're overly stressed and didn't even notice that you're showing more of yourself than you ever have! Yeah, that has to be it.

They only get concerned when you start to dress like this outside of school as well. Don't get them wrong, you look incredible (all of them are constantly drooling at the sight of the amount of skin you are showing off. They want to stroke, caress, pinch, and even bite every bit of it.), but they are worried. Ever since they first met you, you'd been so shy and reserved, so, why are you dressing so provocatively now?

Short skirts, crop tops, low cut shirts, everything under the sun that showed a little more and more was what you suddenly exclusively wore. Again, they know you can wear whatever you want to wear, but what happened to their shy (Y/N)?

A few of the girls sit down with you one day and have a chat about your shift in attire. You explain your dilemma to them, and they resonate with your change in demeanor. It's hard being labeled as one thing, and when you try to branch out to try something different, you’re looked at strangely. The change you choose to make my not be acknowledged in a positive light. They reassure you that they all love the style you're trying out, and how you look to die for, but you do not have to completely change who you are for anyone else.

Being comfortable in your own skin correlates with the clothes you wear that make you feel the most, well, you! If dressing in thinner, smaller fabric is what you enjoy now, then go right ahead! If you find that the former isn't working for you anymore, and you wish to dress in baggier, less attention-catching clothes, rock on. Whatever you wear, they will support you the best they can.

Though, that doesn't stop them from lashing out at creeps who stare at you for a bit too long~

〈〈═════»❣❤❣«═════〉〉

WHEEW. DAMN! I hope you guys like it. To the asker, I hope I fulfilled what you were looking for! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day! :)

#ask #anonymous #anime #manga #mha #bnha #x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere mha x reader #yandere bnha x reader #class 1a #class 1a x reader #yandere class 1a x reader #yandere izuku x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere shoto x reader #fanfiction

[lizaluvsthis]

My Hyperfixations about the topic Western Spaghetti and WOTFI 2023

My main focus on the 'SIMULATION' that might also have involve tv adware to be doing it all on purpose.

SO UMM- I WAS THINKING...

Western Spaghetti and WOTFI 2023 seem to connect with the antagonist "TV Adware" that first came from ITS GOTTA BE PERFECT

I was thinking- since meggy lived in a simulation where One Shot Wren made I also thought from the other people's theories from youtube and also here- that- what if the whole SMG4 HAS ALSO BECOME AN ENTIRE SIMULATION RUNNED BY THE TV ADWARE TOO???

I'm just saying- just saying- if it were ever...

Western spaghetti movie is shown how Tari was self aware and is sure enough that she could tell it was a simulation since she is a human robot type.

And in the other of the episodes where tari is after western spaghetti, she seems to appear all scared and weak again. So this might have made me cost another theory- cuz tari got her development from western spaghetti-

Why not in the other episode after that? Literally smg4's new castle is shown where tari and luigi appeared to be scared again- where is her bravery?

And with that said to me- I mightve thought deeper after the ending on WOTFI 2023 TV adware shows up. What makes me rethink about- is that why are bob, boopkins, shroomy, luigi, any hell of the characters are inside of the building and works for Mario?

Why did it suddenly reminded me about how Bob and boopkins were criminals from western spaghetti and in wotfi 2023 these two work for mario- dont get me wrong here- I felt like some thing was weird from the very beginning after Mario stole SMG3's notebook.

All I could think about- was that WOTFI 2023 and Western Spaghetti NEVER existed to them- as in they NEVER knew NEVER been or NEVER have experienced and NEVER remembered.

That almost as if they return to their normal lives again to play on loop like they stayed in their usual characters, without the development they had.

I know you guys did noticed the hint they put in smg3's lair where SMG4's western hat is shown, well what if I tell you it was just a display that SMG3 didnt even knew it belonged to SMG4?

What if I told you that western hat didnt even made it to the movie? This western hat that belonged to smg4 belongs to him ONLY. And this hat is part of the 'simulation'

Breaking through after meggy's awaken from the pod- where everyone was... they didnt WEAR their western outfits after that.

The first ever time they both wore their western outfits is the first episode before western spaghetti called "Ready to ride?"

Knowing that its already been a simulation from the start seeming that tari knows and tried to break through the thick barrier.

The episode SMG3's bomb cafe showed smg3's lair that he had the western hat. Again. The western hat belongs to smg4. How? Its barely been shown from the episode nor even western spaghetti that smg4 gave him the hat or smg3 stealing it.

It's just right there. A hint. A hint that reminded a simulation they were stuck in.

When SMG3 made this comment. I never thought much about it after my first time watching western spaghetti but now that I repeated it over and over again? I finally came into making a theory.

What if after wotfi 2023 SMG3 is his turn to be the one whose self aware?

Surely you guys know Mario is in prison with Marty (was it?) After getting locked up in jail, Mario doesnt know and he just follows basically anything what marty says. Until. It was shown from Marty's flashback that the notebook was deliberately sent to him on purpose by a printer that also happens to have the SAME exact logo.

Considerately the antagonist TV adware is sure to want and put SMG4's whole crew or lives in danger not by anyone noticing it but us who sees it.

So like during the movie of ITS GOTTA BE PERFECT thats where tv adware appears as probably his minion sent out to SMG4's pc to advertise him a seemingly sing but suspicious keyboard to where SMG4 needed it.

I might've thought about it. When the keyboard affected SMG4 he continues his editing non stop and even put a LIVE cam behind him seeing how many days was it? I dont remember. But the count down.

I may have think- hmm... what if just a single watch from the video while SMG4 is live the people have been hypnotized that their actual bodies were separated to them and that the Tv adware already HAD their bodies but stuck on the new so called simulation that would be on progress.

It may seem prettyyyt suspicious to me cuz

When tari says THIS line? To wren?

I knew something was definitely up.

Sure he used the other minions of his own from the simulation bringing them into the living realm (aka where tari and meggy and rest of the crew were)

Wren knows to himself he cant control much of it since- it IS only given to him he doesn't CONTROL ALL. He CONTROLS THE PODS. And have his own virtual control where he's always number one.

So like probably. Tv adware did this on purpose to one shot wren. To get on to something more different. Cause Tv adware appeared when One Shot Wren was young and meaning Meggy Spletzer is still a small kid, meaning that was before SMG4 or even SMG3 existed/landed in the realm.

Tv adware knows it. They knew everything. They set up pods that were in the exact NUMBER of smg4's crew.

It looked like he NEEDED. Them for something more.

Than just a puppet with or without a string.

He's been there from the very beginning.

Observing. Every move.

I dont know what if SMG3 DID also realized at that moment- where he said it felt like hes been asleep for a 100 years is actually true?

What if he did remembered and broke from the simulation tv adware is holding onto- and started seeing it like how tari did?

Although its impossible it would be if he noticed a pinch of it. He cant just NOT forget about the notebook that mario STOLE from him and put him into jail. And immediately got busted out after wotfi 2023.

-

Again the simulation cant be brought to the real world. Meaning it has already been brought to the real world before this, and I think tv adware needed this as an opportunity to take hints and also let people notice this small topic.

As said, the simulation and the real world are too complicated. Meaning if the simulation is brought to the realworld it would probably mess up the time or cut its world like a fabric. This is what Tari is surely aware of. The simulation.

Just a wrong doing from messing it up, might lead everything into consequences from the future.

And what if we actually got a bad ending in wotfi 2023? Would there be more screenshow of tv adware? Or do we just keep watching the movie like it never even bothered much?

I just felt it- Tari never wouldve knew tv adware had control over hers as well because she IS living in the real world, like a puppet. And puppets also have temporary strings attached that also leads from her not knowing this is normal. And that nothing is wrong.

The temporary string may have not worked due to Wren's control but tv adware controls EVERYTHING.

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

ƏVĚŘŶÞĤĮṄĜ

#lizaluv #smg3 #smg4 #mario #conspiracy theories #smg4 theory #tv adware #western spaghetti #wotfi 2023 #smg4 wotfi #smg4 smg3

[askganon]

I'm really tired. I just transferred to a new university to study psychology and it has been the actual worst experience in every aspect. The two biggest issues are the fact that I am autistic and thusly have issues making friends, and that I have this god-awful professor in my counseling class.

This professor is OFF his rocker. He actively talks about the secret society he is in, trying to teach us preposterous things that have no place in that class or even the school at all. I could write a novel about every problematic thing he has said, but my most major issue with him is how he views and treats women, and continuously brings sexual topics up when they have no relevance to the course material.

He has disrespected his wife over the phone in the middle of class and then tried to justify his behavior using his gender, spoken extensively about what features men don't like on women such as makeup or plastic surgery. He says "natural" women are "healthy" (well-endowed) in either the chest or behind but not both, and are uneven in the chest. He specifically targeted my classmate, who was the only one wearing false eyelashes, to say that men don't like that either.

Another time he told us that women run the world because men are obsessed with us, that we are not oppressed at all, yet he turns around and tells us how women in the corporate world go commando under their skirts and sleep around to work up the corporate ladder. He says this in a way that puts women to shame for this as well.

This week, though, was completely different. His departure from the course material started with the extremely invasive question, "what do you remember about your transition to adolescence?" Again targeting that very same classmate. I blink and he is now telling us that the male experience during puberty is far worse than what women experience, basically saying that—excuse my bluntness—getting a boner in class is much worse than anything women go through, even turning to our singular male classmate for backup on this.

He also tries to tell us that its so so bad for boys because the girls actively try to touch them or make them "psychologically disturbed," as he worded so decoratively. What adolescent girl wants anything to do with that when she's going through her own problems? Since when were young girls going out of their way to trouble boys like this? I was actively trying to deter boys during this time.

I and the other two women in my class were disputing all of this, until our professor finally said, "I will just let that go over y'all heads cause you will never understand the male experience," to which I, shaking with rage, replied, "—and vice versa."

My mental health has been suffering severely, and much worse since this happened Monday. I had never felt such pure, primordial rage towards someone before. This man makes me feel not only objectified but also demonized. Last night was my breaking point, working on one of his assignments. I experienced the most intense mental breakdown of my life so far, and afterwards spent all but two hours of the night trying to cram the project that was due today.

I guess my point is that I would report him, but my school makes it nigh impossible to do so. I'm perpetually exhausted and I do not know if I can make it through the last two weeks of class. I want so badly to be petty and spiteful to his face, but for the most part I've controlled it.

I don't really know what I'm looking for by doing this. I guess I just want to know what you think? Apologies for the length of my message.

Such is the mentality I encountered often in my youth by Hylian men, and women, toward my sisters. They would lust after my sisters based on their attire and physique, while also attempting to demonize them and ostracize them for the exact same reasons.

In short, men are cowards who carry the darkest urges shamelessly, but are too prideful to admit the problem within themselves. Instead, the vilify women for their own indiscretions.

They will openly mock my Gerudo for their appearance, while desiring nothing more than to own their flesh in the most disturbing of ways.

This professor seems like a prime example of the Hylian males I encountered. But if this is the case, then so too is his weakness.

He has likely been thwarted in his past in his attempts to procure a mate to his liking, and due to his pride, he believes it is all of womanhood to blame, and not himself.

This one he singles out is likely similar to those he desired but could never obtain in his youth. As such, he blames all others for his own shortcomings.

Likely too with his mate. I would assume her physique does not fit the desires he now feels entitled to, and as such he makes her the target of his criticism.

But through all of this, he reveals a second weakness.

Fear.

He fears that which he cannot control, and women as a whole seem out of his grasp. Every slight, every jab, and every assault from his lips is but proof that he is afraid of what women are capable.

In the midst of a Gerudo warrior, this professor of yours would crumble like kindling to a flame.

Take solace in the knowledge that you are superior to this worm, for you are what he can never have.

#Ganondorf #Legend of Zelda

[smileydk]

''Noona and Hyung should marry!''

Pairing: Idol!Beomgyu x OC

Summary: Beomgyu has to work at a kids café for some kind of promotion for his band. Jiwoo is partially forced and partially happy to bring her newphew to the very same kids café.

cw/tw: fluff, crack, k-drama shit, oral (m, f), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it if you wanna tap it), car sex, tummy bulge, kissing, hickeys, orgasm denial (kind of?)

Note: Based on the youtube video obviously. Not gonna be exact since we need some romance.

''Noona!'' Changmin screamed as he ran through the house.

Jiwoo chuckled to herself. She was playing hide and seek with the boy and was currently sitting in his closet. Changmin had been screaming Noona for 3 minutes while he searched, and Jiwoo had zero intentions to reply.

His small feet could be heard outside the closet, they tapped against the carpet as he ran around the room, looking everywhere he possibly could.

''Noona?'' His voice was breaking.

''Fuck'' Jiwoo mumbled to herself and opened the closet. ''Changmin, I'm here'' She wrapped her arms around his small body and smiled as sweetly as she possibly could.

''Why didn't you answer me when I screamed?'' Changmin glared at the older woman.

Sometimes Jiwoo forgot that Changmin was only 3 since he was very bright, but then again, at moments like these his actual age showed.

''Because we were playing hide and seek. It wouldn't have been fun if you knew where I hid, would it?''

Changmin sniffled and wiped his eyes. He pouted slightly but nodded slowly.

While the two just sat in Changmin’s room his single father, Changkyun, and Jiwoo’s brother peeked inside the room.

''Jiwoo, would you mind taking Changmin to KiCa today? I’ve gotta go to work. Some paper work I, apparently, forgot the other day''

''Wow, the Kim Changkyun didn’t do all his paper work in time? I’m so telling mom about this'' Jiwoo teased.

Changkyun was a brain surgeon. He finished his education at the young age of 30. Despite his young age he was a very skilled surgeon. Jiwoo was proud of him, but she also saw it as her duty to keep his ego to a minimum.

''That didn’t answer my question. Can you take him or not?''

Jiwoo nodded. ''Of course. If I get the car''

Yes. Jiwoo lived with her brother. Why? Simply because they had a great relationship and because she was a broke college student. It was hard to make enough money to live in Seoul while also studying at Seoul university.

Jiwoo had saved since she was a little child so she could get into the best of the best, and she got some money with her scholarship. She wanted to become an attorney, after being 19 and seeing Extraordinary Attorney Woo.

Yes, a k-drama was the reason.

Besides, it was Changkyun’s proposal that Jiwoo moved in with him. His idea was that she could help him out with Changmin, and she gets to live with them. Plus his apartment was close to university.

''But I'm going across town!'' Changkyun exclaimed. ''And you know, it's mine!''

''Fine! Where is KiCa anyways?''

''It takes 10 minutes with the bus, come on, you've been there before! Dumbass. The new workers there are your age. Find a boyfriend'' Changkyun smiled sweetly as he threw on his coat. ''See you later, sis! Might wanna put on something other than that mini-skirt, it's cold outside''

Jiwoo turned to her nepwhew. ''Your appa is mean, Noona can wear whatever she wants''

''I know, you look pretty, let's go to KiCa!'' Changmin was very excited. He adored the place. He was quick to put on his shoes and jacket. Jiwoo wasn't even by the door when he was done, and the three year old was impatient.

''Noona! Hurry up!'' Changmin jumped.

''Calm down, Changmin-ah, I'm coming. KiCa doesn't open for another 20 minutes'' Jiwoo put on her favorite knee-high boots. They were a gift from Changkyun on her birthfay, and she basically lived in them at ths point. And then she threw on her leather jacket.

''Noona looks like a kpop idol. But Noona is also the slowest person on this planet'' Changmin complained as Jiwoo finally opened the front door.

''Yah, I can also stay home which means you have to stay home'' Jiwoo raised a daring eyebrow.

''Sorry Noona! Let's go, please'' He pouted.

''Aish, fine'' The woman couldn't say no when he pouted.

A small, happy squeal left Changmin's lips as they got on the bus. He hadn't seen his friends in so long! He missed them so much. He also really wanted to play in the dirt! And have P.E with the work-Hyung.

As they got off the bus, and Changmin bowed politely at the driver, he broke into a sprint. The Kids Café was right by the bus stop. Jiwoo chuckled slightly as she jogged to catch up.

Changmin pulled gently at the door to check if they'd opened. The door opened with ease and the boy's smile widened. He rushed towards the elevator and immediately pressed the button.

''Noona, hurry! The elevator will be here any second! I wanna meet Juhyeon!''

Jiwoo chuckled as she nodded. She sped up her walk and reached the boy just as the elevator dinged, signaling it was on their floor.

Changmin quickly pushed the button to the KiCa floor and the elevator doors closed. As the display showed the floors ticking by Changmin only grew more excited.

Jiwoo had been at the KiCa before and she knew the ones who worked there, kind of. According to Changkyun there were a few new faces, but when they entered she spotted the old workers, and an unfamiliar head.

He turned around and Jiwoo's eyes were as wide as saucers.

''Choi Beomgyu'' She mumbled to herself.

''You must be Changmin'' He smiled and leaned down to put a name sticker on the boy's chest.

Changmin nodded happily, not frightened by the unfamiliar face. He had always loved meeting new people. He was a social butterfly. ''Yeah! I'm Changmin, what's your name, Hyung?''

''Beomgyu'' Beomgyu smiled as the three year old nodded, before he quickly walked into the playroom to join his friends in whatever they were doing.

Jiwoo took a seat in the café area. She got herself a fruit tea before pulling out her phone. She was usually bored out of her mind since Changmin spent the full hour at this place, and she couldn't leave during that one hour.

She was facing the little window they had, which showed the play area. She chuckled to herself as Beomgyu clearly tried his best at bonding with the children, without much success.

Beomgyu looked up from his failed bonding attempt and spotted the laughing girl. He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms. Jiwoo tried her best to not laugh at him, but it was hard when he pouted like a five year old kid.

Changmin spotted his Aunt looking through the window with an amused grin. ''That's my Noona. Appa says she's single and needs to find a boyfriend. Hey, you're pretty, are you single?''

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. ''Changmin, your Noona is very pretty''

''Wait here'' Changmin stood up. He dusted off the dirt on his clothes before he rushed out to Jiwoo.

''Changmin, what did you do?''

''Work-hyung, I can't remember his name, thinks you're pretty! Come on, I'll introduce you!'' Changmin grabbed Jiwoo's skirt and tugged gently.

''Changmin, I can't be in there. I can talk to him la-''

Before Jiwoo could finish her sentence Changmin had walked back into the playroom. He walked straight up to Beomgyu, who had now managed to make a little girl cry, grabbed his arm and gave it a harsh tug.

''I'm gonna introduce you to Noona!''

Beomgyu's only thought was that at least one child seemed to like him, even if it was because he wanted to match him with his Noona.

He pulled him outside and forced Beomgyu to sit. ''Get to know each other. I'm gonna play with Juhyeon'' Changmin smiled sweetly before taking of once more.

Jiwoo looked after her nephew with a confused look. She had no idea what his plan was, but she was sure she didn't like it.

Beomgyu also looked quite confused. ''You're a mom!?'' Was the first thing he exclaimed. Not "hi" like the normal person would.

''Aren't you too young to be a mom? And too beautiful?'' He continued and winked before he leaned back, trying to act cool.

A small chuckle left Jiwoo's lips. ''Nope, I'm his aunt. Why he calls me Noona is a mystery. And do you mean mom's aren't beautiful?'' She raised an eyebrow.

She was born a tease. It didn't make it better that she was almost 10 years younger than her older brother, meaning she could tease without any consequence.

''No! I didn't mean it like that- don't twist my words!'' Beomgyu sat up with furrowed eyebrows. He enjoyed meeting someone who a) weren't his members and b) someone who didn't treat him like a global superstar.

''I'm not twisting your words. I'm creating my own interpretation'' Jiwoo shrugged and put her phone away as well as her Airpods.

''So, Ms. Tease, got a name?''

''Yeah, don't you? I thought everyone had a name'' Jiwoo raised her eyebrow again, knowing very well that she probably got on his nerves.

''I would like to know it if you would like to tell me'' Beomgyu took a deep breath. She was a bit too good at teasing.

''Kim Jiwoo, I know you're Choi Beomgyu. Must say, big fan, and you look damn taller without the other giants in your group'' Jiwoo stretched out her hand for Beomgyu to shake. ''What is Mr. Superstar doing here? At KiCa? And what in the world did you do to make that girl cry?''

''I'm here... why am I here? I have no idea. And she started'' Beomgyu mumbled in an accusing tone, as if he wasn't almost four times her age.

''Ah yes, the four year old girl probably deserved a grown man fake-crying in her face'' Jiwoo chuckled as Beomgyu tried explaining himself. ''I think that's some kind of record''

Beomgyu narrowed his eyes at her. ''You're actually worse than Yeonjun-Hyung''

''It's a talent'' She flipped her hair dramatically, causing it to whip Beomgyu in the face.

''Are you always this rude?'' Beomgyu raised and eyebrow and leaned closer to her.

''Yep'' Jiwoo wouldn’t admit it, but he made her a little nervous.

''Beomgyu-ssi, I told you to clean the shoes. It's a punishment for making a girl cry'' One of the, female, workers scolded Beomgyu.

''Fine''

20 minutes later Beomgyu finished cleaning the children’s, very dirty, shoes. And the other workers decided he'd probably do better in the "P.E" room.

Why?

Mostly boys, and apparently the boys were a bit more hardcore. And because the P.E room was a lot more… well physical and less sitting still.

Beomgyu put name tags on the boys as they lined up after each other.

''Are you a female teacher or a male teacher?'' One of the kids asked, causing Jiwoo to burst out laughing.

''Yah, Seoan, he's clearly a man'' Changmin protected Beomgyu as he spoke. ''Men can also have long hair, and be very pretty!''

''Thank you, Changmin'' Beomgyu patted his head and glared slightly at Jiwoo as she still laughed.

''Yes Beomgyu, you’re a very pretty man'' Jiwoo snickered as Beomgyu still looked a little offended.

''I know. Now stop laughing at me''

Jiwoo raised her hands and nodded.

''Good girl'' Beomgyu disappeared into the playroom with the four boys.

Jiwoo did not enjoy the fact that him calling her that had such an affect on her. Nor did she like that the comment basically went straight to her core.

''Fuck''

''Yah! You can’t just leave me here!'' Beomgyu whined as the staff and crew from HYBE packed into the car.

''You made a girl cry. Yeonjun said you deserve it'' One if the producers shrugged and closed the car door. ''Here’s a few bills for the bus. Have a good time''

''Hey, Mr. Superstar, need help?''

Beomgyu turned around and found Jiwoo standing in front of him, holding Changmin’s hand.

He was slightly embarrassed, since he came from Daegu he didn’t know the bus system that well Seoul. In his defense they never took the bus in Seoul, someone always drove them around.

''Uhm… yeah?''

''Me and Changmin are heading home and uhm… hopefully Changkyun’s back with the car and I can give you a ride to HYBE. Sounds good?''

Beomgyu nodded. As Jiwoo started walking she missed the fact that Beomgyu didn’t follow her.

Changmin noticed. ''Work-Hyung, you coming or not? And stop staring at Noona’s ass''

Jiwoo chuckled to herself as an awkward cough left the man’s lips, followed by some quick steps.

''Noona and Hyung should marry!'' Changmin exclaimed out of the blue.

The two adults looked at the child. ''No. Noona and Beomgyu are friends. Nothing else''

Beomgyu nodded along.

''No, marry'' Changmin pouted.

Jiwoo sighed and shook her head. Sadly Changmin got the genes everyone in the family had. The ones that basically made it impossible to convince you once you'd decided on something.

After the 10 minute bus ride and another bow from Changmin to the bus driver the three found themselves in Changkyun’s luxury apartment.

''Oppa~''

''Yes I’m home, yes you can borrow the car. Key’s in the bowl. Hello Beomgyu''

Changkyun looked up from his phone and waved at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu and Changkyun went to the same high school. Changkyun remembered Beomgyu as a small, adorable, shy nerd.

Now he was 6’1 tall, grew out his hair, grew some muscle, could sing, his voice dropped about 4 octaves, and he wasn’t as shy anymore.

''You got a glow-up. You look a lot better in long hair'' Beomgyu smiled and bowed.

''Thank you~ I’m giving Beomgyu a ride to the HYBE building''

Changkyun smirked. ''Condoms in the glovebox''

Jiwoo flipped him off as she exited the apartment. Beomgyu only followed, and chuckled slightly at Jiwoo’s red cheeks.

During the few hours he’d known her she’d only been an ass, a teasing ass, not that he minded. She was fun to hang out with. But now Ms. Cocky was blushing over something as simple as condoms.

''So… if you’re a fan, whatcha think about my longer hair?''

Jiwoo totally forgot the fact that she was speaking to the Choi Beomgyu. She spoke as if it was her best friend, Sanghoon, in the passanger seat. They always made suggestive, flirty jokes with each other.

''Sexy, easy to pull- I mean… it looks fine''

Beomgyu smirked. He enjoyed every second. ''You think I’m sexy? And your thoughts are what now?''

''What? You are sexy and you know it'' Jiwoo slowed down and stopped outside the HYBE building.

''And you’re sexy as hell'' Beomgyu smirked. ''Here’s my number. Call me''

''Uhm… sure''

Jiwoo never meant to actually call Beomgyu. Not because she didn’t like him. But come on. She was a “normal” person, not famous in any way other than possibly being the sister of the "best surgeon in the world".

Beomgyu was a global superstar. He had millions of fans who adored him, cried as they saw him, spent all of their savings in hope to pull a little piece of paper with his face on.

She was sure he didn’t even give her his real number.

She was convinced he only did it as some kind of thank you, for the ride.

But Changmin found her phone one day, unlocked, wondered who it was and decided to find out himself.

When he realized it was work-Hyung he immediately found his father, told him about the situation and the two quickly went into action. Action meaning: getting Jiwoo a boyfriend.

With other words, Changkyun forced his sister to drive to a place he’d chosen, pick up Beomgyu and drive to another place, which he'd also chosen.

She hadn’t planned for anything that happened that day to actually happen.

It was all her brother’s fault.

She was absolutely not planning on laying on her back in the backseat, Beomgyu’s head burried between her legs. Chest heaving quickly as Beomgyu shoved his tongue between her folds.

Her hands were pulling at Beomgyu’s long locks, making the man smirk, due to the statement she made a few days ago.

As her high was approaching Jiwoo tried closing her legs, which Beomgyu didn’t seem to like. His fingers dug into her plush thighs, forcing them to stay open.

''Fuck~ I am so… close- fuck!''

The man smirked and pulled away from her pussy. He smirked as he wiped his lips. ''You tease me, I tease you, princess'' Jiwoo whined as she felt her orgasm fading away.

''Fuck your legs are sexy, especially in these boots'' Beomgyu ran his nose along her legs, leaving a kiss or hickey along the way.

Jiwoo was embarrassed over how easily he made her wet. But then again. He was Choi Beomgyu. He was basically famous for singing and good looks.

''Changkyun is gonna kill me'' Jiwoo mumbled as Beomgyu continued kissing her legs, which seemed to go on forever in Beomgyu's mind.

A small chuckle left the man’s lips. ''Wasn’t he fhe one who wanted you to do this?''

''Shut up'' Jiwoo whined and punched Beomgyu in the chest. Beomgyu only continued chuckling and leaned closer. He pressed his lips against Jiwoo’s while he allowed his hand to travel south. His ego grew slightly as a high pitched moan left Jiwoo’s lips.

It was dark. The clock might have been 1 in the morning. But someone passed the car, which caused Beomgyu to slap his hand over Jiwoo’s mouth.

The person stopped slightly and turned towards the car.

''Keep walking!'' Beomgyu snapped in a rude tone. The person seemed terrified and disappeared. He removed his right hand, which covered her mouth, while his left hand sped up it's movements.

Beomgyu dipped his head down and started leaving hickeys all over Jiwoo’s neck. Jiwoo’s fingers found Beomgyu’s scalp again and started pulled at his roots.

A small groan left Beomgyu’s lips as her nail scratched against his scalp. He might have enjoyed her pulling his hair a bit too much. ''Fuck that's nice- do that again, princess''

Jiwoo chuckled and repeated the action, forcing another groan from his pink, plump lips.

As Jiwoo felt her orgasm building up again, which didn’t take long due to previous orgasm build up, she clenched around Beomgyu’s long, slender fingers, only he had no intnetions of letting her cum anytime soon. He ripped his fingers from her and smirked.

''Beomgyu!'' Jiwoo whined loudly. ''I swear. If you don’t let me cum soon, I’m doing it myself and forcing you to watch''

''Fine, only because you asked so nicely, princess ''

He pulled down his pants and underwear. He pumped himself a couple of times.

Jiwoo stared with wide eyes. ''That is not gonna fit'' She mumbled to herself.

''We’re gonna make it fit, princess. Hands and knees''

Jiwoo did as ordered. Beomgyu could almost cum from the sight of her on her knees, mouth open and ready for him.

Beomgyu pushed his dick past her lips and immediately let out a groan. Her warm mouth embracing him was almost enough for him to burst right away.

Without a second thought he grabbed her hair and pushed her head all the way. A choked sound left Jiwoo’s lips while Beomgyu thrusted into her mouth.

Beomgyu had a firm grip on her hair, pulling slightly, which forced a moan from Jiwoo’s lips. ''You like that, hm?''

Jiwoo hummed in response, which sent vibrations down his shaft. A loud, throaty groan left his lips. An ego boost on Jiwoo's behalf. She hollowed her cheeks as much as she possibly could.

Beomgyu groaned again, feeling his own orgasm coming. He twitched in her mouth, causing the woman to hollow her cheeks again. His thrusts sped up and a final groan left his lips.

A moment later he came down her throat. As Beomgyu pulled out he groaned at the sight. A string of cum, mixed with saliva, hung between her perfect, pink lips and the tip of his dick.

''Oh my god- best head ever. So your smart mouth is good for something other than snappy remarks''

Jiwoo laid back down on her back, per Beomgyu's demand, and waited for him to do... anything to her.

The man placed his hands by her head. He hovered over her and smirked as he stopped just an inch from her face. He laid his cock across her stomach, groaning to himself.

Jiwoo spotted it as well and a concerned whimper left her lips.

''It's gonna fit, or I'm gonna make it fit'' Beomgyu pumped himself a few times before running the head along her slit.

A whiney moan left her lips and her body jerked slightly. A taunting chuckle left Beomgyu's lips. ''Needy?''

''Yes, please fuck me~''

''Your wish is my command, princess'' Beomgyu chuckled but did as wished.

As he entered her slowly Jiwoo's jaw fell open, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched. ''Fuck- you're too big'' She panted as she could feel him still pushing inside her.

''Come on princess, be a good girl, you can take it''

When he bottomed out he stopped for a moment. Both so that Jiwoo could adjust to him, and to allow his eyes to take in the heavenly look before him. As he let his gaze travel her body, it stopped by her belly.

''My god, you are tiny'' Beomgyu mumbled as he laid his hand on her tummy. His ego grew as he could see his own dick all the way up in her belly.

And the size difference was a bit too hot on Beomgyu’s behalf.

Another whimper left Jiwoo's lips. ''Fuck- please move~''

The man nodded slightly and pulled out slowly. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in, harshly, making the whole car shake.

His ego grew with each moan that left Jiwoo's lips. It grew even more when she moaned his name, loud and clear.

Jiwoo placed her hand over her mouth in an attempt to silence her moans. It didn't do much, but it did something.

Beomgyu chuckled and grabbed her hand. He pinned them both by her head. ''Nuh-uh, I wanna hear those pretty sounds''

Due to the two earlier, almost, orgasms it wasn't hard for the third one to build up. Quickly.

Apparently Beomgyu could tell as well as his hips sped up even more.

If someone was to talk by they'd know right away what was happening. But the two inside the car? Not a single care in the world, except chasing their much needed orgasms.

''Fuck- please let me cum this time'' Jiwoo managed to get out between moans and pants.

''Of course, princess. You've been such a good girl''

Those were all the words Jiwoo needed to hear before she released around Beomgyu. A moment later Beomgyu came inisde her, slowing down his movements to ride out both their highs.

As he pulled out a cocky grin grew on his lips. ''And you said it wouldn't fit''

Jiwoo only punched him in the chest again. A small "ouff" left his lips. ''Fuck you''

''Hey, you texted me first''

''My brother texted you first. I left my phone unlocked, which seemed to have been a mistake''

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. ''You calling me a mistake? The sounds you made say otherwise''

''You- I- we-'' Jiwoo didn't know what to say, which was a rare thing.

''Cat got your tongue, princess?'' An amused grin grew on Beomgyu's lips as he spoke. He leaned down and pecked her lips. ''Sorry''

'They both got dressed and walked around the car to get into the front. They both missed the paparazzis snapping photos of them. They both missed the fact that they were, most likely, gonna be on the news tomorrow.

''Asshole''

''Your asshole''

''Whatever, cheescake''

#fluff #kpop fluff #kpop oneshots #txt smut #txt #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #beomgyu fluff #one shot #beomgyu one shot #tomorrow x together #smut #txt beomgyu

[yellowocaballero]

Weekenders Side Story: Byleth Gets Turned Into A Cat; Felix Causes Problems On Purpose

“You know humans can’t spontaneously become cats, right?”

“So far as we know,” Dimitri stressed. “Magic can perform impossibilities, can’t it? Annette and Byleth were practicing magic for hours yesterday. She could have magically turned into a cat!”

“Uh huh.” Felix hadn’t expected that to work, but might as well make the attempt. “What are the other reasons it reminds you of Byleth?”

“Its fur is the exact shade of her old hair color, and its eyes are the same shade as her current eyes. One would assume it’s just a castle stray -” Left unsaid: like Felix was undoubtedly assuming. He absolutely was. “ - but none of the castle strays are affectionate to either of us. It’s well-groomed and its fur is silky, which is another case in point against it being a stray. Its claws and teeth are wickedly sharp and it wields them with dexterity. It clearly doesn’t possess bloodlust, but it’s always lying in wait for battle. There is something calculated about its expressions, as if they are not quite natural to its face. And the stare speaks for itself!”

Dimitri knows Byleth turned into a cat. It's very obvious. You can tell just by looking at her. Why doesn't anybody believe him? Dimitri never says untrue things. People turn into cats all the time. He's not hallucinating this time he swears.

In which everybody thinks Dimitri is hallucinating, Sylvain grapples with love and family, a young boy finds his destiny, and Byleth has the best month of her life.

A friend asked me to write this and so somehow I did. If you were into Weekenders I highly recommend this, as it is basically the 'Five Years Later' story.

20k of shit getting weird under the cut. I spent so long writing Felipe as the world's most pretentious 15yo that it was weird to mentally smash cut into him as a baby. He's a democratic socialist but just because he hates his dad. He won't stop lecturing Sara on praxis and is convinced that he's in touch with the underprivileged despite being the most privileged teen boy in the country. The OCs have lore guys.

“Felix. Wake up.”

Unfortunately, Felix woke instantly. Seven years of battlefields made a light sleeper. Worse, the voice was Dimitri’s. 

It took longer to realize that he was in his opulent four poster bed in his castle suite. There was no slip dip of the mattress beside him - Annette must have fallen asleep at her desk again. Instead, his only companion in his bedchambers was the King of Faerghus Dimitri Blaiddyd. Who was standing next to his bed. Holding a cat.

“Please,” Felix said, “tell me this important.”

The presence of the cat indicated that it probably wasn’t. Nobody delivered news of another invasion holding a cat. Dimitri would have sent a runner to knock on his door, anyway - kings didn’t fetch people. 

Dimitri flashed a ridiculous pair of cow eyes at him. He held up the slim-but-fluffy black cat in his arms indicatively, as if that could possibly indicate anything. “I need your help in determining if my wife turned into a cat.”

Alright. Felix took a careful breath in and out. He reminded himself that in Dimitri’s world this was an emergency. That Dimitri was doing exactly what they asked him to do, that even asking Felix to confirm the delusion was a sign of incredible effort and will from Dimitri, and that he was coming to Felix because he trusted him to help him feel safe. None of this changed the fact that it was ass o’clock and the King of Faerghus had, again, woken him up because he thought his wife was a cat. But it was important, and it did help. 

Felix leaned over and lit the candle on his bedside with a finger, immediately bathing them in soft candlelight. He saw that Dimitri was in his nightclothes - that he wasn’t even wearing his eyepatch - and that the cat seemed very satisfied with its current position in life. He must have come straight from bed.

“I see,” Felix said evenly. “Can you tell me why Byleth is a cat?”

Dimitri lowered the cat, face falling. “That’s your ‘humoring the mental patient’ voice - no. No, this does sound insane.” He shook himself, holding the cat a little tighter to his chest. “Byleth and I worked on paperwork until 2200 hours. We stayed up for a little while talking, and went to bed at 2230. I believe I fell asleep before she did. Fifteen minutes ago, I woke up suddenly and saw that Byleth was gone. In her place was this cat. Which is obviously Byleth.”

Dimitri held up the cat. Felix looked at the cat. The cat looked at Felix.

Dimitri cuddled the cat closer to his chest, making it close its eyes and purr happily. Somewhat defensively - somewhat exhaustedly - he said, “I am…very, very convinced this cat is Byleth. No part of my mind is telling me any differently. But I recognize that it seems…improbable from the outside. As such, I decided to ask you to help snap me out of this. Or confirm my suspicions, as necessary. I hoped to also call upon Annette, but it seems she fell asleep at her table again. I trust in your discretion.”

Felix sighed and threw aside the covers, dragging himself out of bed. He was only in his boxers, but they were years beyond modesty at this rate. “Obviously. Here, give me the cat.”

With some reluctance, Dimitri passed the cat into Felix’s arms. It was lithe, slender, and attractively fluffy. It was perfectly happy with being tossed about a bit, and it immediately snuggled happily into Felix’s arms and cocked its head at Felix in pure and innocent curiosity. In the candlelight, the black coat shone dark blue.

Its eyes were gigantic, and a strange shade of mint green. It had…the blankest, yet most intense, stare he’d ever seen in a cat. It didn’t move - it just looked at him, trapping Felix in its hypnotic stare and freezing him still. It held eye contact with him for a very long time. Felix broke first, looking away as his spine crawled. That cat knew your sins. 

Well. Felix honestly saw where Dimitri was coming from. He couldn’t say that, obviously - affirming the delusion was a terrible idea. But the cat really was horribly reminiscent of Byleth. He’d never seen any other living being stare like that…

“Do you see what I mean?” Dimitri hissed. “Doesn’t it have Byleth’s uncanny aura?”

It absolutely did. Felix was not about to admit this. “It’s pretty cute.” It was - it felt innocent and pure, yet draped in apex predator blood. “You know humans can’t spontaneously become cats, right?”

“So far as we know,” Dimitri stressed. “Magic can perform impossibilities, can’t it? Annette and Byleth were practicing magic for hours yesterday. She could have magically turned into a cat!”

“Uh huh.” Felix hadn’t expected that to work, but might as well make the attempt. “What are the other reasons it reminds you of Byleth?”

“Its fur is the exact shade of her old hair color, and its eyes are the same shade as her current eyes. One would assume it’s just a castle stray -” Left unsaid: like Felix was undoubtedly assuming. He absolutely was. “ - but none of the castle strays are affectionate to either of us. It’s well-groomed and its fur is silky, which is another case in point against it being a stray. Its claws and teeth are wickedly sharp and it wields them with dexterity. It clearly doesn’t possess bloodlust, but it’s always lying in wait for battle. There is something calculated about its expressions, as if they are not quite natural to its face. And the stare speaks for itself!”

Dimitri finished his speech with a flourish, as if it was all irrefutable evidence. He waited expectantly for Felix to give a retort and refute his points. This time, Felix was floundering. It was normally pretty easy to parse out Dimitri’s illogical trains of thought and help him realize that they weren’t possible. His ideas got really out-there. This was also an out-there idea, but this time he didn’t seem deterred by the obvious impossibility.

He seemed clear and present, but he must be worse off than Felix originally guessed. Damn it. They had so many meetings tomorrow.

He really did not miss this feeling of completely hitting a wall. “Did anybody tell you this, Dima?”

“It was all basic deduction!” Dimitri said heatedly.

“It’s alright if somebody told you.” Fuck, Felix was tired. “Was it Monica again? Or the Dark Mage?”

Dimitri jerked back a little, hurt flashing on his face. Damn it, don’t make Felix feel like shit over this. He was the one so dead-set on the cat thing. “You won’t even entertain the possibility?”

“I’m a master-class mage, Dima. Magic can’t turn full-bred humans into cats.”

“It could have been a blessing by the Goddess.”

“Byleth has a very irregular sleep schedule. She’s always getting up in the middle of the night and walking around. Have you checked the castle pond for her? The stables? The garden?” Judging by Dimitri’s sullen look downwards, he hadn’t. So he really hadn’t been thinking clearly. “Do you need me to check those spots with you?”

It must have been very obvious from the look on Felix’s face that he really, really didn’t want to. Felix had ten meetings today and he’d have ten meetings tomorrow, and he really wanted to go back to the scant few hours of sleep he could scrape. 

Twenty five was a pretty young age to rule an entire country - especially when Dimitri  hadn’t mentally been up to very much for five years. And it wasn’t just Faerghus anymore. He ruled the ‘Territory of Adrestia’ now too. Faerghus had swallowed the Alliance back up, and its lords had all been forced to swear fealty back to Faerghus again. The guy was now effectively the ruler of Fodlan. Anybody in his position would believe that their wife’s a cat.

“I can manage on my own,” Dimitri said stiffly. He held out his arms. “I apologize for waking you up. Please return By - the cat to me.”

Despite himself, Felix hesitated. Dimitri hated even touching live animals - he was always scared that he’d crush them. Bad experience with a frog when he was nine. He hadn’t hurt an animal since, and Felix knew he never would, but…

Dimitri saw the hesitation. It was clear how much Felix had hurt him. But he just sucked it up and took it - as always, after all this time - and he just let his arms drop. 

“Never mind,” Dimitri whispered. “Sorry.”

Before Felix could apologize to him, the cat abruptly wriggled out of Felix’s arms. He let it escape, allowing the cat to jump down onto the floor, and he and Dimitri watched in silence as the cat gracefully trotted away. There was something so familiar about that swaying gait…

That solved that problem. Dimitri didn’t chase after it, which solved another. 

Dimitri turned around and left his room. Felix could almost see the cape snapping at his heels. He was in his sleeping clothes in the dead of night, trying desperately to convince Felix that his ex-private school teacher and current wife was a cat, but it was somehow still impossible to mistake him for anything other than a king.

Felix rubbed his face and groaned. Out of all the times to fall asleep at your desk, Annette…

Sleep was a long time coming that night, and in the morning Felix was tired after all.

***

The next morning was as miserable as expected. 

Felix never had high hopes for it. Every trip to the castle was marked by a month of nonstop useless meetings and wastes of breath lords. He had a million reasons to resent his father, but forcing him to be Lord High Marshall to His Majesty etc was one of the worst. Felix had always assumed Glenn would be stuck with the horrifyingly important positions and that he’d be free to manage the fiefdom while Glenn was busy being important. Now Felix was important. And he couldn’t even complain about it, because every time he complained about it his old man kept on offering to do it instead and leave Felix to manage the fiefdom.

And fuck that. As if he’d inflict Dimitri on any other sucker. 

But, of course and as usual, the situation forced Felix to be a little more honest with himself. If he could be here every day, he would. Even if it involved retainers and vassals and stuffed shirts. For Annette and Sylvain, obviously. But for Dimitri too. Felix always wanted to be there when he needed him. Every time and always.

Tapping the Blue Lion (they seriously needed a new name for their cult - it was a little embarrassing going by schoolyard names) gossip network was the day’s first order of business. Felix updated Sylvain on the situation during their 0500 training session, and by breakfast every Blue Lion in the castle knew. By the end of breakfast Ingrid had rearranged her guard rotations so she could take the position of Dimitri’s bodyguard for the day - peeving his usual guard, who was well aware of Dimitri’s condition, but Ingrid was the only member of his guard who could step in for him publicly. 

The greater castle gossip network spread a little slower. Felix’s manservant heard from Byleth’s ladies in waiting that they couldn’t find her at all that morning. It was a little unsettling. Byleth had the habit of disappearing into the woods and completely forgetting to tell the people responsible for following her around, so the ladies in waiting were more peeved than worried. Felix remembered how clear Dimitri’s speech had been. 

When Felix spoke to Dimitri and Ingrid personally for the first time that day - nearing mid-day, which said quite a bit - Dimitri obviously knew what was going on and had accepted it with his usual grim resignation. His opinion on their rigid protective detail changed frequently, but at his most even he always carried that air of resignation. Sometimes Felix wondered if he thought he was being punished for something. 

They were both in the hallway moving between conferences, but Felix had learned how to take any opportunity to snatch a minute with Dimitri. Dimitri was attended only by Ingrid, and Felix stopped them both in the middle of the hall and bowed.

“Greetings to Your Majesty,” Felix said. This felt intensely stupid after last night, but it always did. “I pray for your continued good health.”

“Greetings to Lord Fraldarius,” Dimitri said, a little coldly. Ingrid made a sympathetic face from behind him. “How fares your wife?”

“I have not had the pleasure of seeing her today.” They all grimaced together. Workaholic woman. “Your Majesty, may I borrow your guard for a minute?”

For just a second, Dimitri looked a little more tired than usual. He was aware they were about to gossip about how to handle the cat-wife situation behind his back. “Of course. Captain Galatea, return at your leisure.”

Ingrid stepped out from behind Dimitri, bowing as a knight to a lord before shooting him a concerned look. “If His Majesty has a minute to join us, his company would be welcome.”

Felix grimaced apologetically. “His Majesty must be very busy. I wouldn’t want to occupy his time with this small matter.”

Read: Dimitri was not invited. They both frowned in apology to Dimitri, who just shuttered his expression and waved them off. Five more retainers immediately swarmed him, and Felix and Ingrid quickly whisked themselves away to a small conference room. The people using it were less important than they were, so they kicked out the idiots and locked the doors behind them. 

Immediately, Felix said, “This sounds stupid, but you need to send your guards out searching for Byleth.”

Also immediately, Ingrid said, “Please do not tell me that you also think Byleth is a cat.”

“Of course I don’t!” Felix snapped. Ingrid raised an eyebrow, and he immediately subsided. “Look. You didn’t see that cat. It was - reminiscent. And nobody’s seen Byleth at all. Finding her would put the matter to rest.”

Ingrid sighed. “Dimitri wanted to check the garden ponds himself. I had to call in one of Byleth’s handmaidens and have her attest that they’ve already looked all over the castle. She’s going to feel awful when she learns that she worried Dimitri…maybe it’ll be enough for her to finally start telling us where she goes all day.”

“Then tell the guards to find her. Say that I need her urgent signature or something.” 

“If you think it’s important, I will.” When had Felix earned that trust? Why? He was literally Felix. “But I won’t mobilize the castle guards without Dimitri’s approval. How should we handle this?”

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sylvain said to let it run its course until it becomes a problem. Is he showing any other symptoms?”

But Ingrid just shook her head, looking troubled. “Absolutely none. You know how sometimes he feels a deep worry, but he hides it because he thinks we won’t understand?”

“If that man starts thinking we turned her into a cat -”

“No, not at all. It’s only that he knows we won’t believe him.” Ingrid’s brow furrowed - like Dimitri, more worried than she would like to admit. “It’s hard to do anything for him like this.”

“Flayn would know.”

“Or Byleth.”

The two least emotionally intelligent Blue Lions stood in miserable silence. They mutually attempted to design a respectful, sensitive, and efficient way of solving the problem. They were too emotionally stupid, and they mutually failed miserably. 

“Fuck it, let’s just tell him.”

“Agreed.”

Kidnapping Dimitri was a tall ask, but when Felix returned Ingrid to Dimitri he was able to somehow do it so aggressively that they gained a small bubble of privacy. Felix tried to weaponize his unpleasantness these days.

Ingrid bowed lowly, as a knight to her king. “Your Majesty. Permission to mobilize the castle knights to search the surrounding area for Her Grace.”

Dimitri perked up immediately, and temporarily forgot himself. “Does that mean you believe me?”

Felix and Ingrid adopted poker faces. The implication was clear. Dimitri’s hopeful face fell, and Felix saw him struggle to replace that impassive kingly demeanor. 

He stepped closer, lowering his voice and hissing, “Why are you sending the guards if you don’t believe me, then?”

“It never hurts to be thorough with Her Grace’s safety,” Ingrid said. Nice one. “We want to do our due diligence.”

Dimitri’s voice lowered further, only barely audible to Ingrid and Felix. “Are you or are you not humoring me?”

Felix and Ingrid winced as one.

They were both remembering the same moment - years and years ago, when a raging ‘up and out’ Dimitri accused them of humoring his repeated insistences that the Adrestian mages were using telepathy to project messages into his mind. He had thrown a chair against the cabin wall. It had been the first time Mercedes had to knock him out from concern that he would hurt something or someone else besides himself. 

Dimitri remembered it too. He backed away, closing off his expression, but Felix knew the hunch of those shoulders. Pure Dimitri-class shame. And the Dimitri-special ‘Everything I did while I couldn’t control myself makes me a bad person’. And that particular tightening of the eyes indicated the classic variant ‘I wish my friends had allowed me to freeze to death in the Faerghus winter instead of taking care of me’. Goddess, he was stupid.

“You have my permission for anything you must do,” Dimitri said stiffly. “No need to inform me.”

Which was code for ‘I know I’m compromised right now, so do whatever damage control you want, sorry in advance for the extra work’. It was normally a relief to hear - for more than one reason - but now…

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Ingrid bowed again. “I’ll send the order at once.”

Felix copied her, but he found himself hesitating. That was never a bad thing. It didn’t happen often enough. “Your Majesty. Do you remember when you and Flayn stayed in that small village in the base of the mountains?” Dimitri stared at him blankly. He was correct: those five years were fuzzy for him. Sometimes Felix wondered if he remembered more than he admitted. “You kept on telling Flayn that the village was overrun by Adrestian mages. She said that you were on high alert during your entire stay. Apparently your caution was how Flayn realized that a group of travelers were plain clothed scouts from the Adrestian army. It may have saved your cover.”

Dimitri blanched, apparently shocked. “I did? I was right?”

“They were not experts in telepathic magic,” Felix said, somewhat circumspect, “but paranoia was a smart move in those days. You weren’t always wrong, Your Majesty.” 

“It used to make Lady Byleth sad,” Ingrid said quietly. Felix nodded, but Dimitri just looked away. “She once told me that you wouldn’t be so scared all of the time if there wasn’t anything to be scared of.” 

“Lady Byleth also blamed herself for involving me in my own coup and the war for my own kingdom,” Dimitri said, stiff and unyielding. Felix knew that the topic was a sore spot between them. Byleth had vented about it more than once to Felix. And cried about it, which had been deeply alarming. “I take responsibility for my own burdens. And I would not burden you two with my own…beliefs.” 

Ingrid and Felix gave him identical ‘you aren’t a burden, asshole’ eyes. Dimitri knew the eyes perfectly well and pretended he did not. He turned away from them and made eye contact with a courier, and just like that their personal time came to an end. More than they usually got. 

Ingrid and Felix exchanged long-suffering glances. But something rose in her expression, and Felix had to admit it rose on his too: 

Felix didn’t know a lot about blessings from the Goddess. He didn’t know any Faith magic, forbidden magic, or experimental atomic magic. He knew nothing about beastkin, dragonkin, or catgirls. He was not a religious man and wasn’t even a particularly friendly man. But even he had to ask himself…

…what if his professor had turned into a cat?

***

Felix recruited Sylvain for the cause, because he clearly didn’t have enough to do.

Grand Chamberlain was such a fake job. Sylvain was probably the smartest Grand Chamberlain in two hundred years, but Dimitri’s uncle had gutted the position so severely that it was a little fake. Then King Dimitri unified Fodlan, appointed Sylvain to the position, and un-faked the job via signing off on whatever he wanted to do. In a move that would have made the teenage Blue Lions faint from shock, Sylvain loaded himself up with as many responsibilities as he could and lifted every burden from Dimitri’s shoulders that he could manage. Even beyond what he could manage, sometimes. The Blue Lions were experts in collusion to make him take a break (Mercedes persuading him to take a break, Dimitri signing off on the break, Annette and Felix taking over his duties, Petra shipping him off to the beach), but those moments were few and far between.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the baby.

Felix easily kicked aside the guards outside of Sylvain’s office, shoving open the door and finding Sylvain in the exactly expected location (giant fancy desk) doing exactly the expected things (paperwork). Felix would have come earlier, but he had squeezed Sylvain’s schedule out of his assistant and timed his approach for the handful of hours that Sylvain did not have a meeting. 

“You’re helping me out with the Catleth situation.” 

Sylvain looked up, pained but not surprised. “With the cat or with Dimitri?”

“We’re finding the cat.”

“You don’t need me for that.” Felix opened his mouth. “If you make any pussy jokes I’m throwing you out of this castle.”

“You don’t have the authority to do that.” He did. With Dimitri indisposed, Sylvain had the administrative final word. Byleth had the Blue Lion final word, which was a subtle yet distinct difference. “If I’m going to spend my free hour hunting down a cat then I’m going to multitask while doing it. You’re coming with me.”

“How is that multitask -”

“It’s making you take a break. Up.”

Sylvain got up. They swapped abilities to bully each other about once every five years, and it was Felix’s turn. 

The castle was sprawling and it was not short on cats. Cats were one of the few things that made Lady Byleth smile, so the groundskeepers were under orders to leave them running around so long as they didn’t disrupt anything. Sylvain immediately began plotting out a systematic search that began at the fringes of the castle and circled inwards - a move that was basically identical to their standard military tactics to eradicate the fleeing dregs of enemy forces. Felix blatantly ignored him and forced him in a straight line outwards. 

“Are we just doing this to make Dimitri feel better?” Sylvain asked, successfully prying himself away from Felix’s iron grip. Damn lancers and their upper body strength. “If we are, then we should probably invite him to this very useful expedition that is a great use of our time.”

“Ingrid mobilized the guards to make him feel better. We are searching for the cat.” A passing page tried to get Felix’s attention. He blatantly ignored them. Dumbass Sylvain had to wave and grimace apologetically. Just get a reputation as an asshole. It was easy. “It’s a better use of our time than idiot forms and idiot idiots.”

“Shit, you’re being serious.” Sylvain stopped short, forcing Felix to stop with him. He looked sternly down at Felix, who forcibly reminded himself that it was his turn to bully Sylvain. “You said that Dimitri thought it might be magic. You’re the mage between us, Felix. Do you really think that Byleth could have magically turned into a cat?”

“Magic isn’t an x factor,” Felix said curtly. “It’s not limited by the beautiful reaches of our imagination. Reason magic is a mathematics and science that produces certain sensible results. Like lightning. There’s no Reason equation for turning a human into a cat.”

“What about Faith?”

“Oh, Faith’s bullshit.”

Sylvain crossed his arms. “Faith’s magic. Annette knows -”

“Annette’s shitty at Faith.”

“Annette thinks shittiness is a moral failing.” Stone faced, Felix pumped his fist in the air - their standard ‘Go Blue Lions!’ gesture. “She was like that before Lady Byleth got her hands on her and you know it.” Felix rolled his eyes. “She made all of us worse, your wife isn’t special.”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose hard. “Look. Byleth forced all of us to have basic proficiency in all types of magic. I know enough theory behind Faith to understand that it bolsters the body to approach the ultimate ideal form of the goddess. The goddess’ body is immaculate, so it heals the body. The goddess’ body is powerful, so it provides buffs. The goddess is not a cat.”

“Wow,” Sylvain said, impressed. “That is bullshit.”

“Fucking hated learning that shit, but Byleth manipulated me into getting competitive with Annette and forced me to learn it.” The increasingly intense rivalry had turned their relationship from casual into something far more serious. It had taken years for them all to accept that Byleth had arranged all of their relationships, much like she had arranged their lives. “Here, quiet down.”

The best fishing spot in the castle was the large pond in the center of the castle. It was rich with fish, had a peaceful ambiance, and even possessed a waterfall. Byleth’s favorite fishing spot was way out on the outskirts of the castle and bordered a cow pasture. Fishing was a meditative task, and for her it demanded maximum isolation. At Garreg Mach they could clearly see her fishing at the docks during most of her free periods, but nobody was stupid enough to bother her. She had a way of making the blankest stare feel hostile. 

Cows lowed among them, peaceful and stinky. Felix and Sylvain pulled on their hard months of stealth training and snuck through the brittle and scraggly bush, ducking beneath overhanging branches and gently sidling out of the brush to the other side. 

The sight was unimpressive: the pond was just as scabby and tattered as the bush, and the sagging tree branches spread over the pond creaked in the weak spring breeze. Despite the spring, the pond’s foliage was limp and cracked. The only redeeming feature was the solid selection of particularly stupid fish. Due to a confluence of all of these factors, it was Byleth’s favorite fishing spot.

Sylvain leaned close into Felix’s ear. “Didn’t Byleth’s handmaidens already search the fishing spots?”

“Not this one. It’s her secret spot. Nobody with half a brain would tramp through all of this cow shit.”

“Then why do you know about it?”

Special Tea Time. “Classified.”

“The fuck does that -”

Felix slapped a hand over Sylvain’s mouth. Silence and stealth was now of the utmost priority. He had found his quarry. 

Of course, the quarry was the Debatably-Byleth Cat. It was sitting exactly at Byleth’s favorite place to sit on the bank, leaning over the pond as its tail lashed. Its eyes tracked the surface of the water, alert and ready as it waited over its prey. The cat’s fur had looked black last night, but in the color in the daylight was clearly dark blue. 

“That’s supposed to be Byleth?” Sylvain hissed. “Felix, it’s obviously a -”

“Watch!”

Felix almost missed it. The cat had watched its quarry for over a minute, but in retrospect it had clearly just been waiting for the right opportunity. The cat lashed out a gleaming silver claw, spearing a fish and pulling it out of the water. The movement was smooth as silk and so quick that Felix barely caught it. The fish flopped pathetically onto the shores of the bank, and the cat wasted no time in almost swallowing the fish whole. It was probably the most impressive hunting Felix had ever seen.

The cat finished its meal and settled down happily onto the banks, flopping on its side to enjoy the gentle sun. Looking at its serene little squints, you could never tell that it had speared a fish and swallowed it whole in under three seconds. The bat of its paw was perfectly calculated to almost mathematic precision.

“Holy shit,” Sylvain said. “Byleth’s a cat.”

“I’m gonna have to apologize to Dimitri,” Felix said blankly. “Damn. I hate doing that.”

The cat re-embarked on its precise hunt, its bloodlust insatiable. Sylvain looked abjectly depressed. “He’s never going to forget this. This is going to validate him.”

Worst case scenario. “Maybe we don’t have to tell him?” Felix offered. Sylvain gave him a bizarre look. “What? What do you think’s going to upset him more, a missing wife or a cat wife?”

“Impossible to tell.” Sylvain faced down the cat grimly. It - she - casually speared another fish, shoving it down its gullet. Where was she putting it away? That fish was half as big as she was. “We gotta catch that cat.”

“I’m not getting into a fucking chase scene with our cat professor, Sylvain.”

Sylvain whistled, bright and sharp, and Felix immediately shoved him. The cat’s head rose, turning her head as her eyes locked straight onto Sylvain and Felix. They both fought instinctive quailing and the urge to apologize for disrupting the sacred fishing time.

Damn it. This was the point of stealth. She was going to freak out and run off, and Felix would actually be stuck in a horrible little chase scene with his academy professor -

The cat trotted over to them, tail swaying happily, and Felix and Sylvain froze as the cat stopped at their feet and blinked solemnly up at them. Those piercing mint green eyes made Felix understand how the fish felt. Sylvain, still traumatized from the academy, froze in horror and fear. 

Felix bent down and scooped up the cat. He bounced her a little, holding her like a baby, and she meowed delightedly. Sylvain stared at the stone faced Felix and the happily purring cat, rapidly losing all will to live.

“She’s very friendly,” Felix said blandly. 

Sylvain bent down a little, making eye contact with the pleased cat. Hesitantly, he said, “Professor? Is that you?”

The cat mrrp’d. 

“Meow if you can understand me, Professor.”

The cat yawned. 

“I think Byleth might be a regular cat,” Felix said, scratching her behind the ears. “So what do we do now, your lordship Grand Chamberlain?”

“I wish I was in a meeting,” Sylvain said, desolate.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t.” Sylvain sighed, running his hand through his hair. “We can’t let anybody find out about this. The future queen of Faerghus is a cat…how did this even happen? Damn it, why does this only happen to us? What are we supposed to do with her?”

“I don’t know,” Felix said, “does your son want a pet?”

“He’s nine months old, he doesn’t want anything,” Sylvain snapped. “Gather everybody. I’m calling a house meeting. Including Dimitri and the cat.”

Felix raised Cat Byleth to eye level, bouncing her a little. “What do you think, my lady? Are you making a new rule of the Blue Lions? Is it ‘we only eat trout’? ‘If we can fit in it, we can sit in it’? ‘Our kittens are acquaintances’?”

“Let’s go, Felix! And don’t let go of that cat!”

Man, he was cranky lately. 

***

Sylvain did absolutely have a baby. He had met the squirt around twice. It was hilarious.

The birth of Felipe Emilie Gautier was celebrated throughout the country, and the blessing of the goddess was assumed: Sylvain and Mercedes Gautier’s first child was a boy and born with a crest. You couldn’t get any luckier. Dimitri had been hailed by the country as a miracle baby because he was the king and queen’s first child and was born a boy with a crest. There had been celebrations in the streets for a week. 

Good thing, too. Sylvain had refused to have any mistresses. His children would be born via Mercedes, and fuck everybody else. Maybe the goddess had approved of the romanticism.

Sylvain’s position as heir Gautier had already been locked down. But his war heroism, decorated office, and blessed child catapulted him into the second most powerful position in Fodlan. To Felix, it was clearly a little disconcerting for him: nobody had ever valued Sylvain for anything beyond his crest. Nobody outside of the cult had ever respected Sylvain as a person. Sylvain’s reputation in their schooling and his home had been of an empty-headed callous playboy, and no amount of kindness, intelligence, and wisdom from him could dent that reputation. Obviously, war heroism and kingly favoritism turned that around. He was an invaluable asset in making Fodlan strong. Look at his baby.

Sylvain did not look at his baby that often. As much as Felix gave him shit about it, he knew that it was natural. Sylvain worked in the castle and the Gautier capital was two weeks of travel. Losing a month of work to travel was unacceptable, never mind the time spent at home. Sylvain had spent a month at home when Mercedes gave birth and returned six months later to attend the annual fiefdom congressional meeting. That was it. 

Mercedes herself found that kicking around a castle living with her in-laws was a thoroughly boring experience, so she and Felipe were living at the border of the Duscur territory and working with Dedue to build schools and conduct humanitarian missions and whatever-the-fuck. Even letters took ages to reach her.

Dimitri, by this point thoroughly aware that he had stolen everybody else’s fathers, had immediately offered to move Mercedes and Felipe into the castle. Mercedes herself had declined: she was needed at Duscur, not Fhirdiad. Sylvain understood, for the same reasons that Mercedes understood why he had to live at the castle, and they loved each other as much as ever. But Felix knew a small part of Sylvain was a little relieved too. Sylvain was ashamed of the feeling, but that didn’t stop him.

“Think of it this way,” Felix had said. “You didn’t want to be a father. Mercedes wanted to be a mom. You knew you would lose your place in the line of succession if you didn’t become a father.” If a noble of a crested home didn’t have a child their entire territory would excommunicate them. No exceptions. Hilarious. “Now you and Mercedes both get what you wanted. Mercedes gets a baby, and you get to pretend the baby doesn’t exist.”

Sylvain had actually attacked Felix over that one. 

Technically the situation wasn’t Sylvain’s fault. The sword at his neck forcing him to be a parent was incredibly fucked, there was nobody else any Blue Lion trusted to do his job, and the castle incompetence left him taking on so much work that he couldn’t take a break. Maybe it was mean to tease him for child neglect, as if there was anything he could do about it.

That wouldn’t stop Felix. His father had made, in retrospect, a stunning effort to see him as frequently as possible, but that was maybe glimpses of him for a week every three months. Glenn’s death wasn’t the only thing that had strained their relationship. Even Felix was luckier than his friends: his forced bonding time with Dimitri at the castle once he turned five meant that he saw his father too. Felipe might not be so lucky.

Just because it was unavoidable didn’t make it acceptable. Sylvain was fucking up his relationship with his kid. When that baby was an uncertain child, struggling to navigate the oppressive nature of his world, his father would not guide him. When that baby was a bitter teenager, he would blame the father that didn’t want him for the faults of the world. From this distance, it was easy for Sylvain to forget that. Felix wouldn’t let him. Shoving this pain away would push it onto somebody who didn’t deserve it.

Ingrid and Ashe, the token monogamists, weren’t married out of sheer spite. Petra had asked Ashe to return to Brigid to help her with some invaders, and Ingrid had sent him away with support from ex-Adrestian troops. When he returned, he would probably move in with Ingrid into the castle and raise their own child within the castle. Having that Galatean baby out of wedlock might be a bit extreme even for spite, but Ingrid would probably satisfy herself by eloping with Ashe’s lack of title and absolute poverty. Dimitri’s child wouldn’t steal the baby’s father. An unusually lucky baby. 

As for Felix. Annette had submitted their ten year plan onto Felix’s desk and he had rubber-stamped it. Felix would continue splitting his time between his own lands and his castle; Annette would continue her work as Royal Magician. At age twenty eight, once she received the highest level of acclaim she could receive from the Inter-Continental Magical Association, she would leave her position to her successor and return with Felix to Fraldarius full-time. Annette would have the kid and take up a professorship position at the university as she continued her independent research. Felix, you can split your time in half between the castle and raising the kid. Three children maximum, another if one is a jock. You’re on your own after that one. If you have to choose between the castle and your kids, Felix -

Yes, Annette. He’d pick the children. Almost all of them would. Byleth had raised a strange group. 

The men had even gotten together and unanimously agreed to only resort to mistresses if their wives asked. Sylvain had flatly refused. Almost all of them had a stupid amount of half-siblings: it was extremely common practice for lords to try for children with other women if their wives weren’t delivering on the Crest front. Ingrid had a truly insane level of half-siblings, none of which she had met. Ingrid and Ashe had frankly stated that they were having as many as they felt like having, and that chasing the crested baby was her brother’s job. It was technically meant to be hers, but somewhere along Ingrid’s three hundredth kill she stopped caring about what she was supposed to do.

Sylvain’s monstrous half-brother was actually the full child of the lord and lady - Sylvain himself was the child of his father and apparently the most gorgeous woman in her village. Any crested child out of wedlock was bought from the mother and adopted into the lord and lady’s family, given the title of heir, and treated as if they had been there the entire time. Sylvain was apparently identical to his mother. Maybe. He didn’t look anything like the lord. He took after her in personality too. Maybe. He didn’t act anything like the lord. He had never met her, and his father couldn’t be assed to remember her name. When Sylvain got drunk he wondered how much his mother had sold him for.

The flood of extra children had extra utility: namely, that noble tradition put its nobility on the front lines of war literally all of the time, and they all had the habit of dying like flies. Felix had a funny family story from his grandfather about how a generation of Fraldariuses three generations ago had been wiped out in a war against Sreng. Desperately, they literally had to scavenge together a handful of impoverished village bastard children to fill out their ranks again. His entire noble family were the descendents of mistresses. It was a skeleton in their closet that Felix found hilarious.

None of them knew Dimitri and Byleth’s plan. They were all privately concerned that Byleth didn’t know where babies came from and that Dimitri was too awkward to explain. 

Felix had spent five years as an underground revolutionary. He had fought and won a war that unified the continent. He was one of the five most powerful people on the continent. He was renowned as the greatest Master Savant on the continent and was forced to regularly turn down a flood of requests to take apprentices or teach his methods. But he had never really felt like an adult until he was forced to sit at a table with Annette and haggle out how many uncrested children they would have until Felix would start taking mistresses. 

Or had it been earlier? Maybe it should have been. Maybe the first time Felix helped feed Dimitri should have been his tipping moment into adulthood. It hadn’t. He had only felt achingly young. He had been painfully aware of his own inadequacy: his fear, his helplessness, his daily dances with death. He had wanted the professor. 

For years, they had all wanted the professor. She was the only protector they had who hadn’t split her time between their duties and their families. She had dedicated her entire life to them. Every second of her day was about helping them grow, nurturing their minds, healing their spirit, and pushing them to the brink. It was attention they had never gotten from somebody who had never been obligated to give it. 

Families were obligations and pressures. Families were lonely birthday parties and glimpses of their fathers. Families were false mothers who knew you were a cuckoo in their nest. Families were dead mothers, dead fathers, and an extended family who convinced themselves that you stole your cousin’s nonexistent crest. Families were the price your mother put on your head and the faceless wash of half-siblings who you would never know. 

“The Blue Lions are family,” Ashe had murmured into the dark, a long time ago. A dark cabin and a rare meeting between almost all of them. “Right?”

Ingrid shifted closer against him, creaking the rusty mattress thrown unceremoniously to the floor. “You’re all family to me.” 

Three of her brothers had died in the invasion.

“I believe that we choose the family of our hearts,” Mercedes had said quietly. “My adopted father is no father to me. I care for all of you deeply.”

“None of you would ever abandon me.” Annette’s voice was a little thick. Felix had squeezed her hand. “Of course you’re my family.”

“Family is a complex matter,” Flayn had yawned. They hadn’t even realized she was awake. Girl had always been chronically tired. “It’s somewhat of a construct…but far too much emphasis is placed on blood ties in our society. I’ve always had the freedom to arrange my own family. You all will always be a part of it.”

“Fuck my family and its fucking bloodline shit. I can’t tolerate them. I love you all more than anything. No debate here.” Sylvain reached out and gently tapped Dimitri on the shoulder. Dimitri’s face was buried in his ragged pillow, his silky hair tangled over his sheets. They had successfully wrangled him into a bath yesterday. “What about you, Dimitri? We know you’re awake.”

Dimitri curled up on his side, pointedly putting his back to Sylvain. Voice hoarse and deep, he muttered, “I have a mother and father.”

“And I have a brother,” Felix had said. “The living don’t overwrite the dead. None of us here want to be your mother, anyway.” 

“My sister slaughtered my family.” Alright, maybe bringing up family to Dimitri had been a shit idea. “She’ll kill you too.”

Lightly, Sylvain had said, “We’re pretty tough cookies. Have a little faith in us, Your Highness.”

“You should leave,” Dimitri had hissed. “You’re all going to die.”

Felix had groaned. “Did telling us to abandon you work the last twenty times, asshole?”

“We’re in danger anyway, with or without you,” Ashe had reasonably pointed out. “Together or apart. Might as well do it together, right?”

Dimitri muttered something under his breath and buried his face deeper into the pillow. He pointedly ignored everything they said after that, and they politely let him pretend they weren’t there. 

Their best friends forever schtick was a childish promise at seventeen, and their cutesy found family shit had been a childish promise at nineteen. But it was still true, despite everything: they had all married each other. If you didn’t marry, it barely mattered. Mercedes had been living with Dedue for months, and Ashe was currently on another country’s front lines side by side with Petra. Their family had stayed together. Cute, technically. Definitely the desired outcome for all of them. None of them would have it any other way. 

But hey. Sylvain hadn’t promised his baby to be family forever, had he? 

***

The Blue Lions held their sleepover that night in Dimitri’s chambers. Goddess knew what his guards thought about the late night bedroom meetings. They all had reputations. Sylvain was under the impression that he and Felix were very discreet, which meant that half the castle probably knew. Sure, war rooms and sitting rooms had been invented for a reason, but sitting rooms didn’t have Dimitiri’s gigantic bed. 

The sleepover began without Dimitri. Felix’s wife worked the longest hours, but she was one of the blessed lucky officials without a meeting every hour, so Ingrid had successfully tracked her down and explained the situation. Felix was graced with her company the second he escaped the last nightly obligation of the day and barged into Dimitri’s room. Annette was happily playing with Cat Byleth on Dimitri’s bed. At least she hadn’t escaped. 

“This is the cutest kitty,” Annette gushed. “You are just the most friendly, nicest little stray I’ve ever seen! And so glossy!”

“If you start singing Lady Byleth little songs I’m walking out the door.”

“Aw, but look at her.” Annette held up Cat Byleth, swaying her a little. Cat Byleth stared into Felix’s eyes, judging his soul and assignments. “She deserves little songs. Are we really naming her Lady Byleth? Things are going to get confusing if we do. How about the Professor?”

“Incredibly bad news.”

Annette lowered Cat Byleth, giving Felix a dubious look. “Ingrid said that Dimitri says that…” Felix nodded grimly. “So…we’re dissuading him of that notion, yes?” Felix’s grim look sank six feet under. “Darling?”

“I’ll explain once everyone’s here.”

Sylvain arrived after her, flopping down dramatically next to Annette onto the bed and groaning with exhaustion. Felix dragged over his favorite plush armchair, pushing it against the bed and propping up his shoes on the luxurious embroidered sheets. Sylvain refused to even look at the cat. Annette gleefully cooed at the cat until she fell backwards onto the bed and instantly began snoring. Felix slid a pillow under her head. 

Ingrid joined them shortly afterwards, chugging a beer, and cautiously took a seat on the chaise lounge on the other side of the bed from Felix. Cat Byleth was happily kneading one of the pillows. Ingrid squinted at the cat. Cat Byleth purred. 

Finally, Ingrid proclaimed, “I don’t see it.”

“It’s a very unique shade of eye color,” Felix pointed out.

“Look how happy she is,” Ingrid said. The cat was having the time of her life. “If you were turned into a cat, you wouldn’t have fun like that. Even if you really did have a cat brain, you’d be pretty freaked out. Wouldn’t you?”

Felix had to concede the point. Felix would be biting everything.

Dimitri was the last to arrive. He stopped short when he entered his own quarters, cape already halfway unlatched, and stared blankly at the assembly. Everybody else turned to look at Ingrid, who raised her hands in a plea for innocence. 

“I told him! I mentioned it twice.”

“Forgive me. My mind was somewhat preoccupied today.” Dimitri slowly finished unlatching his cape, moving to toss it on the nearest flat surface. Annette twitched an eyebrow at him. He slowly hung up the cape on the hook near the door. “Good evening, all. You…brought B - the cat.”

“She is really just so precious.” Annette was sitting cross-legged with the sleeping Cat Byleth in her lap, scratching her behind the ears. “I’ve never met a sweeter cat. And she’s just so fluffy!”

“Right,” Dimitri said stiffly. He walked into the room, stiffly surveying the group. “Is the intervention necessary?”

“It’s more of a family meeting,” Sylvain said. Dimitri clearly mentally tacked ‘tactfully’ onto the end of that sentence. “I just figured we should put our heads together and figure this situation out, Your Majesty. And hey, it’s been almost a week since we were all in the same room!”

“That’s because Annette never leaves the tower,” Felix said blandly. 

“If it’s a family meeting, it’s Dimitri.” Dimitri disappeared into his closet and began changing clothing as Annette mimed aiming a Fire spell at Felix’s face. They had chased away Dimitri’s manservants, so Felix would have offered to help him remove the armor, but Dimitri had designed the armor specifically so he could remove it himself. Apparently he had found time to learn metalworking in his training schedule. Somehow. “Do the guards have any leads on my wife?”

“Nothing.” Ingrid looked a little uncomfortable. “We don’t want to cause a panic, so we’re searching in plain clothes, but some of them are beginning to grow concerned.”

“Annette, have you tried a tracking spell?”

“Yep. It completely fizzled out.” Quickly, Annette added, “Not as if she was dead! It was like a letter that was returned to the sender. It mystified the hell out of me. I couldn’t figure it out. I was considering writing Lysithea about it.”

Dimitri emerged from his closet, wearing far more casual and soft clothes. The cat’s ears twitched, and she opened her eyes and lifted her head to see Dimitri standing in front of the bed. She jumped out of Annette’s arms and bounded over to Dimitri, jumping up into his automatically outstretched arms. She immediately began rubbing her head against his chest, purring up a storm, and Dimitri very gingerly cradled her in his arms. 

Slowly, Dimitri said, “Felix, take the cat.”

“Don’t feel like it,” Felix said blandly. 

“Felix - !”

“You’re an adult, hold your own wife.”

“Did you feed her earlier or something?” Ingrid asked, fascinated. “Animals tend to hate you, Dimitri. But she’s so affectionate…”

Exceptionally gentle and slow, Dimitri stroked the cat’s fur backwards. Cat Byleth wriggled happily. “She’s liked me since I met her. If you all have any arguments to address my…thoughts, I would like to hear them.”

Sylvain and Felix looked at each other. They silently battled for their lives. Sylvain silently reminded Felix that he was the one who ruthlessly shut him down last night, and that this might make up for it. Felix silently cursed him out for being right, as usual.

“I have no idea how to say this in a way that doesn’t make me sound as insane as Dimitri,” Felix said bluntly. Better rip off the bandaid. “But Sylvain and I think Dimitri’s right. The cat’s definitely Byleth.”

The girls stared at Felix blankly. Dimitri’s eyebrows skyrocketed upwards. 

“Do you really think so?” Dimitri asked urgently. “Are you certain? What are your deductions?”

“We caught her fishing in Byleth’s fishing spot. She kills like Byleth kills. It’s a…distinctive sort of murder.” Sylvain sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t make it sound good either. It just feels so obvious. Man, I wish Mercedes was here. She’d have insight.”

“All three of you feel certain?” Ingrid asked. All three men nodded with varying levels of enthusiasm. She turned back to the cat, leaning forward and staring intently at it. After a heart-stopping minute, she said, “It would answer some persistent questions. If all of you are certain, I’ll trust you. Annette?”

Annette hummed, tapping her chin. “Magic can’t turn humans into cats. But Lady Byleth is no ordinary human. And…we were playing around with a lot of highly experimental spells yesterday…yeah, this isn’t making me sound great.”

“We all vote that this cat is my wife?” The room nodded as one. Dimitri slumped, tension unwinding from his frame as he exhaled. “Thank the goddess. I was so damn worried…thank the goddess, truly.”

“Was that really the problem here?” Sylvain asked. “Not the wife cat situation?”

Dimitri’s expression tightened unhappily. “I deny it sometimes, Sylvain, but I can tell when my mind is cloudy. Having delusions like this while knowing my mind is clear…it made me doubt a lot of things. I’ve been unsettled all day.”

Damn it. Felix felt horrible. “It’s not on you, Dimitri. I completely shut you down last night. I know you don’t want me humoring you, but I should have heard you out.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dimitri said, absolutely predictably. “I’m hardly a - a reliable source. Really, considering how I betrayed your trust in me as a friend and leader, I couldn’t possibly ask you to trust me at all, let alone in such a ridiculous situation -”

Fantastic, Felix no longer felt bad. “Shut the fuck up, you’re so annoying. Aren’t you done with your apology tour by now?”

Dimitri scowled at him. “I’ll stop apologizing when I stop doing things to apologize for.”

“You never feel guilty for the right thing, you know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You two are far too old for this,” Sylvain said severely, and both men shut up. “Felix, save the tough love for when Byleth isn’t a cat. Dimitri, wait until Byleth’s finished being a cat before you start self-flagellating again. Annette, were you really hitting Lady Byleth with random spells yesterday?”

Annette, the true wrong-doer in the situation, abruptly looked a little shifty. “It was scientific experimentation.”

“On the queen of  Faerghus?”

“She said she was bored!”

“So you turned her into a cat?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Annette cried. “I was trying to invent a spell to improve eyesight! How was I supposed to know it would turn the queen of  Faerghus into a cat?” She drooped, crushed by the weight of her own sins. “Oh, I never should have tried mixing Reason and Fate theorems into the same proof. This is what happens when we try getting experimental…I’m so sorry, Dimitri. And Byleth.”

“Magic can’t turn people into cats,” Felix hissed. “You’re doing fake magic.”

“It’s not fake if it works! You’re just a classicist.”

“Improvisation magic doesn’t create new theorems, it creates explosions. And cats.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous I managed to turn the Professor into a cat and you couldn’t.”

“I could turn Byleth into a cat if I wanted -”

“If I was literally any other king,” Dimitri ground out, strangled, “and you were any other court magician, you would be fired at best for using the queen as an experimental subject. My grandfather executed court magicians for less.”

Felix straightened, scowling. “Are you threatening my wife -”

“Shut the fuck up for once, Felix!” Sylvain snapped. “You can’t threaten the king!”

“Oh, you’re always taking his side -”

“You’re always making me point out the absolute obvious -”

Dimitri scowled, looking away. “I was the one pointing out the obvious. I wasn’t threatening - that wasn’t the intention, Annette, I just -”

“It’s alright,” Annette said miserably. “You’re right. I got too excited and stopped thinking things through again. I’m a failure as a court magician.”

“You’re the most talented magician I know, Annette,” Dimitri said, all soppy earnest. Ugh. As if he wasn’t totally threatening her a second ago. “You aren’t a failure at all. I admire you greatly.”

“Aw, Dimitri. Thank you -”

“But if you fail in un-catting my wife you are in very serious trouble with the royal family of Fodlan.”

“See!” Felix cried, throwing out a hand. “An obvious threat!”

Cat Byleth meowed disapprovingly. She blinked at them, somehow with great intention. Everybody fell silent in absolute shame and mumbled apologies. Dimitri was a little red.

Finally, Ingrid coughed a little. “I think we can all agree some mistakes have been made tonight.” Everybody looked at the floor. “Let’s just focus on solving the problem. Your Majesty?”

“Right.” Dimitri kissed the top of Cat Byleth’s head, making her mrrp adorably. “Annette, you drop everything you’re doing and fix her as soon as possible.” Annette opened her mouth, ready to argue on behalf of her three other deadlines. She had moaned about the imminent book chapter final submission deadline for a week. “That’s an order. If you miss a deadline then tell them to take it up with me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I just hope I can.” Annette picked at the luxurious comforter, desolate. “This happened because I used Faith magic beyond my level of expertise. A novice can tangle a knot in seconds that a master would take hours to fix. I wish Mercedes was here…she knows enough about white and black magic to diagnose the problem immediately.”

“Is she the only Gremory in Fhirdiad?”

“She’s one of seven in Fodlan, and four of them are in Adrestia. Two are in the ex-Alliance. She’s the only Gremory in  Faerghus.” Annette muttered something uncomplimentary about Adrestria hoarding all of the good magicians.

“Then bring Mercedes here. Requisition the Adrestian mages if you have to.”

Sylvain straightened, eyes widening. “She’s over two weeks travel away, Dimitri.”

Dimitri looked back to Annette, who was clearly falling into despair. “Can you fix her yourself, Annette?”

Annette hesitated, biting her lip. “If I study hard, maybe. Or I might turn her into a smaller cat…or I might blow her up…”

“We’re calling in Mercedes. If Byleth is a cat for two weeks, then she’s a cat for two weeks.” Dimitri glanced at Sylvain for the first time, thoughtful. “Ask her to bring Felipe. Might as well make something good out of this. I still haven’t met him yet.” 

“Aaaa,” Sylvain said.

“You haven’t?” Ingrid asked, surprised. “But you gave him that ridiculous birthday gift.”

“There is no point to conquering a country if you can’t give its smaller islands to a baby,” Dimitri said stiffly. “I want to meet him. I also want this problem fixed.” He looked sternly at Annette and Felix, who abruptly both looked at the ceiling. “This was an accident, and accidents happen. I do not intend for anybody to find out about this. I don’t intend on punishing anybody right now. But if the accident is not fixed I will hold the house of Fraldarius responsible. And yes, Felix. That is a threat.”

“That’s fair,” Annette said, desolate beyond what her peppy little heart deserved. “I really am sorry, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri softened, and he held the cat a little closer to his chest. “It’s still Dimitri. Trust me, Annette. This would be an inconsequential matter if it was only myself. But it’s Byleth’s safety that I’m worried about. I have to take that seriously.”

“We all do,” Ingrid said gently. “We’re all just as worried as you, Dimitri. We’ll work together on fixing this. There’s nothing Mercedes can’t do, so we’ll just have to hang on until then.”

Felix was not just as worried as the rest of them. But this was severely not the time or place to say so. He just nodded solemnly with everybody else. 

“And please have somebody keep an eye on her. I don’t want her run over by a carriage or eaten by wolves.” Something disturbing clearly occurred to Dimitri. “Or want kitten children.”

“Ew,” Annette said.

“I’d love them anyway, of course,” Dimitri continued to himself. “But it would still be strange. They couldn’t exactly have a place in the line of succession…but we couldn’t just give them away…”

“What if she was pregnant when she got turned into a cat?” Felix asked, bored. “She could give birth to kittens that are genetically yours.”

“Oh, goddess,” Dimitri said, paling, “she totally could.”

“She could not, I’m obviously fucking with you -”

Sylvain just looked pained. “Felix, please stop teasing Dimitri.”

“But it’s so easy.”

And then they were all off again, and Cat Byleth took a luxurious nap to the sound of her students’ incessant bickering. 

***

Felix had a small secret: he wasn’t really all that worried.

He also wasn’t seventeen anymore, and he now understood that certain sentiments had a certain time and a place. Annette’s well-intentioned carelessness had already put them both in hot water with Dimitri - it would push their luck if Felix was seen acting as if this was a good thing. It was, in fact, somewhat dangerous - Felix had faith in Byleth’s ability to win in a territory fight against another animal, but he didn’t like her odds against a carriage or a monster. But Byleth had survived much less stupid situations than this, and Felix had decided to kick up his heels and relax. This was, after all, a good thing.

It was obvious. Felix would wonder why nobody else saw it, but he knew how oblivious and self-absorbed everybody else was. They were all too wrapped up in their own stress and projecting all of it to realize the straightforward truth. Mercedes would notice, but she was a handy second reason why this was a good thing. She would agree with Felix immediately: that Byleth was honestly living her best life. 

Despite what the overgrown children around him thought, Byleth didn’t actually live to work. Byleth’s ideal day - as recited during a Special Tea Time years ago - consisted of training for a few hours in the morning, fishing for eight hours, eating three giant meals, sitting in companionable silence with Dimitri, and holding a Blue Lions sleepover at night. Three naps had been mandatory: one at ten in the morning, another at two in the afternoon after a big lunch, and another at five in the afternoon after a hard day fishing. 

The woman was the queen of  Faerghus slash Fodlan and had no opportunity to spend all day doing nothing but fish. She was busy every second, and had been for as long as Felix knew her. There was no such thing as a day spent lazing around in Byleth’s world. In a cat’s…

So far as Felix could tell, Cat Byleth did nothing other than hunt, sleep, and cuddle with them. Felix figured that it was actively mean to undo this spell too quickly. He knew better than to vocalize this opinion. Mercedes would agree with him. 

Some people were meant to be born a Lagunz or beastkin or something. This was probably righting a natural order of things. Maybe restoring Byleth to cat-hood would lift the curse on the Fraldarius family bloodline. Which Glenn might have invented to tease him, but it was real, damn it. 

“Look,” Felix told his lovely wife, “I’m just saying. We still don’t know where the hell she came from. It’s not physically possible for a person to develop human emotion after they finished puberty. And Seteth kept saying that Jeralt hadn’t aged a day in twenty years. You know what species ages slowly?”

His lovely wife hadn’t been accommodating. “Goodness, Felix, not another one of your conspiracy theories.”

“Conspiracy theories?” Felix had yelled, throwing up his hands. “What conspiracy theories? You mean my famous conspiracy theory, the one where Dimitri’s -” A violently vengeful murder-happy psycho with severe mental problems, which Felix didn’t feel comfortable saying anymore. He hadn’t vocalized a thirst for murder in more than a year. “ - you know. That one? The true one? The fact?”

“There’s a perfectly good explanation for why Lady Byleth is a freak of nature,” Annette said primly. “She told me herself.”

“Yeah? What was it?”

Annette halted. “Uh. You know, the picture was a little unclear…”

“You know what’s clear as crystal to me?!”

Maybe Annette hadn’t turned Byleth into a cat after all. Maybe she had just disrupted the magic creating a human form. Maybe this was Byleth’s natural state. Strangely, nobody wanted to hear this. 

Regardless, it wasn’t a safe situation. A ten pound apex predator was still ten pounds, and no matter how proficient she was against prey or other cats she wouldn’t match up to a cart or a horse. Dimitri was still unironically fretting about boy cats, and for once his paranoia was disturbingly plausible. The Blue Lions were busy people, but they could keep a 24/7 eye on a cat, right?

Annette tried keeping Cat Byleth locked in her mage’s tower. Cat Byleth escaped twice, knocked over expensive potion ingredients three times, and almost ingested a potion that would not have sat well with a cat’s delicate stomach. At the risk of Dimitri smiting their house with a lightning bolt, Annette was in no position to keep an eye on her.

Neither were the rest of them, who were far too mobile around the castle. Trying to keep her inside their chambers, even Dimitri’s gigantic ones, was hugely unsuccessful - when she wasn’t meowing miserably she was pulling objectively impressive escape attempts. They all silently wished that they had some sort of tactical genius or something around to solve their problems for them. Their two best tacticians were physically and emotionally compromised again. Time to pull in their tied third best tacticians. Or just one of their third best tacticians - Annette had been banned from further ideas, lest she make things worse again. 

“It’s alright,” Sylvain said grimly. “I have an idea.” 

“Oh boy,” Felix said. “I’m looking forward to this one.”

The idea involved a trembling servant boy. Balad was around fourteen years old, and clearly from Duscur - a beneficiary of Dimitri’s affirmative action hiring policies. The castle had a school for servant children and children of servants and everything. Insane quantity of orphans in this castle. Man never stopped projecting.

“This is a cat,” Sylvain told Balad. He passed Cat Byleth to Balad, who accepted her with a trembling sincerity. “This cat is your new job. Do not let her out of your sight. I’ve spoken with the chamberlain, so this is your only job for the next few weeks.” He stared Balad down firmly, who was already staring down his doom into Cat Byleth’s guileless eyes. “This cat’s safety is of paramount importance. Do you understand, Balad? We’ll give you a big reward for looking after her, but if anything happens you’ll get in big trouble.”

Balad stiffened, holding the cat closely to his chest. Byleth liked children, and she immediately began snuggling in Balad’s arms. “Y - yes, my lord! I will put my life on the line!”

“Normally that would be a pretty extreme thing to say,” Felix yawned. “But in this instance…yup.”

Balad looked down at Cat Byleth as if her large eyes held the future. Cat Byleth mrrp’d. 

Felix remembered youth. How unpleasant and depressing youth had been. Everything had been life or death, even the actual life or death bits. There was a reason they’d put an immigrant teenage boy on the job - a knight would have eventually thought to himself, ‘This is just a cat, it’s ridiculous. Surely it can’t be that big of a deal’. But an immigrant teenage boy with his job on the line was probably convinced his life was on the line, and he would apply himself to the task with attentiveness five times greater than a knight could hope to reach. Felix and Sylvain knew this intimately - it was straight out of the Professor’s playbook.

Still, you had to miss the unique adventures that only a fourteen year old could have. Felix was a boring adult and wasn’t privy to a single one, but he occasionally held the privilege of catching glimpses out of whatever stupid shit poor Balad was dealing with that day. 

Over the next two weeks, Felix saw: Balad hanging upside down from the rafters, Cat Byleth precariously held in his arms. Balad bravely rescuing Cat Byleth from the overly affectionate arms of a small gaggle of five year old girls. Balad in the cathedral, teaching Cat Byleth Duscurian prayer rituals. And, obviously, chasing after her as she ran through the kitchen and got paw prints in the flour. 

Felix had the privilege of interrupting that one. He was passing by the kitchen as he heard a great commotion and sequence of crashes, and after a few seconds of exhausted deliberation he figured that he ought to do something about it. Felix looped around until he stood in front of the double entry doors in the staff mess area, crossing his arms and waiting patiently.

His patience bore fruit only a minute later. The doors blew open as a cat rushed out at breakneck speed, and Felix silently squatted down and grabbed the cat out of midair. Felix held her by the stomach with both hands and held her up for scrutiny, letting her dangle in the air. She was covered in tomato sauce, flour, and flecks of spinach.

“Having fun?” 

Cat Byleth meowed. She was having the time of her fucking life.

Balad burst through the doors at a dead run only a few seconds after her, and by the time he saw Felix it was too late. Felix, prepared for this, steadied himself and held Cat Byleth out of the way just as Balad collided in a crash-course into Felix, falling back onto his ass as Felix swayed with the motion. 

Balad groaned, rubbing his head and cursing people who stood around useless in halls under his breath. He opened his eyes and witnessed the person standing uselessly in a hall, eyes traveling slowly upwards as he saw Felix holding Cat Byleth and looking down at him with an arched eyebrow. 

Slowly, Felix said, “Missing something?”

“Aaaa,” Balad said.

Felix sighed, holding Cat Byleth up until they made eye contact. He shook her lightly. She swayed happily with the motion. “I’m happy you’re having fun. Really. But do you have to torment serving boys like this?” Cat Byleth meowed happily. “Can’t fault you for honesty, I suppose.”

“I didn’t lose her!” Balad scrambled upwards, panting for breath. There was a clump of dough in his hair, and one of his shoes was lost. “She just - um - I’m sorry, Lord Fraldarius, I swear I had my eyes on her!”

“I believe you,” Felix said, amused. The kid’s determination was beyond admirable. “This one enjoys challenging young people. She thinks it builds character.” He returned Cat Byleth to Balad, who took her with a practiced ease and allowed her to curl up in his arms. “I hope she hasn’t pushed you beyond your limits.”

Balad shook his head fervently, hoisting Byleth in his arms. “This is just practice for knighthood!” Oh, no. This was adorable. “A knight of  Faerghus protects the whole continent - and there’s no creature too small for the first Duscurian Knight to protect, I think - so Eisner’s just good practice!”

Felix’s eyebrows jumped up. “Eisner? As in the queen?”

Far too late, Balad’s eyes widened. Had he overheard them speaking? Serving boys knew when and where to gossip - had he told anybody? “Oh, I’m - I’m sorry, my lord! I apologize! It’s just that - well, it’s just that Eisner really reminds me of Her Grace. Something in her eyes…it’s ordinary to name cats after people you admire in Duscur, my lord, but if it’s disrespectful in  Faerghus - oh, I bet it is disrespectful in  Faerghus -”

“I think Her Grace would be flattered,” Felix said. Balad, who had already begun working himself up into an anxious spiral, abruptly deflated. “The first Duscurian Knight?”

Balad blushed a little, bouncing Cat Byleth and looking at the ground. “Don’t pay that any mind, my lord. Ever since His Majesty made new laws saying foreigners could be knights…no dream comes true if you sit around hoping for it, right? I don’t know a sword, but even I can practice being virtuous…but please pay that no mind, my lord.”

Wow. No wonder Cat Byleth was giving him a hard time.

Felix leaned down, making a show of tilting his ear towards Cat Byleth. “What was that?” Cat Byleth purred. “I see. You’re absolutely sure?” Cat Byleth yawned. “I couldn’t agree more.” Felix straightened, clasping his hands beyond his back and looking seriously down at Balad. “Eisner has spoken. She really thinks you’re Blue Lion material.”

Balad’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “The Blue Lions? Like - like your elite front line combat squadron? The revolutionary heroes?”

“We were students at Garreg Mach first.” Felix propped a hand on his hip, and he allowed himself a half-smile. “The Knight Captain of the Imperial Guard started out as a rebellious student with a dream. And the Royal Spymaster began as a commoner who used the skills he learned on the street to become a hero. They didn’t have anything you don’t have. If you train hard enough, you can protect what’s important to you. That’s all there is to being a Blue Lion. Even a cat knows that.”

Young kids like Balad didn’t associate the Blue Lions with Garreg Mach anymore. Yuri had already begun planning the major changes he’d make to the Academy once Seteth officially let go of the reins of the school and officially transitioned into his new role as Archbishop, and after some requests from Dimitri and Byleth he grew confident enough to start planning the complete overhaul. Yuri had been the first of anybody to see it, but it was Dimitri and Byleth who told everybody else - that there was no unity and cohesion among the continent when the houses grouped into national insularity. And murdered each other later. That put a damper on school spirit.

When something as awful as the Blue Lions could happen - when an institution could produce students who trusted nobody but their own neighbors, who isolated themselves so thoroughly that they could grow up and slaughter their classmates without a second thought. When the Golden Deer and Black Eagles could do the same. In some ways, Byleth Eisner was the greatest and final failure of Garreg Mach.

Besides. They didn’t really have three countries anymore. There was that little detail. 

The four new houses held students from all over the continent. Students from Faerghus, the ex-Alliance territories, and the Territory of Adrestria attended the same houses and mingled in the same classes. There were reserved spots for exchange students from Brigid, Almyra, and even Sreng. A new definition of unity, to be sure, but they could only hope it would be a little more effective. Time would tell.

Poor Balad’s eyes were as big as dinner plates. Felix really hoped that the kid wouldn’t internalize these words or something. He was just saying shit. “Wow. Thank you, Lord Fraldarius.” He held Cat Byleth up to eye level, and he smiled for the first time. “What do you think, Eisner? Want to teach me how to be a Blue Lion?”

Cat Byleth meowed. 

Balad grinned, and in an unselfconscious burst of joy he nuzzled her sticky forehead. “I knew I could count on you. The god of trials must have sent you to me.”

Fantastic back-handed compliment. Felix would have to remember that one. “Hey, kid. Do you know any Duscur curse words? Lord Dedue and Lady Mercedes refuse to teach me any -”

With impeccable timing, Cat Byleth jumped out of Balad’s arms and began sprinting down the hall. Balad cried in dismay, and with less than a second’s hesitation he set out after her in a dead run. 

“Wait!” Balad called. “You need a bath, Eisner!”

Cat Byleth’s run turned into a sprint.

Felix watched them go, hands in his pockets. He had always wondered if Lady Byleth would ever take on another group of students. Queens had better things to do, and the continent probably couldn’t handle another year of her teaching style, so Felix had given up and decided it was for the best.

If this was her way of collecting more students, then a retired life was definitely for the best. 

Oh, well. Definitely Sylvain’s problem. 

***

Two and a half weeks after Her Grace Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd’s Great Catting, Mercedes and Felipe Gautier and Dedue Molinaro arrived at the castle. Happy as he was to see his family, these events were definitely Sylvain’s problem.

Hosting visitors as nobility was a huge production, and as usual royalty was twice as bad. They dressed up Mercedes’ visit as just a wife visiting her husband, backflipping out of making it a big thing, but Mercedes’ carriage still pulled up to the outside of the castle and met a giant team of servants, staff, and the Blue Lions themselves. 

Sylvain, standing next to Felix with his hands folded behind his back, was tapping his foot. Then looking at the carriage advancing on them, then checking his watch. Then running his hand through his hair. Then looking at the carriage again.

Felix elbowed him. Sylvain elbowed him back. Felix elbowed him again, harder.

“It’s fine.” Sylvain had a wonderful habit of manifesting his reality. It was the confidence. “I’m excited to see them. It’s great. What if he doesn’t like me?”

  “Dedue? If he was going to stop liking you, it would have happened after the second mock-battle dorm party.”

They both knew that Felix knew who Sylvain was actually talking about, so Sylvain ignored him. “I mean, how hard can it be to win over a baby? You just give them toys, right? What if he likes me too much, and gets upset when I’m not there? Is this a no-win situation?” 

“I think this has been a no-win situation for a while,” Felix said, maybe tactfully. 

According to the professor, in a no-win scenario you shifted your goals from victory towards survival. You stop trying to maximize ground or fortresses captured and start focusing on pulling back and saving fats from the fire. You couldn’t stop the blow, so you just protected yourself against it. It was a strategy Sylvain had understood perfectly well - it was the strategy Sylvain used to live his life, and it always had been. Babies included.

Sylvain’s face twisted, but if he had anything smart to say he didn’t get the chance. The carriage came to a full halt, and the small flight of footmen opened the door and helped the noble lady descend the stairs. 

It was Mercedes, baby strapped to her back and smiling widely at them, and Sylvain lost all sense of propriety.

He lurched forward, pushing through the crowd and flying down the castle steps. He was supposed to wait for Dimitri to greet her, for some sort of official reception - but the same Sylvain who fretted for days over her arrival couldn’t wait one more second. Mercedes’ smile turned into a grin, and when Sylvain wrapped her in a hug she eagerly reciprocated. They stood there together, clinging onto each other, for the scarce few seconds Mercedes and Sylvain would ever allow themselves, before separating.

Miracle of miracles, Mercedes even unfolded Felipe from her back and balanced him on her hip. Whoah. He had gotten huge. Felipe sucked on a fist, watching the proceedings with wide eyes, and Sylvain bent over him for a few seconds. Mercedes and Sylvain’s body blocked Felix’s view, and whatever look may have been on Sylvain’s face or how Felipe may have reacted was lost to all but the two of them.

Then Dedue stepped out, as hulking and stone-faced as always. He looked good, tanned and relaxed. He was dressed in the clothing of his homeland - an interesting bit of political messaging. Felix glanced to his right, and completely predictably saw Dimitri grinning widely. He was clearly about two seconds from running up and hugging him too. Great. 

It wasn’t that Felix had a problem with Dedue. His personality was completely inoffensive, which wasn’t something you could say about Felix. As a comrade on the field, he was second-to-none. And he was a Blue Lion - ‘nuff said. Felix would die for the guy, the guy would die for him, etc. 

But Felix really didn’t think he was a good friend. Nobody who saw Dimitri suffer like that for years and helped him grow worse was anything resembling a good friend. Maybe if he saw Dimitri during those five years and fucking hand-fed him like the rest of them he would have realized the impact of the choices he’d made, but the guy had been a little busy living in hiding after he sacrificed his life for Dimitri’s. Which was why it was a little hard to hate him. Ugh. Felix was so brave for not picking a fight about this. 

“Lady Gautier!” Dimitri called, his usually monotone voice tinged with an emotion that made it seem positively jovial. “Lord Molinaro! Well met! I trust your trip was uneventful?”

Mercedes curtseyed, in an impressive balancing act with the baby in her arm. “Greetings from House Gautier to His Majesty. We’re happy to answer His Majesty’s summons. Our trip was delightful.”

Dedue bowed, stiff as ever. “I am honored by the invitation, Your Majesty. Blessings from Duscur unto  Faerghus.”

“Good! The servants will set you up. Now, for the most important business.” Dimitri stepped forward, descending the steps, and Mercedes and Dedue walked up to meet him. Sylvain hastily followed, hovering at Mercedes’ elbow.

Dimitri clasped Dedue’s hand, hugging him fiercely. Said a lot about Dedue’s sheer bulk that he handled a hug from Dimitri so tightly, but Felix knew Dedue gripped onto him just as tightly. They embraced closer than any lord and vassal ever would, probably more than two friends might, and they hung onto each other for just a little bit longer. 

They separated, Dimitri’s eye bright, and he clasped Dedue’s arm a final time. “You look well.” 

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“I was surprised that you elected to join Mercedes. Last time I checked the orphanage and school needed constant supervision.” 

“I am pleased to say that they have grown stable. We left them in the capable hands of our staff. Viscount Meroe asked me to approach you regarding several matters.”

‘Ownership’ of Duscur had been neatly stripped from Viscount Kleiman and given to the elected leader of the surviving Duscuran people, who quickly re-assembled a stripped-down version of their old government. The woman was pants-shittingly terrifying and Felix had to fight the urge to give her whatever she wanted just to make her go away each time she showed up. Dedue was highly placed in their new government, but his primary role was as a link between Duscur and the king. He seemed happiest co-leading the orphanage and school with Mercedes, but the guy was the type to put duty before pleasure.

“I’ll have my secretary contact you and we can have a long conversation.” Dimitri gave him a final clap on the shoulder before turning to Mercedes and Sylvain, smile brightening. “Now! Most importantly! Do I finally have the honor of meeting the heir of House Gautier?”

Mercedes giggled, approaching Dimitri and presenting Felipe with faux-ceremony. “The honor is ours. Your Majesty, I’d like to present the young lord Felipe Emilie Gautier. Felipe, this is Uncle Dimitri. Say hello, Felipe!”

Felipe sucked on a knuckle. The kid had been pretty squishy and raisin-like when Felix first saw him, but even Felix had to admit now that he was an objectively beautiful, adorable child. It was the fantastic genes. Kid could have walked out of a painting. One of the twee ones. 

“Bah bah?” Felipe asked the king of the continent. 

“This is the perfect child,” the king of the continent decided.

Mercedes laughed, bouncing Felipe lightly on her hip. “You flatter us, Your Majesty. He’s certainly perfect to us.”

“I think it’s objective,” Dimitri said, almost heated. Ingrid, standing on the other end of the courtyard from Felix, made an exhausted face at Felix. Felix mimed shooting himself with his fingers. Annette had the right idea preparing their surprise cake in the kitchen. “I can’t believe I never met him before. He’s adorable, you two! He’s chubby! And look at his hair! He seems so soft!”

“Burble burble wah,” Felipe asserted.

“When is his next birthday?” Dimitri demanded. “A month? Can he have it here? How long do you think it’ll take before he can call me Uncle Dimitri?”

“Certainly not for a while,” Sylvain said, exasperated. Mercedes was outright laughing now. Dedue was hiding a smile behind a hand. “Do you want to hold hi -”

“Absolutely not. But come inside, he must be tired. You all must be tired. The servants told me we have baby accouterments for guests, but let the chamberlain know if you need anything and we’ll have it brought right away.” Abruptly, almost stressed, Dimtiri said, “Can he understand what I’m saying yet? What is his level of linguistic proficiency?”

Dedue sighed, badly fighting a smile. “Not much, but sometimes he surprises you. I believe he understands Duscuran better than the language of Fodlan.” Sylvain’s eyebrows rocketed upwards, and Dedue nodded in half-apology. “Mercedes and I try to speak Adrestian to him at home, but because he lives in Duscur I believe he’s more comfortable with our language.”

“He’s multicultural,” Dimitri whispered.

“Ah,” Sylvain said. “I didn’t - really think about that.”

Dimitri said something very seriously to Felipe in Duscuran. 

“Wah wah wah,” Felipe agreed.

“Did he understand that?!”

“Can we please go inside,” Felix said. “Please.”

***

Balad sat in front of the high nobility of  Faerghus, quaking in his boots and holding a cat. 

He was sat on a stool at Annette’s workbench, tasked with the vital job of keeping Cat Byleth still while Mercedes carefully inspected her. The child was not coping well with almost the entire assembled original Blue Lions in front of him, but he was keeping a stiff upper lip about the matter. He seemed to have decided that, so long as he didn’t say a single word, they couldn’t chop his head off. Bizarrely, Balad sat closest to Felix and made sad eyes at him when he tried to get up and leave. 

Mercedes hummed, finally closing out the diagnostic spells. She had been scrutinizing the cat for a solid ten minutes, which was longer than it took her to identify most poisons. She leaned back on her stool, exhaling heavily.

“I’m glad you waited for me to arrive, Annie.” The words were completely innocuous. Annette’s face fell. Everybody hissed. “Don’t worry, the magic isn’t dangerous. It’s just a little tricky. If you give me a day to write the counter-spell, I can have her all fixed up in half an hour.”

Dimitri brightened. He was sitting next to Balad, giving the boy a constant low-level heart attack. “Really? You’re a lifesaver, Mercedes!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the woman who single handedly prevented five plague outbreaks and significantly contributed to ending a war said. “And please don’t be too hard on yourself over this, Annie. Every great inventor blows up a few labs here and there! Why, just the other day, Coco wrote to tell me how the entire kitchen was -” “We really let those rat people teach the future leaders of Fodlan, huh?” Felix muttered. 

Sylvain arched an eyebrow at him. “I think it was a great idea. You couldn’t find a group of people more dedicated to Garreg Mach. Or a more neutral party.”

“Yeah,” Felix panned, “they hate all of Fodlan equally.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Thank the Goddess,” Annette sighed. Poor woman was exhausted - Felix had barely seen her the last two weeks. “I’m never getting experimental again. It’s just not worth all the stress.” She paused a second in thought before adding, “Of course, this was a practically unprecedented spell. Faith/Reason magic is a highly under-studied field. If I could recreate it, maybe I could publish a paper on -”

“No!” Everyone shouted in unison.

Everybody but Felix, who just yawned. “Beat you to it. Wrote a thesis on transformation magic for extra credit near the end of school. Lady Byleth gave me a new sword as a reward.”

“Damn it, Felix! Why are you always trying to one-up me?”

“I don’t have to try.”

Annette looked at Ingrid, who leaned against a spare workbench next to him. “I forgot how she used to give us new weaponry if we learned a subject well. I thought good grades were good enough for most students…”

“Did any of us really care about grades by the end of it?” Ingrid asked wryly. “The closest Lady Byleth could get to educating Dimitri was locking him in the classroom with us and seeing how long he could last before he started pacing around the room.”

Dedue said something sternly to Balad in their language, making Balad pale and stutter something back. Ingrid abruptly remembered that little pitchers had big ears and shut up, a little embarrassed. 

But Dimitri just smiled at Balad and said something to him in perfect Duscuran. The kid stuttered something out too, but at a little more gentle prodding he began opening up. Dimitri pointed at Cat Byleth, who was napping peacefully in Balad’s arms, and Balad lifted her up and excitedly began chattering. Felix recognized that face by now - she had done something freakishly intelligent and Balad was very proud of her for it. Dimitri nodded, attention rapt.

Finally, when Balad sheepishly wrapped up his story, Dimitri switched back to their native language. “Regardless, I understand Sylvain promised you a good reward for your hard work. What would you like? You’ve done a fine job, so don’t be modest.”

“Oh. Um.” Balad scratched Cat Byleth’s ruff, looking down. “Does Eisner have an owner?”

Immediately, Dimitri said, “Not at all. She’s a free spirit.”

“She owns us, really,” Felix said.

“It’s an equal partnership, Felix!”

“Uh huh.”

“She’s a cat,” Ingrid said flatly. “She owns the castle.” Felix opened his mouth. “More so than usual.”

“Then…if it’s possible…” Balad flushed, but Felix saw him visibly screw up his courage. “...could I keep her?”

The entire assembled original Blue Lions stared at Balad.

He flushed deeper, but he held his ground. “I’d take really good care of her! It’s dangerous to be a stray cat, you know. There’s fleas and kitty gang fights. I’ve seen them myself. I think she’s gotten attached to me, too…maybe? It’s hard to tell with cats…but I really would be a good owner.” Balad turned up big cow eyes at Dimitri, who kept his now-usual poker face. “So…that’s the reward I’d ask for, Your Majesty.”

A long silence stretched across the room.

Dedue pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. He said something to Balad - something which probably wasn’t hostile or harsh, but was definitely unhappy. Balad paled. Dimitri quickly said something back to Dedue, with an intonation that sounded heavily like ‘don’t give him a hard time’. Dedue said something back, a little harder. 

Then Mercedes broke into laughter, and the spell was lifted. Every Blue Lion started wheezing. Mercedes buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking with laughter, and Sylvain was almost bent over in cackles. Annette was trying valiantly to keep a straight face, but her complexion almost turned red with the effort before she gave up and started snickering. Ingrid’s face was buried in her hands, wheezing. Felix smiled. 

In Adrestian, Dedue said, “It’s not funny.”

“Man,” Sylvain wheezed, “it’s so fucking funny.”

“It’s disrespectful.” Poor Balad paled considerably. “As a representative of our people, it is -”

“A misunderstanding,” Felix said, and he was surprised by the firmness of his tone. “He’s not representing your people, he’s fourteen. Trust me, anybody who wants to stick around that shithead cat is a saint.” 

“Felix!” Dimitri’s eyebrow twitched, scandalized. “Don’t call her a shithead!”

“Why not? She calls me a shithead.”

“Yes, but you don’t have the excuse of being a cat.”

Mercedes giggled again. “Aren’t cats sacred in Duscur? What’s more respectful than that?” 

Dedue sighed, still kneading his forehead, but for the first time his lip quirked upwards in a smile. “By that logic, I suppose a servant from Duscur was the best choice in the castle.”

The corner of Dimitri’s lip curled too, a subtle match for Dedue. “You can admit you find it funny too, Dedue.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Your Majesty.” 

“She wouldn’t mind.”

“She better not,” Felix said flatly. “This is her fault too. A mage should know better than to use experimental magic on themselves. Her magic’s unique, anyway - no wonder something this bizarre happened.” Something troubling occurred to Felix. “Maybe cats are sacred in Fodlan too…”

Mercedes straightened, eyes widening. “Felix, you’re right! This wouldn’t have happened without Her Grace’s sacred magical energy.” Yeah, because humans can’t turn into cats. “Maybe the Goddess is…oh, wouldn’t that be interesting? I have to tell Yuri.” 

Ingrid hummed thoughtfully. “That would explain all of the stray cats at the monastery.” 

“Sure,” Sylvain said flatly, “let’s incorporate this into our worldview. The Goddess is also a Goddess of cats. If we decide it’s true then it has to be. That’s how religion works.”

Annette shrugged helplessly. “If anybody gets to decide how religion works, isn’t it the vessel of the Goddess?”

“We’ll have to ask her later.” Dimitri looked down at the sleeping cat in Balad’s arms, eye softening. “Thank you for your hard work Mercedes. Knowing this ordeal will be over tomorrow is a fantastic relief. Perhaps we can enjoy a small break in the meantime.” Dimitri half-smiled, crooked and stiff. “So many of us Blue Lions are here. That hardly happens every day. I’ve already arranged for a large feast tonight, with Dedue and Mercy’s favorites - why don’t we take some time off and schedule an activity for the day after tomorrow? After Byleth is cured.” 

Ingrid brightened. “I could take a half-day. How about a picnic, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri’s eye crinkled. “Byleth would like that. I’m certain we could put something together. One second.” Dimitri looked to the right, at the stone wall. “Please, I’m in a meeting. You have to quiet down. I don’t know where your knife is.” He turned back to Sylvain. “I apologize for the interruption. What were we talking about?”

“Ingrid suggested we go on a picnic tomorrow, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri looked at the right wall again, brow furrowed, and didn’t say anything. 

“Your Majesty,” Dedue said, even and steadfast, “are you with us?”

Something was louder than Dedue, and Dimitri’s attention was caught. Sylvain and Felix exchanged glances, thinking the same thing in unison. Downplaying Dimitri’s condition was no longer a matter of the war effort, and most of the castle was aware that the king had a chronic illness that left him spacey and moody, but it was best that the servants outside of Dimitri’s inner circle of servants saw as little of it as possible. 

But Balad moved before either of them. Cat Byleth had woken up, paw batting in Dimitri’s direction, and Balad was carefully moving Cat Byleth from his lap to Dimitri’s. Cat Byleth eagerly slithered down from Balad’s grip into Dimitri’s lap, and she began pawing at Dimitri’s shirt immediately. 

An old, ugly memory flashed in Felix’s mind - the Professor crying out in pain as a rabid Dimitri grabbed her arm, wanting to feel angry but fighting an overwhelming crush of fear instead - and he found himself starting forwards too. 

But when Dimitri began absently petting Cat Byleth his touch was gentle, and his expression focused after only a few seconds of cuddling with her. He blinked hard, scratching Cat Byleth on the ruff, before looking back at the Blue Lions.

“Sorry, I must have dozed off.” Did he think that or was he instinctively trying to cover? It was always hard to tell. “I ought to…”

And, as always, Sylvain was right there in front of him. Already handling it all. “Rest? Of course, Your Majesty.” Sylvain quickly scooped Cat Byleth up from Dimitri’s lap, making her meow in protest, and deposited her back in Balad’s hastily outstretched arms. “The serving boy will entertain and play with Her Grace while you take it easy. Why don’t you take a nap or something and we’ll call you when the feast is ready?”

Dimitri scowled, but he allowed Sylvain to pull him up. “I’m perfectly fine, Sylvain.”

No doubt, but that wasn’t the point. Felix crossed his arms. “How much sleep did you get last night?” Dimitri looked at the ceiling. “Uh huh. If you want to be mentally present tomorrow instead of spacing out all the time, then you should get some rest.”

“Yes, yes.” Dimitri sighed, waving a hand. “You’re forbidden from working tomorrow, Sylvain. Spend the time with your family.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“How exciting,” Mercedes said, clapping her hands and smiling. “I’m going to make a nice big cake for the picnic tomorrow.” Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “Yes, yes, after I fix Lady Byleth. Annie, are you thinking orange or lemon?”

“Can Dedue make something?” Annette burst out. “It’s been forever since I’ve had his cooking!”

Dedue sighed, smiling. “Of course. I was already planning the menu.”

Ingrid thrust her hand in the air. “That honey pastry, please! Double servings!”

“Mercedes has grown adept at making that dish as well.”

“Then you’ll both have to make some,” Sylvain decided. “So we can see whose is better, of course.”

“Oh, darling, there’s no need to grow competitive. Dedue’s the best cook I’ve ever known.” Mercedes paused an ominous beat. “But baking and cooking are two very different skills.”

“You do not know what you have walked into,” Dedue told Sylvain. Felix trusted him - Mercedes had a crazy glint in her eye. “Our culinary battle has grown fierce in the last few months.”

“Stir-crazy?” Sylvain asked sympathetically.

“Blame the infant.”

“Yikes,” Sylvain said, about his own infant. 

“That explains some things,” Dimitri said, clearly impressed despite himself. “After too long locked in a house with me, Mercedes would grow  - if you excuse the pejorative term, Lady Byleth - somewhat…catty at the markets?”

“You’re misremembering, Your Majesty,” Mercedes said beneficently. “That never happened.”

“I - ah, if you say so, perhaps…”

“That’s not ethical, Mercie,” Annette said.

“Oh? Does it turn Dimitri into a cat too?”

“That was almost three weeks ago!” Annette cried, throwing her hands up. “Why aren’t we over this yet? Are you going to bring it up forever?”

Sylvain pinched the bridge of his nose. “She is still a cat, Annie.”

“I knew it,” Balad whispered. 

***

Cat and baby faced each other across the field of battle.

Baby lay on his stomach, pushed upright on his two hands and gawking at his adversary. He reached out a hand, testing the reach of his weapon. 

The cat sat on her haunches, surveying the position of her enemy. She swiveled her head to stare at the neutral parties lying on their stomachs a few feet away watching them. She requested additional information from their scouts. The neutral parties shook their heads regretfully. This battlefield was her own.

The baby made the first move. He crawled forward, advancing on the cat’s captured territory (her side of the rug). In a shocking move, the baby babbled a long, incoherent stream of noise. The tone sounded friendly - was it a request for parley? Or was it a vow of battle? When the only language the two parties held in common was the language of death, perhaps all attempts at negotiation would be futile.

The cat uncurled, stretching forward and sniffing the baby hesitantly. Cautious as always, the cat was taking the time to gain a sense of the enemy’s strength. Or was it a tentative reciprocation of the baby’s gesture for peace? Was it possible for this fight to end without bloodshed? Would the sun set on a green and pristine field today, unmarred by splatters of blood? Was such a thing even imaginable?

Then, in the midst of negotiations, the baby struck. He reached out a chubby fist and grabbed the cat’s fluffy midnight blue fur. First blood went to him. War had begun. 

The cat’s counter-strike was instant. She batted at his hand, a light knock that was somehow reminiscent of hitting a student on the head with a wooden training sword. The baby felt the attack acutely, and withdrew his hand. The neutral parties readied themselves for a war cry of the wounded, but the baby only babbled at the cat again. This one was almost…recriminatory. Fascinating.

“Is he scolding her?” Felix asked.

“I thought she was scolding him,” Sylvain said. “Her claws aren’t out, right? She’s not going to scratch him? Maybe we should break this up.”

“Are you kidding? This is the funniest thing that’s happened to me in the last six months.”

The cat slunk forward - pressing her advantage, delivering a follow-up strike? The baby thrust out another hand, but it didn’t seem like an attack - more of a simple reach, almost an ache. The cat batted at his hand anyway. 

The baby stuck out his hand. The cat batted it away. 

The baby giggled. 

Sylvain groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. “Dimitri was right. He’s the cutest baby. I can’t believe it. It’s like he knows he’s adorable! He targets his cuteness whenever he wants something!”

Felix did not state the obvious. It hung loudly in the air between them.

“Shut up. It’s because he’s smart. Way smarter than me, probably. Did you know he started standing at only eight months? Apparently that’s really early. He has these little Duscuran picture books - apparently he loves them, do you think he’s going to become a big reader? - and when he wants Dedue to read them to him, he crawls over and starts trying to get the books from the bin himself. He fell into the bin that way! Isn’t that cute or what?”

The genius of the century crawled closer towards probably the smartest cat in Fodlan. With a great and terrible ceremony, the baby reached out and gently patted the cat’s fur. More like smacked, honestly, but the cat seemed to understand the intent. 

“He didn’t cry when he saw me.” There was something so awful and fragile on Sylvain’s face, too close to breaking to ever be called happiness. “I was terrified of that happening. I couldn’t stop imagining it. But he saw me, and he - he just looked curious, you know? Mercie says he’s a real curious kid. Always getting into stuff. Apparently every stranger is just a friend he hasn’t met yet! Can you believe it? He’s going to be a handful when he starts running around.”

Felix hummed, propping his chin on his hands. “Why are you so surprised that he’s a great kid? Did you think he’d be a terror?”

“I knew he’d be great,” Sylvain said, instantly defensive. “I just - I just didn’t realize I’d get so excited about it. I didn’t think it would make me feel this way. I thought I’d be immune or something.”

“To loving your own kid?”

“Do I love him?” 

Felix turned to look at Sylvain for the first time, incredulous. “Am I the person to ask about that?”

But Sylvain just shrugged, and for the first time Felix saw the strange shadow of desperation over his expression. “You’re always noticing things nobody else does, Felix. Do you think I love him?”

It was, obviously, a question Sylvain couldn’t answer on his own. The kid had arrived at the castle yesterday, and Sylvain had spent every second since then either hiding from him on the other side of the castle or glued to his side. At this moment, Annette and Mercedes were locked up in the magician’s tower writing the anti-cat counter-spell. For the first time in the little guy’s entire lifespan, Sylvain was babysitting. Normally Felix would say parenting, but he wasn’t certain this counted as parenting. How the hell was he supposed to know. 

Sylvain seemed acutely aware that he was babysitting instead of parenting. Say what you will about Sylvain, he wasn’t in denial about much. He tended to just ignore the feelings he didn’t like. Sylvain clutched onto his resentment with both hands, but Felix suspected that the emotion ran deeper and stronger than even Sylvain was aware of.

“I can’t answer that question for you.” It was the most obvious sentence in the world, but Sylvain sagged anyway. “Is it even important, anyway? The only thing that matters is your actions.”

Wryly, Sylvain said, “And as we’ve well established, my actions are shit.” He looked back at Felipe, who was heroically bridging the gap between their two factions. Cat Byleth was sniffing him curiously as he made cooing noises at her. “I thought I wouldn’t be capable of even liking him. Because - I thought my mind was too full up wondering how old I was when my mother sold me off.”

Cat Byleth rubbed Felipe’s face with her nose. Felipe laughed, tickled by the movement. 

“It was probably five months, right?” There was a bizarre edge of desperation to Sylvain’s voice, poisoned by time. “That’s when most noble babies get tested for their crest. But it’s a pretty expensive test - maybe she had to save up? Or did she tell my father about me soon after I was born, and did he pay for it? How much was she even paid, anyway?” Sylvain took a deep breath, and he was clearly surprised when it shuddered. “I couldn’t have been a good kid. I must have really been awful. I always figured that. But Felipe’s a good kid. So now I’m wondering - Felix, you know, I’m just kind of wondering if -”

Sylvain dropped his head, resting his forehead on the carpet, and breathed. Felix silently lay next to him. He watched Cat Byleth cuddle up around the baby, lying half on top of him with a paw stretched over his chest. Felipe was clearly already growing sleepy. Comfortable, safe, and warm - emotions only Byleth could make children feel. Only Byleth and mothers. 

Even in those dark days, as evil surrounded them and their leader lost his sanity. When Byleth stoked a fire in their classroom’s hearth and they spread their cots around the flames, Felix had felt warm. When they had stayed up late into the night talking and exchanging secrets, Felix had felt safe. As the wind whistled outside of the impenetrable stone walls, Annette’s head pillowed on his chest or Sylvain’s leg entwined with his - even Felix had felt comfortable. Even in those horrible days…

Felix didn’t say anything. He wasn’t Byleth. He didn’t understand, and he never could. Felix was the loved product of a loving couple. Losing Mother had felt like the Goddess reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. It wasn’t a wound he was born with. He had no wisdom or insight for this. In the end, Felix could only say the truth.

“You could ask her, you know. She’s probably still alive.”

Sylvain lifted his head, exhaling heavily. He rested his chin on the heel of his hand, watching the baby slowly lull himself to sleep. “Nah. It’s alright. That’s not really the point, you know?” Despite everything, Felix did know. Sylvain could see that. “Man. Remember the literal nightmares I used to have as a kid about getting babytrapped?”

Felix grimaced. “I remember when you woke me up asking if we had a kid.”

Sylvain ignored him, as he often did. “In my nightmares, I was always so disgusted looking at that baby. Holding it would make my skin crawl. But I don’t feel that at all looking at him now. Do you think it’s because he’s Mercie’s?”

“Who knows.” Felix had the feeling it was more because Felipe was the product of that loving and happy union, but this wasn’t his business. “So are you over your babyphobia now? Ready to be a dad?” Sylvain flinched hard. “That answers that question.”

Felipe’s little hands kneaded Byleth’s coat in his sleep. Byleth blinked slowly and sleepily - refusing to sleep while there was a child to watch out for. 

“I still get so uncomfortable just looking at him.” Despite his words, Sylvain didn’t look away from Cat Byleth and Felipe. “I can’t help it. That disgust…it’s not just the stuff of nightmares, Felix. I do feel it. I just didn’t know I would be disgusted with myself.”

“You know the best way to fix that, right?” Felix raised an eyebrow, and Sylvain awkwardly looked away from him. “Cowardice? In a Blue Lion? In front of Lady Byleth herself?”

Lady Byleth meowed. They both ignored her. 

“There’s never a reason to be afraid. Not so long as we’re here.” Felix reached out and gently elbowed Sylvain, hoping his elbows were as bony as his compatriots’. “Rule Three. Whatever help you need, we’ll give it. None of us fight alone. Felipe’ll have all of us. That simple enough for you?”

Sylvain sighed. “Knew I’d finally get you to say something useful.” He dodged Felix’s mock swing. “I know it, alright? Trust me, I’m already grateful. Dedue’s putting a lot of work into raising him too. I’m glad he has a male figure around.” Felix tsk’d. “Saints, you still don’t like Dedue?”

“He’s always been bad for Dimitri.” Sylvain opened his mouth, and Felix waved him off. “But Dimitri’s worse off without him, so I’ll deal. At least now we know Dimitri definitely wants kids. Not that we needed the confirmation.”

“He’s had their names picked out since he was seventeen,” Sylvain said, dead-eyed. Goddess, the guy was so fucking cringe. His daydreams about the Dimitri-Byleth idyllic perfect children were well-entrenched. But Sylvain hesitated a beat anyway, and Felix found himself sobering too. “If I tell you something, will you - uh, not tell anybody I said it?”

“I’ll do my best,” Felix panned, “but I don’t know how we’ll stop Felipe from tattling.”

“Very funny.” Sylvain picked at a cuticle, expression tight. After a few long moments, he finally said, “Do you think Dimitri’s really fit to be a parent?”

That was a question worth its weight in gold.

But it was also a pretty useless one. Dimitri was having kids. His family hadn’t been very large to begin with, and Cordelia had executed even his most distant cousins. If Dimitri didn’t have kids, it might be the extinction of his legal bloodline. Losing a crest as powerful as Dimitri’s was no joke, and Dimitri had a strong sense of royal duties. 

There was another question, one that Felix knew for a fact Dimitri worried about - if his children would inherit his illness. It was possible. They had hopes that Byleth’s fresh, good, and completely unrelated genes would reduce risk. Felix knew it had almost been enough to stop Dimitri from having the children at all. But Dimitri really did want those kids. He wanted it more than anything: that happily ever after. Finding that family lost. 

But Sylvain hadn’t asked if Dimitri would be having kids, or even if he should. He was wondering if Dimitri’s illness made him capable of being a parent at all. It was a stupid question too - maybe even stupider than the last. Sylvain never learned a thing. 

“Maybe not if he was doing it on his own,” Felix said bluntly. “But they’ll have two parents, idiot. And all of us. When Dimitri’s capable, he’ll be great. And when he’s not, Byleth and us will be here. What are you worrying about such useless things for? Get real problems.” 

And Sylvain just laughed. For a brief second, his faint wrinkles smoothed out, and he looked like the smartest and stupidest man alive again. “Man, we’re fucked up. It takes all of us combined to maybe competently raise only a slightly fucked up kid. Felipe and the future prince don’t stand a chance.”

“Don’t forget Annie’s spawn,” Felix panned. “We’ll have to throw in the towel then.”

“Nah, your kid’ll be fine. They’ll just have to learn how to be mean back.”

“What about Ingrid’s? We know what she’s like as a mother.” Left unsaid: she’d been mothering them all for years. Horrific.

Sylvain shivered. “Yeah, those ones will need our help.”

“As if we don’t have enough work to do.”

Cat Byleth yawned. She finally gave up the ghost and closed her eyes, resting her chin on the gently slumbering Felipe’s chest. Sylvain and Felix kept watch over them as they both slept, and they even stayed long after Felipe woke up crying from unknown nightmares.

***

Felix stood in front of a wooden door.

He stood in the abandoned hallway with the exhausted Sylvain, the stoic Dedue, and the antsy Balad. Felix didn’t know why they had to fucking wait outside while the girls and Dimitri got to stay inside. Something about how Lady Byleth would probably wake up without any clothes. Fucking so? They’d all seen each other naked.

Granted, nobody liked seeing Lady Byleth naked…and she was, objectively, the Queen of  Faerghus…fine, whatever. So Felix would stand outside like she was already having her baby. Poor Balad was clearly wondering how they hadn’t caught him out and sent him back to his chores by now. 

Sylvain scowled, taking a look at his pocketwatch for the fifth time. “It’s been an hour. That’s twice as long as Mercie said it would take.”

“It’s advanced magic,” Dedue said simply. “Give it time.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“And yet my answer remains the same.”

“But I’m bored!” Sylvain groaned. “I have so much work to do, I can’t stand around here forever -”

“I see where Felipe gets it from.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Felix looked down at Balad, who had been the picture of patience for an hour. “Don’t grow up like them.”

Balad blinked up at him, eyes wide and guileless. Please. Servants were the sneakiest people alive. Teenagers were even worse. “I can’t see how I would, my lord.”

Fair. Very fair. 

Before Sylvain could begin to protest the unfair treatment, green light flashed underneath the door. Felix’s eardrums popped, and an acrid smell hit his nostrils. Dedue made a face, and Sylvain obnoxiously coughed. Balad pinched his nose shut, but he looked up at Felix in abject excitement. 

“Did it work? Was that the counter-spell?”

Excited noises sounded from behind the door, and after a second Felix heard a familiar and welcome husky tone. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but grin.

“Yes on both counts, I believe.”

After five more agonizing minutes, the door opened. Byleth stood at the door, dressed in her exercise clothing of a simple shirt and trousers, blinking owlishly at the assembly behind the door. 

She was herself, as she ever was - mint-green hair and eyes, big eyes and placid expression, short stature standing tall. Still the youngest of them all at only twenty four, her air was still indescribably old. All things told - very much like a cat. 

Almost simultaneously, all three men bowed at her. 

“Greetings to Your Grace from our esteemed houses,” Sylvain said crisply, speaking for all of them. Dedue’s house wasn’t esteemed at all, but he slid into the greeting with his honorary baronage. “It’s a pleasure to see you well, Queen Byleth.”

Queen Byleth, Saintess of the Church of Seiros, Queen of  Faerghus-and-kinda-Fodlan, Professor of the House of Blue Lions, blinked at them.

Finally, her esteemed royal and holy personage said, “...a cat?”

Stoically, Sylvain said, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“...why?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask.”

Byleth slowly turned around, looking at the women assembled behind her. Dimitri hovered near the back of the pack, looking anxious.

At her gimlet eyes, the women hurriedly curtsied or bowed. They had probably been too busy with the check-ups and trousers to remember. Or, judging by Annette’s unusual efforts to lead the pack, were skirting responsibility. 

“May the Goddess’ blessing shine upon Your Grace,” Mercedes said smoothly. “I had nothing to do with you turning into a cat.”

“Greetings to Your Grace from House Fraldarius,” Annette said hurriedly. “House Fraldarius is willing to admit that perhaps -”

“Hey,” Felix said, “don’t drag me into this.” 

“ - two people were being irresponsible. Together. As a team.”

“For a month?” Byleth said. 

“As friends, even.”

“Your Grace!” Dimitri quickly weaseled his way through the crowd of women. He stopped in front of Byleth and bowed hurriedly, almost instinctively. “Greetings to Your Grace by His Majesty of Faerghus.” 

Sylvain groaned, clapping a hand over his eyes. “You outrank her -”

Dimtiri didn’t give a shit. “Are you sure you’re alright? Shouldn’t you sit down, my lady? You’ve had a large turn. Perhaps you ought to rest.”

“I feel quite well-rested.” Byleth patted Dimitri’s hand in thoughtful consideration. Dimitri made the most desolate kicked puppy expression. Byleth just turned back to the assembly, scrutinizing the line-up before breaking into a large smile. Well, it was a large smile for Byleth - to people who didn’t know her, it seemed like nothing else but a curl of the lips. “Dedue. Welcome back to  Faerghus.”

Dedue bowed again. He was the only one who maintained the formalities beyond the first few seconds. “It was a pleasure to return, Your Grace.”

Then Byleth’s gaze swiveled down to Balad. He stiffened, hurriedly bowing again and locking his eyes on the floor. She stepped forward and scrutinized him closely, holding her thumb to her chin. Did she recognize him? How much did she remember of the past month, anyway? With the benefit of long experience, Felix instantly knew that he wasn’t about to find out. Byleth never put any of her cards in play.

“Straighten up.”

Balad straightened, keeping his eyes fixed to the floor.

“Chin up too. Widen your stance a little.” Byleth unabashedly nudged him a little, and he awkwardly widened his stance. Balad looked ready to faint from fear, but Byleth either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She just hummed, looking him up and down closely. After a few heart-pounding seconds, she finally straightened and said, “There’s potential. Tomorrow morning, 0500 hours. Training hall. Don’t be late.”

“Oh, Goddess,” Annette said, “this poor kid.”

“That’s some reward for the boy’s help this month,” Mercedes said reproachfully.

“Do you remember him?” Sylvain asked urgently. “Your Grace, I asked this boy to keep an eye on you for the past month. Did you -”

“I remember enough,” Byleth said mysteriously. Great. That could mean anything. “0500 hours. Don’t be late.”

Balad hurriedly bowed again, face flaming red. “Yes, Your Grace!”

Felix crossed his arms. “Do you have time for another victim, Lady Byleth?”

But Byleth just looked at him, eyes glinting. “I don’t know, Felix,” Byleth said, “do I have time to be a cat for a month?”

Felix stared at her, unrepentant. Byleth stared at him, a focused assault.

Finally, Byleth said, “Join me in Annette’s office, Felix.”

Everybody paled, even Balad. Felix narrowed his eyes. 

Dimitri, relentlessly hovering around Byleth’s elbow, was almost wringing his hands. “Your Grace, let’s discuss this before you make any decisions.”

“His Majesty already said that he doesn’t intend to punish House Fraldarius,” Mercedes piped up, a little anxiously. “Are you mad at them, Your Grace?”

Annette’s face fell tragically. “Lady Byleth, I really am sorry…it was just an accident.”

“Felix knows what he did,” Byleth said mysteriously. She pointed inside the room. “Office. Now.”

Felix shrugged and entered the office as the women were shepherded fully outside. Annette looked strongly as if she wanted to speak with Felix and/or plan an escape route, but Felix just waved her off. 

Byleth closed the door resolutely behind her, letting it latch with a final click. Felix stood in the center of the room at loose attention, eyeing Byleth carefully. Byleth stood in front of him, arms folded and eyes sharp. 

They stared each other down for several long seconds - not so much a battle of wills as a mutual challenge. Byleth silently inquired if Felix wanted to defend himself first. Felix knew better than to self-incriminate.

Finally, Byleth said, “You wrote me a thesis on animal transfiguration in school.”

“That I did.”

“It was good.”

“Thank you.”

“Very good.”

“I know,” Felix said. “It was how I knew ordinary humans can’t turn into cats.” 

“I’m out of the ordinary,” the vessel of the Goddess said, straight faced. 

“Hence turning into a cat.”

“Your thesis included a proof on unwinding animal transfigurations.” Byleth’s piercing stare could have put a hole in Felix’s head. “Annette hit me with a modified Reason spell. You could have undid the transformation at any time.” 

“Please,” Felix said, “don’t flatter me. It would have taken a week.”

Slowly and carefully, Byleth said, “Felix. Did you let me stay a cat for a month?”

Completely unrepentantly, Felix said, “Yup.”

“Why.”

“You needed the break.”

Byleth stared blankly at Felix. 

Felix just shrugged. “What? You were having fun, and it’s impossible to make you relax. Figured I’d take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Why didn’t you volunteer to undo the spell at all?” Byleth asked. “You could have artificially extended the time needed to cure me.”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get Sylvain and his wife and kid in the same room?”

Byleth pinched the bridge of her nose. Felix felt no shame. 

Finally, she announced, “You were my most troublesome student.”

“And now I’m your most troublesome subject,” Felix said serenely. “Isn’t it funny how life works out?”

“I should tell His Majesty.”

“You won’t snitch.”

Too high a likelihood that Dimitri would actually grow angry. And, obviously, Byleth wasn’t actually mad at all. Byleth had a fantastic time being a cat. It had been the time of her fucking life. 

She wouldn’t admit it. Felix knew. Byleth knew that Felix knew. They would take this mutual secret to their graves. She was undoubtedly already wishing she could return to chasing mice. Felix had her number. 

Byleth sighed, nodding at the door. “You’re dismissed. I’m assigning you an unpleasant task later.”

Straight faced, Felix said, “But Your Grace. I already co-chair committees with Sylvain.” 

Byleth pointedly walked over and opened the door for him. Dimitri was hovering right outside the door, apart from the other Blue Lions relentlessly gossiping. Everybody’s eyes snapped to Felix and Byleth instantly, assessing the situation. 

Everybody noticed in unison that Felix was looking rather smug. Annette breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Byleth announced, guaranteeing that everybody would worry about it. “Dimitri. Would you like to debrief?”

Somewhat maniacally, Dimitri said, “Byleth, please consider that I have not seen my wife in almost a month.” 

Byleth paused, thinking hard. “Hm. Correct.” After a second’s thought, an answer came to her. “Oh!”

“You understand.” Dimitri grabbed her hand, already pulling her along. “Now, if you’re amenable -”

“Certainly.”

“Excellent. Everybody in this castle is forbidden from bothering us until we return.”

Byleth hurriedly pointed at Balad. “Make that 0800 hours.” 

“Ah - yes, my lady!”

Dimitri and Byleth exited stage left. Very hurriedly. 

Ingrid sighed, folding her arms. “I miss Ashe.” 

“Ah,” Dedue said, “young love.”

Mercedes arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you the expert, Dedue?”

“In those two? Yes.” 

Meanwhile, Annette pushed her way through the crowd and grabbed Felix by the sleeve. She unceremoniously tugged him out of earshot of everybody else, pulling down on his sleeve and making him bend down so she could whisper directly into his ear. 

“What the hell did you do?” Annette hissed. “Why is Byleth mad at you?”

“Can’t say,” Felix said solemnly. “We swore each other to secrecy.”

“You damned good-for-nothing husband, I swear if you went and made things worse -”

“Hark! What is that I see in yonder distance? A young woman in a glass home? What is she holding? That couldn’t possibly be a stone -”

“I have been stressing the past month, and if you had any information that might have reduced that stress -”

“But you got an extension on all of your deadlines!” Felix added cheerfully. Please. Stress. She had been waiting for Mercedes to come and fix it. She had been busy the past month catching up on all of her work, not just the Cat Byleth situation. “Now all of your papers are written, your work’s completed, your best friend’s here, and the Queen of  Faerghus isn’t a cat anymore. Round win in my book.”

“That’s not - did you have something to do with this?”

“I had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.” That was extremely true. A little too true, but definitely true. In a technicality. 

Annette’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds like a technicality.”

And, bizarrely - beautifully - Felix could only lean in and kiss his wife. She immediately kissed him back - it had been a while for them too - and they joined together for a long handful of valuable seconds before they finally separated.

Felix kept her in his arms, relaxing into the feeling of her warm weight. Hopefully the others were too busy bickering amongst themselves. They were way too old for ridiculous PDA like this. He kept his voice low, secluding words away just for the two of them. “Maybe you should take a break too. Let’s take a week off. Just don’t do shit, you and me.”

“Felix!” Annette lightly batted him on the shoulder, but she didn’t pull away. “I’m behind enough as it is already!” 

“You’re always behind! I’m always behind, we’re always busy - so what?” Somehow, for some weird reason Felix couldn’t quite explain, at that moment saying these words to Annette felt like the most important thing in the world. “We were too busy during the war and we were too busy before it. Who cares? I just want time with you.”

“You’ll get time when I retire from my royal magician position in five years,” Annette scolded. “We’ll both move back to your home and settle down then, remember? It’s in the timetable?”

So it was. As Felipe had been in the timetable, and never in Sylvain’s life. As taking care of Dimitri was worked into every day, and they had glossed over actually trusting him. Ashe had been in Brigid for months, and Ingrid hadn’t so much as opened her mouth to complain - accustomed to it as a wartime necessity, with no time to stop and remember that the war was over. Only a summons from the king brought Mercedes across the country to even see her husband again. Even Dedue, returning just to reunite and reconnect, had to remind the nearest Duscuran child that he was never allowed to relax, to lose composure and dignity - the same composure and dignity that Dedue maintained at every moment, without fault or slip. The only break any of them had taken in the past month was completely involuntary, and it had involved turning into a cat. Yes, Felix was completely unrepentant. 

“Annie,” Felix said, and for a moment he let her see the exhaustion in himself too, “are we going to live the rest of our lives like this?”

Were the Blue Lions going to end as they began - pushed to the brink by fear and desperation, and only pushed further as danger encroached around every corner? Would they live now as they had always lived - leaders and combatants in a war for their lives, no expenses spared just to live? Struggling to take care of Dimitri as Dimitri struggled to take care of them, looking to their old teacher for guidance and floundering when left without her? 

Annette was quiet for a long minute. She wasn’t used to seeing that look in his face. Felix didn’t show his heart very frequently, even to her. Maybe that was the weight he still carried.

Finally, she said, “Maybe a quick break.” 

Felix’s smile resurfaced on his face, and he knew it was a lot looser. “A week?”

“A whole week? What would we even do?”

“Whatever we want, maybe.” Felix paused a beat. “His and Her Majesties have the right idea.” 

Annette giggled, resting her forehead on the chest. “Wanna invite -”

“Ah, I hear new parents have no time for that sort of thing.”

“Maybe they can take a break too.” 

“Maybe we’ll all take a break,” Annette said, rolling her eyes. “We’ll let the continent of Fodlan grind to a halt because a group of friends are exhausted and horny. That’s the work of responsible nobility.” 

Felix wanted to be the best parent in the world. He wanted to be the best father who ever lived. He wanted to be a father who made Annette cry in relief, because she would never worry if he would abandon her and his children. She wouldn’t even think of it. Blue Lions or not, important titles and distinguished peerage or not - Felix would make her worries disappear. Even their ghosts wouldn’t exist in her life, or the lives of their children. 

It had to start now. He still had to whip everybody else into shape too. 

“It’s always been us versus the world.” For better or for worse - but that described a great deal. “Let’s let the world take care of itself for a little while.”

If Annette had any arguments, she chose to kiss him instead of making them. Which was about as good as no arguments at all. 

#my writing #fe3h #fire emblem three houses

[bl4nk-pag3]

— Stairway to Heaven.

synopsis: You never thought the elevator being broken would be the last straw for your little crush to develop to something more.

pairing: gyuvin × gn!reader

warnings: gyuvin falls really hard, and I mean literally, he falls and sprain his ankle.

word count: 2.4k

a/u: this idea just came to me, I was reading a really good fanfic on AO3 (if you have it, look up for "a piece of mosaic", it's a masterpiece, but it's a gyuwook fanfic so, be aware!) And I know my gyuvin is nothing like the incredible work they did in their work, but this really made me inspired so I would like to thank the autor anyways. If you like the song recommendation, the song of the fic is Fade (English version) by Jeff Satur!

You couldn't say at what moment that whole routine had started. If from the moment you moved into those old apartments in a part so far from the center he was already present in your daily life, or if at some point he had simply showing up in your life as if he was a person who belonged there. Anyway, it was almost natural for you to expect to see the figure in the same place as always, almost as if he was waiting for you.

It might sound strange to say it that way, but seeing a boy your age every day in an environment where you could look everywhere and just see old ladies drinking coffee or watering their plants really was something new, and one you didn't mind at all staring a little bit every day.

It was a simple schedule: You would leave the apartment right after breakfast with your parents and make your way to the elevators which took too long to work given all the wiring in the building looked to be at least fifty years old and had never been changed since its installation. In the process, you might even find some old sir to talk to, but when the doors finally opened, you could count the seconds (three, to be exact) until your eyes met the glittering ones of the tall boy who was always in the elevator before you, without any mistake and without missing a day since the first time you had seen him.

To say he was handsome was almost an understatement as the looks he shone in everyone's faces so early in the morning.

The boy was tall, in an almost exaggerated way actually. His hair was a light brown that, to your basic knowledge, couldn't be natural at all, but for some reason it seemed to complement his face, which naturally wasn't so pale, but had a healthy tan that showed on his cheeks, who always looked flushed. His size was also enviable, with his broad shoulders and always wearing a jacket that you had thought was from some basketball team, but with little knowledge, you couldn't tell for sure if it was the school team or if it was some team that he cheered, because you had never been able to see the name on his back either, always seeing him from the front in the elevator, leaning against the matte aluminum that also didn't give you any chance of seeing at least his last name.

It was almost frustrating to know all those details about your neighbor but not have any names to give him.

— You know you can just, talk to him, right? - Your friend who was sitting on the living room floor all this time didn't seem to have even a bit of empathy in her being to understand your side as she calmly filed your nail as a mere hobby until it was time for her to leave since her parents had already said that she had better go before it became dark.

If it was such an easy task to talk to him, you obviously would have done it on day one, maybe had a casual conversation just to get the basic information on your little crush. But it turns out that at the very moment you opened your lips to say something, the brown and expectant eyes of the boy from the sixth floor (as you had affectionately nicknamed him, even without knowing exactly where he lived) made you go back, feeling your throat suddenly dry without being able to say anything. And then you're back to square one where you're mentally beating yourself up and he's back to the blank stare as he waits to get downstairs.

— The thing is: I can't, i freaking can't! I thought we had already established that. — Your only instinct amid all the frustration was to pull the pillow that was next to you up to your face, burying in there all the frustration while having your friend next to you complaining that you had taken your hand away from her when she was already finishing.

— So you're going to wait for the only boy your age in these apartments to lose interest in you because you keep running away from confrontation? Very mature of you, Y/n — It was obvious that your friend was right, but when wasn't she? The point was, you knew about each of these things and you were grieving for each of them.

Maybe it was better that way. Maybe it would be better if the boy from the sixth floor just forgot what a pathetic person you were, screaming into the pillow about a person who didn't even know your name and was only minimally nice to smile at you when you met.

Lifting your gaze from the pillow to the friend fiddling with her cell phone, she was ready to talk about leaving when your eyes met, and when she saw your eyes of a puppy that had been kicked out of the moving truck, all she could do was to do was roll her eyes and raise her arms in surrender.

— I can't do anything else, I won't flirt with a guy for you. Sorry, Y/n - She was being clear in making that statement, and you sincerely understood the reason for the drastic decision, after all it wasn't the first time that you, in the midst of your far-fetched ideas, put her in the middle of the crossfire between your feelings and the people you like, but it was a little cruel to see her getting up and grabbing her bag that was already packed to leave.

— I wasn't going to ask you that... Not literally...

You got up right away, deciding to at least accompany your friend to the ground floor where she could go out on her own. The truth was, you still held out hope as you walked out the door with keys in hand that she was going to end up feeling sorry for your dog face, but obviously knowing the girl for what she was, that was basically impossible.

The best part of the arrangement of the buildings was that, due to the old architecture, the corridors were completely open for the apartments to breathe in general, and so you could see the effects of autumn slowly lingering, with colorful leaves falling everywhere and making all the gray buildings somehow seem to have more life. So even though the walk to the elevators seemed delayed by your constant complaining about your unhelpful friend, and with her counter-arguing everything you said, it was still a pretty image to distract yourself with.

— Why is everything in your life about 'timing'? - Distracted by the leaves flying and falling inside the corridors, you hadn't noticed that your friend had already stopped and was now facing the elevator that had a small sheet printed with the printer of dubious quality written in the standard font, but with bold letters.

" ELEVATOR UNDER MAINTENANCE

GIVE PREFERENCE TO THE STAIRS. "

Which wasn't a problem for you, it was only ten flights of stairs that you could casually take if you were reasonably fit, but you really cared about the older neighbors you had.

— I hope they don't take too long to fix it.

Your friend gave you a complicated look that you didn't understand, and honestly? Sometimes she was complex to understand anyway, wanting to give her opinion but thinking she had already interfered too much with your whole life, wanting to see how you could exercise your independence now that you had it. Soon the path to the last step was smooth, you said goodbye and it didn't take more than fifteen minutes for you to be on your floor again.

But this time you stopped for a few seconds, suddenly feeling a little melancholy thinking that even they fixed it, it would be difficult for you to see that boy. And even if in a way you believed it to be a positive change, it was strange to think of a routine without him now that you had him as such a present person.

- . 🍂 ˖ ˚ -

Luckily the busy week didn't let you focus too much on that anyway. Not knowing exactly how much extra time you should take out of your day to go down the stairs, it took a few days to actually find a time that perfectly coincided with what you used to take the elevator for, and even then it was rare that you had time to not even breathing as you raced down the stairs only to be too early once again.

It was a bit frustrating, so this time you had decided that you weren't going to go through with it at all.

Leaving the front door a little earlier than usual, but not enough to stress the sleepless migraine, you locked the door and followed the halls to the stairs directly, already used to the idea to even go to the elevator to check if it had miraculously started working again.

Cutting your way past it, it was even quicker to reach the stairs. And when you finally laid eyes on the big number 5 that indicated your floor, you sighed casually, lifting your face toward the next flight of stairs, like if you still had the hope that magically the boy with brown hair would appear in your vision, and even if it seemed strange you standing there in the middle of the stairs facing the space between one floor and another, it was stranger when you noticed that he really was there, and it wasn't a hallucination.

Suddenly feeling your neck start to get hot with embarrassment, you even tried to look away from the tall boy who was wearing the same red basketball jacket you saw every day, but just by looking at his face and there it was, opening that blinding smile that only he had, and this time there was no doubt that it was just for you, and not a simple matter of politeness.

You felt bewildered, with your eyes glazed only on him and not caring at all about the fact that the minutes were passing by, since you had already woken up early anyway, distracting yourself only with his presence for as long as necessary to end the longing that was growing inside your chest, even if you still didn't feel comfortable to directly name that feeling.

But apparently you weren't the only one completely out of sorts on that very peculiar encounter. It was obvious that you already expected to meet him at some point outside the elevator, by God, you lived in the same building, it was impossible for you to have such different routines to the point of not even casually bumping into each other. The biggest shock for you actually was that he seemed to have been looking forward to it just as much.

Watching him take a step forward towards you, you moved only to face him, feeling the breath hitch in your throat and everything slowly going silent, only drowned out by your heart pounding against your ears. With the autumn leaves falling all around making it more and more difficult to clean the corridors, that scene was even more beautiful in your eyes. And when you released the air that was trapped in your chest, it was as if the next scene rushed to make up for the time that the two of you had to feel all that vibration.

Stopping to remember, you would certainly understand that it had been sheer stupidity not to look down when the stairs became so dangerous full of dry leaves and the light drizzle that sometimes fell there before cleaning, but at that moment, neither you nor the boy seemed to get it as he stepped on the first step of the stairs and tumbled comically down the next thirteen.

It was an ugly fall, the kind you wouldn't want to remember later. And even though your only reaction would have been to bring both hands to your mouth in full panic, as soon as the tall boy landed on the flat floor holding his ankle and awkwardly laying with a grin on his face, you ran to him, throwing back all the shyness you had built around the relationship between the two of you to be able to come to his aid, holding his shoulder and trying to see where he had been hurt.

— Wah, I must have died... – It was the first time you'd heard the boy's voice in all those weeks of intense pining, it was thick, unmistakably beautiful too, the kind you could easily have running on a podcast for comfort. Blinking confusedly at him, you looked into his eyes for a moment, only to see the tops of his cheeks flush for a moment before he hid his face in his large hand to deflect his smile. — For an angel to be taking care of me like this.

You didn't want to, he was clearly hurt there, he had literally rolled over to you and now he could barely get up... But that idiotic attempt at flirting was enough to make you laugh until you threw your head back, not being able to understand why he was so funny, however it seemed to be enough to make him relax his shoulders and complain of pain, laughing right away at how really you two were in such a delicate situation after all that time living only for appearances.

— And the angel has a beautiful laugh. I'm Gyuvin, Kim Gyuvin, and I would ask you out, but I don't even know if I can get up right now. — From the way he tried to get up to stretch out his hand, it was very likely that he had hit a lot more than his ankle and his ass, so all you could do was shake your head with that smile still on your lips, getting up first and holding onto his hand, using all the strength you had, being to help Gyuvin to his feet, even though he still seemed to sway to the side.

— So can I take you home? I already missed my schedule anyway... Y/N, it's a pleasure, Gyuvin.

#zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone #gyuvin imagines #gyuvin fluff #kim gyuvin

[vintagegeekculture]

Happy Birthday to Angela Mao!

Of all the people who ever called themselves “the female Bruce Lee,” Angela Mao was the only one who ever seemed worthy of that stupendously grandiose title. After all, even though she played Bruce Lee’s sister in Enter the Dragon, people forget, she was a leading lady in martial arts films before and after that role; that role didn’t make her, it was just a coronation. In fact, her stardom predates Bruce Lee’s. In fact, calling her the female Bruce Lee might be underselling her, as her films actually outperformed Bruce Lee’s in 1972 and 1973.

Even though it was the studio that would later discover Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee (as well as the place where Sammo Hung first directed and produced a film), Golden Harvest’s first movie (made with money laundered from the Chinese Mafia by noted gangster associate Raymond Chow) was The Angry River in 1970 a full two years before Bruce. It was built as a star vehicle around Angela Mao, who they correctly figured would be the next Cheng Pei Pei. In fact, Angry River seems to be the odd movie out in Angela Mao’s filmography, in that she gets a love story, is asked to cry on camera (Angela Mao is notoriously made of stone). It’s seldom seen today, maybe because it’s a Cheng Pei Pei movie that just happens to star Angela Mao. It took her next two films to discover her real identity and screen persona. 

Her two biggest movies were two similar ones released and made closely together in time, a one-two punch: Hapkido, and When Taekwondo Strikes, both 1930s period pieces set in Occupied Korea, Hong Kong/South Korea co-productions (back when very little entertainment was made in South Korea), both of which essentially have the exact same plot: the main character who is a Chinese girl and martial artist caught up in the resistance to the hated Japanese occupiers of Korea, and their gi-wearing karate school enforcers, who are actually spies running operations for the occupation. 

These movies set the basic formula for Angela’s Mao’s films: she was a lady tiger who was fed up and wasn’t going to take it anymore, an all-Chinese girl who represented the presumed Chinese audience, and who got in exotic and beautiful Asian locations. In The Tournament, Angela Mao went to Thailand to challenge the Thai Kickboxers at their own game (the first Thai Boxing themed movie of course, is Cheng Cheh’s Duel of the Fists, which predates it by mere months). In The Himalayan, she was caught among the intrigues of the Himalayan tribes, which is easily her most beautiful movie with the most stunning locations, actually filmed in Tibet and Nepal. Blood Oath, another from her Golden Period, was essentially a remake of Lady Snowblood, and she kills people with scorpions. Finally, Lady Whirlwind gave her her nickname, much like how Madonna is known as the Material Girl. I can’t recommend that one, as it’s one of a few movies she splits top billing.

Angela Mao was who she was because her friends loved her. Yes, of course, she was good friends with Bruce Lee (stories disagree on how “close” and “friendly” they were, if you get my meaning), but it is just amazing to see, in the backgrounds of her movies, stuntmen turned action movie stars like Sammo Hung, Lam Ching-Ying (Mr. Vampire himself) and yes, even Jackie Chan. Blink and you miss him, arguably the most famous human being in Asia, and there he is, a nobody knockaround stuntman right behind Angela Mao, the star. 

Angela Mao very seldom got a love story or boy-friend in her movies. really. She seemed so ferocious, all glares, that it was like the tiger spirit inside of her scared off any love. Either way, nearly all martial arts actresses can be ranked on a continuum of “vulnerability” to “ferociousness,” with some, like Kara Hui, leaning toward vulnerability, Queen Boxer Judy Lee somewhere in the middle, and Angela Mao at the far, ferocious end.  No surprise, there: Angela Mao had a glare that could stop a charging rhino, one that her children said meant “they were in trouble.”

I’m delighted to say that Angela Mao is alive and well. But that was not clear until very recently. You see, at the height of her fame, Angela Mao vanished mysteriously. No one knows what happened to her...until 2016, when the New York Times, researching the fate of the lost Queen of the Kung Fu Movie, reported she was alive and well and running a Chinese restaurant in Queens, hiding in plain sight. 

#angela mao #70s #kung fu #hong kong

[fieldofdaisiies]

Ithan Holstrom x Reader | A Ticklish Wolf

type: fluff warning(s): a tiny bit angsty? talk about death of a relative word count: 1.4k words request: Hi! I absolutely love everything you write and I saw that you write for Ithan! Could you please write a fic where Ithan and the reader are dating and she finds videos of him from when he played sunball?  She’s teasing him about it and he’s pouting at her, so she’s like “Aww does the wolf pup need belly scratches to make him feel better?” And he’s just laughing and trying to escape because he’s not in wolf form so she’s basically just tickling him. (That last part was definitely influenced by your Cass headcanon 🤣) I know you have so many requests right now though. So if you’d rather not add it to that long list, I totally understand! :) 

- all rights reserved -

“One more!” You grin when you press the button on Ithan’s phone, snatching another selfie of the two of you. Ithan groans behind you, immediately rolling his eyes when the picture is done.

“What? I need to fill your phone with photos of us. Of me.”

“I mean I will never get tired of having seeing you in my camera roll, but don’t you think it is enough now?” Ithan fake whines, trying to reach for his phones but you hold it tightly clasped in his hand, shaking your head. “Never!”

“One more, come on, lean closer.” You think he might ignore your request, but Ithan loves you and obviously loves have tons of photos of you on his phone so he leans closer and kisses your shoulder the exact same moment your press the button and snatch the photo.

Squealing in delight you open his camera roll, Ithan lying back down on the couch. You do too, fitting between his thighs, your head placed on his lower belly. 

“Can I have my phone back now?” Ithan chuckles, his hand moving through your hair, twirling some strands around his fingers, tugging slightly. You wiggle your head.

“No, now I need to sort through them. See which one I like and which ones need to go into the trash.” 

Leaning his head back onto the cushion, Ithan brings on hand up and brushes it down his face, groaning lightly. “I guess my phone is yours then.” “Yeah,” you mumble. “Everything that is yours also belongs to me. I thought you might have gotten used to that by now.” To that Ithan laughs loudly, his body rumbling underneath you. You grin to yourself, thinking about the—

“Like the hoodie you are currently wearing?”

“Exactly, my love.” You love his clothes so much. They are big, they are soft and they smell like him. You revel into the scent of him, the softness of the hoodie your are wearing, snuggling into it and into your boyfriend while flicking through the camera roll – through the selfie folder. 

“I like that one. It is your new background, okay?” “Of course.” Ithan nudges your sides with his foot but then just closes his eyes, relaxing while stroking your scalp. 

You don’t realise you have reached the last photo of the two of you and continue on. The next one is one of Ithan alone, it is a little older, he wears no shirt and you almost drool because gods, is your boyfriend stunning. You continue on until—

“You never told me you played sunball?”

That takes you by surprise, have you been dating for quite some months already, and you only find out about that now. A little part of your heart feels sad at that because why hasn’t he told you.

Ithan’s expression seems to dim, his happiness fading for a moment when he looks at you and reaches for his phone.

“Yeah, I did,” Ithan answers tightly, wanting to grab the phone but you hold it.

“Is that one of your teammates?”

“Y/N, please,” he snaps, anger lacing his tone.

His voice seems sad, and annoyed…with you. You didn’t want to hurt him and you understand that you shouldn’t have interfered his personal space. Shame coats your insides when you sit up between his legs and turn slightly. “I am sorry.”

Ithan lifts his gaze to you when you hand him your phone. “I shouldn’t have—“ “No, I shouldn’t have snapped. I am sorry.” “Don’t apologise.” You lean down to kiss his knee, the tension thick between the two of you. Because now there are secrets, unspoken things, there is something his hasn’t told you about and there are questions you are not sure you can ask. But not having an answer to them feels also strange because why would he have kept this a secret? What is the reason for it? Why can’t you know?

“I played sunball, yes, but I stopped…I stopped after…” Ithan swallows thickly and sits up on the couch, you still between his legs. He places his phone down beside him and brushes on hand through his hair, then he meets your gaze. “I stopped after Connor died.”

Oh gods! Now you feel really bad and very ashamed about questioning him so bluntly. You should not have done that and want to apologise three million times. 

Ithan must have noticed your distress because he brings one hand forward and tips your chin up, thumb brushing your jaw. “I couldn’t really play afterwards, didn’t really want to play anymore and yeah, that is why I didn’t tell you. I just don’t really like talking about it.”

You move your hand over his and bring it up to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “I am so, so sorry, Ithan. I should not have asked so stupidly and first and foremost all, I should not have just looked through your photos.” A small smile blooms on his face and Ithan gives his head a little shake. “You are allowed to look through my photos, I told you that before. And as you said, what is mine is also yours.”

You laugh softly, your gaze warm when it meets his and carrying the promise that he can talk to you if he needs it right now. Ithan understands, obviously he does, it is this silent conversation between the two of you. But he shakes his head again and for a moment his face falls to his phone. He glances back up at you and parts his lips. “It must have been a photo from one of my last games,” he breathes, his eyes clouding with shadows and a sad smile appearing on his lips. 

“I will tell you all about it someday, now it is still not so easy. Please, let’s talk about everything else, but not sunball.” Of course, you think. You would never pressure him to talk about it and have you known you would have never asked him so directly, so bluntly, so emotionless. But it is good that you know the reason for it know, otherwise the uncertainty would have gnawed on you the whole night and also the following days. 

“So distraction?”

Ithan releases a sigh and nods his head. “Distraction sounds good. Please.” “So maybe…” A wicked grin splits your lips, your eyes aglow and Ithan knows he has to expect something mischievous. 

“Does the wolf pup need belly scratches to make him feel better?” With that you lunge yourself at him, fingers poking into his belly. He tries to shift back on the sofa, yelping while laughing uncontrollably. "I did—gods—not mean that," he pants, shaking and bending, trying to curl into a ball while fighting you off. Oh, your boyfriend is so ticklish it is crazy. And you loved it. You have him fully at your mercy — tears from laughter building up in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks when he tries to escape, but you are faster, sitting down on his hips, pinning you underneath him.

“Poor baby, you said you wanted distraction, here it is.” A wicked, cruel laugh erupts from you and you want to continue anew, fingers mercilessly attacking his belly. 

“You said belly scratches, your cruel monster.”

That makes you huff, faking shock and sitting back dramatically while crossing your arms over your chest. “That are belly scratches,” you pout but it doesn’t last long before you have to grin.

“You could have let me shift first.”

“Nah, was funnier this way.” Leaning down, you elicit a soft groan from him before your lips close over his and kiss him shortly — nevertheless it is a kiss full of love, compassion and admiration.

“I love you, Ithan. And I love your honesty, thank you for telling me and opening up. Now belly scratches? Real ones?”

Ithan smiles, warm and soft, leans up and kisses your forehead. “No, let's stay like this, okay? Just want you in my arms.”

You dip your chin, shifting slightly so you can snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Ithan slides his hands underneath your —actually his— hoodie, placing them both at the small of your back, securing you on top of him. You draw in his scent, reveling in it and sighing happily.

"I love you, Y/N. More than everything in this world and I promise to never keep anything from you ever again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @headcanonheadcase @azrielsbabyg @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger 

#ithan holstrom x read #ithan holstrom #crescent city #crescent city x reader

[lady-djarin]

oh captain, my captain

dbf!joel miller x f!reader (pt. i of ?)

warnings: legal age gap (joel is early 40's reader is late 20's-ish), no outbreak - circa early 2000’s, talk of readers fem body, reader wears a bathing suit, tension, kissing, mentions of smut, teasing, hints of exhabitionism, still kinda explicit, E 18+

a/n: i can’t stop having daydreams about dbf!joel, he haunts me. so i wanna make at least another part but idk how many yet, i like where this is going so i’ll keep y’all updated ;) <3

"That's what you want to wear on the boat?" Sarah scanned the very cute but very thin cover up that was barely hiding your black bathing suit underneath. It was one of many options you were debating to sunbathe on the boat.

You turned around and looked in the mirror at yourself. "Yea why? Does it look weird?" Sarah was your best friend partly because she was so honest, she'd never let you go out looking anything less than 'perfect'. Even if you had very different definitions of perfect.

"No, not weird, but our dads are going to be there." She made a disgusted face like she smelled something rotten.

“Oh please it’s not that bad… my ass is completely covered!”

“Girl… your tits!” She pointed an accusing finger at your chest. It was true, they were ‘out’ but they looked good. The bathing suit made sure of that. “You do you, but if your boob flies out in front of both our dads I’ll be the one laughing.”

You giggled as she went back to flipping through a magazine. The two day boat trip was a summer tradition with your dad, Sarah and her dad, Joel. Joel was also your dads best friend. He was younger than your dad but they had a solid relationship after working together for over 15 years. That’s how you gained Sarah as basically a younger sister as well as best friend. It had been just you and your dad for a long time so it was nice having Joel and Sarah around to do ‘family’ things with. The countless family trips, birthdays and holidays meant you grew up around Joel and as you got older your view of him definitely changed.

Since you matured, so had your taste in men. Your first boyfriend in high school was barely even a boy, he was a small minded child with more interest in his baseball ‘career’ than you. He did lots of things that you now realize are the exact opposite of what you want in someone.

You now find yourself chronically single with a few stories to tell along the way. You also hate to admit that over the last couple of those shared holidays and trips that your eyes had started to linger on a particular man.

A man who you definitely should not be looking at that way. Somehow your brain had latched onto the idea that Joel Miller was the perfect man for you. He was caring and sweet and drop dead gorgeous. He was gorgeous in a rugged way, his brown messy waves and deep amber eyes. His cheeks were always covered in stubble. Stubble you wanted to feel between your thighs.

Only problem is, every time you start to think like that, you're reminded that he’s your dads best friend. You hang out with his daughter. It was wrong on so many levels, which only made you fall deeper.

You had caught yourself looking at him more than you care to admit, and him reciprocating just as much. That’s why you wanted to wear the black bathing suit, you knew he’d look.

—————

The morning of the trip was here and you were starting to get nervous. You were going to be trapped on the same small vessel as your biggest crush and your dad. That would throw anyone off.

You finished packing your bag and headed downstairs to find your dad making coffees for you both. As you swing into the kitchen you see another large form, wide shoulders stretching the canvas jacket. Joel turned around with a mug in one hand and rubbed the top of your head with the other. Your heart almost stopped beating for a second as he pulled you into a side hug.

“Hey kiddo,” his voice rumbled through your body at the contact.

He messed up your hair as you pushed away. “Don’t call me that,” you scowled and pushed down your hair. God, you felt like an idiot.

Your dad handed you a travel mug and you made for the bench by the front door to put your boots on. Before you made it, you felt the weight of your backpack being lifted from your shoulder.

“I got it sweetheart, I’m loading up the car.” You almost thought it was your dad at first but you turned to find those amber eyes next to yours. He squeezed past you in the small hallway, his whole body was practically rubbing against yours as he passed. He never called you anything like sweetheart.

He was gone before you could register and left you to put on your shoes.

You made your way to the driveway and Joel held the car door open for you. You settled into the seat behind the driver and he shut the door after you. Also new. The muffled boom of Joel's voice calling for your dad was the only noise until Sarah hopped in next to you. You were starting to dread the next almost 2 hour drive to the lake, having to sit behind Joel and not go crazy as your eyes connected through the rear view mirror.

—————

The boat they rented this year was a little bigger to your surprise. Your dad always made the overnight trip really special; Joel teaching you guys how to fish, making s'mores on the tiny gas stove and stargazing on the water. This year they really went all out, they got a slightly nicer one with a fancy bathroom and everything.

The whole reason you guys started this tradition was because Joel really liked fishing and knew how to drive a boat. He just rented a different one every year. This year it came with cushy seats, full sized beds and a little seating area on the deck. Most of your morning was spent reading on that deck as Joel and your dad set sail. You were thankful your dark sunglasses covered your lingering gaze that slid over Joel's form. Fuck, how could you not? His shirt was soaked with sweat as he worked the boat, muscles straining as he went about his tasks. You had no idea what he was actually doing, so distracted by his movements.

He seemed to be finished as he wiped his hands on a rag and sat himself next to you, slumping down with a sigh.

“Hey, where’s my kid?” He squinted down at your book. Nosey.

“She’s napping. Complained about waking up early.” You yanked your book away with a frown.

“Geez, that girl.” He put his hand on your knee as he stood up. Your skin was instantly on fire. “I’m gonna make some burgers, want one?”

All you could manage was a nod.

—————

The rest of the afternoon was pretty tame. You guys found a spot on the water you liked and the men started fishing and you and Sarah went to your shared room to change. Once you were ready you went to the small kitchen to grab some lemonade… and maybe add some of that vodka your dad brought. While your dad didn't care that you drank, being of legal age and all, he didn't endorse you letting Sarah drink, since she was a few years younger than you. But what he doesn't know won’t hurt him. Plus you poured Sarah half a shot, she'd be fine.

You two sat out there gossiping and reading books and magazines. You did decide to wear the black suit, the one that made your boobs look great. And boy did it pay off.

Since Joel and your dad were sharing the small deck with you guys, you had a perfect view of him. Even better, he had a perfect one of you. You caught him looking at you more often than not. You were actually kind of surprised that your dad didn't notice, or Sarah. But why question a good thing.

After the sun went down everyone changed and you all stargazed on the deck in the warm summer night until finally heading to bed. You and Sarah were sharing a tiny room and an even smaller bed, and while you never minded before, for some reason you couldn’t find a way to get comfortable. You tried your best to fall asleep, hoping the movement of the water would put you out. Once you saw the small clock glowing ‘2:26am’ you decided to go up and get some water, or maybe just stretch your legs.

You made your way up the narrow staircase into the main area where a small couch sat. The small couch that Joel was sitting on.

“Hey, what are you doin’ up?” He looked like he had been awake for a while too. You didn't know he wore glasses. He looked cute.

Fuck.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you rubbed your tired eyes, trying to focus on his face.

“‘M sorry darlin’, need anything?” He stood up from the couch, which was really just a bench with a blanket. He led you into the kitchenette and you waited as he poured you some water.

“Thanks… why are you still awake?” You sipped your water as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“I’m always worried somethin’s gonna happen to the boat if I fall asleep.” He watched as you finished your glass and put it in the sink. “You havin’ fun at least? I know we haven’t done much yet.”

“Ya I’m having a great time! I like doing nothing,” you admitted with a small giggle. “Plus I like watching you guys struggle with the fish.” That made both of you laugh under your breath.

“I like watching you too, sweetheart.”

Wait.

What?

You kind of just stared at him a little wide eyed while your brain processed his words. He had a sweet smile on his face like he didn’t just drop that bomb. He looked back at you and smiled wider when he saw the look on your face, the absolute shock that made your mouth slack open.

You were unsure of what to do at this point, it’s like your dreams were coming true but you had no idea how to handle it. Thank god he handled it himself by brushing his hand over your cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You were pretty sure you malfunctioned because all you could do was stand there, unsure of how to take it.

“You looked so pretty, you always look so pretty.” He was staring at your lips now, clearly past the point of hiding this.

“Joel…” You almost wanted to pull away, this was kind of wrong.

His hand was still cupping your jaw, like he was unwilling to part from touching you. He looked into your eyes as he pulled you closer. Your heart was in your chest, this was wrong, you should pull away but couldn’t bring yourself to care at this point.

Your lips connected and you instantly melted, he was so warm and big, holding you in his strong arms. He held your waist close, pressing you against him.

The kiss was… something else. No one had ever kissed you like that before, maybe that’s the difference between boys and men.

His tongue slid over yours and you were lost, you both were. All semblance of shyness was gone as you devoured each other. His lips were soft as silk and his muscled arms held you close and roamed your curves. Neither of you wanted to part, even for air until you heard a noise coming from below deck. You reluctantly scrambled away from each other, worried your dad or Sarah would be walking up the stairs.

“I– I’m sorry darlin’,” he couldn't bring himself to look at you.

“Joel, I– it’s ok. Don't be sorry.”

There was a charged energy between you, like a spell neither of you wanted to break. He was the one to break first and he squeezed past you without so much as a look your way. You could tell he looked upset, ashamed almost and that hollow pit twisted in your stomach.

————

The rest of the trip went as usual, except for the fact that you and Joel couldn't keep your eyes off each other.

The only good thing was that your dad and Sarah were none the wiser. You weren't sure if Joel regretted the kiss or not, he seemed to have a permanent guilty look in his eyes. The memory of the kiss and the feeling of his lips on yours haunted you, unable to think of almost anything else.

When the boat docked at the end of the second day and as the group was gathering up the belongings to unload into the truck, you found yourself alone below deck with Joel.

Alone.

“Hey kiddo, ready to go home?” It was almost cold the way he regarded you now.

What the hell? What did you do? He can’t act all high and mighty, he kissed you! You only managed a scoff in response. That melted his icy exterior.

“Why ya givin’ me attitude?” His voice was just barely lower than normal volume, his thick brows knitted in the middle.

“Your acting like that was my idea last night.”

The left over desire from the previous night was boiling over into burning rage, but you couldn’t deny you were still soaking between your thighs.

“You kissed me, Joel!”

“Will you quit yellin’!” He backed you up against a section of wall in the small room. His deep rumble of a voice both angered you and turned you on.

“I’m not ye—,” your voice was cut of by his thick fingers covering your lips.

“Shut up. I swear darlin’, you’ve got a fucking mouth on you.” He was practically growling in your ear. You felt kind of filthy like this; pressed between a wall and Joel’s hard body, his hand smothering your sounds.

“You wanna get caught? Hmm?”

Your eyes sparkled back at him, almost begging him to fuck you here and now. Instead of indulging you, he took one last long look at you before turning away without another word.

—————

After he left you speechless below deck, Joel helped you pack the rest of the bags into the car and thus begun the 2 hour drive back. You sat behind Joel again, on purpose this time, knowing you had power over him now.

You spent the whole way home making eye contact with those big brown eyes in front of you. You did your best to convey your wanton need through your gaze, licking your lips and watching his eyes track the movement.

After you all said your final goodbyes, your dad ran inside to go to the bathroom and Sarah was passed out in the backseat, leaving you once again, alone with Joel.

“I had fun Joel, hope we can do it again sometime.” You refrained from hiding any of the sarcasm and giddy in your voice.

“You better watch yourself darlin’.” You could tell he really was worried about getting caught.

This was going to be fun.

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