#trying to be content with this little piece

[laluv-469]

<begging boyfriend suguru back home after a fight>

synopsis: you'd been growing increasingly concerned with your boyfriend's new secretary at work; a beautiful, older, pink haired woman who'd been making you extremely insecure about yourself. suguru had began to stay at the office longer and coming home later. whenever you had tried voicing your concerns, he'd dismiss it as if it was some ridiculous idea (which it was, as suguru hadn't been cheating whatsoever) however, you didn't believe him. you were sure he'd been cheating and the one time he came home at 12 am after spending an entire day at the office, you had enough. you bickered with the man for a while and finally kicked him out. of course, you couldn't stand being without him so you texted, begging him back home.

content: suguru geto x fem reader, suguru geto x y/n, jjk x reader, smut, angst, fluff, makeup sex, fingering, unprotected, cowgirl, humping, etc etc.

word count: about 2,264

editing this at 2 am, and with the small text? defo apologize in advance for any grammatical errors <3

come home love - you, 1:43 am

? - suguru, 1:43 am

i forgive you, just come here. - you, 1:43 am

…please - you, 1:44 am

i don't understand, y/n you kicked me out. - suguru, 1:44 am

please baby i miss you. ill help you understand when you get here - you, 1:45 am

omw. - suguru, 1:47 am

seen

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

you layed in bed holding your phone above your head, legs crossed around a large squishmallow. you had missed your boyfriend’s intimacy, couldn't live without him which was.. concerning to say the least.

the sound of keys jangling came from downstairs, causing your ears and eyes to perk up and away from the phone.

you listened to the door opening and shutting, followed by the sounds of steps coming up the stairs.

“y/n?” suguru called out, his voice echoing from down below..

silence ensued as you hugged your knees tightly to your chest, a feeling of anxiety overwhelming you. you weren't sure how he'd act… angry? cold? or just.. the same as always?

suguru now stood by the frame of your door, taking in the appearance of his emotional mess of a girlfriend that was you. you wore pink shorts and his large gray hoodie, clinging onto it for dear life as tears rolled down your cheek. the squishmallow was clenched tightly between your legs, the poor thing worn out, evident from your desperate dry humping. god, you were a pathetic sight right now, needed to be taken care of.

your boyfriend sighed, climbing onto the bed and laying down next to you. he looked down at your legs, eyeing the squishmallow, then back up to you expectantly.

in a swift yet gentle motion, he swiped the plush away from your legs and threw it to the ground, replacing it with his hand. “we'll have to wash that…” he snuggled up next to you, being so close that his lips rested on the sensitive spot on your neck. “and as for you…”

suguru's hand ran up your inner thigh, lightly grazing the skin, sending shivers down your spine. “why're you here crying by yourself?” he questioned, voice low as well as his eyes.

you mumbled, slightly closing your legs in an instinct response to his cold touch. “mmnh.. missed you..” that's all you could get out really. of course you were ashamed of yourself, you couldn't muster up the courage to even try to speak coherently to the man. you just needed his attention and love.

his lips began to lightly nibble on your neck, his finger running little laps around your inner thigh. “missed me?’ he whispered through the confinement of your skin. he bared his teeth, taking small bites of your neck. “don't kick me out baby, then you won't have to hump your pillow like a little whore.”

you whimpered at his words just as much as his touch. your panties began to soak, the heat from his fingers getting to you. suguru now began sucking on your neck, grabbing large pieces of skin between his teeth and absolutely eating you like an animal.

all the while he ran his fingers up your leg, them finally finding their way up to your shorts. he effortlessly yanked them down and quickly placed his fingers against the wet fabric that was your panties.

he let out a light chuckle against your neck, rubbing against your wetness with two slender fingers “god, what were we even fighting about again? let's not fight anymore, i don't need my little princess being more needy than she already is…”

you let out a hefty breath, your thighs twitching around his hand. “suguru..nn~” you pleaded his name, begging him to just touch you already.

“yes, baby?’ his lips left your neck with a lick, the spot being revealed as extremely red and irritated. he raised his eyebrows in a mock display of curiosity. he lightly tapped his fingers against your panties as they almost began to appear transparent with moisture.

“fuck.. please.” you whined like a dog, bucking your hips against his fingers, beginning to take matters into your own hands. fuck it, you would ride his fingers right here if you had to.

but he stopped you, hastily removing his fingers from the cave between your legs. he pulled his hand back and now with four of his fingers, he slapped your cunt. hard. creating a loud smacking sound followed by your needy whine.

“ah!” you practically yelped as you twitched in response to the cold slap against your pussy.

“use your words, love.” he spoke sternly, his dark eyes glued to yours. he simply watched you suffer, watched your reactions. watched the desire in your eyes grow.

“sugs, p-please just touch me, fuck me… something please..” you let out in between labored breaths and lust-filled eyes.

suguru heard your words and complied, returning his fingers to the warm spot between your legs. he tapped your pussy a few, rubbing it against the fabric, thumbing the clit. finally, he slipped the panties to the side, revealing your soaked pussy. a tear trickled down your thigh, which he scooped up and licked immediately.

with only a few grazes over your entrance, he instantly shoved his fingers inside you, filling the hole you've been meaning to for a while now. you moaned quietly, pleasure seeping through tight lips. he pulled his two fingers out, moving them up to the clit to circle a couple times, then returning to your hole. he breached your entrance again, filling the hole repeatedly with his tall slender fingers. you trembled under his grasp, hips rocking with the motion of his fingers seeping in and out of you.

his fingers kept fucking you, slowly yet ever-so heavenly. your wetness clenching onto his fingers, the cream lingering and dripping down to his knuckles as he reached deeper inside you each time. you moaned sweetly into his ear as his free hand worked to fondle your breast, pressing his thumb to your nipple firmly. both his hands worked to please you, making you feel like you were in ecstasy. eyes shut tight while his fingers seeped into you.

after he heard you gasp, he knew he reached your sweet spot. with this, he pushed his fingers even deeper inside you, pushing the absolute limit. he remained deep in that spot and began to move his fingers in circles, warming up his wrist for more. his fingers once again proceeded to fuck violently inside of you, moving insanely fast in a circular motion as you began to shake with the rising sensation of an orgasm. the squelching sound of your wet cunt grew loud as his knuckles brushed against your pussy lips. his fingers fucked you fast, causing your body to go jelly. you moaned and whimpered and cried into his ear.

there it was, your juices began to squirt everywhere, every direction without hesitation. “aa- aughh nnn!! sugu!!!” you whimpered like a fucking bitch, coating your boyfriend's fingers in your cum.

it wouldn't stop though, you kept squirting and squirting like a fountain. juice leaked down his hand, even fell onto the bedsheets, his arm, everywhere. “good fucking girl, savin' all this juice for me..” he encouraged you, helping you ride out your violent orgasm.

his fingers slowed and pulled in and out ever so gently, fucking the wave away. once the shaking of your legs stopped, he pulled out and presented his fingers to your mouth.

“mmm look at this…” he pressed his fingers to your tongue, then back to his, sharing the juice between the two of you.

suguru then repositioned himself underneath you, in such a swift motion he threw your weight on top of him. you straddled him, sat on top of his lap and already began to grind on his thigh.

he ran his hand down to your ass, squeezing it and ripping your panties off completely, then smacking it hard. his other moved up your stomach, palming it as you desperately grinded against his lap, breath heavy and wet.

“you so fuckin’ desperate for this cock, huh?” he very subtly rocked his hips beneath yours, his erection stiffening beneath his pants. “gotta work for it, baby, ride me how you did that pillow-” he nodded suggestively, allowing you to practically take control.

you nodded back receptively and eagerly, “mhm!~” you lifted yourself off of him slightly, racing down to his pants to yank them off. he helped you take those off, along with his boxers.

his cock sprang out from its confinements, revealing to be hard and already leaking with pre-cum. you quickly rubbed your cunt to it, grinding up and down. you forced it down onto his stomach, getting a small wince out of him. you continued to grind back and forth, his foreskin slipping up and down. you breathed heavily, eager to get this thing inside you already.

suguru seemed to be getting impatient as well, eyebrows furrowed watching your teasing motions. his pre-cum began to leak onto his stomach, the friction of your body against his cock forcing it out. he moved his hands to your hips, guiding you as you grinded against him. your body rolled against him smoothly as your cunt hugged his hard dick, small grunts escaping from his mouth.

sure, he was willing to let you tease him, but he wasn't gonna resist touching. he moved his hand up to fondle your breast as the other one rested on the arch of your back. suguru began to heave, his chest rising and falling anxiously with a weak expression. you rocked your hips against him a few more times before lifting yourself, struggling a bit as you guided his tip to your entrance.

slowly, you sat down on his dick, his entire length seeping inside you. you remained seated and just kept grinding, small moans escaping your lips as you allowed the size of his cock to settle in. his hips also moved, the both of you working to shove his cock deeper inside you.

god, you fucking loved the way his cock felt almost stuck inside you, your tight walls hugging it as it barely budged. you kept your eyes low and heavy and reached your arm to wrap around his neck as your other hand was pressed on his waist for support. your mouth hung open shamelessly as you rubbed your fingers into suguru's scalp. you humped his dick the same way you did your pillow, so-so desperately.

you now felt comfortable enough to lift yourself off of his dick, his tip barely escaping your pussy lips before slamming yourself back into him, getting a nasty moan out of the both of you.

“aghh fuckk~” he groaned dangerously low, eyes squinting with a pained expression. “fuck y/n keep going..” he begged, digging his fingertips into your hips helplessly.

you nodded compliantly, picking up the pace and beginning to bounce up and down onto your boyfriend's wet dick. it curved with each movement, throbbing each time it made contact with you. “su.. gu.. ru.. nnn~” you stretched out his name with each moan, showing him how fucking thirsty you were for him. the sounds of clapping and wet moans filled the room, a dirty yet beautiful melody of mess.

your ass bounced violently against his hips, the curve of your body being apparent as each bounce intensified. each time you felt him hit your spot, that sweet feeling rising slowly. suguru pulled you by your back and down onto his chest, your breasts smushed against him. he whispered into your ear, sounding sweet and grateful unlike before.

“i love you, i'm sorry for being.. inconsiderate.” he grasped onto your hair as you felt his cock twitch inside you.

you could tell he was close, and you weren't following so far behind him. you could barely respond to his sincerity, though, your words blabbering and stammering.

“l-love you too su-gu~” you replied, hips going practically numb as suguru took control, slamming into your core until you couldn't take it.

you let out a stretched out moan as suguru released inside you, ropes of cum shooting up your womb. god, it was a lot of cum and it just kept going, filling you up to your heart's content.

“annnh!~! coming, coming!” you tapped suguru's shoulder frantically as your legs shook violently, your orgasm nearing once again.

you whined into suguru's shoulder before biting down onto it, your teeth marking it harshly as you came all over his cock. he pulled out of you, revealing the mess of stickiness created between your bodies. your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as your juice leaked out of your pussy, falling onto his now limp cock which occasionally twitched in the aftermath of your steamy session.

you sighed, panting tiredly as you collapsed onto suguru. he took you in his arms, rubbing your back and digging his nose into the nook between your shoulder and neck. he kissed the crevice, pecking it all the way from your neck up to your face.

“mmm” he hummed softly, “no one else but you baby, only you.” he whispered into your lips, smiling into a sweet kiss in which you reciprocated.

a small, content smile painted your lips as you lay your head onto suguru's chest, the rest of your body remaining straddled and held tight against his. you two stood like this for a while, enjoying each other's company which you had so badly missed. you hated getting into fights with him, but damn he knew how to reassure you time and time again.

#jjk #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk men #angst #fluff #suguru geto x reader #deftones #im going insane #smut #spotify #modern au #idk anymore

[strangepuppywerewolf]

Good Mama (E.W)

Basically modern!Ellie with a breeding kink who wishes so bad that she could knock you up and see you all round and swollen with a baby that she put into you.

Honestly, I don't care if minors interact with my post. It's a piece of writing, not a porn video.

CW: Brief!Sub!Ellie, Oral E!receiving, Fingering R!receiving, Strap-on sex R!receiving, Clitoral stimulation both E!receiving and R!receiving, and Implied breeding kink. Ellie has pubic hair, fight me.

Word count: 1.1k

Ellie was frustrated and admittedly, exhausted. Work hadn't gone the way she wanted and all she wanted now was to see you, her pretty little girlfriend. She huffs as she walks through the door she can't help but feel her heart swell at the sight of you sitting on the couch with a cup of tea and the dog Moose with his head on your lap.

"Hey, baby." Ellie rasps kissing your forehead as she plops down next to you slinging her arm around your shoulder and planting a kiss on your forehead.

"Hey, Els." You sigh snuggling into her still petting Moose. "How was work?" You ask and Ellie grumbles something under her breath before responding by holding you closer.

"Pretty shitty. The guys don't know how to fix a fuckin' bicycle let alone a car." She grunts. You nod in acknowledgment and spin around to straddle her lap.

"M'sorry you had a bad day Els. Anything I can do to make it even a bit better?" You mumble kissing along her jawline. She lets out a content sigh placing her hands on your hips rocking you into her.

"Shit baby. Gonna rile me up." She groans grabbing your chin and lifting your head to give her access to your neck. Moose huffs and barks hopping off the couch onto his own bed.

"Wanna make you feel good Els..." You say sliding off her lap and kneeling down in between her thighs, looking up at her for permission.

"Go ahead pretty baby. Make me feel good." She groans as you slip off her jeans, followed by her boxers. She leans back on the couch and looks down at you running her fingers through your hair. You look up at her while kissing her inner thighs and using your fingers to spread her labia, looking at her clit that slowly started to emerge from its hood. Leaning forward you stick your tongue out flicking it over her clit, making her jolt.

You feel her pubic hair brush up against your nose. Ellie groans as she grabs your hair pulling you closer into her cunt. "Fuck baby, eat it like you mean it." She grunts as you hum into her pussy feeling her rock her hips against your face. You use your thumbs to spread her pussy lips even more and wrap your lips around her clit sucking on it. "Oh shit! Such a good girl, fuck!"

You moan at the praise, the reason you weren't using your fingers was because Ellie didn't enjoy being penetrated. "I'm gonna cum baby..." Ellie groans before letting out a high-pitched whine releasing her juices onto your waiting tongue. You give her clit a few last teasing licks before she grabs your hair pulling you up into a kiss shoving her tongue into your mouth tasting herself on your tongue.

"Was that good, Els?" You pant, still catching your breath. Ellie looks at you with her signature goofy grin and pulls you by your wrist pinning you onto the couch.

"Was so good mama..." She husks into your ear slipping her hand into your underwear and kissing the side of your neck. "Gonna fuck you so good tonight...Hell, if I try hard enough I bet I could knock you up..." She grunts running her fingers along your wet slit, making you gasp and nod vigorously.

"Please, Els...Want your baby..." You gasp as she slips two of her long fingers inside your desperate cunt, slowly pumping them in and out.

"I'm gonna give you the big strap tonight...Gotta make sure you're nice and full." She whispers biting at your ear, moving her fingers a little harder inside you before slipping them out, making you whine desperately. "Shh...Gotta get these cute clothes off of ya." She says tugging down your pants and undies, and your shirt and bra following afterward. Looking down at your now naked body, Ellie moans at the sight.

"Stop...Staring..." You say slightly embarrassed. Ellie smiles reassuring you of how absolutely stunning you are, before plunging her fingers back inside your wet heat making you arch your back and let out a strangled moan.

"Most fucking gorgeous girl I've ever laid eyes on." She growls biting at your collarbone, before crooking her fingers up right into that sweet little pleasure spot. "There she is..." She mumbles referring to your g-spot. As you spasm and moan you could feel the palm of her hand slapping up against your clit.

"E-Ellie you feel so good..!" You cry out as she continues to pleasure you. Feeling that knot tighten in your stomach you pull Ellie into a kiss moaning into her mouth as you feel yourself fall apart on her fingers. She pumps them a few more times making you jolt before slipping them out of you and licking your slick off of her fingers.

"We're not done, baby. You up for another one?" She coos holding your face. You nod eagerly before she helps you off the couch and leads you to the bedroom. As soon as you're situated she goes to the closet pulling out the largest strap she owned and securing it onto her waist. She then climbs on top of you before pulling you into a loving kiss.

"Ready baby?" She asks, rubbing the tip of the silicon dildo up against your entrance. As you nod, she smiles softly pushing the faux cock into your awaiting entrance making you moan lowly.

"Ellie...S-So full..." You moan as she starts slowly moving her hips.

"I know pretty girl. But it's gonna feel so good once I pump a baby into you." She purrs moving her hips a little faster and harder. Hearing your moans clicks a switch inside of her as she grips your hips slamming into you making you yelp in pleasure. She presses her face into your neck as she fucks into you smelling your sweet scent and biting into the crook of your neck.

Her hand slithers down to rub at your little nub of nerves making you cry out in pleasure. She groans as she feels the end of the strap hitting her own clit, fueled by lust she whispers dirty words into your ear making you whimper shyly.

"E-Ellie I'm gonna cum..." You whimper making her smirk into your neck.

"Cum for me pretty girl, I'm close too." She grunts giving a few last hard thrusts causing you both to cum. She pulls the strap out and takes it off before cuddling up next to you and running her fingers through your hair. "I love you, pretty girl." She whispers holding you close.

A/N: So there's a hint in one of the paragraphs hinting at my next work! Hint: It's in paragraph 21. Guess in the comments what next!

#ellie williams x reader #lesbian #tlou2 #smut #fem!reader #ellie #ellie smut #she's daddy don't try and tell me otherwise

[sarawritestories]

I Wanna Be Yours Chapter 1

Xaden Riorson X Lydia Aetos

Summary: Lydia Aetos Longs to be a Ballerina, her father has other plans, and has conscripted her to the rider's quadrant with her childhood friend Violet. Reuniting with her brother he only gives her two orders. Do not bring up wanting to dance and stay far away from Xaden Riorson. Both of his orders go ignored.

Content Warning: Violence.

A/N: Here is the first chapter I hope you all Enjoy! 🩰

Word Count: 4.9K

If you want to Read on AO3 click Here

I Wanna Be Yours Masterlist

Ashes. I’m watching my pointe shoes turn into ashes. I can’t help the tears that roll down my face. “Maybe now you will understand that no child of mine will be a performer in a traveling freakshow. My children are riders; they will serve their country with pride.” My Father’s voice grates against my skin as I watch the one thing I treasure most burn my dreams with it. “Come, Lydia, it’s almost time to go.” My legs refuse to move, as the pop of the wood makes me jump.

Hearing Colonel Aetos sigh grates my skin, he’s sending me to my death, with a first-born son like Dain, he didn’t need a second child. Correction he didn’t want one. Yet here I sit to his dismay. His feet move quickly as he places his hand in a vice-like grip around my arm; yanking me from the hearth, I writhe in his grasp as he pulls me away as I see what is left of the pink silk turn black. “That’s enough, Lydia.” He pins me against the wall, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send a message, “You are going to cross that parapet, and join your brother, you are going to become a rider. Do you understand me?”

I school my face into something soft as if my life isn’t being turned upside down, swallowing the tears. “Yes, Colonel,” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, but my mother’s and my father realizes it too as his complexion pales slightly.

Regaining his composure, “Get dressed, back your rucksack and let’s go we are supposed to be in General Sorrengail’s office in 10 minutes.” I jerk out of his grasp and head to my room, trying to even out my breathing. As miserable as it sounds, I’m glad I will have Violet. The two of us have been inseparable for our entire lives. We are both being forced into the Rider’s quadrant today, at the hands of our parents. I tuck my hand under my mattress and pull out a piece of paper. I sit on the edge of my bed and re-read words I have memorized at this point.

My Dearest Lydia,

My little twinkle toes. I’m so sorry, I had to leave. The life your father leads can feel like a cage. I’m suffocating, little one. I cannot be controlled or maintained like a rabid beast. I’m sorry, I know what this means for you, what your father will make you do when you turn twenty. Just know that not a day goes by when I won’t feel guilty for putting you in that cage to take my place. Just know that I love you and if you get anything from this letter. Don’t stop dancing. Whatever you do, continue dancing through this life. Let dance be your escape from the cruelty Basgiath has to offer. I hope one day we will be reunited, and you will have found a way to break out of the chains that hold you in Navarre.

I love you more than you know,

Mom

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Every time I read the letter of my heartaches; she knew that the father would force me into the Rider’s quadrant. Why couldn’t she take me with her? Couldn’t we both be free? Why couldn’t she have stayed just long enough for me to find a way for me to pursue my dream?  Anger bubbles up in my core, why was she so selfish to fucking leave me here, knowing that I would be sharing the same feelings she had.

Not wanting to keep The Colonel waiting I put on a black, long-sleeved shirt and tightly fitted leather pants from an old riders uniform my father found. I fold the note into a small square and tuck it into my boot, not wanting to risk him finding it. Grabbing my bag, I step out of my room that has been my home for seventeen years of my life and meet my father. As we begin to walk, I shut my eyes and I allow myself one more moment to mourn over the dream I will never be able to fulfill.

Violet and I stare up at the tower familiar with the trek we will have to make to reach the parapet, the first trial we will receive before ever becoming a cadet. Violet takes my hand, “At least we have each other.” 

I give her hand a comforting squeeze as we move up the line. “Name,” The lady calls out not bothering to look up from the parchment. Violet moves to talk to the older gentleman as I heave a sigh.

“Lydia Aetos.”

The woman blinks after scribbling down my name and looks up to meet my eyes and I notice the flinch she gives when she notices that they are two different colors. “Are you related to Colonel Aetos?”

I nod my head, “He is my father.” I see Violet is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, “I turn and look at her. “Have a nice day,” I give her the best smile I can, which in turn might be a grimace as I move to meet my friend.

She is conversing with a taller girl, with dark skin and her hair had been pulled back in small rows of braids. Her brown eyes glimmered with excitement as I came closer. The woman paused and tilted her head at me. “Hello,” I give a small wave, shifting under the weight of her gaze.

“Your eyes.” She begins and my mind starts filling in the gaps with words my father has used in the past.

Ugly.

Disgusting.

Defective.

“Beautiful.” The word shakes me out of my spiral of negativity.

“I’m sorry?” I blinked.

“You’re eyes, they’re beautiful. I have read that some are born with two different colored eyes, but to see the beauty of it in person.” She holds out her hand, “Rhiannon Matthias.”

“Lydia Aetos.” Taking her hand and shaking it a genuine smile creeping up on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m General Melgren, now move. We don’t have all day.” A man’s voice quips behind us. I turn to find piercing blue eyes and a full head of blond hair; he is wearing a scowl that contorts his face into something heinous.  He gives me a playful wink, that makes my stomach churn, “Let’s go, Princess.”

Not bothering to give him a response, I turned back to my friend and new acquaintance. The three of us begin our ascent up the stairs. The smaller man in front of us- Dylan- keeps babbling about how excited he is to be in the Rider’s quadrant. As he and Rhinannon discuss their dreams and goals, I let my mind wander.

Twirling across the stage, each pirouette clean and precise just as Seraphina has taught me. My tulle skirts billowing around me like a shield. I don’t need to remember the next move, the music seeps into my bones and as if in response my body knows what to do next. I grin as the warmth of all the mage lights, illuminating the stage, kisses my skin. Twirling into a solid form, Large tan hands grip my waist as my partner steps in time with the beat.

We move as one as he spins hoisting me up in the air. I am certain my toes are pointed, and my arms are sharp in an elegant pose. I feel myself being lowered and looked at my partners face, familiar hazel eyes and a toothy grin in plain view, twirling me once more to the crescendo of the music and when my twirls end, He dips me low, my one leg stretched out in between his, the other bent my foot tucked behind my knee cap. His forehead presses mind as my arms move around his neck in time with the end notes of the music.  My eyes close as the smell of Cinnamon, Vanilla waft my nose, as the thunderous applause ruptures through the theater. Lips press against mine and I can’t help the giggle that erupts from my throat.

“Lydia.” His warm voice calls for me.

“Lydia. Lydia.”

“Lydia!” Violet shouts giving me a shove, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look to see that Rhiannon and Dylan are giving me looks of concern. I pressed my hand to my cheek to find them wet with tears. Shit. Violet’s eyes held worry and an undertone of understanding. “You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” She whispers low enough only I can hear, as our hike up the concrete steps was nearing a close as the daylight was beginning to peak through.

“Yeah. I guess I’m missing everyone a little more today.” It’s a severe understatement that I’m making but Violet has her own things to worry about, no need to add more to her plate.

Violet, Dain, and I grew up together, she is basically my sister in all forms of the word. We have been inseparable, even more so when Brennan died and Dain left last year for the Rider’s quadrant, me, and her against the world we always teased. I never felt that more now, she gripped my hand in hers and gives me a squeeze as if she is thinking the same thing. “Thank you for always being there when I need, you Vi.”

Violet snorted, causing Rhinannon to turn and smirk, I look down at her feet briefly and notice the woman has one of Violet’s shoes and Violet in turn has one of her slippers on her feet. When did they do that? Violet’s voice causes me to face her, “You sound like you’re going to die today.”

“I am pretty sure that was the plan.” I murmur as Dylan and Rhiannon reach the top of the stairs. “He wants me dead, Vi.”

“Too bad. You and I. We are not going to die today, Lydia.” Violet was the first to reach the open expanse of the turret. The breath of fresh air is welcome to the stench of sweat and body odor. The warmth of the sun kisses my skin, a large gust of wind whipping my hair across my face. Violet seeing this her eyes widen. “I almost forgot. In my bag there is a little gift from Mira.” I quickly open her bag and pull out a package with my name on it and a little note.

Hey Kid,

A little gift from your favorite sibling. Don’t roll your eyes, you know it’s true!

Just something that can keep that crazy mane of yours up and to remind everyone not to mess with you.

Mira

Unwrapping package to reveal two long gold hair pins, little gold dragons at one end the pointed end sharp as knives. “I love your sister; did you know that?”

Violet laughs as I shut her bag and quickly put my hair in a tight bun. “You and me both.” There is a pause as we make our way closer to beginning. “I’m looking forward to seeing Dain.”

I roll my eyes, about to retort when a man’s voice, “You ready for the next one, Riorson.”

I pause my movements, my hands still in my hair, looking at the broad chest in front of me my eyes trail up and I am met with a set jaw and alluring onyx eyes, and in the light little gold flecks shine through. I roll my shoulders and drop my hands from my hair. His eyes graze my body and back up to my eyes and shiver down my spine. “Aetos, Sorrengail, you two, okay?” Pulling away from the man’s magnetic gaze, I meet Rhiannon’s stare. I dip my chin in silent confirmation.

“Sorrengail and Aetos?” The low rumble of Xaden Riorson voice pulls my attention back to him. This man is the definition of beauty, his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, even with the scar cutting across his brow that drags down to the top of his cheek bone. His tan skin gleams with perspiration from the midday sun no doubt, and I catch a glimpse a tattoo on the side of his neck that disappears with the neckline of his shirt. The clearing of his throat makes me meet his eyes once more. There is a knowing smirk on his face, and he quirks an eyebrow, “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

I remain silent and avert his stare. “You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” Violet’s voice sounds from behind me.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s Daughter.” He retorts, “Your mother had my father executed.”

I can feel Violet’s anger bubbling behind me. “Your father killed my brother I think that makes us even.”

Xaden snorts, “Hardly.” That perks my head up, to find his eyes were already on me. He tilts his head his eyes assessing me, like I’m a prize mare, “And you. I wasn’t aware that Dain Aetos had a little sister. He never talks about you.”

I bite my lip the only indication I give that his words bother me, “I can’t say. I’m surprised.”

Xaden takes a step forward and try to focus on the floor once more, “Why’s that, Kitten?” A finger hooks under my chin forcing me to meet his gaze and my heart rate quickens, out of fear or sheer arousal, I’m not sure.

One thing I do know: This man is dangerous.  Yet I fall for his beautifully set trap and answer honestly, knowing I should not give him any of my weaknesses, “No one likes talking about the disappointment in the family.” For extra measure I take a step back, away from his touch and he lets me, dropping his hand.

“Hurry it up. Some of us are becoming riders today.” The ass hole from before speaks, his words grating my skin. A distant scream comes from the death trap in front of me. When looking over to the parapet I no longer see Dylan and my heart sinks. Rhiannon is still moving, and Violet begins to walk across dark storm clouds rolling in followed by a rumble of thunder. Fucking. Wonderful.

Xaden chuckles and I meet his stare, “Good luck, Kitten.” He gestures for me to the entry point of the parapet.

I glare at him, flaring my nostrils, “My name is Lydia.”

He smirks, “I think my name suits you better.”

I don’t know how the dagger got in my hand but the minute I throw it, the steel passing about 3 people before it hits its mark. The dagger sinks into the crack of the concrete a half an inch from the jack ass who has been making smart ass comments all morning’s shoes. Looking back at those gold flecked onyx eyes I give him a wink, “I think you’ll find, it doesn’t.”

The guy next Xaden laughed, “Looks like the kitten has claws. I hope you make it, Aetos,” He nods his head and I begin to walk. The drop of rain pelts my skin the moment I take my first step. When I take the next few steps, the sky opens as rain cascades down. I can hear Seraphina’s instructions in my ears.

Arms out, straighten that back. Get into second position.

I straighten my posture and extend my arms out, placing my feet outwardly giving myself the optimal balance and proceed to move. I focus on Violet’s pack in front of me as I keep moving. I imagine myself on stage, the music once again whisking me away. The low rumble of drums meets the contrasting sounds of the piccolo and various string instruments to create a melody that makes my movements lighter. I trust in my training, my balance, the music that for years kept me rooted. The music drowns out the sound of the rain colliding against the brick. My mind transforms the stage into a whimsical forest, and I am balancing on a fallen tree trunk to reach for my lover on the other side. His smile warm as the lights pressing against my skin. I’m not in old leather, I’m in a white gown with billowing layers that makes it easier to move in when I dance.

I twirl my feet finding purchase on the log once I complete the spin with flawless precision. A smile emerges on my face as I gear up for my flip the finishing move, I need to do before reaching the halfway point to him. I run and leap, my legs flipping over my head with the elegance of a gazelle. Landing with a pointed toe and my arms reaching for the sky my balance slips slightly but not enough to keep me from moving toward my goal. To keep me from returning to his arms. I allow myself a glance at his eyes and his face contorts into something unrecognizable, evil.

“I’m coming to get you, Twinkle Toes.” The voice is not his and I blink as the music abruptly stops and the reality, I am in comes crashing forward. The cool kiss of rain rakes a chill down my body. The voice came from behind me. I turn to find the blonde from earlier coming at me with full speed. The person that was behind me in line is blocking him from me and still is a good distance aways. That does not deter the Blonde-haired menace, as he grips the arm of the girl and throws her off. My eyes widen and my instincts overtake my body and I sprint. I focus ahead of me and try to think of music that would be appropriate for this. Something fast paced with horns and fast-paced drums, trying to keep my mind on anything besides the absolute menace behind me.

I can hear his footsteps thudding over the pattering of the rain and I quicken my base trusting in the traction of my boots. I can see the end and Violet reaching it. The is gaining on me and I have enough distance that I pause, briefly and take the risk I prep for my jump and slip. Regaining my balance and looking back to see he is still far enough for me to recover. I get in position once more and take a deep breath.

I will not die today.

I sprint into a run once more and when I have enough distance I take my leap, my feet pointed, my back arched in perfect form even Seraphina wouldn’t have anything to say. When I land the ground is slick and I lose my footing. Fortunately, Violet is there to hold me still. “Lydia! We made it!”

I nod and turn to the cadet with bright red hair, she smirks, “Name.”

“Lydia Aetos.”

“Welcome to the Rider’s Quadrant, Lydia. That was one hell of a performance.”

I walk further down the steps and notice that Violet winces, “Let’s get you taken care of.” I loop her arm in mine before we are both grip in a bone crushing hug.

“We did it!” Rhiannon beams and she looks at me, “You definitely made a name for yourself, what you did on the parapet was amazing.”

“What did I do?”

Violet blinks, “You’re kidding.” Before Violet could elaborate.

“Name.”

“Jack Barlow.” His eyes meet mine and there is a snarl on his face. The look promises one thing. Trouble. Thankfully he stalks in the other direction

“Lydia.” Only one man’s voice makes me groan knowing a lecture is brewing, I turn and see Dain standing there his mouth formed in a tight line, his eyes shift over to the silver haired woman next to me and his face shifts into shock, “Violet?”

Violet smiles, “Hi Dain,” Dain looked to his left then to his right before he grips both Violet’s and mine’s wrist and drags us away from Rhiannon.

“Dain,” I hiss, “She’s hurt take it easy.”

As if on cue Violet begins to dry heave. “Shit.” Dain mutters as he takes her to a bench hidden in an alcove where no one could see. “What the hell are you doing here, Violet?” As he tucks her head between her knees.

“General Sorrengail, refuses to have a scribe in her family. Like someone else we know.”

“Scribe is a respectable job. Dancing is not.” Dain deadpans and I clench my fist. A hand touches my shoulder causing me to jump.  “What the hell were you thinking, Lydia? Dancing on the parapet like that?”

I blink, and clear my throat, “I didn’t realize that is what I did. I was trying to put myself in my happy place. To keep me from over thinking about what I was doing. My instincts went into overdrive.”

“What you did was showboat and it’s going to cause me problems.” He scowls at me, and I get a good look at him at him, he’s grown a beard since I last saw him. But he still has our father’s brown eyes, and his hair cut short and his curls sitting atop his head. “What?”

“I can’t look at my older brother. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.” He rolls his eyes and presses me into a hug.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in my hair as he notices the new pins, “Let me guess.”

“Mira.” Violet, Dain and I say at the same time.

Dain smiles, “They suit you.” His small drops, “You must promise to never do what you did again. There are only two rules that I need you to follow, I expect you to follow them. No talking about dance, or dancing and stay away from Xaden Riorson.”

“Noted.” I rolled my eyes, “Glad to see somethings never change.” Dain sighs and moves back to Violet.

I felt a hand gripped my shoulder causing me to jump, “It’s just me.” Rhi’s voice calms me as she gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze, “I wanted to swap shoes back.”

Dain looks between Violet’s shoes and glares at Violet. “Make it snappy.” He glares at Rhiannon, “Who are you?”

Rhiannon looks between me and Violet, “I am their friend.” She slips off Violet’s boot and sighs in reprieve as Violet removes the slipper from her foot and grabs her boot, which Dain helped her put it on.

“I am a squad leader.” He looks over to me and Rhi. “You two go tell the red head recording names that you three are going to be in my squad. I’m going to help Violet and will be right back.” I nod my head and turn on my heal.

“Is that your brother?” Rhi asks.

“Yup.”

“He is something.”

“Tell me about it.” I sigh

We have been placed in our squads. I’m grateful that Violet and I ended up together and not in Xaden’s Wing. Not a fan of the fact that he is one of my superiors. His eyes meet mine and he smirks, those eyes look at me like a predator watching his prey. He whispers to our wingleader and then. “Second Wing Flame Section, you will be moving to Fourth Wing.” My stomach sinks, avoiding the stare of my new wingleader.

“Cadets, move.” Dain commands his jaw sets the only indication that he is upset. We move to where our new wing is standing as the one that is now apart of Second Wing move to where we were just standing.                 

Once everyone settles Xaden begins to speak. I try to zone him out as best as I can, exhaustion is beginning to take over my body. The adrenaline from crossing over the parapet but his voice rings out, “You all feel pretty bad ass don’t you,” Cheers erupt around me and Xaden nods, “Feeling invincible?” I do not feel that way. “You think you’re worthy of a dragon.” More cheers erupted and Xaden crossed his arms. The sound of thunder erupts.

No. Not thunder.

Wings.                                                                                                                                                

As if on Xaden’s cue a horde dragons’ approach, the noise begins to build as a regal blue dagger tail lands on the edge of the wall as if it’s a perch for them. Her claws dig into the brick, pieces crumbling down under her weight. I notice the cadets around me are frozen in fear. A few were shaking and their pants had dark spots that trailed down their legs. Terror racks through my body but I focus on my breathing.

Thump, Thump

The blood curdling scream of another cadet rattles me as a young man from the first wing runs heading back toward the parapet. The dragons all shift as a few more cadets scatter. I blink and feel hands around my waist tugging me down before the dragons unfurl their tongues and fire erupts from all different angles. The hands around me tug me close to the lean chest and I place my own hands around the mystery person’s, their fingers lacing theirs through mine I squeeze my eyes shut as anguish screams fill my ears and will certainly give me nightmares. The fire ceases and the smell of burnt flesh is left in its wake. The figure behind me moves and helps me up. I turn around hoping I would see Dain’s face behind me.

Thump, Thump

Instead, I am met with warm brown eyes and a goofy grin. A man with tan skin, a curly mop of brown hair and handsome face looks back at me, “You, okay?”

I nod my hand, “Thank you…” I lead of.

He holds out his hand, “Ridoc Gamlyn.”

I took his hand, “Lydia Aetos.”

Before Ridoc can comment on my name Dain turns, “Quiet both of you.” Ridoc Mimics him and causes me to giggle as Xaden continues his speech.

“Anyone still feel invincible now?” He questions his brow quirking as his eyes loom over the entire Quadrant, locking onto mine.

Thump, Thump.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. His eyes pin me to the floor incapable of moving. Out of the corner of my eye I see the blue dagger tail moving her head back and forth.  It’s the gasp of the crowd that pulls me from Xaden’s gaze.

Thump, Thump.

 The blues dragon takes a step down and my squad parts to make room for her. Her yellow eyes are looking directly at me as she takes another step forward. Dain’s face paled as he watches on, but its movement to my left that catches my attention. Xaden moves from where he is standing, his face is unreadable. It’s the quaking step of the dragon in front of me and my heart rate quickens as her yellow eyes take me in.

Thump, Thump, Thump

Despite the paralyzing fear, that I may very well die in the next few seconds I take in the creature before me. Her large horns curve on the top of her head. Her scales up close shimmer with various hues of blue and hints of black near the base of her scales, which makes her eyes stand out. Her nostrils flair, it feels like a challenge, as if she is begging for me to turn and run.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I will not die today. I take a glance at where Dain is and spot Violet right beside him, terror on her face. She knows dragons better than I do, though I know enough, she knows my rate of survival is potentially slim here. I close my eyes and try to keep my breathing even. My heart erupting in my ears.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I get down on my knees, my hands remaining at my sides. “What the fuck is she doing?” Jack Barlow’s voice carries over the silence that has fell amongst the court. No one else says a word as I bend forward lowering myself until my forehead touches the cool brick, the small grooves pressed against my skin. I close my eyes and I mentally recite different dance positions in my head trying to ease the fear.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

My breathing begins to even out when I feel the warm steam pressing against my neck. I take the risk and lift my head; the dragon nods her head. Is she giving me the okay to rise? Another dip of her head, and I slowly rise to my feet. As I do I meet her gaze once more, it’s just her and I, the world around us since forgotten. The dragon does something to my surprise, she cranes her neck where the tip of her snout touches the floor. She is bowing to me. The message is clear, a sign of mutual respect.

Thump, Thump.

She raises her head but keeps it low as she cranes her neck out for me. I cannot even see her eyes as she comes near and presses her snout to my chest. The chatter amongst the crowd is indistinguishable. I press my hand to her snout, her scales feel like leather under my touch, a smile forms on my cheeks, fear suddenly turning into elation. “Hello, Beautiful.” My voice was unable to reach above a whisper. She huffs in response and moves back to where she was perched before.

Adrenaline must be widdling from my body fast because I grip Ridoc’s shoulder tightly as my world tilts.

Thump, Thump.

I just survived my first encounter with a dragon.

To Be Continued..

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @marvelsmylife @sherayuki @misslady246 @thelov3lybookworm @a-frog-with-a-laptop @randomperson1234sblog @garricks4thwingqueen

#xaden riorson #xaden riorson x oc #xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #ridoc fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #dain aetos #violet sorrengail #slow burn #xaden x oc

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Hange Zoë SFW & NSFW Headcannons

(A/N- I’ve emerged from my mentally exhausted state to just say happy birthday to my dear best friend @abbyslev. I hope you enjoy this and you get better soon my friend!)

(Warning: NSFW content in the second part of this and some of these hcs take place in a modern AU)

SFW

- Whenever it’s your birthday, they make it an all about you day, doing whatever you want. They always try to make you a homemade cake (the first time they messed it up BUT the second time they made it right)

- They’re the type to take off their jacket whenever it’s cold and give it to you, then they’ll hold your hand.

- Hange LOVES to call you pet names like darling, my love, baby, babe and sweetheart. Those are just only a few examples though. Also they sometimes make up some crazy pet names too.

- If they wake up before you they’ll stare at your sleeping face with a soft smile, sometimes even bushing a piece of hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. (And just imagine their morning voice-)

- If you’re ever tense from stress and/or anxiety they’ll be there to give you a massage. Those hands can do wonders- (in more ways than one)

- Whenever they text you they send a million messages, ESPECIALLY when they are excited.

- Sometimes when they go to the store and walk past something they think you’ll enjoy they’ll of course buy it for you. (Because they love to just spoil you)

NSFW

- Hange gives off strong switch vibes. When they’re being dominant, often times they’re a pleasure dom, giving you exactly what you want (need). When they’re a sub they tend to be unpredictable. Sometimes they’ll be a brat to get a rise out of you and other times they’ll be a good and obedient sub just for you.

- Some days they like to have slow and passionate sex and other times they like it fast and rough. They usually go the more romantic and passionate route though.

- Hange trusts you enough to take off their eyepatch in front of you during the deed. Their heart will melt if you kiss on their eye or if you tell them how beautiful it looks.

- Definitely the type to praise you for everything you do (and will say it with a big smirk on their face)

- They take a mental note of what gets you turned on and what makes you squirming and moaning the most. They have a good memory so they’ll for sure remember every little thing.

- Always keeps their glasses on because they want to see all of your different facial expressions and movements clearly.

Masterlist

#aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot headcanons #aot hcs #aot hange #hange zoe #hange smut #hange x reader #hange x y/n #hanji zoe #hanji x reader

[kuroashims]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Whether it be making sims, doing gameplay, or making renders, our posts are all unique (even if you don't think so), so what makes your posts unique? ("It isn't my post if I don't do/have [blank]) Feel free to throw in examples and let your mutuals/followers tell you what makes your posts stand out on their dash!

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Well it isn't my post if I don't have a One Piece sim in it...or was it a little too obvious? <3

On a more serious note, I think my posts are all unique thanks to the pieces of custom content I edit to make my sims look like how i picture them in the anime. I also tend to do a little storytelling with the fewer words possible, so that the screenshots speak for themselves. And whether it comes to my gameplay or just full posing, I try to share how much I love One Piece in various & colorful ways!

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#i'd love to read your opinions guys :) #sims community #simblr #sqotd #ask

[elismor]

I see a lot of posts going by about comments and kudos and hits and...well... I've been thinking about the three quite a lot lately--as both a fic author and someone who spends a lot of my professional life looking at web metrics and determining which are actually important/accurate measures of user engagement.

Mileage varies, of course. And this is all just MY opinion, so do feel free to ignore it wholesale.

What I think when I see someone say that sorting by a hits to to kudos ratio is a good way to find "good" fic:

Hits are a measure of quantity (how many times your story or art has been viewed), but without knowing how AO3 defines a hit, it's actually kind of a meaningless number.  We know that our own views of our work do not count toward hits, but...if my BFF looks at my story 7 times in one day because she keeps trying to read it but getting interrupted...is that one hit, or seven? And if it's seven, then the numbers are artificially inflated because it's really just Bestie trying to get her Codex fix. And...if Bestie looks at it three times today and four tomorrow...is that 7 hits total, or two? 

Some transparency on the part of AO3 could clear this up handily, but until we get that...shrug. All it is is a number that may or may not be an accurate reflection of how many actual people looked at the page your fic is on.  Did they READ it? Or did they nope out?  No way to know.

Kudos are intended to be slightly more qualitative, but there is no way of knowing why the reader gave them. (Similar to likes here on tumblr.) It might be that they loved the piece. It might be a simple acknowledgement that the reader was there. It might even be a pity kudo. We have no way of knowing. It's, again, just a number.

Obviously, everyone is free to interpret both hits and kudos as positive reaction/interaction. I might do that myself if I didn't spend my workdays explaining to people that 50,000 "hits" to the website could be 50K people who came to learn about us or...simply the result of the computer labs on campus having the university homepage set to default.

Bigger numbers are just that....bigger numbers.

Comments are the only objective way to judge how someone is reacting to your fic or art.

So, what then? Sort by number of comments?

You can do that, sure. (I think. I confess I have never once gotten the AO3 search to work as well as people rave about.) But do keep in mind that many authors answer their comments. So, something with, say, 20 comments may be 20 people telling the author they loved it. Or it might be ten people and ten author-replies. OR, it might be three people having a conversation in the comments. You have to look and see.  

Bigger numbers are just bigger numbers.

Okay, fine Elis. What am I supposed to do then?

Look, I'm not your mother or your therapist and you are free to assign whatever meanings you like to these things. I, personally, find "good" fic through a combination of things including: recs, the fandom grapevine, dumb luck, events, and just...reading some of it and not feeling guilty if I nope out for some reason.

This all sounds a little depressing when laid out like this, huh? Especially when you take into account the downward trends in interacting and the rise of folks treating fic and art as content to be consumed. 

Here's what I have learned from writing fic for 30 years (well, 28 and counting):

As an author (and an artist, I would presume), you have absolutely no way of predicting which of your work will land and take hold and which will not. It's alchemy and luck and the weird (and not actual) algorithm of fandom. Sometimes, the piece you whipped out in 30 minutes and posted on the fly will land in the right person's inbox and they will share it and their friends will share it and it will get big.  Sometimes, the piece you slaved over for weeks and weeks will do that...sometimes it won't.  Sometimes your genius manifests and resonates, sometimes it does not.

My personal favorite fic of my own--the one I think is probably the best thing I have done in SW fandom-- has like 8 kudos and 4 comments (2 of which are my responses). Is it disappointing? Yes. Is it an indication that the fic is objectively "bad"? No.

The mercenary in me suggests that if you want to get lots of comments and kudos, you should pick the pairing that is THE pairing in the fandom and write for that--because that's where the eyeballs are, because that's where the connections are.  But that is not why I write, so it's just that--a very mercenary way of looking at things. Not that there is anything WRONG with doing it that way. Supply and demand run the world. If the people want Codywan and you want the people....give them Codywan. No shame in that.

And there is no shame in wanting or seeking validation for your work, either.

But it breaks my heart to see authors (and artists) give up on themselves when they do not receive piles of kudos and comments. It's not you. It's...the luck of the draw. It's...fandom. It's...an artificial and murky set of measurements that have almost no basis in anything meaningful.

Keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing. You are what you make, not how people respond to it.

#let's talk about fic baby #fandom #kudos and comments

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

Syzygy: Some Closing Thoughts

I'm writing this at 8pm on my backyard porch, under the wavering light of a distant full moon.  Hello, moon! Please don't kidnap me. I just wanted to hang out with you for a while as I collect my final thoughts. It's a pretty cloudy night tonight, so it's not properly visible, which I suppose is the cloud cover shielding me from a terrible lunar fate. It gives a deliciously hazy atmosphere for the absolute essay I'm about to write.

Apparently, the Farmer's Almanac says that tonight's full moon is a 'Pink Moon', which sounds like it'd be a very pleasant viewing experience. I imagine pastel frangipanis spontaneously sprouting all over the moon's surface, covering every inch of its rocks and crags until the soft pink glow is visible from all the way down here on Earth. Unfortunately it's not named 'Pink Moon' because of that; there's some American environmental factors, etc.

I think it's kind of charming that there's a list of names for every possible full moon, as if the moon's putting on different masks or incarnations every time it tilts just enough that we can see its full face. I'm looking at a list of them now instead of writing these final notes like I probably should. The names are so delightful. Strawberry Moon. Sturgeon Moon. Apparently last month's full moon was Worm Moon. WORM MOON. I could go on. I won't. Let's talk about Syzygy instead.

Syzygy is... Man, where do I even start with this? Let's try the beginning. I started writing Syzygy in February of 2021, after ruminating on it for probably a few months before that, as I often do. That's three years ago, so my memories of the reasons why are a bit fuzzy, but I think I did it for two reasons: one, a desire to have a long-form meaty slowburn fic for a beloved rarepair in the tag so other people could enjoy it, and two, a fascination with the idea of fractured identity, what it means to be a Side without a Centre. The whole thing with the alternate-history steampunk swapped-around Earth came about naturally from that.

Except that's actually kind of a lie, because that's not the beginning, this began in 2020, when I wrote a pitch for a local station that was accepting radio play submissions (rejected, of course) featuring a hardboiled noir detective in a starlit city whose latest client was a tiny shiny girl asking him to solve her father's murder. And that's also a lie, because I think it really began when I tried to write an original novel in high school where the protagonist's name was Avery Allen, because I liked the way the name tripped off my lips.

My stories are always built on each other, especially stories I never get to write. They all recycle into each other in a weird blend of concepts and characters. 2021 was when I sat down and told myself I was going to write the Thomceit time loop fic, and I dove into it with aplomb. I can't recall the exact timeline of events, but at some point I underwent some truly gnarly health problems that left me unable to use my hands for extended periods of time, and so the fic that was meant to be for a Big Bang ended up... Just sitting in a folder for a while. But me and my beta managed to pull it the fuck together, and after adding some extra bits and pieces (the cutaways were a LAST MINUTE ADDITION even though I think they're some of my favorite bits in the whole thing) I started putting it all up.

Okay, there we go, that's enough of an abridged history of this thing. Let's just say: I never expected as many people to like it as it turned out, I thought that it would be a niche little fic for a rarepair, and I was honestly pretty content with that. So it was delightful to see so many people getting so into it, I have enjoyed the FUCK out of all of your comments and theories and predictions. It's been delightful when people predicted a plot point correctly, and honestly even more delightful when they predicted incorrectly. I've had such a blast.

As for the writing... Suffice to say I have many notebooks full of notes and thoughts, more than one spreadsheet to keep track of time loops and lore, and a semi-complete list of all of Virgil's tarot cards, which one day I'll probably polish and share properly, because I think the concept is neat. But that's kind of how it always goes with my writing.

Naming every inspiration for this would take forever and I'd still miss a few, but I'll just throw out a key few ones, because I gotta:

17776: What Will Football Look Like In The Future, because when I first read it I got the wrong idea and thought that Juice (Jupiter Icy Moons Explorer) was short for Betelgeuse (the star), and that sparked a whole thing about living stars in my brain. Also, just the general way that the worldbuilding and absurdity is handled in that world, it scratches my brain just right.

Welcome To Night Vale. I don't think I need to explain this one.

Madeleine L'Engle's writing, particularly A Wind In The Door, particularly-particularly the bit of it where Proginoskes explains why, precisely, he has to remember and Name every star in the universe. Fucking beautiful book.

A particular Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi fic I read years ago and haven't been able to track down again, which also features two people stuck in a time loop who are initially unaware that they're in it together AND dying at the same time. I believe they also meet on a bus? The details are fuzzy. The worldbuilding and descriptions of that fic were so stunning to me, it had me unable to read anything for a solid few weeks, it is definitely a superior work to mine in every respect. If anyone finds it, let me know, I don't think I finished reading it and want to know how it ends.

An unpublished fic that I had the privilege to read while it was being written, that changed my brain chemistry re: the Sides unknowingly existing without Thomas. The Flowerwall Cafe originally hails from this one, too, graciously borrowed and greatly beloved.

Both Ghibli films in general AND Dianna Wynne Jones books in general, and obviously the intersection between the two, Howl's Moving Castle, which is fascinating in how both mediums handle the setting.

The Doctor Who audio drama Scherzo, which is a wild ride, and there's a major plot point revolving around the two main characters holding hands and fusing gruesomely into each other - and another involving an in-story fairy tale.

There was no huge inspiration for the clockwork city and weird steampunk carriages, apart from (perhaps) Fallen London. Certainly, the idea of a background organization that wants to kill the sun, who also happens to be a sentient being, is cribbed from the Liberation of Night.

Syzygy also happens to be packed full of many obscure references to... like... personal projects of mine, some published and some unpublished, as well as a lot of my friends and co-writers, and some really REALLY niche stuff that only I will ever properly understand. I buried a lot of myself into this story, is what I'm saying. Juice hails from a completely different project (a TTRPG with my friends, of which she is a beloved and cherished NPC), the in-universe author for Avery Allen (and Mallory Wynn too) are named for a fictional TV author I created when the writing discord was making a nonexistent fandom, Logan's dumpling recipe is my favorite recipe of all time.

I have an apartment ghost, too. I talk to it regularly.

Final thank-yous, because I want to post this very very soon, I've been typing for too long and the mosquitoes are starting to get to me. Thank you to:

Everyone on the TSS writing server who listened to me complain while I was writing it the first time round, and has subsequently listened to me complain while editing it these past two years. So many people in there are responsible for little bits and pieces - phrasings, words, nicknames, jokes - and I couldn't begin to name everyone who helped.

Saphira and the rest of the people who are currently working on making a full-cast audio drama out of this fic (???) (???!!!!??) (!!!!). It is SO baffling to me that it's happening, I'm in complete disbelief whenever we talk about it or I see the script or I get asked logistics questions, I'm terrified and thrilled to see how it turns out, what the fuck! The very existence of that project has ended up influencing a few things about this fic's endgame, too.

Everyone who's commented extensively, commented entire academic analyses, commented numbered lists, commented laconically, left a single emoji in the comments, left kudos, bookmarked it, sent me asks on Tumblr, given me thumbs-ups on Discord, or even just silently read the fic without interacting at all. Your witness brings my words to existence. Love you love you love you.

And Len, who lives in my brain and my body and my heart and my throat, and who is honestly singlehandedly responsible for dragging this fic out of the depths of Google Docs and into the arms of AO3. They've already said I don't need to thank them, but come on, I totally do. Len is the best beta, and puts up with all sorts of deranged nonsense from me, because I have an unhinged writing process where I don't think about anything before I put it down on the page, and I use way too many connecting-dashes and not enough semicolons. Kisses kisses kisses. Thanks for doing this with me, and I can't wait to do it again.

Myself. I managed to write this and I managed to finish it. That makes me a pretty cool person, all things considered. I'm glad I did this.

What next? I've got to rest. Well, I need to get some things done... and then rest. I've been juggling a hellish amount of projects for a while now, and now Syzygy's finally cleared from my plate, I'm going to try to let the others get cleared too so I can take some time and be less stressed. The Locked Tomb AU will be ongoing, as I get through final edits of chapters, so keep an eye out for that - if you're interested in a fic that's rather less starry and shiny, but very much Thomceit and death themes, check it out  - and then....... Well, whatever comes next, whenever I have the energy to do it. I adore writing in this fandom. I'll be back with something weird soon enough.

Ad astra, baby! It's been a blast.

- Min (2024)

#Syzygy #author's note

[wc-confessions]

I don't recall if I sent something of this caliber before but:

I am really, REALLY fed up with how almost every piece of Dark Forest content, specifically the MAPs, focuses on Ivypool and/or Hawkfrost and/or Antpelt.

Let's go down the list. This is Halloween? Ivypool is there. Devil's Whisper? Ivypool and Hawkfrost. You Can't Hide? Ivypool. That one Fairly Oddparents style MAP? Ivypool and Antpelt. Chang Gwi? Ivypool. Yumyan Hammerpaw? Ivypool. It's Me? Yep, Ivypool is there too. Even The Angry River, one of my personal favorite MAPs, has Ivypool and Antpelt as the only two trainees we see.

It's not that I hate Ivypool, I just hate how she's the only DF trainee to get attention. Where's Redwillow's MAPs? We know so little about why he trained in the DF, he was one of the few trainees to fight for the DF in the end, he even became a full DF cat, only to die permanently trying to redeem himself. There's at least one story to be told there. Beetlewhisker was the one trainee to try to leave the Dark Forest and got killed permanently for it, what was that like for Icewing? Why is Maggottail down there? How did they ever convince Thornclaw to train down there?

Just, please, let Ivypool rest.

.

#text #confession #anonymous #warrior cats

[fizziepopangel]

Daddy Alastor

Let’s be clear, Alastor is an asexual king, he would fuck no one to become a father, the man would simply acquire a child. Most likely a child from Cannibal Town.

Despite his reputation, Alastor would be surprisingly good with kids. It would shock everyone except Rosie..

Rosie would give him all parenting books she could get his hands on because the usual calm and collected radio demon would basically be shitting himself when he realized that he was a father now.

Although he would dub himself a father, I don’t think he would really feel like a dad until his child actually called him dad for the first time.

Alastor would be very, very protective of any little ones he acquired so he wouldn’t trust just anyone to watch them. In order of most to least trustworthy to watch his child would be: Rosie, Vaggie, Husk, Charlie, and as a very last resort, Lucifer, Sir Pentious or Angel Dust, under no circumstances would he leave his kids alone with Niffty since he still sees her as a child herself.

Lucifer would be a last resort solely based on the fact that he has his own personal beef with the former angel.

His kids would absolutely terrorize Sir Pentious when left alone with him on the rare occasions they were left with him, but they would get along with the egg bois.

His kids would not be allowed to watch tv….  But Charlie and Sir Pentious would be total pushovers and they would end up letting them watch cartoons when their father wasn’t around. Alastor would be pissed if he found out since he would 100% be trying to teach his kids about the magic of radio.

With his own father having been a rather abusive piece of shit, Alastor is very much a gentle parent and does not believe in putting his hands on his kids for any reason. And god help anyone who does put their hands on Alastor’s child.

Teaching his child to cook would be something Alastor really valued because cooking and being in the kitchen was a big reminder of his mother. Each time he was in the kitchen with his kiddo, he would show them a new dish from his childhood, each one accompanied by a memory and story of his mother.

If he had a son, Alastor would have him in a little suit similar to his.

Alastor would be the type of parent to have a bag of everything his kid might need from various snacks to a change of clothes to a little first aid kit, he would even do this when his kid gets into teen years.

Husk would be his go to babysitter for a small child despite not being his first choice since he’s a cat and he would think a small child would absolutely love hanging out with a giant cat…. He would be correct. Vaggie would be his go to choice for an older kid since he would trust her more to watch out for an older kid in a more attentive way, and he would nickname her his child’s guardian angel.

There would be weekly trips to cannibal town to visit aunt Rosie (who would always have a new gift for her favorite niece/nephew).

In the event that Alastor had a little girl, he would threaten Angel Dust within an inch of his life. Not because he’s afraid of his child being hurt by the spider demon in anyway, but because he wouldn’t want his child exposed to Angel’s *cough cough* adult content too early or too often and any daughter he had would absolutely want to hang out with Angel as much as they could because he would be the most extra when it came to playing dress up and giving makeovers, and playing tea party…. And Angel would be the only one who could entice a certain cat to play with them too.

Any child of the infamous radio demon would know all the other overlords well since he would bring them to overlord meetings with him. Alastor would sit them on his lap with a coloring book and some crayons and a few snacks on the table in front of him and when asked why he brought a child with him, he would refer to his kiddo as a future overlord and call it an early lesson in their “family business”. In the event he had an older child, he would have them take notes on what they learned in the meetings.

Despite having his own personal issues with the king of hell, Alastor would go to the man for advice on parenting if he had a smaller child since he is the only one Alastor knows who has really dealt with a small child.

His child would be one of the only people who he talked to without his radio filtered voice most of the time.

He would hang up every drawing his kiddo made, especially if he saw that they had a real passion and talent for it. And when he ran out of room in his room and his radio station, he would make Husk hang them at the bar and persuade Charlie to hang them around the hotel.

This man would absolutely let his child come on his radio show every now and then, and he would 100% always refer to them as the a “very special guest” just to make them feel special.

#fizziepop thoughts #vivziepop #hazbin hotel #hazbin headcanons #the radio demon #niffty hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #daddy alastor #alastor would be a good dad #husk hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar

[spookwyrdie]

Spellbound

pairing: sub!Han x dom!reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: It's his first time at the goth club, Han fidgets with the ring on his collar. He came for one thing - a night in the dungeon with you, the Countess.

genre: SMUT, goth club AU, gentle femdom

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, gentle femdom, semi-public sex, BDSM, leather, spanking, impact play, wax play, no penetration, porn with no plot, descriptions of subspace

18+ only, minors DNI

a/n: I didn't proofread this one, so if you notice any mistakes, no you didn't lol. Han has been coming for my neck recently, a full blown bias wrecker menace.

photo credit: collar

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I've only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

The bass hits Han in the chest the minute he walks through the doors, a droning synth heavy in the air, a smoke machine fuzzing out the flashing lights on the dance floor. It feels like he’s walked into another world, a darker, seductive world, filled with black clothes, pale makeup, and an air of mystery. There are bodies pulsing on the dance floor, moving like they’re casting spells to the thick wall of sound that the DJ has built. The whole room feels like a heartbeat that overtakes his own, swayed by the power of the crowd.  

As he makes his way towards the bar, he stumbles a little, his big shit-kicker boots a little unwieldy with his anxiety on the rise. He brushes himself off, his outfit feeling a bit foreign on his body but so exhilarating at the same time. Layering different types of sheer tops, he settled on some combo of mesh and fishnet, under a frayed black sweater barely held together by threads. His pants are a tight leather, and his big boots help him feel a little more solid on his feet. He accessorized with the secret hoard of jewelry he owns, never really having a great excuse to break out a lot of these pieces. The final addition is his collar, a sleek leather with an O-ring at the base of his throat and a few chains for decoration. He bought it for himself, accepting that if he wants to wear one, he’s the only one who’d buy it.  

He’s on edge, his black polished fingers fidget with the choker around his neck, the heavy metal ring in the middle clanking against the chain. It gives him something to occupy his hands to keep them from shaking. He’s been wanting to come to the goth club ever since Chris showed him the pictures he took from the last kink night. It’s a type of lifestyle he’s been drawn to for years now, never really working up the courage to cross the threshold of the night club until now.  

Truthfully, he came to see you. He’s drawn to you like a fly to a web, and you’re the spider waiting in the center. It’s like he can feel you in his veins already. The photos that Chris showed him had been rolling around Han’s mind like an obsidian marble, leaving sooty trails across his thoughts for weeks now.  

~~~ 

“One of the areas they have is a dungeon,” Chris said while flicking through photos of different people in fishnets, lace, leather, all caught in a moment of entranced movement. It looked magical to him. He caught a glimpse of you in the back of one of the photos, standing behind a body bent over and restrained to a piece of leather furniture. You were holding a riding crop in the shape of a heart in one hand and the other had a fistful of the restrained person’s hair tangled in your fingers. “You have to sign a liability waiver, but it’s open to anyone of legal age who consents.” 

“Who is that?” Han asks, trying to keep the tremble of desire out of his voice. 

“Her? Oh, that’s Y/n. She goes by Countess in the scene. She’s one of the dommes that works these events.” Chris says. “Hang on, I have a ton of photos of her. She’s great in front of the camera.” 

He opens a whole other folder labeled ‘Countess’ and Han is awestruck by you. In one, the crowd surrounds you as a man lays prone on the floor with your giant platform boot on his head. In another with a woman strung up from the ceiling with red ropes with you moving to slap against her thigh with a flog. Even more with your face close to a different figure chained to a piece of leather furniture, your hand picks their head up from their hair to look them in the eye. Their eyes are locked onto yours, in a state of undiluted rapture. He’s fixated on your facial expression – teasing, mean, but full of affection. He feels his heart drop into his stomach at the thought of that kind of attention from you being focused on him.  

“She’s... amazing,” Han says, a little breathlessly. “Do you know her well?” 

“Yeah, she’s like always working at the kink nights,” Chris replied. He turns to Han, waggling his eyebrows, “Why? You interested?” 

“N-no! Nothing like that.” 

“Okay, sure,” Chris says, turning back to his computer. “Kink nights are the last Saturday of every month... Not that you’re interested.”  

~~~ 

Han moves through the crowd, bodies swaying and grinding against his as he pushes past them. The atmosphere is shrouded with the ambience of fog and heavy synth music.  

In the back corner, there’s a person at a small table with a clipboard in front of a curtained doorway. He saunters over slowly, heart beating in his throat from nerves. The tiny goth girl with Siouxsie eye makeup looks him over with a smile. “You look a little lost, sugar. Are you here for the dungeon?” 

“Y-yes,” Han gulps. “Is there...like, paperwork?” 

She giggles and holds up a clipboard, “You’re sweet. Yes, there’s some risks you have to look over and sign off on. Oh, I’ll need a photo ID and you’ll need to leave your phone in a little locker up front here. No photos or videos are allowed in the space.”  

Han takes the clipboard from the bubbly little goth girl and starts scanning the page. His eyes go wide at the types of sexual acts he may encounter, “including, but not limited to” all types of bondage, impact, pain, suspension, penetration, masturbation, etcetera etcetera. He gulps, signs his name on the dotted line, and gives the goth girl a shaky smile. “Is... Countess working tonight?” 

“Countess is definitely working tonight,” she says with a sly smile. “She’s only taking individuals on in the private space this evening. It hasn’t been super busy tonight so you’re in luck.” 

The thick fabric of the curtain brushes past him as he enters the dungeon. Immediately, the room is darker, quieter. The bass still thumps through the walls but it’s low enough to have a conversation. He looks around, there’s a group in front of a small stage where a masked rigger ties up and suspends a woman from her hips. One knee is to her chest and the other is bent behind her, more rope connecting her ankle to her braided hair. Her arms are tied behind her back, her body perfectly balanced in this dangling pose. She slowly spins from the place where the ropes hang. The look on her face is a meditative euphoria, full trust in the hands that tie the knots.  

Han is frozen in place, watching the spectacle. He licks his lips in a painful longing. He wants that kind of trust, that kind of floating in space feeling. The only experience he has is from the porn he’s watched and the occasional self-restraint and impact, but it definitely doesn’t feel right. He wants to be at the mercy of someone else’s hands, and he’s really hoping that someone could be you.  

At that moment, a low, sultry voice murmurs in his ear, “Is that something you’d be interested in, little one?” 

Yanked out of his focus on the rope scene in front of him, he spins on his heel. There you are, clad in a leather skirt, fish nets, lace, and a chest harness, showing off your ample curves. You have sweet eyes lined with sharp eye makeup and a dark burgundy stain on your lips. If someone asked him to describe a succubus, he’d describe you in this outfit.  

You look him over, the powerful and discerning gaze he saw in those photos in front of him, that focus pressing into him. He leans back, trying to steady his breath. You step further into his personal space, the toes of your platforms almost touching the tips of his boots. He breathes you in, a heady combination of sandalwood, tobacco leaf, and something sweet fills his senses and he feels a warmth pooling in his lower belly.  

You smile, your teeth gleaming in the low light, “You’re the guy Chris told me about, right?”  

“Chris talked to you?” 

“Yes,” you lean closer, face inches from his. “He mentioned a friend of his was going to show up tonight looking like a scared stray dog. Told me to take care of you.” 

His eyes flutter from your gaze to your plush lips. He’s rooted to the spot, held in this moment by your gaze. The way your teeth look sharp in the light as you grin at him makes his knees weak. You look like you could eat him alive, and he’d thank you for it.  

Your eyes drift over his face, flicking down to the collar he’s wearing. Reaching up with one sharp, painted fingernail, you trail over the O-ring on his collar sitting in the hollow of his throat. 

“Do you belong to someone, stray?” 

“W-what?” 

Your eyes meet his, gaze piercing into his own, “Did someone give this to you as a gift of ownership?” 

His eyes trail down to where your finger lightly grazes over his choker. “No,” he gulps, “I got it for myself because no one has ever thought to get one for me.” 

You study him for a moment, taking in his layered distressed shirts, leather pants and boots. Your eyes rest on that O-ring on his throat as you gently hook your index finger on it. “So, you’re a lost little dog looking for a leash.” 

Han gulps again, suddenly his pants feel a little too tight. “Y-yes, Countess.” 

A slow smile spreads on your face again and your eyes light up with something hot and piercing. “Good boy.” 

With that, you tug on the ring of his collar, pulling Han’s body off balance and towards your face. “Follow me,” you purr against his lips. Your tongue darts out to kitten lick his bottom lip. Han’s eyes flutter closed in disbelief. Heavy arousal blooms in his chest and he feels his cock twitch in his constricting pants.  

You turn, index finger still hooked on his collar, and march him to another room. A thick velvet curtain brings him into a warmly lit space, a plush, leather clad bench in the center of the smaller room. It looks similar to a small picnic table, one main middle support with two supports dropped lower, the surface a well-oiled burgundy leather. There’s a set of cuffs attached to each of the legs at the bottom, so a body could lay there and be cinched down in a vulnerable position. There’s a couch in the corner and small table on the side with an open trunk, Han peeks inside. There’s rope, paddles, a flogger, some red candles, and more. He stops breathing for a second, his arousal thumping through his chest. 

You turn to him, “So, what are you hoping will happen, little stray?” 

“I-I’m not sure,” Han stammers out. 

“Bullshit,” you say matter-of-factly. “No one purchases a collar like that without some sort of craving. What do you want out of this?” 

He pauses, mulling over the question while you appraise him with your eyes, finger still toying with the ring at his throat. He gulps audibly, “I want you, Countess. I want you to hurt me.” 

“Hurt you how, little stray?” 

~~~ 

Han is practically on all fours on this leather bench. His legs are spread over the top part of the bench, knees and hands on the pads below. His weight rests on his naked torso and in this position his half hard cock in nestled between his body and the bench, pressing against the leather of his pants. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles are thick black leather, he pulls against his restraints, feeling them bite into his skin. He can still move a little, still squirm around, but not much more than that. It’s not like he could see what was to come either; he can only lay his head to one side, his cheek flat against the leather of the bench. His heartbeat pounds through him in this position, the rush of adrenaline from the nerves and the promise of the pleasure to come has him quivering. 

You circle him like a predator with its prey, dragging a hand idly across his body as you move. He twitches under your touch when you graze over his ass in his leather pants. When you get to where his face is, you crouch down to his eye level.  

“If I ask you for a color, what do you say?” 

“Green for all good, yellow for slow down and reassess, red for full stop,” he replies. 

“Good,” you murmur, your eyes locked on his lips. You flick your gaze up to his, a pleading look in his big brown eyes, and press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “We’ll start with the riding crop.” 

He feels a hot bolt of desire shoot through his spine at the mere thought and he squirms against the bench, trying to relieve some of the pressure building in his cock. The leather of the heart shaped riding crop in your hand trails down his back from the base of his neck to ass. All his nerves light up, muscles spasming under the gentle contact. He writhes more, and a swift smack comes down on his ass suddenly. He grunts in surprise, that hot bolt of desire fizzling into something more tingly spreading throughout his body.  

 You tap the crop along his ass and his thighs in a percussive beat, not too hard, just warming up the area. Han feels you pause for a second before another smack comes down where his thigh meets his ass. His hips jerk forward, and he mewls at the sting of the leather. The pain abates to a glow, like his skin is electrified yet sedate. He can feel his cock throbbing underneath him, his hips slowly grinding into the bench. 

Your hand rests on the small of his back, caressing the area lightly as another bolt of hot arousal burns through him. 

 “Only two spanks in and you’re already humping the bench?” 

Han can only whine in response. 

You lean down towards his face again, your scent enveloping him. His eyebrows knit together as he meets your gaze, begging for more. 

“Color?" 

“GREEN!” he moans, hips gyrating again. 

You smile again, eyes crinkling at the corners. His enthusiasm is palpable, filling the small room. You stand and continue with the riding crop, tapping, pausing, then SMACK! The way you change the length of time you take to pause makes his mouth water, never knowing exactly when the crop will come down on him again, no way to anticipate it.  

You get up and walk to the other side of the room, picking up a new toy. When you return, you run the suede of the flogger down his spine, he sighs as his body convulses. Saliva pools under his cheek where it dribbles out of his mouth, already too far gone to notice or care. You pick up the flogger off his skin and start to spin it in circles, slow at first then picking up speed, the tails coming into light contact with his lower back, ass, and thighs. The rhythmic impact against his skin both sharp and soothing with your expert guidance. Every few spins, you put more force into the downswing, slapping the suede against his skin, the extra sting has Han keening. He can’t control his hips anymore, they are thrusting against the bench again, searching for any friction to heighten the sensation he’s feeling against his body. His back, ass, and thighs feel like they’re radiating from this stimulation. His skin feels like it’s buzzing all over, he’s outside his own mind, beginning to put that trust in your capable hands.  

The flogging stops and your hand rests on the small of his back again and his hips still. Han feels like he’s floating 3 feet above where his body is chained down. The one thing grounding him at this moment is the warmth of your hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back. Every small caress you give him makes him feel like an instrument and you’re plucking his strings, making his skin sing. He can barely hear you, too wrapped up in his own mind, but he can hear your voice cooing over him. Your face is down by his again, checking in on him.  

“Color?” 

“G-greeeeeeen...” he moans out, a dopey smile stretching across his face.  

“Good boy,” you say, and press another small kiss to his forehead. Before he can lift his head to try and chase your lips, you are crossing the room once again. Both hands are full when you return - one holds a leather leash with a bolt snap hook and the other a small red candle and lighter. “Look what I found just for you.” 

The leash is black with a lining of red around the perimeter and three small hearts embossed on the looped handle. The candle is a vibrant red color with hardened wax drips running down the sides. You set those on the ground while your hands move to the front of the bench by Han’s head, lifting him gently by the chin and looking in his eyes. Your fingers massage his scalp, the points of your nails sending shivers down his spine. 

“We’re gonna play with a new leash, little stray. And some wax. Color?” 

The way he’s looking at you like you’re shining down above him, he’s speechless at your calm demeanor. The only giveaway that you’re in any way affected is a blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks. 

“Green,” he whispers, breathlessly. He’s panting at just the sight of you, the only thing in his vision he can focus on. You smile down at him, leaning forward until your lips brush against his. He must be imagining it, but you look almost shy for a moment.  

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Please-” he groans, trying to reach up from his secured arms. You slant your lips on his, giving him a sweet, slow kiss. He responds in kind, opening his mouth, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entry. The mood shifts from a chaste moment to something more primal as your tongues meet, sliding over one another. He hopes you can taste the desperation on his tongue. 

Your finger curls around the ring of his collar again, pulling it against his skin, reminding him of who’s in control. You pull away from him, sighing. You pull his collar and spin it around his neck gently, making sure the ring is positioned facing his back. Han lets out a whimper, almost nuzzling into your hand. You pick up the leash on the floor and clip the bolt snap onto the ring. Giving the leash a quick tug to ensure it’s connected; he whines at the pulling sensation. 

You come back into his vision and lock eyes with him. “Little stray, I’m going to be pulling on this leash while we play, okay? If you’re not able to speak but you want me to stop, I want you to knock against the wood of the bench. Can you do that for me?”  

He nods, bouncing his head against the leather of the bench, using his knuckles to rap against the wood under one of his cuffs.  

“Good. Color?” 

“Green,” he giggles, blushing under your tender care. 

You stand, hands pushing your skirt up to hook your thumbs on your panties. Han’s jaw drops open as your panties drop to the floor in front of him. You step out of them gingerly and grab the wax candle and lighter off the floor. Your body moves around him and all he can hear is the flicking sound of the lighter. He gasps as he feels you move to straddle him on the bench, settling your weight against his leather clad ass. He screws his eyes shut, feeling his sensitive cock leak at the new pressure, trapped between his body and the bench. Your hand runs up his spine, nails scraping lightly over the delicate skin. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean forward to clasp the leash attached to his collar. You run the leather down his spine, tracing over the red blossoming on his flesh from the flogging.  

The leash pulls against his collar, and he cranes back as far as he can, keening into your touch. You’re not even pulling tight, the barest amount of tension in the leash makes him feel possessed. It’s a feeling of being owned, overpowered, at the beck and call of a master. His hips shudder under you as he presses his ass against your cunt, drawing a moan from your throat. The flash of joy radiates through him at the noise you make.  

“Good boy,” you growl at him.  

The first sting comes from the wax dripping on his back, muscles tensing at the rush of sharp pain. Another hot drip of wax makes him lurch forward with a squeak as more fall against his spine. He’s dizzy from concentrating, trying to anticipate where the next drop will fall and being surprised every time. Han’s breaths are fast and shallow as he focuses on keeping his hips still underneath you, trying to be good for you. 

It’s a lot more difficult when you start slowly thrusting against him with each drop of wax from the candle, bearing down on his hips, making his constricted leaking cock rub against the bench below him. Your hips start to move at a pace matching the low bass thudding in the other room. He moans at your movement, the pressure and the friction almost too much, but just enough to send him into a spiral.  

Your hand on the leash pulls against his neck as you ride your hips against his ass, your wetness slipping over the leather of his jeans. The seam of his pants rubs up against your folds just right to drive you absolutely insane. With each drop of wax, each tug, each thrust, Han meets your cunt with a cry as he pushes back against your clit. You buck against him with fervor, chasing your own high, slamming his hips, dripping wax on his back and dripping your own essence on his leather.  

His moans pitch up, your hips forcing his to thrust against the leather bench, the recoil of him pushing his ass back up towards you, the rhythm you two find together like this has him rocketing towards his release. Above him, you’re grunting out praise, “Such a fucking good boy, fuck.” Soon you are lost in your own pleasure, just staccato moans pouring out of you, so sweet in Han’s ears. 

Your body stops moving above him for a split second as you cry out, your orgasm shuddering through you, hips jerking forward, riding it out on the seam of his pants. Han hears you whining, sounding nearly as fucked out as he does. As you whimper, you pull the leash tight, Han slams his eyes shut as he lets out a strangled moan, leaning into the feeling of the blood flow being constricted. Your hips still rocking against him, you’re more focused on the pressure and rhythm of his hips, watching his body bounce against yours. The aftershocks of your orgasm shake through you still, panting hard. 

“Are you going to cum for me, sweet little stray?”   

Han is outside his own mind, like his soul is trying to leave while his neglected cock slides against the leather of pants, the sensation of being caught between your cunt and the bench has him jerking his hips faster. The tip of his cock is so sensitive, he feels every thrust of your hips in his entire body, his only tether to the earth at this moment is you and the way you’re fucking him into a bench.  

His eyes roll to the back of his head as he cums, his back arching, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he feels the warm spurts make a mess of the leather caging his hard cock. He can’t breathe, not from the pressure of the collar on his neck, but from the sheer ecstasy pulsing through his body. It’s never felt like this before, his skin erupts in goosebumps as the feeling ricochets around his chest. The pain and the euphoria are unmatched as he collapses back down the bench, spent and reeling in the moment.  

“Good boy,” you say in his ear as you slide off his body and onto your wobbly legs. Han is still floating in the air, barely aware of what’s going on around him. You crouch down to undo his wrists and ankles from the cuffs, massaging the skin underneath gently, pressing small kisses to the sensitive skin. The buckle of his collar comes loose under your nimble fingers, and you ease it off his neck. You place your hand in his to see if he squeezes it, but all he can manage is a twitch of his fingers and a groan. While he’s still fucked out in this prone position, you grab some aloe gel and tenderly apply some to his back, peeling away the wax drippings from his skin. You massage his reddening skin, and murmur soft praises at him as he comes back into his body.  

Han moves to get up off the bench, you hold out an arm to steady him. His whole body is wobbly, so you steer him towards the couch. You sit with him and wrap him up in your arms. He collapses back into you, his head resting against your shoulder, feeling warm and safe in your embrace. Pressing little kisses to his neck and head, you rub little circles into his scalp while he comes down.  

His words are a little slurred while he tries to form a sentence. “I n-never...” he starts, pausing to take a deep breath. “I never expected it to be that good.” 

You smile into his hair, pressing slow kisses into him, running your hands down his arms. “It can be even better than that.” 

He turns his head to look at you, “how?” 

“Sweetie, your pants didn’t even come off.” 

His eyes bug out of his head, and he looks down. “I made... a mess.” 

You grab his face and chuckle, “So did I, you got me more riled up than I expected.” 

“I did?” 

“Yeah, I never do what I just did with clients at the club. You were just so responsive, all those little noises, and SUCH a good listener.” You say this with adoration brimming in your voice. You kiss him again, this time unhurried, lingering, just to learn his shape a little better. The bass still thumps through the walls as Han’s heart thumps against you. You pull back from the kiss, searching his eyes, “How are you feeling?” 

“Good. So relaxed,” he says as he stretches, sitting up. 

“Good. Go grab my panties for me.” 

~~~ 

The back of the wooden cafe chair was rubbing up against his tender back, reminding Han of his wild weekend. Each little twinge made him think of you, of the noises you made, the control you wielded. The flashbacks to that night flip through his head as his hands toy with the lid of his coffee, just like your fingers toyed with the ring on his collar. The memory of the way you yanked on his collar is vivid as he spaces out, his chest constricting. He reaches up to brush his hand over his throat, imagining it’s your hand that grazes over his skin. 

“Still back in the dungeon, huh?” Chris says as he slumps down in the chair opposite, a knowing smirk on his face. Han jolts out of the memory, a blush painting his cheeks.  

“Sorta,” he says, with a coy smile playing at his lips. 

“Well, you certainly got Y/n’s attention,” Chris muses. “She told me to give you this.” 

Chris slides a black business card across the table. It’s simple, the card stock heavy, the letters a bright red, a little heart embossed in the corner.  

“She says that if you’re interested, she wants to meet with you again. Something about adopting a stray?” 

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #han jisung #jisung #jisung x reader #han jisung x you #smut #smut writing #kpop smut

[everlasting-rainfall]

-One Piece Crossing: Familial Yandere G8-

Okay so I wrote this as a bit of self comfort as Navarone aka the G8 Arc has always been a huge source of comfort for me but let me start this by saying this

NOTHING IN THIS IS MEANT TO BE ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL

FAMILIAL YANDERE’S ARE PEOPLE WHO VIEW YOU AS THEIR CHILD IN A YANDERE SENSE, THERE IS NO ROMANTIC LOVE TOWARDS YOU HERE

IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THERE IS THEN THERE IS NOT

THE REASON I DON’T WANT MINORS INTERACTING WITH THIS IS BECAUSE ALTHOUGH THERE IS NO ROMANTIC/SEXUAL CONTENT. I STILL DO NOT WANT THEM HERE!

Okay now that that’s out of the way, let’s get into it

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Sentient Video Games, Stalking, Delusions, Writing Reminiscent of Old Creepypasta, Being Treated like a Baby, Gaslighting (?), Force Feeding, Kidnapping, Off Camera Beating, Execution Mention

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

Okay so let’s say that you wound up being the next person to come across the One Piece Crossing game like let’s say you found it at some kind of garage sale for five dollars or it was gifted to you by a friend or something

You booted the game up and played around with your characters design for a bit before setting the time and date then picking an island which is when you were finally given the choice between pirates which was a red box or marines which was a blue box

After thinking for a bit, you choose Marines and a villager select popped up where it would be two characters standing next to each other against the background of what looked like a harbor with their names underneath them

You hit random multiple times trying to find ones you would like and after what felt like hours of getting the same guy in a white shirt and a marine hat, you finally found someone you liked which was a red headed man with a big bushy mustache and a blonde dressed in what looked like a chef’s uniform

Their names were Jonathan and Jessica, they even had a line connecting their name boxes with a tiny box in the middle saying “Married!”

They seemed nice so you picked them and off you went to the island, the tutorial was alright if not pretty cozy as you and your villagers went around placing what would become your new homes and once your home was placed

You went inside and placed what little furniture your character had on them before going upstairs to save, you saw the phone up there and messed around with the settings menu that it provided before flicking Immersive Interactions on

After that, you saved the game and put it down for the day to do other things and once you picked it back up. The interactions really were much different as it almost felt like you were playing with actual people

Jessica although she was short tempered was somewhat kind with you and praised you for eating everything on your plate when her husband struggled with eating his broccoli and carrots. She would always actively come looking for your character too if she had found out that you hadn’t eaten or it was a meal time

Jonathan was more chill as he would always be in the most random spots like did you just find a small beach that you didn’t know was there? Jonathan found it first and is currently fishing there. He would always offer for you to join him as well to just sit down and relax until it was time for you to go

There was also one time as well when Jessica had come to tell you both that she had prepared food only for you to suddenly get a bite on your characters fishing rod, you weren’t expecting that to happen during a scripted event so it caught you off guard and next thing that you knew. Your character was being pulled into the ocean with a splash

It wasn’t long before your character resurfaced and a notification box popped up with your character looking embarrassed telling you “I hope that fish likes its new fishing rod because it’s gone now”. The two of them then helped your character out and you all had a small bit of a laugh about it

Eventually a few others moved onto the island having been invited by Jonathan and Jessica, they were people like Drake. Kobato. Mekao. A few others too like a few people known as Shinpachi and Tom

The island was filling out quite well in all honesty and although some of the characters could be a little irritating like Drake shouting at you when he saw you trying to decorate claiming that you shouldn’t be dragging things around like that by yourself as you could hurt yourself or when Mekao got blackout drunk on the beach and you had to clean up the bottles that were left behind when Kobato dragged him off telling him that he needs to cut that out for his health

It was still honestly quite fun despite it and honestly you wouldn’t trade these villagers for the world

Something surprising did happen at one point though and it was Jonathan coming to ask you a question, he was asking you if you would like to move in with him and Jessica as the island was getting bigger by the day and it could help with space

You figured it would be nice to have more decorating space so you selected yes and a little animation of your character moving their things into their home played out. You had a room in their home and they told you that they were happy to have you but gave you a few rules

It was after that when you saved your game and put it down for the day and let’s say that life got busy, you weren’t able to play anymore and when you did have time. You usually found yourself playing something else

However when you eventually returned back to One Piece Crossing, your character was asleep but they weren’t in their bed and instead looked like they were in an infirmary at a hospital or something. Your character had quite the bed head and from what you could see, there were nurses wandering around

That was weird but before you could make your character get up, a few notifications popped up telling you some things

“Jonathan has taken over the island while you’ve been away” “Jonathan has chosen to change the islands name to Navarone” “The islanders have changed the layout of Navarone” among other things but those were the ones that most interested you until…

“Jonathan and Jessica have chosen to adopt you”

That was weird to say the least, you didn’t expect there to be some kind of adoption mechanic like there was a relationship mechanic in the game to determine who was family and who was dating but you didn’t expect it to go as far as adoption

It was a pleasant surprise but in all honesty, you kind of wished that the game would have given you an option to reject it but oh well… You decided to internally blame the developers for not giving the player a say in this sort of thing…

So once the notifications were finished telling you about everything that had happened, you pressed a button to make your character get out of bed only for you to be rushed by the nurses who quickly laid you back down

They were surprised at your sudden awakening and urged you to stay in bed as you had just come out of a comatose state, you were in no state to be up and moving around until they gave you a clean bill of health

So your character was forced to stay in the bed and was shouted at by the nurses whenever you tried to get up, you almost turned the game back off until Kobato appeared and sat down next to your bed telling you how happy they all were that you were finally awake

Proceed to her asking your character all sorts of questions about how they were feeling after having been asleep for so long, you chose from the multiple options provided to you and honestly kinda felt like you were dealing with Mr. Resetti but a much calmer version of him who just wanted to make sure that you were okay

Once you were finally free from the medical area, you went wandering around only to find that the entire island wasn’t just different. It was barely recognizable, you felt like you were in some kind of military base instead of your cozy and fun little island

Honestly as well, you found yourself getting lost quite a few times… But no matter because as frustrating as it was, you were going to take the islands control back from him if the game would allow it

So when you finally reached where he was after lots and lots of wandering, you had your character enter through the double doors and found him talking to Drake about something only for both of them to go dead quiet when you saw them

You barely had any time to go over to Jonathan yourself as he suddenly rushed your character and hugged you tight saying that he was so happy that you were awake, he was even kissing your characters cheeks in a very detailed scene that looked straight out of an anime

Jonathan proceeded to have your character sit on his lap like a small child while he continued his conversation with Drake, you tried to initiate a conversation with him multiple times only to be told “Don’t interrupt”, “You can tell me when I’m done talking to Drake”, and “Sweetheart, Drake is talking…”

It was this every single time until you finally managed to get into a conversation with him only to find that there was no option for control of the island to be taken back from him which was annoying so you said out loud

“I don’t play for a few days and I lose control of the island permanently? That’s such shit…”

Only for Jonathan to respond directly to what you had said like he had heard you…

“I wouldn’t say it was few days, sweetheart… More like you were asleep for a few months… And besides why would you be in charge of Navarone? That’s a grown up’s job…”

Of course you absolutely froze upon hearing that as it was incredibly shocking to hear the character actually respond to what you had said… So once you had saved the game after getting away from Jonathan and turned it off

You checked the manual to see if the game used the microphone but there wasn’t a manual… You were thoroughly creeped out by this and you couldn’t find any information online about the game

Being very creeped out, you decided to put the game back down for a while and just play something else until while you were scrolling through the internet, you saw something that you just had to see for yourself as someone had made an absolutely great story island

So of course to go and see it, you would have to boot up your game again… It couldn’t be that bad, right? It was probably just coincidence and besides… It was probably worth it… Right…?

Debating for an while on whether or not to do it, you eventually came to the conclusion that “It’s just a game, it can’t do anything to me” so you booted it up and found that it was pretty late in game

You were in a room that looked like it was meant for a little kid to sleep in with a bit of medical equipment around you, there were a small amount of notifications to get through but you had your character hop off the bed and off you went

After changing them out of the cutesy blue pajama set with the ocean theming, you knew where the harbor was due to having left the island before Jonathan took it over but you had a feeling that this was going to be difficult with how Jonathan rearranged everything when it became Navarone

There were so many more villagers now too like a lot of those bland looking characters with the same white shirts and marine hats, they almost looked like they were patrolling too as they went about what they were doing

Regardless you kept wandering until you found the harbor which had be renamed to Dock 88 instead of the name that you had chosen for it. Luckily the NPC in charge of it was still there and you were able to input the code for that island you wanted to visit

It took a minute to register causing Mekao to notice you, he started to approach you only for the game to finally register the code as valid and the screen faded to black only for you to hear through the speakers as actual speaking and not the typical little sounds that were made when the islanders spoke

“Hey!! Come back!! That’s kidnapping, you bastards!!”

When the screen faded back in, you were in the typical loading screen for traveling to a new island as your character stood at the front of a boat with a smile on their face as the NPC stood behind them with their arms crossed

The little box at the bottom read your destination and you were excited if not a little weirded out by what had happened until your eyes widened when suddenly the fun little loading screen was interrupted when a cannonball landed in the water next to the boat

Suddenly the NPC’s boat was being raided by the islanders, the NPC’s were all being arrested and chaos came through your speakers as you watched as your character was grabbed and brought onto the ship that had pursued you

Drake was on board and he was shouting orders for the Marines to not let a single person get away but once he saw your character, he immediately switched up how he acted and started asking if you were alright

Saying that he knows how scary that must have been but its okay now and also that’s why you don’t talk to suspicious people

There was no chance for you to respond but soon the screen faded to black again and you were back at Navarone, you were barely two steps in before suddenly Jessica ran up to you looking absolutely panicked with her hair out of its usual bun style

Immediately she embraced you in a tight hug saying that she was so happy that you were okay and asking if those people had hurt you at all She looked to be on the absolute verge of tears like hearing that you had gotten “kidnapped” was some of the worst news that she could have ever been given

Like genuinely, I think you could tell her that her husband died and she would still take the news of you getting kidnapped worse

Soon enough, Jonathan arrived at the dock having hopped on a boat to give pursuit just like Drake had and he swiftly jumped off of it before it had even stopped moving and landed on the ground

He rushed up to you and made it so that the hug that Jessica was giving your character was likely even tighter, the man looked so relieved and he planted a big kiss on your characters cheek that for some reason… You felt like you could feel like you could feel the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin

“It’s okay, sweetheart… It’s okay now… You’re home… You’re safe…”

On the screen, you could seem all of the travel NPC’s being led off of a boat in handcuffs but they all looked really beaten up like someone had personally taken the time to completely brutalize all of them

It made you cringe with how bad their beatings looked, they looked like they would need a doctor with how they were going but Drake just shouted at them that they were going away for a long time and for his men to lock them all up

You knew that they didn’t deserve that so remembering that the game reacted to your voice, you tried to speak up…

“Hey, go easy on them! They don’t deserve that!”

“What are you talking about? Of course they do… They kidnapped you, sweetheart… In fact, they deserve much worse…”

“No, they don’t! I went with them willingly! They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I think you may have hit your head at some point… You didn’t go with them… All the dock workers reported that you were kidnapped…”

“I’m telling you both! I wasn’t kidnapped! I put in a code to take me to another island that I wanted to see and they were taking me there!”

“Shhh… It’s okay… You don’t have to defend them… You’re here with us now… Back with Mom and Dad…”

“Could you quit acting like my parents and listen for fucks sake?!”

That last part, you said it out of frustration as they didn’t seem to be getting the hint that you were not kidnapped by the NPC’s but this seemed to deeply upset the two of them as they pulled back to look at you

The screen darkened ever so slightly and a chill went down your spine at this, you felt like you had messed something up deeply. You tried to press buttons after a minute of this but nothing happened so you tapped the screen and found your hand going through it

You felt like your wrist was grabbed and suddenly you were playing tug of war with whatever had you, you were fighting for your life as your heart raced in your chest but your fighting was no use as you wound up being pulled through the screen

Instead of landing on something hard, you found yourself landing in what felt like a hug which caused your heart to drop so you opened your eyes reluctantly

You were in the game being held by Jonathan and Jessica…

“We are your parents, sweetie… Let’s get you checked out at at infirmary…”

After that, you were taken away to the infirmary and looked over by Kobato who gave you a diagnosis of memory loss among a few other things that you didn’t really hear as when you were trying to shout that this wasn’t right

They ignored you like they couldn’t even hear you like there was barely even a glance in your direction from them

Jessica asked if there was any way that it could be helped but Kobato simply told them to remind you of how your life really is and to be patient

So after spending the night in Mama and Papa’s bed being cuddled in between them as they didn’t trust you to sleep in your bed anymore, you started trying to figure out how you could get out of this

When rifling through what was apparently your room and making a big mess to hopefully find something to send you home, you found yourself getting in trouble with Drake who scolded you for making such a big mess

You tried to basically enter hibernation in your bed of waking up and immediately going back to sleep but all that did was earn you a trip to the infirmary and Kobato telling you that doing that wasn’t healthy for you and you need to stop doing that

Part of you thought that you could potentially leave the game by getting out of Navarone so you attempted to stowaway on a ship that would be leaving soon only for Mekao to spot you and take you away from Dock 88 saying it was no place for someone like you

At some point you attempted to sneak into the jail to talk to the imprisoned NPC’s to see if they had a way for you to escape only to be unable to find them. When the Marines spotted you, they brought you right back to Jonathan who grounded you and told you that they had been sent off to be properly punished but you had a feeling that executed was the right word

And finally when you got so desperate to escape that you refused to eat anything even if it was your absolute most favorite food until they allowed you to escape, Jessica wasn’t having that at all as she started to force feed you all of your meals

With every passing day, it seemed like escape was getting further and further away from you as every single thing that you did was being stopped by someone

You tried to stay determined and hopeful that you could escape but it was starting to seem like there truly wasn’t one

No matter how hard you tried, you kept winding up in trouble with someone and no closer to freedom than where you had started so as much as being treated like you were a small child by the people who claimed to be your family

You started to give up…

What else could you do after all? It didn’t seem like there was a way out and besides all of these disapproving looks and punishments were starting to make you feel sad like you were sorry for upsetting them so much with how much you were trying to leave them

Guilt started to rise up inside of you and part of you wanted to make up for it so when Jonathan was heading out to fish, he stopped when he saw you standing in the doorway and he looked at you waiting for you to say something

“…Can I come with you… Dad?”

That was when Jonathan smiled and told you that you most certainly could as he took you by the hand and led you outside to watch him fish while sitting in his lap

Part of this felt very relaxing like one of the most comfortable experiences of your life, you even started to get a little sleepy as you leaned into him and started to drift off into a nap. You swore that you could even hear him start to hum to you

And once you were fast asleep against him, Jonathan gently pet your head with one hand knowing that you had completely accepted this as your reality now

You were his and Jessica’s child now, you were never from the real world and never had any family who wasn’t them You had always been from here from the day that you were born and you would stay here until the day that you died if that day ever came as no one seemed to age here

And he would ensure that you would believe you were always from here and that you simply forgot when you were kidnapped from them by those criminals

Not just him either… Jessica, Drake, Kobato, Mekao, All the Cooks, All the Marines, All the Dock Workers…

They were all family here and no one was going to let not just the newest recruit and Jonathan’s daughter escape

You were here forever and besides the save file was already locked away and the game was in the hands of someone new!

#minors dni #yandere #yandere one piece #read the trigger warnings #yandere male #yandere female #platonic yandere #familial yandere #Yandere G8

[wil-o-wispy]

The Wife, the Lover, and the Bastard Son - Part 4

Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (he'll be in the next part)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here)

Summary: Your past comes back to haunt you in more ways than you thought possible.

Contents: Major spoilers for RE6, canon typical violence/swearing, mentions of blood being drawn, improper use of a syringe as an improvised weapon, angsty Jake content, angsty plot content, descriptions of blood and violence, dialogue heavy chapter. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

a/n: Hey peeps. It's me ya boi. I regret nothing for the events that are about to unfold. Thanks for reading :)

w/c: 10.8k+

There is no feasible way out of the cell that you’re confined in. After an indiscernible amount of time being unconscious from the gas released in the specimen room, you woke up here. As far as prisons go, it’s not half bad; a spacious white chamber with a basic cot with white sheets in the middle of the room. In the corner across from it is a security camera with a red light. What makes this room different from your handful of previous kidnapping quarters, are the metal shutters to the right of the entrance to the room that takes up the entirety of the wall. Given the room you were in reminded you of chambers for infected test subjects, there was a likely chance you were being observed through the camera on the other side of the wall.

There’s a second difference as well. You woke up with the crook of your arm wrapped in gauze and a cotton swab. These people had drawn blood from you while you were knocked out. Probably to test if you were compatible for the new virus you’re sure they’re making.

All you can do is wait and see if you’re right.

You aren’t too worried about your involuntary confinement. Not yet anyway. These people evidently want you alive and in one piece. You’re not too sure if Jake would be given the same courtesy though. If he was as skilled as he said he was, you would be willing to bet he was already long gone. If that boy had any sense, he would be trying to find a radio right now to signal for help.

You don’t have to wait too long with your thoughts. A short time after, you hear white noise hum from the speaker and the familiar higher pitched male voice echoes around the chamber.

“Good day, Dr. Wesker.” The voice is the same one you heard from the thin silhouetted man when you first arrived. He speaks in a slow, deliberate tone.

“Hello.” You answer back looking directly into the camera, keeping your tone neutral.

“I understand you had a little -detour- on the way to your room.”

“I did.”

“I would encourage you not to indulge in your wanderlust again, but you strike me as the type to take that as a challenge.”

You narrow your eyes at the camera and purse your lips. You don’t want to give anything away that would confirm the man’s assumption is correct. When you continue to be silent, the man speaks again.

“Forgive me, we haven’t made a proper introduction. I am Youju, one of the head researchers for Neo Umbrella. Welcome to my facility.”

You can’t find it in you to even care who he is. It doesn’t matter in the grand scope of things. As far as you’re concerned, Umbrella (or Neo Umbrella) was still just a terrorist organization that made bioorganic weapons. You don’t care about the specifics of what that means unless it’s relevant to preventing an outbreak.

“Will you just cut to the chase?”

There’s a pause from the speaker. “Pardon?”

You sigh and cross your arms, still looking into the camera. “I’ve done this song and dance multiple times and I have no patience for the dramatics anymore. What do you want?”

Silence from the speaker. You let out an annoyed huff.

“Do you have a new virus you want to test out on me? An old one you revamped? I’ve been proposed with job offers before but I’m letting you know right now-”

“No, no miss. Your purpose here today is much more… personal.”

That can’t be good.

“So I’m here for revenge? You’re going to have to specify. Albert had a lot of enemies, and I couldn’t be bothered to keep up with them.”

“You misunderstand what I mean when I say personal.” You can hear an underlying tone of deviousness in that statement. Youju continues.

“Tell me doctor, how have I gone all these years without knowing Albert Wesker had a son?”

You stand in stunned silence. Wesker? A father? The thought makes you want to laugh in disbelief. The only thing that stops you from doing so is the confidence in Youju’s voice.

What kind of ploy is this?

Is he trying to get you to admit a secret you don’t even have? You spend the next few moments thinking over what the man had just said, when you hear him tap the mic, which results in your ears being assaulted with high pitched feedback and you reflexively covering your ears.

“I’m not a patient man, doctor. Answer me.” Youju’s words are drawn out with a mocking, sing-song voice.

You lower your hands and stare directly into the camera, making a conscious effort to keep your tone even. “We never had any kids.”

Silence falls over the chamber again. Long enough that you think Youju must have left. However, you hear his voice again, but this time you hear a smile in his words.

“… well this is quite an interesting development. I have someone I want to introduce you to. Mrs. Wesker.”

The tone in his voice clearly indicates he doesn’t believe you.

A deep metallic click sounds through the chamber before the metal shutters next to you begin to raise themselves up, groaning their whole journey to the ceiling. As they ascend, the shutters reveal a window to another room. Although surprisingly, there aren’t any Neo Umbrella personnel behind the glass. Instead, the panels reveal an identical chamber to yours, except it’s Jake on the other side of the glass sitting on the bed and leaning on his knees. The bottoms of his pants are covered in dark mud, a part of his sleeve looks scorched, and there’s a sizeable gash on his temple that had scabbed over next to his buzzed ginger hair. Blood that has long since dried had trickled down next to the large diagonal scar on the left side of his face. In other words, he’s much worse for wear than the last time you saw him. Whoever came into the room to investigate the alarm really did a number on him.

You see a discarded bundle of gauze with a slightly bloody cotton ball in Jake’s room. These people took blood from him too.

That grating voice over the loudspeaker interrupts your thoughts.

“Mr. Muller! I hope you’re finding your accommodations acceptable.”

Acceptable was a stretch, but at least your rooms had the bare necessities. You can’t say the same for your past accommodations with other organizations.

Jake shrugs and leans back, taking a look around the room. You hear his voice come from a hidden speaker near the window.

“Not bad, asshole. Feels like I’m shacking up at the Shitz Carlton.”

You would have smiled at that if that nagging sense of familiarity from earlier wasn’t still wracking your brain.

Where have I seen him before?

Youju quips back with that knowing tone over the speaker. “Even when corned in the lion’s den, you still have something witty to bite back with. Just like your father so I’m told.”

Jake’s carefree demeanor grows more rigid; shoulders squared, clenched jaw and sharpened expression. The man’s family is a sensitive subject.

“Where are my manners? Dr. Wesker have you had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Muller?”

It was hard to tell, but you could have sworn you saw Jake perk up at hearing your dreaded last name. You stare at him a moment longer.

“Can’t say I have before today.”

“Really? Are you certain?” The way Youju says that makes it seems like he’s trying to make you doubt an obvious answer to a trivia question. You stare at Jake, and he stares back, unblinking.

You turn back towards the camera.

“I would remember the scar. I haven’t met this man.”

“Interesting. Why don’t you look closer?”

The man from the speaker obviously wants to get some sort of point across to you, so you humor him. Sighing and shifting your weight, you turn to Jake. You look past the grime, the evidence of fights lost, and modern clothes.

You look at his face, his eyes…

You stop breathing.

You thought about what Youju had said before. Albert Wesker had a son.

Your mind races with a cacophony of scrambled thoughts over the next few seconds.

How did these people figure out Wesker had a son before you did? He looks like him. How did he go this long without being discovered? It’s likely Jake’s blood is special like Albert’s, so they’d want a promising candidate for virus injections. Who is his mother?

You don’t know where it comes from in the moment, but all you can picture is a displeased Albert holding a ginger headed baby, with his nice work shirt covered in spit up while another woman takes a picture and laughs.

It starts as a giggle, but the longer you think about this scenario, the more ridiculous the thought becomes and the harder it becomes to keep your shoulders still.

“So tell me doctor, what are your thoughts?” Youju replies smugly, waiting for your response.

You can’t help it. You start laughing like an insane woman. Jake’s existence was the cherry on top of an already stressful situation. Your body is exhausted from the journey here, you’re still processing the emotional whiplash from seeing and destroying the Uroboros sample, you’re mentally and emotionally done with everything that could possibly relate to Wesker and now you find out he has a son that isn’t yours? You just find the whole situation so absurd that you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

It's clear that Youju doesn’t find your reaction amusing. His tone is cold and controlled when he speaks next. “Enlighten me Wesker, what could possibly be so funny?”

When you finally catch your breath, you look at the camera again with tears in your eyes from laughing so hard.

“This… establishment is really scraping the bottom of the barrel for bright and promising imbeciles, aren’t they?”

Silence, then the sound of a throat being cleared.

“Oh really? And why is that?”

Youju’s voice is flat. Controlled. You had struck something sensitive, and you intend to use it to your advantage to get a moment alone with Jake.

“Because this is ridiculous! Albert Wesker? A father- his father? Are we talking about the same Wesker?”

“His blood sample suggests otherwise-”

“And how do you know that exactly?”

Silence.

You let out a deranged cackle.

“I think I understand now. You found this stranger helping me in the middle of your ocean getaway, you thought he looked like Wesker, and your only plausible conclusion was that he has to be my son. So you’re comparing his DNA to mine because Wesker’s genome is impossible to find. Is that it?”

Youju struggles to stay composed under a guise of false confidence.

“Well we… any reputable institution would confirm hypotheses by… conducting their own independent tests and gathering their samples directly from the source.”

You hum and step a little closer to the camera.

“You know, Umbrella used to check their homework before going through the trouble of kidnapping persons of interest. Just goes to show that the copy is always going to be a letdown from the original.” You made sure to look straight into the camera when you say that, and it has the desired effect.

“You…I-I’ll know you’re lying one way or another soon Wesker!” Unlike before, there was no trace of confident humor. Instead, the voice spits out the words with prideful fury.

“Then by all means, do it. Waste everyone’s time. Hell, I’ll even volunteer for another blood sample when it comes back negative.”

It’s silent for a long time until the white noise from the speaker cuts out and all you can hear is the fluorescent lights above you.

You hear a muffled voice on the other side of the glass. “Hey Wesker!” Youju must have switched off the window speaker.

You let out a sharp breath through your nose. You turn to the window. Jake stands there, forearm resting on the glass above his head and observing you like a slide under a microscope. “Like I told you before, just Doc is fine.” You respond, annoyed.

You look up at the camera and see its beady red light still trained on you. You look between the camera and Jake. No use being stealthy. You walk over to the window with a determined look on your face, already in problem solving mode.

“We both know that test is going to come back negative.”

“Uh huh… and?” Jake responds, unimpressed.

“Personnel are going to come back eventually for another sample. Make it count and make it hurt although based on your current state-” You gesture to Jakes muddy and burnt clothes. “-your technique needs some work.”

Jake scowls. “My ‘technique’ is just fine.”

“Then prove me wrong.”

It doesn’t take too long for your assumption to come true. After a long stretch of time that you try to fill by pacing your room, you hear several sets of footsteps outside the room. A moment later, you see two men in lab coats accompanied by one guard armed with an electric baton and one armed with a pistol enter Jake’s room on the other side of the glass. 

Jake deals with them in a similar quick and efficient fashion to what you saw before when you first met him, except his moves are much more violent and incensed. Nothing like the cool and confident rescuer you first thought him to be.

The men in lab coats gesture for Jake to roll up his sleeve. Jake complies and one of the men puts a band on his upper arm to cut off blood flow. When the other man goes to do the blood draw, Jake grabs the syringe and plunges it into the man’s eye, causing to scream in pain and stumble back. The other scientist is frozen in fear as the two guards spring into action. The guard with the baton reaches Jake first, but he’s prepared to duck under the guard’s wide swing and he easily kicks the guard’s feet out from under him in one graceful move. As soon as the guard’s body hits the floor, Jake wastes no time grabbing the back of his head and chin and forcing his neck to an unnatural angle, immediately making the guard go limp.

The other guard is yelling something in that unfamiliar language while pointing his gun at Jake, but Jake doesn’t even acknowledge it as he charges at him with full speed. The guard is only able to shoot once, barely missing his shot, before Jake unleashes a flurry of blows, his skill in hand-to-hand combat evident in the way he dodges all the guard’s attempts at defense with ease.

While Jake is busy with the other guard, the remaining scientist finally comes to his senses and begins to run out of the room. But by the time he makes it to the door of Jake’s chamber, Jake has already disarmed and shot the other guard in the head. By the time the scientist opens the door, Jake has already lined his shot up perfectly and shoots the scientist dead in his tracks, blood leaking from the bullet wound on the back of his head.

The sight in the other room is grisly, but nothing you’re not already used to from the lifestyle you’ve lived. Once the last scientist is taken care of, you knock on the window to get Jake’s attention. He turns to you, breathing heavily and ripping off the rubber armband from earlier.

“Grab all their keycards! Can’t hurt to have them just in case.”

Jake nods and grabs the keycards from all the bodies, then exits the room. Shortly after, there’s a ping from your door and it opens to reveal Jake on the other side of it.

“Let me see?” You request, briskly walking outside the room and holding out your hand for the keycards. Jake plops them in your hand, looking at you closely. You ignore it and flip through the keycards, trying to discern security level but failing because the only difference between the two are the colors; red for the scientists and black for the guards. You halve them and give one of each back to Jake, which he pockets. He’s still holding the pistol he got from the guard at his side.

“Guess we’ll find out which have higher clearance when the time comes.”

Jake is still looking at you with that analyzing expression. “So you-” Jake is interrupted by an ear piercing alarm and the room is bathed in a foreboding red light.

“Time to move!” Jake grabs your upper arm before you can protest and runs out a door and down the hallway, half dragging you behind him while you struggle to keep up with his pace. You don’t know where you’re running to and Jake doesn’t appear to know either. You both keep running until you reach a four-way hallway where the alarm isn’t as loud and the lights are normal. Jake pauses, taking a moment before deciding where to run. You take the opportunity to yank your arm back, rubbing away the sting of Jake’s harsh grip.

“Wait, why aren’t there any guards? Or people?” You say, not quite sure where to go. Maybe it’s residual memories from working at Umbrella, but seeing the nearly identical hallways so empty is setting off alarm bells in your head.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Jake replies, irritated, taking a few steps to look down one of the hallways trying to decide where to go while he holds his pistol defensively, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

“There’s no people! You don’t find that weird?”

“We’ve got bigger problems right now!” Jake snaps, looking at you with a cold stare. Not a second later, the ear-piercing alarm cries overhead and the lights flick to red.

“We’re going left.” Jake says, running down the left hallway with you tailing right behind him. As you’re running, you notice the grating on the floor.

You realize it’s like the flooring in the specimen room, and suddenly more details about this place make sense.

There’re no people around because they use the knockout gas as a security measure.

The guards wear gas masks so they don’t lose consciousness during breaches.

The alarms and lights warn employees to get to a safe place or avoid the area.

Unfortunately, you put all of this together in the middle of the hallway when the security doors at both ends light up red, rise up from the floor, and close with loud metallic clicks. You hear loud hissing from below you, and you realize with dreaded clarity that the hallway is starting to fill up with gas.

You quickly scan the hallway and see a door with a red marking on it like the one on the scientist keycard.

“Red door on your right! Move it!” You command, already running to the door, keycard in hand.

You don’t need to tell Jake twice. Jake wastes no time dashing into the suggested room once you scan the card. You follow Jake into the room right on his heels. The second you’re through the threshold of the door, you scan the keycard to close the door and engage the emergency lock, emergency protocols drilled into your head from your time at Umbrella taking over. The door beeps and hisses shut just in time to cut off the gas from invading the room you and Jake just entered. The room appears to be some kind of office with several desks around the room. The alarm on the other side of the door is barely heard in this room. You’re safe. For now.

You take a shaky and labored breath while leaning against the door, trying to get your bearings.

Too close.

Your break is quickly interrupted by an accusatory comment from Jake. “You knew him well, huh?”

You stay silent and finally look at Jake. His expression is a cocktail of anger and frustration, even as he’s trying to catch his breath. You glance at Jake’s hand by his side; he’s gripping his pistol tightly and his face is grim and cold. It doesn’t help that you’re looking at Jake with an exasperated and annoyed look.

“You of all people should know why I don’t freely give out my last name.”

You give Jake a ‘what the fuck are you doing’ look and Jake tightens his grip on his pistol as he lifts it a few inches like he’s thinking about aiming it. A few seconds pass and Jake takes a deep breath as he sheathes the pistol.

“Fair enough. But I have questions.”

You let out a crazed laugh and start to feverishly pace the room, still in disbelief at the sudden appearance of your husband’s bastard child. “I’m sure you do! I’ve sure as hell got some!” Your tone comes off as angry, but in reality you’re frustrated.

“I’m not too happy he’s my dad either lady!”

“That’s not- ugh. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just-” You take a breath and try to relax your shoulders, so you don’t snap at Jake again. “The B.S.A.A. and I have a deal. I tell them everything I know, and I help their scientists deal with bioterrorism. In exchange, I’m supposed to get protection and they keep me in the loop. Simple right? But then-” You stop pacing and gesture to Jake. “-I get kidnapped, again, and I find out my dead husband has a whole ass… grown… child! In their organization! That’s a pretty major development if you ask me!”

You stop pacing the room and plop down in a chair and put your head in your hands, then run your hands through your hair. What else aren’t the B.S.A.A telling you? What isn’t Chris telling you? Did he know about this? He has to. You haven’t done anything to your knowledge to warrant them keeping something this big from you. Did they think you’d not take the news well? Take it out on Jake? Leak the information out of misplaced anger for Albert being with another woman?

“I don’t care what kind of bullshit deal you’ve got with the Bioterrorism Boy Scouts. I’ve got questions and I think considering everything, I deserve some fucking answers.” Jake’s steely look from the chamber is trained directly on you.

“You-” You stop. You’re about to tell him now isn’t the time and that you both need to prioritize finding a radio to call for help and come up with an exit plan, but you don’t. You can’t deny that you want to know more about Jake. He’s rightfully demanding answers about a father he presumably never knew. You know the B.S.A.A hasn’t been forthcoming about new information to you, so they probably haven’t disclosed much to Jake. You also know they won’t be too pleased about you spilling top secret intel about Albert to his son.

“You’re right. He’s your dad, you deserve to know. You didn’t hear this from me, okay? I don’t need more reasons for B.S.A.A.’s finest to dislike me.”

Jake silently looks at you, then nods his head. “Deal.”

You nod back. “Alright. You first.”

Jake leans against the wall, looking at you with a serious expression. “What kind of man was Albert Wesker?”

You look at him, confused. “I’m assuming you already know what kind of man he was.”

“I do. I’ve heard a hell of a lot about my old man, but not from the woman who knew him best. What kind of man was he?”

“An intelligent psychopath with a god complex.” You pause. “Well... the god complex came later. But still.”

“Intelligent? That’s not what I heard.”

“What did you hear then?”

“That he was crazy and he tried to destroy the world.” Jakes voice drips with disdain.

“Crazy and intelligent aren’t mutually exclusive traits. Are you positive that these people didn’t know who you were before they tested your blood?”

Even with everything that had just happened, you still couldn’t wrap your head around why you were brought here. To your knowledge, Neo Umbrella didn’t know Jake existed before an hour ago, let alone know that he was Albert’s son. How they knew he was Albert’s son is still unclear to you since his genome is highly classified information. The man on the speaker said your purpose here was personal but didn’t give any indication that it was related to revenge. What did he mean by that? How does this all connect?

“Hundred percent. If he was like that, why’d you marry him then?” Jake’s tone is accusatory, and a scowl that eerily reminds you of Albert adorns his face.

You’re annoyed with the one-word answer and his tone, but you keep your feelings to yourself. You know Jake has complicated feelings when it comes to his father, and he’s dead. You’re the next best thing when it comes to closure. After a moment you calmly and neutrally respond to Jakes question.

“When I first met him, I thought he was a very different man. Sure, he was stoic, cold and all business at the Umbrella Labs, but with me he was romantic, charismatic, and thoughtful." You feel like Jake’s gaze is piercing into your soul, so you look away and stare at the ground instead. “Three years I thought that. Then the mansion incident happened, and everything changed for the worse.”

“Romantic? Hmph. Yeah sure…”

You frown and let out a resigned sigh, shoulders slumping in the process, and you respond in a tired tone. “Has there ever been anyone in your life that you trusted with your whole being and they ended up being someone you didn’t even recognize?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jake cross his arms and scowl become more prominent. Another sensitive subject. You move on.

“He was unfathomably good at making you believe he was someone else. He did it with me. He did it with his S.T.A.R.S. squad at R.P.D. He even did it to Umbrella. In the end, he was just a power-starved monster.”

“R.P.D? He was a cop too?”

You turn your head back towards Jake in surprise. You would have thought that Albert’s previous jobs were easy pieces of information to get ahold of, but then again, Jake may have not cared enough to know. Jake’s expression is still unreadable apart from his voice dripping with contempt as he asked that question. You keep your answer clinical and to the point. “Yeah. He was a scientific prodigy and worked at Umbrella as a researcher really young. Then one of his projects stalled and he became an Umbrella spy and worked in the U.S. Army and then became the captain of the Rescue Service at the police station. After that: bioterrorist.”

You stop and wait for any follow up questions. When Jake only continues to stare you down, you ask your next question.

“Who knows that he’s your father?”

“Couple of guys in the B.S.A.A. and a handful of government agents. Everyone else who knew is dead. What happened after the Mansion Incident? Between you two? There has to be more to that story.” Jakes expression grows darker and more serious.

The thought crosses your mind that you should lie about how you felt, but you have a feeling that you needed to be open with Jake. He deserves the truth, no matter how unpleasant the answer will be.

“I was devastated. When what was left of his team returned from that mansion, I simply didn't want to believe it. I didn't even know he worked for the R.P.D. before that day, and they’re telling me he led his team to die at a mansion in the mountains with a secret Umbrella lab I didn’t know existed? The whole thing sounded crazy." You stop and choose your next words delicately before continuing.

"You have to understand that I loved him at the time. I was in denial. I was mourning. I didn't know he survived the mansion until the Racoon City incident. He could have let me die in Racoon when everything when to shit but he didn't. Instead, he sent a mercenary after me to rescue me and kept me with him until he was killed."

Jake gives you a long look when you finish, his eyes fixed and unblinking. You can tell he’s digesting your every word, as his jaw tenses and his knuckles whiten from the force of his fists clenching with his arms are still crossed.

“… so he saved you?”

His voice is icy, and there’s a dangerous edge to his tone that you’ve never heard before. Each word sounds like it’s taking great effort to force out. “Why?”

A pang of fear goes through you at his change of tone. You hit something sensitive, and you don’t even know what it is, which only makes you more nervous. “I don’t have a good answer for that.” Your voice comes out softer than you intend, but you do a good job of masking how intimidated you are by Jake in the moment. Logically, you know he’s probably not going to fly off the handle and do anything to you, but his eyes and expressions are so similar to Albert’s that it’s instinctively putting you on edge.

Unless Albert told you directly, knowing the inner workings of his mind was a challenging task even for you. You’d asked yourself that question and reflected on a possible answer countless times over the years, and each time you came to a slightly different conclusion. On the occasional day where you really missed your marriage before the Mansion Incident, you thought he may have been fond of you in some way. On days like this, your theories were a bit more realistic. You were a means to an end.

Either way, Jake’s eyes are boring into your soul as he’s waiting for you to answer his question.

“At the time, I thought it was because he loved me. But now-” You pause for a moment, desperately trying to gather your thoughts to present them in a way that won’t upset Jake further. “-I have two theories. Either he saw me as an asset with my virology knowledge and kept me close just in case, or he just saw me as something that was his. He almost always used possessives when he addressed me. My darling, my dear, my love. That kind of thing.”

Jake remains silent and his body language still has that edge to it like a cord dangerously close to snapping. You opt to ask a more neutral question.

“How long have you known about Wesker?”

“A year. So he saw you as an asset? You helped him with his plans?”

“No! Fuck no. He definitely wanted me to, but I refused every single time. I still looked at all the lab results and things the he left laying out to stay up to date on what he was planning, but I never gave him feedback.”

“If you refused, why the hell did he keep you around?” Another accusatory, but valid question. Albert wasn’t exactly the forgiving type if he didn’t get what he wanted.

“I think he thought he could wear me down or change my mind eventually. I work fast. I’m good at seeing patterns and remembering small details. My guess is that he didn’t want to get rid of me if there was the possibility of me being useful.” You catch yourself becoming slightly defensive, so you make a conscious effort to reel your emotions in before you ask Jake your question. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Edonia. If you were so against helping him, then why did you stay, huh?”

You’re starting to feel anger boil up in you.

“I was just happy to have my husband back at first! I tried leaving when I realized what he wanted to do. I really did. But by the time I took off the rose colored glasses, I’d seen too much and I was either locked up or he had someone babysitting me so I couldn’t run off. And Edonia? Really? That’s a long way from the U.S. Is that where your mom’s from?”

“Why do you care, huh?” Jake snaps at you, fire in his eyes and nostrils flaring.

You’re slightly taken aback with Jake’s combative response. “Because if anyone finds out she’s associated with Wesker in any way, she’s going to be in danger and needs protection.”

“Don’t need it. She’s dead.” Jake’s face holds no traces of relaxed cockiness like earlier. His expression has morphed into an explosive combination of wrath and pain. “And you know why? Because daddy dearest wasn’t there to pay for her medical bills. He walked out and didn’t fucking look back, yet she still acted like he was this exceptional man who could do no wrong.”

The atmosphere of the room is thick with tension. Even through Jake is a few feet away still leaning on the desk, you feel small and defenseless sitting in your office chair. You feel like the energy in the room could snap at any moment, so you keep your tone sympathetic, but firm.

“I’m sorry about your mom. But you need to believe me when I tell you that you are lucky he was never in your lives-“

“Lucky? That psychopath sent someone to a city that was tearing itself apart to save you but couldn’t send a damn check to save my mom?”

You’ve been patient throughout this whole exchange, and you were resigned to be Jake’s verbal punching bag. But suggesting Albert would have helped Jake’s mother without consequences? That’s the final straw that inevitably makes you lose your composure.

“Did you grow up feeling loved?” The question is sudden. Blurted without thinking of what could come after.

Jake’s angered expression morphs into confusion. “What?”

You know you’re playing with fire with this line of questioning, but you don’t see any other option that will be as effective. “Did your mother… tell you she loved you, make sure you had your coat before leaving the house? Hug you goodbye? Tell you bedtime stories?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Did she?” You don’t back down. You need to make him understand.

“Yeah! She did!”

You nodded. “Good! You wouldn’t have gotten that with Albert. Far from it!”

“Oh yeah? And why do you think that Doc?”

“Is that your question?”

“Answer it.” Jake spits, anger boiling to the surface.

“Do you know anything about Project W?”

You take the silence as a no and continue.

“Albert was a product of one of Oswald Spencer’s projects, founder of Umbrella, headed by Dr. William Wesker. It was a eugenics-based plan to create a race of more intelligent, more fit more whatever superhumans. Your father was essentially raised in a lab.”

You pause to make sure Jake is following your words and keep going.

“There were hundreds of kids in this program. When they were adults, Spencer weeded out a group of thirteen including your father. All of them were given the progenitor virus whether willingly or unknowingly, and only Albert and another woman I’ve never met survived. Albert was the only one who gained superhuman abilities.”

Jake is silent for a moment, then responds, “When you say willingly or unknowingly-”

“Some of these kids didn’t know they were in the program.”

Silence.

“That is where your father came from. You want to know what kind of man he was? He was opportunistic and manipulative. I have no doubt that he would have used you as a guinea pig just like he was. He would have framed it in a way that made it look like he was doing what was best for you too. If he had stayed in your life, you would have been living in a lab waiting for him to shove a needle in your vein as a bonding activity.”

More silence. Jake’s expression is unreadable, but he doesn’t appear angry like before. His eyebrows are scrunched together and he looks at the floor, deep in thought. 

“Jake?” You say, gently. He doesn’t respond.

“Jake. Please look at me.” You try again a little louder, and he turns his head to look at you, Albert’s - Jake’s - pale blue eyes look more understanding.

“Do you understand everything I just told you?”

“Yeah. I just-” Jake pauses. “I don’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that.”

You nod and give him a sympathetic look. “I know it doesn’t make it better, but I don’t think he knew you existed. He would have seen you as an asset and tried to find you otherwise.”

Jake doesn’t say anything, but he nods his head to let you know he heard you.

“Loving him came at a price. Be thankful for the anonymity you have.”

“What was your price?”

Everything.

“My future.” Jake looks at you with an eyebrow raised, so you continue. “Because of the relationship I had with him, it’s impossible to live a normal life. I’ve tried, but there will always be people trying to find me to recruit me or kill me because of that.” You say this off-handedly. You’ve become used to this kind of life to the point where happenings like this feel routine.

You and Jake sit in silence. Jake’s presence doesn’t emit that aura of anger anymore.

“That’s not fair to you.”

You give Jake a wry smile.

“It’s not fair that he’s your father. We can’t change the past. But we can try to make the future a bit less shitty.” You quip with a wry smile.

Jake chuckles a little at that comment, and his smirk finally returns.

“You’re not-” Jake stops, and you wait for him to finish, “-how I expected you to be.”

“…thanks?” You reply, not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

Jake snorts at your comment. “And uh… sorry I got heated for a minute there.”

You give Jake a dismissive wave. “Hey, it’s not the first time I’ve gotten my ass chewed out because of Wesker, and it’s not going to be the last. At least yours was warranted. You love your mom. I can’t fault you for that.”

“Appreciate it.” Jake replies, his smirk disappearing after a moment.

“I’ve got one more… personal question.” Jake looks at you, a dark intensity to his gaze.

You nod. ”Go for it. You deserve to know.”

“Do you have any children?” After a long, silent pause, Jake’s eyes lose their intensity and he gives you a small, sympathetic look.

You give Jake a sad smile. “No. No we… everything I said before about bonding activities? That’s not anecdotal. Just conjecture. Just-“ You gesture to Jake. “You.”

That I know of.

You clear your throat. “How old are you, by the way? I’m just curious-”

“You don’t need to finish that, I get it. Twenty.”

“You look older.”

“Mercenary work and a civil war will do that to ya.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.”

You shift in your seat from the awkward turn of events and say your thoughts out loud. “Let’s see…” You do the math in your head. “That would’ve been ’92. I met him in ’95. We got married in ’97...”

“And everything with Umbrella went to shit in ’98.” Jake finishes.

You feel the side of your mouth curl into a half smile. “You’ve done your homework.”

The alarm outside the room suddenly stops, and you hear a hissing noise from the hallway outside. You look to the door, then back at Jake. “I’ll tell you more later. We gotta get moving.”

You stand up from your chair and check the panel on the door. Still red. It’s going to take a minute or two for the gas to filter out of the hallway. You look over your shoulder at Jake.

“Did you end up finding that sample by the way? Or a way to contact the Tokyo base?”

Jake frowns and checks his pistol. “No, but I have a better idea of where those things could be.”

 You sigh and shake your head. “Better than nothing, I guess. Any theories?”

Jake shrugs. “Half this place used to be a military base and the other half an Umbrella lab that’s had some renovations. The old lab holds the old samples-”

“So the newer part of the lab should have the new samples and the military part should have a radio?”

Jake smirks and points at you. “If everything goes right, we’ll be outta here by sunset.”

The office door panel beeps and lights up green. You smile and slide the red card and the door swooshes open. You look back to Jake. “I like the sound of that. Let’s go.”

As you both walk back out into the hallway, you notice it’s still eerily empty. However, the security doors are still engaged at both ends of the hallway. You and Jake walk over to the door you were heading through before the lockdown. You scan the red keycard and it declines. You huff and scan the black keycard, and you hear the lock disengage and the security doors split open and return their respectful halves to the floor and ceiling. You look at the black keycard with a stern look as Jake walks though.

“Only guards can open security doors? That sounds like a shitshow waiting to happen.”

“You an expert on security now too? C’mon we’ve got a schedule to-”

Jake is cut off by a loud buzzer, followed by the security doors slamming shut so you and Jake are on opposite sides. Jake hurries up to the doors and looks at you through one of the small windows in the middle.

“What the hell? Try the card again maybe it’s a timer thing.”

You scan the black card again, but it returns an error message. You shake your head in annoyance, but then it turns into concern when you hear shouting and footsteps from the direction of the observation rooms you were held in.

“It’s giving me an error message. Try yours on that side!” You shout at Jake through the door.

You see Jake’s face as he scans the panel on his side but based on how Jake grits his teeth in frustration he’s probably not having any better luck than you. You hear shouting and footsteps growing louder. Jake notices and tries to pry open the security doors with his hands. You scan the red card again, but it also returns an error message.

“Shit! Jake, they know which cards we took and deactivated them. They’re no good!”

You throw down the cards and take a few steps back to get a better look at the hallway to find an alternate route or some structural weakness in the door arch, but you notice nothing. The sounds of guards shouting and running are getting even closer. Your only chance of getting out of here is Jake. He can’t be here when you’re ultimately discovered.

You hurry back up to one of the windows on the security door to shout at Jake. “You need to go, now!”

Jake ignores you and keeps looking for purchase on the door, but it’s too smooth to get a decent grip to pull it open.

“Jake!” You scold.

Jake pauses to look at you, scowling.

“They obviously want me alive I’ll be fine. You find that sample and radio for help. I’ll stall for as long as I can.”

Jake’s scowl on his face deepens as he tries to open the mechanical door again, but his efforts are fruitless. He finally slams a hand on the door and lets out an annoyed huff and looks back at you through the window.

“You’re sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

More yelling and bangs echo down the hall.

“More than likely, yes. Just be quick about it. I’d rather not be a lab rat if I can help it.”

Jake takes one more analyzing look at the door and gives you a curt nod, clearly not happy with the new set of circumstances.

“Don’t say anything that’ll piss em’ off more.”

“No promises, now go!”

You turn around at the sound of the opposite security door opening, and you hear Jake’s footsteps grow further and further before they disappear and are replaced with the stomping of a battalion of gas masked soldiers. A group of eight quickly block off your only exit and train their semi-automatic TMP’s on you. Seeing as you’re heavily outnumbered, you put your hands up in surrender.

As you do, a wiry man a little taller than you walks leisurely through the intimidating crowd of masked faces. He wears a suit under a pristine white lab coat and looks at you with cold eyes through a pair of square glasses.

“Where is Muller, Doctor?”

You recognize the lilting voice immediately. This is Youju. Your immediate impression is that he’s much too young to be the director of this facility. But then again, Umbrella is chock full of young prodigies. Time to buy Jake some time.

“I could care less about where he went. As I told you before, he’s not my son.”

“I see.” Youju walks a few steps past the line of guards towards you and looks at the mechanical door behind you, skeptical.

“Why stop here Dr. Wesker? Why this door?”

“Because your security system needs some work. It closed and it can’t be opened.” You reply, curtly.

“Then why didn’t you run?”

“I’ve been in enough scrapes to know when I’ve been backed into a corner.” It’s not a lie. Even though your main goal is to distract these people, you know when you’re beat. Especially when you have an overwhelming handful of guns trained on you.

Youju frowns. “You still haven’t answered my question. Where. Is. Muller?”

“I. Don’t. Know. We went our separate ways when it became convenient.” You reply condescendingly, already tired of answering Youju’s questions.

Youju narrows his eyes at you, calculating his response. “Very well then. Since you’re so keen on seeing what amenities this facility has to offer, allow me to give you a guided tour.”

“I’d rather go back to my room. I’ve had enough cardio for today.”

Youju waves his hand and the guards put their guns down, save for one who quickly positions himself behind you with his gun still aimed at your back. Youju gives you a chilling smile. “I must insist, Doctor.”

As Youju walks back through the crowd of guards, he announces one more command to the crowd of guards.

“Find the other one. Alive. Maim him if you must, but ensure he is brought to me in one piece.”

Not ten minutes later, Youju and his guard lead you deeper into the facility, seemingly with one destination in mind for your guided tour. Youju leads the way in front of you, while the soldier trails behind never once lowering his weapon. He seems to be leading you into the newly renovated parts of the lab. There are no windows into the many rooms you pass so you have no inkling of what could be going on behind closed doors, but Youju ignores all of them in favor of the main lab at the center of the facility.

He scans a white key card and a large lock disengages from the mechanism in the middle of the door, spinning until it’s completely free before the doors finally open to reveal another set of sliding doors. Youju scans the card again and enters with you and the soldier right behind him.

It's a room with several scientists checking over miscellaneous machines and monitors, as well as fridges with multiple different colored chemical substances. All of them periodically glance over their respective stations and into the observation chamber below through the window that takes up the entire expanse of the wall opposite the door. A handful of soldiers line the wall in the back of the room. Youju saunters in and stands by a monitor that flickers to show a different part of the facility every fifteen seconds or so. A microphone stands idly next to it. Youju trains his dark eyes on you, a barely noticeable sly smile on his face.

“Welcome to the inner sanctum, Doctor. I would like your thoughts on my latest and greatest project.”

You cross your arms defiantly and shift your weight with a bored expression on your face. “As I said before, I have no interest in any job you have to offer me.”

“I didn’t offer you employment. I only ask that you take a cursory look. I assure you, he will be of great interest to you.” Youju speaks in that same, know-it-all tone from when you were stuck in your quarters. Like he wants you to figure out his point.

Better yet, who’s ‘he?’

You roll your eyes and humor him.

You look over the consoles and into the chamber below. There are illuminated chambers filled with substances you don’t recognize and over a dozen machines tracking something you can’t discern from this distance. The cylindrical tank in the middle of the room is the focal point of the observation chamber. It glows with a foreboding orange light, illuminating the space in between itself and you. At first, you can’t tell what the tank holds with the light emanating from it shining in your eyes. When your eyes adjust to the light, one by one you notice features of the creature inside; you see the outline of a man. Then notice one of its arms is much longer and darker than the other. The scar tissue across its chest. Then, most devastatingly, disheveled, slicked back blonde hair.

Your heart drops and your annoyed expression shifts into something much more terrified.

“Where… that’s not…”

But it was. Behind the glass in the chamber below was the body of a mutated Albert Wesker floating in a liquid filled chamber. His chest and legs are overtaken by burnt scar tissue, but otherwise look about the same as the last time you saw him; although you don’t like to think about that series of events.

The bomber. The volcano. The helicopter that he almost pulled down into the lava with him. Any one of those scenarios could have easily ended with your death, the world ending or Uroboros in your arm. Not that the three were that different regarding the death part.

 The last time you saw Wesker, he had mutated into the monster he had become on the inside. His snake eyes glowed red, black Uroboros burst from beneath his skin around his eyes, worms of Uroboros completely overtook his chest and arms, which he could stretch to great lengths, and he was altogether consumed by rage. Rage against Chris for besting him once again, rage against himself for underestimating him, and you were certain rage against you for betraying him.

You stare blankly into the chamber as the reality of the situation sets in: Youju went to great lengths to find Albert. You didn’t know how he could have found him after so long, but you knew this man had to mine through volcanic rock at best and perform an underwater excavation of a volcano at worst to exhume him. Whatever he has planned, it can only spell doom for whatever unfortunate soul falls in Albert’s wake. Your body can’t bring itself to move, so you stand frozen by the console of the observation room overlooking the chamber Albert is in.

“The union of Wesker and Uroboros is truly a remarkable miracle of nature,” Youju says smugly, relishing in your shock.

All you can do in the moment is gape at your husband in horror.

“There’s nothing natural about this.” Your voice comes out small. Rattled. Nothing like how you planned when you stepped into this room.

“Natural? That’s a matter of perspective, Doctor. We are seeing evolution in real time.” Youju is enjoying your torment, but there is a pit forming in your stomach that is screaming for you to talk sense into him. You know in your bones that this is a bad idea, but you can’t articulate it into words that will break through to the Director. You knew men like him. He won’t listen until it’s too late, but you try anyway.

“Whatever you’re planning is not worth the consequences you’re going to reap from playing God.” You still stare at Wesker’s peaceful, mutated face.

“I assure you it will be. Your husband is an incredible case study. He was medically dead when we found him, but you know as well as I do that the dead don’t tend to stay that way for long in our profession. Uroboros preserved his brain and nervous system better than any modern medical instrument you or I could have hoped to have at our disposal.” Youju explains with pride.

“Weapon, DNA, or emotional blackmail?” You reply cooly, still staring at Wesker in the chamber below.

“Whichever has the highest bidder. Although I think the value of a subject like him transcends material wealth, so I’ll hold off on an auction for now. I have more pressing plans first.”

You break your gaze from Wesker’s body in the chamber and look at Youju with a cautious expression, curious as to what he means.

“We know his brain is showing activity, but he hasn’t woken up you see. All the regular avenues for breaking comatose states have been exhausted.”

Youju turns to the chamber and puts his hand on the window thoughtfully as he speaks.

“Sure, we could harvest his DNA and easily make our investment in excavating him a drop in the bucket. As you’ve said, his DNA is one in a trillion. But it’s not just his DNA that makes him unique, it’s his mind as well. He was- is- the greatest mind manufactured by man. By Oswald Spencer himself. What I would give to speak with him! To know his thoughts on my research. To continue where Spencer was forced to stop.”

The Director looks away from Wesker and back to you, with a giddy look you know all too well. It’s a dissecting look of a scientist attempting to peel away the mystery of an unsolved problem.

“But then one of my researchers had an interesting hypothesis. This is not a regular subject so normal avenues are more than likely going to prove fruitless. Perhaps Wesker needs a familiar face as an extra incentive to chat with us. Someone who knew him much more personally than anyone else. Someone like you. We’ve already tried recordings of your voice, and they’ve yielded positive results, but not the one’s we’re looking for.”

“The saying ‘you should never meet your heroes,’ definitely applies in this case. You need to quit while you’re ahead. You’re inviting nothing but trouble by indulging this fantasy.” You warn, unable to wipe the look of barely contained terror on your face.

Youju tilts his head and gives you a mocking pout.

“Awww… what’s wrong Dr. Wesker? I thought this would be a happy reunion for you. After all, you survived him. He respected your intellect. It’s not every day that a genius offers his lover a place beside him in a new world. And don’t deny it. I’ve seen the footage of him offering you Uroboros on multiple occasions. I’m not a betting man, but I’d say those weren’t the only times he tried to convince you.”  

“Director, you need to stop-”

“Not until I get what I want.” Youju’s gaze turns cold and he flips a switch on the console in front of you both. A red light above it switches to green. The guard behind you raises his gun to your head. Youju turns his face towards the microphone but keeps his eyes on you.

“Albert Wesker, you have a visitor. A personal visitor. Go ahead and say hello my dear.”

You avoid looking into the chamber and keep your mouth shut while staring down Youju. You would rather die than awaken that monster.

“Your wife is here to see you Dr. Wesker. Mrs. Doctor Wesker, if you know what’s good for you, please speak into the microphone.” The tone the Director uses reminds you of a car salesman; sleazy and said with a gritted smile. Attempting to get you to bend to his will no matter the cost if it gets you to sign the metaphorical dotted line.

When you keep your mouth shut, Youju motions to the guard behind you and you feel the cold steel of the muzzle of the gun on the back of your head. Your breath becomes unsteady, but you stay silent. He needs you. He wouldn’t kill you so quickly when he needs you. You’re sure of it.

“You know I’m not a patient man dear. Speak, or I will make you.” Youju spits out the warning, his patience already wearing thin.

You clench your jaw and stay silent. You fully intend to stay quiet, even though the urge to call Youju a dumb motherfucker is strong. You see a flicker on one of the cameras on Youju’s monitor. A figure. You weren’t going to pay it any mind, but even out of the corner of your eye you recognize the large scar on the side of Jake’s face.

Youju lets out an annoyed huff at your continued silence, currently unaware of Jake’s presence. “I wanted to avoid making this messy, but it seems you’ve left me with no other option.”

Youju turns around and starts to bend down towards a drawer below the monitor. You panic. Jake is your only hope in getting the B.S.A.A. here. You can’t let his stealth go to waste.

“Albert!” You spit out the name without thinking. You already feel sick to your stomach at your choice of action, but it has its intended effect immediately. Youju snaps his attention away from the monitor’s direction and back to you, then back to the chamber, then to a monitor off to the side that you now realize is displaying brainwave activity. His brainwave activity. You hadn’t noticed it before because the brainwaves were barely perceptible, only small mole hills on a nearly straight line. Now, like a rising tide, the red wave on the monitor grows in intensity along with your heartbeat.

Youju stares at the monitor with you in awe, then turns his attention to the chamber while speaking to you. “Go on. Tell him to wake up.”

“Albert dear?” You pause to take a shallow breath of air. The red wave rises higher on the monitor. “I need you to wake up.”

The more the red wave rises, the more animated the other scientists in the room become. Youju most of all. Everyone buzzes with excitement over their machines and data displaying on the screens, but all you can do is stare at Wesker in the chamber with a lump in your throat.

You have an idea on how to get the upper hand. It’s stupid, suicidal, and against everything your brain is telling you not to do, but if it works it’s an almost guaranteed way for these people to lock you in your room again until the B.S.A.A. can get here with proper reinforcements.

“Albert help me they have a gun to my head!”

Almost immediately, beeping sounds emanate from each and every machine in the room. One by one, every piece of machinery has warning lights on their displays and nervous chattering erupts from the scientists. The red wave on the brainwave monitor devolves into jittery valleys and peaks. You see Wesker in his water chamber twitching, and his peaceful face morph into an angered scowl that you know all too well.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Youju scolds as he switches off the microphone. He grabs your shoulder in a tight grip and walks you back closer to the door away from the window seemingly the only one not concerned with the sudden uptick in activity on the monitors and more peeved at your little stunt.

“That’s enough from you for now Doctor.” He turns his attention to the guard behind you. Take her back to-”

Youju’s command is interrupted by the sound of glass cracking and metal screeching in the chamber below. Youju’s eyes grow wide and he immediately rushes back over to the window. He turns his head to say something, but before he’s able to, a pipe breaks through the glass of the observation chamber and into Youju’s skull with so much force that blood splatters on you from across the room and you stumble to the floor in your shock.

All hell breaks loose. Some scientists scream, others duck and cover, a handful try and fail to open the door to the hallway, the soldier leaves your side and open fires on Wesker in the chamber along with the other ones in the room.

You can’t seem to escape from the bloodshed. No matter where you turn, more blood splashes across your clothes but you manage to keep your escape in mind: grab Youju’s white keycard to get out of the room. You do your best to block out the grisly sight of Youju’s head as you army crawl across the floor. The white keycard, now stained crimson in some places, hangs precariously from his belt. A black and blonde blur dives into the room from the chamber and the screams grow louder and more frightened. You grab the keycard and you crawl behind a large cabinet that got overturned in the chaos in the corner of the room and make yourself as small as possible by hugging your knees to your chest. You clutch the keycard for dear life.

Meanwhile, in the background, you hear Wesker spewing insults as he tears through the room.

“Ignorant cretins! Worthless, self-righteous chaff! Inferior good for nothing fools!”

Something in Wesker’s voice puts you on edge, and it has nothing to do with the fact he’s seething with rage or leaving a trail of blood and viscera and broken machinery in his wake. You can’t quite describe it, other than that it sounds wrong. The voice is Wesker’s, but the tone and intonation are just… off. Your Wesker spoke in a much sharper and eloquent manner. This voice is direct and garbled in some places.

In the moment, you don’t know which voice you’d prefer. You don’t have time to think on it when you feel a presence behind you. It’s only now that you realize the screams and cries of pain have gone silent. Your blood runs cold when you hear a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice in your ear that makes the hairs on your neck stand up.

“My dear? Oh, how I’ve missed you my sweet…”    

You freeze. His tone is uncannily gentle. He’s so close, you can feel Wesker’s breath on your ear and neck. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run, but it’s like Wesker’s words have you under a paralytic spell.            

“How dare they touch what’s not theirs…”

A wet, slimy and black tendril slowly makes its way into the corner of your vision and gingerly tucks a flyaway hair behind your ear. You can’t bring yourself to move.

You sense Wesker move his head closer to yours until you can feel the damp heat of him over your shoulder. Glass breaks on the other side of the room and he whips his head towards the sound. There’s one last scientist left. She’s trying to climb into the observation chamber, but she stepped on a piece of glass and now she’s gaping at Wesker in fear.

Wesker attacks her with the bloodlust of a wild animal, plunging his Uroboros arm into her chest and not stopping his assault until it reveals itself again when it pokes out through her mouth. She doesn’t even have a chance to scream. Only gurgle sounds of pain.

The grisly sight finally breaks the spell, and you bolt to the sliding doors and run the second the door registers Youju’s keycard.

You don’t stop when you hear Albert calling your name behind you.

You don’t stop when you see other guards and scientists coming out into the hallway to observe what caused such deafening, monstrous noises.  

You don’t stop when you hear more screaming and gunfire erupting behind you.

You have no destination in mind when the hallways become unrecognizable.

The only thing consuming your thoughts is the fact that your psychopathic husband is alive, and that you’ve doomed the world because you destroyed the only Uroboros sample in existence to stop him in a misguided attempt to save it.

a/n 2: How's that for angst? More juiciness in the next part :)

If you've made it this far THANK YOU and sorry for this part being long I thought it would ruin the flow to split it up into two parts.

Tag List: @killerwendigo

#resident evil fanfiction #chris redfield x reader #but not in this part (again) because MORE PLOT #no beta we die like men #albert wesker #no use of y/n #angst #chris redfield #jake muller #resident evil #resident evil 6 #resident evil 6 spoilers #The Wife the Lover and the Bastard Son #resident evil 5

[ofallthingsnasty]

I'm not into cucking/cheating at all, but with how cruel Doflamingo can be, it's definitely on the menu. For more context, see the family pet posts on my One Piece masterlist

tw. dehumanization, weird pet play metaphors, very unreliable narrator, minors dni

Although using the term 'cucking' is a reach, considering that you're just the family pet. You were never brought into this to gain him more than some lukewarm entertainment, weren't meant to do anything more than to waltz around and get trained, to amuse him and learn to love him unconditionally. (Although that part has been rather difficult to achieve, but he has resigned himself to it. Just like an ill-tempered little purse dog, you're cute when you're angry, when you gnash your blunt teeth at him and try to scratch at his chest when you don't want to be carried around anymore. Just a tiny apex predator thinking they have a chance against the other, bigger carnivore.) You're a living decoration, one with a personality. You'll be with him until either one of you dies, that's the commitment a pet requires and he'll gladly provide. But it ends there. How dare you pout when he surrounds himself with women, when he gets to rest on his laurels a little. How dare you scratch at the door when he's trying to fuck one, how dare you chew up their expensive purses when you finally give up and resign yourself to your fate. He'll have to lock you away if this continues, because you're gaining a little bit of a reputation and it doesn't do him any favors. He kicks you off his leg when you try it again, ignores the stunned woman right next to him that you were just interrupting with your yowling and asks you what your problem is. You at least have the decency to duck your head and look ashamed - and it finally clicks when you shuffle right back to that very leg that hauled you across the room. Oh, that's cute. Where did you get that sense of entitlement from, mutt? He says while he picks you up by the scruff of your neck. Do I look like I fuck my dog? Of course he has to train that attitude out of you, and quickly at that. A little time on your own in your crate does the trick. He gets to indulge freely and you get to learn something. Maybe he should consider getting you a companion, after all. Then again, that's also double the work. But really, haste makes waste and it's not like he has to decide right now. He tries to look at it from a brighter side as well: You've finally found some love for him within you, after all these years. It's a little misplaced for someone in your position but he can't help but be pleased with himself when he realizes how far you've come - from flea-ridden stray to spoiled little pet, jealous of him giving his rapt attentions to others.

#tw.pet play #tw.dark content #/doflamingo #/one piece #keep in mind that this is doffy's distorted pov. in reality you're just trying to save these poor women some misery #doflamingo x reader #the straw that breaks the camel's back is when you bother him while he's trying to chat up crocodile again because of course that fucker #takes you to the meetings AND THEN THAT GODDAMN CROC DARES TO SCRATCH YOU BEHIND THE EARS #he's livid alright. how dare crocodile ignore him in favor of some fat little chihuahua. hose baths. hose baths for a million years #also 'chew up their purses' yeah yeah that's doffy vision in reality you're going through those to find something to escape with oof

[freckledbastard]

ohhhhhhhh my god they're so cuuuuuuuute

#one piece #opspoilers #monkey d. luffy #i want the bottom right to put on my desk #was trying to search for g5 content on Twitter wasnt THAT a mistake #the tag is full of people arguing over one piece vs naaaruto vs draaagon ball #i couldn't be bothered changing the keyboard for the asterisk so you get that instead lol #did see these little guys though #so it's not all bad

[toytulini]

god I know this is like The Wrong Stance on AI. I know its not about whether the art is Real and Human or If It Has A Soul and how a lot of the arguments against it are the same bullshit arguments people made against digital art like I Know. I Knowwww. but god, I'm really sorry, not to post like one of those annoying poetry bloggers I cant stand (yall are valid, live your truth, theres nothing wrong with what you post I'm just a petty bitch who hates poetry. unless I dont hate it.)

But theres just something about the way AI art will almost certainly never be able to mimic the exact way my pencil leaves an indentation in the paper, the way some of the lines I can never fully erase cause I pressed too hard, theyll have to at least train them to draw with a physical pencil first, and sure, they could train it to draw with a pencil and even erase the exact same piece I drew, line for line, on a piece of paper with a robot arm powered by AI, but they can't replicate. idk. the lineage of lefty bitches in my family, and the way I grew up going through school with my entire left arm silver with graphite, from doodling on my schoolwork. not yet anyway. but I guess I do live for the day we make the ai sentient enough that we can traumatize it by giving it homework after kneecapping its executive functions so it copes by drawing a big tiddy lobster monster. sure

#toy txt post #reblogs OFF i dont trust yall to be normal with this one i do NOT want it getting notes #i posted part of this before in a chat to a friend but im feeling it again. so #i havent drawn my big tiddy lobster bitch in awhile i should draw her again #also yea SORRY im sure this is The Wrong Feeling To Have About AI but also sometimes im a little grateful that i dont think my style is #smth a lot of the ppl coding ai to make art find to be worth trying to replicate except maybe as like a fake progress shot on a piece #which is smth i used to be really insecure about. how unfinished all my art looks bc it isnt to the point i cant fucking watch #like speedpaints and shit bc i just start feeling stupidly insecure about all the points in the video where I Would Have Stopped and been #like. im not touching it anymore i dont want to ruin it #and ive been insecure about my inability to really do digital art with like a stylus and shit like the way i do it with a pencil #and i know that is just me needing to Practice it but being too frustrated by it #anyway i know its just a Tool and its Fine and the problem is the art theft and the labor problems of it but liiiiiiike #i just. #im sure there will be unique things and usages of ai as a tool and i genuinely hope that ppl can figure out a way to make one that isnr #isnt* just full of stolen content bc theres unique fuckin shit about like digital art programs u can write stupid poetry that you hate #about it. or stupid poetry that i hate. cos im the poetry hater. listen. i cant stress this enough: its fine. youre fine. keep posting your #poetry and reblogging shit that speaks to you. im just a Bitch okay Ignore Me #i should go draw bokrae like. eating a computer about this #the real reason for that graphics card shortage was bokrae ate them all when she was in the mood for a crunchy snack

[anoddopal]

Bun-Bun Silva’s first day on the job- as the official caretaker of the bananawani that surround Rain Dinners!

Bun appreciates the big reptiles with an enthusiasm that knows no bounds.

Do you think the boss man will notice? 👀

#I’m trying to force myself to be okay with sharing my sketches #like it’s okay man they’re not supposed to be prefer they are SKETCHES!! #my scanner washed out a lot of the finer pencil details but oh well #lookit this little weirdo. getting to work with apex predators for a living! wowza! #the gators are 🤨 at first but within a week bun will be swimming with them and taking naps on their backs #anywho I’m going to great more lore + world building pieces for my sona! #my art #S/I: Bun-Bun Silva #self insert content #self insert art #self insert #one piece self insert #my s/i #s/i art #sketch