#And then I’ll continue the cycle until the day I die (or until I get off tumblr again)

[skhardwarevers1]

is everything progressively getting worse or am I just tired and need to go to sleep

[abyssruler]

TROPES

ft. jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!reader

JING YUAN - reincarnation

They say the Arbiter General of the Luofu only takes a lover every few decades, each one doomed to end in the tragedy that befalls that of a love between a short-life species and a long-life one. It’s widely speculated why the famed general chooses to continue taking short-life species for lovers, knowing the ending that would come about such a union. Jing Yuan cares not for idle gossip, save for the fact that people spread misinformation about him taking multiple lovers, but he can hardly tell everyone that he has only had one lover throughout his centuries of life. It’s just that you always happen to die far too soon for his liking. He fears sometimes, during those first few years after your death, that you’ll never come back, that one day he’ll wake up and realize that hundreds of years have passed without you. But you never fail to appear decades later with a smile on your lips and an apology on your tongue, soothing years’ worth of worries with a few measly words. Sorry, Yuan, I’ll be sure to live longer this time.

DAN HENG - soulmates

The Imbibitor Lunae was not only tasked to bear the responsibility of being the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, he was also destined for a love that spanned beyond lifetimes. Dan Heng knows of the story between the previous incarnations of you and the Imbibitor Lunae. Reincarnating at the same time, falling in love, and repeating it all over again in a never ending cycle that Dan Heng had been sure to end—that was, until he met you. Jing Yuan told him of your decision to forcefully reincarnate as well after Dan Feng’s crime, so it stands to reason that you shouldn’t feel anything for Dan Heng at all, what with this incarnation of yours having never met him in this lifetime. And yet, you keep looking at him with such softness, something like nostalgia in the tone of your voice as you spoke with him, that he can’t help but feel as though he, like his previous incarnations before him, can do nothing but fall into that never-ending cycle of love and being loved.

BLADE/YINGXING - time travel

Yingxing thinks you’re strange. Not in a bad way, of course, only that your mannerisms and way of conduct when it comes to him and his companions is odd. He’s caught you almost calling Dan Feng the wrong name, Dan He-something. You keep demanding Jing Yuan to spar with you for what you dubbed was a ‘rematch’, though Yingxing has no recollection of any instances of you and Jing Yuan fighting before. But it all pales in comparison to the way you act with him. You’re overly familiar, smiling and talking to him as though you’ve known him for years instead of a single month after he discovered you wounded on an alley with a broken blade. He still remembers the look of relief on your face when he crouched in front of you in concern. Blade, Kafka’s gonna kill me, this is the fiftieth sword I broke this month, was all you said before passing out. Despite the oddity of your first meeting, he found himself getting close to you, drawn in by your smile and your laugh and the tender way you looked at him. He imagined spending what remained of his life with you, but you disappeared a day before he was supposed to confess his feelings. It isn’t until many years later, when Elio is introducing the newest member of the Stellaron Hunters, that Blade connects the dots amidst his fractured memory. And it isn’t until another few years that you confirm his suspicions. Blade, you won’t believe what I just went through—or rather, when!

[thenightfolknetwork]

Greetings and salutations! Most people writing in say that it’s their first time doing so. I admit, that isn’t quite the case for me. I sent in a letter back in 1942, asking about whether or not I should medically transition—though of course the terminology was a bit different then.

I admit, I don’t remember the specifics of your response, but whatever it was, within twelve months I was taking testosterone pills. And I’ve been on HRT since then! It’ll be eighty years come January. I suppose I’m what you might call an elder in the community, though I certainly don’t look it.

That’s sort of why that I’m writing to you again. As you know, most genuses age getting older, but some age getting younger. My genus, whatever it is, does a combination of the two. I aged normally from when I was born til when I was 73. At that point, I died, spent about a day and a half decomposing, a day and a half un-decomposing, and then popped up out of my casket! My relatives were… surprised, to say the least. I think we all were. Regardless, I grew younger at the same rate until I was seven years and four months old, and then boomeranged and started growing older again. I’m currently in my third repeat of this cycle, putting me at about 375.

I don’t mind it, honestly. I know that a lot of folks who grow younger tend to dislike it, for very understandable reasons—being patronized by someone a fifteenth of your age is quite an experience. But aside from the condescension and not always being able to reach the top shelf, I think it’s pretty fun! Nothing beats hide-and-seek as a nine year old, and when I’m in the de-aging half of life, it’s always a relief to get my 30-year-old knees back.

There is another aspect to it, though. However my body ages, it de-ages in the exact same way, no more and no less. For example, let’s say I get a tattoo when I’m 27 years and two days old, while aging up. I’ll have that tattoo through when I die, and all the way back down to when I’m 27 years and 3 days old. It’ll disappear sometime during the following day, and by the time I’m 27 years and one day old, it’ll be like I never got it done. It’ll pop up again the next time I’m that age, but for those 40-ish years, I just won’t have it.

And attempts to change by body while I’m growing younger all vanish after the day—I’ve become very well-versed in wigs for this reason. I can change my body while aging up again (I don’t choose the tattoo example lightly; someday I’ll figure out a system that prevents me from getting overlapping ones), but it's a rather long wait.

Still, it’s primarily just a nuisance. I’ve had plenty of time to figure out workarounds and roundabouts. However. I’m almost 34 right now, and have about 14 months until I hit the date I first took testosterone. My boy-thday, if you will. Ahem. Anyway. For the past few years, I’ve been slowly but surely getting a body closer to the one I had when I started medically transitioning.

I’ve tried continuing to take T, consulting with other people who grow younger, even contracting time travelers to see what they could do, all to no avail. When these 14 months are up, I’ll have a form indistinguishable from the one I was so desperate to escape. From then, it’ll be about 20 years until I’ll have even a little-kid sort of androgyny again.

I have lived through this period in my life before. I’ve lived through it on five separate occasions. I will be alright. But every time, it hurts. Quite a lot. And I fear that these upcoming two decades will hurt even more, since I’ll know what it’s like to live without that underlying sense of constant pain.

I’m not exactly sure what I’m asking here, maybe you can tell me what my question is, but, um. Do you have any advice?

Thank you so much for writing in, reader. It's always lovely to hear from people who have found my advice helpful in the past, and I hope I can offer you the same comfort and support you felt in 1942.

An important thing to remember here is that, no matter what stage of life your body is at, it is still your body. To be clear: a trans body. Your physical appearance may seem to be resetting, but your life experience is not wiped out by each new cycle. You carry with you all your past experiences, and all your current perspectives.

You may or may not consider yourself to have been male during your first adolescence. The way we frame our own histories naturally varies from person to person, and not everyone retroactively identifies their younger self in the same way they identify in the present.

But regardless of how you perceive that earlier self, your current self is undoubtedly transgender. That doesn't change just because your body does. When your dysphoria starts to rear its head, hold onto that. Your body does not define your gender, and your identity is valid no matter what you look like.

Of course, you still need to find ways to manage that dysphoria when it happens. I'm sure you're well aware of your options for temporary, daily management of your appearance through wigs, gender affirming clothing, and so on. You might also consider applying a glamour to yourself to help your outward appearance more closely match your inner self.

If you're not a practitioner yourself, you can either use ready-made glamours or hire a practitioner to craft one to your own specifications. Even off-the-rack glamours can be expensive, however, so you may want to save this option for special occasions rather than daily use.

Beyond that, your best defences against the anguish of gender dysphoria are good mental and emotional health, and a supportive community. Be sure to practise regular self-care (real self-care, not the type invented to sell face masks and scented candles) and lean on your loved ones as much as you need to during this difficult period.

Finally, remember: your body is not the enemy here. You deserve to be treated with gentleness, love and kindness, and this extends to your physical self, too. Try to develop a practice of mindfulness and active gratitude, checking in with your body regularly and taking note of all the joys you can experience as a physical being, from enjoying the cold wind on your cheeks or the smell of clean bedding, to the delights of good sex, delicious food, or a hot shower after a long day.

This is a difficult time of your life, and you have my sympathy. But I don't believe it has to be a source of “constant pain”. Treat yourself kindly, let others support you, and know that no matter what the world perceives, you know who you are, and nobody can take that away from you.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[stonerskinny]

my weight is up from the morning. lol.

someone sh00t me i cannot deal with this.

i found out the other day that i owe another $24k to residential on top of the $30k i already owe them, and the $15k i owe outpatient, and the $3k i owe the ambulance company…and it goes on and on and on.

lmao wait that’s so funny. it doesn’t even matter if i lose all the weight because im just gonna die anyway because one day these fucking companies are going to come for me in fucking court or some shit and i’m just gonna try to off myself and get sent to the hospital where i’ll rack up even more debt and then that cycle will just continue until my fucking heart gives out.

why am i still here!!!!!!!!!!!!

[fractured-legacies]

Imprudent, Chapter 2, Arrivals

Prologue | Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Arrivals

All communication bands are completely silent. Optical survey of the planetary surface shows significant anomalies in comparison with archival data. These include orbital infrastructure that is apparently missing, urban areas that are reduced or missing entirely, and significant erosion and geological activity on the planetary surface.

The causes for these are unknown, but due to our limited assets and resources, we are maintaining a low emissions profile and engaging in passive observation only. In the meanwhile, our attempts to determine the cause of our failed transit continue.

~oOo~

Raavi ava Laargan

Rolling out of bed, I managed to fight back my reflex for a yawn, and held my Breath in. The air in my lungs seemed to burn, but it only took a few seconds before I managed to grab the cut quartz crystal die I had placed on my bedside and Breathed out into it.

As the crystal glowed with a muted green-yellow tone, the burning in my lungs vanished as I took a deep breath of fresh air. I went over to the small tray of sand and used the dedicated dowel to smooth it out before drawing a simple quadrant into the grains.

“Work,” I pointed to the first quadrant, “People,” the second, “Personal,” the third, “and Other,” for the fourth. I held the quartz, cut into a simple six-sided cube, in my cupped hands. I shook it a few times and then asked my question. “Am I going to have a good day today?”

I tossed the die into the tray, where it bounced a few times, leaking green-yellow Breath as it went, until it landed on the line between “Work” and “Other”. I leaned in, and frowned.

“Well, that’s not good.” The face of the crystal die showed the symbol for Danger, Be Warned. And it wasn’t like I could ask it another question either, not until I next slept.

Putting the tray and the crystal die aside with some trepidation, I instead turned to my waking routine. After half a month with no sunrise or sunset at all to set a sleep cycle to, I’d settled into eight to nine hours asleep and about thirty-two awake. That was about average for an overwinterer, so I was rested and refreshed and ready to face the world.

As I went into the washroom to clean up, I gave the die and the tray a final glance.

At least… I hoped I was ready.

Half an hour later, I was cleaned, dressed, and munching on a slice of buttered bread while looking out through the window. Winter was here in earnest, and while I had seen snow before—I remembered vividly when I’d been twelve, we’d held the Sundown Feast in the middle of a blizzard, with the awnings creaking from the weight of the snow—seeing it like this, with endless flakes coming down giving the whole world a soft ethereal glow was something new.

“I need to keep reminding myself that this is your first overwinter,” Emuund’s voice came from behind me. “I was like that for my first overwinter too. But you’ll come to hate the snow by the time the sun rises, trust me.”

“Heh. Well, for the moment, I’m watching it,” I said, not turning away from the window. It was beautiful. White and pure, like Breath made manifest…

“I’m just hoping I get some clear skies at some point,” Emuund said, yawning; our sleep cycles had not matched up in the end. “I’m planning to collaborate with the Astronomical Institute for some observations.”

I shrugged. “Well, keep an eye on the weather, and maybe you’ll get lucky.” Sure, there was a constant wind blowing in from the south during the winter—just as there was a constant wind that blew from the north during the summer—but that didn’t mean that clouds were constant.

“Well, we’ve got months left. I’m sure I’ll get a chance.” He yawned again. “I’m off to bed. Don’t burn down the house.”

I snorted, and got ready to go to work. Boots, vest, coat, hood, gloves, and scarf all went on in layers; with the ever-present winds blowing outside, I needed to be well-insulated, even for the relatively short walk.

I was halfway to the ironworks when I heard a commotion coming from down one of the side streets, and went to investigate. “Hello?”

“Who’s there!?” came a call through the blowing snow.

“Raavi ava Laargan!” I shouted back. “What’s going on?” I turned the corner and found a few of the overwinterers standing alert. They had their crossbows cocked but not pointed, and there were two people dressed in battered coats standing a few yards away, towards the outskirts of town.

“Found these two squatting—”

“We only just arrived,” said the taller one, in a deep woman’s voice.

“Then preparing to squat—”

“We were just passing through and have no intention of staying where we’re not wanted,” she said. She had some kind of accent I didn’t recognize, but that didn’t mean much. I wasn’t exactly well-traveled.

I cocked an eyebrow and looked between the other overwinterers and the two travelers. “What are you doing here?”

“Raavi, don’t listen to them—”

“I am a simple traveling penitent, and this is my ward.” She motioned to the second figure, who was about my height under their cloak. “We mean no harm.”

“They’re a pair of vagabonds,” said one of the overwinterers suspiciously. “Probably criminals turned out and exiled.”

“They’re two people. Are you really going to just throw them out into the snow?” I demanded, before turning back to the pair. “You can stay in my house at least until you’ve warmed up and had something to eat.”

“Raavi—!”

“They’re my guests now, and if you want to make a complaint about it, take it up with the mayor,” I said tartly.

They snorted and moved away. “If they slit your throat when you’re asleep, don’t come crying to me!”

I gave an answering snort, just as loud and as obnoxious as I could make it—and given that I was a teenaged boy, I felt pretty proud of my ability in that regard, making the second cloaked figure snicker. I turned to them. “Come with me?” I said. “I’m on my way to work, but if you want to warm up there before heading to my house, I think we can make that work.”

“I accept your hospitality,” said the older woman. “Come, Zoy. Time for us to get out of the cold.”

“Huzzah,” said Zoy—her voice was even more accented, but she was undoubtedly a woman—and started moving lightly through the snow.

I led them up the street towards the ironworks and glassworks. I got them settled in the visitor’s room at the ironworks, getting them some water and a little food from one of the cupboards.

“Thank you,” said the penitent, taking off her cloak. She was a bit taller than me, with dark black hair, streaked with white, tied up into a severe bun. “My name is Stylio. I appreciate your acceptance of us.”

“Of course! I’m not going to force anyone to stay out there in winter!” I said, and then blinked as Zoy took off her own cloak. With that gone, she turned out to be shorter than me, with brilliant but short golden hair.

My mouth went dry for a few reasons, but she ignored me and reached over to the aged sausage, cheese slices, and crackers that was on the platter that I’d brought out. “Well, that’s good,” she said, taking a few slices and tossing them in her mouth as her ear-length hair dangled. “‘Preciate it.”

“My ward’s irreverence aside, she is right. Thank you. Now, I believe you have some work to do?” Stylio said. “We shall be fine here for now.”

“You sure?” I asked, trying to push down my reactions. She was pretty, maybe about my age or a bit older… and, I had to remind myself, her having short hair could be for any number of reasons. They were foreign, or it could have been an accident that made the hair burn or get cut…

“Yes. I would hate for you, as our host, to have problems with your employment,” Stylio said, reaching over and taking a slice of bread. Nibbling on it, she said, “Your kindness is much appreciated but we will not melt nor vanish into the snows. You have my word.”

I glanced at Zoy, and felt my cheeks heat as she looked back at me, taking a bite of another piece of sausage as she raised an eyebrow. “Right, right. Um… until later?”

“Go do your work, dear host. We aren’t going back out into the storms, have no worries.”

Cheeks still burning, I turned and went back over to the sandpit. There, I found my coworkers already hard at work, iron ladles in hand, and saw Renaata wave from next to Maalte, both of them queuing to refill their ladles.

“Hoy, Raavi! You’re a bit late!” Renaata said.

“I know, I was helping these people from out of town—”

“I heard. Come on, you can get the next batch of iron started in Crucible Five, since we’re already started the pour for Crucible Three.”

I frowned and sighed. Well, if that was the cost of my good deed, I’d accept that.

Getting a handcart from the hallway, I made my way up into the warehouse and found the stacked bars of iron right where they should be, between the stacks of the copper and zinc ingots. Those stacks were nearly empty, since we usually spent the summer rolling out the window cames. In spring, the canals would come with barges loaded with more metal for us to shape for the windows and other products that we made here, but, for the moment, we were focused on melting iron. With a grunt, I picked up the first ingot of iron, which would be a future window frame or some other elegant product. For now, though, it was blasted heavy—forty pounds, according to the stamp in the metal—and I loaded six onto the cart before I figured that it wouldn’t hold any more.

Trying to look nonchalant, I started rolling the cart back down the ramp, only to realize that I’d miscalculated. Two hundred and forty pounds of iron was one and a half of me in mass, plus the weight of the hand-cart.

Nonchalantness was thrown out the window, quickly joined by decorum, as I tried to keep the cart from rolling down the ramp at full speed. I crouched down and braced my feet; thankfully, the rough texture of the ramp’s covering was enough to keep me from getting dragged down the ramp with the iron.

And then I heard a voice call out my name, and my heart sank.

“Raavi?” came Zoy’s voice up the rampway.

I considered my options. I could let go of the cart, which would roll down the ramp and hit the wall, which would probably hold from the impact, but if it didn’t, there would be an impressive hole in the side of the building and I would never live it down.

Or I could let Zoy find me, my arms straining as I held onto the cart for dear life, with the rest of me locked into a deep squatting stance to give myself as much control over the cart as possible.

Before I could decide, she appeared along the railing. Her eyes glanced over my predicament, but she said nothing, not even a scoff at how silly I looked. Which was good, because one laugh and she would have obliterated me.

“Stylio sent me to help you,” she said instead, and I reconsidered the laugh. She hopped over the railing, and took position at the bottom of the cart. “She said it was the least we could do if you’re offering us a place to stay.”

As she braced herself against the bottom of the cart, the pull of gravity lessened, and I was able to straighten up a bit. “Thanks,” I gasped.

“I’m just doing what she told me to do. Thank her. Come on, where is this going?”

“Second level, over by the crucibles.” I tried not to look at her as she helped brace the cart, but that was hard. Out of her winter coat and cloak, she was a short, attractive woman who seemed to be made up of wire and sinew, under a pair of long flowing pants and a flowing shirt; a belt with leather pouches was around her waist, cinching the baggy top closed. The fact that her hair was cut short, to a length even with her ear, just seemed to add an air of danger to her, even though logically I knew that she almost certainly wasn’t a criminal, given how she was helping me.

“All right. Point the way.”

Working together, we made our way over to the crucibles in short order. We had five, but we could only use two of them in the summer unless we wanted the building to overheat, so now was the time of year when we could use them as much as we wanted. I opened the hatch for Crucible Five and together we started loading in the ingots, with Zoy lifting them off of the cart and handing them to me.

“So…” I began, grunting as she handed me one of the blocks of metal, “what were you and Stylio doing out there in the winter?”

“Surviving.”

I glanced at her, concerned. “I’d hope so! But like… where do you come from? Why didn’t you have a place to overwinter?”

She scoffed and motioned with her chin to the inside of the crucible. “Come on.” I put the block of iron into the crucible and turned back to her, only to have her shove the last ingot into my hands. “Look, kid, you’re nice, and I’m not a threat to you, but I don’t know you, and Stylio didn’t say I could tell you anything.”

“Why? Would you get in trouble?” I asked, putting the block into the crucible and trying to ignore the ‘kid’ comment.

“No, but you might. Just drop it.”

I mimed dropping the iron on my toe and then hopped around for a moment as if I’d dropped an ingot on my foot, which made her laugh for a moment. “Okay, that was a good one. Come on, the cart’s empty. Is that enough?”

I shook my head. “We’ll need another…” I glanced inside, “three loads that size. At least. Otherwise it’s not worth heating up the crucible.”

Her eyes tracked up the side, and nodded. “Got it.”

We went back up into the warehouse. Getting over to the stacks of iron, I looked it over with a sigh and said, “Remind me to talk with the others about putting the metal down on a lower level.”

“Why is it even up here in the first place?”

“I’m not sure. You’d think that we’d put the heavier stuff down below, but what’s down there is coke and bagged sand… in… ohhh…”

She smirked. “You look like you just had a spark hit you. What is it?”

“The sand for the glass is in hundred pound sacks. These are the lighter things… individually, at least.” I hefted the forty pound iron ingot.

“Well, looks like we have more work to do.”

We worked quickly after that, getting the crucible loaded up in short order with over a ton of iron; I didn’t press her for more information on where she and Stylio were from. I did, however, have other questions.

“I’m still just wondering what you were doing out there in the winter!”

“What? Do you think that the whole world goes to sleep?” She scoffed when I started to nod. “Overwinterers started as people guarding their towns from other people looking to take advantage of a whole town of sleeping people. The ‘work through the winter’ thing was later. Do you think that they would have done that if everyone slept?”

I blinked as I sealed up Crucible Five, before turning to her, my head cocked. “But… that means you’re planning on attacking, then?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said quickly.

“Then what are you saying?”

“That there are always people overwintering for one reason or another,” she said.

Before I could try to push on that line of logic, there was a crash from below, followed by a ragged scream, and more shouting.

I bolted for the stairs, taking them three at a time—and then blinked as I saw Zoy vault over the railings, hang from the top railing, let go and catch herself on the bottom of the catwalk, and then drop to the floor in a roll.

The agonized screaming continued, even as the shouting was calming down, and I shook myself and followed after her.

Turning the corner, I saw a grisly sight. An iron beam the size of a person had fallen over onto one of my coworkers, crushing one of their legs. They were the ones screaming, while everyone else was gathering around—including Stylio.

“We need to get the beam off of them. Sing with me,” she said in her accent, and began to vocalize with her deep voice. On key, with no aids needed, and I could feel it in my bones. The others joined in, one at a time, as best they could, synchronizing their Breath with hers. I recognized the spell; it was a muscle-strengthening spell, like the sort that an archer squad or group of teamsters would use. But just because I recognized it didn’t mean that I could just do it off the cuff, much less lead a group of people I had just met!

But Stylio could, apparently, and working together, they had the iron beam lifted up from its victim in a trice, revealing their crushed leg. It had to be broken in at least three places.

I grimaced—and then I blinked. They had been sitting on my favorite bench. If I hadn’t been loading up the iron with Zoy…

The realization that I had nearly been squished myself—and would have, if I hadn’t helped Zoy and Stylio—was pushed aside as Stylio knelt next to the panting and gasping person. She pulled off their work hood, revealing Maalte, his face streaked with sweat and vomit.

“We’ll need to get a healer,” Renaata said as Stylio cut open Maalte’s pants’ leg and probed it. Renaata was wringing her hands before looking up at me. “Raavi, do you know who is awake? Your mother is one of the better healers, but she’s asleep—”

Before she could continue, though, Stylio reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a wooden wand-flute. I could see that it was beautifully carved, even obscured as it was by her hands, and then she began to play.

We all sat back, watching and listening in awe, as Stylio began to weave an intricate spell of healing.

I’d spent my life as my mother’s audience; even though my own interests were in metal and glass and mechanisms, I knew the basics of healing as only someone with a parent who was a dedicated healer and who explained her art to her inquisitive eldest son could. I knew enough to heal a burn, close a cut, or otherwise do some first aid so that someone who actually knew what they were doing could take over, and I knew that was my limit.

And for most of my life, my mother had been the best healer I knew. Indeed, when I’d been younger, I’d thought she was the best.

Now I knew better.

Stylio was a master. Precise, controlled, a virtuoso. I could pick out the individual components of her spell in the same way that a child could identify the colors on the canvas painted by a master. It was a masterpiece, composed from the standard formulations and strung together quickly and efficiently. There was one movement to close the breaks in the skin. Other separate movements to realign the breaks in the bones and then to fuse them. Still more to heal the tears in the muscles.

And that made me start to worry if she could pull it off as she built to a crescendo, preparing to cast the spell. The larger the spell, the more of her own Breath it would take to fuel. Yes, you couldn’t kill yourself with casting a spell—although you could certainly knock yourself out!—but there was a reason why for major healings it was usually done as a group, with multiple people each donating a small portion of their own Breath to be shaped by the main caster.

And then she finished, and the blue-white glow of her Breath streamed out of her flute and into Maalte’s leg.

She sagged a little, but I could only watch, awed, as the broken leg straightened, Maalte screaming, followed by his screams tapering off as the bleeding stopped, the holes in his skin closing. Inside, the bones were fusing. Not fully healed, but enough to let him stand. He blinked, looked at Stylio, gasped out, “Thank you,” and then passed out.

#

“And you are still not answering my questions!” Mayor Laarthan thundered.

I winced from where I was standing by the doors to his office, but Stylio simply smiled. “I have answered them to what is your business. I am a wandering penitent. This is my ward. We were passing through town on the road when we were accosted by several guards, baselessly accused, and then offered hospitality by young Raavi there. We accepted, followed him to his workplace, and aided with his work and intervened in an accident. That is the whole of it. I do not understand the issue that you have with me?”

“The issue is what a Dormelion is doing so far from home, and one with such a fine-tuned talent at that, without a license!” He pounded the table.

“Would you have preferred that I had left the man maimed?”

“No…” Mayor Laarthan said through gritted teeth. “You could have given him a cancer or some other growth, charging in like that, though.”

“But I did not. Your own healer attested to that. As for why I am here…” Stylio shrugged. “I was led here by a sign, and I wish to help. If you feel that you do not want someone who is willing to heal, that is your prerogative, my lord Mayor, but I have been offered hospitality by a resident of your town. Unless I have broken some law, I believe that I, and my ward, are perfectly within our rights to stay here until such time as our hospitality is revoked by our host.”

Mayor Laarthan glanced at me and scowled. I gave him a half-hearted smile in response before he turned back to Stylio. “Fine then.” He pointed at me. “Raavi there is your guarantor for good behavior. If there is the slightest problem, I will throw both of you back out into the winter and throw the book at him, am I understood?”

“Unquestionably,” Stylio said. “Are we done here?” She rose from her chair.

Mayor Laarthan scoffed. “Unless Raavi wants to reconsider taking in a couple of foreign outsiders a thousand miles from their home, yes, we are.”

“Good. I have a patient to check on.” With that, Stylio turned and walked to the door. She smiled at me as Zoy followed in her wake. “Come, Raavi.”

Not wanting to stay in that office for a second longer than I had to, I followed quickly, in silent awe of Stylio. She’d just performed a major healing, and instead of being exhausted and filled with pain like most people would be—to use your Breath, you were literally tearing out bits of your own soul to fuel the magic, after all—she seemed to be doing just fine. Indeed, once she’d finished healing Maalte, she’d ordered Zoy to bring over the rest of the meat, cheese, and bread and get him to eat them in order to refuel his body. And then the mayor’s officers had shown up and brought us to his office.

“Are you okay?” I asked her for probably the fifth or sixth time.

“I’m fine. Nothing a good sleep or two won’t be able to fix.”

I gave her, and then Zoy, a sidelong look. She’d done that major healing by herself, with no donors of Breath, and she was fine? By all rights, she should have been lying in a chair, moaning and taking painkillers.

Zoy just gave me a shrug and a roll of her eyes in response before putting her coat and cloak back on. I followed suit, and shortly we were back outside in the blizzard.

We trudged through the snow in silence, only the crunch of the snow under our boots offering any sound, with me leading the way. We were about halfway back to my house before I blurted, “So you’re a Dormelion?”

Stylio chuckled slightly from behind her scarf. “Yes. Having second thoughts at having someone from the Empire under your roof?”

I shrugged. “No. I just… You’re very far from home.”

“The Empire isn’t home for me anymore, for either of us, and hasn’t been for some time,” Stylio said. “And I understand your mayor’s dislike of us on those grounds.” I felt her hand touch my shoulder, and I turned. While only her dark brown eyes were exposed under her layers of clothing, I could see concern in them. “If we will cause you problems, we can go.”

As Zoy scoffed, I shook my head. “No. You helped Maalte just like that. Besides, I would love for you to meet my Mom when she wakes up. I thought that she was the best healer, but you can teach her so much.”

“I doubt that we will stay that long, but the thought is appreciated,” she said. “Now, shall we get out of the snow and cold and into somewhere warm?”

“Oh, oh, of course!” I blurted. “You’ve got to be aching with all of that Breath you expended! And then dealing with the Mayor!” I turned and started moving through the snow again. “Follow me!”

We made our way back to the house and got our coats and boots hung up on the racks in the entryway, and when I opened the inner door to the rest of the house, I smelled something that made my mouth water.

Zoy sniffed appreciatively from behind me. “Well now. That’s nice. Your cooking?”

I shook my head. “I wish. I’ve been eating leftovers from the Nightfest Feast and the like, plus whatever anyone else cooks up.” I climbed up the stairs and went to the kitchen, finding a large pot of something on the stove with a note tied to one of the handles.

Raavi,

I know it’s not much, but I needed to say thank you to your guest for helping with Maalte. It needs to cook for a few hours. I put a marker on the clock.

Leena

I grinned and held it up. “It’s from Maalte’s wife. See? I told you that it wouldn’t be a problem.” I glanced up at the clock and saw the marker Leena had left between the notches along the dial. “It’ll be ready in an hour and a half.”

Zoy leaned over the pot and sniffed greedily. “Beats road rations.” She glanced at Stylio. “I say we stay for now. And if that mayor gets in your face again, I have a solution.”

Stylio snorted. “No murder.”

“I no longer have a solution.”

I chuckled at their back-and-forth. “Come on. Let’s get you two some places to sleep and you can shower and everything while we’re waiting for the food to cook.”

<<<<>>>>

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

[jefarawol]

“You are too late.” The dragoon approached her slowly. “Your dragoon is lost to you.” His presence felt wrong, cold and angry. She couldn’t feel the familiarity of Estinien that she had grown accustomed to. “No!” She exclaimed in disbelief. She knew she was denying the truth but until she felt Estinien’s lifeless body beneath her she clung to hope. “Can't you hear him?” Nidhogg sneered. He was almost in front of her. “Hear his pathetic cries for you?” Almost as if he willed it, she was suddenly aware of a third presence.

Jefara… Run…She gasped. She could hear him again, his warmth, his comfort and overwhelming them all his fear for her. Weeks of being held under the wyrm’s hold left him weak, she could barely hear him over the laughter of the beast as he closed the distance between them. Distracted by the sudden change of her consciousness she failed to react when a gauntleted hand seized her by the throat.

“No longer will you stand in the way of my vengeance.” He hissed at her. She cried out in pain as he squeezed her tiny neck. JEFARA!  “You have been a spear in my hide since the day you arrived.”  She gasped and writhed as her feet left the snow as Nidhogg brought her to his eye level. She could see the red veins of aether beneath the helmet spreading across his face.  “Even under my influence and power you refused to comply. Refused to die even when you took my body.”

He squeezed her neck tighter. “Not even the distraction of this vessel could deter you…”  GET OFF HER! She cried out in pain again, listening to Estinien screaming in her head. She tried to fight against his hold but she felt her energy waning from her body. The air grew colder around them, her lungs struggled as the icy winds burned with each breath she took. 

“A pity, had you come to me when I called,” He pulled her closer, her forehead almost brushing against the metal of Estinien’s helmet. “I would have spared you the truth of my designs, let you die in ignorance.” She gasped, her vision darkening around the outside, he released his hold just enough to keep her awake as he felt her conscious slipping. “You could have died thinking that the love you shared was real.”

What… “R-real…?” She could only choke out a singular word, her throat raw from abuse. “Your broken heart was so easy to mould.” His tone changed from anger to disdain. “Taking your broken affection and redirecting them. And you both fell for it so well.” Nidhogg chuckled watching as her eyes grew wide, her hands gripping his arm so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “You were the perfect puppet blinded by your love for another,” He continued, “What joy it brought me to watch you create your own destructive cycle between them both.” That can't be- “No-” She made an attempt to kick at him, but her legs were too heavy. She beat her fist against his plate mail. “No..!”

“But like everything you wouldn’t just die!” Nidhogg ignored her feeble attempt to hurt him, anger returning to him. “So now, as punishment, I’ll take the last tether of his resistance from him.”  Aether swelled at his fingertips pulling from her, she felt as if a dagger pierced her chest, cutting away at the part of her heart that Estinien occupied.  No! Estinien’s voice grew distressed, Stop it you beast! “Without your fake love I will use his despair to burn the city to the ground...” “No!” Tears froze on her face as quickly as they formed. She felt like she was dying, as he carved Estinien from her. “...To tear your lover apart…” “Aymeric…” She called for him automatically, she felt the anguish rise in Estinien at his name.

“Listen to her dragoon, listen to her call for him.” He spoke not to her this time, “Do you feel that? Her love for him?”  Her body seized in pain as the last of Nidhogg’s aether surged through her, until suddenly she felt hollow. She tried to scream but no more than a husk came from her as Nidhogg dropped her to the ground. She reeled for a moment before she fell sideways into the snow. “Look at her,” he knelt beside her. “She could not wait to reclaim his affection for herself, no sooner were you gone did she turn to him.” “No…” She tried weakly twitching as the cold began to soak into her clothes. “Know the truth dragoon.” He sneered. “Know the emptiness she feels for you now.” 

He stood and looked down at her, revelling hopelessness rising from Estinien’s soul. “No passion for you flows in her heart, only him. Her Prince, see how she dreams of leaving with him when you are dead by their hands.” “…Estinien…” She tried to reach out to him, but he pushed away, rejecting her. “...No…” she cried softly, too weak to raise her head. He drifted further from her grasp until all she could feel was the dreadwyrm again looming over her. “You have almost outlived your use..” He whispered softly, his voice carrying down on the thickening snowfall. “The final chorus is all but sung. When we next meet you will draw your last breath.” He turned from her, leaving her lying there without a care. Freezing, empty… And alone.

[scrabble-scribbles]

Kinktober Day 11

smuuuut. shoutout to @emmie-henderson for being the only reason i decided to do this (trans nancy wheeler for ya)

Prompt: Clothed Sex

Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x Robin Buckley

Fandom: Stranger Things

“I want to, Robin,” she said, fingers gentle  as they played with the collar of Robin’s shirt. Her eyes were still looking down at the bedsheets, lower lip in between her teeth. “I really do, I swear, it’s nothing you’re doing wrong.”

Robin took her hand, twining their fingers together, letting Nancy’s fingers brush over the silver rings. 

“Talk to me, Nance,” she said. “I’ll listen, just let me try and understand.”

“I don’t…” Nancy frowned, hands balling up. “I don’t like myself, down there. And it makes sex feel gross,” she said, playing with the hem of her skirt. 

Robin cupped her cheek, smiling softly when their eyes met.

“You dont have to see it,” she said, hand curling around her waist. “I think I might know how to help.”

Nancy frowned, confused, until she grasped Robin’s meaning, eyes widening. 

“Oh,” she said, jaw hanging open. “Oh, yeah, yeah, that could work.”

The crooked smile on Robin’s lips made Nancy feel so warm, and she kissed the taller girl, smiling into the embrace as Robin’s hands anchored themselves on her hips, Nancy’s going to her shoulders.

The kiss turned from sweet to messy in seconds, Robin getting more confident each time she pulled a little sound from Nancy’s mouth. 

They moved on the bed, Robin lowering Nancy’s back to the bed, hovering over her as they continued to kiss. Nancy’s fingers found the buttons on Robin’s shirt, and made quick work of undoing each one, Robin leaning back slightly just so they could slide the fabric off her body.

Nancy gasped when she saw Robin, still wearing a bra, not that it mattered, shirtless for the first time. 

(The multiple times she’d had to patch Robin up during their battles with the Upside Down didn’t count.)

She was gorgeous, all lean muscle and smooth skin dusted with freckles, only ruined by the few scars scattered around her skin. Nancy started tracing them, one day hoping to learn where each one came from. A few were circular puncture scars, bite marks from the bats, others long and straight from the Russian torture tools. 

Robin’s eyes were dark with lust, skin prickling when Nancy’s fingers ran over one of the little marks on her chest. 

“I want to eat you out,” Nancy said, and Robin startled, and Nancy’s eyes widened. 

“I-I mean, I-“ she said, trying to find a way to word that better, but Robin was nodding, a hungry look on her face, and she was rolling them over so Nancy was on top of her. 

Nancy yelped, nearly cracking her skull against Robin’s chin, scrambling to keep herself from falling.

“Robin!” She said, smacking the other girl’s shoulder. 

Robin’s eyes were trained on something else, and Nancy frowned, until she felt it.

Her hips were directly over Robin’s leg, and she was… she was hard.

“Oh, hey, no, Nance,” Robin said, thumb wiping a tear away. “No, don’t cry, baby.”

Nancy tried to move off Robin, but the other girl held her in place, shaking her head.

“No,” Robin said, looking right at Nancy. “I don’t know what’s going through that beautiful head of yours, but it’s not true.”

Freak, mostly, cycling through on repeat, followed by other slurs and hateful things she’d heard over the years, each one making her want to curl up and die.

“Nancy, hey, look at me,” Robin said, shaking her head a little. “Look at me, tell me what’s going on?”

“You think I’m gross,” she said, hating the way her voice cracked. “I’m wrong, Robin, I know that, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think that, Nancy,” she said, cupping her face gently. “Not the first time you told me, not yesterday, and not now, not ever, ok?” Robin got up onto her elbows, pulling Nancy with her. 

Nancy almost pulled away when she did, but Robin just hushed her.

“I wound never think that, Nance, I promise,” she said. “You trust me, right? I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Her hands dug into the sheets, and she took a few deep breaths, before nodding.

“Ok,” she said, still staring at Robin’s stomach. “I trust you.”

Robin’s stomach made her heart melt, and she kissed Nancy gently.

“You still wanna eat me out, sweetheart?” She asked, and Nancy nodded. She slid down Robin’s body, pressing a kiss to her hip before sliding her shorts down her legs.

“You’re beautiful, Robin,” she said. She wasn’t lying, every inch of Robin’s skin was perfect.

“Thanks, Nance,” Robin said, a dorky grin on her face. 

Robin had boxers on underneath her pants, the elastic so worn out they were loose around her hips. 

“Cute,” she said, pulling the waistband down. 

Robin just smirked, and Nancy’s knees felt weak.

She was already wet, legs spreading so Nancy could settle in between them, fingers tracing little circles on Robin’s hips and thighs.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” she said, and Robin laughed at that. Nancy fucking Wheeler was in between her legs, about to eat her out, and Robin honestly thought she’d rather die than tell her to stop.

Nancy leaned in, tongue swiping up the length of Robin’s pussy, circling around her clit for a few seconds, before moving back down.

Robin’s hands shot to her hair, gripping it tightly, hips bucking into her mouth.

“Oh fuck, Nance, Jesus Christ,” she rambled as that tongue swiped through her cunt again. “Fuck fuck fuck, do not stop!”

Robin’s hips bucked against her face, and Nancy hummed into her skin, trailing a finger down to rub at Robin’s clit. She kept lapping at her cunt, encouraged by Robin’s whimpers and moans, and near-constant babbling. “Jesus fuck, right there, please,” she was saying, fingers still clenched in Nancy’s hair. “Fuck, Nance, fingers, please!”

She looked up at Robin, eyes widening for a second, and then Robin’s hand was around her wrist, bringing it to her pussy.

“Fingers in me now,” she gasped out, and Nancy obeyed, because what else could she do?

Two of her fingers teased RObin’s entrance, and then pressed in when the blonde moaned. 

“Fuck, yes, just like that, so good for me,” Robin babbled, and Nancy felt herself flush even hotter at the praise.

She pressed her fingers in deeper, until she found the spongy spot that made Robin’s hips jerk, pulled a long, drawn-out moan from her chest.

“Please,” Robin whispered, and Nancy obliged, fingers hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, mouth suckling on her clit.

When Robin came, her legs clamped around nancy’s head, gasping for air. It was so much, so beautiful, and she kept thrusting, licking her through her orgasm. Robin finally pulled her head away, too oversensitive to keep going, and gasped for air as she relaxed.

Nancy couldn’t ignore her own need now, and ground her hips down against the sheets, blushing when Robin’s eyes landed on her lips.

“You need something, pretty girl?” Robin asked, her voice raspier than usual. Her fingers carded through Nancy’s sweaty curls, scratching at her scalp.

Nancy leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut, and she nodded. Her lip was between her teeth, and Robin noticed.

“Hey, come here,” she said scooting up on the bed to sit. Nancy joined her, ignoring the throbbing in between her legs. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, stomach already curling.

“What’s going through that beautiful brain of yours?” Robin asked, tucking a few stray curls behind her ear. “Talk to me, ok? Do you still want to do this with me?”

She nodded, glancing up at Robin. “I do, Robin, I promise,” she said. “I just haven’t done this much.”

Sex with Steve had never even been talked about, and with Jonathan it had been fine, not great, but fine. 

“I don’t know what I want,” she said finally, the words spoken so softly they sounded like a secret. 

Robin took her hand, and smiled at her, canines poking out from behind that smile.

“Would you feel better if you kept your clothes on?” She asked. “Not just your boxers, but your shirt too?”

“I think so,” she said, and Robin nodded.

“Ok, then,” she said, moving to pull Nancy closer, situating the smaller girl on her lap. “Let me take care of you. Tell me if you want to stop.”

Robin’s first action was to cup Nancy’s face, and pull her into an utterly filthy kiss. She kept at it until Nancy started squirming, her own hands settling on Robin’s hips.

When the blonde pulled back, Nancy was panting for air, eyes blown black with lust.

“Still good?” Robin asked, and she nodded.

Robin’s lips moved to her cheeks, her jaw, then down to her neck, sucking hickeys into the skin where she wouldn’t be able to hide them. Her hands were on Nancy’s back, holding their bodies close together, and the smaller girl moaned when Robin pressed them close enough for her to grind on her stomach.

“Fuck,” she muttered, letting her head fall back. “Fuck, Robin.”

She could feel Robin moving her hands down from her back to her hips, and she shivered at the touch, at what it meant. 

“Ok?” Robin asked, pulling back from nancy’s neck for a few seconds. When she got a vigorous nod in response, she moved her hand to brush against the bulge in Nancy’s boxers.

The shorter girl gasped, hips canting into the delicious friction, fingers squeezing Robin’s hips. 

“Still good, pretty girl?” She asked, and Nancy nodded, burying her head into Robin’s shoulder when that hand brushed over her again.

Robin quickly figured out the perfect ways to work her up, all without even touching her skin-to-skin. Nancy’s hips were grinding into Robin’s palm, using the other girl for her own pleasure, the knot in her stomach twisting tighter with each touch.

“Oh fuck, just like that, so good for me,” Robin said, grabbing Nancy’s ass to force her against her hand harder.

She threw her head back at the overwhelming pleasure, a broken moan leaving her throat.

Robin’s hand moved away from her boxers, and she whined at the loss. 

“Oh, I know,” Robin cooed. “You need my hand. Let me just make this easier.”

She lifted Nancy up, making her kneel, facing the same direction as Robin.

Robin grinned, pressing a kiss to Nancy’s shoulder. Then she forced Nancy down all the way, and reached around her to grind her palm against Nancy’s bulge. 

The half-moan, half-sob, that came from Nancy made Robin want. She dug her teeth into the skin of Nancy’s shoulder, worrying with her teeth until she knew a beautiful bruise would form. 

And based on the way it made Nancy start to buck her hips into Robin’s hand, she liked it too.

One of the brunette’s hands flew up to grab Robin’s hair, pressing her closer to her shoulders and back.

“Oh god, Robin, please,” she moaned out, desperately grinding for more pressure. Robin was so good, perfect, and she was falling apart because of her.

Robin’s lips pressed to her neck again, this time a gentle brush, before she kept laving bruises up and down her throat.

She was just so fucking good.

Nancy could feel her orgasm coming, looming over her like  the sun, she was almost there.

“Rob-Robin,” she gasped out, fingers clenched tight in the taller girl’s hair and sheets. Her hips canted into Robin’s touch, the ache deep in her gut twisting tighter and tighter.

Robin’s touch was like salvation, her hand brushing across her cheekbone, down her neck, chest and stomach to hold her hip, guiding her movements into a more natural rocking pattern.

“Easy, Nance, you’re doing so good,” she murmured, kissing the shorter girl’s neck. Nancy’s skin was flushed and sweaty from her lust, eyes so dark they were almost black. Robin could feel how hard she was, her free hand providing the perfect surface for Nancy to grind against. 

Nancy’s grip tightened in her hair, and she gasped, high and needy, her hips stuttering as she struggled to push herself over the edge.

Robin looped an arm around her chest, pulling her so their bodies were flushed, Nancy’s head resting under her chin.

“Close,” she mumbled, rocking harder against Robin’s hand.

The taller girl smiled, and gripped Nancy through her boxers, smirking at the choked groan that came from her.

“Come for me, Nance,” she said softly, paying extra attention to the head of her length. “Come on, pretty girl, come for me.”

Nancy’s body froze, taut as a wire before she snapped, moaning and whimpering, hips desperately bucking against Robin’s hand, as she came in her underwear. 

When she came down, Robin had maneuvered them into a more comfortable lying down position.

Her hands were rubbing over Nancy’s hips and knees, soothing the ache from kneeling for so long. Nancy’s heart melted at the realization, and she kissed Robin’s chest when she could move properly again.

“You still ok?” Robin asked, hand going to cup her cheek when she noticed her watching. 

Nancy murmured her contentment, doubling down on it by wrapping an arm around Robin’s waist.

Right now, she felt good enough to not even notice how wet her boxers were, to not feel embarrassed that she just creamed her pants like a hormonal teenager. She just wanted Robin to hold her.

And Robin, as amazing as she was, did. Her strong arms wrapped around her back, her lips kissing Nancy’s forehead. 

[killmelastband]

lyrics: if i die i won’t be missed / i’m a twenty-six year old analyst / this feels like a dead-end job / when will i get off the clock? / i’m sorry, sir, to disappoint / i’ll send you my death plans via powerpoint / ‘cause fuck, no corporate diversity / until photo time, then certainly / you’ll never see me at an office social event! / no desire for all your awful intents! / got better things to do than listen to your shit! / to get through this, there’s no amount of grit / break my spine to keep me in place / that’s the price of the corporate race / got too much time to contemplate / my loans, my life, my low pay rate / this suit and tie is suffocating / my supervisors are berating / i follow what those fuckers say / my own free will is stripped away / eighty hour work week / where’s the time to shit or sleep? / excel spreadsheets are my life / can’t get home to see my wife / i’m losing my motivation / i really need a vacation / even then, i’d be on call / slam my head against the wall / break my spine to keep me in place / that’s the price of the corporate race / got too much time to contemplate / my loans, my life, my low pay rate / only continuing ‘cause i’m spiteful / stuck in the classic two-week cycle / thirteen days, i wanna quit / then hey, payday, wash the sorrow away / i’m so funny, i’m at HR on the daily / they keep questioning my general safety / got too much time to contemplate / my loans, my life, my low pay rate / break my spine to keep me in place / that’s the price to stay in the corporate race.

[postsetstoner]

Sometimes I’ll take a liquid IV and go oohhhhhhgh I get it… water….. electrolytes…. And then I don’t drink water for days on end and the cycle continues until I die of dehydration

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Just Trying to Save You

Yandere Male Alpha Ferret Hybrid x Gender Neutral Omega Human Reader (CW: Kidnapping, dubious content, A/B/O dynamics, smut, musk/sniffing kink, ferret monster man, general yandere behavior, biting, claiming/marking, dacryphilia, breeding, heat cycles, implied impregnation) Word Count: 1.7k (I am still working on the much longer and complicated yandere wolf pack fic, but since it will be a longer project I like to take a break to do other things too. I was chatting about ferrets with one of my beta readers and got the idea for a ferret man. Shout out to @lilliumumi for beta reading, making suggestions, and helping me develop the idea. A quick fact about ferrets to put the whole fic into context: female ferrets die if their heat is not taken care of.)  You were an omega, alphas and omegas were especially rare in humans. Many of your fellow villagers looked down on you, but what choice did you have but to stay for your own safety? Monsters and stronger races could easily be attracted inadvertently by your scent.  You were a bit miserable, you could feel your heat approaching. It was once a month and always lasted about 4 days. 4 days of being bed ridden and horny with no release. 4 days of feeling too hot for your own skin.  You were all by yourself on the outskirts of your village, just outside the fence that helped prevent wolves from getting the chickens and deer or rabbits from getting the vegetables. You liked to walk around the village to be alone with your thoughts.  At least you had thought you were alone, out of the woods walked a thin man with a long, brown, slender, furred tail, fur up to his thighs, and soft looking ferret ears on top of his ears. His skin was white which contrasted well with his dark brown fur, His yellow eyes locked with your own and he came towards you, his long brown hair swaying gently in the breeze.  “Excuse me sweetie, what’s your name? I am Remy and I do believe you are the source of the most tantalizing scent I have ever smelled.” He, obviously having no sense of personal space or boundaries, nuzzled his nose into your neck and underarms, making you blush deeply. “You smell like you are unmated and are about to go into heat. Do you have a mate?”  “Uh I am (Y/N), and uh, n-no I am not mated, but that’s okay! I-I don’t need one.” Your mind was a bit fuzzy from the strong musk emanating from the ferret man. He was clearly an alpha of his species.  You backed away but he grabbed your wrist suddenly and pulled you closer.  “WHAT!? You don’t have a mate?? But you’ll die if you’re not knotted and bred, oh you poor thing, you’re lucky I happened by! Don’t worry, I’ll take you and keep you safe and breed you as much as you need.” And with that Remy pulled you into the forest, your mumbled protests and cries for help ignored or unnoticed.  “I’m not a ferret! I won’t die if I don’t get b-bred!” You twisted and turned in his grasp, but he did not let go and just continued dragging you.  “Ah, you don’t have to worry about it being a burden, it is no imposition, I promise! I was looking for a mate anyway! You smell so nice~ And I just know that you’ll love my nest, and I have so very many trinkets and treasures in my hoard, but you will be the crown jewel of my collection.” He was so engrossed in his excitement that he barely even took notice of your struggles until you tripped him and made a run for it.  You bolted off in the direction of your village, weaving around trees and through bushes. He wasn’t far behind though.  “(Y/N)! I am just trying to help you and keep you safe!! Please come back!” His voice wasn’t that far behind you and could tell there was genuine panic in his words, but you did not know him and were scared of what he would do to you. If anything his pleas only motivated your legs to go faster.  Suddenly you were practically tackled from the side and knocked down. Remy had managed to catch up and flank you. He was smiling down at you as he jumped and hopped erratically in in all directions.  “Haha! Yes, I got you!” The triumphant ferret continued his odd dancing, but you just stared at him with fear. “Oh.. uh.. sorry, sometimes my people dance when we successfully catch something. Anyway…”  Remy pulled you up to your feet and began dragging you off again in the direction of his home, his scent was stronger after the chase, it kinda made you want to submit to him, but you had to stay focused. You resumed your struggles in his grasp.    “I know you’re scared, but you gotta calm down. You can’t just leave me and run off on your own, what if you got away from me and your heat hit? You could die! I am trying to save you!! So just relax. I won’t let your heats hurt you. Here maybe this will help.” He stopped dragging you and instead pulled you close with one of his hands pushing your head into his hairy sweaty underarm.  You tried to hold your breath and turn your head away but you could only delay the inevitable and eventually you had to inhale. His pheromones were powerful, so manly and dominant. You nuzzled your nose into him to get more of the scent, you could not help it, it just made you feel so calm and safe.  He chuckled at your sudden change of heart and kissed your forehead gently, “Come on sweetie, we got to get home.” You were much more compliant. You couldn’t help it. You felt a flutter in your stomach and your instincts and timid personality told you to just submit to the nice smelling alpha. They told you that Remy would take care of you. And that would probably be a good thing, since his smell accelerated your looming heat cycle and you could feel slick start to run down your thighs.  You shyly clung to his arm and let him guide you to your new home, you stared at him the entire way, had he always been so handsome? He was all smiles. Remy knew a powerful dose of his scent was just what you had needed to know that he was a strong, safe, and compatible alpha to be with.  He led you into his den at the base of a great tree and took you into his room. It was a surprisingly large space with a big bed. The ferret man stared down at you as sat you on the bed.  “You’re so precious (Y/N), you’re lucky you found me, it smells like you’ll going into heat much sooner than I thought!” Remy sniffed all over you, nuzzling his nose between your thighs as his cock got hard. He pulled off your shirt and started licking at the sensitive scent gland on your neck.  You blushed at the new scent of his arousal and submissively leaned your head to one side to give him better access. He sucked gently at your neck before starting to remove your remaining clothing.  “You’re such a good little mate for me. So obedient~” The alpha scooted you to the edge of the bed and got on his knees, positioning himself between your thighs with your legs over his shoulders. You gasped as he started licking around your slick-lubed hole. The strong muscle grazing over your entrance teasingly.  Remy, unable to hold back any longer now that he was losing himself in your scent and juices, plunged his long tongue into you hungrily. His tongue explored every inch, groove, and contour of your insides, eagerly lapping up your slick, savoring the flavor. It was, by far, the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.  He started stroking his cock as he continued tasting you, your little gasps and whimpers of pleasure spurring him on. You spread your legs wider for him, desperate for more, your mind too sex-addled and clouded by the powerful scent of aroused alpha surrounding you, far stronger than any human alpha.  You started sobbing, his tongue no longer enough to satisfy the heat inside you. You felt so hot, you were starting to become drenched in sweat, his scent and attention finally sending you into a full blown heat.  “R-remy I n-n-need more”, you managed to choke out between sobs.  “More what babe?” He looked up at your face, red from your heat and tears streaming down your cheeks.  “Remy pl-pleeeeease!” You could not even form the words to ask for what you needed, you were sobbing so hard now, so desperate to be knotted and for your heat to calm down. Your whole body was shuddering with the force of your crying.  As beautiful as he thought you were all wrecked and sobbing for him he wouldn’t tease you any longer. He’d give you what you needed.  “Okay, okay, don’t worry (Y/N). I got you.” Remy pushed you back on to his bed and put you in a mating press, kissing your lips sloppily as he plunged his entire cock into you all at once. Your wet hole accommodated the large man eagerly and with no pain.    Your sobs started to fade and you relaxed slightly as you finally had a nice dick in you. Remy started by fucking you slowly and deeply. He caressed your side with his soft tail as his lips dominated yours and his tongue explored your mouth.    He removed his lips from yours and started biting somewhat hard in various places, your wrists, your arms, the area around the scent glands in each side of your neck, your chest. It hurt but it mixed beautifully with the pleasure of him breeding you faster, diving his cock in and out of your needy little hole.  “So good, such a good mate, perfect omega~ Gonna knot ya, gonna fill you with cum (Y/N), gonna fill you with my kits!” His knot inflated inside of you and locked him into you as he came deeply. Remy did not stop yet though, he kept rocking his cock inside of you, his knot rubbing so wonderfully against your walls, until he came again. When he did he bit the scent gland in your neck hard, causing your whole body to shake as you came.  Your tummy was bulging with his seed, you would almost certainly be knocked up.  You clung to him tightly as he was still tied to you and he licked all the bites he left on you clean, with  much emphasis on the beautiful claim mark he left on your neck. Your heat had calmed down a lot, though you would probably still need a lot of breeding for the next few days, it probably was not done flaring up.  Maybe life with Remy wouldn’t be so bad, you couldn’t convince him you would not die like a ferret if your heat was ignored, but at least you had a nice alpha to take care of you and a knot to fuck away the worst symptoms of your heats.

[kuroopaisen]

brat || gojou satoru

➵ gojou wants you to pay attention to him. and no, he doesn’t care about how annoying he’s being. 

wc: 2k

warnings: gn!reader, gojou is Annoying, mild spoilers i guess? 

a/n: hi welcome to my gojou brainrot i would like to escape and yet i cannot,,, will i deliver more mindless fanfic? who knows! 

You sigh, turning the page of your book with an exhausted kind of resignation. Had you even comprehended what’s in the last paragraph? Or had you just let your eyes gloss over it, admiring the shape of the letters without actually taking any of them in?

Reading a book isn’t so difficult under normal circumstances; sure, you’ve got your own concentration to wrestle with, but that’s an (occasionally) tameable beast.

The man sprawled on the couch next to you, however, is not.

“Are you done yet?” Gojou hums, sticking his legs straight up in the air.

“I’ll be done sooner if you shut up,” you mumble, starting from the top of the page for what feels like the thirty-second time in the past five minutes.

Gojou’s not handling the boredom well. He’s spent the past five minutes cycling between humming Danse Macabre in an octave too high to be comfortable while swinging his legs in circles and poking your cheek as he crouches next to you on his knees.

“You’re the one who said I could come over,” he chirps, completely unfazed by your words.

“I never said that,” you mumble.

It’s not a lie. Earlier today, Gojou’d asked if you were going out tonight. You’d said no. He’d decided to take that as permission to crash at your place.

Although the onus is at least a little on you; he has a habit of doing things like this. You’ve got to be one step ahead of him if you want to win against him on a petty debate like that.

A head of white hair wriggles its way onto your lap.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m bored,” he hums.

That much is obvious. But you know it’s not that simple; he’s bored, yes, but more importantly, he wants your attention. Even your chest flutters at that.

“You’re a grown man,” you smile. “Entertain yourself.”

A well-worn coquettish smile plays on his lips. “I can’t tell if you’re being lewd or not.”

You slap his chest.

“Ow!” He gasps, placing a hand over his heart. “I can’t believe you’d be so cruel to me!”

“Then stop being annoying.”

“I’d like to think I’m ‘charmingly playful’.”

“Do you take constructive criticism?” You tilt your head at him, biting back a smile.

“I would,” he muses, “if I weren’t already perfect.”

“That ego of yours is going to get you into serious trouble one day,” you grin, flicking his forehead gently.

He lets you, grinning back. “Ah, but you see, my dear,” he hums, grabbing your hand before you draw it away and lacing your fingers with his. It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but you don’t mind.

“I’m simply stating the truth.”

“Well, the truth hurts,” you mutter, “so it’s no surprise no-one wants to hear you gassing yourself up.”

Gojou laughs. His hair tickles your inner thighs and you’re almost convinced to give in. But it wouldn’t be good form to feed his ego after chiding him for it.

You’re well-aware his ego’s already gotten him in trouble – many times, in fact. But Gojou seems to have a way of wheedling his way out of anything.

And, of course, you know that his ego doesn’t come from nowhere.

Doesn’t stop it from being annoying, though. The fact it’s at least partially well-founded makes it worse.

You take a deep breath, turning your attention back to this blasted book. Gojou will just have to wait.

“Why are you even reading that brick?” He muses, tapping the bottom of the book’s spine with one long finger. “You look bored out of your mind. And, you’ve been on the same page for the past five minutes.”

“You know,” you tilt your head to the side, a sour look on your face. “‘Adult stuff.’ Upskilling and all that.”

“Ah,” Gojou grins. “Career work.”

“Mhm,” you sigh. “And some of us can’t just learn on the job.”

Although, you ponder, the thought blurred with gentle melancholy, some of us aren’t constantly risking our lives.

Gojou always tells you not to worry; he’s the strongest jujutsu sorcerer there is, after all. But even that’s not enough to lull you into an uneasy sleep, to bring you warmth when your bed is cold.

You’re never truly at ease until you feel him slip into your bed in the early hours of the morning, his arms slinking around your waist and pulling you towards him. It’s like clockwork how he buries his head in your shoulder as every muscle in his body relaxes. He always thinks you’re asleep – and honestly, it’s easier to let him keep believing that.

What you’ve got isn’t exactly a ‘relationship’. At least, not in the most traditional sense of the word. Gojou’s never pretended to offer you that. But it’s not so simple as a ‘friends-with-benefits’ arrangement.

Gojou Satoru doesn’t suit the domestic. But he relishes in it, the same way a child might enjoy playing at high tea with little plastic teacups and cupcakes made of playdough. Some might find this frustrating – the idea of existing in this grey, a dark, nebulous unknown stippled with moments of affection and vulnerability.

But there’s still comfort in it; a sense of understanding, a place to let loose and relax. Being part of this world is hard. It’s so cruel – sending children out to fight things they barely comprehend, letting them suffer and even die. And what do they have to show for it? A future of doing the same thing while also having to navigate just how shit the world of sorcerers truly is?

Why aren’t more of your colleagues angry about this? One counsellor isn’t enough to maintain the wellbeing of these children. Do the higher-ups even care? Well, you know the answer to that question – it’s enough to make you want to throttle each and every one of them—

“Hey.”

You clatter back to earth, met by a pair of electric blue eyes. It’s easy to forget just how striking they are; it’s like they can stare right into your very core, laying out secrets you never even knew you had.

“Hm?” You blink at him. You can’t risk him knowing you’re worried. He doesn’t stand for that sort of thing; he’ll just tease you for being concerned about him. Though, you’re well-aware that he enjoys being doted on.

“You’re spacing out,” he smiles. “Again.”

Sure, he sounds like he’s joking. But even he can’t disguise that little flash in his eyes, the slight tension in his face. It’s the same expression he has when he talks about that new student of his.

Gojou understands you better than you’d like. Every little tell, every tiny hint towards what you’re actually thinking. It’s near impossible to hide anything from him; it’s irritating, really.

But, at least he’s got the decency to leave the direction of the conversation in your hands.

You weigh it for a moment, deciding how exactly to respond. Should you play it off and throw his brattiness back in his face? Or should you pry open that conversation like the doors of an old temple?

Today’s not the day. Neither of you are ready for that.

You stick your tongue out at him. Perhaps it’s not how an adult should behave, but you don’t care. Neither does Gojou.

“I think,” he sighs, plucking the book out of your hands and tossing it across the room, “it’s time you took a break.”

You yelp a moment too late, watching your book slap against the wall and flop to the floor. It’s only a paperback – thank God – but you’re not ready to fix another dent in the wall caused by the force of mayhem known as Gojou Satoru.

“And I have been waiting long enough,” he grins, wrapping his arms around your neck and launching forward.

“Satoru—”

It’s too late. He’s got you pinned beneath him – and not in a sexy way. All six feet and three inches of him is laid flat on top of you, your face smothered by his chest.

You punch his side weakly.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he laughs.

“Fine,” you try to say. All you get is a mouthful of Gojou’s shirt. You slip your hands up said shirt and tickle his sides.

“Hey, hey, hey—” He splutters, grabbing at your wrists.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” You smirk, continuing your assault.

Gojou whines, propping himself up by his palms and arching his back like a cat in an attempt to shake you off.

“Get back here,” you grin, lifting your torso in response.

His arms are immediately wrapped around you, pinning your own arms to your sides. You yelp in surprise, finding yourself laid gently against the couch with your face pressed against his neck.

“Much better,” Gojou chuckles, still on top of you as he nestles his head into your shoulder.

It’s not the most comfortable position, but that’s rarely a priority when it comes to Gojou. You wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t just his way of goading you into relocating to your bed for ease of cuddling (although you have your doubts that it’s the only thing on his mind).

“You want attention that bad, huh?” You chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

“Mhm,” he smirks, bringing his head up to get a proper look at you. “I’m a busy man, you know. I don’t think you’re appreciating my free time enough.”

“And yet, you never seem to leave my damn house,” you muse. “I’m starting to think you don’t actually have a job.”

Gojou laughs, leaning down and kissing you properly.

“That’s not an answer,” you say against his lips.

He ignores you, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You sigh, conceding. His lips are so soft yet so persistent, somehow both desperate and playful. He’s aggravatingly good at this sort of thing – before Gojou, you didn’t really understand what it meant to be a ‘good kisser’. But of course, he manages to excel at this, too. And annoyingly enough, he’d been right to brag about it.  

He brings one hand up to cup your cheek and moves another down to your waist. It’s a surprisingly chaste move for him, but you don’t mind. You tangle your own hands in his hair, resisting the urge to tug it. If you do that, you’ll officially lose any chance of getting more reading done tonight. Although your ability to focus on anything other than him is waning quickly.

When Gojou pulls back, he’s got that look in his eyes. The one that always makes your cheeks flush, makes your heart feel a little lighter. The one that almost makes you say something stupid.

Thank God you always have your wits about you.

“You get five minutes,” you sigh. “And then you’ve got to let me finish the chapter I’m on, okay? Then I’m all yours.”

Gojou’s grin blossoms with delight.

He slots himself beneath your chin and rests his cheek against your chest. A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You smile, propping your chin on the top of his head and wrapping your arms around him.

Despite all his big talk, his irksome demeanour, even his obnoxious height, Gojou Satoru loves to be held.

You always oblige. He never asks – that’s too close to admitting weakness.

But you understand. He needs this. Sometimes he just wants to be tended to.

Being let in like this is an honour. He’s letting you be part of his life, despite his grand plans. Plans that, when he’d told you them, shifted your whole understanding of him.

Gojou represents change.

You have to have faith in him. You have to believe he’ll make good on his promises and turn the sorcerer world on its head. It’s no easy burden; and despite what he claims, even he falters in the face of something so monumental.

But despite all that, he’s still him. He hasn’t let the weight of his goals crush him; at least, not entirely. He finds the little joys, indulges in mundane delights, sees the humour in things.

Gojou Satoru wants to change the world, but he still lets himself be a part of it.

Perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to love him.

Even if he can’t offer the stability and promise of a stable relationship.

Even if he’s a little brat.

[sibehpoor]

K.JN | Dear,Jennie

✩ Pairings : Reader x Jennie

✩ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Sad

✩ Word Count: 773

✩ Warnings: Death Scenes, Just purely sad 

✩ A/N: I was stressed and welp this was in my drafts long before already that’s why I finished it and yepp here it is 

You may listen to this playlist: here I’ll add more !!

The love you and Jennie share is incomparable, it’s well established with trust, love and hope, each passing day when you lay down in the arms of each other you would feel the happiness overflowing till the bones, she was your world and will be your world till the minute you die.

You have been diagnosed with leukemia back in fourth year college, it was a tough road but you have her, Jennie is the sun that lightens your gloomy world, she makes sure to make you smile and always lets you know that you are loved and sometimes you pity how she is trying so hard for you when you can only do the bare minimum, all your friends gets to experience hanging out with colleagues, buying whatever they want, saving for their future but her after work she takes care of you and helps in paying your bills in a repeated cycle.

“Let’s break up” you tell her one day while she was tucking you in bed which made her stop her movements “W-what” she asked and you can see the hurt in her eyes which made you immediately regret what you just said “Don’t you love me anymore?”she asks as she fiddles her finger while biting her lip “I love you so much more than the world can ever know” you grab her hand and look at her beautiful doe eyes before you continue “But Jennie I can’t see you hurt anymore, you can’t just be stuck with me here” she immediately hugs you as you finish what you said and it caught you off guard “You breaking up with me hurts more, I’m not stuck with you I chose to be with you that’s why never push me away” she says in a small voice while letting her tears flow, you’re a jerk you thought to yourself as you rub her back softly while letting your own tears flow.

Jennie stayed she loved you more each day and made you happy, “Wow the sky is so beautiful” she exclaimed before setting up the picnic mat “But you are more beautiful” you tell her in complete awe with her beauty, as you see her finish up setting the picnic you call for her attention “Jennie” she turns to you and hums “Take this” you hand her a mini envelope “Don’t open it until you know” just look down and she just felt sad at the realization of what you said “Hey I baked some good macaroons wanna try” she tries to be strong as she holds back her tears, you nod and grab some of her macaroons, you sit down in the picnic and grab her face “I’ll miss this face” you tell her as you shower her with kisses and she can’t help but giggle at the affection.

Your mini picnic ended quickly because she was too afraid that you’ll catch a cold because of the cold weather, the drive back home was fun you listened to the many stories Jennie had to say until you felt tired and suddenly had the urge to close your eyes shut, it was only when the stop light turned red did Jennie realize what happened to you and she can’t help but cry and hug you “Rest in peace now my love” she says while looking at your beautiful face.

She was a mess without you, she did not feel like living anymore.It was only during the last day of your burial did she get the courage to finally read the letter you gave her.

Dear Jennie,

The day that you became my girlfriend was the day that changed my life, the day my dream came true because you Ms.Jennie Kim is my dream, when I am in your presence my heart is full, you inspire me to keep on going everyday, you became my shining star that lights up my world all the time. We may never be together again for the rest of your lifetime but do know during the parts when we were together the thoughts of you constantly fill my heart with great love and happiness, I chose to love you with my whole being and I’ll choose to love you again in another lifetime, in another universe and in any kind of circumstance, I’ll find you again and again but for now goodbye my love, I can’t wait to be in your arms again.

                                                                                                 Sincerely yours,

                                                                                                           Y/N

Jennie hugs your letter tightly as she murmurs while crying “I’ll meet you again my love” and I’ll choose to love you too in whichever circumstance with your letter she became a bit hopeful but still promise that in her lifetime she will only love you nobody else.

[haechanniesunflowers]

Ateez reaction to you being hurt

notes: I'm feeling angsty today

Seonghwa

He had a hard day, practicing for hours on end for Ateez's 10th year anniversary concert. He wanted to get home and pour his heart out in front of you and just spend time with you. But he came home and you weren't there much to his dismay, but he waited for you. It was raining heavily. He called you again and again but you weren't answering making him anxious and adding to his frustration. Three hours later, the rain still hadn't stopped and he was scared and furious. The bell rang and Seonghwa opened the door. You stood there, completely drenched in the rain. He stepped aside to let you in. You walked inside and got to the living room when he pulled you by your arm to make you face him.

"where the hell were you? And why weren't you answering your damn phone?" he tone was harsh.

"Seonghwa please, not now I-"

"no we need to talk about this now! answer me! Do you know how worried I was? And I was already frustrated to begin with!"

You lowered your head and let the tears spill but it seemed like the rain water was dripping down your face.

He shook you arm to pull you, making you lift your face and roughly pull out of his grasp. That's when he saw the tears.

"I had a bad day too! Okay? My awful coworkers took credit for my project that I worked so hard on! And on top of that I locked the car with the keys, my wallet and phone inside! And I had to walk home because I didn't have any money for a bus or a cab! There! Got your answer!"

Seonghwa's eyes softened at your words and he tried hugging you but you pulled back.

"no I'm not in the mood and I'm drenched"

You went to your room and locked yourself in the bathroom to cry in the shower.

Hongjoong

The track he was working on was almost ready and he wanted you to be the first person to hear it so he called you to invite you over to his studio.

"hey babe what are you doing?"

"nothing much Joong. What's up"

"can you come over in the evening? I want you to listen to my song"

There was a pause from your end.

"hello? Baby can you hear me?"

"ye-ah Joongie. I'm busy these days, I'm so sorry. I'll try to come after the next week."

"no that's okay, you don't need to put your work aside. I'm free today since I finished the song, I'll come over. How does that sound?"

"I'll tell you in a few hours, okay?"

Hongjoong felt something was off so he quickly got done with his files and saved the track and packed up. He drove straight to your apartment and knocked on the door. You didn't expect to see Hongjoong at the door so you hid behind the door after opening it. He eyed you suspiciously.

"are you okay?" he asked, pushing the door slightly to get inside.

"yeah why do you ask?" you spoke nonchalantly, standing in the akimbo pose.

"you're acting... unusual"

"nonsense"

He slid it aside and took you towards your bedroom. He found it unusual how you were walking slowly and stopped.

"you're hurt." he stated and his suspicion was confirmed when you didn't answer.

"I slipped and sprained my ankle. I didn't want you to worry so I didn't tell you and I didn't agree to meet you"

He picked you up and laid you on the couch, snuggling next to you.

"I'm here to take care of you" he whispered and turned the TV on.

Yunho

Yunho is always in a good mood when he gets to see you. He wants to make the best use of the time he gets to spend with you. So during his break, you guys went to his home town to meet his parents but you stayed in a hotel even though he insisted that you stayed at his house. But you were a woman of principles and didn't think it was appropriate to stay at your boyfriend's house before marriage. He came to pick you up in his car and took you to an amusement park. You guys took roller-coaster rides and other scary looking rides too. He asked if you wanted to eat something and proposed the idea of going to a restaurant but you you told him that hotdogs from the vendors in the park would be nice and that you wanted to stay there longer and get on more rides. After eating you two took that discovery ride. While getting off you felt a little dizzy and tripped on something and fell. Yunho quickly helped you up and asked if you were okay and you told him yes, even though your ankle hurt a lot. After the fun time, he drove you back to your hotel. As you got off, you winced in pain and knelt to the ground, clutching your ankle. He worriedly got out the car and came to your side.

"your ankle is swollen" he spoke, concerned.

"it's fine, I can manage"

"are you kidding me? Why didn't you tell me you're hurt?"

"because I didn't want to ruin tee date"

"you can't stay here y/n, you're coming out with me"

"I said it's okay Yunho, I'll take painkillers and an ice pack, I'll be fine"

"I'm sorry you got hurt"

"you don't need to be sorry babe" you said and kissed him.

Yeosang

Yeosang wanted to go skateboarding with you but you didn't know how to ride a skate so he took it upon himself to teach you even though you gave the idea of him skating and you cycling next to him but he said no. He took you to a nearby park and helped you learn for over a month. When he deemed you ready, he encouraged you to ride it on your own with him holding your hands or your waist. You took a deep breath.

"you can do this" he smiled.

"I hope so" you replied and steadied yourself.

"I can already see us skateboarding down the road. I can't wait"

"okay here goes nothing"

You gained momentum with your foot pushing the board forward and continued with a steady pace.

"I'm doing it! Yeosang I'm doing it!" you cheered but made the mistake of looking back towards him which made you lose your balance since you were relatively new to this. You fell on your back but broke your fall with your arm.

Yeosang rushed towards you and helped you up. You yelped in paid when he grabbed your arm.

"it hurts so much" you shook.

He took you to a hospital where the doctor told you your wrist was dislocated.

He felt awful and blamed it on himself. He stayed by your side before and after your surgery and even helped you with your daily life stuff until you got better. You were happy to spend a lot of time with him and told him it wasn't his fault.

"you are never riding a skateboard again. Like ever."

San

You were visiting Namhae to meet San's family. He always talked about them and told you how important they were to him so you paid them a visit, knowing it would make San the happiest.

You were sat on the couch, chatting with his sister while the TV was on. It was a random drama which none of you were interested in, rather wanting to talk about girl stuff.

"Sannie is a sensitive one, though he doesn't show it" his sister let you know.

"I know, I have never seen him cry. I used to think he doesn't care but then I found out that he's just very good at controlling his emotions."

You two were indulged in the conversation and didn't see San entering the room with Byeol in his arms.

"Y/N I want you to meet our family's master"

You and his sister giggled.

"Byeol, this is Y/N. I hope you come to terms with the fact that your position as the girl I'd die for has been taken by her."

You were a blushing mess and had butterflies in your stomach. San was always kind and loving towards you. And as if Byeol had understood what San had said, she started acting up.

"can I pet her?" you asked, earning encouraging nods from the Choi siblings. You stretched your hand you gently pet her head but Byeol acted first and violently scratched your hand, drawing blood.

"Byeol no!" San whined as the cat hissed at you and ran to the other room.

You clutched your hand tightly, trying to soothe the pain but it came in waves and burned. San worriedly came closer to you and him and his sister examined your hand. There was definitely blood coming out of the claw marks. They had to take you to the hospital to get you tetanus shots.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, your hand is ruined and you're in pain because of me"

"not because of you Sannie, it was Byeol but you can't really blame her, she an animal after all"

Mingi

Mingi took you to the dance studio to show you the new dance he choreographed. He was happy with it and spent a lot of time perfecting it and wanted you to see it. You were supportive of his ambitions as a rapper and a dancer, aside from Ateez. He was grateful for you for being by his side and understanding the time and effort it required. You never complained when he was unable to make time for you sometimes, knowing that he was working hard. The bond you shared was strong and you two were inseparable.

"okay I'm gonna start, queue the music"

And with that he started dancing. You were in awe of the way his body moved and how effortlessly he executed the difficult moves. You clapped when he finished.

"wow Mingi... this is... wow... I'm so proud" you were at a loss of words.

"come on I'll teach you the floor move, it's the easiest"

It was the easiest, for a trained dancer that is. You both didn't realize how difficult it actually was. You, because you weren't a dancer and Mingi made it look like a piece of cake. Mingi, because it came naturally to him and he had insane body control so he thought it was actually easy.

He taught you how to slide using your core strength. You didn't have a strong core to begin with, so you landed on your knee and pain shot up in your leg. You clutched it and let out a whine. Mingi took a look at it saw it reddening.

"I'm sorry for making you do this" he shook his head.

"nah I shouldn't have said yes" you smiled, not wanting him to be upset.

"let's get you home"

Wooyoung

He kept his artist of the month news a secret from you. He wanted to surprise you with it. So when you saw it on twitter you called him and congratulated him.

"this is huge Woo, I'm so proud of you!"

"I know you're rooting for me. I want you to come at the practice session we're having, just so we can perform on stage too"

You agreed to come and dressed up for him. When he saw you enter the studio in your black jeans that hugged your curves and the loose green cardigan which you styled and tucked in from the front. You had your hair down and mere sight of you took Wooyoung's breath away. His dancer friend from bb trippin' knew about your relationship but some of the staff was different that day and didn't know who you were.

Your eyes gleaned, watching Wooyoung dance. He was in his element and looked ethereal. The practice session ended and before you could run to him and hug him, you saw another woman, a staff member get close to him, handing him a water bottle and wiping his sweat off with a cloth. You were stunned but didn't think muhh about it, since his job required him to be around other women too. You watched from a distance how she talked to him for some time and subtly placed a hand on his thigh, giggling and telling him he did well. You were hurt to say the least. He didn't spare you a glance and then talked to her as if you weren't in the room. You didn't ruin the mood for him at the moment but were screaming internally watching her flirt with your man in broad daylight and him going along with him.

After the session ended, his choreographer called him to discuss important matters with him and the staff started leaving. You noticed how the same woman was hanging around, until another senior staff member told her to pack up and leave. After the discussion, Wooyoung came running to you.

"did you like it?" he asked excitedly.

"the performance? yes. The little show with that staff woman? absolutely not"

His face fell at your words.

"baby listen, I had to let it slide. It's not like I could've swat her hands away and tell her to go away. Having good chemistry with the staff results in good performances. Please try to understand"

"I don't know Wooyoung. And this is just what I saw. I can't stop imagining what else goes on since I'm not around all the time"

"I want you to trust me. I'm all yours. No one can take me away from you. No one. You don't know the hold you have around my heart. You don't know what you do to me. It's you and only you. Never forget that."

Jongho

If there's one thing in this world that Jongho liked doing the most, it was comparing how strong he was compared to you. No, you didn't even compare. You didn't even come close. He loved lifting you like it was nothing, tightening jars on purpose so you would ask him to open them for you and lifting the furniture with one hand while you both cleaned. He also loved arm wrestling with you with just two of his fingers of his non dominant hand, while you struggled to win with your dominant hand.

You both sat in the middle of the living room. Jongho challenged you to arm wrestling and the loser would have to clean the dishes. He wasn't even trying while you were shaking by using the entire strength in your arm. He got a little cocky when his hand got tired and decided to end it with a bang. He used intense force and your hand landed on the table with a thud. You pulled it back and rubbed it. He didn't fully realize how hard he hurt you until he saw just how red the back of your hand was. He immediately apologized but you got up to give yourself first aid, not responding to him. He followed you to the kitchen and tried helping but you shoved him aside.

"leave me alone"

"I'm sorry I hurt you. Let me help"

"Jongho please just leave me alone right now"

He felt awful to have hurt you and after you went to your bedroom, he did the dishes. You had invited him to stay the night at your apartment so he was glad he could be around to make it up to you.

He came to you some time later and apologized again and took responsibility of his actions.

"you scared me Jongho"

"I'm so sorry, I'll be more careful I promise"

[aizawaorkuroo]

A Burnt Offering

Ship: Dabi x f!reader

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: Your long lost childhood friend sends you letters. And then everything falls apart. Or perhaps together? Otherwise known as “Dabi wants you. And Dabi gets what he wants.”

Warnings: dubcon, non-consensual voyeurism, stalking, manipulation, spitting, dacryphilia, size kink, overstimulation, creampie, cock warming, unprotected sex

A/N: Spoilers for ch. 290 kinda!!! Don’t think too hard about how they’re childhood friends. Not going to be canon compliant cause i make the rules uwu,, also this is a little darker than what I’ve written in the past, (but still pretty soft all things considered) so please read the warnings!!!

_________________________________

“Dreamed of peach trees. Dreamed, again, of drowning. Dreamed of highways becoming rivers. Dreamed of me, my long hair in flames, my body no longer a body, but a burnt offering, strange smoke rising up to meet him” - Nicola Maye Goldberg

.

.

.

The first letter you received was a little out of the ordinary, but nothing special. It had been left under your doormat, sticking out ever so slightly. You had brushed it off, assuming they had gotten the address wrong, or meant to send it to the person who lived in your apartment before you.

The right thing would’ve been to leave it there, or throw it away. But curiosity is a fickle beast, choosing to rear its head at strange times.

You furrow your brows, eyes scanning the words hastily scratched onto the paper. It felt familiar, but nothing truly stuck with you. You couldn’t think too hard about it, now when you had so much to get done.

It was a random occurrence, one that slipped your mind as you went about your day, the letter sitting on your kitchen counter.

hey,

we haven’t talked in a while. i miss you i guess. i swear to god i sometimes still feel your hand in mine and sometimes i think of your smile. maybe I’ll see you soon.

It’s left unsigned, and you can’t help but to feel bad that it got sent to you. But there’s no return address, nothing to hint at where it’s supposed to go. So it sits on your counter, slipping out of your mind in the following weeks.  

The second letter sends a small shiver down your spine.

“you will be alone always and then you will die.” i can’t remember who told me that, but it rings around my head. there are days where it feels like it’s true, like time will catch up with me and I’ll be gone. but it’s not true. because I used to have you. but I’ll have you again.

Your eyes gloss over the words, a small frown slipping onto your face. Something melancholic sinks into you, making a home in your chest.

“You will be alone always and then you will die,” you whisper to yourself, fingers grazing over the sloppy letters. You feel guilty that the writer’s thoughts are stuck with you instead of this person they so desperately miss.

Yet there’s something unyielding about the last line, something so definite. Curiosity fills you, and you can’t help but to want to get the letter to where it’s supposed to be. But like the first letter, there’s no return address, no signature, nothing outside of the longing in the letter.

So it sits on the counter with the first, the weight of the words lingering in your chest until it too is forgotten.

_________________________________

You’re sitting on a hill, watching as the stars plummet down. Someone’s sitting next to you, but when you turn to face him, he stays blurry as if he exists on the edges of reality, unable to be fully perceived.

You watch as a rainbow of flames overtake him and recede, further obscuring him. But the flames continue to cycle in and out, a constant ebb and flow. You know who he is.

He flickers, you cannot touch him. You place your hand on the flames. Nothing burns. When you look up again, the hill is gone. You're sitting in inky darkness, watching as the stars continue to fall all around you. And the boy is gone too. In his place is something of shadow and smoke, two gleaming blue eyes tearing into you. You freeze, unable to do anything but stare.

It stalks towards you slowly, grinning to show rows of sharp teeth. You know what it wants, you can feel the need across the space in between you too. And so close your eyes and tilt your neck, offering yourself up. And you don’t scream when it takes the first bite.

“I’m always on your side.”

You wake up in a cold sweat, heart pounding. You’re awake now, but you feel like the stars are still falling around you and him - right.

Touya.

His name blossoms in your head, memories of laughter and secrets told underneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Your head's pounding, and you run to the bathroom, splashing water on your face. That night, the last night you had seen him, when you watched the stars streak across the sky.

“I’m always on your side.”

A promise that withered into something shallow after he disappeared.

You blink at your reflection, fists curled into themselves so tightly it hurts. You wish Touya could hold your hand now.

You don’t go back to sleep.

_________________________________

The third letter makes you frown a little. Three makes a pattern.

Really wish you would say something back. Has it been that long? Guess that’s to be expected.

You scan the page, melancholic thoughts lingering until you read the last line. Your eyes widen, heart leaping in your throat, as you read it over and over again. Your hands are shaking, mind cloudy, breath short.

Really, say something back y/n.

Your name, clear as day. They know your name. You’re the recipient. You blink blankly as a line from the previous letter pops into your brain. I’ll have you again.

The letter sits untouched on the counter for days before you finally build up the courage to tentatively write back. Who is this?

As you shakily write, it dawns on you how stupid this is. You should be going to the police, or getting a security system. But you can’t help but wonder who it is, and the fickle beast inside of you rears its head.

You tentatively place the response under the doormat, and scurry back inside, as if the action would burn you. The next morning the note is gone.

_________________________________

It takes a few days for you to get a response. When you get home from work, you’re tempted to walk right past it, pretending to not see it. You could just let it slip from your mind, go on with your life as if nothing has changed. But nothing can ever be simple, and with shaking hands, you steal the letter before locking yourself inside.

I can imagine how scared you must be. I bet you’d look so cute. Part of me wants to make you guess. But I’d rather speed this up. It’s me. Y’know. Touya.

“Touya,” you whisper. It’s heavy on your lips. “Touya.” Your throat is raw. “Touya, Touya, Touya.” Your chest burns. Tufts of red hair, memories of childhood and shooting stars.

Brain pulsing in overdrive, you try to reconcile what you know to be true and what is being told to you.

1. Touya was your best friend.

This one is a fact. You remembered holding his hand, running around the estate. He would be battered, bruises and burns littering his skin. Right. His father. You shiver thinking about the man.

2. Touya disappeared as a child.

Another fact. You remember his mom’s tear-stained face as she turned you away, and when you were back home, safe in bed, you cried so hard you thought you’d never stop shaking.

3. Touya is still alive.

The first in your list that is debatable. No one’s seen him for years. It’s fully possible something horrible could have happened to him. But there’s no evidence he’s dead. If you can reason that Touya is still alive, then it’s possible…

4. Touya is sending you letters. 

The most difficult conclusion of all. If Touya is alive, it could be possible he’s sending you letters. But there’s no way to guarantee it is him. It could be some stranger, some pervert pretending to be your sweet redhead from childhood. You would have to test him.

Your response is careful, calculated as you try to navigate your emotions. Your hands shake as you write the final line, a question.

What was the last thing we did?

A small frown slips onto your face. It’s kind of a lame question, and yet it’s the best you can do. But it’s a baseline, a place to start.

His response comes almost immediately.

We watched a meteor shower. Go ahead. Dig deeper.

You chew on your lip while thinking. “Touya” is off to a good start, but there’s still no guarantee. So you push farther

Where did we hide the bowl I accidentally broke?

C’mon, it was a vase, not a bowl. We buried it along the fenceline. Good try.

You smile at the memory, the way you had cried over the broken porcelain, embarrassment coursing through you. Touya had helped you hide the evidence, telling you no one would find out.

What did you promise me?

I’m always on your side.

You inhale sharply, eyes glued to his messy scrawl. That’s it. It has to be him. You’ve never told that to anyone before. You squeeze your eyes shut, but you can see stars falling all around you. You feel a little light headed.

How did you find me?

Pure chance. I missed you, y/n. Does your face scrunch up when you get mad still? It was so fucking cute.

Shut the fuck up, Touya.

You don’t know how he’s done it, but Touya has inserted himself back into your life, whisking you off your feet with his stupid jokes and laid back attitude. And everyone in a while he’ll say something, that has you burying your face into your pillow, face warm and stomach in knots.

I’m going to hold you, and never let you go.

Would you let me kiss you? Would you let me sink my teeth into you? I bet you would.

I’d kiss you until you melt.

That one in particular made your chest burn, full of something warm and sappy. You read it over and over again, until the words are branded in your brain.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table at 2 am when you realize, you would. You would let him kiss you, let him sweep you off your feet. It occurs to you that you don’t know what he looks like anymore, but his words reach into you, stirring everything around to the point that you’re completely enamored anyways.

A sharp knock draws you from your thoughts. You narrow your eyes, glancing at the clock. Hesitantly, you approach your front door. You hover right in front of it, debating on whether or not to open it again. There’s a chance that no one’s even there anymore.

A second forceful knock makes your stomach flip. Taking a deep breath, you crack the door open.

Your eyes widen, and you're deafened by the blood pumping through you. Patchwork skin, pitch-black hair; you feel yourself begin to panic. 

Dabi. You recognized him from the Fukuoka fight that was on TV. You slam the door shut before he has a chance to say anything.

“No, no, no. Don’t do this to me y/n.” His voice is muffled by the door, but the separation doesn’t hide the way his voice barely cracks. You feel sick, brain cloudy as the room spins around you.

“How do you know my name?” you choke out, stomach growing nauseous.

“I thought we already did this… but you can’t recognize me either.” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wracking your brain for what he could be talking about.

“After all those letters.” 

Oh.

Oh.

Your stomach drops, and your heart does with it. Dabi is Touya. Touya is Dabi. You tremble against the door, flashes of red hair and childhood innocence ghosting through your mind. You should’ve paid more attention to how he found you.

“Open the door.” Touya’s voice- no Dabi’s voice? You shake your head at the confusion, finding it difficult to reconcile the two versions of him you know. Regardless, his voice is even now, something sharp lingering beneath the soft surface.

You shut your eyes, letting your head rest against the door; it’s all too much for you. You can practically feel the tears stinging the back of your eyes. Maybe he’ll go away, maybe you don’t have to have a breakdown in the middle of the night.

“Open up for me, Y/N.”

You blink your eyes open, something cold slipping down your spine. He’s not going away. He could burn the door down if he wanted to. You know what he does now, and you feel so fucking stupid. The fact that he’s asking is an unexpected kindness. Summoning all the willpower you have, you open the door, hand grasping the handle to avoid shaking.

Dabi’s head tilts to the side as his eyes meet yours, and a sharp grin pulls at his lips.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?” Your eyes dip to the floor, and you stumble to the side, closing the door as he brushes past you.

You awkwardly stand in front of him, fingers messing with the hem of your shirt as you try to control your breathing. Your stomachs in your throat as Dabi circles you. He is not the boy you knew. There’s an edge to him, a coldness radiating off of him that rolls into you.

“Now you can’t even look at me,” he sneers. Your gaze tilts up to meet him, trembling his words. Your heart lurches as you take in his appearance again. The puckered flesh, the staples, the jet black hair. It’s all too much.

But his eyes.

His eyes are the same, the same vivid blue that haunts your dreams. It hurts looking at him now, but it also hurts remembering what he was.

Hesitantly, you reach out to cup his face. He tenses under your touch, eyes flashing in warning. You swallow past the lump in your throat, forcing out a small “hi.” Your voice cracks under the weight of emotions, but his eyes soften, and he ever so gently tilts his head into your hand. And that’s enough.

A steady stream of tears leak from your eyes; you’re not completely sure why you’re crying, the emotions too jumbled, too complex to pinpoint a specific reason. Your thumb brushes over the marred skin under his eyes, and you feel sick. Like everything that’s wrong with the world has reared its ugly head in your apartment. But it hasn’t. It’s Touya. 

“Awww. Baby girl’s crying for me, huh?” he teases, making you narrow your eyes. He moves quickly, pulling you against him before you can step away. “Still the same crybaby from before.” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore the way your head’s spinning.

“What else am I supposed to do?” you bite back, letting your head rest against him. “I missed you.” He scoffs at that, hands sliding down to grip your waist.

Your breath stutters, and you squirm in his hold, unsure what to think. His grip tightens, making you wince. You pull your head back to look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. Touya leans in close, eyes glued to you.

“Glad you missed me,” he mutters, and the borderline painful grip switches to something softer as he massages your flesh. “I missed you too, Y/N.” His voice rumbles through you softly, making your stomach flip. His tongue darts out of his mouth to flash across your cheek, licking the salty trail your tears left behind.

“Touya, what the fuck?”

You jerk away from him, sputtering as he throws his head back in laughter. Your skin feels too hot, and you struggle to put together a thought. You wiggle out of his grasp, wiping your face, and glaring at him.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that,” he laughs, obviously not taking this seriously. But you just shake your head, trying to squash all of your feelings.

“What do you want?” Your voice bends under the stress, and you face screws up, trying to stop the pathetic flow of tears.

“To see you,” he murmurs, eyes softer than before. The feelings behind the phrase are normally enough to make you giggle and your eyes turn into hearts. 

But this is Touya, or Dabi, or some bizarre amalgamation of the two. And you know what he’s done now. You know the price he’s paid. He is not the same.

“That’s not an answer. You shouldn’t be here,” you bite at him. All traces of warmth leave Dabi’s face, and your stomach drops. Something cold and sharp glints in his eyes, threatening to cut you if you get too close. You take a tiny step back, but he simply follows.

“Don’t be like this, Y/N.” His voice is tense, a warning of who he is now, what he’s done, what he could do to you. He cocks his head to the side, eyes trailing over you, gauging your reaction. He’s not the same. You know he’s not the same. His patchwork skin is proof of that enough.

It’s not fair. Echoes of childish giggles and burning blue eyes dance across your thoughts. But what he had done to all those people…You shut your eyes, crossing your arms as if you could hold yourself together.

“Well, what am I supposed to think? You were gone, for so long. And then you sent those fucking letters, and all I could think of was seeing you again. But you’re…” you trail off, but the unsaid hangs heavy in the air.

“Broken,” he hisses out, cold eyes narrowed at you as he gestures to his body. You glare right back at him, tears still flowing.

“It has nothing to do with that,” you manage to force out. “I just- I just don't know who you are.” Dabi’s face twists up into something bitter and forceful, a hurricane that’ll sweep you into something dangerous, you just know it. He is not the same.

“I wrote you those letters, Y/N. I’m still me.” But you don’t know who that is. Not anymore. He abruptly steps forward, forcing you against the wall, eyes wide in panic. He’s too close to your face, too warm, too overwhelming. 

You missed him so much, and it hurts. It hurts to see what happened, how he had to put himself back together, a dull mosaic that’s missing pieces. He reaches out to brush his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I’m always on your side.”

If it had been anyone else but Touya, you would’ve scoffed and kicked them out. But he knows you. He knows how you think, he knows what’ll make you respond. 

After all, he’s been watching you, making sure he knows how to say that’ll make you bend to his will. Touya wants you, his sweet best friend, to be his forever. So he knows what to say.

And something in you finally gives in, and you wrap arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He slips his arms around your waist, holding you flush against him.

Your knees wobble, legs failing you as you melt to the ground. Touya follows you down, arms circling around you tighter as he smiles into your hair.

Fuck the league. Fuck his family. Fuck a normal life. Fuck, the whole world can burn down. He doesn’t give a fuck. But maybe, just maybe if there’s anyone out there listening, just let him have this. Just this once.

“That’s my baby girl,” he murmurs against you, pulling you into his lap. He kicks out his legs behind you, bending his knees to force snug against him. If he were a better man, he’d be content with this, having you on his side.

But Touya is not a good man. He’s greedy for more, and all he can think about is the heat radiating from your cunt.

His hands splay out against your back, gently rubbing you as you sniffle against him. But he can’t help it when his hands start to travel further down. You sound so cute and desperate, it ignites something within him. He squeezes the flesh of your ass, making you freeze against him. You lean away, lips trembling as your eyebrows draw together.

“Touya, what are you doing?” You sound pathetic to your own ears, and you hate it. But you’re not given any time to dwell on it when he leans forward, lips a few mere centimeters from yours. He rocks you gently against him, watching the conflict in your eyes.

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning to peck the corner of your lips. “I’m always on your side. Let me make you feel good.”

You stay stiff against him, hands slowly tangling into his hair as he litters the side of your neck with sloppy kisses. One of his hands pushing its way down your little shorts making you gasp. You can feel his erection growing beneath you, and you bite your lip, trying to make a decision to stop him or not.

“Touya,” you ask, “are you sure?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” You’re not 100% sure if this is the right decision, but he feels so good against you. And he’s handsome, scars and all. The intense warmth from earlier slipping into something more comforting, enveloping you as you rock against his hand ever so slightly.

So you don’t stop him. He would never hurt you, right? And it's been a while since you’ve gotten laid. Touya’s made sure of that. So you let him continue his exploration, melting against him as he gently rubs at your clit.

Touya watches your face, memorizing the expressions you make as he slips a finger into your hot cunt. To be clear, he’s seen your face when you’ve creamed around your little fingers on your own, unaware that he was stroking his cock outside your window. But you look so much better, happier even, when it’s his fingers you’re grinding into.

He nips at your neck, before pulling his fingers out of your shorts. He pushes you off of his lap, rolling his eyes at the way you pout.

“Calm down, baby girl. Wanna taste you.”

“Wait!” you warn. Touya freezes, eyes flicking up to yours, taking you in curiously. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” you stutter out, nervous at the look in his eyes. You can’t help but to feel embarrassed, laying on the floor of your apartment sputtering with your childhood best friend turned villain nestled against the apex of your thighs. Anything that can restore an ember of normalcy to the situation would make you feel better at this point.

Touya rests his head against your thigh, warmth returned to his eyes. He smiles at you a little too widely, too sharply. He resembles a predator, something stalking alone at night. Something you shouldn’t have let inside. He’s going to eat you alive. And maybe you’re okay with it.

“Alright, little girl. Lead the way.”

An awkward, hot tension surrounds you as you scrabble off the floor, grabbing his hand as you pull him towards the bedroom. Your thumb brushes over the staples, heart twisting at the feeling.

But the melancholic sting is forgotten once he’s leaving sharp little bites on your thighs, your clothes and his jacket tossed to a forgotten corner of your bedroom. His breath is hot against your exposed skin, goosebumps following his path to your hot cunt.

You’re nervous, still unsure of your current predicament. But Touya pinches your thigh, bringing your attention back to him as he watches as your thighs tense around him. His eyes meet yours, confident and sure of his place between your legs, and all of your uncertainty vanishes, consumed by the want and desire that fills you.

His eyes meet yours, clear and sharp, and he brings his hands to your pussy, thumbs pulling your folds open. His gaze drops, focused on your cunt, watching the way you clench around nothing. You squirm, embarrassed at the intensity of his stare.

“So wet already,” he mumbles, before his tongue swipes along your slit. You let out a small gasp, slamming your hand to your mouth in a lame attempt to gag yourself. Touya narrows his eyes, as he laps away, tongue flicking up to tease your clit, circling it but never touching the sensitive bud. You whine into your hand, trying to keep your hips still as he takes his time.

“Drop that hand.” The rumble of his voice travels through you, making you shiver. “Drop it, and I’ll touch this cute little clit.” Looking at him nervously, your hand falls tentatively, hovering above his hair, unsure if it’s okay to ground yourself there. Touya rolls his eyes, before pushing your hand down.

His tongue swipes at your clit making your hips jolt. He lets out a snort before repeating the action. Your grip in his hair is light, not wanting to hurt him; but your self-control goes out the door the second his lips make a seal around your clit.

He sucks at the throbbing bud, eyes lighting up at the way you buck against him, moaning loudly. Your fingers tangle into his hair, keeping him snug against your cunt. He slips a finger into your sopping hole, practically melting at how warm and wet it is. He needs to be inside you. Soon.

“Touya,” you moan, rocking in an attempt to increase the friction. He curls his finger inside of you, mouth still focused on your engorged bud. Your grip in his hair tightens, the pleasure that’s been simmering building rapidly.

“Gonna cum!” you squeal in warning. He doesn’t slow down, eyes trained on your face as your jaw drops, a choked noise clawing out of your throat. You tense around him, muscles quivering at the intensity of your orgasm. You whine and buck against him, and he lets you ride at your orgasm.

When his ministrations borderline into pain, you weakly push his head away, trying to catch your breath. He lets you pull away, eyes glimmering cruelly.

“That was fast.”

You whine in response, moving your hands to cover your face. Touya hisses, surging forward to yank your hands above your head. You wince as he squeezes, eyes narrowing on your face.

“Don’t hide what’s mine.” His lips pull back into a lazy grin as his eyes trail over your body, landing on your glistening cunt. “Gonna fuck you so good,” he mutters, mostly to himself. You blink stupidly at him when he lets you go, processing the fact that he’s kicked off his pants and taking his cock out.

Your eyes widen when you see the shiny piercings that gleam on his cock. It excites you, making your cunt clench around nothing. And yet your stomach drops when you finally realize that he’s bigger than you thought he would be. You bite your lip, trying to tame the swarm of nerves that take over the excitement.

“Touya, I think I need-” he cuts you off with a sloppy kiss. Your hips cant when you feel the head of his cock sliding along the lips of your pussy, his piercings tapping at your clit nicely. You’re not sure if you’re ready for him, and it simultaneously excites and terrifies you. But he leans on you, keeping you still with his body weight.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Open up for me,” he murmurs. And then next thing you know his lips are on yours, but you can’t help but to let out a cry against him when he thrusts his cock into you, bottoming out. He’s red hot inside of you, and tears prickle the corners of your eyes, leaking out as your nails dig into his back.

“So warm,” he murmurs, before pulling his hips back and thrusting into you. You cry out at the harsh stretch, tears falling down your cheeks as his piercings pull at your walls. He seems to like that though, and he brings a hand up to your cheek, thumb stroking the salty liquid. “You’re pretty when you cry.” He punctuates the sentence with a particularly harsh thrust, sending more tears down your face. “Attagirl,” he coos, looking absolutely enamored with your blubbering face.

“Touya, please,” you whine, not exactly sure what you’re asking for. But Touya seems to know, a sharp grin spreading wide on his face.

“Awww, does my baby girl wanna feel good too?” You nod, face twisted as you babble away.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll take good care of you.” He kisses you again messily, before slipping a hand in between your bodies to play with your exhausted clit. He massages the swollen bud, sighing as you start to gush around him. “Is that better?” You nod and whine, hands twisting in his hair to hold him against you.

Touya can’t help but chuckle, and he presses another kiss into your neck before sucking on the skin there. His thrusts are gentler now, appreciating the snug warmth that surrounds his cock. If he could stay buried in the heat of your cunt forever, he would.

He’s drawn from his thoughts when you tug at his shirt, wanting it gone. He stills against you, tensing. You look up at him with a pout, eyes begging him to take it off.

“Please,” you whine. “I wanna feel you.” His mouth opens, and you can already hear the annoying quip that lies on the tip of his tongue, so you push forward, hands tangled into his shirt. “I wanna feel all of you.” He pauses, head tilting to the side as you watch the gears turn behind his eyes.

“Please.” Your voice is soft, as you try to avoid squirming around his dick. Something seems to click in his mind because he draws back, pulling his shirt off. Your eyes wander across the expanse of stapled skin, the puckered burns, making your heart squeeze. But there’s nothing you can say, nothing you can change. So you reach out to him, beckoning him into your arms.

He falls forward, barely supporting himself, letting his body cover yours. You wrap your arms and legs around him holding him close as he begins to lightly thrust again.

“You feel so good,” you cry out panting against his face. Touya angles his head to face you, eyes boring into yours as his breaths mix with yours. It’s too hot, too much, but you can’t move away, overwhelmed by the sensations and entranced by his eyes.

Touya’s hips increase in pace, rutting violently against yours, the sharp sting of his skin against yours making you whine. Each thrust into you, steals your breath away, your hands digging into his back.

“Ever since I found you again, I needed to have you, needed you back. I wasn’t going to let myself lose you again,” he growls. You whimper as you gush around him, finding that you want him to stay buried in your pussy forever.

“Stick out your tongue,” he barks out. His eyes flash, and you do as he says, all while letting out little gasps as he thrusts into you. He hovers above you, a cruel grin spread out on his face. You watch as he spits onto your tongue, a shudder going down your spine. He reaches out to grip your open jaw harshly.

“Swallow.” When he lets go you do exactly that, cunt squeezing tightly. “Oh you like that?” he laughs as you nod. He hums before kissing you sloppily.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re gonna do what I say from now on. I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”

You should be alarmed by the promise of obedience, but you feel too good to care right now.

“Mine, mine, mine.”

It crosses your mind to tell him that you don’t belong to him, but all you can do is nod and hold him closer.

“Wanted to be inside this pussy the moment I saw you. You’re never gonna want another cock than mine.” At this point, all you can do is whine and nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Nothing’s gonna hurt you again, baby girl. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll take care of you.” Your nails scratch down his back, making him hiss, as your hips rut against him.

“Touya,” you cry out, tears leaking from your eyes so sweetly. “Gonna cum again.” He nods, lips brushing against yours.

“Wanna feel you cream around me, baby girl.” You nod blankly, drunk on the feeling of his cock pounding into you, piercings pulling so nicely at your gummy walls.

Propping himself up with one arm, he slips his hand in between your bodies, fingers playing with your clit again. It’s enough to send you over the edge, and you cry out, writing against him as your pussy gushes around his cock, squeezing him tightly.

He chokes against you, and your pulsating cunt launches him into his own orgasm. Touya’s hips jerk against you as his cum paints the inside of your cunt. He collapses against you as you twitch in a post-orgasmic haze. He nips at your neck, alternating the sharp stings with sweet kisses.

“You did so good, baby. So good to me. I’ll take care of you. I promise,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shiver. You’re still panting, sweeping your hands over his back, before they land in his hair, gently scratching at his scalp. He shuts his eyes, enjoying the sensations and the warmth, letting himself get lost in you, if only for a little bit.

But when he pushes himself off of you, pulling his hips away, you whine. Your legs lock around him, keeping him lodged inside you. He barks out a laugh before flopping down on his side, pulling you against him.

“I’ll stay right here. Don’t worry.”

“Touya…” you murmur, gently. He sends you a questioning gaze, waiting. You lean forward, pressing your lips against his, trying to convey the complexity of what you’re feeling. He responds aggressively, as if you might disappear. But it makes you melt. Maybe he was right about that.

 When you draw back, his thumb strokes at leftover tears on your cheek.

“It’s okay, You’re mine now.” It’s not exactly what you wanted to hear, but it’s all you get from him because he pulls you tight against him, eyes shutting in exhaustion.

You curl up against him, feeling his breathing even out. His cock feels heavy inside of you, and something cold sits in your stomach.

You shouldn’t have done that. He’s not okay. You really shouldn’t have done that. But you would deal with that in the morning.

For now, Touya is yours, and you’ll enjoy the warmth of his skin and the way the stars fall when you shut your eyes.✨

[rjhpandapaws]

(Not) What I Wanted in a Second Chance

Ch 3: Cycle (I'll be There Next Time) TW: Death, grief, alcohol abuse, drunk driving, suicidal ideation

He got used to it eventually. Dread, much like regret and grief, were things that could be adjusted for if they stuck around long enough. This was a part of his life now. He would wake up, got to work with an android that wore the face of his dead partner, and go home to try and drink himself to death. When he survived the week because something out there hated him, he would visit the real Connor’s grave just to make sure he wasn’t losing his mind. It was routine by this point, morbid and likely not helping his health, but routine nevertheless. Today was shaping up to be the exact same. Hank managed to drag himself into the precinct a little earlier than he had the day before, and just like every other day the wrong Connor was waiting for him by his desk. He detoured to the breakroom to make himself some coffee. Connor wasn’t in stasis today which meant CyberLife had gotten ahold of something. When his coffee finished and he was out of procrastination options short of talking to Gavin, he made his way to his desk. “You are late Lieutenant.” Connor said, and his voice was just as stiff and lifeless as always, “It is almost noon.” “Yeah, yeah, fuck off.” He replied gruffly as he settled into his chair, “Tell me what we’re working with today. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.”

“There have been reports of a Deviant squatting in an unused apartment.” He continued, “We have been tasked with bringing it in.” He spoke again when Hank made no move to get up, “If we leave now it should be taken care of before this evening.” Hank sighed as he stood. From what he had been given about the situation, he didn’t understand why they had to be involved this time. All of the other androids they’d been sent to deal with had been violent in some way. This one didn’t seem to be a threat to anyone. Of course if he brought this up to Connor it would probably be brushed aside. So he kept it to himself as they walked to the car. The sooner they got this over with the sooner he could get home. He followed Connor’s directions to the complex and refrained from asking any more about the case. The questions he had weren’t ones Connor could answer. They weren’t task oriented. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know Connor’s answer to ‘why’ they had to go after this particular android if it wasn’t giving anyone trouble. He had the feeling he wouldn’t like it. This Connor was particularly ruthless in comparison to the human he had been based off of and it still gave Hank whiplash from time to time.  So he did his best to avoid emphasizing it.

The complex itself wasn’t anything to impressive. Which made sense, a nicer one might have had measures in place to prevent this. Things were fine until they got to the specific unit the android was suspected to have taken up residence in. When they got the door open there were birds everywhere. It put Hank on edge. Their company made clearing the apartment a little bit of a hassle. Much like the bathroom from the Ortiz case, Ra9 was written or etched into any available surface. All over the walls like before, and even in the pages of a notebook. It had been while Hank was looking at it that Connor had taken off. Hank took a moment to snap to attention and then followed after him. It became a rooftop chase, something that Hank was just barely equipped to handle. After being left hanging in a rather literal sense, he wasn’t in the best mood. When he caught up to Connor again it was just in time to see the android jump into the cornfield below. He stood there for a moment before moving to go down the fire escape. It was when he turned that he saw the combine. He yelled out a warning, but not in time. For the second time in his life he was forced to watch Connor die while he was too far away to do anything about it. He didn’t know how long it was before he stopped staring at the blue stained dirt and headed back to his car.

He didn’t go back to the station. He couldn’t. So he drove. First to a liquor store, and then to the cemetery. That was where people typically went to grieve the dead. When the kitchen table and revolver weren’t enough. He’d begun to drink on the way so the walk up to human Connor’s grave marker wasn’t something that he remembered. Neither was slumping against it, but once he was settled the dam opened fully. He cried until his eyes burned and the tears finally stopped. Twice Connor had slipped through his grasp. For a second time he hadn’t been fast enough. It didn’t matter that he hated the android with every ounce of himself. When it came down to the details he still hadn’t been there when Connor needed him. Just like before, and it was eating at him. He worked his way through the bottle of whiskey as the things he could have done haunted him. As he thought back to the corn field blue was replaced with red, and the head that rolled rotated between belonging to Connor or Cole. He let the bottle fall away once it was empty and kicked himself for not buying a second one. He still felt coherent. He leaned back against the headstone and sighed. “I’m sorry Connor.” He said, unsure if he was apologizing to one specifically, or to both of them, “I’ll do better next time.”

The fact that there would inevitably be a next time would have bothered him at any other moment. For now, it offered him the daydream of being able to save Connor. Even just once, it wouldn’t matter if it was the wrong one. Not right now at least, not when the only reminder of his former friend was a cold and ungiving grave marker. It was the cold that got to him eventually. Stiff and sore he made his way back to his car after picking up the empty bottle. He had left his phone in the car and checked it once he was settled. He had a missed call from Jeff. There was really no point in returning it this late in the day so he put it away and headed home. He apologized to Sumo for being late to feed him. There was a moment of hesitation when he stepped into his kitchen. He looked at the dining table where his revolver and usual glass sat, and then grabbed the bottle and made for his room. It took him a while to find the box of photographs that sat at the top of his closet, but once he had it he settled in his bed. Somewhere between drinks of whiskey and old fond memories sleep made itself known. His regrets would still be waiting for him in the morning as it was. Two Connors down. Tomorrow there would be a third waiting for him and the cycle would repeat itself.

[vermillionflames]

Fuegoleon x Female Y/N

Word Count: 2,020

Laundry Day

Summary: Captain Fuegoleon had a laundry room added to the Crimson Lion base to teach it's knights about chores and responsibilities. Y/N has never seen anyone use it, until one night her captain joins her for a wash.

Warnings: Semi / Public Sex, Fuegoleon being how he is, Talk of ballsacks, Cum, Adulthood Responsibilities

Having nice clothes was an unspoken rule of the Crimson Lions. No one left their rooms without looking their best, everyone even had silk robes for late night snack adventures around the base. However, those who lived at the base lacked certain resources they were accustomed to at home, maids, servants, and mamas to do their laundry. Could they have hired a few to help the hopeless royals and noble knights? Sure, but that wouldn’t bare them a lesson, so good ol’ Captain Fuegoleon had instead created a room full of ‘machines’ that would ‘wash their clothes.’ He had a very gaudy sign made for the door that had “laundry room” illustrated with too many frills, but what can we expect from a team that has Kings in their name. Nonetheless, most members went home often and took their washings with them. They’ll train day and night to put their life on the line for the kingdom, but god forbid they wash their own underwear, including the man who made the room. No one had ever seen him walking around the castle with a laundry basket on his hip.

But there were perks to this.

Y/N had the laundry room all to herself. She waited until late at night to spare herself the gossip of doing her own chores, but once everyone was settled into their dorms she made a beeline for the washers, adorning her robe so she could walk around if she felt like it and not get a “what are you doing up so late?” interrogation. Obviously no one else was in the room so she could use up as many machines as she wanted, taking time to sort out her delicate underwear and stained training clothes. A wicked idea crossed her mind. Y/N removed her robe and set it to the side, took over her silk pajama set and threw it into the delicate cycle, before putting her robe back on. Very little hid her from the world, but as far as she was concerned the “world” was asleep and wouldn’t dare to enter this room.

If she were a lady, which she was, she would just sit in and wait for the cycles to finish, but as the washers went through their cycles they made vibrations that just felt… good against her body. She leaned against it letting the vibrations help relax her sore arms and legs.

“Maybe if I lay down on all of them I’ll be able to get my whole body at the same time!”

Y/N turned her back to the machine, placing her palms on top in order to hoist herself up on top, but as she sat down she felt a different kind of relaxing vibration.

“I shouldn’t indulge in this behavior…. But no one is around to witness it…”

Y/N closed her eyes and allowed her body to relax while certain feelings went through her core. Her robe became looser as the cycle went on. Her eyes were closed and head was rolled back, but as she opened her mouth to let out a moan the door to the laundry room ripped open. Fast and quiet but it was enough for her to notice. Jerking her head up she saw her captain standing in the doorway, with a woven basket full of clothes in his arm.

She had a millisecond to cover herself from him.

“Cap-Captain! What are you doing here,” Y/N slammed her legs together while trying to close her robe.

He arched a brow at her, “Laundry, as one does in the laundry room… Why are you sitting on the machine?”

“I just… like the way it feels…” Idiot. Why would you say that?

Fuegoleon gave her the side eye while loading his own washer and added the soap like he’d been doing it for years. So pretty boy does his own laundry? Interesting. Y/N was still sitting on top of the washer, too scared of giving a free show if she moved.

“Are you going to sit on it until it’s done?”

“You know, it’s good for my sore muscles. Which I have because I’ve been training so hard!”

“Oh… well maybe I should try it too.”

Why was Captain Fuegoleon so… like this?

“Okay,” Y/N squeaked out and watched in horror as her captain climbed on top of the washing machine next to her, curiosity and excitement all over his face.

“I’m not sure I understand,” his eyes crossed in confusion as the vibes clearly did nothing for his ass and thighs.

So his balls aren’t big enough to touch the surface he sits on…

“Excuse me?”

Y/N’s face became very red, had she said that out loud?!

“You should try laying down on it!” She screeched out, motioning for him to use her lap as a pillow.

Fuegoleon’s eyes crossed, “You are absolutely right, Y/N! Thank you,” he moved his legs on top of the machine, resting his head on her thigh, which gave him a perfect very of her under breast.

“H-how’s that, Captain?”

“I can feel my muscles being stimulated! This is an amazing discovery, Y/N!”

“Thank you?”

“Oh! You should join me, come lay down next to me.”

Y/N looked down and the limited space on top of the machines.

“I’m not sure we will both fit, Captain.”

Fuegoleon followed her eyes, thinking.

“How about you lay on top of me and I rub your muscles, then we switch sides when your clothes are put in the dryer.”

Y/N felt something deep in her melt at the idea of getting a massage from her captain.

“O-okay.”

Fuegoleon lifted his head to give her room to remove herself. She stood on the ground, placed her hands on either side of his head and lifted herself on top of him. Hovering over him she remembered that she was naked under her robe, which was thin and now hanging off her body. She gulped and prayed he didn’t notice as she laid her body on top of his.

Without a word more, his hands went to her shoulders rubbing downwards in circular motions. It took everything in Y/N’s power to not moan whenever he stimulated a particularly sore part. It didn’t help that her hips were rested right above his and she could feel the vibrations through him.

The ringing of the finished cycle was her only salvation. Fuegoleon’s face looked funny as she lifted herself up to move her clothes to the dryer. She gave him a questioning look before a draft alerted her what was wrong. Her robe had moved open, stopping at her hard nipples. She flew her hands up to shut the fabric once more before jumping off of him.

“I am so sorry Captain,” she ripped open the washer door, “I think I would like to go to my room while my clothes dry,” Y/N was throwing her wet training clothes into the washer.

“Is there any particular reason why, Y/N,” Fuegoleon asked.

“No…” she turned around to find he had opened her other washer to help her, but had pulled out one tiny, lace thong. His eyes narrowed as he observed how it stretched between his two pointer fingers.

Y/N wanted to die right then and there.

“I wasn’t aware you were seeing someone,” was all he said as she chucked the underwear back into the machine and grabbed its contents completely.

“Wh-why would you say that,” she squeaked, taking the load from him and turning around to throw them in another dryer.

“You don’t wear those for training, do you,” his voice tickled her ear. Y/N’s eyes rolled from the sensation of its warmth.

“S-sometimes I do,” she slammed the door shut and messed with the settings

“Why,” he pushed her flush against the dryers, “Hoping someone might see them?”

“Captain…”

Fuegoleon removed himself from Y/N.

“I apologize, Y/N. It seems I misread you. Forgive me.” He sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room.

Y/N had 5 seconds to either go to her room or make a once in a lifetime decision. And she was brash so…

After hitting start on the dryer she slowly walked to her captain.

“I wear them hoping you will invite me to your dorm afterwards for a shared bath.”

Fuegoleon looked up from his lap. Y/N’s hands were on the tie of her robe. As he opened his mouth to speak she pulled on it and let it slide down her shoulders. Leaving herself completely bare to him.

His eyes became dark with hunger.

“Thank god,” he stood up and started throwing off his clothes, “I thought I had just made an ass of myself.”

Y/N had seen his naked chest before while training, but it was different now. She let her eyes move downward, she stopped to take in his throbbing cock. She gaped at its size. It would never fit in her mouth.

“Tell me, Y/N, are my balls still not big enough?”

A blush crept across her face, “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

“Then make it up to me.”

Y/N walked forward, stopped when their chest touched before dropping to her knees.

The pair maintained eye contact as Y/N reached out her tongue, giving his member a long lick. Fuegoleon nodded in approval. Y/N wrapped her mouth around the head, lightly sucking as she made her way down his shaft.

Fuegoleon growled in pleasure as Y/N bobbed her head. His cock was so long she could only get half of it in her mouth, gagging as she tried to fit in more. Fuegoleon pushed back her shoulders and lifted her up.

“I’d rather taste you than have you taste me, darling,” then laid her down on his washers which were still vibrating.

Fuegoleon put his hands on Y/N’s inner thighs, lightly massaging before spreading them open. His face was at level with her wet opening.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he purred before taking a long lick over her bundle of nerves. “You’re so sweet,” he sucked, hard.

Y/N reached for Fuegoleon’s hair, pulling it as she moaned on his tongue. He continued to take laps at her. Her pussy dripped down her curves and onto the washer.

“I want you,” Y/N whimpered.

Fuegoleon growled, continuing his feast.

“Please,” she shrieked as an orgasm ripped through her body.

“There we go,” he murmured, unbending his back.

Their eyes met, “Please,” Y/N repeated.

Fuegoleon pulled Y/N to the edge of the washer, “There is nothing that would make me happier.”

He lined his cock up with her vagina, taking his time sinking inside of her. Y/N gasped as his member hit her innermost wall.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he leaned down to suck on her nipple, “You feel so good.” Fuegoleon slowly pulled out, almost completely, before ramming himself back inside. He did it again and again. Y/N was a wet, mewling mess beneath him.

“Fuegoleon,” she cried as his cock hit her most sensitive spot.

“That’s what I was looking for, do you like that, Y/N?”

He taunted her, hitting the spot repeatedly. All Y/N could do was moan and scream.

“Good girl,” he latched his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure.

She tightened around him, signalling she was close. He twitched in response.

“Together,” he growled, “We come together.” Y/N nodded.

A final thrust was their undoing, Y/N spasmed around him, shaking with the washer. Fuegoleon spilled inside her, so deep and hot. He stayed sheathed inside her while he caught his breath, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“That was…”

“Amazing,” Y/N answered. He gave her a smile.

The beep of his washer was their signal to get put together.

“I’m hoping you’ll join me in my room to fold our clothes once we’re done, Y/N.”

And she was more than inclined to agree.