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#because without it he would be still very much alive and well
moonstruckme · 16 hours
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I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)
Thank you gorgeous, love you <3
cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return. 
And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy. 
Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you. 
“Okay?” Sirius’ breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?” 
You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear. 
“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.” 
You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.
You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass. 
Your breath stills in your lungs. 
You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t. 
“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?” 
You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs, and it won’t let you speak. 
“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?” 
“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight. 
Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”
It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry. 
“Everything alright?” he asks. 
You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance forward the way one might approach a feral kitten. 
“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here. 
“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?” 
To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant, and you try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” 
“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?” 
“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response. 
You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”
“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 
“I’m fine,” you say again. 
“Please, sweetheart. Just try.” 
You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over. 
“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so uncalled for.” 
“It’s not,” James says. “Can I—can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?” 
“Please,” you squeak out. 
He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.
“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.” 
“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness, I never want to scare you like that.” 
You shake your head. “You don’t.” 
A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours. 
“Hug?” you ask Sirius. 
He looks surprised. “Are you sure?” 
You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck. 
Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe. 
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alackofghosts · 2 days
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got tagged by tumblr user @fourteenthz (loved reading about thesa, by the way <3)! thank you very much!
— B A S I C S
name: lil guy i'm very shy, don't worry about it
nicknames: none based on his name, as it's quite short already, but will also respond to a fond and/or slightly exasperated "hero"
age: 33 as of 6.55
nameday: 27th sun of the 4th umbral moon
race: rava viera
gender: cis man
orientation: gay
profession: adventurer
— P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T
hair: black, naturally wavy, very thick and soft
eyes: dark brown
skin: warm brown, freckles easily, especially his face
tattoos: none
scars: burn scar on his left shoulder from his fight with ifrit, another burn on his right thigh from nidhogg. a few other scrapes here and there. notable lack of any significant scarring from shb and beyond, because that's how i see astrologian healing working - he feels particularly strange about not having a scar from his fight with zenos in endwalker
— F A M I L Y
parents: he has not been back to his home village, for obvious reasons, so doesn't know - but assumes - his mother is still alive and well; never met his biological dad. but because he showed signs of. however the viera would call/conceptualise the inner beast, one of the women called in a favour with a wood warder who was also a warrior, to take him under his wing to train. said wood warder, however, was wholly at a loss what to do with a child, having never taken in a ward before and decided to seek out an old friend, who had since left the forest. ...long story short, he ends up being raised by an all-viera dalmascan resistance cell, who end up packing up and leaving with him in tow after almost being rooted out by garlean forces. he views most of them as Parental Figures and loves them dearly, even if some of them have scattered into the winds after he left to become an adventurer
siblings: he isn't aware of any biological siblings, but the village took a very communal approach to raising kids, so at the time he definitely felt like the other kids were his siblings, regardless of any blood relations. one of the men in the resistance cell was a 'mere' 30 or so years older than him, so he also counts more as a sibling than anything else in his eyes
grandparents: he has definitely met his maternal grandmother, but as with his mother, he's not been back home and doesn't know if she is still alive (but in all likelihood: yes)
in laws and other: THE TWINS. putting an exact name to what alisaie and alphinaud mean to him would honestly not be Good or Close Enough, but they are absolutely like family to him and a reason to keep on going. he also has a very sibling-like relationship with lyse, who is always ready and willing to match his energy, tag along for workouts and tease the hell out of him
pets: he befriends an amaro hatchling at the crystarium during shadowbringers and during a later visit, her handler notes that she's been looking glum without him around. he loves animals, but his living situation has been far too chaotic after becoming an adventurer to accommodate an animal (that isn't his chocobo, who, at least, is much easier to house) and hasn't felt particularly inclined to change that. but after endwalker, he finds himself actually wanting to change that and has the time to do it... so, with a little bit of help from feo ul, he has a little amaro friend with him now
— S K I L L S
abilities: war + drk + pld and all that that entails. skilled and formidable fighter, good at navigating/strategising through a fight on the fly, quick study (as far as fighting is concerned, anyway)
hobbies: working out (especially running and swimming), hiking, he's been learning to enjoy fishing after endwalker
— T R A I T S
most positive traits: protective, caring, insatiable lust for life
most negative traits: too willing to let other people do the talking for him, impulsive, stubborn
— L I K E S
colours: warm red, gold, the bright green of sunlight filtering through leaves
smells: fresh earth, cinnamon, a meadow in early summer, the savoury smell of the stew one of his dads used to make
textures: soft grass under bare feet, tree bark, skin on skin, the scratch of ardbert's beard
drinks: water, pineapple juice, lemonade
— O T H E R    D E T A I L S
smokes: no
drinks: only socially, and even then it's fairly rare. he did drink a little more often as a baby adventurer, mostly because he simply had more opportunities to do so: mingling was useful and it wasn't uncommon to have a rowdy bar night to celebrate a job well done. he is a bit of a lightweight and tends to withdraw when tipsy/drunk, so he actually has more fun when sober
drugs: also no (unless we're counting medicine for this. he won't be refusing painkillers if he's in pain etc.)
mount issuance: his beloved chocobo, who he dotes on very much, especially because it was something of a dream to have when he was just a baby adventurer - he could not have afforded to buy or maintain one at the time
been arrested: he's got in trouble for those rowdy bar nights - he's not the type to start a fight, but if someone were to pick a fight with him or his friends, by gods, he will be finishing it. no serious jail time, more like being hauled off with everyone else involved to sober up until morning, though
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tswwwit · 2 years
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And here's Bill vs Bill, aka the Pinnacle of Billmei vs Billge's Faceoff, part three. Not the finale, but that's coming very soon!
I am now going to go lie down and take a nap.
-------------------
“You’re not gonna get what you want,” Bill says.  
“Thanks.” Dipper had guessed that part five minutes ago. He rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Really great to know.”
He stares across the bare dirt in front of him. The sigils are scrawled on with a stick - he didn’t have anything else on hand - and he wasn’t expecting company. 
Company he’s currently trying to ignore. 
“I had to say something! You’re terrible at this.” From the side of the clearing, Bill snorts. “You need all the help you can get.”
Commentary from Bill never fails to be unhelpful. For the first time in a while, Dipper finds himself genuinely, unflirtingly irritated by it. Tension has been building in his shoulders for the last day and a half and they’re starting to ache. 
Bill Cipher lounges on a stump nearby. Seated in a way that couldn’t possibly be comfortable for a normal human, but has the appropriate level of drama for a demon. 
He’s spent most of the last half-hour mocking Dipper’s futile scribblings in the dirt. An unwelcome interloper, in multiple senses.
Ditching this Bill to go experiment in the forest has been a total loss. All Bills are smart, and for all that this one knew so little about their situation - still doesn’t - he’s somehow latched onto being able to locate Dipper, easy as anything.
“Do you mind?” Dipper reels on him.
“Often, as you know!” Bill shrugs that off with a grin. “C’mon, you need me for this!” He adds a slow, unsubtle wink. “Besides, all our other stuff worked out!”
Dipper makes a disgusted sound, and hears Bill start to chuckle.
The one good thing about interacting with demons? Is that Dipper doesn’t have to pretend to be nice.
Even though Bill doesn’t have the entire picture, he’s clever, and he can make inferences. All of Dipper’s reactions have shown him that this human’s not servile. It’s just enough to accept it as par for the course.
He knows that Dipper knows he’s a demon - but not that Dipper knows about demons, and how they do… stuff. As far as this Bill’s aware, the non-flirtatious insults are just how they interact. That Dipper, of course, wouldn’t know that some other ones have… implications.
There’s no reason they would be flirty, anyway. He thinks they’re just - 
Buddies.
God, Dipper hopes his Bill won’t learn about that part. It adds another layer to the joke, and not one that works in Dipper’s favor. 
Dipper breathes in, then out. Trying to relax, though his back and shoulders aren’t cooperating. 
He looks back at the interdimensional asshole and asks. “Why are you here?”
“What, did you think I wouldn’t show up?” Bill rests a hand on his chest, a near-perfect picture of surprised innocence. “Like you’d get rid of me that easy..”
Dipper tries not to grit his teeth. He stomps deliberately on the ground as he turns away.
“C’mon,” Bill’s voice is coy and almost cloyingly sweet, in a way that makes Dipper want to spit. “All this dimensional stuff you’re looking at. All that curiosity,” A tinge of something else enters his tone. There’s a soft pat, probably in his lap. “I got all the knowledge, right here! Why not enjoy it?”
Dipper picks up the stupid stick he was using to draw his stupid improvised signs into the dirt. He scrapes down a few more, simply out of spite.
He looks like a six-year old playing at being a magician, not a real one - but it’s better than letting Bill win.
For the second time ever, Dipper Pines has the dubious honor of being the focus of a Bill Cipher’s intense interest. 
It’s mostly because of his world-conquering plots, of course. Somewhat because Bill’s learned that this dimension comes with… extras, he guesses. Not that he’s getting any use of them. And partly because…
Okay, Dipper’s not sure what the rest is, but Other Bill has a way of leading down tangents that Dipper would, in any other instance, pursue. He’s had to not argue a surprising number of times. 
Dipper won’t let this guy drag him into some coquettish debate over…. leyline geometry, or anything else. Even if it’s tempting. Dipper’s dug in his metaphorical heels, because being led down that road can’t end well.
Maybe Dipper’s home dimension has something in the air, or… ether or whatever. An ephemeral thing that turns a Bill extra weird, because this doesn’t seem like it’s ‘universal’. 
The alternative would be that this is kind of multiversal, and that would mean -
Dipper grimaces.
Demons are dangerous. Bill’s the worst of them. 
Luck…. wouldn’t always run in Dipper’s favor, he thinks.
For the sake of his remaining sanity, he’s decided not to think too hard about it. 
“If you want results, you should be working with my information, not whatever crapshoot you have going on in your noggin.” Bill adds, rather pointedly pointing to the papers he tossed on the ground. They’re spread out in a loose pile, even when he could have neatly stacked them. “Take my word for it!”
Dipper doesn’t have a good response. He shrugs instead. 
The wind blows gently through the clearing, and Bill makes a face as some of the pages get caught. He raises an eyebrow. Jerks his head towards them, with a smirk.
And fuck that. 
There’s no way Dipper’s going to rifle through that mess, much less chase after it. He has some dignity, and this Bill would just love watching him scrabble through the dirt for scraps of information. Dipper refuses to entertain him. Hell, he wouldn’t do that even for his own Bill. 
And second - 
That information is absolutely, 100%, a poison pill. A trick. 
A little over thirty years ago, Bill Cipher - a Bill Cipher - nearly led Stanford Pines into ruining an entire dimension. The only reason he got caught was because Ford, in pure academic diligence - noticed something very, very subtly out of place.
Ford might be oblivious to personal interactions - but he’s downright incredible when it comes to scholarship. Even then Bill nearly tricked him into a cascade failure of literally disastrous proportions.
So yeah, Dipper’s smart. And maybe he is getting pretty okay at the dimensional stuff. But he’s barely getting into this field.
He knows way better than to think any Pines is going to get that lucky, twice. 
It’s pretty clear he’s already used up his own. 
Behind him, Dipper hears Bill starting to ramble on about something. This time with a tinge of annoyance in his tone. 
Out of the corner of his eye Dipper can see the pages caught on some bushes. Wherever the rest are, he doesn’t care anymore.
And in front of him, Dipper sees his own futile scribblings leading… precisely nowhere. 
No matter how perfectly the circle is drawn, or how his sigil handwriting is second to nobody’s, it’s basically as good as Ford’s -
He just… 
Doesn’t know what he’s doing. 
The only person who really, truly knows exactly what to do is out of reach.
There’s a copy around, sure. Right down to the intelligence, personality, and name. Even the face is downright familiar, though the expressions it wears are strange.
Dipper swallows. His mouth feels dry. 
There’s so much information to learn, infinite piles of it, offered up on a silver platter.
And none that he can trust. 
“What’s with the face?” Bill sounds cheerful, though Dipper can hear the tension behind it. Other Bill isn’t getting his way, and it’s annoying him. “Frustrated? Struggling?” He claps a hand on Dipper’s shoulder, and his voice turns that syrup-smooth tone that Dipper hates - “Between you and me, we could-”
“No world-conquering.” Dipper shrugs away from the touch on his shoulder. That’s it. He’s done. “Ever.”
“Whoa, whoa, who said anything about that? I-”
“Save it for the suckers, Bill.” Dipper turns on him, backing up a step - but not far. “I never bought it in the first place.”
Other Bill looks at him with… mild confusion. But that’s only what shows on his face. By the way his head tilts, and his shoulders set - Dipper can tell he’s thinking, fast. 
This Bill knows he’s been caught at something - and he’s equally sure he can talk his way out of it.
Dipper can’t work his way around Bill’s magical trickery. Even if he could, that’d take years, maybe decades of study. And all the while, he’d have to be lucky enough to avoid the many, many landmines that Other Bill would place in his way.
That’s not going to happen. Probability isn’t on Dipper’s side, he’s never going to learn enough to stop whatever this demon is planning. 
But he does know Bill.
His thoughts. His motives. His emotions, too. Even when he tries to hide them, Dipper can almost always find out what he’s really feeling. This might be a different version, but Dipper still understands this creature right down to - 
Well, not his bones - the few Bill has are at best non-euclidean - but Dipper gets the majority of what’s underneath his exoskeleton.
So, fuck it. Last resort.
Dipper just… asks.
“Where is he?”
“Where’s who?” Other Bill cocks his head to one side. His face flickers into an expression of not-quite concern. “You’re-”
“No.” Dipper cuts through the air with his arm. Frustration is tight in his chest. “I said I’m done playing.”
“Yeesh, you’re testy today.” Other Bill taps his foot on the ground, shaking his head. “Figures, what with all the sleep you’re not having.”
And god, comments on that have always been annoying, even from Real Bill. 
“Nice try. Sure, you’re a Bill,” Dipper stomps forward. Jabbing a finger into Other Bill’s chest, and giving him his second-worst glare. “But you’re not my Bill. And I’m tired of pretending that you’ve,” He makes finger quotes. “‘Fooled’ me.”
Bill blinks at that, for a full two seconds. ”Who says I’m-”
“That won’t get either of us anywhere.” Dipper interrupts. He runs a hand through his hair. Being angry isn’t going to work, so he tamps it down. He has to make this convincing. “We should… get you back to your place.”
Other Bill watches Dipper for a long, lingering moment.Then he lets out a long, low whistle. Shaking his head again, he takes Dipper by the shoulders. “Aaand it’s naptime for Pine Tree!” Bill strides forward, pushing Dipper along. “Boy, have you been working too hard! All this dimension stuff has really gone to your head if you’re coming up with something that crazy.”
Now Dipper digs his literal heels into the ground - something Other Bill wasn’t expecting, apparently - and manages to tear himself out of Bill’s grip. He folds his arms over himself, backing up a few steps.
Bill huffs out a sigh. “Seriously?” 
“Yeah.” Dipper folds his arms over his chest. “Seriously.”
“C’mon, we’ve known each other for years!” Other Bill spreads his arms wide. Deep concern furrows his brow, his voice softens. “You’re overthinking, kid. Maybe all this study isn’t good for you.” He beckons towards himself. “Let’s just get you-”
Dipper scoffs. It comes out almost like a laugh. Other Bill straightens up, a brief flicker of annoyance on his face. 
Bill’s bullshit isn’t going to work. Not this time. Not on Dipper. 
“If you were my Bill, you would know better.” Dipper lifts his chin. “If you were my Bill, you wouldn’t suggest that, or act like that, or…” He shakes his head. Other Bill barely did any research, and now he’s surprised he’s fucking up? “You’re really bad at this.”
A muscle in Other Bill’s jaw twitches. The rest of his face maintains the same, gentle concern. “You’re making a mistake, kid.” He sounds too calm - “If you were sane, you’d-”
“Oh, I’m not.” Dipper jabs a thumb into his chest. Almost proudly. “That’s how I know.”
Hell, Dipper gave up total sanity a long time ago. Once he realized what he’d gotten into. Once he realized he liked it. 
 “Huh.” Curiosity, apparently, overrides a Bill’s need to keep up a ruse, because he’s starting to smirk. “Never let it be said I don’t like insanity!” He tilts his head. “Enlighten me!”
Welp. He asked for it.
The smart thing to do would be to play nice. To work with this Bill, as much as is possible - to be flattering, and convincing, and massage that ego until he did want to cooperate, instead of obfuscate. It could even be easy. 
But fuck this guy. 
“Okay, so we’ll forget how you’re fucking up basic rules of this dimension, your obvious lack of knowledge,” Dipper starts. He rolls a hand in the air, in the way Bill does when he’s lecturing, and watches Other Bill’s eye twitch. “And how your acting sucks-”
Other Bill folds his arms over his chest. He starts tapping his fingers, in a slow, rhythmic beat. “More proof that you’re delusional, but sure!” He shrugs. “Why not!”
“You might have pulled it off in another world, but there’s too many details in this one.” Dipper admits. This dimension is pretty weird, if you think about it.  He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. “We’re, uh…. Kinda out there.”
“A lotta suppostions, and zero facts.” Other Bill waves them away casually. “That’s hardly evidence.”
Dipper shrugs, almost casually.  “No,” He says, very slowly. “I guess it isn’t.” 
Other Bill starts to grin. 
And Dipper shoves his left hand right in front of this smug asshole’s face. His palm - and its mark - on full display.  “But this is.”
Other Bill violently recoils, letting out a sharp, startled swear in that strange language  -
Then instantly realizes he’s blown his cover. He grimaces, hissing something else vulgar. Other Bill rubs at his eye, ducking his head.
Holy symbols don’t affect Bill, but that threw him right the hell off. A minor victory at best - yet oh, is it sweet.
Dipper waggles his hand in Other Bill’s view, and watches him turn away in disgust. “Well?” 
Other Bill clapped a hand over his eye; now he draws it slowly down his face. “What. The hell. Is wrong with that guy? I thought the body was bad, but nah, that was just the beginning!” He shudders, shoulders rising. “There’s an entire conspiracy of awful.”
“Answer the question.” Dipper insists. The jig is up, the ruse is gone. Other Bill can’t lie his way out of this now.  “Where is he?”
“Eesh, put it away already.” Other BIll flaps a hand at him. After a moment, Dipper reluctantly lowers his arm, while Other Bill sticks out his tongue. “Trust me - if you knew what that mark really meant, you wouldn’t be champing at the bit trying to find the other guy.” This… asshole.
He thinks Bill never told Dipper - 
And okay, he didn’t, Stan had to point it out first - 
But it’s like he thinks Dipper’s an idiot. That he doesn’t know exactly what he signed up for. That nobody would ever want to be - 
Dipper takes a step forward, fists clenched tight by his sides. “Where’s my husband?”
Other Bill just. Looks at him. For a long moment, face blank and staring. 
After a while, he slowly shakes his head. “I dunno what kinda demiurge got their tendrils into this particular space-time weave,“ Other Bill says carefully. Almost consideringly. “But boy, do they have a sick sense of humor. It’s almost impressive!”
“Oh, I get it.” Dipper ignores the distraction and folds his arms. This will get to him. “You don’t actually know. Do you?”
“Ha ha, very funny. Of course I know! We’ve been talking theory for days and you still haven’t guessed?” Other Bill waves his arm over the forest, vaguely skyward. “You see any big magical storms going on? Or any nice convenient rifts? No! Not even one! Things are still,” He curls up his lip as he makes finger quotes. “‘In balance.’”
And that kinda tracks. With what Dipper knows. 
Passing into another dimension is difficult for a long, long list of reasons. At the core, it’s because they’re… mostly incompatible with each other. 
The very fabric of reality keeps the planes apart, and healthy. Literally a skin between realms, since having different rules in place is like having a separate immune system. They can’t mix unless something is already compatible - or unless something’s gone terribly wrong.
But. Theoretically. 
If you knew how. And if had the magical capital to pay the tolls - You could trade out an equal measure of mass, or magic. As long as it was similar enough, it might get overlooked.
And Bill Cipher’s a huge weight in the fabric of existence, simply out of sheer magical heft. Even if his realm is the Mindscape, he’s still linked to this dimension. If a nearby place suddenly had two Bills - or no Bills - there would be some major ripples in the fabric. Causing strange phenomena. Further anomalies.
But that didn’t happen. There was only one big surge, until everything sort of…. 
Evened out.
“So.” Dipper shuts his eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. “He’s at your place.”
His Bill wasn’t randomly transported into the beyond. He hasn’t even gone all that far.
Somewhere out in the infinite multiverse - There was a triangular gap that he could slot right into. 
“I guess you’re not totally slow.” Other Bill grins. Weirdly, he sounds pleased. “Yeah, it’s the ol’ switcheroo. Usually a decent time!” He heaves a heavy, dramatic sigh. “But I guarantee that guy’s having a way better day than I am.”
One mystery solved. Bill’s location. Relatively nearby, as these things go - 
Dipper looks up, suddenly intent. “Bring him back.” 
Other Bill raises an eyebrow. 
“Just…” Dipper fumbles, he tries to wave vaguely in a dimension-adjacent direction, which ends up being everywhere. “I mean, we’ll reverse it, right? It-”
“Oh yeah? With what?” Other Bill snorts, and sets his hands on his hips. “I’m not sitting on infinite power and influence right now, kid.” He shrugs. “Even with that it takes a lot of finagling. No dice.”
Dipper leanis his head back. 
Shit.
“But there’s good news!” Bill sounds surprisingly cheerful, and Dipper glances over - “Ripping a hole between realms is a hell of a lot easier with a native. And I don’t qualify, on several counts.” He tilts his head thoughtfully, starting to smirk. “You could really come in handy.”
Dipper simply stares.
Double shit.
“Hey, you’ve already worked with a Bill. A real messed up one.” Other Bill makes a face, glancing at Dipper’s left hand. “You wanna dick with dimensions, then you got a way better opportunity, right here.”
Dipper breathes in, then out. Right.
He… kind of figured it would come to this.
“Go fuck yourself.” 
Other Bill gives him a surprised look. Dipper flips him off. 
He’s had a lot of bad ideas in his life, but this is clearly the worst deal he’s ever been offered.
“What?” Other Bill has almost mastered the innocent look. “Don’t you wanna see your dear hubby again?” He tuts softly, resting a hand on his chest. “Poor guy might even,” He hesitates. Dipper thinks he’s trying not to gag. “‘Miss’ you!”
“Nice try.” Dipper waves it off, ignoring the slight pang in his chest. Asshole. Manipulative jerk. “But I know you didn’t leave your dimension just to sightsee.”
Other Bill’s face sours. Possibly the first genuine expression Dipper’s seen; it weirdly makes him look more like the real Bill - 
“So. no.” Dipper looks away. Clearing his throat, once. “Not a chance.” He lifts his chin. “If you hate it here, that’s your problem.” 
This demon might not have enough leverage, or magic, in this realm to pull it off -  but he did say ‘Right now’.
Other Bill makes a low sound in his throat, so. Yeah, Dipper’s right. Again. 
For this to happen in the first place. This strange and bullshit switch - 
Someone had to start it.
“What was wrong with your place?” Dipper asks, because - okay, it’s dumb, but Bill loves talking. And hell, he’s always curious. “Too much competition?”
“Pfft, hardly! Kinda the opposite.” Other Bill flicks his fingers dismissively, then examines his nails. Starting to smile again, that ego bloating with pride.  “I did that dimension already, y’know? All conquering, no contest.” He shrugs. “Can’t blame a guy for wanting a little novelty.”
Greedy jerk. One wasn’t enough for him. A second, like he’s obviously trying for - Dipper rubs at his eyes.
How many is ever going to be enough? Will there ever be? If his world’s Bill Cipher seems messed up, it’s only because all of them are.
“I’m your only chance, Pine Tree.” Other Bill has mastered the convincing tone. It’s almost a shame he’s wasting it on the wrong person. “How about you-”
Dipper flips him off. Both hands this time.
With a huff, Other Bill folds his arms. “Fine. Be like that.” He turns slightly away, looking disgruntled. “You’re a stubborn little mortal.”
“I didn’t help my husband take over the world.” Dipper mimics his stance. Turning away a bit himself. “I’m not lifting a finger to help you.”
God, he’s exhausted.
And damn it, now he’s going to have to get Ford to help. It’s going to be ten times more difficult, and way slower. Half of that will be convincing him that yeah, actually, they should try to get Bill back. Throw in whatever this Bill pulls in the Mindscape, and Dipper can already tell this is going to be a huge pain.
“Y’know, if there’s any upside to all of this,” Other Bill starts, slow. Dipper feels himself tense. “It’s that the other guy might make a recovery.”
“I-” Dipper hesitates. 
This is a trick. Manipulation, Bill’s all about that - He grits his teeth. “There’s nothing wrong with him.”
“Oh, how cute. You’re fully delusional!” Other Bill’s tone turns syrup-sickly sweet. It makes Dipper grimace. “Guess other me pulled a great scam on ya! But I gotta tell you…” A slow, serious shake of the head. “He’s sick.”
That’s obviously not - 
True?
Dipper meets Bill's eye and finds nothing but smug sincerity. 
“Being back at my place will be great for him! All the power and influence and stuff you could ever want!” Other Bill spreads his arms at some invisible grandeur. “He’s spent too long in this body, being powerless. You think that’s good for a demon?” A raised eyebrow. “Even the slightest bit healthy?“
And… okay, Bill does spend a lot of time in reality - but he has the Mindscape - Dipper didn’t take that away, that - that has to - 
“No wonder he came down with something! Without other people to manipulate, he had to let it out somewhere!” Bill shakes his head pityingly. “In all this time, the only trick he managed to pull - “ The smirk turns mocking - “Was convincing himself he wanted you.” 
Sincere, still, though - maybe it’s just out of spite, that’s a major part of any Bill’s makeup - But. the way he says it - 
Dipper doesn’t know what to say, he tucks an arm over his stomach. 
For the first time in a while, he really, really wishes he knew less about Bills.
“Yep, I figure a few days of actual autonomy will get his angles straight.” Other Bill sets his fists on his hips, nodding to himself. “No gross body, no boring reality, and most of all - “ He snorts. “No ball and chain.” 
Dipper stands up straight, indignant. “I-”
“Sure, you’ve got an okay brain, I guess.” A sharp, dismissive wave. Dipper feels his face heat up - was he looking? “But your guy’s spent about forty-eight hours getting a taste of real freedom.” A shrug, fingers waving away some invisible stink from Dipper’s hand. “Trust me. He’s already wondering why that seemed like a good idea.”
“He wouldn’t.” Dipper stands firm. No, fuck that. The marriage was Bill’s idea in the first place. “He-”
Dipper stops himself before he says something stupid, shutting his mouth with a click.
He can’t talk about the… other part. 
That thing is true, too. Even though it sounds improbable. Impossible, in fact. It’s too weird, even for a Bill, and definitely too sane. No version of Bill should ever, or would ever do it. 
Other Bill will only think it’s bullshit, and mock him for thinking there was a chance.
Dipper lets his arm drop. His fists clench. 
He knows better.
“Oh, please. And people call me arrogant!” Other Bill stalks forward. “He's already forgotten you, kid. Think about it!"
Dipper doesn't back up - he won't give in, now or ever - but he holds back a flinch. Other Bill is right in his face, now. 
"What's better - Infinite power, freedom, and control over a slice of the multiverse -” He hisses. Teeth bared white in his smile. “Or one mouthy little brat.”
Dipper meets that single, strange, and glowing eye. Not backing up, even an inch. He watches Other Bill’s sneer turn into a glare. 
They’re so close that Dipper can feel the heat of that illusionary body, worn like an ill fitting suit by this… jackass. 
Who’s also a complete, absolute idiot.
“If your place was so great, you wouldn’t have ditched it.” Dipper states, watching Other Bill blink in surprise. Dipper sets his jaw. “So yeah. I think I know what he’d pick.”
No snappy response - Other Bill’s caught off his footing. 
For once, shoving a Bill with all his strength actually makes him back up a step. Dipper straightens his back, suddenly proud.  
“This universe already has a Bill Cipher. Yeah, maybe he hasn’t taken this plane over. Yet.” Or ever, but that’s a minor detail. “But he's a better actor. And smarter. And more vicious, and clever, and…” Saying all of this out loud feels strange. Sheer irritation carries Dipper onward, though he stumbles getting it out. “And funnier, and way cooler than you.”
Other Bill glares at him, but stays silent. The corner of his mouth twitches.
“In every way that counts, he’s better than you.”  He stabs a finger into Other Bill’s chest with each word, back tense and face hot with anger. Stepping forward even as a part of him recognizes this might not be great - “You’re just some dull-witted, myopic knockoff.” 
There’s a long silence. 
Dipper heaves out a breath, trying to calm down. This was. - He shakes his head, disgusted.
“Alright.” Bill nods slowly, almost thoughtful. He lifts his hands in the air with a simple shrug. “I see how it is.”
A  sudden crack sends Dipper reeling. 
He hits the bare ground on his side, breath forced out of his chest. 
When his vision comes back, Dipper stares numbly forward. 
He's on the ground? His left eye doesn't want to stay open, and - and strangely, his ear is ringing, and moments later the pain blooms in his cheek and jaw. Sharp and throbbing all at once -  a splitting headache follows it up a moment later, and Dipper groans. The light hurts his eyes - the one that’s cooperating anyway - so he shuts it.
There’s a muffled sound, and Dipper feels a hard impact on his side, a voice hissing, “-et up.”
This time Dipper rolls onto his back, breath escaping in a huff. Above him, BIll’s standing and smirking, one hand extended downward. Dipper reaches up to take it. 
And the crushing grip, tight around his wrist, sends pain down his arm and the sharp, sick reminder that. Oh. Right. 
This isn’t his Bill
“You,” Other BIll says, grip tightening - Dipper groans, teeth clenched - “Have been spoiled rotten.”
He hauls Dipper up. High up - 
Bill raises him until his feet barely skim the ground. Suspended like this, his whole arm aches, shoulder wrenched upwards -
“Funny thing, though.” Other Bill muses, cupping Dipper’s chin in his other palm. “Maybe I can’t  coax you-”  His thumb digs, hard, into Dipper’s cheek, and a burst of pain sends Dipper’s vision swimming again. “But one good swat and you’re way less mouthy!” 
Dipper can’t pull away, he can’t even find his feet. Grabbing Bill’s arm makes his grip tighten into something sickening, he thinks he feels a crack - kicking out only puts more tension on his already aching arm, twisting it in the socket. 
“Still feisty, huh?” Other Bill tuts softly. Then smirks. He tilts Dipper’s head back. “Now that I know how to handle ya, that's no big deal.”
Bill’s body is unnaturally strong, and he wasn’t pulling the blow. Through a kind of haze, Dipper’s faintly glad Bill went for a slap over a punch. He’s hurting, it’s hard to concentrate - but he doesn’t think his jaw is broken. 
More than anything, Dipper wants to glare, but he can’t lower his chin. He can’t tense his jaw to speak, either. Bill’s thumb burns into his cheek like a brand, a point of stabbing pressure.
“Aw, what’s the matter?” Other Bill shakes Dipper’s face roughly, like a dog worrying a bone. “Not got much to say anymore?”
“Ghnnn.” Not… much of a protest. Best he did was bare his teeth, and the throbbing in his head is twice as bad now - Dipper shuts his mouth before he can make a stupider sound.
Weirdly, this Bill starts grinning even harder.
“Boy, you got some fire in you, Pine Tree. And y’know what?” Bill tilts his head to one side. He chuckles, grinning wider. “I almost see why he didn’t try to snuff it out!”
Other Bill swings him lightly, side to side, before giving him a toss.
Dipper hits the ground again, hard. He props himself up, only to find one wrist won’t support his weight and swears. Sitting up turns from a simple move into an awkward scuffle.
The whole time, Other Bill watches him, with a smirk on his face. Like he’s admiring his work.
Frustration surges in Dipper’s chest. 
Pushing this guy into the Mindscape has moved from a ‘soon’ priority to a ‘now.’ 
There’ll be a chance. Once he stops being grabby. It has to be when he’s not holding on, or Dipper will get dragged along for the trip - and it’s not like things would get better after that.
Dipper takes a slow, shaking breath. “You’re not-”
Other Bill backhands Dipper with an idle smack. “Ah ah ah!” He wags a finger. “I’ve heard enough from you.”
Dipper’s elbow hits the ground, his vision swims. That slap wasn’t as hard as the previous, probably. Just in the same-ish place, resonating with pain like a bell. Normally he’d have a followup, but nothing comes to him.
Damn it, he’s been through fights, more than a few at this point - but this one is messing with him. 
“Despite everything, you could still be useful.” Bill says, low soothing. He kneels in front of Dipper, one elbow on his upraised knee. “Once I get this dimension under my thumb, it’s back to business!”
Dipper wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. It comes away streaked with red. 
“Work with me here! We could get the whole shebang started,” Other Bill continues, eye bright. “When I’m back in power, things are gonna be great.”
He holds out a hand. 
Dipper stares at it.
“Infinite power. No more bullshit rules.” Leaning in, Other Bill smiles, white and wild. “Help me out, and I’ll even be generous!” He waggles his fingers. “When I control reality - you can have anything you want.”
Dipper looks up at… this Bill. 
At a stranger, puppeting a familiar face. 
It’s a face that Dipper knows so well.
Knowing when it’s happy. When it’s upset. When it’s about to burst out laughing, or starting to sulk. When it’s a different monster behind that mask - when it doesn’t have that hidden contempt behind it - it’s even handsome. 
The distance between them is so close, and his husband’s still a million miles away. 
Other Bill makes a low sound in his throat. Maybe he saw something in Dipper’s own face, because he slowly rises up. 
“Anything,” Other Bills hisses out the words through gritted teeth. “Except that.”
Dipper grunts as Bill grabs him by his hair. He tries to jerk away, but he already has a headache, this just makes things worse.
“He’s outta here, kid. Vanished. Kaput!” Other Bill yanks him forward, and Dipper smacks a palm on the ground before the hold in his hair is the only thing supporting him. “He’s gone.” 
Though Other Bill turns his head upwards - Dipper shuts his eyes. 
“Face it, Pine Tree.” The low words ring in Dipper’s ear’s, and there’s hot breath on his face - “You’re stuck with me.”
Dipper’s been injured before - bruised, some burns, a broken bone - but it wasn’t like this. He knew Bill was strong, but it wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad. 
He feels his head get shaken again. The grip is too tight - Dipper’s eyes are stinging, and frustration burns so hot in his chest that it feels almost physical. 
The second this asshole lets go, he’s out of here. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, or how much Dipper has to work, he’s going to get rid of this jerk, and get his own jerk back. Even if it takes years. Even if it takes decades.
Anger surges inside him, and he struggles. When Dipper looks up at that horrible, smug laughter, he almost sees red in the corner of his eye.
Only…
Other Bill stops cackling. 
He glances over to Dipper’s right and quirks an eyebrow up. 
EIther that’s some complicated ruse, reading Dipper’s emotional state, maybe even what he’s seeing - 
Or - now Other Bill lets him drop, stalking away, eye narrowed - it’s not.
Dipper glances over, and his own eyebrows shoot up. 
Okay.
That's different.
Living in Gravity Falls shows you a lot of weird stuff, if you’re the kind of person who really wants to see it. Not many people get into the gritty details, or do a lot of research. 
Dipper and Ford are probably the only two people who ever really got into it, and Ford’s not here all that often. That leaves Dipper to be the resident Gravity Falls expert. 
This is one even he hasn’t seen before. 
The glow isn’t a figment of his imagination, it’s real.
Real, and weird.
There’s a long, bright eggshell-crack in the middle of the air, glowing in shades of  white-yellow… Something. That one color that Dipper has only seen in the Mindscape. The one Bill thinks is ‘pretty’. 
This thing is the source of the red light, radiating an eerie hellish aura, as the cracks start to grow and spread.
Judging by the way Other Bill looks at it, eye alight with pure avarice - rubbing his hands together, too - 
“Ha! Now there’s what I was looking for!” Other Bill strides forward, grinning wide.
Dipper grimaces.
Well. There’s his freaking ‘wound in the skin of reality’, apparently.
Just great.
 “A rift.” Other Bill purrs. He clenches his fist, grinning wide and triumphant. He starts laughing, loud and wild, lifting his arms -  “Finally, a good surprise!”
And around him, the earth shifts, and changes. 
Several rocks totter away on unsteady, newly-formed legs. A bird darts overhead and sprouts several more wings - and a the head of a deer - before it burst into flames with a squawk. 
Dipper feels his blood run cold.
Shit.
The skin of a dimension keeps its internal rules in place. When there’s a break in that, things get shifting, and strange, it isn’t meant to work like this. Just like Bill in the Mindscape - in a place where he isn’t restricted - 
When nothing enforces ‘you can’t’ - he has enough power to stand up and ask ‘why not?’
“It’s about time.” Other Bill’s laughter turns into a cackle. He stands in front of that new break in the universe, shoulders squared. “I can’t wait to get started!”
Proud, and full of his own power. 
All of it.
“Welp, guess I don’t need you anymore!” Other Bill shrugs, tilting his head with a coy grin. “Credit where it’s due - it wasn’t boring, Pine Tree!” He waves, and winks. “I’ll at least give ya that!”
Dipper watches as he paces forward - then pause. Other Bill lifts a finger in the air.
“But then again…” Other Bill hums for a moment. Dipper feels a tendril of dread seep into him.
Then Other Bill curls his finger towards himself, and Dipper gets dragged over the dirt by an invisible force.
“When it comes to you, eh.” Other Bill waggles a hand, and winks. “Maybe I’ll-”
The world goes ‘zmm’ for a moment with a taste of oranges, and a smell like earwax. The air wibbles like it’s under intense heat, only with a paisley pattern. 
Other Bill starts. He turns back towards the rift, somewhat surprised. "What."
And Dipper skids to a stop, bracing himself on the ground. He clutches at the bare dirt like it’s a lifeline, heart pounding in his chest. 
He can’t tell what’s going on. He doesn’t know what to do. But whatever’s stopping Other Bill from acting, he could practically kiss it, he’s so grateful. 
And a hand bursts out of the rift, cracking it further open. 
The motion sends not-real splinters of unreality shattering to the forest floor, bubbling up into nothingness. Dipper stares as it pats around for a moment, until it finds another part of the crack, and pushes. 
It’s a weird hand. A strange hand, black and formlessly weird. 
Instantly recognizable.
The hat pops out next. Then a top corner emerges, with a single eye shut as he strains. 
Other Bill smacks himself over the eye, muttering. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Dipper feels his heart surge, and he starts to smile. 
Bill Cipher always comes back. 
His Bill is there, Dipper can feel the bond bright inside him, like a light. Showing exactly who it is, and where he is, right down in his soul. Not distant anymore, not gone anywhere, Bill’s right there.
Bill swears, and shoves, and pushes against that interdimensional wound until his bottom angles follow him out, popping fully into reality -
And he instantly flops to the ground. Surface first, with a resonating ‘thud’. There’s some muffled swearing. Bill’s legs flail in the air. 
“Blegh.” Bill shakes himself. “Stupid friggin’-” He shoves himself up off the ground, muttering in a distinctly grumpy manner. “Lousy hack built the worst goddamn-” 
Other Bill coughs into his fist, turning away and looking distinctly uncomfortable. A bad look for one Bill must bruise both their egos. 
“Whoo! Now that was a trip,” Bill says, finally over himself. He starts dusting off his sides. He glances back at the rift, rolling in its socket. “Not as dramatic an entrance as I’d like, but eh,” He shrugs and floats in the air, lower eyelid lifted and arms raised. “Hey, Gravity Falls! Good to be back!” 
Doing the impossible is in Bill’s purview, and usually Dipper tries to figure it out. There’s always questions when it comes to his demon. Always the urge to make it seem reasonable.
This time, Dipper has no questions, at all. Bill can do whatever the hell he likes.
“And boy, lemme tell ya,” Bill continues, brushing his hat off. He plops it down to float over his top corner, fists resting on his sides. “You would not believe the day I’ve had.”
Other Bill clears his throat, and steps forward, halfway blocking Dipper’s view. The jerk. 
“Huh.” Bill folds his arms over himself, leaning forward, eye narrow. “You.”
“Well, well, well,” Other Bill says. There’s a smile on his face, with no humor behind it. “If it isn’t Bill! Nice to see ya!”
“Bill.” Bill floats closer, looking him over. His fingers drum on his other arm. “Real nice to meet ya.” A clear and blatant lie.
There’s a long, awkward silence. 
“So….” Other Bill trails off, clearly searching for a topic. Once he alights on one, he grins. “How was the vacation?” A wink. “ Thought you might need one, considering…” He waves over… everything. “Your place.”
“Oh, ‘vacation’, he says.” Bill makes the finger quotes, flaring bright gold. “Sure, I've had a good look around your digs.” He sets his fists on his sides. “And lemme tell ya, I was not impressed.”
Other Bill snorts - though his back straightens in offense “C’mon, it’s pre-conquered! Free reign over a whole plane!” He spreads his arms wide with a smile. “Compared to this craphole, what’s not to like?”
“Oh, of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” Bill smacks his top corner, low and sarcastic. “Except that taking things over is seventy percent of the fun!” Bill glows brighter, slightly tinged with red. “You plopped your pre-chewed gum of a dimension in my palm outta friggin’ nowhere!”
Other Bill draws himself up self-importantly. “Like what you’ve got is-”
“Ah, cram it. I didn’t come back for this.” Bill shoves him to one side, dismissive, and floats right past him. Other Bill stays upright, but his shoes leave a streak in the dirt. He sputters, indignant. Bill glares, pointing two fingers at him. “I’ll deal with you later.”
As that single, strange eye finally alights on him, Dipper scrambles to get to his feet.
He wants to see Bill again. He wants to grab this stupid triangle and shake him, and yell at him, try and crush those metal angles like a tin can in his arms, even though it’s impossible -
“Hey there, sapling!” Bill spreads his noodly black arms wide, lower eyelid raised, and glowing. “How’re you-”
Only when Dipper moves to prop himself onto his feet, he forgets about his wrist.
It fails within the first push - Dipper swears - and he thumps back down into the dirt.
Across the clearing, Bill’s slit pupil narrows to a thin line. His arms drop.
Great. Instead of leaping up, and being cool and dramatic, Dipper looked dumb.
He lets his head drop onto the ground. Even the rest of his face feels hot now. 
Shit, he should -
“Hm.” It’s a low, displeased sound. 
Then Dipper hears Other Bill speak up - 
“Oh no. No no no no, and no. C’mon, you’re smarter than this.” Other Bill sounds almost… scolding? “Believe it or not, I got an understanding of your particular damage.” His voice holds a sneer. “You gotta know how messed up you are!”
Okay, what?
Dipper rolls onto his side, pushing himself into a sitting position. He has to see this. 
His Bill’s gone fully red now. Growing, and - actually, he keeps growing, eye black and full of golden symbols. He cracks nonexistent knuckles. One hand, then the other.
“Oh come on! This is bullshit!” Other Bill looks up at him with disgust, head tilting back as Bill grows. Some confusion flickers over his face. He glances over, waves an arm at Dipper. “He’s just a-”
One enormous hand draws its index finger back, and flicks.
Watching Other Bill sail over - then through - some of the treeline makes Dipper feel the best he has in at least two days. 
By the distant, but loud cracking of branches - Dipper winces at a particularly loud one - That Bill… might not be out of commission. But it’ll be a long, long walk to get back to the rift he wanted.
“Welp!” Bill shrinks down again, brushing off his hands. Golden again, and bright. “That’s a problem for later.” He casts a glare at the arc Other Bill made through the branches, and sets his hands on his sides. “Jeez, what a prick.”
Bill floats over, and Dipper glances up at the irritated, eerie shape in front of him “As for you, kid. -”
Bill’s triangular form starts to wobble and shift. Weirdly bright, and oddly silent. Dipper shuts his eyes against the light. When he looks again, it’s at -
A recognizable face. With a bright grin on said face, charming and pleased. 
“Bet you’re glad to see a familiar look. Huh?” Bill - in a human shape, the one he’s always in - winks. “Get it?” He waits for a beat - then rolls his eye, and holds out an arm towards Dipper. “Alright, get up already.”
Dipper just…  stares at him for a moment. 
He did know Bill could shapeshift. Size and color and some varieties of geometry he’s seen, but he wasn’t aware it could be this… thorough. Though he supposes Bill hasn’t really had much reason; he’s not typically out of shape. 
Bill’s grin falls by a fraction. “Sure, don’t break out the party crackers and champagne or anything. Totally wasn’t a pain in the angles getting that mess sorted.” He jerks a thumb in the rift’s direction. He waits a bit, then pushes the smile back on his face. “Aw, you’re too stunned to react! C’mere!”
Dipper gets hauled up, Bill holding him under his arms. He shuts his eyes, and clenches his jaw tight. Bill’s grip isn’t hard - if anything it’s less so than usual -  but Dipper’s wrist really didn’t like being moved again.
“What, did you think I wouldn’t show up?” Bill’s grin widens. He’d probably be preening if he wasn’t holding Dipper up like he just won a carnival prize - though his gaze keeps darting over Dipper. “Like you’d get rid of me that easy.”
Dipper doesn’t have a response ready. He… should probably think of one.
Nothing comes to mind, though. Mostly there’s headache and faceache and just… ache, with relief and surprise fighting for the steering wheel. Wit’s so far in the backseat it might as well be in the trunk.
Bill’s grin continues falling by degrees; it falters. Glancing over Dipper, up and down, turning him slightly side to side
“C’mon, sapling, speak up.” Dipper gets jostled, just a quick couple bounces. Now Bill’s face is strange, and serious. He even pauses, and Dipper dimly realizes he hasn’t seen this expression before - “I hate it when you won’t talk.”
True enough. His Bill hates not getting a response, the attention hogging, narcissistic - 
Dipper breathes in, shakily, and sighs. He looks at his stupid demon, exasperated. “Put me down, Bill.”
The grin blooms again, even brighter this time. “Ha! I don’t think so!” Dipper watches Bill’s posture change as relief rises off him like steam. He pulls Dipper closer, pressing an overly-dramatic smooch on his jaw. “You already had your vacation from me, Pine Tree. I’ll do whatever I want!”
It’s ridiculous, and - and maybe a little sentimental, but Dipper feels heat rise to his face. Like warmth spreads out from where Bill’s touching him.
Dipper blinks rapidly, and clears his throat. “Let me down?” He tugs at Bill's arm, just gently.
“Alright, alright,” Bill, surprisingly, relents without much fight. He sets Dipper on his feet, smile fading somewhat. “Let’s have a look at ya, anyway.” 
“I’m fine.” Dipper lets his forehead drop against Bill’s shoulder. It’s solid and warm. Tension is dropping out of his shoulders, which is probably why they’re shaking. 
Dipper’s been in worse shape - and in better - but things are a hell of a lot finer than even three minutes ago. 
“Right,” Bill says, very dry. Dipper gets pushed slightly away, a knuckle tilts his chin upwards. “‘Cause this just screams fine, like a horrorshow!” Bill’s eye darts over his face - frowning now, lips drawn tight. “Where else did he get ya?”
Weird question. "Nothing serious.”  Dipper tries tucking his arm by his side, but that only makes Bill's face turn down more. “It’s cool.”
"It's only 'cool', for a guy who's lost all sense of thermoregulation." Bill tugs Dipper’s arm up by the elbow, glaring at his wrist. Admittedly, it is swelling a little. “You’re real crap at lying.”
Dipper watches as Bill taps a warm finger on the reddening skin, and sucks in a sharp breath. Bill’s lip twitches. He lets the arm down carefully, only to grasp Dipper’s sides. 
“Don’t bother covering stuff up, ‘cause for once I’m not messing with you.” Bill says, flat this time. "Own up to the rest, already." And at Dipper’s look of confusion - Bill tugs him closer, strangely serious. ”He wouldn’t have started with the face.”
Dipper swallows, and nods. 
Sure, he knows Bill -  but Bill definitely knows himself, so that’s. Deeply unnerving, on multiple levels.
But also, thankfully, wrong. 
Bill’s running his hands up and down, squeezing like he’s checking for a soft spot on some produce. Not finding much - though there’s a spot on Dipper’s ribs he hadn’t noticed himself. For some reason Bill’s only more insistent after that -
“Hey.” Dipper taps Bill on the cheek. He offers a half-smile, the best he can manage. It startles Bill enough that his inspection slows. “I missed you.”
Maybe Bill has a follow up to that. Maybe he’s going to insult, or - something, but fuck it, Dipper did miss him, and - 
He wraps his arms around his husband. One can’t join in properly, but Dipper thumps Bill between the shoulders, and hugs on tight.
Let him try to get away from this.
Possessive arms clamp around him in response. A comforting bear trap that Dipper intentionally set off, even if it isn’t nearly as squishing as usual. Like Bill isn’t certain how much to hold him, even though he’s had plenty of experience.
Dipper relaxes into it anyway. 
When Bill shapeshifted, he must have used the body template he’s used to wearing. Even now, Dipper can feel his heart, steady and comforting, beating somewhat faster than the usual second-and-a-half pace.
Then Bill sighs. “Well, whatever. You’re pretty intact! All limbs accounted for and everything!” A firm kiss gets planted on Dipper’s forehead. Then another on his temple, before Bill basically shoves Dipper’s face against his neck. Adding a couple thumps of his own on Dipper’s back. “Not too shabby, all things considered.”
Bill finally squeezes Dipper’s waist with one arm. His other hand cups the back of Dipper's head, fingers carding through Dipper’s hair, once, then twice.
Every time Bill wants to hug Dipper close, he throws in human-abnormal pressure. Not painful, just to one side of uncomfortable; like he’ll never, ever let Dipper escape his grasp.
Dipper matches it as well as he can. He kind of gets it now.
With the sounds of the forest, and Bill here, and holding him, it’s almost like things are normal. Quiet and still, while he feels the warmth of Bill's body his arms, and the bright red glow of the air - 
Dipper jerks his head up.
Staring at the still-extant crack in reality.
Thankfully it doesn’t seem to have grown since, but if he looks too close it kinda hurts his eyes. And part of his brain.
“Uh.” Dipper taps Bill a few times on the shoulder. There's a sigh against his scalp, as Bill hums something quietly. Dipper taps a little harder. “Bill?”
“What?” The word is slightly muffled by Dipper’s hair. 
Dipper nudges him. “Should I be worried about that?”
“Hm?” It takes Bill a moment - he tilts his head, following Dipper’s gaze - then smirks. He snorts, like Dipper pointed out a big scary bug in the bathroom. “Pfft, oh, that.” 
True to form, a ten-foot eggshell crack in the flesh of the universe doesn’t seem like a big deal to him. Dipper leans back and meets his eye skeptically.
“That’s barely a papercut, not a genuine fistula. Nothing important..” Bill waves over the rift, other arm staying tight on Dipper’s waist. “We got bigger fish to fry!”
Dipper hesitates. “Uh.” He darts a look at the rift, then back again. “Really?”
“Oh, definitely! That Bill and I have some unfinished business,” Bill’s eye glows red, and his grin shows an absurd amount of teeth. “We’ve gotta have a little chat.”
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chryzure-archive · 1 year
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GOD, but the slow dawning horror azure must’ve had as he realized he couldn’t escape his family, his legacy. he ran off with chrysi to study the problem and own three cats and be, ultimately, two normal ppl (or as normal as you can get when your girlfriend can still see and communicate with ghosts long past the age when her abilities should’ve faded, but… hey, he still got to meet the family and meet her four adoptive brothers and try to impress them! normal ppl things!!).
then thoughts that weren’t his own began to press into his head. he’d be watching chrysi make him tea and then he’d feel the urge to take her hand and press it into the hot stove until it gave her permanent scarring. and, god, he was so scared—of himself, and for chrysi—until he realized that they weren’t his thoughts, and then got even more scared.
nothing he did helped, after that. mordecai’s smart—he’d give azure ring scares like that, then lull him into a sense of security by allowing azure total calm for weeks. sometimes months at a time. but he’d always come back with a horrible thought or impulse or dream, to keep azure on edge. keep him sleepless. weaken his defenses so he could take control over him.
it was the end of azure lafaye as azure lafaye the night that he woke up with his hands around chrysi’s neck. they were hovering, really, but azure woke up and knew that if he’d been just a moment too late, he would’ve killed the only person that mattered to him. in fact, he knew that mordecai had woken him up on purpose. it was a warning—return to the fold, else he’ll kill chrysi by azure’s own hands.
so azure returns. he could never run away. he was trapped from the start. there was no escape. his father allowed all his rebellions, and he decided when they would stop. and now his father would take his place for him.
#memorie.txt#s.chryzure#p.ghosthood#tangentially. anyway this makes me scream into my pillow… the tragedy that is penelope fittes but projects that onto azure#and chrysi’s pov of her boyfriend becoming more and more reclusive and hollow#then disappearing without a word#only for her to read the newspapers and realize that azure’s still alive… he’s the new head of his father’s company.#he never contacted her. he’s alive. he’s well. HE NEVER CONTACTED HER.#and when she tries to contact him (begging crying pleading w her azure but she doesn’t realize that it’s NOT her azure) he ignores her#mordecai deliberately has to keep himself away frm chrysi because he knows that her presence would be enough for azure to break free#AUGH… and yet even under the control of mordecai azure finds ways to rebel—to send out an SOS#hiring george’s agency. sending an invite to a high end ball to chrysi. going to the parade knowing both george and chrysi will be there#he can do so very little but he makes it count!!#then chrysi figures out what’s going on first—mordecai manhandles her out and she cries out ‘azure you’re hurting me!’#and the way he drops her arm with such an anguished look on his face tells her everything#oh god. it’s not azure. he’s still there but it’s not azure. he’s trapped. she can’t do anything abt it-—not yet#and then after that mordecai keeps her as far away from him as possible#she’s battling her way back to azure but it’s taking too long! that’s her bunny! he’s in pain! PLEASE BRING HIM BACK TO HER#george’s agency ends up saving the day w chrysi but it took much too long for her liking#after that she and azure are impossible to pry away from each other for almost an entire month#they are never letting go of each other again!!!
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 24 days
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Try Me
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: suggestive
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"Lan, c'mon..please don't go." You whined tightening your grip on Lando's shirt. "Stay with me"
"Baby, I want to, believe me, I do, but I told you I promised your brother to go out with him tonight. Why don't you come along with us?" He asked holding your cheeks between his hands and leaving a kiss on the tip of your nose.
"Because I want to spend some time alone with you. Why can't he go out with Charles or anyone else?"
"Charles is not feeling well, and besides, it will be suspicious if I turn him down for the second time today." He explained trying to get some sense into you, but you just decided to be a brat today because, well, you just felt like it. You wanted his attention. You needed his attention.
"Fine. Go with him then. I don't care." You pouted crossing your arms and turning your gaze away from him.
"Y/n.." He sighed turning your chin with his finger making you look at him. "I'm trying my best to spend as much time as possible with you here. If Carlos knew I spent the whole day with his sister in her hotel room I'd probably be a dead man right now. So if you want me alive, you gotta let me go now okay?"
Everything Lando said made sense. It's true that Carlos would haunt Lando for the rest of his life if he knew that he had been seeing his 5 years younger sister for over 6 months now. It's also true that Lando is a bit torn between the two of you. He doesn't want any trouble with his best friend, but he also doesn't want to even think about having to stop seeing you.
Lando and you were not in a relationship, well, not officially, you didn't call it a relationship because you were forbidden to him. You had been seeing each other for half a year and both of you knew that there was something more between you, more than just sex although you never put a label on it. The more time passed the more you liked each other and wanted to spend more time together so it got harder to keep it a secret.
"Give me a kiss" He said leaning down to your lips. You hesitate for a second, but give in rolling your eyes which Lando doesn't take very well. "No, no, don't do that."
You ignore him and head towards the bathroom not wanting to wait until he leaves your room. You just wanted to show your dissatisfaction with all your might.
"I'll talk to you later okay?"
"Whatever" You muttered before slamming the bathroom door shut.
Later that night, Lando was texting you just to check up on you, to see what you're doing, to see how you're spending your time without him and you decided to continue being a brat for the rest of the night. Because you just felt like it today.
'Just took a shower. Think I'm gonna go check up on Charles since he's not feeling well'
You replied smirking knowing that you mentioning Charles would completely push his buttons with you tonight. Ever since Carlos introduced you to them, both Charles and Lando have been trying to flirt with you. Only Charles has been doing it directly and Lando was more subtle with it. Lando was always more mysterious about it, that's probably the reason why you were attracted to him and not Charles.
So ever since he got his eyes on you, he hated that Charles was trying to get your attention. He hated that he was still doing it and yet he couldn't do anything about it because you two were a well kept secret.
'Oh really? Carlos and I saw him. He's just fine so you don't have to do that.'
He was replying back to your messages within seconds. You knew he was going crazy about it.
'Well, I'm gonna go check anyway'
Of course you weren't gonna go. You were all ready for bed, but since you didn't get what you wanted tonight, you decided to play with his head a little.
'Y/n..You have nothing to look for in his room'
'I mean it's not like I have a boyfriend if you really think about it. So..I don't think it would be inappropriate, no? '
'I can hear the attitude through the text. Fix it, before I fuck it out of you.'
His text sent shivers through your body. You threw your head back against your pillow sighing and reminiscing the way this morning the bed was squeaking beneath you two.
'I don't think you're gonna do anything about it'
'Oh, try me then'
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angelltheninth · 2 months
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Faster Than Healing Magic
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, angst, injury, hurt/comfort, cuddles, soothing kisses
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: Haven't done angst yet and I wouldn't be me without writing angst.
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You kept a smile on your face while Alastor chatted with Charlie, Vaggie and Lucifer, partially complaining about his, and your, new tower, the bedroom, pretty much everything. He was being petty as fuck. Which meant he wasn't doing as bad as you thought he was.
Still he wasn't doing great either.
"Do not give me those big, sad eyes darling. This is but a scratch." He boasted as he got changed for bed. The cut was still bleeding and it looked quite deep. "No hugs for your hero? I thought held my own pretty well." So he said but from his slightly tilted ears you knew he didn't feel that way entirely.
It was more then just his body that got hurt, it was also his ego. Alastor had that in spades. And while you can't really do anything about that problem you can do something about the cut across his torso.
"Alright mister tall, red and spooky, get on the bed." You pointed at it expectedly.
"Oh-ho! So we are having that kind of celebration are we?" Alastor wiggled his eyebrows at you, "I'm not particularly in the mood but I suppose surviving a big battle would constitute some-" You took him by the hand and pushed him to sit down, his deer tail moving in excitement. "Aggressive."
You felt your face and neck flushing. It wasn't fair that he could tease you like this at times like this. "Not that! And you called me a pervert. I want to bandage your injury. Clean it too, no way am I letting it get infected on my watch."
He sat on the bed cross-legged on the bed, humming a tune that was way too cheerful for someone in his current perdicament. But if he wasn't doing that and smiling then you would really be worried.
This was a good sign.
You came back with bandages for him and sat in front of him, leaning in close to first clean and stitch up the wound. As your fingers approached him you glanced up, confirming that he was okay with your touch. He was always sensitive about that so you thought it was better safe then sorry. Whatever he did to treat this cut it was very sloppy. Probably because he wanted to get back as soon as possible.
He had so many smaller cuts all over his body, his chest, back, stomach, arms, legs, even his neck. You can't imagine the kind of life he lived before this and he would never tell you the stories of these scars. What little you did know of him when he was alive was information he shared willingly during pillow talk.
What surprised you, and alarmed you, was that he never flinched while you worked on the stitching. He seemed like he was enjoying it.
"All clean and sowed up. Put your hands up for me, I need to get this all the way around." Alastor didn't protest, he grinned wider when you had to be face to face with him to get the bandages on tight enough, "Not too tight?"
"Not at all. Thank you for your hard work darling. But you know I don't mind a little blood." Alastor patted his chest, examening your work. He seemed pleased enough despite his protests.
You cringed, "But I do, Al, I don't want blood all over the bed, or me." It seemed like it would be quite the gruesome sight to wake up to. Shivering from the images in your head you made him scoot up to his spot as you took yours, right next to him, your head against his chest. "If you're in pain wake me up. Promise me."
"Of course, I promise. You really do worry too much over me. I am much tougher than I look, you'll see, by tomorrow morning this will be but a scar and a memory." Alastor kissed the crown of your head softly, he was always soft and gentle with you in moments like these.
"I hope so." At least you knew the full story behind this scar, and maybe someday he'll tell you about the rest.
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Text
Dangerous Conditions - Charles Leclerc
Summary: Charles and all of the drivers have concern for the conditions with the limit of laps for tyres already causing worry. But when Charles spots his girlfriend struggling in parc ferme, his own exhaustion is ignored to help her.
Alfa Romeo driver!reader
No part 2 requests please
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If someone had told y/n her car had caught on fire with flames being the reason for her blood boiling her alive then there would've been no doubt from her side about it being completely true. She felt like her skin had melted to through her fireproofs and racing suit.
Her sweat only added to her heat, seeming to boil her skin further.
She would have been sick if she could ever get enough air to heave.
"Ok, that's P8, y/n. Amazing work. Good points. Well done, we're very proud." Her race engineer states as she does the cool down lap but y/n feels like she's almost choking as she tries to lift her visor just enough to let in some air. "How you feeling in there y/n? Sargeant had to retire because he felt unwell. Other drivers were complaining about the heat. Are you ok? You've been quiet."
Y/n gulps a couple breaths before raising her finger to the radio button.
"That's great work everyone. Thanks to the team, the pit stops were amazing. I uh..." Y/n chokes feeling her mouth too dry and sticky.
"Y/n?"
"A little hot. Just need some water, the drink was too hot to drink. It burned my mouth." Y/n states finally pulling into parc ferme and following the directions to park up, actually right next to Charles.
She shuts the car off resting back in the seat while the numbing shock seems to wear off. She thought her pain was bad during the race but now her muscles are relaxing a little. Her body screaming in the heat.
"Y/n? Do you need some help?"
"I'm just...I need a moment. I'm ok." Y/n insists slowly removing her steering wheel and placing it on beside the halo.
Her heart feels like it's jack hammering her chest, beating at her sore lungs as if it's almost bruising them. She attempts to use the halo to get herself out but her muscles set on fire from the strain and she feels blood rush away from her head.
"Y/n?" A voice calls as she feels her head be pulled up and the strap of her helmet be undone. "Y/n? Can you get out the car?"
"No. No. I can't." Y/n breathes as her balaclava follows suit with her helmet and she looks up at her boyfriend. Too dehydrated to even form tears as she looks at him. "It hurts to try and pull myself up."
"Ok, it's ok." Charles assures her looking at the alfa mechanic who places a fan down to point at the young woman before they body manage to reach and position her so they can get her out, only just to try and cool her. "Can I undo you suit?"
Y/n nods actually feeling better for being out the car, but her muscles are still failing her. Her body is soaked and dripping through the suit. Charles is literally peeling it from her as her upper body cools at the feeling of the fan blowing air at her.
She breaths resting her head forward onto Charles, he's burning hot too but she's struggling to keep herself upright without the world spinning.
They manage to get her to the weigh-in but she only just manages to hold herself up long before her trainer catches her and moves over to get her slip of how much she weigh.
"Christ, y/n. You lost 7 kilos."
"I don't feel like I have."
"We need to cool you down quickly. Media is going to have to wait."
Y/n finds herself in an ice bath that she's never been more grateful for. She dunks her head in the water feeling like she might be doing some damage to put her body in such hugely different temperatures.
"Y/n. The media is here!" Her trainer shouts making her reappear.
"I'm ok. I was just too hot." Y/n dismisses while the medic sighs.
"We just want to run some tests. Can you come to the medical centre once you're done here?"
"Yeah, of course."
-
Y/n was excused from media in the end along with both the Williams drivers but Charles was asked about his girlfriend's well-being.
"We saw y/n struggling a lot to get out the car you and a mechanic helped her and she looked very weak. Have you seen or spoke to her?"
"Not yet. She's in the medical centre right now. But I'll be going to see her soon." Charles states earning a nod and thanks.
He has to get to the debrief which Fred seems to make quick work off since Carlos didn't race and Charles wants to get out of there as soon as possible.
Y/n is still waiting outside, her trainer holding a fan stolen from the garage at her since she's still too hot.
"Finally. She wouldn't let without you even on doctors orders."
Charles looks at his exhausted girlfriend who appears to have showered and made a strong attempt at cleaning up but her body is slumped and visibly in desperate need of sleep.
"Come on, mon amour." Charles smiles pulling her up with both hands which is definitely needed. Usually he'd carry her, but his body also took a draining during that race and he doesn't want to risk dropping her. "I assume we will not be cuddling tonight no?"
"No. Definitely not." Y/n laughs tiredly but she can't really put her whole into it.
Safe to say she'll be sleeping hard tonight.
By the time they get back to the hotel, Charles is aiding her in her walk to the hotel. Her body getting heavier and heavier till she's placed down on the bed where she's asleep before her head hits the pillow.
"Will she be ok?" Charles asks looking at her trainer.
"The doctor said it's heat exposure. Rest is the best thing for her. Maybe keep the air conditioning on through the night, keep her from get. Call me if she seems to take a bad turn. She probably won't but just if she seems really uncomfortable."
Charles nods while Andrea looks at him a silent question of if Charles is alright himself. He seemed ok, hot but not struggling nearly as much as most of the drivers.
It doesn't really take him much time to fall asleep too and while cuddling is off the cards, he does keep his hand latched onto her own.
-
After they got back to Monaco, some more tests to make sure her organs were all alright, mainly her kidneys and liver were checked.
Y/n is still lethargic and sleeping or dozing through the next few days.
But it's when Charles is on the sim that he finds her seeming to be more like herself as she appears.
"Mon amour, how are you feeling?" Charles smiles while she sits on the floor beside his seat. "Are you ok?"
"A bit hungry. I was thinking of just running to the store."
"I'll come."
"No, I just came to check if you wanted anything."
"I'll come with you." Charles reaffirms earning a small smile.
Charles helps y/n up to her feet before turning everything off and guiding her out of the apartment. She'd changed before coming to get him and seems fairly eager to grab all types of food when they get to the store.
"Next time we're in Qatar. I'm refusing to drive if it's like that again." Y/n sighs with a huff as she throws more food into the cart.
"I'm ok with that." Charles smiles since he hated to seeing y/n so weak after the race and hated seeing her so weak in the days following. "I think you and a few of the drivers might stand up against the race going forward if it's the same dangerous conditions."
"You were ok."
Charles frowns looking at his girlfriend since she almost sounds upset.
"Mon amour?"
"You were ok...but I couldn't handle it."
"A lot of the drivers couldn't cope with the heat-and I felt it too, it's just I managed to come out least of the worst." Charles states then pulling y/n to himself. "You were in hot air behind others for most of the race."
"Still I should've been able to handle it all so much better."
"You know you're not being fair on yourself." Charles sighs then lifting her hand up and kissing it while she manages a small smile at him. "It won't happen again and you finished the race in the points. You should be proud."
Usually y/n might argue, after all F1 drivers will never allow themselves the luxury of praise unless they're on the top of the podium. But for now she's going to enjoy Charles' praising.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos
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margotw10bis · 5 months
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Champagne Confetti. JJK [m]
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boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader
Genre: smut (basically a porn with a plot)
Words: 6.1k
Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans
Warnings (be ready): live sex; rough sex; face ridding; squirting (olympics waterfall y'all); multiple orgasms (idk how oc is still alive)
Jungkook is enjoying the show. How can he not when his girlfriend has her legs wide open and enters her dripping pussy with two fingers. The pleasure makes you loudly moan and your eyes roll back. You smile brightly, looking straight with lustful eyes. You are definitely hot right now, you know it. And if you didn't, the hundred of comments in the chat would inform you.
Someone is complimenting the pink leds' reflection on your skin, another one wishes you could use the dildo you've showed a few days ago, and a new comment praises you for being 'a sweet good girl'. You smile instantly at it because you know damn well that it comes from your boyfriend. To please him, you enhance the pace of your digits entering you and pinch your hard nipple just like he likes. You're one second away from moaning his name but you know you can't, so you settle for:
"I'm playing with my little pussy just for you"
Even if Jungkook is in his couch, a few miles away from your place, he gets that you are talking to him and his hard cock twitches in his pants. He is mindlessly caressing himself through his sweatpants. You've told him a hundred of times that he could stay at your place when you work but he has declined every single time. Your boyfriend knows he doesn't have the strength to hear you pleasuring yourself a few feet away without storming in and fucking you rough. You wouldn't mind but, after a long conversation with him, you have learnt that he doesn't want to appear on camera. And you totally get it, even though you would love him to fuck you on camera.
You know that your job is not a common one and that some people are very judgmental. However, you love sex and you get paid for it. You turn on your camera, use your fingers or toys to make you cum and that's it. You know that you also please other people, so what's wrong with that? And one of the things you love the most about Jungkook is that he has never judged you. He loves you just the way you are, with all the things that come with you — including your cam girl occupation.
When you turn on your vibrator, a beautiful toy in a baby blue color, you think about Jungkook — especially since he is the one who gave it to you. You place it on your sensitive clit and your groans get louder. You are very close to cum and you know that the way you get choked up by pleasure is enjoyed by your audience because the cash is flowing.
Your boyfriend smirks from the other side of the screen. You are so fucking beautiful when your face is torn by pleasure. He absolutely loves seeing your juices dripping down your ass and land on your bed, drawing a wet spot on it. It's so fucking hot. Jungkook loves how your head rolls back when you are close to cum. But that's also why you don't see the comment that makes Jungkook's heart stop: 'I can fuck you better than your loser of a boyfriend'.
———
"Baby, what's wrong?"
Your worry is well noticeable on your face. Jungkook, despite being as sweet as ever, has grown a little... distant. At first, you thought you were imagining things but now you have no doubt. During your usual movie date at your place — you have a much bigger screen than Jungkook —, you were trying to switch your cuddling into something... else. But Jungkook has stopped your hands from reaching his crotch area. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want sex because men don't always want sex. But he doesn't even let you touch him and that has never happened during the eight months you have been together.
You are feeling stressed and sad. Did you do something wrong? Or is he leaving you like your exes because, despite Jungkook saying he is okay with your job, he might not be at the end of the day?
"Is it me?" You lowly ask, pain and unsureness in your voice
Jungkook's head immediately snaps toward you and he cups your face. He doesn't want you to be hurt just because his little ego has been bruised. It's not your fault, not at all.
"No, of course not!" He exclaims and it soothes your heart a little
"Then, tell me"
Jungkook sighs. Is it even worth saying? It's so stupid. Your boyfriend shouldn't feel threatened by a stranger on the Internet but he can't help it.
"I... There was a comment on your chat the other day" He starts and you tilt your head out of curiosity "It said that they could fuck you better than me"
You bust into laugh but quickly stop when you see no sign of humour in your boyfriend's dark eyes.
"They just talk, they feel brave behind a screen. I'm sure the guy wouldn't even make me cum. Baby, you know it's not true" You argue and settle a gentle kiss on his cheek
"No, I don't" Jungkook replies with a harsh and hurt tone, his jaws clenched
You're taken aback. You stay silent for a minute, wondering how could you make Jungkook understand that he is the best sex you've ever had. But there is not a hundred solutions. You tell him to wait until you call him.
You go to your bedroom, light up your pink leds, change your clothes for Jungkook's favorite underwear — a matching black lacy bra and thong — and prep everything for him. When everything is neat, you sit on your bed covered with pink silk sheets and call him.
Surprise is painting his face. He gulps when he notices how powerful and sexy you look right now. You pat the spot next to you on the bed to urge your boyfriend to sit, which he does. You immediately capture his lips with yours.
The kiss gets heated. You lick his rings in the corner of his lower lip and then slide your tongue into his mouth. You are quick to change position to sit on his lap and deepen the kiss. You have always loved how his tongue felt soft against you.
You grab his hands to place them on your ass and you smirk when they squeeze it. It's just a reflex, Jungkook can't control it. Neither can he control his hardening dick. You grind on it, pressing your already wet pussy against the bulge forming on his black sweatpants and rolling your hips at a sensual pace. You rest a hand on his large shoulder while the other one tugs on his black locks.
"Babe—" Jungkook tries to argue but you prevent him from talking with a bite on his lower lip, making it swollen and red
You grab the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up until you can take it off from your boyfriend's hot body. You glance at his brawny torso and run your index on the ink darkening his arm. You have always loved the tattoo on his shoulder. Your hand reaches up again to caress it before going South to his abs. You smile when you notice that your caresses cut Jungkook's breathe.
You attack his throat with your lips, settling wet kisses and bitting his thin skin. You suck on it to mark him because the purple hickeys always look so good on him. You know that you just have to tease him a little more for Jungkook to go wild, that's why you poke out your tongue and take a fat lap from his collarbone to his ear. You gently bite the lobe between two earrings and whisper :
"I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk tomorrow"
The low growl coming from Jungkook makes you shiver with horniness and you know you're going to get what you wanted. You instantly feel him spanking harshly the soft flesh of your asscheeks. You moan at the burn but you don't have time to appreciate it because Jungkook lands another slap on your left cheek. It tickles so fucking good that you have to bite on his neck to prevent a long scream of pleasure. Your pussy is so, so wet that it's staining your boyfriend's pants.
He digs his fingers so deep into the flesh of your ass that his knuckles turn white and that it'll leave bruises on your flesh. He uses his grip to spread your asscheeks and gets a full view on your two glistening holes in the mirror placed in front of your bed. Even with the dimmed light, he clearly sees how your arousal is smeared all over your cunt.
"You messy girl. Do you see how dirty you are?" He lowly growls
He doesn't wait for an answer and slaps your — already red and abused — ass. The sound of the spank echoes in your bedroom, the same way it's followed by your choked moan. How can Jungkook doubt about how good he makes you feel?
You sneak a hand on your back to undo your bra and offer a great view on your tits. You press your breasts against Jungkook's face and you feel the vibration more than you hear his moan. He leaves messy kisses everywhere on your boobs, sucking the flesh from time to time. Your head rolls back and you arch your back when he captures a hard nipple between his teeth. He is chewing on it and a pool of arousal leaks from your clenching pussy. He then roughly sucks on it, just like he would do if he wanted to suckle on a bottle.
One of his hand appears to grab your other tit, slightly slapping it too. The air gets kicked off your lungs when Jungkook suddenly bites the nipple he had in his mouth, provoking a loud whine from you. The pain mix with pleasure when he rolls his tongue around it to soothe you.
You push him on the bed so he rests his back on your mellow mattress and swiftly place your knees on both sides of his handsome face. You give him a last smile before you sit down on his face.
You feel his tongue pressing against your covered clit and you can't help but roll your hips. With a precise movement, Jungkook's inked fingers hook your thong and push it aside so he can directly access your cunt. His tongue slides up and down your slick folds and his nose bumps onto your clit. Your moans are filling your room and you have no choice but to grab your boyfriend's hair to steady yourself. You are glad that he still has long locks and only cut short the sides.
"Fuck, baby, it's so good" You groan but you get choked up when he suddenly suck on your clit "Oh my fucking god!"
Jungkook smirks against your pussy while your juices are leaking down all over his face. He grabs your ass and makes you grind on his face at a fast pace. Your brain gets foggy at the feeling of his expert tongue and nose bumping against your bud of nerves and sliding onto your vulva. You press deeper to feel more, not caring if you're suffocating Jungkook. You are too deep into pleasure to care and you know he has enough strength to push you away if he needs to. His tongue teases your entrance but never gets in, preferring rolling around your clit instead to drive you crazy.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You inform him and you get closer when Jungkook digs his fingers deeper into the flesh of your ass
"Make me drink that potion" He teases against your wetness
Your arousal gets the grinding real smooth on your boyfriend's ruined face and it's fucking hot. He even jiggles his head from left to right at a quick pace to reach all the spots of your pussy, filling your bedroom with sloppy and oh so hot sounds, and you explode. You're cumming hard and the spasms of your body have rarely been so strong. You don't even have the strength to keep your upper body up and fall miserably on your bed with a goofy grin.
"Good girl" He praises
With a predator eye, Jungkook pokes his tongue out and licks your juices on his lips. It does little to clean him up because there are traces of your arousal on his chin, cheeks and nose. All his lower face is glistening with your wetness that it's fucking hot. He grabs his former t-shirt that was abandoned on your bed and wipes off his face.
"You're beautiful" You whisper, making Jungkook smile and his eyes get more affectionate
"You are more, baby" He replies and prevents you from arguing by capturing yours lips
You taste your cum on his tongue and moan in the kiss. Your hands work on his pants to push it down, along with his briefs. He is so hard right now that his cock twitches instantly when you grab it. You love how thick he is, he always stretches you well.
"I want to feel you in me" You tell him
Jungkook only replies with a nod and scoots over just the time to completely peel him naked. Your eyes travel through his perfect body, from his shoulders to his strong thighs passing through his abs. However, it's his dick that attracts you the most. You bite your lower lip and open your legs wider for your boyfriend.
You're surprised when two of his digits enter your pussy without warning. Your eyes shut of pleasure and your moans gets unsteady because of the depth and velocity of his fingering. He is shaking your whole body through your poor cunt. You are still very sensitive from your first orgasm and Jungkook is screwing deep and roughly. You can only grab your sheets and your toes curl up when Jungkook curves his fingers to pump on your g-spot.
He goes so harshly on you that you can't think anymore. You are not even aware of your screams and cum in a record time, squirting all over your boyfriend — for his greatest pleasure. You even splash your sheets and his abs.
"You are so dirty" He purrs in your ear but he is the only driving you crazy when he spreads the juices of his soaked hand on his member as he is jerking himself off
You can't believe you have cummed this hard in such a little time. It's not the first time Jungkook makes you squirt but usually it takes way more time and only appears at the end of your fuck when you have already reached your high a couple of times.
"They should see how fucked up you get when you're with me" He cockily says, referring to your viewers "You are such a little slut for me. Do you even cum with other men?"
His question is backed up with a pinch on your nipple.
"You're the only one" You reply in a whine
Your answer satisfies your boyfriend and he bends over to kiss you, way tender now. He takes place between your legs and the mess you've done allows him to enter you in a swift motion, all the way until his balls are pressed against your ass. Your moan is longer as the pleasure is traveling through your entire body. Your walls are so stretched that you wonder how you are not split in half already.
"I should fuck you on live to make this motherfucker shut his fucking mouth" He growls in your ear as he gives you the first dick strokes — deep and slow to enhance the sensuality
"You should, baby" You whisper and your walls clench around his fat cock because the idea is really arousing
As he starts thrusting into you with a quicker pace, you manage to reach his throat and suck hickeys. Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours with one of his hands while the other one roughly cups your face to give you a messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. The way Jungkook is rolling his hips allows him to reach all the right spots inside you. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you groan his name — groan that is immediately swallowed by his mouth. Your arousal is coating his length but you have so much more that it's rolling down his balls.
He fucks you with so much force that your bed cracks but it's a problem for later. You can't think about anything else than him when he kisses the thin skin of your throat, biting it from time to time. Your legs wrap around his tiny waist to keep him close and prevent him from stopping, even through he is not planning to.
Jungkook slightly lifts up so he can see your tits bouncing in rhythm. It's so hot that he fuck you rougher just to enhance the movement and pinch a hard nipple with his fingertips. He is fucking so rawly that sweat is coving his body and is making his black strands of hair stick to his forehead. Sounds of your clapping skins fill your bedroom, creating a beautiful music for his ears, especially with your whined moans. A fun idea lightens up in his head and he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you perfectly. Your poor cunt throbs around him. Why does he have to be so fucking good? He knows you so well.
"Scream how much you love when I fuck you" He teases you but tightens the grip around your neck
It gets hard to breathe, yet along to fulfill his demand.
"Hm? Tell me, baby. I can't hear you" He smirks "Be a good girl and let everyone knows how good I fuck you"
You want to say it desperately but you can't. Only chocked moans escape your lips. But all of a sudden, Jungkook takes off his hand and gives you a particularly rough dick stroke. The oxygen rushing to your brain and the air being kicked out of your lungs make you so high on sex.
"I love it!" You scream "No one can fuck me better"
"Who's whore are you?" He cockily asks
"Yours!" You moan
"Louder" He growls, his hand settling back on your throat but not tightening too much
"I'm your whore!" You whine as you feel your walls clenching around his cock
"Good" He gives you a harsh pounding "Fucking" Another one "Girl" And another one
You love it so much that your smaller hand lands on his to urge him to squeeze your throat. Your boyfriend does it but suddenly pulls off of your throbbing dripping cunt.
"Kook!" You whine but he shhhes you and rolls his fingers hard and fast around your clit
It's so sudden and intense that your breathe gets cut and that you giggle to escape the unbearable pleasure. However, the fist around your neck prevents you from running away from his ministrations. You're wet, soaked even, and Jungkook's fingers can roll smoothly on your bud. It doesn't stop your boyfriend from spitting on it, just to make your cunt messier. Your pussy is clenching around nothing but you're close again. You have asked Jungkook to fuck you rough, and he is giving what you wanted.
His frenetic pace on your clit plays with the border of pain and you can't hold on anymore. You squirm and your body is experiencing spasms from another powerful orgasm. You grab his forearm to stop his abuse on your poor throbbing clit when the overstimulation becomes too much to handle.
"Fuck, baby" Jungkook whispers is awe, amazed by how beautiful you are when you reach cloud nine
You are panting and your brain feels like wax. You need time to recover from the intensity of the three past orgasms. You close your eyes and rest your head on a fluffy pillow.
"I'm not done with you, baby" Jungkook murmurs as he caresses your skin with the tip of his fingers, drawing goosebumps all over your body
"I need a minute" You confess as you are trying to steady your breathing "You fuck me too good"
Your boyfriend chuckles and lands a multitude of pecks on your cheek, your throat, your shoulder, your boobs and pretty much everywhere. However, you are way too much into the bliss of your post-orgasmic state to notice how your boyfriend's pierced lips are traveling South. It's only when his mouth kisses your oversensitive clit that you jolt and squeak.
His vicious tongue pokes out and slyly licks the arousal leaking from your pussy. He looks like a cat licking its milk but you know he is as lethal as a lion. You throw a — what you want to be — death stare but Jungkook smirks because, deep into your eyes, he sees your lust. You can't deny that the sight of Jungkook between your legs is sinful and perfect. But shivers run through your body when his tongue takes another lap of your ruined cunt.
"I need to clean up my little dirty girl" He purrs and swallows a little bit more of your juices "Taste so sweet, baby"
"Fuck" You moan and you instinctively open your legs a little bit wider
Thankfully, Jungkook goes gentle on you — otherwise, you are not sure you would survive.
"You don't know how much I love eating your little juicy pussy" He teases you and an airy laugh escapes your lips
"I do know, you tell me every time you do it" You explain, tenderness noticeable in your voice
Jungkook and you exchange a knowing glance, right before he buries his handsome face in your folds.
"Those guys can comment all they want" He growls against your dripping pussy, slightly nodding his head toward your set up "They'll never know how you taste"
The possessiveness in his raspy voice is arousing. You love when your boyfriend claims you over other men. He is not the jealous kind — he cannot be when you're a cam girl — but he also manages to remind you that you are his in the most perfect way: fucking.
You cup his chin with your hand to force Jungkook to look at you. Seriousness paints your face when you tell him:
"I don't want anyone else than you. Do you understand?"
Jungkook nods and happiness fills up his chest, spurring him to capture your lips — the upper ones this time. You both smile in the kiss but your sneaky hand finds its way to Jungkook's cock. You jerk him off slowly, appreciating his velvety — yet sticky with your juices — skin.
"Get on your knees" He commands against your swollen lips
You get on all fours and arch your back like you know Jungkook loves it and swing your ass from side to side. Your boyfriend gets to see how wet you still are despite his little cleaning. He lands a rough slap on your ass and squeeze your cheeks.
He then wraps his hand at the base of his hard and thick cock and guides it to your entrance. He teases a little, hooking his tip in your hole just to poke it out. He does it a couple of times, hoaxing a begging from you to finally fill you up.
You gasp when he enters you all the way. You can feel him so deep when he fucks you from behind. It's like his fat cock is stretching you even better. Jungkook digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks and spreads them to fully admire how your little cunt takes his dick, coated it with your arousal at the same time.
"Fuck, baby..." He hisses in bliss
His dick strokes are not gentle, making you jolt at each single one of them. You burry your face in your sheets to mitigate as well as you can your loud moans. Drool is leaking from your open mouth and you realize that your boyfriend is fucking you dumb. The thought is so pleasant that you clench around him.
"You pussy is so tight" He growls and he accompanies his words with a spank on your already red and bruised ass
Jungkook goes further in sins when he lifts up his thumb to his mouth to coat it with spit and smudges it on your pucker hole. You gasp and feel a wave of arousal when he pushes his digit into it. Fuck, it's so hot... The intrusion is so fucking good, making your pussy even wetter — it's now just a big pool of your juices. Your walls clench sporadically around him, notifying him how much you love it. It's no secret anyway, Jungkook has already fucked your ass in the past.
You love hearing how his sweaty skin is clapping against yours, and you love feeling your ass getting slapped by his lap at each pounding. Your boyfriend has to hold you tight to prevent you from falling on your bed. Your arousal creates some sticky threads connecting your two bodies, disappearing when he bottoms up and drawing new ones when he pulls off to the tip. Jungkook curses when he looks at it. It's fucking hot...
"You make me do all the work, you little slut" He complains
He halts his movements. You know what he wants but you also know that his order is arousing so you wait for it.
"Come on, fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are" He whispers lowly but his cockiness pierces in his voice "Show me how much you want it"
Jungkook feels your walls clenching and it paints a smirk on his lips. He watches you pushing your ass back to swallow his dick and then moving forward to the tip, just to push back again. Your pace is rough and you make sure to harshly hit his pelvis when you take his member deep into you. You look like a maniac, empaling yourself on his thick cock, but you can't think about it because you love it too much. Your cunt is throbbing from the past orgasms and is sensitive from all the poundings and yet, you want more.
Your boyfriend knows you way too well. He sneaks his inked hand in your hair and harshly tugs on it, forcing you to lift up your upper body and rest your back against his brawny chest. Your scalp hurts in the most delicious way and your tits bounce when Jungkook takes control of the thrustings. You look up and smirk when you notice your set up in front on you. This insane, animalistic and perfect fuck all began because of this... You should thank your fans because Jungkook has never fucked you this good.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck and sucks more hickeys on your already redden and purple skin. The hand that was in your hair travels down to wrap your throat while the other one, sly, reaches your clit. You gasp when Jungkook starts circle motions on your bud.
"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!" You say in a breathe when you feel your cunt clenching
Despite the tightening of your walls, you are so aroused that your juices are dripping down in your inner thighs, making a mess of Jungkook's cock too.
"You are such a good fucking whore for me" He whispers in your ear, biting your lobe too
Your hands try to handle on his strong forearm as your sloppy pussy gets ruined by your boyfriend's poundings and his raw pace. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your mouth falls open, your cunt throbs and your breathe gets cut off as his expert fingers on your clit drive you closer to the edge. You are so close, you know it and Jungkook knows it too. That's why he fucks you even rougher, earning some whines from you, and bites your neck, marking you in all the possible ways.
You almost passed out when you cum as white dots paints your vision.
"Baby!" You moan, scream or whisper — you can't know
Thankfully, Jungkook firmly holds you against him, otherwise you would be falling miserably on your bed since your forces abandon you at the same time the wave of pleasure washes over you. Your walls throb and your lower stomach contracts as you squirt again, ruining your silk pink sheets and Jungkook's cock. Your whole body is shaken by spasms due to the power of your orgasm. Why does you boyfriend love so much pushing your limits? Because he knows that you love it just as much.
"Such a dirty girl" He purrs in your ear but you barely register it since you are still in the fog "Look at the mess you have made"
To accentuate his words, he lifts up the hand that was on your clit at the level of your face and shakes it. Drops of your cumming fly all around.
"Rain, rain, rain" He laughs lowly, not thrusting anymore but keeping his hard cock deep inside you "You can't fake it"
You want to reply something, like that you would never do it and that Jungkook really does fuck you good, but you have cotton mouth.
"Look at how fucked up you are!" He mocks you "And this motherfucker thinks he can fuck you better?" His low laugh is full of cockiness but it's the truth
His wet fingers caress your lips and you part them out of instinct. Jungkook takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his digits and watches in awe how well you suck on them. You hum at your taste and appreciate being able to drink something.
"My sweet good girl" He says gentler, kissing your cheek
"Baby, I don't know if I can take it anymore" You confess, turning your head to look at his handsome face
You can spot the affection in his doe eyes.
"Just one last time and I'm gonna fill your little pussy up. I promise"
His words are raw but his tone is soft, just like the kiss he settles on your lips. You nod and his big palm comes up to caress your cheek. It soothes you and allows you a moment of peace before the big finale.
Jungkook circles your frame with his strong arms and falls on his back with you. The surprise makes you squeak and you could laugh if his cock buried in your cunt wasn't making you moan instead.
You dig your feet in the mattress on both sides of his thighs, takes supported on his pecs with your hands and start some ups and downs on his length. His tip is perfectly hitting your g-spot and if Jungkook wasn't helping you to settle a quick pace with his hands on your hips, you know that your legs would crash down because of the pleasure.
It feels so good to have him this deep inside you. Your tits bounce and your moans get lost in your bedroom. Your boyfriend turns his head to the side to get a peak at you fucking yourself on his fat cock in the mirror.
"Fuck, baby, you're so hot" He praises you and you thank him with a squeeze of your cunt
His thumbs caress your skin at the same time. The movement is slight but you manage to feel it. It does some weird tricks in your chest and you quicken your pace. The only problem is that the marathon of orgasms Jungkook's put you through seriously decreases your stamina. It's getting very hard for you to jump on his cock, even though you absolute love the way he is filling you.
"Baby..." You whisper in a breathe "Need you..."
You don't have to finish your sentence because Jungkook understands.
"I got you" He reassures you
He makes you rest your back on his chest, wraps arms under the back of knees to get a full access to your cunt — making you tighter in the process as your thighs are pressed against each other — and firmly plants his feet on your bed. His poundings are so harsh that your head rolls back and no sounds escape your open mouth. You almost faint because of the pleasure provided by his dick strokes in your tight and swollen cunt.
"Fuuuuck" You whine
Tears are gathering at the corners of your eyes. Jungkook is fucking you too good for your own sanity. The way his thrustings are accompanied by loud skin clapping sounds is fucking arousing. Your juices are dripping down your ass to create a mess on your boyfriend's balls.
"Oh my god!" You moan when rough slap hits the side of your ass
Your toes curl and your brain gets foggy: you know you are close. There have been too many orgasms for you to count and you have now no strength to delay them. Jungkook has turned into a fuck-machine, leaving no rest for your poor pussy. You are amazed by his stamina.
"Are you going to tell them who fucks you good?" He purrs
"You fuck me good! So fucking good, baby" You exclaim in a state of euphoria
Your voice is even shaking because of his poundings — that's how much he is ruining you. You sob at his raw dick strokes, you are way more sensitive than usual.
"I'm gonna fuck you on live and everyone will know who's little slut you are. Isn't it that right, baby? Do you want me to ruin you in front of the whole Internet?" He teases you
"Oh, fuck yes!"
"Good girl" He praises, quickly pecking your shoulder
"Kook, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."
You can't finish your sentence that you explode once again. Only this time, Jungkook enhances his pace which makes you squirt for some long seconds and you wonder if you will ever gonna stop.
"Don't stop!" You urge him while you are sobbing
Your boyfriend swipes your pussy at a rapid pace with his hand to extend your cumming and to make a bigger mess with your juices splashing everywhere. You can't hold back your scream of pleasure. You have never cummed so hard and God knows that you know what you are talking about.
"Champagne confetti" Jungkook laughs when the waterfall ends
"Please, cum" You beg him
The tiredness is noticeable in your voice. You can't take it anymore and his poundings are painful despite the remaining pleasure.
"I'm close, baby, just hold on a little bit more"
Jungkook frees your legs and you rest your feet on his strong thighs helping him to ruin you. His inked hand cups your face and turn it to his. He captures your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your moans. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't know what is reality anymore. The only thing you are sure about is him.
"Fill me up" You whisper against his pierced lips
You can only feel him nod and, with a last powerful dick stroke, he buries his cock deep inside you and releases his seeds inside you. You sigh in content and Jungkook whispers some soothing compliments. He hugs you tight but you are too tired to do anything.
Your sheets, just like your cunt, are ruined and soaked with your juices. You roll on your side and Jungkook's cock pulling off your pussy causes his white cum to leak. You don't really care anyway.
"Are you okay? Was I too much?" Jungkook worries as he witnesses your exhausted state
"It was good, baby" You reassure him but keep your eyes closed
You sneak against him and hug him as tight as you can with a weak body. You hear his beating heart in his chest as you rest your head on it. You hum, so happy to have him in your life. Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head.
"I have to tell you something" You murmur "Promise you won't be mad"
"I promise"
"Before I called you, I turned on a live... So everyone did see us fucking" You confess, hoping that Jungkook won't feel betrayed or anything
"I know. I saw the red light of your camera"
You lift up your head and witness some playfulness in his eyes. You offer him a bright smile and kiss him passionately. Fuck, you are so lucky to have Jungkook. His hands land on your bruised ass. You scoot over and turn to the camera. You look fucked up — and you are indeed. A smirk paints your lips and you look straight into the camera lens.
"No one can fuck me better than him" You announce and end up the live 
2K notes · View notes
arieslost · 1 month
Note
you have pushed me to ask so here I go
I present my idea of motorcyclist!oscar and his gf who is afraid of motorcycles. He convinces her to try it onc3 and BOOM hands around him holding on the dear life.
I want to hold on to him
I can't stop thinking about that tiktok
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here's a ss I took from the tiktok edit
what a yummy man
the entire time i wrote this i kept coming back to look at this picture because oh my goodness gracious. i hope this lives up to ur expectations <33 definitely wanna write more biker!osc after this
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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hold on tight | op81
“Just one time?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No way.”
“Do you even love me at all?” Oscar asks dramatically, jutting his lower lip out for extra effect. 
“That’s not going to work on me, Piastri.” You shake your head vehemently. “I refuse to get on that death machine. It’s bad enough that you ride it all the time.”
“Come onnnn,” he whines, tugging you up off of the bed and into his arms. 
The two of you look like polar opposites— him with his leather jacket and riding gloves still on, smelling faintly of exhaust, and you in plaid pajama pants and one of his worn out t-shirts. You suppose that’s what makes your relationship work so well, opposites attract and whatever. All relationships take compromise though, and this is one “compromise” that, thus far, you’ve refused to make. 
In your eyes, it’s not a compromise. But Oscar has been asking you to be his “backpack” practically since the two of you met. 
“What do I have to do to convince you?” He’s asking, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 
“Hmm, nothing.” You smile up at him, and it fades just as fast when you see the excitement in his eyes. “Because it’s never going to happen. I like being alive, thank you very much.”
“Baby, you know you’ll be safe with me. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” He says sincerely, his pleading tone now gone. “I’ve been riding my entire life. I did all the crashing before I got my license. Haven’t crashed since.”
“Yeah, that makes me feel better.” You mutter, hiding your face in his chest so he can’t see your resolve slowly starting to crumble. 
“It would be so fun,” he continues, arms tightening around your frame as he starts to sway you both side to side a little. “All you’d have to do is hold on to me. I’ll do all the work. You trust me, don’t you?” 
“With all things except the death machine,” you say, voice muffled by the material of his jacket. 
“I love you, but I’m gonna need you to stop calling her ‘the death machine,’ honey.”
“Her?” You look up at him, affronted. “I’m definitely not doing it now. Wouldn’t want to get between you and the other woman in your life.” 
Oscar laughs. His laugh has always been more of a giggle around you, which is such a contrast to his outward appearance that it never fails to make you melt. 
“You’re the only woman for me, which is why you’re the only woman I’ve ever asked to be my backpack.” He says. 
“Don’t try to butter me up with the whole backpack thing again.” You roll your eyes and try to pull away from him, but he somehow manages to twirl you and bring you right back into him. 
“It’s not me buttering you up, I’m just telling the truth. Come on, baby.” he leans in and gives you a long kiss that leaves your head spinning a little. “One time. And if you don’t like it, I promise I won’t ask again.” 
You let out a frustrated groan, because he has to know that he’s won at this point. That kiss was nothing but tactical. “Fine. Fine. But you can’t just kiss me like that every time you want something from me, it’s unfair.” 
“Yes, yes!” He squeezes you into him, kissing the top of your head over and over. “You won’t regret this.”
“I already am a little bit.” You grumble. 
That’s how you find yourself standing on the sidewalk with Oscar in front of you adjusting a helmet on your head. 
“This is making me claustrophobic,” you complain as he flips the visor up so he can see your face. 
“I’m just making sure you’re safe, baby.” When you furrow your eyebrows, he sighs and drops his hands to his sides. “If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to, okay?”
This makes you relent a little bit. “Osc, I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I don’t like motorcycles, like, at all.” You smile as best you can with the helmet on, hoping it goes to your eyes so he can see it. “I want to do this. You just… you really have to help me.” 
He nods, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. “Of course, honey. C’mon.”
He takes your hand and leads you over to his motorcycle. While you’re terrified just looking at it, you can’t deny that it’s absolutely beautiful. Streamlined and sleek, like he literally just bought it, even though you know he’d already had it for a year when you first met him. 
He looks almost the same as he did when you first met— all black getup, signature leather jacket, riding gloves, and of course, his strangely colorful helmet that doesn’t match the rest of him. His hair was long when you met him, and you still remember being absolutely starstruck when you saw his face for the first time. It had felt like everything went into slow motion when he took his helmet off, pushed his hair back, and instantly made eye contact with you from where you were just exiting the bookstore. 
Needless to say, you were done for. And now here you are, a year later, letting him help you onto the death machine. 
He never said you had to stop calling it (sorry, her) that if you were thinking it to yourself. 
“You okay? Comfy?” Oscar asks, reaching to adjust your helmet one more time. 
“Yup. Mhmm. Totally.” You nod, not even trying to sound convincing considering your heart is in your throat and he hasn’t even started the engine yet. 
“Great,” he kisses the top of your helmet and smiles at you cutely before climbing onto the bike so he’s seated in front of you. “Just hold on tight, okay baby? Like this.” 
He reaches behind him, grabbing your hands that had been anxiously scratching at the material of your jeans and pulling you forward so your arms are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t have to say anything else– you’re quick to tighten your hold around him, fingers clutching at the material of his open jacket. You immediately feel your anxieties begin to dissipate as soon as you’re holding onto him, and you shift your whole body forward on the seat so your front is pressed as close as it can be to his back. When he lets out a quiet grunt, you release your grip a little. 
“I’m sorry! Am I holding you too tight?” “No, no,” he huffs out a laugh, patting your thigh. “Do whatever you need to do. Just warn me if you’re planning to suffocate me at all.”
“Listen, Piastri–” you begin, and he cuts you off by twisting around to look at you.
“Okay, I get it, I’m sorry.” He’s giggling now, and you let go of him to smack his helmet. “I’m done, I promise. As long as you feel safe, honey.”
“Come on, let’s go before I chicken out.” You say, quickly reassuming your hold.
It’s times like these where you appreciate just how buff your boyfriend is. He has something of a sleeper build, so one quick glance at him wouldn’t really reveal much, but when you’re pressed up against him like this, you can feel the muscles in his back and shoulders and his abs through his shirt when your hand slips past his jacket. He’s warm and solid against you, and that in itself is comforting enough that you don’t go flying off the seat when he starts up the engine and you instantly feel your whole body start to vibrate from the force of it.
“I’ll check in with you, okay?” He says over the loud rumbling. “Hit me in the head or something and I’ll pull over. Sound good?” Having him to hold on to is nice, but your throat is still dry thinking about all the dastardly possibilities that could occur when the bike starts moving, so you have to swallow a couple times in order for him to hear you over the engine. “Yeah, sounds good.”
Your heart falls out of your ass and lands on the pavement when he pulls out onto the road, the engine roaring as he accelerates. 
“God, please spare me,” you say out loud, grateful that Oscar can’t hear you over the engine. 
As soon as he gets onto the freeway, that’s when you realize just how much fun you’ve been missing out on.
It’s never been a secret to you that Oscar loves going fast. There have been plenty of occasions where you’ll drive somewhere, do whatever it is you have planned, and then you’ll turn to him and ask if he wants to drive home just to give him some peace of mind knowing that the journey back will be cut down by a few minutes at least. Being in the car is fun enough, but being on the back of his motorcycle is different.
You thought you’d be more scared. You’re terrified, sure, but even though you can feel the wind whipping against your clothes and you’re flying past cars on either side of the freeway, you’re holding on to Oscar, and you could easily do that forever. You’re quickly warming up to the concept of being his backpack, and you can feel yourself relaxing your death grip around him. This is actually kind of fun. Okay, really fun. You actually can’t believe you were so adamantly refusing to do this this whole time. 
Every so often, he reaches back with one hand and rubs your thigh, or holds one of your hands that is now tucked comfortably into his jacket pocket. You thought you’d be freaking out about him taking a hand off the handlebars, but he exudes confidence on the bike, and he never wavers no matter what he’s doing with his hands. 
He doesn’t go very far; the whole ride lasts maybe 20 minutes, but it feels like half that with how quick the bike is. Your arms ache from all the muscles in them working the whole time, and when he helps you off the back of the bike your legs feel like jello.
“How was it?” He asks, helping you pull the bulky helmet off your head. 
Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it away for you before you can even lift your hands. He cups your cheeks, a small smile on his face as he admires you.
“We are definitely doing that again.” 
His smile grows, and he places a sweet, adoring kiss on your lips. “I knew I finally found my backpack.” 
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word count: 1,787
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: writing this has me thinking up a whole biker au for multiple drivers... thank you for this gold mine of a request <33
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings
965 notes · View notes
walpu · 2 months
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I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots
I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao
nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine
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characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.
Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.
I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.
He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.
Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.
And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.
Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.
He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.
Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.
So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.
Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.
If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.
"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.
He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.
In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.
And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.
If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.
Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.
A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.
I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.
May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.
Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.
Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.
Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.
Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.
Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.
Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.
Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.
Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.
Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.
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shadysadie · 1 year
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I love that Raine got to be part of the final battle.
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With as many people as Belos hurt, pretty much all the characters deserved to be there to help deliver the final blow (or final *stompstompstomp*) but short of doing a giant Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood style showdown in the middle of the castle (which would not suit this show like it did FMAB) there was just no way that everyone who deserved to see Belos destroyed was going to get that satisfaction. 
I really love that the one extra person that got to join the Owl Family for this was Raine. 
Because Raine has given absolutely everything to the revolution. Idle Scree has a fantastic video on the subject, but to sum it up, Raine went into the bard coven with the explicit goal of working their way up through the ranks and uncovering the truth behind Belos’ plans. It has taken them decades of espionage to get where they are. They cut themself off from all of their relationships, crossed moral boundaries, and even asked the woman they love to give up her life in order to take Belos down. 
So when Belos takes control of them they fight back.
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While Hunter’s possession is a lot more brutal, simply because Belos specifically wanted to make Hunter suffer as much as possible, while mocking Luz and friends, Raine’s struggle is almost harder to watch.
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They’re getting tossed around, their arms are getting dislocated at the very least, they’ve vomiting Belos goop, but they are still fighting with everything they have to regain control because they did not spend their life trying to take Belos down just to end up his play thing. 
Hunter had to crush his best friend with his own hand in order to break free of Belos, Raine is fighting with indignation and fury alone.
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And they keep fighting.
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Even without their weapon, as soon as they have enough control to get their fingers to their mouth, they cast Belos out. And after that, they could have given up. They were free. They must have been exhausted, but they are clever, probably the most clever person on the Boiling Isles, so they realize exactly what’s going to happen and they can not let that happen.
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The way they fall up the stairs here shows just how hurt and tired they are. Think of what their timeline has looked like from their perspective: the Day of Unity happened, they nearly died from the draining spell, they fought through excruciating pain to save Eda as what they thought was their final act, then the eclipse ends and they are still alive, but suddenly these evil stars are attacking them, then they spend months “sequestered in a darkness like onto death” only to be awoken and have their most hated enemy take over their body. 
And through all that THEY KEEP GOING.
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And again, this fight is brutal, they are basically suffocating in Belos’s flesh towards the end, and they still don’t give up.
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They shatter their weapon in one last ditch effort to stop Belos, but it doesn’t work.
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They lost. They were a second too late and now everything they fought for is for nothing. Belos made it to the heart. He can take control of the very Titan itself, and there is nothing Raine can do to stop him.
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But even then, they don’t give up. They keep whistling, even if it’s weak, even if it doesn’t do much, they whistle to keep themself alive, because they are going to keep fighting until their very last breath.
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So after all of that, the fact that they get to be one of the people who actively take Belos down…well, I think they say it best for themself…
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ioniiaa · 3 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 4)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Quick Notes:
This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)
Reader is an artist/painter.
Part 4:
From here on out, you saw Alastor almost every single night. You felt brighter and Alastor definitely felt a change in you too. He wouldn't pry, for as long as you were happy, he was happy too.
The nightly meetings occurred for a month or two before one night, you saw Alastor and Mimzy chat before he came over to see you. Mimzy had finally told him that the reason that you were at the bar every night was because you were staying with her for the time being until you could find a place to live.
Alastor couldn't deny his affection for you any longer after hearing about your situation. He knew what he had to do. He had to make you his.
With a confidence like no one has ever seen before, Alastor twirls you around to face him, away from the patron you were helping serve drinks to.
He pulls you close and whispers in your ear, "My dear (y/n), I must ask you to accompany me to my home tonight. There is something I must ask of you."
A rush of blush appears on your cheeks, a reaction that he often and easily elicits from you. You nod in confirmation, speechless, mind racing at what he could possibly want to ask you.
Sure enough, Mimzy witnesses this encounter and walks up to you two "Alrighty, alrighty, I think we've all seen enough! (Y/N), you're done for the night! Get out of here you two!"
Bewildered, you look at Alastor. He held his arm out to you to hold on to, "Shall we head home, my dear?" Without any hesitation, you link your arm through his as he escorts you through the dimly lit streets back to a small home on the outskirts of town. It was secluded, bordering a forest.
"We have arrived, welcome, to my humble abode dear (y/n)"
After a small tour of the house, the two of you sit down on the couch in his living room. You turn yourself towards him "Your home is so lovely, Alastor. But.. what did you want to ask me?"
A gentle smile and expression creeps up onto his face, "Ah yes, I was enjoying your company so much that I nearly forgot!"
He tilts his head slightly and leans in towards you as he asks, "(y/n), it would be my honor for you to call this your home as well."
Alastor stands up and paces around the living room while he talks, "When Mimzy informed me of your plight, I couldn't resist taking you home with me. For you see, I am quite fond of you my dear."
You shoot up from the couch and immediately hug Alastor, "Oh my stars, I would love nothing more than to live with you, Alastor! It is no secret I am very fond of you as well."
Taken aback by the sudden contact of the hug, it takes him a second to adjust before reciprocating the hug, "My dearest love, I will do everything to make you happy."
From this point forward, you spend many happy months together, painting many a painting out of love for him, helping assist his radio shows, and still occasionally heading into town to pay Mimzy a visit.
It was almost pure bliss. Until one fateful night many months later.
-> Part 5
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storiumemporium · 6 months
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Astarion As a Father
Fem!Tav/Reader
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I FINALLY GOT A NEW KEYBOARD WITH FULLY FUNCTIONING KEYS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I elected to write about something that's been giving me brainworms for ages, because I'd been talking about it with someone on here awhile ago and it just infested me. Astarion finding out you're pregnant and how he handles fatherhood. (Or, in this case, doesn't at first.) This isn't my best work but I blame it on the fact that I didn't intend for it to be THIS FUCKING LONG okay 😭
But without further ado, daddy Astarion:
Finding out:
When it comes to children, I think Astarion hasn't put much thought into it beyond 'me!? ABSOLUTELY NOT—'
He has no illusions about his state of mind and his faculties, you see. Astarion knows that he's fucked up, he knows that he's a problem, and he's only entirely too confident that any child unfortunately put under his care would likely end up just as damaged as he is, were they to miraculously make it to adulthood. He's just not equipped for it.
And, frankly, Astarion isn't even aware he can have children... That's just, not something he ever thought to question. He's undead, is he not? That should take care of the...fertility question.
Shouldn't it?
Truth be told, Cazador never told him of the possibilities because it was never meant to be a possibility. Astarion was too malnourished, his victims too short lived for anything to ever have come of it. He was supposed to die a sacrifice, not live to carry his own bloodline (hah) onward.
Were you to ever ask him about it, even jokingly over dinner one eve, he'd be very firm in the fact that it's a terrible idea and he'd be entirely unequipped. He would even go so far as to say he's the worst choice out of all of your past companions.
"Me? No. Absolutely not. I'm sure whatever little devil you managed to cook up would be the most charming child Baldur's Gate has ever seen... But even that magical explosive that fancied himself a God would be better suited to fatherhood, darling. I am built for luxury and adventure, nothing else." All bookended by typical Astarion preening.
So when the day comes and you inform him of the little life growing in your womb?
Nope. Not happening, not even a chance of happening.
The denial is strong with this one.
And when I say denial, I mean that Astarion well and truly blots out what you've said from his mind, as if it simply didn't happen at all. You never had the conversation, you never dropped the revelation, there is no child, he is not becoming a father.
It's not a lack of want— though he doesn't realize that yet— it's true, blinding terror. Before it was just a joke, just something for him to brush off with commentary about how terribly he'd do as a parent, better the uncle than anything else. But now it's a reality and to accept what you've said is to accept that he might well and truly destroy a child. But not just any, yours.
The traumas Astarion possesses heap onto his shoulders and slough off plentiful enough to make new oceans of it. Now, not only is he just beginning to regain his own autonomy, he's supposedly being given responsibility over a brand new life?
(It would only make sense for Astarion in retrospect, that the life you willingly sacrificed to nourish and nurture him would in turn allow him to grow a new life within you. The fool had just been too blind to consider it: The way, fresh off your blood, he could pull back from the delicate column of your throat and you would find his cheeks and ears and chest flushed with the loveliest shade of pink, eyes wide and soft and alive. The way his entire body would warm, going from corpse frigid to something just beneath normal. The way his once-still heart would slowly beat again.
He'd even asked you once- curled together on a familiar silken bed, foreheads touching and your hands clasped together between your chests- if you knew what it felt like to be so, so hungry that all you could even think about was about badly you wanted to eat? How food sounded so good that the desire became crossed and instead felt even more painful and nauseating? How it consumed your ability to make rational decisions, denied you the capacity to control your emotions?
He'd told you then, voice tender and timid and weak, that he'd felt like that every single day for two whole centuries, until the night you'd willingly laid down on that cot and put your life in his hands.
It was so simple really, of course you granted him the strength to create life. It was you.)
And of course it comes to a head before there is any chance at recovery. Your body begins to show the changes, you begin to swell, and Astarion only grows more avoidant and flighty. Because now he can't simply wipe the idea from his mind and continue on as if the child doesn't exist, the proof is there every single time he looks at you. He makes it very clear to you that he will not be returning to your side without a confrontation, a very potentially ugly one at that.
And ugly it is, explosive. Astarion hasn't truly had the time to recover from his life under Cazador, and all of those protective traits he grew remain sharp as ever, returning to the surface as if they'd never truly gone away to begin with. He sneers and hisses, tries his best to dig in and hurt you enough to stop poking his tender wounds. Enough to push you away so he can lick his wounds back open. He'll go so far as to accuse you of infidelity, though he regrets the words the moment they leave his lips, it's easier for him to imagine that you simply grew tired of him, that you were weary and longed for the daylight. That you wanted someone who could hold you beneath the sun, unlike him.
How you respond to this is entirely up to you, but just shy of throwing something truly despicable back into his face, such as Cazador, Astarion will apologize... eventually. If you remain stalwart and patient, if you have it in you to recognize that he doesn't mean his words, that he's barbing you with intent, Astarion will break down in that very same argument, his angry and accusatory rant will dissolve into an admission of deep insecurity and deeper terror.
But if you respond with anger? Justifiable, and Astarion knows that even in the moment as it's happening, but emotions rule him far more than he'd ever care to admit, and he will dig in and relish the reaction he's managed to draw from you. He will bristle and bite back until suspicion and bitterness fully claims his heart, and he aborts the conversation to hide in the shadows.
Astarion will wait until nightfall, until his freedom calls for him. The one thing that always manages to clear his head, even when you prove to be the cause of his muddying. It's a reminder, every time he steps into the cool and dark of Baldur's Gate, that Cazador is dead and he is a free man. That he can go where he chooses and when he chooses to, and not only that no one can stop him, but that you wouldn't even want to stop him.
And that truth is always what brings Astarion home.
Under the distant lonely stars and that cold moon, he has to remember that time and again you have let him. You have accepted him, you have not fought him on anything shy of a horrible mistake he wanted to make in a moment of weakness and hysteria. You have accepted all his deepest and ugliest wounds and kissed them like they were freckles to pour affection on. You fought Cazador for him, you defended him from your own friends. You even- at times- tested your own morals for him.
You wouldn't betray him, and Astarion knows he can't betray you.
Astarion would return to you late, curling into bed at your side, his eyes would not meet you, and his apology would come in the form of a simple confession. "I am... afraid. I am afraid."
Astarion wouldn't blame you if you don't forgive him immediately for his transgressions, he was cruel and you were vulnerable. But even then you'll find that your love doesn't abandon you again. He accepts- however frightened- that what you've said is true and is coming, and he must accept it. Mind you, it won't be perfect and it won't be romantic. Astarion doesn't know the intricacies of handling a pregnant woman, he's hardly tactful beyond his well honed and flirtatious lines. He genuinely loves you, but he's going to come pre-equipped as father material.
You need something? He'll get it with minimal complaint (but never none, you'd sooner get him to dye his hair black than cease complaining for the sake of it), he won't begrudge you your mood swings though he might be inclined to poke fun at you ever so often. And he will panic when you burst into tears for seemingly no reason, and no- time doesn't make him adjust, he will panic just as much the thousandth time as the first.
However, if it's any consolation. The moment your child enters the world, Astarion is a changed man.
When You Go Into Labor:
Astarion did the honors of informing all of your friends about your pregnancy, once he came to terms with it. And believe me when I say it is extravagant. The stationery and grandiose script that Astarion wields when informing everyone that you were expecting better fits a wedding invitation than it does... well. Very elegantly explaining that Astarion had accidentally knocked you up.
You can tell from the splotchy stains addressed to you from Wyll and Karlach that one of them had been crying when penning the message, Astarion has coin on Wyll, and you on Karlach. Lae'zel never responds to begin with and you know for a fact the Githyanki's response will likely come in the form of her simply showing up one of these days, unprompted. Jaheira personally and rather frequently visits as well, she becomes a sort of bastion as nerves take you over, confident and calm as she is. Halsin's "letter" arrives late, rather because alongside his letter is several little carved animals for the child's room, and mentions of a quilt he intends to bring along when next he visits. Shadowheart's letter, while congratulatory, contains an air of interrogation strung all about it, all aimed with pinpoint precision at the man responsible for your pregnancy and dripping with sarcasm.
Gale's letter is seven pages long, comes with a violet hued wax stamp, and multiple different inks in the most lavish hand he can manage. You daresay he's competing with Astarion. However, surprisingly, Gale's seems to be the most... helpful of them all? It wasn't your intent, you simply wanted your dear friend to join you in celebration, and yet Gale goes on to inform you that upon reading the letter he'd become a madman in pursuit of knowledge on pregnancy and giving birth. He admits that this wasn't a particularly fruitful endeavor, as he's rather confident that you're not a gnoll, troll, cambion, succubus, or any other variety of strange creature with strange metrics of procreation. Still, Gale directs the latter portion of his letter to Astarion quite pointedly, informing him of bookshops around Baldur's Gate where he might have more success.
Astarion scoffs, but you don't miss the way his fingers twitch and flex.
After the hilarity of this is resolved and you just begin to believe that peace might return to your soft little home in the city, the first of your companions begin to arrive.
This continues on for the next week or so, without you ever knowing that this had been planned- and without knowing that Astarion had been the one to plan it. It's a furthering of his apology, of his guilt over the way he'd treated you. Again, Astarion has no illusions of the kind of man he is, and the fact he's not nurturing in the sort of ways that you need- but he's not completely stupid and he knows you're scared. So... bring the cavalry, darling.
Eventually your entire home has become a crash pad for all of your dearest friends, your family, and you only grow suspicious of Astarion's hand in this chaos because he's surprisingly amicable to having his peace so thoroughly disturbed by 'everyone and their mother'. Truly, he manages to bite his tongue some of the time about them trampling his fine rugs and scratching the plates. He even seems... wistful about it. As nostalgic as you openly are at seeing all of these beloved people under one roof again.
Nights are filled with raucous laughter, clattering utensils, a table so thoroughly overcrowded that people are playfully shouldering each other out of the way for a chance to get at their own food. And Astarion stays faithful at your side, his hand perpetually clasped gently around yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Days are never spent alone, no matter what it is you need to do, someone (if not everyone) is following you along. And though Astarion feels his heart ache that he can't join you, he'll be glad to know you're safe.
Besides, your companions are likely all taking turns tormenting, testing, and relentlessly teasing him about what is to come. He has his own hands full. He's starting to regret being such a generous lover.
And then your water breaks in the dead of night.
Remember how I said Astarion was far from perfect? This would be one of those moments that it really shines.
Not that he's particularly terrible, no. He's not actively cruel toward you, and certainly not dismissive, it's somewhat the opposite. Halsin and Jaheira end up the ones helping you, the only two with some iota of understanding on what was happening and what to do with and for you. The others, less experienced in "mundane" medical situations will take up the second most important role.
Prevent Astarion from catastrophizing any more than he already has been.
Karlach has been the sole force capable of keeping Astarion away from the wine, typically bear hugging him away from your cellar while Wyll tries his best to talk your lover down from a total nervous breakdown. Of which he nearly has, several times. It's not even the sight of you, specifically. He's okay with being at your side and holding your hand, in trying his best to provide comforting words that aren't laced with sarcasm for once. But the sounds you make, that's what breaks him. Astarion isn't good at hearing you scream from the pain, he isn't good at the choked sobs or your heavy breaths. The way you sound like you're struggling against death. It makes him want to crawl out of his own skin, fight assailants that aren't there.
And for a few hours there, in the midst of your labors and your exhausted, pained little cries, Astarion isn't sure how he can love the child causing you this much suffering. It's not as if Astarion was an altruistic man on his best days, as if he were particularly reasonable when it came to you. You've both come to a mutual understanding that were something to happen to you, no morals would be involved in the things Astarion would do to rectify it.
And now, here you are, suffering. Astarion isn't supposed to do a thing about it? He's supposed to be- what, overjoyed by it? It infuriates him, he's truly prepared to have a grudge match with an infant.
Until, as the sun is starting to creep up on a brand new day, it's no longer your screams that meet the air, but another's entirely. Tiny but powerful, high pitched little squeals of fury and distress. And your laughter, disbelieving, soft, adoring already.
Astarion has a daughter.
I go with the HC that Astarion had eyes like honey once, and that his daughter takes after that, along with the delicate points of his ears mirrored in her own. She's small, so small, but healthy and already feisty, wiggling as best as her tiny body can whilst still too heavy for her to lift and move.
You're the first to hold her of course, and Astarion will be at his knees beside the two of you. The expression he wears is something you've seen maybe two or three other times in the entire time you've known him- moments when you know he expected everything to fall apart, moments where he couldn't believe that the world was so good.
It's then that you can breathe for the first time, and know that both of your darlings will be just fine.
Once he does hold her, he's not inclined to let her go. Even once you ask to have her back, he'll simply move you into his lap, so that he can hold you both. It's better that way anyhow, having both of his girls in his arms. And Astarion will repeat again and again how stunned he is, he just can't believe it. Cannot fathom any of it. I think he's the type to say that he's speechless and then spend the next five minutes doing nothing but talking. It's nervous rambling, but still, speechless is not the term I would use to describe him here.
Astarion With Your Baby:
Once your little darling is actually in your lives, you get to see how hilariously unorthodox Astarion is with children. Especially his own. Astarion doesn't baby-talk like you or the rest of your companions, he speaks in the same exact tones as he would a grown woman. In fact, for the first few days you're adjusting to a child in your life, you sometimes mistake Astarion as speaking with an unexpected guest, only to round the corner and find him lightheartedly chastising his own daughter for her poor nappy conduct as he wrinkles his nose and changes her diaper.
He's disgusted by that, by the way. Absolutely hates it, complains loudly about having to do it. But if you so much as try to stand to help he'll force you back down onto your chair or the couch, something something not useless something something already up, darling. It's as if Astarion is simply allergic to admitting that while it makes him nauseous, he wants to care for his daughter. He wants you to rest.
And yes, Astarion is the type of father that thinks all other children are hideous little fecal beasts and his daughter is the only gorgeous little angel in the entire world. Perfect, can do no wrong. He tells her as such too, in the same deadpan voice he always uses, wiggling and stretching her legs.
"You know, darling. You should count your blessings, you're the only child I've ever seen that doesn't look like some sort of hideous, deformed bean. I can't be surprised though, with as gorgeous as your parents are." And though he rolls his eyes, he's unable to contain the grin that shows his teeth when she coos and squeaks at the sound of his voice.
And yes. Astarion dresses up with his child.
The older she gets the more he does it, little matching outfits and ribbons. Nothing that she would choke on, were she to get her mitts on it. (You had to be the one to tell him no, at first. He did throw a little fit about it, just a small one).
But it's not all lighthearted, good or bad.
There are times where Astarion won't touch your daughter, won't be alone with her in the same room. He fears it, he'll eventually tell you. His... affliction came with it's dangers, always. But he's always trusted that you could defend yourself, and you're big enough that he can't just kill you between one blink and the next. The same can't be said of your darling girl. She's so small and so fragile that, were he to lose even the slightest grip of himself around her, it could cost her her life. No doubt it would traumatize her for life, regardless.
You watch it, too. The way it pinches his brows and makes him wipe his palms against his pants as if he were sweating. Nervous habits creeping up his throat and causing him to pace about like a caged animal. It's during these times that you have to bring your daughter to him. Gently place her in his arms and remind him that he's loved her from the moment he saw her. And where once he held trepidation and queasiness at the prospect of fatherhood, you can see him care so much about this little bundle that he looks sick from it. A vulnerability he can't mask.
And of course, there are times he nearly weeps for other reasons.
Like when she takes her first steps, and immediately tries to run for him.
And Astarion knows he should let her tumble, that it's good to let her fall and get back up again, but the moment her unsteady feet cause her to careen she's safe in his arms. Little kisses peppered against her giggly face. And he'll tuck away against her to try and get his bearings back, but she'll pat his cheeks and tug his ears- and you'll have to distract her with a toy while he hiccups and sniffles down his need to cry. He wasn't ready for her to grow so fast, gone is the tiny bundle that could fit perfectly in one arm, now she's walking. How long before she's dating? Gods, should he be preparing for betrothal requests!?
"I want to be mortal." He whispers to you, one night. She's tucked between your bodies, sound asleep and wiggling from time to time. This is one of the rare moments you and your love can speak to each other uninterrupted, in the tranquility of the dark hugging around you.
It's strange that he brings this up now, you'd spoken about it several times since the Elder Brain had been taken down... But in the past few years since your daughter had been born, all of that had fallen to the wayside. "What brings this to mind, Starling?"
Your hand comes to cup his throat, as you watch and feel him work as if he were swallowing a stone. "I don't want to outlive this."
It's hard to blink the tears from your eyes, understanding the implications.
Were he actually two hundred years old, Astarion wouldn't survive well past the existence of his sweet little family.
He'd been more melancholy the past few weeks, after realizing that your daughter was beginning to function on her own. She was walking, grabbing things, talking in rudimentary sentences. She was even beginning to call him pa.
He'd cried, at that.
"I'll forget," his voice draws you out from that brief reverie. The distress is palpable, but runs low like the tide before a storm. "I'll forget all of this. I don't want to know what I'll become, then."
And when you run your hands up into his hair, to scratch lovingly along his scalp, he doesn't hide the shiver or the way his face presses against your palm, cold and smooth on your skin.
"We'll find a way, Astarion. I haven't given up yet... We just- she's too young."
It's both a strain and a relief, to know that. To be reminded that your daughter is still so small, that he won't be losing her- or you- any time soon. There's still time.
Astarion With Your Teen:
Arguably this is the best time between your daughter and him. It's simultaneously a surprise and yet- not at all? He's more like her confidante and best friend than strictly a father. He isn't one for harsh curfews and strict ways of dress- rather, he's the one she comes to when she's made some sort of mistake. Or when she's angry about something.
In general, Astarion withholds judgement of her, for better or worse. The unintended consequence is that you might become more of her enemy than Astarion, because he's less inclined to punish for questionable behaviors.
It's not that he's afraid of angering her or dealing with push back- rather that Astarion's frame of reference for what constitutes a mistake is ah... rather broken. Even in the beginnings of your relationship with Astarion, the mistakes that would anger him constituted dropping an entire building on his head or... risking being turned into a Mindflayer to help some old lady find her cat.
Not feeling up cute boys in alleyways.
As a result you'll likely need to have a few conversations with him about not being so lenient on her, because she needs to have structure in how to behave. Stealing things is in fact, not okay! And Astarion will listen, but he's always going to be a bit more of a friend than anything else.
A total gossip with her, too. You'll catch them huddled around the dinner table at night, both with a glass of wine (this was an argument that Astarion ended up winning, she's allowed one glass a week, but that's all!) in hand shittalking a storm together. Astarion has become the Baldur's Gate equivalent of a PTA mom, he shows up as stylishly as he can and beefs with the parents of whichever children have upset his daughter the most. And then when they get home they just toss it back and forth together.
But I want to stress, just because he doesn't punish her doesn't mean he isn't protective of her. Astarion is more protective than you are.
Once she begins dating you'll find yourself home alone semi-frequently, because Astarion will play the supportive, loving father part when she leaves- and immediately follow her out into the dark. He's had centuries to know what dangers lurk around every corner, and foggy memories of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time before his nightmare began. He won't allow that to happen with his girl.
And it's funny, because Astarion will talk mad shit to himself while he does it. Logically he knows that she's with some teenage boy or girl, but it doesn't stop the petty, emotional side of him from rolling his eyes and sneering at the cheap one-liners and the dumb tactics that this would-be charmer utilizes. Really, taking her into dark alleys to get her to tuck into you? Going to a totally secret spot that Astarion has known about for at least a hundred and sixty years? Get real, kid.
And you have to try valiantly not to laugh when he comes home, huffing and puffing about it. Because you will hear every single petty thought he had the entire time, and you will know that he looks like a petulant child. It's very cute.
All in all, I think Astarion is a reckless, chaotic, petty father. And one that loves his child so, so much. To the point of ruin, to the point where suddenly staying in one place doesn't seem so bad, just so she can have friends. Helping people isn't the worst, just so she can know there are heroes in the world. Suddenly he's learning to bandage scrapes and kiss bruises, and having tears and snot on his clothes mean nothing compared to the grief of the one shedding them. He loves her in ways he didn't anticipate he ever could. Enough to know all of her ticks and secrets, to know when she's lying through her teeth and when she's being devastatingly obvious.
Learning to cook even when he can't eat, listening to her spin a story with a straight face and then- as she's stepping out the door- telling her to be careful with that boy and listening to her groan loudly as the door slams shut, a mischievous smile on his face.
Holding you and dancing you around, cradling you close with all the tenderness he has in the whole of his body and soul. Kissing you, calling you the mother of his child, thanking you for giving him something he didn't even know he'd wanted. A family.
Small and odd, but his.
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Your stories have definitely scratched that Astarion itch that I've had since I started the game!
One thing that's diffently not sat right with me at the end of the game, is how tav and the gang don't run after astarion after he loses his immunity to the sun. I would imagine that if the player character was romantically involved with the guy they would atleast try to shield or comfort the poor guy. A short drabble on that would be awesome!
That's so sad, I heard that's what happens 😭😭 I'm in act 3 and haven't had to see it for myself yet so yes, let's do some preemptive therapy there! And just warning since I haven't beaten the game yet I'm sure this will be inaccurate as fuck, but also with spoilers somehow ~
~
It was an exhilarating feeling, to win against all odds. One that Astarion had never been confident he would experience. It felt good, final. The official beginning of his new free life, even if it was bittersweet.
This was the bitter part, the end of his illithid protection. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and the burn was already starting. He was being an idiot, standing there with the rest of you like he belonged, waiting for the last possible second before he had to scuttle down in the darkness. But he wanted to see this out. Hadn't he earned that right?
According to the laws of reality, no. No he hadn't, because you had barely opened your mouth before the pain started to overwhelm him. The others would be able to hear it, the sickening sound of his skin crackling.
He was out of time. But before he could make a break for it, you happened. Astarion had been a little preoccupied with his impending doom to pay close attention to what you had been mumbling. But then sudden blackness was blanketing above your heads, opaque enough to make it as dark as night.
Astarion's eyes widened as the pain subsided, surprised beyond belief.
You were looking at him with concern in your eyes, gesturing to the think cloud of darkness above your head, "Will this be dark enough? Can it still get through?"
Astarion stared at you, momentarily confused on why you would do something like that. Before he remembered, oh. Yes. The extended care for his well-being was probably included in the whole love thing. Of course. Obviously.
That was definitely going to take some getting used to.
But the reasoning didn't stop an idiotic smile from blooming on his face.
You grinned back at him, somehow still managing to read his mind even without the tadpoles, "Did you really think I would forget about you?"
He had, but through no fault of your own. One of these days he was going to actually remember that he was worth the effort to keep alive.
"Thank you darling," Astarion said, ignoring the quested as he waltzed up to you. He grabbed your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss, "Just what would I do without you?"
"Speaking of," You turned to the Emperor, a question in your eyes as you vaguely waved upward, "Is there anything we can do about this particular problem?"
"The astral tadpole is still-"
"I'll pass on that, thank you very much," Astarion interrupted, cringing at the very thought of willingly letting another worm into his brain, "But I appreciate the thought."
There were worse things than living his life in darkness. And Astarion was counting becoming a mind flayer in the top three.
He watched, participated even in everyone's final goodbyes, always eyeing you at of the corner of his eye. It's not that he thought you would leave after you both declared your eternal love for each other, but... the two of you hadn't exactly talked about the specifics of the future either.
But that didn't stop you from leaving together. Astarion hadn't expected you to keep the dark cloud above his head as you walked the streets, startling nearly every passerby. But hells, the heroes of Baldur's gate had earned the right to a little strangeness.
You both had decided on going to the nearest, most windowless inn that you could find. Astarion wanted nothing more than to scrub the brain viscera from his skin and sleep for three days. Preferably with you in his arms.
But before all that... he had to know something.
The question was out of him as soon as you both were behind closed doors, "So what happens next to the great hero of Baldur's Gate? I'm sure you have something in mind."
He was just praying those future plans still involved him.
You blinked at him, head cocked like he was asking a silly question, "We go and find you a cure so you can walk in the sun again of course. What else would we do?"
That took Astarion aback, "I-Do you think that's really possible?"
"Well," You started, counting off on your fingers, "We know that illithid powers can do it. As well as devil contacts and ritualistic demon sacrifices. If that's all possible then that means there has to be something else on the other end of the spectrum, right?"
Astarion didn't exactly share your blind confidence. But you did have a point. The two of you had managed so many impossible feats in such a short amount of time. What was one more?
"I suppose there's a chance," Astarion said, hope fluttering in his chest with every word, "And if there is a chance no matter how small, I'm going to take it. But..."
He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know, "Are you sure this is what you want? I would... understand if you wanted to go your own way."
In all honesty, Astarion would not understand. He'd be absolutely furious. Especially after everything you'd been through. This was more of a confirmation for his waning self-confidence than anything else, versus a sincere to desire to let you go your own way. He had no intention of letting you go, not if he could help it.
But his near certainty in your feelings was the only thing that gave him the confidence to ask the question in the first place. And you did not disappoint.
"No, this is what I want," You insisted, reaching out to take his hand in yours, "You're what I want."
That was exactly what Astarion needed to hear. He used your joined hands to tug you closer, face to face.
"Good, because as selfless as I am, I really did not want to let you go," Astarion smiled, leaning in to lightly press a kiss to your lips, "I hope you realize that my love has made me a tad bit obsessed with you my dear."
"I'm sure it's no worse than me," You sighed, resting your forehead against his own, "You've really ruined me for anyone else haven't you?"
Astarion grinned, leaning in for another kiss. He had every intention of making it stay that way, for as long as you would have him.
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hellenhighwater · 3 months
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Hi Hell, I wanted to get your thoughts on something. My friend who has been vegetarian for close to 30 years is thinking about becoming vegan. His main reason is that the pain and suffering of an animal in the large majority of the animal product industry is not worth the enjoyment he gets from cheese, milk, etc. He hypothesizes that most people are not vegan due to lack of education about the industry’s methods, and because eating meat is so normalized. I mostly agree, but something about what he’s saying makes me feel bad. Maybe because I don’t see myself ever becoming vegan, due to how much I love certain foods, but I like to think of myself as an empathetic and moral person. So I think I just feel quite selfish.
He is a very analytical and logical thinker, and says he wants to find more anti-vegan arguments before deciding for sure, but can’t seem to find many. What do you (and your followers) think? I was thinking you aren’t vegan, but I don’t actually know.
This is very much not my lane, but if you want my two cents then for me it comes down to a few things.
One: there is a basic mass of food that any human needs to consume in order to stay alive. That can be plants, it can be animals, it can be animal byproducts. For the a significant proportion of commercially produced food, there is a negative impact. It's hard to quantify; in some cases it is certainly direct, quality of life issues for animals. In other cases it's more broad environmental impact from commercial farming, or quality of life for the human laborers involved in harvesting etc. It's hard to come up with any objective measurement for harm when comparing individual animal suffering vs human quality of life vs large scale environmental issues. There's plenty of information out there on some of the vegan diet staples and how increases in farming things like quinoa have enormously detrimental effects on their native communities, if that's something your friend is not already aware.
Two: There is a degree of this that is just...unavoidable. Things eating other things is the way living creatures survive, and on a systematic level there's not a ton we individually can do to change things--and on a practical level, there's only so much you can afford to spend on food, and organic, cruelty free stuff is more expensive. There is a level of privilege in being able to choose to spend your money in that way that is not always an option for everyone.
I'm not vegan. I'm not vegetarian. I care deeply about animals, and I'm aware of what commercial husbandry looks like--it's pretty terrible. I still eat meat. I try to do so as ethically as I reasonably can.
I don't have an issue with eating other animals. It's a part of nature. To me, I see the obligation more to do our best to try to get meat (or byproducts) that have been raised as well as we can manage. Free range eggs are pretty easy to come by, if you live in the country. Same with locally made cheeses and butters, even farm fresh milk--some places have self-serve milking that allows cows to roam in pastures and then be milked at will. Price and availability will vary by where you are, but it's more and more common; as more and more people start to care about how the people and animals involved in making our food are treated, better options become more available.
It also should be noted that the animals involved in farming are almost universally completely domesticated. There's no alternative for these animals and their progeny except for life in human care. These breeds require human aid for their own health and safety, because we have been breeding them for (in many cases) thousands of years to rely on us and to develop traits that will not aid them in the wild. If everyone decided, tomorrow, to become vegan, then these animals would need to remain in human care for however many thousands of generations it would take to breed them back to the ability to survive without us, or we would have to sterilize them en mass and terminate these breeds through lack of reproduction. It is not an option to just release these farm animals into the wild. Domesticated animals require human care. Some of them, like pigeons, have gone feral when we abandoned them, but they are not like their wild cousins, and it shows.
Because of the selective breeding involved in domestion, most of these animals are producing byproducts--eggs, milk, honey, wool, etc--in quantities that they do not need. While some species have been bred to do that to their own detriment, most heritage breeds are fully capable of producing more than they need of these things, and there can be true symbiosis between these animals and their human caretakers. Some of these things they need to have removed for their own health. It's an ancient bargain--we keep them safe, and warm, and healthy, and protected, and they give us that which they have in abundance. The problem isn't the animal product, it's how it's produced commercially.
So yeah--veganism is one option, but it is, in my opinion, a narrow scope at an issue that is far more nuanced. I think it's equally ethical to aim for a diet that focuses on local, ethical farming practices--for growing crops, for caring for meat animals, for beekeeping, for chickens and sheep and whatever else we need. We've spent longer than any of us will live making these animals part of our world--discarding them and what they can give us is not going to benefit them. We just have to learn how to treat them respectfully.
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sanguineterrain · 1 month
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for the dc prompts you reblogged:
can i request jason todd x reader "someone likes being pinned down" + A flirting with B while sparring to throw them off their tracks
where reader is also a vigilante??
thank you so much 🩷
very sexy prompts thank u 😌
jason todd x gn!reader. r and robin!jay were friends, r doesn't know jason is alive/red hood but jason knows r is a vigilante. r's alias is 'nocturne' (if that's already in use oh well lmao). fighting/sparring, jason is mega in love with you as usual!!
all fics at @sanguinelibrary
****
"Still blindly following the Bat, huh?"
You land in a crouch on the rooftop, just like how Nightwing taught you. The Red Hood doesn't look at you, digging through two duffel bags. He doesn't even draw his gun, like you've seen him do with virtually every other vigilante in Gotham.
You wait, ready to spring into action. But Hood doesn't stop what he's doing. Slowly, you rise.
"What... do you mean?" you ask.
"I mean, why are you traipsing around Gotham as a bat-adjacent? Who are you s'posed to be anyway? Goth Bat? Alternative Scene Bat?"
"I'm Nocturne," you say, shoulders rising to your ears. Rude. You thought the chunky boots and star over your suit's eye mask were inspired.
Red Hood lifts a hand. "Don't get me wrong, I dig the threads. I'm just surprised B didn't have an aneurysm over the sequins. Then again, Discowing did do it first..."
Your first two meetings with the infamous Red Hood have been similar in that he's never very concerned about you stopping him (ouch), but he also isn't callous or cruel with you like he is with the other vigilantes.
Case in point: the last person who cornered Hood on a roof was Red Robin. Hood shot him in the shoulder before he could land.
In short, he's perplexing as hell.
Batman's forbidden the rest of the team to confront Hood without backup. And you're technically not supposed to be on patrol tonight. But if you can intercept Hood, that'll be a huge win.
Hood keeps on packing the duffels. You hesitate, then step forward.
"Get away from the bags," you say. "I won't ask twice."
Hood looks at you. "Nocturne's a pretty cool name, I'll admit. And I like the boots. But I still think you oughta call it quits."
He zips up the bags, stands, and kicks them to the corner of the roof.
"Because you're just that unstoppable?" you ask, hands curling into fists.
"Yeah. But mostly 'cause I know you're made for so much more than this, sweetheart."
And that is the third and perhaps most bewildering thing about your encounters with Red Hood: you've gotten the creeping feeling that he... likes you.
Which is ridiculous, and if you ever breathed a word of that to anybody, Batman would probably check you into Arkham.
You take another careful step forward. Hood leans against the railing and folds his arms.
"This the part where you apprehend and hogtie me for innocently packing a duffel bag?" he asks.
You glare. "Innocent? I know you're making a weapons delivery because I know you've been waiting for Batman to be off-planet to make it."
"Clever. Told ya you're too good for this," Hood says. "Should be in college with those smarts, not playing maid for Batman."
"Are you lecturing me?"
"I'm advising you as your friendly neighborhood drug lord. Lecturing makes me sound like a guy who's got too much money and too big of a savior complex to understand that the way he fights injustice is fundamentally flawed."
"Sounds personal."
Hood laughs. "Honey, you have no idea."
You strike.
Hood parries your first attack easily, which you expect. The truth is that whoever trained Hood cut no corners and you're still relatively new at vigilantism. It's only by the grace of God that Hood hasn't left you to bleed out on a roof.
You kick his shin, but Hood turns on the instep and blocks. You go for his shoulder, where his armor separates to give him more movement. But Hood's ready for that too, and he catches your arm.
"Gotta keep that right arm up," he says. "Surprised no one's trained that outta you yet."
You elbow Hood in the throat. He coughs and lets go.
"Like that?" you ask, muscles tense with adrenaline.
Hood makes a sound that might be a laugh, still choked from your hit. "Just like that, honeylove. Good job."
"I don't need feedback," you snap, immediately going back in for another hit.
"Sorry. I'll make this quick then. I do have a delivery."
On the next strike, you advance, using a technique Nightwing drilled into your head for bigger opponents. Hood goes down and you land atop him.
"Oh, that's a Nightwing takedown if I've ever seen one," Hood says beneath you.
You're close enough that you can hear his breathing through the decoder. Pride swells in you at taking him down. Not even Batman has managed such a thing.
Hood is warm and big. His shoulder span alone dwarfs you. When you'd seen him from afar, fighting Batman or Nightwing, you'd been terrified.
But now, perhaps stupidly, you feel comfortable. Annoyed, but safe. Something about him reminds you of home. Makes your stomach flip in a good way.
Which is terrifying.
"You're coming with me," you say, reaching for your cuffs.
"If only. Unfortunately, you've forgotten a teensy weensy detail, dearest."
Hood bucks you off, legs first. Your feet fly into the air, which allows him to flip your positions. You wince, preparing for a concussion upon impact as you go down. But Hood cushions your fall and neatly rolls you over. Your back is pressed into the concrete, hands locked over your head. Hood's weight holds down your hips and legs.
He looms over you, easily holding you down. Your face grows hot.
"How did—" You squirm in his grip. "I had you!"
"Weight distribution, sweets. Tell Al—one of the Bats to add weight to your boots. They keep you light on your feet, but you were depending on them too much to hold me down, and we ain't evenly matched there."
You thrash in his grip. "Hood, I swear to fucking—"
"Easy. Don't sweat it, sweetheart. You haven't been doing this for very long. That was a good takedown, regardless. I'm impressed."
"Screw you."
He hums. You can tell he's smiling under the helmet. "Sorry, I forgot. You don't like feedback."
Hood strokes the inside of your wrist. You aren't sure he's aware he's doing it. His grip is firm but light. He's not trying to hurt you. Your pulse is in your throat.
For a moment, you're both still. Hood seems caught in a trance, like even Superman couldn't tear him away from this moment. From you. And it's not that you're afraid, you're just... you're...
"How do you know so much about me?" you blurt, because it's puzzled the whole team. "You been spying on me?"
"'Course not. Unlike your boss, I respect privacy. No, I did research. I recognized you from when you'd hang around that second Robin. Shrimpy little guy. What'd ya even see in him?"
The grief overtakes you before you can control your mouth.
"You don't know anything about me or him," you spit. "Don't fucking talk about him. He had more skill and goodness in his pinkie than you'll have in a lifetime. And you could learn a thing from him about changing a city. He'd tell you that fear alone never works."
Hood is quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.
"Where's your distress signal?"
"Why would I tell—"
Hood shifts over you, cutting off your reply. He pulls a ziptie around your wrists. They're not even a little tight. You could probably slip out of them if you had five minutes.
"I know you're not s'posed to be out tonight," he whispers in your ear. "'S not your patrol night. Good thing you're my favorite."
You nearly swallow your tongue. "How do you—I don't—"
"Uh-huh. So you be good from now on, yeah? Wouldn't wanna have to keep tying you up like this."
You lift your chin. "We'll switch positions soon enough."
Hood snorts. "Okay, I know you heard how that soun—"
"I heard it," you say grumpily. "Just get on with it. Jerk."
"As you wish. Distress signal?"
"Collar."
Hood presses the button under your collar. Your breath hitches as his gloved fingers graze your neck.
"Oh? Does somebody like getting pinned down?"
"In your dreams."
Hood laughs. He zipties your ankles last, then sits you upright against the railing.
"Not too tight, are they?" he asks. "I know you've got a circulation problem."
You squint. "You seem to know a lot about me. Not fair that I don't know much about you, Hood."
"'S just business, honeylove," he says, scooping up his duffel. "Now I don't wanna see you in a suit anymore, comprende?"
"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"
Hood pauses, eerily still. He turns those glowing white eyes upon you. Your heart picks up.
"No," he says, so serious it startles you. "But someone else might. And I don't want you to face the same fate as your good friend Robin."
He vaults over the railing before you can respond. Your head thunks lightly as you lean back and wonder if you're really just business to the Red Hood.
(pt 2)
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