#also please i tried but hands are just impossible to draw pls be kind

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Drown In My Desire

also on ao3

written for the Monster March prompt list prompt: siren pls see ao3 for the full list of tags, this is... something edit: some formatting got fucked up and I had to make some adjustments, sorry if there are any wonky bits now 😅

Geralt is barely off the boat back from Skellige when he hears about the contract. There's a lone Siren causing trouble along one of the trading routes; drawing the ships closer until they wreck on the jagged rocks of the bay. The fishermen complain loudly about it as he disembarks and as soon as his feet hit dry land, Geralt makes straight for them. It's basic Siren behaviour, likely to be an easy job and then back on his way.

The men are offloading barrels and Geralt keeps out of the way as he approaches the one giving orders.

"Heard you've got a Siren problem," he says and the man straightens up to look him over.

"Aye, we do. You're a Witcher, right? You'll take care of it for us?"

"What are you offering?"

"Godsdamn anything at this point. Things wrecked six shops, we've lost 11 good men, countless hours of labour... Name your price, Witcher, we'll pay it."

"Five hundred," Geralt suggests.

"Fine by me. Bring back proof of the kill and you'll get your coin."

"Agreed." Normally, Geralt would request half in advance, but he's dealt with Novigradian merchants before and they're reputable and trustworthy most of the time. Plus, this is a simple contract, probably not even worth the 500 he asked for.

He stays to get the rest of the details from the merchant, then heads into town to rent a room at the Kingfisher. He won't be in town long, but he may as well have somewhere comfortable to sleep when he inevitably comes back cold and wet.

Geralt bribes a local fisherman to take him out to the bay or as close to it as possible - no one will go right in any longer. They moor on the far side and Geralt disembarks, thanking the man and paying him a generous fee for his service. He didn't have to bring him out here, and many other men wouldn't dare go this far.

He hears the song immediately and it makes him pause. Geralt has heard the Siren song before, has even fallen under its spell in the past, and this is not it. This is a Siren, for sure, and he is singing, but his song is... sad. Geralt frowns as he makes his way over the swell of the hill, the beach sprawling out before him in a wide arc.

It's sandy, devoid of rocks and debris but the tide is down and large, jagged rocks break the surface of the water. Waves roll up gently onto the shore and Geralt scans the shoreline, looking for any sign of the Siren. The song is coming from the far side of the small bay, but he sees nothing.

Readjusting the belts across his chest, he makes his way down to the beach and across the sand.

He spots him shortly, tucked under a shelf of rock out of the sun, curled around himself. Geralt thinks at first, that he may be injured, hence the despair in his song, but as he approaches he recognizes a sense of desperation in the tune. Approaching further, he catches the creature's interest and he looks up at him, his confusion a mixture of desperation and fear and resignation. Geralt looks him over as he approaches, not trusting the Siren not to jump out and attack. He knows well enough they're crafty and wouldn't stop short of setting a trap in dire situations.

But when Geralt is within a few feet, the Siren still makes no sign of wanting to hurt him. If anything, he looks miserable to have been discovered and Geralt does a quick once-over for injuries. There are none visible, but as the Siren unfurls himself, stretching out to his full length, Geralt pauses.

He doesn't know a lot about Siren anatomy past what a sorcerer will pay for what, but he's seen enough pricks in his life to know one when he sees it.

Jaskier whines internally and shuts up as soon as he sees the figure approaching. He was trying to attract... well, not him. Not a Witcher. He needs someone to solve his problem, not to be killed as the solution to someone else’s. But maybe that would be better than going through this every five years out here alone. Maybe the Witcher will be kind and put him out of his misery and then- well, at least he wouldn't be stuck here on his own like this.

But the man approaches and doesn't do anything. He just looks, walking closer until Jaskier could nearly reach out and touch him. Slowly, as non-threateningly as he can, he uncoils himself to prove he's not a threat. His cock aches and he's reminded of the fact that it's very blatantly on display, but that's the least of his problems now.

"You're the one who's been wrecking ships?" the Witcher asks and well, yes, Jaskier assumes that's his fault.

He's seen the wreckage washing up on shore, seen the men floating lifeless amongst the waves. He tries to help, but in this state, it's impossible to do much before the burning need overtakes him again and he's rendered useless.

"I didn't-" he starts, but he doesn't think a Witcher will care whether he meant to or not. He just wants a companion, wants someone to help ease this ache as his own attempts aren't helping any longer, he didn't mean for the humans to get in the way.

"Didn't what?"

"Didn't mean for them to get hurt." Jaskier doesn't look at him, but the Witcher is quiet for some time and then,

"It’s... a mating song?" he guesses and something in Jaskier’s stomach twists uncomfortably that he could figure it out so quickly. Jaskier avoids his eyes looking instead at the way the sand coats the toes of his boots.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Jaskier's head snaps up at that and he looks the Witcher dead in the eye. He's never heard of a monster being given a chance to tell their side of the story, to redeem themself. The Witcher drops to the sand, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his thighs.

"I-" Jaskier starts, unsure if this is some sort of twisted game. "I just- I was hoping someone might be nearby to hear-" he feels pathetic, his only consolation the fact that the Witcher doesn't know that he came here willingly, he left his family willingly to go out and explore the vast oceans and now he’s miserable.

"How long have you been here?" the Witcher asks, "you've never caused problems before now."

"Before now I wasn't-" he rolls his eyes in frustration at himself, slapping his tail against the sand. "Sirens," he starts again, "go through cycles. I'm in heat and I'm alone and every attempt I've made to reach out has only ended in ruin." Jaskier scowls at his own confession.

"I tried to help," he adds solemnly, "I just... I can't focus, I don't have the strength to pull them to the surface- I tried," he persists, "but I'm not much use like this." His cock aches and he groans at the timing. "I hardly think that deserves a death sentence." He wraps his tail protectively around himself, hiding the evidence of his situation.

"Not here to hurt you," the Witcher explains, "just here to keep people from dying. I could... help?"

Jaskier starts at the offer, his wings snapping tight against his back. "What do you mean, help?"

The Witcher huffs a light laugh and Jaskier tries not to be too hopeful. He's never strayed beyond his race, though he knows many who have and if he were to, well, the Witcher isn't awful to look at. In fact, Jaskier thinks, taking in his shining golden eyes and shock-white hair tied back in a loose bun, he’s quite lovely.

"Now, I know you're not stupid," the Witcher says, almost sounding amused. "The offer’s there. I'll help if you stop with the singing."

Maybe it's the need coursing through him, or maybe it's the fact that no one has ever been so kind to him before, or maybe there's just something about this man's smile that makes him weak. Jaskier agrees.

"Not here," he says. "Can you swim?" The Witcher cocks an eyebrow at him. "I'd prefer not to have to do this out in the open where anyone could just wander upon us. I do have some sense of decorum."

"Where are we going?"

"Home," Jaskier says simply. "It's not far." He shifts in the sand, sitting up and gesturing out toward the sea. "A human could make the swim, surely a Witcher can as well."

"Fair enough. I'm Geralt, by the way. And I can swim."

"Jaskier."

He squirms in the sand, trying to force his cock to withdraw, but it's no use. Geralt rises, kicking off his boots and removing his gear, tucking it away into a crevice in the rock. He bends down, scooping Jaskier into his arms. It's a shock and Jaskier is helpless to do anything but wind his arms around Geralt's neck and hold on, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the way his cock juts out obscenely, betraying him.

Geralt walks into the waves, releasing Jaskier as soon as the water is up to his waist. He holds his breath, lets Jaskier take his hand, and follows him down beneath the surf. Jaskier feels marginally better out of the sun and sand, in the cool water, but not much. He swims quickly, eager to return home and get on with... whatever Geralt has in mind to help.

He ducks into the narrow tunnel, dropping Geralt's hand and gesturing for him to follow behind. He does, and Jaskier leads the way back to an underwater cave. Glowing coral grows near the ledge of rock, where the water gives way to open air again. It gives off a little light, but Jaskier can see perfectly well and he knows Witchers have night vision.

He slips up onto the stony cave floor and offers a webbed hand to Geralt as he breaks the surface. To Geralt's credit, he only seems a little out of breath as he's hauled up out of the water.

Jaskier flops back on his side, watching the way Geralt rises to his feet, tugging his soaked shirt off and wringing the water from it. His trousers remain in place and Jaskier finds himself disappointed, curious to see what's hidden beneath. But this isn't a fun romp for the sake of it; this is an agreement, Geralt is simply doing him a favour.

When he seems pleased with the state of his shirt, Geralt lays it out and lies down next to him, lining his body up with Jaskier's. He's... stunning up close and it takes more of his effort than it should not to simply reach out and touch him just for the sake of it. He remembers fucking other Sirens, the touching, the press of bodies - he misses it, and he finds himself wishing this was something more than a simple favour. But that's selfish; Geralt is already offering him so much, for so little in return and nothing, even, for himself.

"You'll have to walk me through it," Geralt says with a smile, "I've never fucked a Siren before."

"Oh. You can just... touch me?" Jaskier says and Geralt reaches out tentatively, slipping a hand over the swell of his hip.

"Like this?"

Jaskier nods. It's not exactly what he wants, but it does feel nice and he's not about to try and direct. Geralt's hesitation is short-lived and he slides his hand up Jaskier's chest, brushing his thumb over a nipple and Jaskier's breath catches. He watches the movement of Geralt's hand as his fingers press into his skin, warm, despite the swim through cool water.

He shifts slightly, leaning up on one arm and pressing back down, over the swell of Jaskier's hip and he tugs him forward before abruptly before dragging his fingers up the length of Jaskier's swollen cock. He's slow, but delicate like he's learning his way around, but it feels incredible and it's hard for Jaskier not to just thrust up into the touch and take the pleasure from his hands.

Geralt's fingers slip over the ridge at the base of him, curling around him beneath it and squeezing as he pulls up over it.

"What is this?" he asks. He sounds intrigued, curious, and Jaskier can't help but indulge him.

"'S hard to fuck underwater," he hums, moaning as Geralt's fingers reach the tip of his cock. One dips into the slit, pressing against it, and Jaskier whimpers. "Keeps me from... slipping out." The noise Geralt makes in response is hard to determine, but it sounds interested. He moves his hand back down to squeeze around the ring.

His fingers slip over the swell of skin, pressing against it and running his thumb along the edge. He likes it, Jaskier realizes. It prods at something inside him and he presses his hips forward encouragingly.

"Does that feel good?" Geralt asks and Jaskier nods, pressing his forehead against his arm to keep from moaning out loud. He wants to show his appreciation, wants Geralt to know he can do as he pleases with him, but he doesn't want to push too hard.

Geralt’s light touches grow bolder, pressing more firmly, jerking him quickly and firmly and as Jaskier whines and squirms beneath him, Geralt grows more confident. His fingers slip down, pressing between the folds of his sheath, pressing right down to the base of his cock and within. No one has touched him like this before, the sharp jab of a Siren's claws not conducive to pressing inside.

Something warm spreads through his chest and he finds himself pulling away, embarrassed by how vulnerable he suddenly feels letting a stranger touch him this way, a Witcher no less. Immediately, Geralt withdraws his hands and the look on his face implies worry.

"Sorry," he blurts, then softer, "tell me if it's too much."

"No, I just. No one's ever-"

"I'll stop."

"No," Jaskier says again, a little too abruptly. "No, it was good, it just... caught me off guard." Geralt doesn't wait to be told twice, but his fingers move more slowly as they slip back into place at the base of his cock. Jaskier gives a little thrust on encouragement and Geralt presses his palm against him, giving him something to rut against while he explores.

Jaskier rocks against him, burying his face in his arm as the need takes over. Given an inch, he's no longer able to control himself, so needy for it that he's invited a perfect stranger into his home to fuck him. But Geralt doesn't seem to mind his desperation, doesn't mention it. He picks up quickly on Jaskier's most sensitive spots, going back to rub over them, pressing his thumb beneath the swollen ring and Jaskier's mind goes blank with the pleasure of it.

He's never noticed how sensitive it is there; the use of hands in Siren coupling is rare and limited to squeezing and jerking, not prodding and rubbing like Geralt does so easily. It's hardly Jaskier's fault that he can't contain himself in the face of this new, wonderful sensation.

The swell of his climax creeps up on him slowly, his mind too preoccupied with where Geralt's fingers are and what they're doing. It's not until Geralt wraps around the base of him, pushing as far into his sheath as his fingers with reach, that Jaskier realizes how close he is. His hips jerk hard and Geralt's other hand shoots out to steady him, holding him close as Jaskier writhes against him.

There's not much else he can do like this, just squirm and try to press as much of his cock against Geralt's palm as he can. Otherwise, he's under Geralt's control, letting him do what he wants, take him apart as he will. Geralt's thumb presses along the underside of his cock, pressing up toward the tip and Jaskier jerks hard as his orgasm washes over him, spilling over Geralt's hand and up his arm.

His hips twitch, cocking slipping easily against Geralt's arm with his own spend to slick the way. He'd be embarrassed, coming so quickly with so little stimulation to anything but his cock, but Geralt hums, sounding very pleased.

He continues touching him, fingers slipping through his spend and using it as slick, rubbing down the full length of him and rubbing against the slit at the tip.

"Good?" he asks and Jaskier can only nod and whimper, still struggling to catch his breath.

Geralt leans in, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck abruptly and Jaskier shifts onto his back to allow him better access. He likes the warmth of Geralt's breath on his neck, the soft press of his lips and the occasional flick of his tongue against his skin. Geralt says nothing as his kisses become firmer, pressing down the column of his throat and down his chest.

His hand remains on Jaskier's cock, stroking slowly as he kisses down the length of his body, not even pausing as pale skin gives way to shimmering scales. He seems unbothered by it and Jaskier likes the feeling of his lips on his tail. Geralt doesn't release his cock until he's moved fully down the length of Jaskier's body, straddling the end of his tail.

Geralt kisses around the base of his cock, not touching it but for the barest brush of his cheek as he passes. Jaskier holds his breath in anticipation, arching off the bed with each kiss that gets closer to where he wants it. When Geralt's lips finally press against him, he lets out a strangled groan and arches off the ground, hands immediately and automatically groping for Geralt's shoulder.

Geralt kisses up the length of him, teasing the tip with his tongue before moving back down again. Jaskier wants his mouth, wants to feel that wet heat around him, so different than the cool touch of one of his own kind. It wouldn't be the first time he's had a mouth around his cock, but he's used to sharp teeth, to slow and cautious strokes. When Geralt gets his mouth around him, he's anything but.

The moment Geralt's lips wrap around him, quick and eager, sliding his tongue over him and pressing his lips in close, holding him tight as he sinks right to the base. His tongue presses in where his fingers had been and Jaskier knows now that he likes exploring, likes discovering what makes Jaskier squirm and taking advantage of it. And he's incredibly good at it.

His fingers that had, up until now, been happily settled on his hips, push up to brush against his skin. One hand remains, seeking out the smallest part of his waist and settling in the dip as the other moves down again. Jaskier's foggy mind suggests that he intends to wrap around the base of his cock, but Geralt gets distracted somewhere between. His fingers pass over Jaskier’s slit and he pauses. Slowly, Gerlt lifts his head, licking up the length of Jaskier's cock and looking at the opening beneath his fingers.

"Can I?" he asks and Jaskier nods.

This is... new. He knows for women it can be pleasurable to be touched this way, but he's never had anyone do it to him. As a child, they told stories about men who fucked each other like this, the way they fuck women, but Jaskier had been young and naive and passed them off as nothing but stories. He'd never found anyone who wanted to touch him that way and had assumed, like most things children talk about, it was a rumour.

But Geralt's fingers tease the opening and sparks rush over his skin. Jaskier's cock throbs and he pushes himself up to watch. Geralt catches his eyes for a brief moment, before dropping back to his work and pushing inside.

"Oh," he breathes, "you're wet." Jaskier squirms, as his body gives way to Geralt's finger, quickly joined by a second.

As with everything, he moves slowly at first, pushing deep and rubbing into him. It feels good, much better than Jaskier could have expected and then Geralt bumps against something inside him and Jaskier cries out, digging his claws into Geralt's shoulder.

When he realizes what he's done, he releases him quickly, but Geralt seems unfazed and he's smiling when he meets Jaskier's eyes again.

"You like that?" he asks and Jaskier lets out a breathy, yes. Geralt grins at him and ducks down to wrap his lips around the tip of Jaskier's cock.

Geralt's fingers work in time with his mouth, picking up speed as Jaskier's groans become more frequent, less controlled. It doesn't take him long like this, with his cock slipping down Geralt's throat and Geralt's fingers constantly pressing against whatever that is inside him that feels so fucking good.

He comes with a gasp as Geralt thrusts up into him again and Geralt makes no attempt to keep him from pushing his cock deeper into his throat. If anything, he seems glad for it, and when Jaskier slumps back against the ground again, Geralt pulls off his cock with slow precision, careful to wrap his lips tightly around the head. Jaskier's eyes drop shut and his chest heaves, but he's aware of Geraly lying back down next to him.

"That felt... good."

"No one has ever touched you like this?" Geralt asks lightly. Jaskier waves a clawed hand at him in response. "Mmm, understandable. But you liked it?" Jaskier huffs a tired laugh and turns to face him.

"Very much."

"Can I?" Geralt asks, already sliding slick fingers along his waist.

"Please."

Geralt rises to his knees, straddling Jaskier's hips for a moment before dropping to the ground on the other side of him. He presses right up against him, slipping an arm under his neck and holding him close as his other hand presses flat against Jaskier's stomach, sliding downward. He crooks two fingers, pushing inside him and seeking out that same spot again.

He finds it with ease and when Jaskier jerks hard, Geralt pulls him in against his chest. He drops his forehead to Jaskier's, breathing hard against him and Jaskier shuts his eyes, letting the pleasure wash over him. Geralt thrusts into him, quick and precise, then slows to tease at the opening, fingers slipping slowly in and out, and Jaskier can't decide which he likes more.

When he's quick, it punches the breath out of him, leaves him mindless and aching for more, but then he slows, gently caresses and rubs into him and it's like a slow fire burning within him, gradually burning brighter. His mind goes blank, foggy with lust, and he wraps himself around Geralt's shoulders, drawing him close. Even with Jaskier wrapped around him, he never falters and before long Jaskier is writhing again, his tail slapping hard against the floor as pleasure courses through him.

He's overwhelmed, so entirely encompassed by pleasure that he can't do more than cling to Geralt and whimper until, at last, he comes, his cock untouched where it spurts over his hip.

Slick drips from his slit, mixing with his come and Geralt pulls out slowly, swiping his fingers through it and sliding them around Jaskier's cock. He cries out at the first touch, oversensitive from multiple consecutive orgasms, but it still feels good underneath the sensitivity and he can't bring himself to tell Geralt to stop.

When Geralt finally lets him go, Jaskier flops onto his back and stares up at him. Geralt is watching him, his eyes dark but bright, and he smiles. Unthinking, Jaskier reaches up, wrapping one hand around Geralt's cheek and tugging him down toward him. At the last second, he realizes what he's doing and hesitates, but Geralt closes the distance, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss.

It doesn't last long and Jaskier has to keep himself from nipping at his lips when they part. Geralt presses up close and for the first time, he feels the hard line of Geralt's cock beneath his trousers and it makes his breath catch. For a moment, he just stares at him, enthralled by the idea that Geralt is turned on by this.

"You're... aroused?" he asks and Geralt huffs a soft laugh.

"I'm fine."

"Could I touch you?"

"Mmm, if you like."

Jaskier grins, shifting onto his side and pushes Geralt over. He laughs and goes easily, watching as Jaskier spreads a hand over his chest. He maps out the planes of his chest, pushing clawed fingers through soft chest hair before dragging them lightly down toward the hem of his trousers.

He rakes his eyes over the jut of Geralt's cock, but doesn't touch, afraid of pushing too far. A favour, he reminds himself, Geralt is doing him a favour here. So he slips his hand back up to his stomach, mimicking the way Geralt touched him at first, exploring the little dips and rises in his skin, careful not to catch his claws.

And when he looks up to him again, Geralt is watching him. Something in the way he looks at him makes Jaskier's chest tight and he dips down again, catching Geralt's lips in a kiss. Geralt kisses back with enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around so he can pull Jaskier on top of him.

Both hands move down, cupping the swell of Jaskier's tail and rocking him slowly forward. Jaskier's cock, still sensitive, presses against Geralt's through the rough fabric of his trousers. He hisses at the drag, but Geralt moans at the friction and the sound goes straight through him. This time, Jaskier does it on purpose.

They find an easy rhythm between the two of them and even with Geralt's trousers in the way, the sensitivity soon gives way to pleasure and Jaskier ruts against him, kissing him hard despite the lingering fear that he'll bite too hard. Geralt however, seems unconcerned. He's got one hand buried in Jaskier's hair, the other pressing between them, fumbling with the buttons on his trousers. It takes him a moment, but he gets them undone, finally pulling his cock free and Jaskier groans as he ruts against him.

Geralt is hot, his cock even more so, and Jaskier basks in the warmth, pressing himself closer, even with Geralt’s hand still between them. He's sure he could come just like this, happy to rut against him, but then Geralt's fingers are pressing against his slit again. His fingers come away slick and he winds his hand around Jaskier's cock, stroking him slowly.

"What do you need?" he asks and Jaskier whimpers.

"What you did before," he breathes, "could you... do that again?" In an instant, Geralt flips him onto his back again, dragging his fingers up to his slit, but Jaskier stops him. "Could you... with your cock?"

"Oh. Fuck, yeah."

Geralt shifts, pushing his trousers down and kicking them off before pressing up close again. He pulls Jaskier into a deep kiss, his hand sliding away to bring his hips closer. He ruts against him, pushing through the slick and come and when he catches on Jaskier's slit, Jaskier lets out a little gasp and grasps at Geralt's shoulders.

Geralt pushes forward pressing into him and Jaskier holds his breath as he stretches open on his cock. Geralt's eyelids flutter as he settles and then he rocks forward, slowly at first, just short little thrusts that leave Jaskier aching, pushing himself onto him, wanting more.

And Geralt gives it to him. He sinks deep, hooking a knee over Jaskier's hip to hold him close as he ruts, his cock pressed firmly against that spot that makes him wild. Jaskier bucks and whines, his own cock slipping against Geralt's with every thrust. He delights in the feeling of Gerslt inside him, of his warmth and the stretch of his cock, sliding into him and filling him wholly.

He's surprised to find Geralt as breathless as he is when he looks up at him and he can't help but tip forward and nip at his lower lip. Geralt groans and kisses him hard. He pushes him onto his back so he's straddling his hips and when he sits back, Jaskier's cock presses between his cheeks.

He rocks his hips, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat around his cock and Geralt shudders as he pushes back against him. His eyes flick up to Jaskier's and he licks his lips.

"Can I try something?" he asks and Jask nods enthusiastically.

Geralt withdraws immediately, pressing his fingers into Jaskier's slit. When he withdraws, he reaches behind himself, and Jaskier burns to know what he's doing, but the slick fingers wrap around his cock, and Geralt sits back on him. Jaskier groans low as Geralt's body engulfs him, heat seeping into every inch where they touch and he reaches out, fingers digging into his thighs, so careful not to leave scratches.

Geralt rocks back onto him, taking the full length of Jaskier's cock and grinding back against him. He rolls his hips and squeezes around him, pulling right up to the tip before dropping back down the length on him. Jaskier is breathless, helpless to do anything but squeeze Geralt's thighs and bite his own lip.

Tentatively, he wraps one hand around Geralt's cock, slipping webbed fingers over the head of his cock. Geralt moans softly, sliding one hand over Jaskier's and guiding it down. Jaskier nearly stops breathing as the head of Geralt's cock nudges against his slit and then he's sliding in again, filling him up even as he squeezes around Jaskier's cock.

It's so much. Jaskier's body sings with the twin pleasures of being filled so wholly and sinking into Geralt himself as he shifts his hips up.

"Fuck" he groans and Geralt drapes himself over his chest, kissing the moan from his lips.

He finds a rhythm, a careful balance that keeps them joined in both places and Jaskier has never felt such overwhelming pleasure in his life. He meets Geralt's thrusts, thrusting in deep as Geralt sinks into him and it's hardly surprising when he finds himself creeping close to the edge. Geralt's thighs shake around him and he wants to hold out, to make Geralt comes first, but Geralt reaches up, nipping at the sensitive skin over his throat and the pleasure that zips through him is too much.

His hips snap up hard and Geralt kisses him through it, deep and hard, his whole body arching against him. He follows shortly, burying himself deep in Jaskier's body and rutting into him urgently. The moans and pleas that drop from his lips do nothing to ease Jaskier's persistent erection, but as Geralt slumps against him, Jaskier feels the exhaustion creeping in.

Geralt, too, seems tired and Jaskier withdraws reluctantly, mourning the loss of Geralt's body around him. His cock remains stubbornly hard, still unsheathed, but the aching desperation wore off some time ago and he flings himself into the water, quickly rubbing himself down to prevent waking up sticky and uncomfortable. A moment later there's a splash as Geralt rolls off the ledge next to him.

He swims closer enough for Jaskier to reach him and he makes a point of wiping Geralt down first before wrapping a hand around his cock and sliding slowly. Geralt's eyes drop shut and he winds his arms around Jaskier's neck with a soft, shuddering moan.

"How long does this usually last?" he asks and Jaskier shrugs.

"Anywhere from a week to six."

Geralt gawks at him. "Six weeks?"

"On and off," Jaskier huffs, amused. "I don't swim around with an exposed prick for six weeks. And besides. It's usually two, though it is much more in much more... concentrated bursts."

"Meaning I should stick around?"

Jaskier's heart thuds heavily at the suggestion which is, realistically, ridiculous. He's known Geralt for all of a few hours and under normal circumstances, the man would have just killed him. But the idea of keeping him close spreads warmth through his chest.

"You don't have to," he says anyway. "You kept up your end of the deal. I'll be quiet."

"Mmm," Geralt agrees, nosing at his neck, "but it'll get bad again. What would you do with no one here to get you through it."

"Are you..." Jaskier starts, hesitant. "Are you saying you want to stay?"

"Maybe not exactly here," Geralt shrugs, "I'd appreciate being warm and dry part of the time. But I don't intend to go far. Maybe I'll camp out on the beach."

"Will you stay for now?" Jaskier asks hopefully.

"Yes."

Jaskier doesn’t acknowledge the way his heart clenches a little. He shouldn’t want Geralt to stay, shouldn’t care what he does with himself now that he’s fulfilled his end of the bargain, but as they finish cleaning up, he seems happy to be there.

Once they're both clean and Geralt has managed to pull another orgasm from him, they settle on the ground, Jaskier curled up around him. His cock rests perfectly against the cleft of Geralt's ass and he has to be careful not to move too much, lest he work himself up again. He spreads one wing out over Geralt, using it as well as he can to keep him warm.

“You should go back,” Geralt says quietly and if Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d say he sounded almost disappointed, “leave here and find more of your kind so you don’t have to suffer alone next time.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Jaskier admits, “but I like it here.”

“Mm,” Geralt hums sleepily, “guess I’ll just have to come back then, hm?”

Five years later…

The need returns, just as it always does, creeping up slowly and then hitting him all at once, but this time it's worse. This time he has the memory of his Witcher, soft and sweet touching him and kissing him and working him through it. And the memory only serves to make the need stronger.

But he made a promise.

So Jaskier holes himself up in his cave and deals with it as well as he can on his own and when that quits working on the first day, Jaskier swims to the surface in the hopes of coming across some other passer-by who might be willing to risk their life to fuck a Siren.

But when he breaches the surface of the water, there's a figure on the beach, moving oddly. He keeps low in the water, just his head breaking the surface and when he gets closer he realizes it's a man taking off his boots. It takes a couple of seconds to register as the man strips completely naked, but as he gets closer, as Jaskier swims further, he recognizes him. There's a swell of something warm and pleasant that settles in his chest and his heart beats just a fraction too quickly.

Geralt came back for him.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

YO SEBAS’ ROUTE HAS BEEN ANNOUNCED FOR JP I CANT WAIT!!! Do you have any theories of what could happen in his route?!?

Haha, yes, I saw this morning! For those who haven’t yet seen the announcement, it has been said that Sebastian’s route will be coming to the JPN version of Ikevamp on August 25th! It’s very exciting news, and I can’t wait to get started translating after I finish Dazai’s.

Honestly I’m finding this so many degrees of hilarious because I was like “oh ya I’m curious” at first, but after seeing that character introduction video with the lil forehead kiss and the horny as all HELL biting, I’m SLAMMING the horny button holy shit??? (I have that card CG in the JPN ver of the game on my phone and. lord jesus. That scowl. WILL HE STEP ON ME ONEGAI AKIHIKO)

Putting the rest under a cut bc is long and has some JPN ver spoilers:

That being said, let’s address the second part of the ask, shall we? Theories! If I’m honest I’m not surprised Sebastian was next on the docket, but I do admit I’m thoroughly surprised by the CG of him biting MC in earnest--he visibly draws blood on her neck and shoulder. This raises so many questions that are likely to be reiterated endlessly until his rt comes out in full, the most pressing of which is: does Sebastian turn into a vampire? Or is he just really into sadistic foreplay?

If I’m honest I sincerely don’t know if he’s fully turned, only because I’m trying to sort out the information we do have. Why turn into a vampire if the goal is to be with MC, who is also human? If we follow this course of thought, it doesn’t seem to make much sense, does it?

But then our boi Sebas is different in terms of his internalized conflict when compared to the vampires. Granted I may turn out to be wrong about this, but I think the two focal points of his route will be as follows: insecurity and the pursuit of knowledge. Remember that the reason Sebastian (our dearest Akihiko Sato) agrees to Comte’s proposal at all is his insatiable curiosity. I mean just think about it. If Comte told all that stuff about the mansion to someone in modern times, they would probably just figure he was a crazy person and go on with their day. But Sebas, the absolute madlad, agreed; he wanted to see if it was true, and to learn everything he could about people who exhibit extraordinary talent. 

I foresee that this, however, may become a double-edged sword. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say. What I mean to say is that it could be very possible he might turn or undergo something similar to the changing process in order to experience what it’s like firsthand (whether to prove he can handle it or because he wants to understand the residents better/gather info). Furthermore, while Sebastian is curious--with no malicious intent at all--this doesn’t mean that envy is impossible in this kind of scenario, either. Admiration and envy are like two sides of a coin; depending on how one interprets information, they can skew to self-consciousness or inspiration. Given the content I’ve seen for Sebastian so far (and man has it been limited as all heck) I often get the implication that he truly does feel inadequate in some ways compared to the other men. As soon as MC chooses him a kind of overwhelming awareness of his normalcy begins; the implication that he is the wrong or lesser choice. Knowing this, I truly wouldn’t be surprised if problems arise as a result of this self-effacing.

(Note: I don’t think that about Sebastian at all, personally! I think he’s very mindful of others and really astute--to say nothing of his skill when it comes to the domestic sphere. I don’t think just anybody could do what he does, and he sells himself far too short. I always think of how the men call him the Ninja Butler and praise how capable he is, how they freely admit the place wouldn’t be the same without him. Sometimes I wish Sebas could see that, though I understand his concerns as well ;-; I’m always torn bc I’ll be like “I understand but alSO N O”)

Besides those latent insecurities, time to expand more on the pursuit of knowledge. In one way this drive might feed his self-derision; he might believe that the more he is able to do and understand and study, the more he can be of use/help other people. (Put simply his value as a person = the increasing extent of his knowledge in an almost linear relationship; without it he is nothing). On the other hand, I think he just genuinely enjoys collecting information the way he does! He likes assessing all the different ways people behave and why, and how this contributes to how they think and who they are. More insight offers him more ways to preoccupy his endlessly moving mind, but it also offers proximity with the subject in question. This to me is absolutely key--I think so much of his studying the great men is linked to his admiration, his wish to be like them and/or his wish to be close to them.

I’d like to address a quick reference to the drinking event that recently released in the ENG version of the app, if only to expand on/clarify where this is coming from. It essentially featured Sebastian and Napoleon sharing a drink together at a bar and in it, Sebastian speaks to the way that he encountered Napoleon in his life, and the reason why he grew so fond of him. He speaks to a childhood entirely detached from the people of his own time, roving through the shelves of libraries, reading endlessly to fill that void. It was a quote by Napoleon that caught his eye and inspired him, and ostensibly the words of people long past that gave him the strength to keep moving forward. This information, coupled with his strange excitement in Isaac’s rt introduction about how Isaac used to throw hands with people who mocked him seems to bring to the forefront a few things for me. 

Sebastian is highly, highly individualistic: he doesn’t seem to care much about what is conventional or normal, only in what brings him joy and makes others comfortable/happy. His life is highly internal, but I sense no anti-sociality in this removal from societal expectations. He just lives his own way and tries not to trouble anyone. (This is also highly notable in his acute impatience with Dazai’s shenanigans/ineptitudes now and again; while he doesn’t always scold or explode, he shows a sharp and surprising impatience with willful/harmful/irresponsible behavior.) He’s tactful and measured, but highly excitable under the right circumstances. He also doesn’t seem to think much of his own life re: self-derision. Think Leonardo’s rt ending: he insists that the serial killer focus on him and not on MC, he tells her he has no qualms with dying if it means she’ll make it out alive. MC has to be the one to tell him to think more of his own life. As such I wouldn’t put it past him to have enough nerdy reckless energy to test the waters of being a vampire (all the better if it helps him understand the great men).

Comte once said it in an event story a few months ago, but I think he really hit the nail on the head in some respects. He says something to the effect of “His curiosity is admirable, but please Sebastian--some things are to remain private.” Sebastian doesn’t intend to be intrusive or malicious, he just likes knowing things for the sake of knowing. It’s about the cones answering his nerdy desire to piece things together, not stepping on people’s toes. (It’s nice too because Comte seems to understand this and doesn’t see it as a shortcoming/nuisance, he just tries to nudge Sebas in a different direction if he starts prying too close to people’s personal business ;-; pls pardon the Comte love I just can’t help myself)

Enter Johann Georg Faust.

Now then we know very little about the reserved priest doctor, but there are tidbits of information that we can work with (or at the very least, stand out to me a lot). The one I would like to focus on for this explanation is the little blurb that appears when you open the Ikevamp app and it’s loading, providing something like trivia facts for each character. In the ENG app we got those early, but we don’t have the ones for our antagonists. Iirc, Faust’s reads something to the effect of “will often sneak substances into their (as in the castle residents Vlad and Charles’) food to test the effect of his concoctions on vampires.” There have been hints that Faust is to be our mad scientist of sorts; that he is experimenting under Vlad’s orders to find a reliable way to transform a human being into an immortal equivalent to that of a pureblood. But I have mentioned on more than one occasion that I really don’t think Faust is only doing all of this for Vlad. He has his own curiosity that is seeking to be alleviated, perhaps he is satisfied with having another puzzle dumped in his lap--a means to distract himself and exhaust his faculties. 

(One has to wonder if Vlad turned them under the same principle of desperation, and if that were the case, what Faust and Charles might desire more than anything else...Is Faust operating on a kind of necessity to atone? Has he simply given up hope that scientific advancement can happen without someone getting hurt, and so he does his best to balance the good and bad wrought by his explorations? Is he trying to bring someone back himself, is he trying to stall Vlad’s efforts in his own way? I really can’t be sure; there are just too many unanswered questions when it comes to Faust...)

This is where Sebastian and Faust begin to overlap. The pursuit of knowledge, an insatiable curiosity, a capacity to overreach the bounds of appropriate civility/decorum to get the information they want. It could potentially serve as a temptation for Sebas; become a vampire by Vlad’s hand and you can watch history over the span of generations. Assist in the development of an immortal, and you won’t even need someone like Comte to walk you through the different eras of time--you could explore yourself. While Sebas seems to be motivated more by service to other people, there can be no doubt that this could cause a great deal of friction. He will have to work to remind himself why he’s doing what he does and what it means to him, and whether or not becoming a vampire is truly what he wants.

But, there is also the issue of Vlad’s telepathic manipulations. Is it possible that an encounter with Faust (and by extension, proximity to Vlad/meeting Vlad head-on) could result in Sebastian being turned/experimented on without his knowledge? I.e. Vlad using his compulsion and sending him home with a word or memory of what happened. Though that’s certainly not the only possible explanation available. The other thing I was thinking about was a mechanic that was introduced in event stories prior to Sebas’ MS announcement. In the event story, MC and her suitor of choice encounter a street merchant that boasts a serum that can turn people into vampires. They, of course, don’t believe him--but the vial is procured and MC either purposefully or accidentally is exposed to it (i.e she knocks it over and it shatters in Leo’s ES). For a brief time, she exhibits vampiric qualities; she feels the thirst for blood as acutely as any of the other vampires in the mansion. I.e. In Napoleon’s ES, Sebas notices something wrong with MC when they’re just pouring vials of Rouge--the usual prepwork--and she runs out of the room looking dazed. Her odd/new instincts are only alleviated when she bites and drinks Napoleon’s blood, but after that single episode she shows no further signs of vampiric qualities. It’s a temporary but acute transformation. While I have no specifics as to how this is possible, I have to wonder if something similar might be done to Sebastian; whether as a means to test him (does he really want this? find out after the commercial break) or a kind of trick/trap laid by the antagonists. I remain unsure, but these are the two most likely explanations that come to mind if he hasn’t been fully turned.

As to whether or not his vampirism will be permanent, I’ve genuinely been oscillating on that one. I think it’s certainly possible given his intrigue (I never see much fear in him) with vampirism and his probable enjoyment with the prospect of an endless life learning about things (I can literally hear Leonardo screaming internally and I’m ngl it’s sad and funny). But there’s also something about the bite CG that speaks to strain/alarm, to surprise--that he wasn’t at all aware of the changes within himself--and I have to wonder if it might put him off of the prospect (like that he lost control/hurt MC)...Essentially I think it will just really boil down to how the symptoms come about (temporary or permanent), and how much his affections for MC might deter that curiosity/possible wish (if temporary, he might not touch the prospect again--if permanent, THAT WOULD BE SO FUCKING SEXY BECAUSE I’d wager the rest of the route might be MC trying to help him adjust/recover IN A SEXY WAY).

(Note post-translation: I fucking HATE IT HERE. The bite CG text says smth to the effect of “The bloodlust is unbearable--stay away from me; I don’t think I’ll be able to keep from attacking you.”) In light of this information, I am this 👌 close to launching myself straight into the sun. OFC his route is gonna be sweet as all shit and then it’s just gonna go downhill from there with angst. WHYYYYYYYYYY AKIHIKO (at least his voice is mega sexy and heals my wounds OTL) It also says something about “a fate that is greatly moved” so that does suggest a more permanent change than the temporary alternatives I mentioned (though we all know how Cybird loves to jerk us around so I’m leaving that up for debate)...this shit better be hurt/comfort or i s2g im throwing hands

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THE ANTICIPATION IS KILLING ME!!!!!!!

Here’s hoping he’ll make for a delightful surprise! I’m looking forward to it c: 

[doctors-star]

13 and/or 17 (... cowboys 🥺 pretty pls?) (but totally fine if u wanna do smthin else)

prompt list

cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

cruore - it literally means “flowing blood”

It’s a warm day out, dusty and dry under an impossibly large, impossibly blue sky. Now that it’s early afternoon and the worst of the midday heat has burned off and dissipated, the town is bustling out again into the streets, in and out of shops and ducking around riders and carriages. It sure isn’t the ideal time to unleash a room’s worth of unruly children who’ve all been cooped up since lunchtime upon the town in the vague hope they’ll make it home in one piece, but in all honesty there’s no good time to do that and they’ve got to go eventually.

Ainsel will get ‘em reading and writing, but they sure as hell ain’t some kind of charitable institution for bored youths.

Opening the door on such brightness and warmth requires serious blinking and squinting and no small amount of internal sorrow as the wall of heat hits Ainsel square in the chest and invades their cool, shaded front room. Not for the first time, they consider the merits of simply opening one of the rear windows and posting the children out of it one by one; not for the first time, the idea is dismissed. The kids would enjoy it entirely too much. Said children are presently scrambling up off the floor and making a break for the door, slates and tin lunch pans hastily shoved into small satchels, baskets, or simply jammed under one arm, and Ainsel steps neatly to one side to allow them free access to the door. For all that the kids bullied Ainsel into teaching them, they sure are always glad to get out at the end of the day.

“See you on Monday, then,” Ainsel says easily. The elder Diaz boy and Mary Wilder both twist to wave at them over their shoulders, but then they’re back to corralling their littler siblings and trying to get them to hold hands nicely for the walk out of town and up to their family ranches. The other kids pay him no mind at all - just tumble out into the street and turn their faces to the sun like little sunflowers. Little Jesse Rainey turns a little circle in the dust, swirling her skirts carefully so as to show off the new printed calico to best effect; she’s a little too used to being the saloon’s darling, if you ask Ainsel, all dressed up in pink with blonde hot-ironed ringlets, but she’s also one of the brightest kids in the class at only six years old. Ainsel reckons she could be the next schoolteacher in ten years or so, if an established schoolmaster could be prevailed upon to examine her and find Ainsel’s informal schooling up to scratch.

Two of the boys have immediately begun a small scuffle, the way young boys are apparently wont to do; Ainsel sighs, and steps forward to separate them (curse all, if one of them isn’t a loose Wilder at that) - but is beaten to the punch. There’s a sharp whistle and the clink of spurs as boots go from horseback to street, and to Ainsel’s great surprise Max Wilder jumps back and sticks his hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky as his bare feet scuff at the dirty street. Were it not patently absurd, given the quantity of eye witnesses, Ainsel would say the boy was attempting to look entirely uninvolved.

Ainsel, amused, turns to raise an eyebrow at the newcomer. Will Williams catches their eye for a fraction of a second - enough for Will to roll his eyes, barely, in commiseration - and then he turns his unimpressed gaze upon the Wilder boy.

Max feigns surprise and delight well, for a nine-year-old of no particular theatrical bent; he beams at Williams with his hands tucked neatly behind his back. “Hiya, Doc,” he says through a gap-toothed smile. “How d’ya do.”

“All the better,” Will says, all dry and proper, “for knowing that you are safe at home after school and not fighting with the other boys, just like you promised me you would be. After all, we agreed on good behaviour if you were to come out to Plum Creek with me tomorrow. Didn’t we?”

Ainsel presses the knuckles of their fist to their mouth to ward off a smile as Max darts apologetically forward, spouting apologies and promises of better behaviour for ever and ever if only the Doc - that is, Mr Williams - wouldn’t tell his pa and would still take him out to the river to look for tracks. It’s more grovelling than Ainsel’s ever managed to extract from a pupil for bad behaviour, but then, Ainsel only ever promises letters and numbers, and Max seems under the impression that Williams is going to provide frogs and snakes and half a dozen other natural wonders, so.

Will scratches the back of his neck. “Well, alright,” he relents. “I - I am going to tell your pa, mind, but if he doesn’t say otherwise I don’t see why you shouldn’t come.” Max does a little victory dance and then returns to his classmates, bragging all the while about the things he’ll see out by the creek. Will himself tips his hat politely at Ainsel. “Afternoon.”

Ainsel is aware that they make Will Williams nervous. Many things do, but Ainsel reckons they do a better job of it than most folks; this is somewhat ironic, in many ways, as a fair few things make Ainsel anxious too. If they could get the measure of each other, Ainsel thinks they oughta be friends - they’d like a person to commiserate with about being thrust into a job they ain’t really qualified for, and not-a-doctor Will Williams seems like a good choice - but Williams keeps careful distance from Ainsel, even in broad daylight in a street full of children, and Ainsel ain’t hopeful. They offer a smile anyhow. “Afternoon, Williams. What can I do you for?”

Will nods gently at Miss Rainey, his own face turning gentle. “This one’s wanted at home,” he says with a smile and Jesse blushes and beams, pleased with the attention. “She’s to pick out a new ribbon at the store if she can keep tally of how much we spend and write it up neatly in the saloon books. How’s that, Miss Rainey?”

Jesse puffs up her chest with pride. “I shall have a blue ribbon like Mary Wilder’s,” she says with certainty.

Will offers Ainsel a flicker of a grin. “Jayne Rainey figures your schooling ought to be good for something,” he says, and if anyone else in the town had said it Ainsel would have winced - but Will’s got more books than clothes, same as Ainsel, so they offer a quick grin back. If only Ainsel could remember what they were doing before they woke up in Danser some years back: that way, they could say for sure if they went to college like Will, and Ainsel might feel a little less like, maybe, the local nice, nervous naturalist oughta be taking classes instead of the local amnesiac with a scary-clever horse and the books which they may or may not be qualified to own and read. Knowing that kind of thing, actually, might go a long way towards some kind of friendship with Will Williams, too.

“I figure so too,” Ainsel agrees, instead of voicing that, or anything like it. They beat down the impulse to seek answers, confess worries, force a confidence - to say hey, Williams - you wanna take a look at Edelweiss? Nah, nothing’s wrong; only, sometimes I don’t reckon she’s really a horse. You know anything about that? Only Will wouldn’t. Ainsel knows as much as they reckon they’re gonna, honestly - there was a trade, and for whatever they gave up they got Edelweiss in exchange. And maybe something else, too, but they’ll be damned if they know what.

Ainsel tries very hard to unthink that particular thought.

“Ainsel says I could keep a school,” Jesse is telling Will with pride.

“I’m sure you could,” Will replies with a little smile. Ainsel hadn’t figured Will as one for children, but then Jesse Rainey and Max Wilder are small forces of nature; if they take a liking to a person, it’s hard not to be endeared. And Jesse is the saloon proprietor’s daughter, and Will rents a room in the saloon, and Jesse is the saloon’s darling. Will shoots a glance at Ainsel. “You’re - you’re training up a replacement already?”

Ainsel inclines their head at Max Wilder, who is crouching in the dust with a stick and drawing around the hooves of Will’s square, broad-chested stock horse. Ainsel remembers Will defending his choice to Finn - Will’s horse looks more like a small draught horse than a good or fast rider, but she’s quiet and she stays still while he’s out watching animals - and indeed, though the horse is gently nosing at the boy, her hooves are staying obediently planted as he natters away at her about prints. “Should say you were, too.”

Will huffs gently at Max, who entirely fails to notice. “It was an accident. Alright, let’s get going before your parents come after me wondering where you kids are. Max, are - are you going to walk us home?”

Max bounces up, catching up the horse’s reins and bringing her over with the practised ease of anyone born and raised on the Wilder ranch. “Sure! Can I ride?”

Will carefully lifts Jesse up into the saddle. “Ladies have to ride, Max,” he corrects. “When I was little, my brother always-”

And though Will stutters into silence, Ainsel - sort of hears the rest of the story anyway. Their cards have made their way into Ainsel’s hands without them noticing and the odd paintings are switching and shifting before their eyes as they shuffle idly, and then stop. The card is of what might be a tower, and what might be a cart, and what is almost certainly a lady; the colours twist the eye and every line slides into the next until what had started as one thing is something else entirely by the end.

If you were going to play poker with these cards, you’d probably call this one the Queen of Spades.

Do not play poker with these cards.

But Ainsel looks at the cards, and the strange, illusory lines that leave only impressions, and sees with odd and abrupt clarity a young man with Will’s face but without his glasses and with a shadow of unruly stubble. He is perhaps broader than Will, too, but the resemblance is clear. And in the card, the young man grins and sweeps a small child up into a massive bear hug. He kisses the child’s hair - once plaited, Ainsel thinks, but now entirely loose and wild after a day of playing - and places them with great care and reverence on the back of a tall, thin black horse. The child, the little girl, giggles as the boy kisses her hand, says she is a princess, and runs an affectionate hand through her loose, dark hair to tidy it away before placing his hat on her head. The girl’s hands push the brim up out of her eyes - eyes which are doubtless, doubtless, Will Williams’ eyes - and Ainsel closes their own eyes, and wishes they had done so sooner.

When he opens them again, it’s just the Queen of Spades once more. Like nothing ever happened.

“Well, I, I guess you can ride behind and keep Miss Rainey steady,” Will is saying when Ainsel folds his fingers over the painted cards and looks up once more. He doesn’t seem quite so steady as he did before as he hoists Max up onto the horse’s back.

There’s no way to tell him what Ainsel knows. They wouldn’t, anyhow - Will never said, and wouldn’t thank them for disrupting the life Williams has carefully built for himself. But Ainsel would like, somehow, to communicate that Will’s big brother had seemed nice; that Will, as a kid, had seemed happy with him; that Will didn’t have to give up on his childhood and on the nice boy who had run his fingers so gently and fondly through his kid sibling’s hair, just because he’d changed over the years.

Ainsel kinda misses the memory of their own childhood, sometimes. Maybe someone had once been so affectionate with them, too.

Will catches Ainsel staring and tilts his head in query. Ainsel shakes themself and offers a small smile. “Y’all ride safe, now,” they say. “Oh, and Max Wilder - you tell your ma you’ll need shoes for the walk before the next week is out, ‘cause it’ll be getting colder and you can’t have Will Williams carting you home every day.”

“Sure will,” Max calls back, grinning and swinging his bare feet from high up on the horse’s broad, grey-dappled rear. “Bye, Ainsel!”

“Goodbye!” Jesse says, holding firm to the pommel as she shifts to look back. “I’ll show you my ribbon on Monday.”

Will just inclines his head and takes the reins in one hand.

Ainsel fidgets the cards in one hand. “Be seeing you, Williams,” they say carefully. As the party moves away, heading for the general store, the Wilder ranch, and home, Ainsel flips the top card over and over in their fingers, and hopes against hope that they wouldn’t be seeing Will Williams at all.

--

There are days, Ainsel knows, that they don’t sit fully right with Finn Holden. It’s a different kind of discomfort to wrong-footed Will Williams, but it’s there nonetheless - sometimes they catch Finn trying to look at them without looking at all, out of the corner of his eye or in a mirror or in the eyes of someone else who is looking at Ainsel, and they know that he knows that they know.

Like now: hunched over a little table in the saloon littered with glasses and an incomplete set of dominoes, just the two of them, and Finn’s looking over Ainsel’s shoulder. Ostensibly, eyeing up the liquor behind the bar; in reality, examining the back of Ainsel’s head in the smokey mirror behind the glasses. Ainsel prods the double six morosely and tries not to let it bother them. It does seem unfair, really, that Finn doesn’t bother people the way Ainsel does. That Ainsel bothers Finn, but not vise versa.

They think maybe choice comes into it. But Ainsel doesn’t even know if they made a choice, way back whenever they did whatever it was to land them in Danser Town with a horse and cards and no recollection at all of how this came to be. They might have been totally helpless to their fate, same as Finn had said he was, when Ainsel had cornered him after two weeks and demanded to know what, exactly, the fuck had happened to Finn to make him smell permanently of clay and sawn pine planks and blood.

(If Ainsel is honest with themself, they suspect that they did have a choice. They suspect they made a deal. The knowledge that their fate has been entirely self-wrought is not helpful.)

“Hey,” Finn says, looking at the table rather than Ainsel and tacking a domino on the end of the six. Is that better? Ainsel isn’t sure. “You been...well, lately?”

Ainsel regrets that Finn has cause to have concern for him. Unfortunately, there are only so many times a person can be seen screaming blue bloody murder at a horse for being a demon in passive, judgemental mostly-horse form before people start taking that person aside and asking about how things are going at home, and that number of times is one. “Grand,” Ainsel says levelly. They’re not wholly lying, either; they haven’t found themself lost and memory-less in a forest for nearly three weeks, Edelweiss hasn’t tried to bite them for their many and varied sins today, and Johnny McPherson had offered them a friendly holler across the street that had actually done disproportionate wonders for Ainsel’s mood. But, also, Finn isn’t looking at them straight. He’s looking the way that Will says you oughta, when you’re a little too close to some creature that can kill ya but hasn’t tried yet; with the kind of caution which is always recommended in old wives’ tales about ghosts and devils and the fae.

Finn nods. “Glad.” Then, abruptly, as if bored of being careful (not unlikely) Finn slumps back in his chair and eyeballs Ainsel straight on. It’s - oddly comforting, actually. “I’m sick of dominoes. We don’t even have half the damn pieces.”

They have all bar two. Ainsel sweeps the tiles together into a pile and starts dividing them into two sets of seven and a discard pile, pushing them across the sticky table with long, pale fingertips. “You want to play that Matador game Johnny was trying to teach us?”

Finn huffs. “Tryin’ is the word. If you can remember the rules, then I’m Saint Bridget. I sure as hell can’t.”

Ainsel tips their head, conceding the point. Something about sevens, and it being annoying that their set lacked the five-two; Ainsel had been a bit drunk at the time. “Well? We’ve got to play something. I ain’t gonna just sit here and talk to ya, no-one’s got that patience.”

Finn laughs, loud and inelegant, and Ainsel grins. “Aw, you ass,” he says cheerfully, spinning his glass on the table with careful flicks. “Let’s play cards or something. I’m a demon at rummy.”

“The saloon hasn’t got any cards any more, remember?” Ainsel points out.

Finn frowns. “It don’t? Why not?”

“Jesse Rainey nicked ‘em and gave out the picture cards to the other kids as favours. And, also, as a kind of basic hierarchy system, far as I can figure it.”

“Aw, hell. Why does that kid get away with everything?”

“Y’all reckon she’s cute.”

Finn grins. “She is! It’s like being mad at the kid on the Pear’s soap ads, or a gopher.” Ainsel spreads their hands - well, there you go - and Finn laughs. “Alright. You got cards, though, right?”

Ainsel rides the sudden lurch of horror at the idea of anyone else even seeing the cards, let alone using them. But - they want Finn and Will and everyone else to see them as normal folk, they gotta Be Normal. Have a normal horse, and a normal life, and normal playing cards. Any number of things can cause amnesia - hitting your head real hard because your horse, which maybe hates you, kicked you or bucked you or something. Trauma. Heatstroke. Normal shit, which ain’t magic no matter how much you side-eye it or examine it in mirrors. Finn might’ve just - imagined it, or had a vision like some religious folks do. Ainsel could have dreamed up any number of things and thought them real - what he’d seen of Will could be nothing. Probably says more about Ainsel than it does about Will anyhow.

Be Normal. Ainsel reckons they can do that. Most all other folks seem to.

Ainsel brings out their pack from the inner pocket of their duster, shakes out their wrists with a confident movement, and manages two whole shuffles before dropping most of the pack. The beautiful cards flutter and spin as if caught by some wild, summer wind and scatter over the table and floor in an unstoppable cascade. Finn tips his head back and laughs like a hyena.

“You’re the clumsiest fuckin’ card shark I ever seen,” he says delightedly.

“I am not a card shark,” Ainsel says rather absently as they scrabble to collect up the cards on the table.

Finn snorts. “I believe it! But what else you carryin’ all these damn cards all the damn day for, huh?” He gets off his chair and drops to the saloon floor, hunting down Ainsel’s precious cards before they get trampled or lost between the boards.

“I don’t know,” they bite back rather crossly; one of the cards, the Jack of Hearts, has just jumped away from Ainsel’s grasping fingers and they have to stand and lean over the table to snatch it up from Finn’s chair. Ainsel glances at it habitually as they sit back down and briefly forgets how to breathe.

The card, like every other, is not a standard face card. The young knave depicted always seems to form out of the swirling lines upside-down, no matter how Ainsel looks at the card, with an inverted heart on his chest like a drop of ruby-rich blood. And for a moment, whilst Ainsel watches, the Jack looks out at them with Finn’s eyes that are not Finn’s eyes. The heart pulses, once, and slides away and dissipates; the eyes go dark and glazed; and Ainsel is looking at a dead man in a churchyard. Some shadow oozes into the edges of the card and at the same pace blood leaks thick and dark from the man’s chest. There is no helping him; he is gone. Ainsel knows it. And then, he sits up. Abruptly, like he’s awakening from a nightmare. He inhales hugely, or tries to, as though he had been drowning, but chokes on his own blood. The man spends quite some time on all fours, coughing and retching and hacking up blood, but this slows and he sits back on his haunches to assess the pool of blood. He wipes at his chin with the back of his hand and grimaces - not with pain, more like disgust. And then he looks up - and this time, it is Finn with Finn’s eyes who is looking straight out of the card at Ainsel.

Ainsel’s fist closes around the card, barely managing to avoid crushing it. They look up in time for Finn’s head to appear in triumph over the edge of the table, clonking his temple gently against the underside as he does. Finn brandishes a handful of cards at Ainsel with a grin, and Ainsel sees him bleed out and wake up over and over in their mind.

They take the cards. Slide the pack back together. Tuck them deep down in an inner pocket.

Finn blinks at them for a moment. “So no cards today, then.”

“No,” Ainsel says shortly.

Finn nods solemnly. “You wanna talk about it?”

Absolutely fucking not. Ainsel slides the dominoes back across the table a little too violently, sending ivory tiles skittering against their empty glasses and shoves a couple Finn’s way. Finn, who is alive and well and not all that damn normal either, so damn it all; maybe no-one in this town is normal enough to start shit with Ainsel, and everyone ought to fuckin’ remember it. Ainsel fixes their gaze on the base of a glass, in whose curving reflection they can watch Finn without actually looking at him. “Come on, Saint Bridget,” they say roughly. “Double six starts.”

There is a short pause, and then Finn’s hand closes over the glass which Ainsel is using to look at Finn without looking at him, and they can’t see Finn’s reflection anymore. “Alright,” Finn says quietly. “Matador it is.”

[toorusquill]

i said i’d write kagevera hcs so here they are 😼 (sending this in again bc i have it somewhere in my notes n while i was going through it i spotted some mistakes so 😔) and this is the list from your post:

✓ your fellow slytherin friend had a mad crush on kuroo (but like who doesn’t tbh) so ofc they dragged u to watch the quidditch team practice solely for this babe when they figured out what time everything was scheduled

✓ and you had your eyes on a specific chaser 👀 (since i headcanon goshiki baby as the seeker) bc ngl he was pretty cute plus you see him around the common room a lot bc y’all are in the same house or just stuffing alarming amounts of food into his mouth @ breakfast

✓ the team was too focused on playing so none of them really noticed you were there for a while but when goshiki was flying around the field trying to catch the snitch again he stopped by when he recognized you two for obvious reasons

✓ he talked to the both of you about the game and just made small talk until kuroo called him out for getting off track, and thats when kags realized y'all were there

✓ he stared at u for a while even after goshiki left bc LETS BE HONEST YOU’RE STUNNING, and when you caught him, he just flashed u an awkward smile bc he didn’t know what else to do 😔🤚

✓ and lets say kags asked goshiki abt you after practice ended out of curiosity and goshiki went to tendou and teru bc he didn’t know much abt you other than your house and name AND WHEN I TELL U TERUSHIMA LITERALLY PULLED OUT A LIST OF ALL THE CLASSES YOU WERE IN AND WHAT TIME EVERYTHING STARTED I-

✓ daishou was just like what the fuck

✓ instead, daishou – the only one with a girl so he already knows LMAO – begrudgingly suggested that kags should ask u for help with his potions class if he wanted to get to know you better (ALL THE POTIONS HOMIE MADE EXPLODED AND SNAPE WENT APESHIT UHH) since he needed MAJOR help with that subject anyways so he did

✓ AHEM MATCHMAKER DAISHOU PLS THANK HIM

✓ and ngl kags n daishou were on good terms, daishou also wanted to piss off oikawa so like

✓ anyways you accepted bc you had extra time on your hands and didn’t mind BUT THE AMOUNT OF EFFORT YOU NEEDED TO PUT INTO TEACHING KAGS SHIT- ITS HARDER THAN IT LOOKS PLEASE YOU’RE ABOUT TO GROW GREY HAIRS

✓ you still continued to teach him though, starting to meet up with each other in the slytherin common room from time to time to review the textbooks so that’s how you and kags started talking

✓ kags starts waving at you when he sees you in the hallways n the corners of his mouth quirks up into a half-smile whenever you wave back :((

✓ anyways once y'all got closer through THE STRUGGLE OF HELPING KAGS WITH HIS CLASSES EVERY WEEKEND BC YOU WERE “HIS ONLY HOPE FOR PASSING,” you two would start eating breakfast together everyday (u also yell at him whenever he eats too quickly bc we already saw what happened at training camp smh), showing up to his practices and games and he shows up to yours if you play, etc

✓ one time at practice you were vibing and i hc oikawa and daishou as beaters so they were hitting the bludger at each other bc they HATE one another with a burning passion and they unintentionally hit it towards you bc while they tried to keep it from crashing into the stands y’all i-

✓ luckily for you tobio swooped in and saved you bc he was already kind of staring at you before this even happened 😔🤚 (while daishou and oikawa were trying to put the blame on each other i-)

✓ and eventually, kags even opens up to you abt his past one night while y'all are just gazing at the stars in comfortable silence which took you by surprise but you gave him words of encouragement, praise, and reassurance nonetheless AND HOMEBOY LITERALLY DIED YOU WERE DEADASS SO SWEET AND PATIENT W HIM ?? hes never really recieved anything like that before so he doesn’t even know how to react

✓ THATS WHEN HE STARTS FALLING FOR U HJDKJSHAJK

✓ he was becoming more shy around you, honestly blushing AT EVERYTHING YOU DO HE THINKS YOU’RE SO PRETTY

✓ shirabu was visibly cringing at all of this sis he dipped he couldn’t stand seeing how awkward y’all were around each other 😔

✓ kuroo finds out hella fucking fast and LITERALLY WONT STOP GRINNING WHEN YOU’RE AROUND LIKE SIR

✓ TERU AND FUTAKUCHI KEEP “ACCIDENTALLY” BUMPING INTO KAGS IN HOPES THAT HE FALLS ONTO YOU LIKE THOSE CLICHE WATTPAD STORIES HJDSALJF

✓ they’re never succcessful tho, kags literally broke a vase once and it gave everyone a heart attack bc mcgonagall was gonna kick their asses when she finds out😔🤚 they tried to gorilla glue the pieces back together i’m-

✓ meanwhile sakusa isn’t even there he’s too busy being a germaphobe

✓ and atsumu won’t stfu abt it kuroo always needs to slap a hand over his mouth whenever you’re around bc u bet he’s taking this opportunity to tell u that tobio likes u smh

✓ anyways fastforward a few months, daishou ended up talking kags into asking u to the yule ball w the help of tendou (bc oikawa refused to be there LMFAO)

✓ daishou even got mika in on it and she bought kags a bouquet of roses to ask u out with and HE WAS GONNA CHICKEN OUT LAST MINUTE BUT TERU AND FUTAKUCHI PUSHED HIM ALL THE WAY TO THE QUIDDITCH FIELD WHERE KUROO HELPED HIM ASK YOU TO SHOW UP AT

✓ when you saw kags with the flowers you were like “I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UP” bc shit you liked him too but homie is impossible to teach and a literal mess of a human being 😔

✓ manz took a sec to form proper sentences bc he was stuttering sm ??

✓ when kags finally asked u out, THE RELIEF THAT WASHED OVER HIM WHEN YOU DIDNT TURN HIM DOWN LMFAO HE WAS WORRIED

✓ HE WOULDN’T EVEN LOOK AT YOU HOMIE TRIED TO HIDE THE PINK THAT DUSTED HIS CHEEKS WITH THE ROSES HE HELD

✓ fastforward again LMFAO, when i tell u that u almost stumbled backwards and crashed into the tables of food when u saw your manz at the ball bc KAGS IN A TUXEDO UM YES PLEASE

✓ anyways i’ll leave what happens at the ball up to your imagination but allow me to mention how both your feet hurt like a bitch afterwards bc you kept stepping on each other while dancing 😔🖐️

—

ALICE LSDJFAL SORRY I POSTED THIS SO LATE BUT FCKKKK u really made my heart go !!! with these headcanons 🥺 these ARE LITERALLY SO CUTE. i love how you were able to draw interactions with all the boys why haven’t you started a writing blog yet i

goshiki and kags would be good friends ngl and kageyama in a suit at the yule ball…i am LOOKING <3

this was so good. alice i love u and u have stolen my heart once again. u are beAUTIFUL if akaashi doesn’t take you out for stargazing imma have to do it myself

[sparklingpax]

Tales From Iacon - Part 1: Kalos

A/N:

-Set in the Aligned continuity! Specifically, TFP :3

-Ik this translates to something like "noble" or "good" in Greek and this is the title because of the character you're gonna meet (just someone I came up with on the spot,,,,please don't get mad if theres already someone like that in TF I swear I did not intend to copy anyone's stuff—) and also because of the "goodness" and "nobility" in the ultimate message of his character's existence, as well as a reference to the idea of the cause for equality on Cybertron and all. Idk that probably doesn't make sense. It made more sense in my head!!!! OK anyway,,

-Please forgive me for typos or atrocious grammar things idk most of this was written at 4 am because I couldn't sleep also sorry if it's incoherent or boring or ooc please have mercy on me I just wanted to have some fun and write about these two because I love them--

-Also this is originally from my wattpad! (@/kunixjiro if you’re interested in my other stories as well) I will be updating chapters as I write them both there and here <3 </p>

 -I tried to use to terms that are specific to Cybertronian lingo. Please forgive me if there are any mistakes with the usages; I looked them up and tried to do some research based off a few of the books I have, but then again, I might have mistaken them to mean something else. Either way, pls leave a comment if you want me to explain what something means. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy the story! :D

/ / /

The sky was a perfect, clear blue.

White wisps of clouds floated in the sky at a carefree pace.

Yet, said clouds did not mar the color of the sky—the beautiful, blue sky.

Sitting far below, on a bench in a park in Iacon City, Orion Pax stared up at it. He contemplated the shapes of the clouds, wondering what exactly they reminded him of. Regardless of success in such an endeavor (or not), Orion found absolute peace in quietly contemplating nature around him.

He was therefore contented at present. Right then and there, Orion would have been more than happy to stay for centuries to come.

The sky is, after all, endless. Much more than what his small optics could see was beyond.

That thought alone excited his scholarly curiosity. Planets, life, solar systems! So much left to find in such a great, big universe. Orion shut his eyes and smiled. How wonderful it is, this day. Thank you, great Primus, for creating such a lovely place. He opened his eyes again to survey the world presently before him.

Closest to his bench, Orion saw a group of sparklings playing catch. He shifted his gaze to his right, seeing two adolescent bots walking together, giggling carefreely. To his left was an older bot, manning his small "Energon Cube-sugar" station with a contented smile. Someone was reading a book on another bench. Over at the far side of the grass was a dancer showing off their skills to some music as onlookers cheered encouragingly. Outside the grassy clearing, many more citizens of Iacon moved about—to work or to play Orion did not know, but nonetheless, the world was alive around him.

Megatronus is taking quite a long while to show up. I know he is often otherwise engaged with matters in his political or gladiatorial life...though I wonder if he even remembered...

Orion picked up his holopad and began scrolling through his assignment calendar while he waited. Nothing had been updated, so Orion sighed a little and shut off the device, returning his gaze to the sky.

He wondered why he hadn't brought the pad that had books to read on it.

Megatronus...please don't tell me you actually forgot again—

"Pax!"

At the sound of his name, Orion jolted a little. He smiled to himself as he saw Megatronus's large figure striding through the park, across the clearing to his bench. Well, I guess I was wrong.

When the silver-and-burgundy-plated bot reached him, Orion stood up to greet him.

"Still alive after all those matches in the rink?" He joked lightly. Megatronus grinned playfully.

"Still alive after all those exams?" Orion widened his eyes in slight surprise, then they shared a laugh. "Well, I see how it is. I am pleased to see you are well." Megatronus extended a servo.

Taking it, Orion replied, "Thank you. It is good that you are, also."

They sat down.

Originally, Orion had wanted to talk about philosophy regarding the societal structures of Cybertron, which both of them had qualms with at present. However, after Orion had gotten food from the stand nearby, and the pair had begun discussing interesting sights Iacon had to offer...

"I can show you the very store I purchased this from," Orion gestured to the holopad in his hand. "It has a wide variety of tools, as well as a wider range of prices." Megatronus perked up a little at the second statement. "The shopkeeper is a nice, old bot."

"Is he, now?" The gladiator leaned back and stared at the sky, considering whether it would be a good idea or not. His eyes were lit with a strange mix of inquiry, annoyance, and amusement. "Would he permit a lower caste bot into his store, Orion? According to society, I should not be in this city at all, anyway."

"With me, he most likely will." Orion answered firmly. He then frowned. "And don't say that, Megatronus. You and I both know that anybot belongs anywhere they please. Freedom is a basic right of all, is it not?"

Megatronus gave his friend a sideways look, the corner of his mouth twisted into a wry smile.

"Huh."

Orion sighed, then elaborated a little bit. "His name is Kalos and he has been a kind bot for all the time I have known him. I have never seen him raise his voice or say harsh things. In fact, he's been to Iacon once or twice, and he and Alpha Trion are friends."

As he spoke, Orion realized just how silly it was starting to sound—that he would know just how a lower-caste bot like Megatronus would be received at an upper-caste level store in Iacon. As an archivist at Iacon Hall of Records, as well as a scholar, it would stand to reason Orion had never seen Kalos be disrespectful or harsh to him—even if Orion was still not part of the upper-caste classes. It was true that he was not explicitly owed respect as per the society's standards.

However, it wasn't impossible that the people of Iacon were kind souls on their own.

I feel as though he is a kind bot regardless of caste. Things could still go well.

"I suppose the only way to know is to go and see for oneself." Megatronus's voice pulled Orion out of his thoughts. He turned to see Megatronus standing up. "Lead the way, Pax."

Orion nodded, smiling a little himself as he rose from the bench. "If we get in with no trouble, I can use my card to get something for you. After all, you traveled such a distance to meet me and I earned a little from —"

Megatronus laughed a little, placing a servo on his friend's shoulder.

"If we get in. Though..." He paused as if to say something, then shook his head. He patted Orion's shoulder gently. "Thank you just as well, Orion."

The young archivist tapped Megatronus's arm as a return gesture. "Anytime, Megatronus."

/ / /

As it was a rather calm day on the streets, Orion and Megatronus met little traffic of people as they walked, all the while discussing mostly inconsequential things. They arrived at the threshold of the store within about 4 units.

Upon reaching it, Orion immediately drifted from Megatronus mid-speech to go stare at the display window. He remembered that Kalos often put in updated editions of things or entirely new items behind the glass, and wondered if there was anything new today.

Megatronus raised an eyebrow in curiosity, drawing closer to the window. He was amazed by all the little things in the window. Even if he didn't know what they were or what they did, he was still happy to look at the items anyway.

"These are such nice looking things, aren't they?" Orion commented as his gaze jumped from one thing to the next. Megatronus sighed lightly.

"Back on Kaon, there are no such stores as this one. We do not have much there, anyway." He murmured quietly. Nor Shanix enough to buy anything if indeed such stores existed.

Orion immediately felt bad and turned to say something to apologize, but when he saw Megatronus, he was relieved. His friend had a calm and light expression on his face as he stared at the display.

"Go in?"

"Let's."

Orion moved away from the display and walked through the front door. Megatronus followed cautiously behind, shifting his gaze from side to side at the clean, organized shelves and tables.

It was his first time in such a nicely kept store. He was content to be there even for a second.

Even if moments from now, this "Kalos" asks me my profession and I am thrown out for not following caste rules—

"Megatronus, come!" Orion called. He was standing by a small table in the back, upon which a few variations of the holopad he owned were placed neatly beside one another. On a paper below the table were listed the prices. As Megatronus drew closer, he made a noise of interest at the fair price for each device.

Though I don't have enough for anything, these seem proportionate. Not too much, yet not too little. Interesting.

Orion watched Megatronus as he leaned in to observe the details of the pads, then without saying anything, swiveled around to look at the other things on the walls.

He had such a large figure, Orion was a little worried he would accidentally knock something over. But, then again, Megatronus was not clumsy. Orion decided it would be safe if he walked to another part of the store and let his friend browse at his own discretion.

"Ahh, Orion! It is nice to see you again." The kind voice belonged to the bot walking down the aisle. Orion turned to greet the bot, smiling warmly.

"It is nice to see you as well, Kalos. The display outside looked wonderful as always." The old shopkeeper chuckled, patting Orion's back. His plating of many shades of green looked quite shiny, Orion noted internally.

"I had hoped it would! It pleases me that you enjoyed it."

They both turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the opposite side of the aisle. Megatronus was about to say something, but stopped as soon as he saw Kalos. His demeanor changed and became more guarded almost immediately—Orion sensed it.

"Good afternoon. You are Kalos?" Megatronus came to a halt next to Orion. Kalos smiled, nodding.

"That is me, indeed! Welcome to my store. I haven't seen you here before, are you new to the town as a resident, sir?"

"I am not..." Megatronus stared at the ground until Orion nudged him discreetly.

"Ah! Traveling from another city, then! How interesting." Kalos had the purest look of kindness in his entire demeanor. Megatronus took note of this. He could see why Orion had suggested things would go well.

"Yes..." He turned to Orion to see if the archivist could introduce him instead. Orion took the cue and made a gesture to Megatronus.

"This is a good friend of mine from Kaon City. His name is Megatronus."

Externally, Megatronus and Orion remained completely calm, but internally, they were waiting for something bad to happen.

...nothing did.

Kalos, without missing a beat, clapped his hands together. "Welcome to Iacon, Megatronus! Kaon is such a long way, and you have traveled far. Thank you for coming into my store!" He seemed not to care. Orion was relieved, though he did not show it.

Megatronus was shocked, but he simply laughed a little and thanked Kalos.

Minutes later, Megatronus had said his goodbyes and left the store to wait outside. Orion was at the checkout, thinking quietly about how he had been right (and how glad he was that he had been).

"Lost in thought, Orion?" Kalos began working the register. "I know who that bot is." He started quietly. Orion immediately felt his stomach churn. Oh no. He could report both of us—

"I agree with what he says. The idea of true equality and the end of this caste system—I always have. What kind of a world would this be if we were to pick and choose who gets our kindness and respect because they were born one way or another?" He shook his head and chuckled as Orion simply stared in complete shock.

Well...I did not expect this, for sure...

"You're probably wondering why an old bot like me would go with the new order rather than the old..." He handed the bag to the young scholar with a smile. "I think with all the wisdom I've gathered from my time alive, I'd be an utter fool not to see corruption when it happens. And I'm sure you believe the same as me."

Orion nodded slowly. He had an entirely new respect for Kalos.

What a great bot...he really is kind on his own.

The green-plated shopkeeper extended a servo and patted Orion's chest lightly, then drew it away and placed it on his own chest.

"That's all that matters in a bot, really. If Primus gave one to each and every bot alive, then it only makes sense that....Primus meant to say we all belong."

/ / /

Kalos stood at his shop's threshold and waved at Orion and Megatronus as they began to walk away. Orion turned and waved back.

"Thank you again, Kalos! See you soon!"

"Anytime, Orion! And Megatronus," The silver-burgundy bot turned at his name. "Safe travels back home! Come again sometime!"

Megatronus smiled back. He waved.

The pair made their way back to the entrance at Iacon, arriving just as the sun was going down.

Iacon was lit warm gold and pinkish silver as the rays of the sun touched the metal and sunk behind the great mountains in the distance. The sky above was painted a vibrant spray of colors, as if to dance one last time before the darkness of majestic, navy night came upon it.

"Here, Megatronus." Orion handed him the bag. "Don't break it." He joked, a trace of a grin on his face. His friend smirked.

"I'll only bring it when I fight lower-level threats." He shot back. They laughed.

Megatronus held it up to the sunlight, to look at the intricacy of the device. It was very elegant, just as the rest of the store had been. And Kalos...Orion didn't want to tell him yet what they had spoken about, but Megatronus sensed that Kalos was someone he could trust.

As Orion had put it, a true, kind-sparked individual.

"Thank you, Pax. I will take care of this and...try not to break it."

"You're welcome. Thank you for coming all the way here to Iacon. I...hope we can meet again soon, Megatronus." Orion and Megatronus shook hands.

As Megatronus turned to leave, he stopped, remembering something.

"Orion. I do have one question about this..." Orion tilted his head to the side a little.

Megatronus activated it. "How...exactly does this work, beyond activation?"

"Do you mean what can it be purposed for?"

"No, I mean.....I don't exactly know....how to use it...."

Silence hung in the air for a nanosecond or two, and then both of them burst into laughter.

The light of the sky shone on their plating, coating them in its soft, golden, pinkish light as they laughed together over such a silly thing.

Together, as good friends in the midst of the brewing troubles of Cybertron.

Laughing at how Megatronus now owned a holopad he had no clue how to use.

[floralseokjin]

;of the sol (m)

A runaway, you’re not accustomed to the way the kind village that took you in live their life—worshipping and celebrating the dragons’ descendants. A story you only ever thought was legend, is that of real life, and you’ve fallen in love with one of this century’s dragon kin. The baker’s son, Kim Seokjin.

;or alternatively, Seokjin is hiding a gold dragon dick under all that clothing...

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; (loose) yona of the dawn au, dragon! seokjin, blonde! seokjin, smut; first time, lots of romance, lots of fluff, …...a dragon dick…… (pls give it a chance) words; 13,359

Inspired and semi-based around Yona of the Dawn. (if you have time, I really recommend the anime/manga, it’s amazing!)

⤑ read over on ao3 here

author’s note; can you believe it’s finally here? I could cry happy tears, seeing as this was an idea of mine I had since early February. Their love story was daunting to write because of all the fluff…and well…the dragon dick… The concept sounds a little crazy, but it truly is the sweetest, most romantic thing i’ve ever written, and i’m so happy with it! p.s. I really wanted to link a pic of his ahem… 🐲🍆but I really don’t want to risk this story being flagged anyway haha, so if you’re curious, please message me and i’ll try to attach the pic! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy ~

Kim Seokjin was your knight in shining armour. Quite literally when he found you that night with his father, although you weren’t to know that until a couple of months down the line. It was a peculiar thought to realise you’d been residing in the village of Helios for over a year. Seokjin had taken you to market with him on the anniversary, selling the bread he and his father baked. That was how they had come across you that fateful night, on their way back from trading, finding you slumped against a tree, exhausted and dehydrated. It seemed fitting to remember such an occasion, because ever since that night everything had changed for the better. You had passed the tree on your way to the surrounding villages, lost in sudden thoughts and memories. It seemed so long ago now.

A runaway, you had escaped your gloomy village in despair, unable to stick a moment longer. If you were to die of starvation, you’d rather it be some place else. You had no idea of the outside world, only jumbled tales and fables that were surely fiction, but too scared to ask for shelter, you’d kept on travelling, moving past every village you came across. You knew without Seokjin and his father’s kindness you would have died out there. They could’ve walked past you, surely coming across all types of riffraff whilst traveling, but instead they rushed forward, immediately checking if you were alive. You would never forget the warmth in Seokjin’s hands that night as he cupped your face and searched for life in your eyes.

It was a warmth you were used to, that’s why. These days it was hard to find you apart, his fingers entwined with yours as you walked around the village, enjoying your free time, away from work. The Kim bakery was the heart and soul of Helios and you were honoured to be working there. You were just so honoured to be living in the beautiful village, period. It had taken you a few weeks to heal fully when you first arrived, and you remembered being so scared that you’d be asked to leave once better. You loved it here, everyone was so kind and accommodating. Especially Seokjin’s family, with who you were staying with. It was only him and his parents, a family unit you never had, and as hard as you tried not to, you’d found yourself growing attached to them. You were over the moon when they asked you to stay, enough room for you to live with them in the house next door to their bakery.

You’d began working at Kim’sBakery—so fittingly titled after the family name—gradually. At first it was to help out while Seokjin and his father went off to trade, just his mother and the baker boy left to hold the fort. They were thankful for your aid, and slowly it happened more and more, a day or two here and there turning into hours upon hours a week. You did not mind at all, it was fun having something to do, and in all honesty, you had never had a job before. Your own village was poor and tarnished, population hardly there for work to be profitable. Most people survived by stealing from passing travellers and hunting wild animals in the woods. You were overjoyed when Seokjin’s parents finally sat you down and asked if you’d like to make it official. Now, you worked almost every day except for Sundays when Kim’s Bakery was closed for the holy day.

Helios village didn’t worship just any average God though. It was a dragon. You had heard lots of tales about this land, once home to such beautiful, mystical creatures hundreds and hundreds of years ago who lived amongst the humans. All colours, all sizes, until one day, the King dragon, a beautiful red beast named Airule, the largest one of all, decided he wanted to change six into men, making them the leaders of six respected tribes of freshly built villages. He wanted to bring the land, the Kingdom of Airule, so fittingly named, together. To create harmony and tranquility; a Kingdom which he would rule peacefully.

That was as far as your knowledge had gone, taking it for hearsay and fiction, but alas, you had been naïve, cooped up in your tiny village and unable to explore and travel the rest of the land. It was notfiction, you found that out once residing in Helios. What you thought was legend, was that of real life, and it blew your mind.

Helios was one of the six main villages in this Kingdom. Six villages for six dragons. Long ago it was land to the Sol tribe, the ancestors of today, and its leader was none other than the golden dragon Helios, a name the village had been christened with too. The human form he lived life in had been beyond stunning, drawings passed down through the centuries, alive and well in children’s books used as bedtime tales. He had flowing long blonde hair, golden in the sunlight, a body strong and muscular, and he radiated love and positivity wherever he went. A smile that was contagious, or so you had read. You’d only found that out since your time here, noticing and wondering what the meaning was of the giant golden dragon statue in the middle of the village. Helios’ dragon from was even more beautiful, scales dazzling under the sun.

That was another thing. The village of Helios was always draped in the glow of the sun, leaves on the tree in beautiful shades of rusty orange, and when it rained—enough to keep drought away and crops fresh—you were always blessed with a rainbow. It truly was a beautiful place and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have finally found happiness.

A large part of said happiness was down to one boy. Kim Seokjin. Who just so happened to be the sun dragon’s kin. Unbelievable, implausible. You had no idea there was such a thing until he’d confided in you one evening. He was oddly serious before he explained everything, concerning you, but the truth rendered you speechless. You had no clue there were even such things, but as you looked up at the statue that glowed as the sun set for the day, you listened in earnest.

Born every twenty-five years or so—maybe a lot longer depending on creation, Helios was blessed with a fresh sun kin. It could be passed down father to son, a logical explanation, but if the man created no sons, it could also be at random—the village were all descendants of the dragon after all… The latter was Seokjin’s case. Born just as the old sol kin was at death’s door, with golden hair and sun kissed skin, perhaps at first glance he could pass as any babe birthed in this hearty village. For the rays of the sun beamed down on them all. Only there was one difference. Something that set him apart from the rest. He glowed like the sun itself. Blinding, a beacon, and there was no way of denying it. A new dragon had blessed Helios. A new King was born.

Of course, the blazing light simmered after a few days, but the adoration didn’t. He was visited by every single villager, a ceremony in place to pass down the honour. Gifted things he couldn’t possibly have any use for as a week-old baby, and he’d been worshiped ever since. Twenty-one years of unrelenting love. You had always been curious as to why the village seemed to hang off every word he said. Curious as to why everyone looked at him with such love and devotion. Seokjin was indeed amazing, your short time knowing him had taught you that. He was so kind, so attentive. Voice as gentle as a lamb, but a body built like it could go to war. It all made sense. He had the dragon in him. He wasthe dragon. The children’s books could tell you all you needed to know about the dragon Helios, and it was now obvious, every description was Seokjin. He radiated the positivity this world very much needed, like a light. Like a beacon.

He was telling you all this now, and felt awful for keeping it from you, but you had been the first person to see him as just that: a person. His whole life he’d been placed on a pedestal, and even though the village loved him, and he loved the village, they didn’t treat him like one of them. He was different. A greater being. Above them. With you, he was equal. He wanted to be greedy for a little while, because you made him realise he was a good man. You made your decision without any bias, and it was because of that, he finally had to indulge the truth.

He showed you something. Something unbelievable. Something that surely should be impossible, but it wasn’t. Not when he was of dragon. Granted a gift from Helios himself. Your eyes bulged and your mouth gaped as you watched Seokjin birth a ball of golden light from his palms.How else did you think I found you that night,he’d laughed gently, the orb bouncing around between his hands. And there it was, it all fitted together. Your knight in shining armour.

That wasn’t the first time you felt something different for him, but it was the first time you truly acknowledged it. Stood there, the sun finally set for the day, awing as he let the ball of light bounce around your body. Your eyes met and lingered, and your heart jumped inside your chest.

You had no idea his heart was also beating a little harder for you. He asked you if you would accompany him for a picnic down at lake tomorrow afternoon and you accepted eagerly, unable to sleep well that night, nor work properly the next morning. Your heart wouldn’t stop leaping around as you made your way to the lake, but it momentarily stopped once you saw him lounging on a blanket by the bank. This place was the prettiest in the village, where the sun shined the strongest, and you swear he seemed to glow in the rays.

He hadn’t been in the bakery today, training the baker boy how to trade for days he wasn’t available and you soon pushed your nerves to the back of your mind to ask him how it had gone. Talking with Seokjin was always easy, he had been your friend for a couple of months now, but it was increasingly harder to concentrate with the realisation of your feelings. Now he had confided in you, you only felt a deeper connection, and by the way your bodies leant into one another, you could tell he felt it too.

“Do you ever feel scared?” You asked him, tilting your head, squinting slightly as the sun hit your eyes. You could only imagine the pressure he felt on a daily basis. The kin of a dragon, the village’s heart. It was a lot of strain for a boy barely an adult.

“I do,” he admitted quietly after some thought. He looked you in the eyes, as if he’d decided right then and there to be as truthful as he could. “I often wonder why me? I’m just a son born to a baker. There must be someone worthier.”

“Don’t feel like that,” you insisted, unable to stop yourself when you reached for his hand, soothing it with a squeeze. “I think you’re worthy.” Your voice was but a whisper, suddenly shy.

His nose wrinkled, a lopsided smile itching at his mouth. His smile was always your favourite, but his laugh was a close second. It tinkered in your ears. “You only found out I was part dragon not twenty-four hours ago.”

That made you blush a little, cheeks heating up in embarrassment and you cast your gaze down, eyes catching your hand still atop his. For some reason you couldn’t seem to pull it away. He was correct, before yesterday he had still been human. He wasstill human. There was no difference for you. He was still the same person, and if you thought really hard, if the dragons still had to exist, you couldn’t think of a better person to take the honour. Before you could explain that though, he spoke again.

“Is it stupid that I’ve felt the most at ease with myself since I confided in you?”

Your head shot up at that, surprise in your eyes, just as he slipped his hand from under yours to squeeze it instead. He watched you warily, afraid he’d said something he shouldn’t.

“Not at all,” you reassured him with a small smile. “I’m glad I could help in some way.” You didn’t let him know how warm and happy that made you feel. How hopeful.

Something had changed between you and he since yesterday. It was like you were waiting with bated breath for something. Something exciting, something you’d only let yourself pine for not twenty-four hours ago. You both turned your heads to the sky, watching it in absentminded enjoyment. Your hands stayed together. It felt comforting. It feltright.

“Are there more of you…?” Your curiosity itched at you. It was impossible to sate it. There was so much you wanted to know. A world you had been secluded from for so long. A world you could never have imagined before now. You felt Seokjin’s gaze on and you turned your head to face him again. “Dragons,” you added, eliminating the crease of his brow instantly.

He nodded slowly, turning back to look at the sun. You could tell he felt at ease here. He looked magical. How could you have never known? It radiated from him. “Six more, if legend is correct.”

“Will you ever meet them?” What did they look like? What powers did they hold? It was all too much. You wanted to talk about this forever.

“Probably not.” Seokjin chuckled, shrugging casually. “Airule is vast. Some parts so dangerous not a soul in their right mind would try to cross.” That much was true. The south was tamer in comparison. You’d heard stories about further north, and travelling across the kingdom was near impossible. Wasn’t he a little curious though? To learn more about where he came from… To meet people just like him…

You were so lost in thought you hadn’t realised Seokjin’s attention had turned to you, a small smile on his face. Almost fond. It made your heart skip a beat. That pesky thing. “You take this all in your stride,” he mused. His voice sounded so gentle, fluttered through your body, almost made you want to shut your eyes, to revel in it a little more. A little longer.

You smiled wide, making sure to lock eyes as you spoke. “Maybe I always knew you were special.”

His eyes widened, taken by surprise and he looked away hastily, pink colouring his cheeks as he tried to think of something to say. He couldn’t. Speechless. It was cute. The realisation made you feel all warm inside. More so when he chose to squeeze your hand in reply instead. You acted without much thought, recklessly maybe, but it just felt right. To link your fingers carefully with his. The action made you feel safe. He didn’t pull away. He just squeezed harder.

Yes, something had changed between you two. You were sure of it now. The hope in your chest bloomed until it slightly overwhelmed you, and all you could do was stare out over the lake. The sun had begun to sink a tad. You were relieved when Seokjin spoke again.

“I have more secrets.” He began hesitantly, swallowing before continuing. “Confessions.” You turned your head his direction, watching him carefully. He kept his eyes locked on the sky. “I thought I’d be selfish if I told you, but I can’t keep this silent for any longer…and… and besides,” he chuckled lightly, upturning his shoulder. “I think you wouldn’t mind at all.”

Your heart stopped then. At his words. At his actions, as he turned to face you. To stare you right in the eyes. You knew. You knew what he was about to say.

“I like you.” You gripped his hand tighter, his words overcoming you. Surely this was a dream… However, no. Fate had been kind to you since Seokjin found you. “I’ve fallen for you, and there’s no escape…”

He almost sounded sad, mouth downturned as his gaze fell to his lap. You took that as worry. Worry you didn’t like him back, and you clung to him harder, moving closer. Your shoulders brushed against one another, legs soon after. You wanted to touch him some more. You wanted to never let him go. You wanted him to be yours.

“Seokjin…” You breathed, hot air hitting his cheek. He closed his eyes, like he couldn’t bear to see you this close. Feelyou this close. “You know I like you too.”

His next breath was shaky. It left him like he was almost afraid, but he fluttered his eyes open again. They pooled with sincerity. His tone of voice the same. “You see me for me.”

Why did he seem so shocked? What else would you see him for? You couldn’t help but slowly reach for his face with your free hand, cupping the soft flesh of his cheek. He fell into your touch.

“Even now, after you know the truth you don’t treat me differently. You’re not melodramatic, feverish…” You giggled at that. The girls that seemed to flock him every time he appeared at the bakery didn’t go unnoticed to you. Maybe it was the jealousy, not that you would ever admit that out loud, but it was incredibly obvious that most of the women of Helios had an enthusiastic reaction to him because of who he was… Although, what he looked like sure helped things too… He was beautiful. Maybe he didn’t see that…

Your giggle died down when he wrinkled his nose, still lost in thoughts of his own. “…Disgusted…”

That was absurd. Impossible. He was talking nonsense, and you wanted to kiss it from his mouth. To abolish such foolish thoughts. You carefully slipped your fingers from his, and he went to chase them on instinct, stopping when he felt your hand clasp the back of his neck, locking him place. You tilted your head to press your forehead against his. He took another shaky breath.

“I think you’re amazing.”

You were taken by surprise when he wrapped his arm around your waist, embracing you intimately as his other hand toyed in the locks of your hair. His next breath sounded like a relieved sigh. You carried on. Finding it easy to confess.

“Always have. Even more so now.” He watched you pause and smile with curiosity. “Seokjin, I can’t fight it any longer.”

It seemed like you both couldn’t. Your breathes mingling together. The warmth of your body heat merging also. Your eyes closed the same time your mouths met, and you knew right then, right there, you had never felt happier. It was like you were born to experience this moment. Born to feel the plush of his lips against yours. Born to taste the sweetness of his tongue.

You had dreamed about your first kiss since you were a child, long before the harsh realities of life became apparent, and over time the small act seemed stupid and insignificant. Meeting Seokjin had made you wonder once again… Nerves were nonexistent, not when it concerned the boy in front of you. It was just natural.

He was a gentle kisser. Gentle and kind, just like himself, and you only stopped momentarily to catch your breath and tell him the most important thing of all. The last thing that needed to be shared.

“I’m glad you found me.”

He smiled, lips kiss bitten—your doing, a realisation that made your face burn semi- innocently—and stroked your cheeks, thumbs circling the apples, agreeing wholeheartedly before he was closing the distance once more.

The murmur of your name sounded against your sticky mouth as Seokjin tried to pull back. He moved almost hesitantly, reluctantly, because you knew he didn’t want to stop. However, he did manage to break away enough to rush out more words, a breathless chuckle leaving him too. “Let us catch our breath, my love.”

You pouted instantly, crushing him to you as you rolled him onto his back. He let you without little resistance. You wouldn’t be able to do it otherwise. “I don’t want to,” you whined, catching his lips with yours again.

Kissing Seokjin was addictive. With each passing month, week, day, it was getting harder and harder to control yourself. The burning need in your body needed to be satisfied. You’d surely blow up if not. You’d been happily courting for over ten months now, and despite enjoying the content feeling, the safe feeling when it came to having him in your life—not only romantically, but he was your friend too—there was just something missing… Lover.

Even the word made made you heat up, cheeks ablaze, palms turning sweaty. You were in love with each other, you told that to one another every single day, so logically there was one last step to go… You wanted him. You wanted him to make love to you.

Frowned upon by the elders, consummating such a relationship was near impossible to do. You had to make use of stolen moments like these, in your bedroom, when you were both free from the bakery, Seokjin’s father out to trade with the baker boy, Seokjin’s mother busy baking in the kitchen. This afternoon was the perfect opportunity, they weren’t given to you often, but Seokjin… Seokjin was always hesitant to take it to the next level.

“W-we should stop.” He tried again. This time turning his head when you tried to chase his kiss instinctively. He averted his gaze too, almost refusing to look you in the eyes. However, his mouth was parted, breathing shallow. He couldn’t hide how affected he was. What was he running from?

“Seokjin,” you insisted with a sigh. “I really do not mind.” If he felt guilty, there was no need. You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. His irises were almost black, pupils blown out double their size. The carnal urge inside you roared, but your voice stayed softly sweet. “I knowhow much you love me.”

He shook his head as best he could. “It’s taking advantage.”

“Of what?” You laughed loudly. “Don’t be so silly.” There was no such thing as taking advantage. Not when your love for Seokjin was concerned. Besides, was it so bad? In the end you both wanted to take advantage of one another. The itch for a pleasure unimaginable incessant. You gripped his face harder, so close your mouth brushed against his as you murmured more clandestine confessions. “I want you. So bad.” His lips moved like he couldn’t control it. Capturing your bottom lip to tug softly downwards. Your heart jumped, just like something between your legs. This was torture.

A groan tore from your throat as your neck fell back. “Kim Seokjin, you drive me crazy.”

“Likewise.” He agreed, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he closed his eyes. He looked beautiful lying on your bed, blonde hair fluffed out against the pillows. He truly was out of this world. A painting. Your body and heart were near to bursting.

“So. Let us give way to sin. Isn’t that what they say?” You urged, clinging to his shirt to tug at him almost petulantly.

He sighed gently, long fingers circling your wrists, stilling your motions. The action was stern enough to make you stop in your tracks. “You speak without thought.” He murmured. It somehow caused your cheeks to flush, embarrassment settling uncomfortably in your chest.

You let him carefully sit you upright, with him following until you slid to the side to let him bring his legs out from under you. His feet hit the floor. Gentle, but it was a thud to your ears. His back was to you now. “I should go back next door. See if they need me.”

“They don’t.” You couldn’t help but try one last time, even though his rejection was heavy in your heart. Your hand landed on his shoulder clumsily, attempting to stop him from rising. You didn’t miss the way he stiffened. “Seokjin…” You barely whispered, voice filled with concern. It even wobbled, so you swallowed, hardening your exterior. If there was one thing this life had taught you, it was to always act braver than you were—than you felt.

You tried again. “Don’t you want me like that?”

Seokjin whipped around immediately, horror in his eyes and tone as he spoke. “Of course I do!” He clasped your hands tightly. Almost a little tootightly, as if he needed you to understand.

“Then what’s the problem?” You begged quietly. You needed to know. If it was because he wanted to wait, that was fine with you, of course it was. However, from the way he was acting right now—the way he’d been acting every time he stopped you short—it was something more than that. The anguish on his face right now told you that. He looked pained, beside himself as he battled an internal dilemma raging inside his mind.

Finally, he spoke. Voice tiny, gaze unable to hold yours as he looked down at your clasped hands. He opened his mouth, stopped himself and then let go of you, tugging at his cotton trousers instead. He tried again. “You won’t want me when you see the truth.”

“See the truth?” You puzzled after a tiny pause. You wanted to reach out to him but you were too scared. Nothing made any sense.

He shook his head, eyes closed as he scoffed pitifully. “I really should go…”

“Seokjin.” Your voice was gentle, tender, as you tried to let him know everything was alright. Whatever he was afraid of, he didn’t need to be. Whatever it was he was keeping from you, you would not stop loving him, wantinghim. He looked up, blinking slowly as he gazed into your eyes. You had never seen him look so scared. Seokjin, your Seokjin, who was always so bright and brave. You continued, desperate to make your voice reassuring. “Tell me. We promised no secrets.”

He looked at you still, as if he was contemplating his options. You watched him shift, and for a split second you were half expecting him to bolt. Instead he averted his gaze yet again.

“Okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “When I was born…” You waited patiently, the unexpected wrenching you with worry. Silence felt like it dragged on for eternity until he finally continued. “There was a…deformity…”

The word seemed to taste foul in his mouth, lips downturned in a grimace. Your heart skipped a beat, shock and confusion rooting inside you. Whatever it was you expected him to say, it was not that.“The dragon’s gift came with a curse.” He sounded bitter. Pained and bitter.

‘Where?” You wondered loudly, unable to stop yourself. “What are you speaking about? I have never seen anything…”

He shook his head again. “It’s not visible right now.” He sounded weak, speech stunted as he tried to lock eyes with you once again. “We dragon kin possess powers.”

He was struggling and you tried to help, edging a hand closer to his atop his thigh. His body was still half twisted away from you, and you wanted him to relax, lie back again, assure you he wasn’t going anywhere… wasn’t leaving you. You nodded earnestly. “Yours, light to darkness.”

“Mhm.” He tried to agree passively, pulling at a loose thread on his trousers. “But we also have physical traits too.” He was slow again, cautious. “Scales. Limbs. Tails…” Your eyes widened, the news a shock. He had never told you that, which made you wonder what his physical defect was… “Mine is much…” He stopped to grimace, physically disgusted. “Mine is vile.” He spat the word. You felt the hate behind it.

You rushed to hold his hand, unable to hear him talk like this. “Seok—

“Embarrassing. Inhuman.” He cut you off, his brain now going in to overdrive. Like he couldn’t stop. He pushed your hand away, looking at you gravely. “You don’t understand.” He was anguished, sorrowful, humiliated. “It stops me from showing you how much I love you…”

Your brow furrowed, trying to make sense of his words, and then ever so slowly everything began to get clearer. Your hand fell limp to the side of his leg, eyes grazing down his torso and into his lap. Stops him from showing…That could only mean one thing. How he’d been reluctant to take your courtship further. Why he’d been reluctant… Physical traits.That’s what he’d just said, so what did that mean? Scales… You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but what? He still hadn’t told you exactly what was wrong. You felt wrong for even guessing such a thing, but by the look in his eyes, you knew your assumption was correct.

“You’ve guessed.” He finally confirmed solemnly. “I’m so sorry. I kept this from you when I shouldn’t have, but how do I dare tell anyone?”

You wanted to reassure him straight away. To tell him not to be silly. However, your head was spinning, trying to make sense of such a baffling thought. Shock was still sparked in your body, and it showed on your face.

“Won’t they see me as a monster?” He continued, almost like he was asking himself. You caught his eye as he looked up. “Do you see me as a monster?”

“Seokjin, no,” you gasped immediately. This time when you cupped his hand he didn’t pull away. You seemed to catch him by surprise. He was surprised you weren’t repulsed by him? That poor boy. What did he think he was? You knew right then and there, that this piece of new information didn’t change a thing between you and him. He needed to understand. “Seokjin, you’re not a monster.” You insisted, but he shook his head adamantly.

“Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have let this go on for so long. Not when I knewit would end like this.”

End? You panicked. What was ending? “This is silly.” Your voice was shrill when filled with the reality of loosing Seokjin. Why was he acting like this was over? Nothing had changed. Why couldn’t he see that? Why couldn’t he listen to you?

You reached for his face instead, clasping his cheeks so hard he’d surely get pressure marks. “Seokjin, you’re being silly. Let’s talk some more. Tell me everything, so I can understand better.” You were pleading, eyes wide, filling with tears.

“There is no point,” he half-wailed, wrenching from your grip. “Don’t you see? There’s nothing to understand, other than I’m a monster to you.”

“No,” you uttered, ears burning, not wanting to hear this nonsense.

“If you saw, you’d realise.” His voice was low, unlike anything you’d ever heard before. Almost like a warning.

“You are definitely not anything of the sort!” You were near to shouting, desperate for him to listen to you. What would it take for him to believe you? You went to reach for him again. “You’re—

“I need to go.” He raised his voice. Louder than yours, and pulled back from your hands, standing to the floor.

“No,” you cried, your fingers managing to catch in the loose fabric of his shirt, tugging as tight as you could. His hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

“I wantto go.” He whispered. Voice tight, eyes pooling with tears that threatened to spill any moment. That just broke your heart even more. “I want to be alone. I’m sorry.”

He let go of your wrist and you loosened your grip on him, hand dropping to the bed. What choice did you have? You needed to respect his wishes. He stepped back immediately, turning from you as he flew to the door.

“I’m sorry for everything,” was the last thing he said as he shut it behind him.

That night you couldn’t sleep a wink. Once the tears had come, they couldn’t stop for the whole evening. That was your first argument. If you could call it that. Neither of you were angry at one another. At least you thought Seokjin wasn’t mad at you. Mad at himself it seemed, yes. Ashamed, mortified? They both seemed fitting too. Even though he had no need.

Your head buzzed. Trying to make sense of the little information you had. Your imagination could have never fathomed such a thing, so it was finding it hard to do so right now, but gradually, and as the sun began to rise, throwing Helios into a dim glow, the shock wore off. It didn’t change a thing.

It didn’t change anything at all. You were positive. You still loved Seokjin just as much as you had moments before his cryptic revelation. You were even… No, you couldn’t think that…but… Your hunger for him still ached away at you. It was fierce now, because he’d finally acknowledged something deeper between you two. He felt it too. It stops me from showing you how much I love you… He’dsaid that. He wanted you too. However, he was afraid you wouldn’t want him when you found out the truth.

You were torn. Feeling too many emotions at once. Your need for him, but also your sorrow. Your heart ached. He had lived with this secret for twenty-one years. Living his life under the assumption it would be alone. He was the apple of the village’s eye, but in his eyes, he harboured a nasty secret. He thought he was a monster, and that just broke your heart.

He was nothing of the sort. The kindest, gentlest man you’d ever met, and nothing would change that. It was about what was on the inside, not a physical deformity.

Shamefully, just with all this thinking, you pulsed underneath the sheets. Curiosity itched away at you, wondering what he looked liked. If only he knew. Would he be disgusted? Or would he realise that you didn’t mind at all? Nothing he could tell you could make you love him less. Make you want him less… You needed to talk to him. Needed to make him understand.

However, the next day brought busy work. You were in the bakery all day, rushed off your feet and Seokjin had been out with his father since 7am, visiting the nearing village. You’d seen him in passing this morning, but he’d paid little attention to you, refusing to meet your eyes when you’d politely greeted him good morning as he left the dining table. You’d carried on your day with a heavy heart and when they still hadn’t arrived back to catch supper, you’d made your way to bed with an even heavier one, stomach empty with loss of appetite. Perhaps Seokjin’s mother knew something was wrong, but she didn’t bring it up, wishing you a good night’s sleep with a kiss to your cheek.

You’d been lying in bed, wide awake, for an hour when you’d finally heard the tell-tale noises of his arrival back home. He and his father always tried to be as silent as possible, but the stairs creaked when they tip-toed up them and you could hear them bid goodnight to one another. You thought you may be able to sleep then, relieved he’d come home safe, but the need to see him pained you. You couldn’t spend another night like this. Tomorrow may be busier, a Saturday. You had never not said a word to one another for longer than a few hours…

You waited another thirty minutes, careful to make sure his parents had enough time to fall sound asleep, before you got out of bed, creeping out the door and down the hallway. Seokjin’s bedroom was right at the end and thankfully his mother and father resided the opposite. They’d collapse of heart failure if they found out what you were doing, but you couldn’t feel guilty now. You needed to see your boyfriend.

His door was slightly ajar, and any worry you had of him possibly being asleep disintegrated when you saw the glow of his oil burner in the dark. You lightly tapped on the wood, hoping he could hear you. When you were met with silence, you whispered his name. Another silence, and then he whispered yours back, question in his tone. You took that as an invite, quietly pushing the door open and slipping inside.

Seokjin was sitting up in bed, cheesecloth sleepshirt threaded loose across his chest and shoulders. His blonde hair laid across his forehead, having brushed it for the night and he had his diary in his lap, open has he wrote. You opened your mouth to apologise for interrupting him, but he beat you to it.

“Are you angry at me?” He looked worried, eyes wide as he leaned forward, discarding the diary atop his nightstand.

You shook your head firmly. “Never.”

“But I lied to you.” He sounded confused. Voice small, eyebrows knitted together.

“You have never lied to me.” Seokjin was an honest man. He may have hidden things from you, but they were not lies. He was just scared to disclose the truth. However, he needn’t be. Nothing had changed.

“Please,” you begged softly, taking a step closer to the foot of his bed. “I need you. Can you just hold me right now?”

He watched you, seemingly in a little shock. Whatever he expected your reaction to be at his news, it was clearly not this, but he nodded slowly, stretching his arms out to when you began to crawl up the bed. You latched onto his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. He clung on to you just as hard, burying his face into your hair and taking a relieved breath. You could have stayed like that all night, but soon enough you found yourself under the sheets with him, curled into his body, head cushioned by his chest as he ran his fingers through your locks.

“If my parents find you out of your bed…” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. You buried your face into him, filling your nostrils with his scent as you closed your eyes. You felt ten times lighter. Dramatic maybe, but you were so glad to be back in his arms. For the whole day you’d been scared that would never happen again…

“They’re asleep. I waited,” you reassured him. He didn’t say anything in reply, fingers never stilling as he soothed the strands down your back. You lifted your head a tad, looking up at him before placing a kiss on his chest. Your lips caught the gaps of his skin, visible through the threaded laces. You wanted to kiss every inch of him. “I don’t like not speaking with you.”

“Likewise.” His smile was sad, voice gentle. He cupped your face now, thumb caressing circles. “I’m so terribly sorry. I was… ashamed yesterday.” He looked away as he finished, still obviously embarrassed by the memory. “Still am.” He added, chuckling softly. “But you can’t see my cheeks burn in this dim lighting.”

Your eyes met for a second and you couldn’t help but giggle along too. Seeing him joke around was relieving. You shuffled closer to him, face now level with his as you took it in your palms. “You never have to be ashamed.” You whispered. “Ever.” You watched for a reaction. Instead he closed his eye, visibly struggling with your words. What would it take to make him believe you? If only he could open up more…

“Seokjin,” you began carefully, and ever so slowly he fluttered his eyelids open. His large eyes glassy. “If you love me, you have to explain everything to me. I’m owed that.”

“I already did,” he croaked.

You pulled back, giving him some room, but also because you were about to ask something that made you grow hot, cheeks blushed. “You…” You shook your head, beginning again. “You have…” However, try as you might, you could not finish, gaze falling down his body instead, hidden by the sheets.

Perhaps he misunderstood your hesitation though, because he sounded forlorn when he replied. “Yes. I do.” How was he supposed to know that your body desired him just as strongly as yesterday? You almost felt ashamed, knowing he was so distressed, but you couldn’t help it. If only he understood… Would it make him feel better?

“I’m not human when it comes to that,” he continued, shaking your hands from his face. His hand fell to the mattress, too shamed to touch you.

“I don’t care,” you pleaded, clutching a hold of his shirt instead. You had gotten so passionate you were now kneeled over his body, begging him to listen to you. “Seokjin, I still want to be with you. I love you. I don’t give a damn.” You were shaking him, forgetting to keep your voice down.

He firmly circled your wrists with his fingers, stilling you, and your voice broke off with a cry, scared and panicked. You couldn’t lose him. Not after everything you’d been through in your life. He was your one happiness. Your light in the once never-ending darkness.

“My parents were so happy when I told them about us,” he began almost wistfully. His voice was so gentle it caught you off guard, and you relaxed your body, feeling him entwine his fingers with yours. “To finally see their son so joyous and in love…” Your chest swelled, wanting to hold him some more, but then his expression fell. “But they also know the truth. They’re the only ones who do. Imagine birthing a child to be met with such horror.”

“Shush,” you quickly rushed, letting go of his hands to grip his face. “Don’t say such things.” How could he think himself a monster when he was the most gentle, loving man around? Could he not see the real him? Could he not look in a mirror and see the truth? He was blinded by his disgust for himself. It had tainted his life since he was old enough to understand.

“They’re nervous of it ending. Just like I am.” He continued, barely there, hushed under his breath. The word endscared you beyond belief, only dispelling when you felt his large hands grip around yours, holding you to him tightly. “But I don’t want to let you go.” He sounded desperate, broken. Almost like he was begging. It cut at your heart. “I love you too much.”

“Then don’t!” Your faces were so close by now, noses crushed up against one another as you pleaded. Both teary eyed, both so hopelessly in love with one another. “You don’t have to. I won’tlet you.”

“How can I ever love you properly?” He cried out, voice breaking as he tried to keep quiet. “Satisfyyou?” He sounded tormented. Like this was all he’d been thinking about. You felt a flood of guilt wash over you. All this time, ever kiss and touch you secretly shared together. While you craved and hinted for more, he was tortured, under the impression you would never love him the same again if you knew the truth. For months he hid, thinking he couldn’t give you what you wanted. No matter how much he wanted it too.

None of that mattered now. You needed him to know that wasn’t important. What wasimportant was your love for him, and his love for you. “You already love me as best as humanly possible, because that is what you are.” You pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes. “Human.” Not a monster. “This heart that beats,” you signalled, reaching one hand between your bodies and covering his chest. The muscle beat under your palm hard. “It’s all human.”

He let out a tiny sigh, almost like he’d been holding his breath. Your words sent a relief through him, and one of his hands laced through your hair at the back of your head, holding you close. Your breaths mingled with one another. You slightly out of breath, desperate to make him see, and his shallow, listening as you continued.

“You just have the blessing of Helios inside you. It shines bright, and I couldn’t think of a better man for the job.” He let you pull back to look him in the eyes. This time he didn’t look away. He shone right now, you swore it. He was of the sun. A gift. Your gift.

“Seokjin,” you murmured, unable to stay away from his mouth a moment longer. “I love you.” His lips were warm and soft. The instant comfort that you’d longed for all day. He felt like home. You’d never had one of those until you met him. You pulled back slowly, mouth parting to tell him one last importance. “I love you no matter what you hide, and I am so lucky to have met you.”

He made a noise as he reached for your mouth hastily; one of relief and happiness. It rumbled as his lips touched yours and you whimpered, because it seemed like you’d finally gotten through to him. This time he kissed you without hesitation, without something to say, and you felt the difference instantly. His tongue eagerly swiped across your bottom lip, delicate but restless, and you parted instantly, your muscles meeting, caressing one another.

He clutched your cheek tighter, rising his head before he began to sit up. “I love you too,” he rushed, and before you could take another breath, you were pushed on your back, his large body twisting to crawl over yours. His legs kicked the sheets away, crumpled to the bottom of the mattress, and the bed frame groaned under the sudden movement, but Seokjin was too distracted to notice. He cupped your face with both hands now, words pressed tight against your lips. “So, so much.” You were too breathless to reply.

After he was done chasing your mouth, he found your jaw, kissing hot trails towards the sensitive flesh of your neck. This was a new feeling altogether, your skin erupting with goosebumps, each breath turning into little shallow gasps. When his hands began to caress your sides, you felt as if your heart was beating outside of your body. It drummed manically, alive only to the sensation of his touch. How long had your body craved for this? Imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on you like this? Even his touch above the material of your bodice was enough to suffice. You felt him everywhere, his palms burning their way to the skin. A moan slipped from his lips when he found the swell of your breasts, kissing them like he had been kissing your mouth for months. His tongue slipped between your cleavage, your eyes closing, basking silently in the pleasure until you felt his palms cupping the soft flesh and they flew open again.

“Seokjin,” you breathed, hands running along his large shoulders. He kissed up your chest, peppering your throat in kisses until he found your lips again. He was out of breath, moving without direction, like he couldn’t stay still for long enough to think clearly. His thumbs found where your nipples were, hidden beneath the cotton and they hardened under the pads magically. You were beginning to get aroused, much more aroused than you’d ever been before. It coloured your cheeks. They felt hot. Like they were burning.

“You’re so beautiful,” he got out. Voice an octave lower, gruff. It shot up your legs, finding home beneath your nightgown. “I want to kiss every inch of you. I want to see how beautiful you are bare. I want to hold you. Touch you. Feel you.”

You felt like you were drowning. Either that or going crazy. You were beside yourself, squirming underneath him, his body heat seeping into yours, causing your head to go giddy. If you died right now, you’d go happy. You would want to see the whole thing out, of course, but with how fast the blood was coursing through your body right now, who knew if you’d blow up…

Beside himself also, you felt his hands reach under your nightgown, gripping the underside of your thighs. His palms were clammy and hot, and the contact made you jerk into him; new and exciting. He didn’t stay there for long though, a strangled noise leaving him as he fumbled over your body, unable to keep still for his greed took over.

“I cannot hold back any longer,” he admitted almost embarrassingly, fingers playing with the lace of your bodice. They shook and you clasped them in your own.

“Then don’t.” You whispered.

Your gaze was unwavering, speaking unsaid words, expressing your desire, and a moment later he was hastily unlacing you. Your lips met in a frenzy, your fingers helping his as he freed your chest from its confines. When he felt your soft breasts against his hands he had to pull away, jaw slack, eyes unblinking as he drunk the image up. You kissed at his nose, his cheeks, his open mouth, giggling quietly at his reaction.

“Can I kiss them?” He requested, all but a breath, and you nodded quickly, bracing yourself, but never ready for when his tongue delicately brushed against your left nipple. You arched your back, chasing the feeling, wanting more, and he engulfed the flushed peak between his lips, caressing it with the tip of his tongue. The stimulation was making your toes curl, his sheet sliding off the bed as you jerked your leg and moaned sweetly. He liked that, working wider strokes of his tongue until he was kissing your breast like he would your mouth. His right hand reached for your forgotten breast, kneading the flesh, his thumb circling the hard bud. There was the most scorching burn between your legs, and Seokjin’s weight against your body did nothing for it. It just made it blaze harder.

“Is this alright?” He asked, pulling away slowly, mouth all sticky, lips shining in the muted glow of the oil lamp. He looked golden in this light, the shadow of the flames flickering across his face as he kneeled straight, hands cupping your sides tightly, as if he needed to anchor himself down.

You wondered if you looked as beautiful as he did? He was looking at you as if you did. You wanted to look even more bewitching… Nodding your reply you carefully began to rise. Seokjin had no other choice but to move back, letting you sit on your knees. He watched in silence as you took the hem of your nightgown in your hands, eyes wide and mesmerised when you began to lift it up, shimmying it over your hips and up your torso. It freed from your shoulders easily, and there was a moment of darkness as it covered your face, and then it was gone, dropped to floor, in which you hoped was seductively.

You both kneeled before one another, you bare, except for the cotton underwear that hid your innocence. It throbbed so hard you were shocked Seokjin couldn’t notice, but he was too distracted, drinking in the sight before him like you were a painting. Your eyes met, and and you felt no shame, only love. So much love it overwhelmed you, gripped at your lungs, squeezed at your heart. You were moaning in relief when his mouth flew at yours, clutching him tight around the neck as your bodies pressed against one another.

He moaned too. It didn’t sound real, but such a beautiful sound could only come from such a beautiful young man, so it was yours to hear, and yours only. When you finally drew apart, he clutched your jaw, mouth open, breath heavy, eyes unfocused and blown out. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He told you, shaking his head a little to correct himself. “Willever lay eyes on.” His gaze travelled down between your bodies, a sweet sigh leaving him. “There is so much I want to do to you…”

Something in your abdomen began to flip around, his words affecting your body until you were trembling something chronic. However, there was something else that needed to be done before you could even think about being so selfish. You brought one of your hands over his shoulder, running it down his chest until you stopped at the centre, gripping the cloth in your fist. “Please undress too.”

He looked at you quietly at first, as if he was contemplating it. You didn’t want to rush him at all, nor force him into a situation he felt uncomfortable with, but he seemed just as desperate as you, and after all, there was so much youwanted to do to him too… With a resolute nod he let go of your face, placing one sweet, lingering kiss on your mouth with a smile before he moved to slip his nightshirt off. You had never had the pleasure of seeing Seokjin shirtless. Although this summer had been incredibly hot, he was considerably modest—which made perfect sense now—and he’d rather swelter in the heat than cool down with one easy motion. It was all worth the wait now.

Seokjin was built so large, that had been one of the first thing you’d noticed when you’d initially met him, but his bare torso was a sight to behold. His skin almost glistened in the flamed light, and he looked so divine you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and caressing him. He was hard too, chest firm beneath your palm as you dragged one across slowly. The other ran along his shoulder, gently massaging the muscle. Your mouths met again, you just couldn’t get enough. It felt like you were only breathing properly when you kissed one another. He wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you close, your bare chests pressed against one another. His skin was boiling. You found yourself on your back again, head cushioned by his pillow, hair pushed out like a halo. He pulled back on his heels, taking the opportunity to stare down at your naked body laid out on his bed. You ran your fingers down his stomach, stopping at the waistband of his breeches.

“More,” you whispered, begging him with your eyes. You felt his body freeze up. “Please.”  You added. You wanted terribly to show him how perfect he was. “I want to see. There is nothing in this world that could make my love go away.”

That seemed to comfort him, and even though there was still fear in his eyes, his hands moved to the buttons along his crotch. “Promise?” He asked, voice small.

You nodded firmly. “I swear on my life.”

That was all he needed, and you watched with bated breath and a drumming heart as he began to unfasten his trunks. He believed you. He trusted you. You were overwhelmed with love again, struggling with how to express it all at once. You would spend your whole life doing so, you were sure of it.

You kept silent as he stepped out of the garment, even when you grew surprised at the bounds of woven gauze wrapped around his groin. You had not been expecting the great lengths he had to take in order to keep it concealed. Whether he needed to, or whether it was because he couldn’t bear to look at it himself… You hated to think it was the latter.  

“I…” He trailed off, fingers visibly shaking as he found the end of the cotton, fiddling with it as it loosened. “I have to hide it well.”

He sounded embarrassed and you hated it, sitting up to console him.  “It’s okay,” you murmured, catching his fingers with yours. You held on for a while, looking up at him with a small smile, waiting for him to return it. When he did timidly, your heart swelled. “I love you, Seokjin. So much.”

He nodded his head, perhaps to give himself confidence, because he soon dropped your hand to your side, busying himself with the gauze again and ever so slowly he began to unbind himself. With each layer that fell you could make out the obvious bulge that laid in the middle. You were not so innocent. His arousal was a lot harder to hide than yours…

“Is it not painful wrapped so tight?” You couldn’t help but ask, worry colouring your tone.

“A little,” he admitted bashfully.

As he got closer your mouth parted in awe. There were small golden scales that trailed up the right side of his groin, along his hip and upwards, trailing off as they hit his stomach. These didglisten in the light, and you just had to touch them, following the scatter with the tip of your fingers. Seokjin’s breath hitched, stilling momentarily to look down at you. “They’re beautiful,” you said, voice hushed.

He smiled gently at you. The fear was still in his eyes, but so was a warmth. He knew you loved him unconditionally, and despite his reservations, he carried on, unwrapping the last of the woven fabric before he dropped it to the mattress.

“Oh.” You let out, blinking a few times at the sight before you.

He took your silence as a fear for the worst, panicking as he pulled back from you, your hand on his hip falling to your side. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—

“You’re beautiful,” you interrupted him, reaching for both his hips this time as you held him still. You should have said something immediately, but you were speechless. Astounded by the beauty. He let you study him, but kept his eyes trained to the wall in front of him. You could hear his heart pounding from here. You didn’t want him to feel ashamed.

“Gold,” you breathed. For reasons unknown, you had not been expecting such a sight. Yes, he had told you he was cursed but really speaking, you had no clue how. You could never have fathomed this. It was golden, just as you saw him. He really was the sun, and there was nothing hideous about him. He was beautiful.

It stood from his body, distended from arousal and its entrapment. Tip pointed and a slit that seemed to be leaking some type of clear substance that made it shimmer even more. The length was a little intimidating, but that may have been down to your inexperience. Smooth and curved, three ridges followed the tip until a larger one hit the base, bulbous and veiny. Under his member sat his scrotum, equally as golden. The scales that speckled his hip started at the groin, no faint hair in sight, but they also travelled down his left leg, at the inside of his thigh, stopping midway.

You had never seen another manhood, so logically speaking, this was no matter. You had nothing to compare it to. You would now neverwant to compare something so breathtakingly beautiful. The sight had you in awe, but he didn’t seem to notice, squirming in your grip. Trying to get free, trying to hide.

“Seokjin, look at me,” you implored, reaching for his waist as you knelt too, desperate to get as near eye level as you could. You clung to his face, kissing his mouth, but his arms lie limp at his sides. “Seokjin…” You started, taking his hands to drag him down over your body.

“Come here.” He complied, body almost sagging, and once he’d lowered enough you flipped him, straddling his chest. You found his face again, kissing his mouth open, desperately, your breathing getting louder.

“You’re beautiful. Perfect.Please don’t be ashamed.” You pleaded. He didn’t say anything in reply, but you felt his hands behind your thighs, holding you in place. His tongue peeked out of his mouth, delicately laving yours with each caress of your mouth. You pulled back to catch a look of his face, and you were pleased to see his gaze was on yours now.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “For everything.”

“You never have to hide with me,” you smiled back, lowering your body to his thighs. As you did so, your hand accidently brushed against his member. It was the lightest of touches, but his bottom half jerked upwards, a strangled cry leaving him.

You froze, eyes wide. You wondered if you should apologise, confused by his reaction. Confused altogether. Your stomach lurched as you thought back. He had felt so smooth, like marble, but soft, and so warm. Bravely, you ran your hand over his length again, with purpose this time, watching his face for reactions. His plush lips parted, swollen and pink from your stolen kisses, and a beautiful sigh left him. It sounded like your name. It wasyour name.

“Does that feel good?” You questioned, voice high-pitched with excitement. You didn’t give him time to reply, wrapping your fist around the thickest part of the shaft—the part you guessed had most the feeling. He jerked forward again. You could feel him pulse against your palm. “I want to make you feel good,” you murmured determinedly.

He moaned in response, too overcome for words at that precise moment. All he seemed to do was rock his hips into your hold, almost as if he was trying to create friction. You acted on the spot, sliding your fist up the ridged flesh. He let out a sigh of relief, and you moved back, repeating the action slowly.  

“Yes, it feels so good.” He finally replied, voice strained. “It feels more than good.” This time a small chuckle fell from his lips. It was music to your ears. “I’ve never…” He stopped to swallow, and you crouched lower over his body, blood rising to the surface of your skin when you felt his hands slide up your buttocks, shaping the flesh in his palms gently. Everything about him was gentle, and it only made you love him more.

He tried again. “I’ve never done this… felt this…” You could tell he was feeling bashful at his confession, so you shushed him with your mouth, kissing him sweetly, lovingly. It made you sad to know he had hidden from his body—from who he was—for so long. Sad to know he was that disgusted with himself… How tortured he must have felt every time you kissed him so brazenly… Bound like he had been, fit to burst. How much willpower did one man have?

“Let me do anything you want,” you whispered. You wanted to make him feel the divine like pleasure an orgasm brought. “Faster?” You prompted, beginning to rake your palm a lot quicker. He moaned in response, head pushing back into the pillow, his thick neck on show. His fingers dug into your buttocks now. It helped with the ache between your legs.

You were getting greedy, chasing his reactions. His cheeks flushed, just like the rest of him; patches of red scattering his neck and chest. It was odd to see him so rosy when he was always so golden. The only thing that was gold now, was his throbbing member in your hand. The crests ran along your palm as you moved, and bravely you curled your thumb over the slit of the tip, dampening the pad with the clear substance that continued to leak from it. He jerked his hips once more, a groan leaving him. It didn’t sound human. You repeated. Every time your fist hit the head you circled what you now understood as the most sensitive part of him.

You knew he couldn’t take anymore when one of his hands gripped around your wrist, panicking, blurting your name to get you to stop. However, you didn’t. This sensation was new to him, overwhelming. He had no idea what was happening, probably scared, but you knew. You knewhe was close. His stomach clenched as he writhed around. It only took two more runs of your palm, and then he was stilling, a quiet, drawn out moan leaving his throat.

His length convulsed, and you looked down in time to see the spurts of white stain his abdomen, rising up and down with his pants. It speckled across his golden scales, painted him even more beautiful. You let go of him immediately, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Oh, oh.” He was still out of breath, trembling as he wrapped his arms around your body, kissing you messily. “I love you.” His chest heaved, and he sounded drunk. You couldn’t help but giggle as you pulled away to peek at him. He looked sinful, spread naked in front of your feasting eyes, not a care in the world now that a part of his soul had left his body, manhood growing slightly limp against his stained stomach.

“We need something to clean you up with,” you continued to giggle, aware your cheeks were practically burning, unable to stop soaking in the view.

“Use my shirt,” he muttered, dazed.

“Your shirt?” You exclaimed, putting a hand to your mouth when you realised how loud you’d been. You both needed to remember you weren’t alone in this house. You couldn’t get found out.

“Mhm.” He confirmed. “I’ll wash it in the lake tomorrow.”

You laughed again in disbelief, but obeyed, finding the garment in a heap at the end of the bed. You straddled him again, sopping up the arousal on his body. He helped you, capturing your lips with his in the process and soon enough you were distracted. You felt him drop the shirt to the floor as his tongue delicately opened your mouth, arms winding around your waist.

“Do you want to stop?” You wondered out loud, breathless and trembling. Your body longed for some relief, but you did not want to be unfair. He could be near exhaustion now.

“No,” he exclaimed, coughing to clear his throat. “Not at all.” He gripped your hips as you sat on his stomach, a light shining in his eyes. He was almost like an excited puppy. “I want this night to last forever.”

You smiled at that, touched by his words and wholeheartedly agreeing. Ever so lightly, you felt his fingers trace the waistband of your underwear, lids turning heavy as he cast his gaze upwards to your face. His voice was low when he spoke again. A request. “Please let me see you.”

In all honesty, you had forgotten you were still clothed where your need burned the hardest, and you moved quickly, kneeling higher to drag the cotton down each leg until you were just as bare as him. You looked down at him with heavy eyes, slightly shy, but only because he was studying you with such intensity.

He traced your hip bone with his finger, voice but a breath. “You are stunning, my love.” My love. His love. That was correct. You were his and he was yours. You leaned over his torso, needing to kiss him again, to feel his warmth. He cupped your face, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“All my wildest dreams don’t even…” He trailed off when your lips met, kissing you slowly. You moved closer, between your legs brushing against the smooth, gold beauty that laid between his. You couldn’t help the groan that fell from you both. Pleasure burst from every nerve in your body.

“Does that feel good?” Seokjin wondered, pulling back to cup both flushed cheeks now.

“Y-yes,” you sighed, moving your hips again. He kissed your nose as you moaned, his breathing becoming shallow again. He grew harder again as you slid over each crest, growing hotter, more sensitive, until he was surely ready for more. Your arousal felt heavy between your legs, sticking to him, greedy for his touch.

“Seokjin… I want you,” you uttered, mouth parted in pants. You clung on to his chest. “I needyou.”

“Please.” He agreed.

You lifted on your knees again, hand shaking as you gripped his member. You were nervous, but your body was acting on its own accord. Instinct.You hovered above the tip, letting him settle against your opening. “A-are you sure?” He asked, worried, holding your hips. You were aroused greatly but pushing down on him was intimidating. You struggled, feeling a little foolish.

You silently give up, needing a moment. Your heart was beating so fast. Moving back to crouch down, you dropped his length to kiss your way across his hip, catching the golden scales with each peck. You took deep breaths, calming yourself.

“Let me…Let me help you,” he suggested, curling his hands around your waist to flip your back to the mattress. “Come here,” he whispered, bending over your bottom half. “I want to touch you…feel you…kiss you…”

When two of his fingers brushed carefully over your folds, you felt a flutter travel up your stomach and a pulse down below. You bucked into him, overcome by not only his words, but his actions. He repeated, spreading your left leg by the inside of your thigh to gaze upon you even more.

“Seokjin,” you breathed, staring down at him.

“You’re beautiful.” He praised. “Can I kiss you?”

He was not talking about your lips. Or maybe he was…just a different kind. You nodded quickly, afraid to even breathe as you watched him descend. His tongue was delicate, laving against the soft flesh hesitantly. This was all new to him, but you could tell he was desperate to make you feel good. His eyes closed tight, face burying between your legs as the tip of his tongue dug between your folds, catching on a spot that had you moaning sweetly, spreading your legs shamelessly. He froze, experimentally repeating the curl of his tongue. It had the same effect, an arm reaching out to entangle your fingers in his locks. He moaned against you, sending a rumble up your pelvis.

You had explored your own body before. Most of the time after Seokjin had left you in a hot and bothered state, cheeks red, out of breath, thighs trembling, but it did not feel anything like this. His sweet tongue was a divine state of being, coaxing your tense, nervous body, and with a few more laps of his wet muscle, your moans grew more persistent. You remembered to keep the volume down, but it was impossible to stay silent altogether. Seokjin worked you until you were trembling underneath him, squirming in his hold, a pleasure settling deep inside the pit of your stomach and staying there, glowing.

He pulled away when he realised you were growing sensitive, lips shimmering with your arousal. He looked absolutely stunning. “You sound so… It is driving me crazy.” He laughed with a trembling voice.

Sated, but still greedy, you smiled at him, breasts heaving slightly with your chest, and you ran your hand down your stomach, hooking your finger under Seokjin’s chin. “Do you think I’m ready…?”

“We can try…” He murmured. “Should I see…?” He trailed off, one of his fingers circling your entrance carefully. You could hear yourself, sticky as you coated the pad, and you fidgeted, wanting more. On cue, he slipped the digit inside you. Your velvet walls squeezed around the intrusion, but it was in a desperate need, locking him in placed. He explored you a little, dragging and rubbing inside you, trying to stretch you for what was to come.

“You feel so soft.” He told you, reluctantly pulling out. “Do you want to try, my love?” You nodded almost feverishly, gripping onto his shoulders as he crawled over your body. You spread your legs, letting him nestle inside them as he kissed your forehead and down your nose.

When he reached your mouth, he stopped to pull away. “Are you sure? Tell me right now if not.” He rubbed your nose with his lovingly. “We can stop… I know… I know this isn’t what you were expecting…”

You clutched his face in your hands. “It is better.” You promised. “Better than what I could have ever imagined.” Tonight was perfect. You were so lucky, and so happy. “I want you so much.” You whispered, mouth tugging at his bottom lip. You rolled your hips upward, brushing against his length. “So much it hurts.” His breath caught, surprised by your brazen words. “Please…”

“When you beg like that it is impossible to even think of saying no,” he chuckled under his breath, voice strained as he held himself up by the palms of his hands.

You dragged your tongue along his, too far gone. You were speaking without thinking, so needy for his love. “Want to feel you inside me.”

He shook, voice just the same as he whispered in your ear. “Sinful.”

“Love cannot be sin,” you shook your head, and he pulled back to watch you with a small smile.

“You are right.” He agreed, caressing your cheek before he glided the hand down your body; down your cleavage, to your navel, goosebumps erupting all over you. You heard him grip his member in his fist, rubbing it ever so carefully up and down your swollen folds. “I want to be one with you.” He confessed sweetly, and you braced yourself, blood rushing in your eardrums.

“Alright?” He murmured. Reassurance as he found your entrance and began to push inside. You nodded your head, strands of his hair that dangled down tickling your forehead. “Slowly…” He followed his own advice, opening you up bit by bit, until he stopped at the first ridge.

Like this you felt no pain, and you gripped his hips. “Keep going.” You whispered, watching his face almost mesmerised. The veins in his neck bulged, visibly holding his breath as he struggled with his pacing. You could tell the sensation was overwhelming for him, his eyes glassy. As your flesh stretched over the first golden crest, you felt the burn, instantly fuller, and you dug your nails into his skin, overcome. It happened two more times, popping over the final ridges until he hit the bulge at the base, your vagina unable to strain that much right now. You both gasped upon the sensation, mouths open, eyes wide as you stared at one another in disbelief.

“Can we stay like this for a little while?” You asked, slightly panting for breath as you kept painfully still. There was not so much pain, just a dull burning as your skin tightened around him. He nodded his head, speechless himself, and reached for your mouth, kissing you as best he could. His arms trembled and he moved to rest on his elbows, caressing your face with his fingers.

“I love you,” he told you through sweet sighs, careful to hold his body weight up, not to crush you or add excess pressure between your bodies.

“I love you too.” So much. It felt like you were floating this time. Staying afloat because you had Seokjin. You had his love. You were one. Connected like no other way, and you wanted to stay like this forever. Safe in his embrace.

“You feel so soft,” he choked, unable to keep still a moment longer as his knees buckled. He pulled back, and you couldn’t help but moan out, pleasure hurtling through your body.  

“Yes, do that again,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck now, holding him close. He moved forward, repeating his action until he was shallowly thrusting into your warmth. “Seokjin…” You breathed, fluttering your eyes closed.

“You feel so good. So warm. My head may explode,” he whimpered, driving a little faster in to you, and that’s when you felt it, the stretch as his bulge steadily pushed inside you. You were now more aroused than ever, and greedily, you took him all.

Seokjin’s hips stuttered, head flying back as he buried deep inside your velvet walls, but you rutted upwards, desperately trying to keep him moving. It felt so good, and you wanted to feel the drag of all his crests as he thrust inside you. The bed frame creaked again as he laid over your body, the warmth encasing you, and you clung to him tightly, moaning loudly.

“Shush,” he strained, because it seemed he wanted nothing more than to join you. “We mustn’t wake my parents up.”

You agreed, from then on trying your best to stay silent. You’d gnaw at your bottom lip if needed. He buried his face in your neck as he continued to furiously make love to you, both of your bodies glistening with sweat, sliding against one another. Breathing laboured, the occasional groan, and the sounds of your arousal as he slid in and out of you filled his bedroom. It was a masterpiece. Beautiful.

Your right hand found his hip, tracing the patterns his scales made. You would never get enough of touching him. He pulled his head back, watching you with unfocused eyes. “S-seok…” You trailed off, unable to continue, panting loudly. You wanted to tell him he was gorgeous. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead, the sheen of sweat on his face twinkling in the flamed light, his brows furrowed as his thrusts grew weaker, sloppier. Your heart swelled inside your chest. Filled with so much love you didn’t know what to do.

“I’m going…” He tried, shaking his head. “Again—!” You knew what was coming, the tell-tale signs right there, but this time as he orgasmed, he captured your lips in his, sheathing his gold as deep as it would get, filling you with the hot warmth you knew from earlier.

He stayed like, buried inside your warmth, growing partly limp as you both caught your breath like you’d been drowning moments earlier. You wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him tightly, inhaling his scent, melting into his skin.

You found one another’s mouths again, his hands cupping your jaw as he kissed you hard. This time was different though, there was no urge behind it, no desperation, just a need that lived inside him. A need to show you how much he loved you. Pulling away with a gasp, he clutched your face harder. “I love you—I love you. So—much.” Another kiss to your mouth. He didn’t give you time to reciprocate.

“I want you forever.” He gushed. “Marry me.” More kisses, but this time you were too stunned to even try and kiss back. He broke apart, murmuring softly now. “Marry me…”

“Are you sure?” You found your voice. Quiet and full of disbelief. This was your wildest dream. Marrying Seokjin. Your happy ending. Something that seemed impossible before finding yourself in Helios. Impossible until you met the love of your life…

“I’ve never been surer of anything, my love. I will love you for my entire life.” He professed, and you giggled, happiness swelling inside your chest. You kissed him like your life depended on it, until he was desperate to know the answer. “Yes?” He gasped, breaking apart.

“Of course it’s a yes,” you nodded wildly, running your fingers through his hair, before pressing his forehead against yours. He grinned harder than you’d ever seen.

“I love you, Seokjin. Forever.” 

[goodnightkisseu]

byun baekhyun _ forgotten but not forever

Drabble: Baekhyun, Angst/Fluff, College, “who are you? who are they? who am I?”

anonny “ Hi! Can I have genre 1 & 2 sentence 94 au 2 with baekhyun pls ~~ ”

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 1657

Note: This idea kind of took a life of its own. I wanted to explore something a bit different for this drabble, and admittedly... it became a bit longer than my usual drabbles. I think it’s an interesting idea of getting to know someone again, so I hope that you’ll give it a read! As always, feel free to let me know what you think ^^

Enjoy~

Also, because of the situation with tumblr links, please check my bio for links to my masterlist~

Drabble requests are open! You can also find the link to the drabble prompts in my bio ^^

- ashley <3

Life often wasn't fair, and Baekhyun was aware of that. He knew that it could be hard, whether by choice or by uncontrollable circumstances. Yet, even though he knew this in his heart, he never thought life would affect you in such a way.

You had been dating for about a year now, after meeting in your intro drama course two years ago. Things had been going well... until one morning. Baekhyun awoke to a scream, and instantly he bolted down the stairs, wondering who was causing such a commotion so early in the morning. In the area between the living room and the shared kitchen, he found his roommates standing in a large circle around you. They seemed to be keeping their distance as your eyes, filled with terror, scanned the room of concerned faces.

Given your actions, Baekhyun figured that you were rehearsing for your new role. He was about to jump in there and recite his own lines when Chanyeol stopped him in his tracks. The taller male gave him a look of concern, and when Kyungsoo walked over carrying a similar expression, Baekhyun knew that something was wrong. Tentatively, and now more aware, Baekhyun tried to approach you, but you wouldn't allow him to get within an arm's length of you. With fear evident in your eyes, you kept moving away, until it became apparent that you were aware of the situation you were in and allowed him to draw closer.

"Who are you? Who are they? Who am I?" The words shakingly rolled from your lips as Baekhyun pulled you into his warm embrace.

Once you had calmed down, he drove you to the hospital. Though he had hoped they would have some sort of explanation as to what happened to you, there was none. What they did conclude was that you were suffering from memory loss, but for such a thing to occur at such a young age was rare. They asked Baekhyun to contact your family, and he did as he was told.

The months following your diagnosis were tough. Your family took you home, wanting to make sure that you had time to heal. Not knowing the extent of your memory loss or what could be a stressor for you, the subsequently also pulled you out of your current semester at the university. Your sudden departure had the student body whispering for answers, coming to their own conclusions. People started to pester Baekhyun about it as well. At first, he had kept his responses vague, but as people developed their own stories, he found himself spending time refuting their claims. College used to be so simple, and now... it was stressful.

Even with the things that people were saying about him, Baekhyun still went to visit you whenever he had time. Initially, it had hurt only hurt a bit that you couldn't recognize him. He tried to be understanding about your situation and remain positive that it could change. Yet, every time he left you, his heart hurt more than it did before. It became more apparent to him that you were unlikely to remember your life together. He'd often ask you about things, from when you were together, and you would usually just give him an apologetic look. Baekhyun knew it wasn't your fault, but it hurt him. He felt like the two of you just didn't have anything in common anymore. Whenever you looked at him now, your eyes were devoid of that love that was there before. He wanted you to remember, but he knew it was almost impossible.

The stress of it all overtook him. He hadn't signed up to live his day to day like this. He wanted to be happy... and the truth was that he wasn't. He was in so much pain, and he grew a bit resentful of you. So, he stopped by less and less. On days that he did stop by, the visits would be short. He wouldn't pay the same attention to you that he had before, and that became evident. You were the first to bring it up.

"You don't stop by as much as you used to..." you said gently.

Your words caught him by surprise, and for the first time, he felt like he was scrambling for an answer. Often when you were together, you would let Baekhyun initiate the conversations. The few times that you did speak, his responses were lifeless. Lately, it would often result in the two of you sitting in silence during his obligatory visits. Now he was being asked an actual question, and he didn't know how to answer it.

"O-oh... I... I've just been a bit busy..." Baekhyun replied slowly, trying to brush it off. For the first time in days, he finally looked at you. And that was when he saw the saddest smile cross your lips. To say that he had been somewhat numb whenever he visited would have been an understatement. Yet that smile... it gripped his heart.

"You don't have to lie to me, Baekhyun. I know that coming here is painful for you. I noticed that you don't seem nearly as happy or enthusiastic as you were before. I used to be your girlfriend, but I can't remember a thing about you. I don't remember us. And that must be so painful for you to see," you said slowly, gently biting on your lower lip before continuing. "Baekhyun... if it hurts too much, you don't have to keep doing it. I'm sure that the girl you loved will understand. I'm sure she would want you to be happy too..."

Though they were the words that Baekhyun thought he wanted to hear, they stuck with him over the following days. They made him feel strange. Part of him was happy. He wanted to move on, and he was elated that you were giving him your blessing. But deep down, there was a part of him that still cared for you, and those words leaving your lips, even if you weren't who you used to be, felt like a dagger piercing his heart. It didn't feel right to leave you, even if you weren't the same person. It didn't sit right with him.

So, after a handful of sleepless, mulling of your words, he made his decision. Baekhyun wanted to try again. He wanted to be with you, even if it meant that he had to start over with you. You might have been a different person, you might not have remembered a single thing about him, but you were still you. So, instead of cutting his visits short, he came by more often. He told you about wanting to start over, of being a friend to you, and he asked if that was okay with you. Though you spoke of how you didn't want to hold him back, he reassured you that it wasn't the case. And so, you started over.

Baekhyun got to know you from scratch. He answered questions about the things you had grown curious about in your life before the incident. When you were feeling better, he began to take you out on little outings, hoping that being out of the house would help you to heal. Over time, that new relationship formed. And truthfully, getting to know you again, it wasn't so bad. Some things were different, of course, but it felt right.

That afternoon, after his classes, Baekhyun took you to a local cafe. You sat across from each other, sipping on your drinks when you slid your phone over to him. On it was a picture of you and Baekhyun. He had his arm around your shoulder, lips to your cheek, the pair of you still in full stage costumes. "This was our first official performance together, right?"

Baekhyun took a look at the picture, and then up at you, his eyes rapidly blinking in shock and confusion. Due to your curiosity about your life with him before, he had told you little things here and there. He tried not to say too much, a warning from the doctors that it could cause more emotional stress. But this picture... he had never shown it to you before. "Y-yeah, but how did you know? Did Kyungsoo tell you?"

You shook your head. "I... I've started to remember little things. They're like really quick snapshots. I don't remember what goes around them, but I remember being really happy at this moment. We must have been happy then..."

"It was just after your birthday," he told you with a small smile, knowing that it was your way now of asking him to tell you more. "The two of us were so nervous about this play, that we couldn't even think about going out and having a good time. We promised each other that if the play went well, we would have a massive celebration afterward. Unsurprisingly, with the two of us playing the lead, it was extremely successful, and we were both so happy with the outcome. This was taken after we got off stage, and before we went to celebrate."

"We had a lot of fun together, didn't we..."

"You were... you were my ray of sunshine," he replied with a gentle smile.

"And now you're mine," you said, watching as Baekhyun's eyes widened. "This probably doesn't mean much to you, but being around you... has been making things easier for me. I don't remember a thing from my past, but having you around... makes me feel normal? It makes me feel like I can start over even if I don't know how. I just wanted you to know that..."

Baekhyun beamed at your confession. Gingerly, he held your hand in his, a silent promise that he wasn't going anywhere. This wasn't the same relationship, but the two of you could build something even better together. He just knew it...

[champofpallet]

There were some rumors around Alola as Red was getting some decorations put up around his work area at the Battle Tree. The same sorts of rumors you would hear at a shopping mall when a bunch of teenagers start gossiping, or when you read some urban legends on the internet. The talk of the Battle Tree today was about this mansion that had just set up around the abandoned shopping mart. Now mansions don’t just fall from the sky, of course they couldn’t that’s impossible, but from the way they were talking it seemed more and more like that was the case. 

Red’s body shivered and shook though it was hard to tell if it was from excitement or pure terror. Probably both knowing how terrified of ghosts and how naturally curious he is. Almost causing a scene by nearly falling off the ladder he was perched on, he successfully added the orange and black pumpkin lights to the tree’s branches and hopped off with a grin. What on earth was he planning? Surely he wasn’t going to check this place out by himself, right? No you were never by yourself as long as you had Pokemon.

Today wasn’t a busy day at work anyway, and Blue wouldn’t mind filling in for him one more time right? Actually he should make it up to him for all this time he’s saved his butt. Perhaps he’ll catch a really cool Pokemon and give it to him. Yeah! That ought to be worth being forgiven.

He passed the abandoned Mega Mart and makes a sharp turn forwards towards the back of it. For some reason the place got all cloudy and hard to breathe. Red coughs as he made his way forwards, placing a hand over his mouth to block the thick fog. Scary houses and fog went together like peanut butter and jelly, the perfect combination. Red hated that. That just confirmed that he was right about the house being haunted. He could practically feel the anxiety rise in the pit of his stomach as he made way for the door. What if it turns out like what happened with his cousin where he was turned into a ghost by a prank of some Gengar and Haunter. Oh jeez there went the anxiety again. Why Arceus was he born with such a curious mind? He silently reaches for the door. Locked. Won’t even budge. Well he did all he could do, and he could have sworn he saw a person in a hockey mask and a chainsaw in their hands so he was going to hightail it out of there.

Skreeeech!

Oh good! Out of nowhere the door opened letting him in! How...wonderful. Well there was no stalling now. Red had to make sure everything in there was safe, not just for the humans that might want to visit, but for the Pokemon that might wonder into it. If that abandoned mansion in Cinnabar could have Pokemon wandering in there even when the door was locked, whos to say they won’t wonder in there somehow? With a pitiful sigh, Red continued on his venture through the house.

The scent of rotting mildew hit his nose making him want to gag. Didn’t anyone open a window? The walls were rotting and falling through, but once in it’s youth it must have been really extravagant. A red velvet looking carpet covered the wooden floor. There were some dents through the rug as if to hide a trapdoor. After dealing with Team Rocket so long you learn how to spot traps from a mile away. The walls had pictures of strange men whose eyes followed Red as he went across the floor. Oh Arceus why did he decide to do this? He was distracted by the odd decor when his foot slipped and he fell onto the floor. As his body hit the floor some odd smoke rose up making him go to fight or flight mode. Since there was nothing but odd smoke to fight, Red went with the second best option and hurried up the rickety stairs into the second story. There was also some odd howls coming from this floor so maybe he should get out of here.

“Arceus don’t tell me, I’m about to be spirited away like in those ol’ stories…” Red said silently to himself. Just hearing his own voice comforted him even if it was only a little. And besides, he just has to remember what he told himself before: you’re never alone with Pokemon at your side! His Pokeballs were still in place telling him that they were with him. So he just had to find a way out of here so he can leave and never come here again! But wait! That person who was in the window before looked rather small. Could that have been a child? There went his inner hero instincts again and he reluctantly ran up the stairs trying to get to the last floor. Some things popped out at him, and from what Red could tell they didn’t look like Pokemon, but he had to continue on! Walking up higher and higher until he had reached the top floor. 

“....I can’t believe I’m doing this...but I gotta save that kid!”

Like an episode of a cartoon Red ran through the rooms looking for the child but only to come out with those things popping out at him like one of those story books with the pop-up pictures. He had looked everywhere in the house and now he was starting to feel weakened. Oh Arceus he was going to die here. He was going to die and the ghosts will pick his bones clean. Do ghosts even eat? Wouldn’t it just fall through? Red’s mind wandered off to other things. At least his Pokemon are safe in their Pokeballs with everything they needed to survive. He didn’t want them to suffer like he was right then. Red collapsed to the ground with his eyes closed. There was no way he would be able to save the kid now. There probably wasn’t even a kid there in the first place. Just a trick to get him inside most likely. Ghosts are clever beings. Smoke began to rise again, Red watches uninterested. Huh...even the ceiling was fancy. Full of cobwebs and cracks, but fancy. Even the square door that led up to who knows what was decorated. Wait...the window he saw the child out of was one that was a lot bigger and longer that the normal sized room kinds he saw in the other rooms. Could this be a way out or another trap? Only one way to find out!

Feeling a wave of energy rush into him suddenly, Red bolted himself up and pulled down the secret door letting what looked like a rope ladder fall. He swiftly climbed up the ladder and looked around.

“Kid? You here? Hello?” Red heard a soft step behind him. He turns his head to greet the child only to be met with the loud sound of a chainsaw and someone in a hockey mask staring down at him! Out of shock Red let go of the ladder and screamed as he descended downwards. The ground was so old it just had Red fall right through it all the way to the basement! His body shaking like a leaf and hiding his face, Red tried to apologize and beg the crazy kid to spare his life. “PL-PLEASE SPARE ME! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE! C-C’MON!” His words were half yelling and half sobs, he did not want to die here. The kid jumped down the hole that Red made from his fall, their chainsaw still revving up. Each time Red got more and more close to fainting, but because he thought he had a way out, his body forced himself to stay awake. Darn that inner hero instincts again. The child went closer to Red before pulling off their mask.

“Spare you? Hehehe what did you think I was going to do? Kill you? Don’t be silly!” A girl with purple hair had said as she places the chainsaw down. Red couldn’t believe his eyes. “Acerola!? What are you doing in this place? Didn’t you see the odd smoke? Or the howls? Or anything I just went through!?” Red’s voice was half relieved and half enraged at how nonchalant she was being about this. Red felt like he almost died a few times and he was doing it all to save her! Or...well a kid he thought wandered into the mansion but STILL! “Do you like them?” Acerola asked with a cat-like smile. “I made them myself! Well with cutting them out. Mimikyu did the drawing, she’s good at that.” A shiny Mimikyu with a crayon in her claw waved at them from upon her trainer’s shoulder. “But I think the smoke machine is busted. Your big butt landed on the thing as you fell and it went kablooey! Though maybe you fixed it? It was releasing too much smoke. Maybe the smoke overdid it, but there was too much of the stuff so I put on the first mask I could find. Tried to open the basement door but it was stuck so I had to look in the attic to find the chainsaw. Had no idea why the attic door was closed...must’ve been some pranks from the ghosts.”

Red still looks peeved by the whole situation, his heart still pounding in his chest as his face pouts. “First of all, where did this house come from and why would you use a chainsaw on a door? Is this place even yours? And second of all...what is all this stuff for?”

Acerola grins again and places her hands on her hips. “I wanted to make my own gym! I know that guy with the whole karate suit is the only gym in Alola, but that’s the only one we have! You need eight gyms right? So I’m gonna be Acerola the ghost type gym leader~!” She spins around and does a little pose. Red just stares angrily at her. “Okay fine, I’m sorry you had to go through all that. This house used to be mine before me and my parents moved out. It was getting old and broken down, so instead of destroying it, I tried to turn it into a gym. See? And because of the hole your big butt made, I have a place to install the portals! So I ought to thank you somehow.”

“Did you just call my butt big? Twice?” Red seems to only be paying attention to some things as his mind was still on the whole haunted house situation. Acerola pondered for a second then took out a Z-Crystal. It was as white and smokey as the fog that was everywhere before. She hands it to Red smiling as sweetly as she could. “Here you go! I think you’ve earned your first Alolan gym badge,Trainer!” Well even if he ended up being chased by decorations, running from odd smoke, and falling through the floor five times in one fall, at least he got a Z-Crystal out of it.

[irndad]

cuppa coffee- bucky barnes

title: cuppa coffee

ship: bucky barnes x reader

wc: ~1.6k

a/n: HELLO HELLO here is my lil bucky barnes thing i wrote a few days ago, i hope you guys like it! also there’s a weird amount of angst 

summary: so, bucky may have lost his way around women. he can’t figure out how to tell his friend that he doesn’t like cream in his coffee. it’s whatever, though. it makes her smile.

masterlist

last imagine

feedback!!! pls 

James Buchanan Barnes used to be very good with women. Once upon a time, if you mentioned his name, women would be enthralled with the idea of him being interested in them. But things have changed, he supposes.

A lot has changed. For one, people realize what kind of man he is. He doesn’t think he used to be this kind of monster, but he is now, and that seems to be what people see him as.

Sergeant Barnes is a very different man than the Winter Soldier, he has to remind himself, but no one really sees it that way.

He knows it’s a stroke of insane luck that Steve (more like Rhodey) has convinced him to be part of their little gang of misfits and even luckier that they’ve all sort of seen him as a friend now, which is why he absolutely can’t like her.

Enter her.

A new avenger, with an impossibly hard to explain power, but that’s by far the least interesting thing about her.

God, this girl, she is so beautiful. The first time he met her, she was in pajama pants and a loose t-shirt, her hair tied up in a ponytail and her head tipped back in a laugh at something Tony had said. The thing is, Bucky never was the kind of guy to be enchanted with a girl’s laugh, or smile.

But from the minute he saw her, joyful and light on her feet while cooking eggs and laughing at something he only had to assume to be of the highest caliber to deliver such a lovely sound, he finds himself in a new predicament.

She’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever set eyes on, it kind of steals the breath from his lungs when she smiles at him.

“So, what’ll you have, James?”

He vaguely hears Steve say her name, and focuses more on her smile -is it normal to be this draw to a smile?- and that she makes coffee and tea for the team in the morning, because apparently, it’s a good way to start the day as a team.

He can understand why being around her would be a great way to start his day.

“Uh, it’s Bucky. Not James.” Hates how awkward it sounds, maybe a little mean and that’s the last thing he wants to do with someone like her.

“Oh,” she giggles, and he tries not to think about how lovely it sounds when her pretty laugh was directed at him. “Sorry. I’m still a little new.”

“Me too.” He says quickly, cursing himself for sounding eager again.

“So, Bucky. What’ll you have?”

She’s smiling at him, bright and sweet and he doesn’t think before he says the only thing that’ll come out of his mouth that won’t make him sound stupid.

“I’ll have whatever Steve gets.” She smiles bright at that, and he feels like he’s done something right for once, like however the rest of the day goes he knows it’ll be fine because he’s made the most lovely girl in the world beam at him.

Unfortunately, Steve likes his coffee just about the opposite of how Bucky does. Sweet, full of cream and he supposes it doesn’t really matter, it’s not like he needs to watch his figure.

But her grin, that’s worth it.

A month in, and James Buchanan Barnes is absolutely, unequivocally fucked, and absolutely gone for the newest member of the Avengers.

If he was being quite honest, he was hoping that maybe her looking like some sort of angel was an exception to a rule, and maybe she wouldn’t take his breath away every single morning.

But he was most obviously wrong.

Maybe he’s not objective, but it’s like every day she gets better, grinning while bringing him a drink he doesn’t like, with a girl he has to admit to himself he adores.

This is turning into quite a problem though, because of the obvious reason; he shouldn’t love her.

There’s many reasons he shouldn’t of course. She was the definition of light and grace- sometimes, when she walked in the room, lightened like something was won.

If rubble was a person, it would be Bucky. Bucky is a wreckage of a person held together by strings and bandages he doesn’t even deserve to have. Everything, everything that he has he’s been gifted with, nothing that he deserves.

Her. She’s made of light and hope, and he keeps expecting her to be less amazing to him when she spills some flaw, but over morning coffee and soft-spoken words as the rising sun washes her face in orange and yellow light, he finds nothing not to love.

Deserving is such a difficult word to define, especially in morally grey situation. And Bucky concedes he may not be a villain, but he’s not a hero.

Someone who gets to be with her- they have to be a hero. Someone whose heart is as full and good as hers is.

Doesn’t stop him from wanting her, though.

She shows up that morning. bright smile and sitting next to him on the couch, their thighs touching due to her closeness.

He tries not to feel anything about it.

“Hey handsome,” she winks at him, her voice joking and warm but still making his heart leap.

“Hey you,” he replied with that soft tone he always has for her. (He doesn’t think he can help it, really.)

He takes a sip of the drink and smiles because…

It’s black.

Black coffee, 2 sugars, which happens to be his favorite way to take his coffee.

“What-“

“You hate sweet stuff. I don’t know why you drink that stuff in the morning. You always get this at the coffee shop, so I figured you should have it at home.” She says it smiling, hopeful and he really really wants to kiss her pretty grin.

“Thank you.”

“Why do you get the sweet stuff from me anyway? You know you could’ve told me you didn’t like it.” She says, edge of a laugh in her tone and his stomach drops because the pathetic reason is that he can’t talk to her.

She says this while moving her hand to go over his, and he.

He can’t stand how much he wants to lean into it, how good it feels for someone he adores to treat him like he matters. Like he’s the same kind of magic she is.

“I, uh. I don’t really know how to talk to you.”

Then that honey-sweet smile falls off her lips and is replaced with a small pout, her fingers drawing away, and he feels pathetic for wanting to reach his hand back and tack hers back.

“I thought we were getting along?” She says confusion but unmistakable hurt in it, “I’m sorry, Buck. I must’ve been clingy, lotta boring mornings.” She’s trying to play it off as a self-deprecating joke, her loving eyes pointed to the table-

And it clicks.

She thinks he doesn’t like their mornings together. Doesn’t like the mornings they spend waiting for everyone to wake up and her telling rambled stories in that voice he could listen to forever.

He doesn’t know why she would think his inability to speak to her would be because of something she’d done or been.

“My mornings are anything but boring when you’re there, doll.” He doesn’t mean for the last word to slip out, but there’s only so much self control his loathing can afford him.

“Yeah?”

“You’re kinda gorgeous, doll,” he laughed at himself under his breath, how silly he sounds saying that like it’s a secret. “Makes m’nervous.”

“Really?”

Wide smile, bright eyes meet his gaze and god, he’s so in love with the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and he’d do anything to keep that grin on her forever.

She starts giggling then, and he loves the sound of it but there it is, her not looking at him with that same adoration he looks at her with.

It’s like an inevitable downfall that hurts as much as any other one. He knows that he’s not deserving of someone like her, and that he’s in love with her.

There are facts of the universe.

The earth is round, gravity keeps us tethered to the earth, and Bucky Barnes is in love with the most beautiful girl on the planet.

He knows the idea of her loving him is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever thought of, he hates himself for wishing for it with every fibre of her being.

Then she speaks again, something he wasn’t expecting.

“…So you had a chocolatey drink you hate just so you didn’t have to tell me to change your drink order?”

“Is that why you’re laughing?”

“Yeah, you dummy. If you wanted to ask out, all you had to do ask.”

“Wait.” He says, spinning head, her eyes with such fondness.

“Jesus, and I thought I was being too obvious. I have a big old crush on you, Mr.Barnes. Maybe you should ask me on a dinner date. You know, since we’ve had so many coffee ones.”

“Please-please don’t mess with me,” he says, eyes wide and his chest pooling with hope, “I don’t think I could take it, doll.”

Pretty eyes look up at him, adorable pout playing at her lips before moves in closer and closes the gap between them, her hands moving to the back of his neck and his to her cheek, adoration in every touch.

Bucky would like to think the rubble that he is could be put back together with the light she is, slow as it might take.

tag list under cut! 

feedback!!! pls

@frecklesholland @heckin-good-holland  @afoxwonderland@radicalstars@once-upon-a-walking-wolf-demigod@thecreativeangel@barnesvogue@nedthegay@nevaehsuga @the-girl-with-no-plan@llotrr@uglygirlkk@macfullyloaded17@dianileesawsomeness@readixgkodie615@blamebangtan@emgrace728@nedslaptop@dangerousluv1@midtownsparker@loverboy-holland @princeofsassgard@rareunicorntris912 @sammy-holland@livingoffsavvyillusions@painterwithhope@spiderboytotherescue@yoitsnotkim@pandartist@vampireloveandfun@gracethegeek9902  @spectacularspiderman58 @not-reptilian   @ashleyhearto@thehollandcommittee @holtzmannnd @tmrhollandkay

@chloroformmoth @alpacawatcher @hufflebuffpitch

[irwen-s]

hhhhh idk if i read it somewhere but yeah..omegas getting needy and just wanting to cuddle and have that skin-on-skin contact with their alpha in the days leading up to their heat...soft

i love discussing the non-sexual and worldbuilding aspects of abo..like obviously i love smutty smut but abo can also be super soft. yes u get it gyuri trying to make herself impossibly smaller so she can feel the safety and security of saerom's arms!!! [screams] theyre so soft

also ya ive thought about making a hc blog before but i feel like i always run out of steam before i can write my ideas out in full. for now im just happy to chat w you and bounce hcs off each other but do let me know if you get tired of me invading your askbox every other day lol!! (you'll be the first to know if i do make a blog one of these days tho :P)

if you're still up for indulging my rambles here's a new thought i had last night while watching ep 2 of fromis' from 2 meals, when jiwon messed up cooking the noodles and was being down on herself but jisun and saerom were quick to reassure her: omega jiwon with her alphas saerom and jisun. jiwon is so bright that she draws everyone around her in with her childlike excitement and seemingly endless supply of energy. her alphas, especially saerom, are guilty of occasionally egging her on and participating in her antics, but more often, saerom and jisun are content to watch from the sidelines, keeping a close eye on their little omega who shines as bright as the sun. but jiwon is human, and she's fallible, so there are moments where her light seems to dim and she doubts herself. she tries to cover up her disappointment by laughing it off but all her jokes fall flat, coming out as self-deprecating admonishments rather than her usual excitable humour. late at night, jiwon is lying with her head on jisun's lap and saerom is sitting next to them, stroking jiwon's hair. everyone is ready to pass out, bellies full with all the food they made for dinner, clothes still smelling of the barbecue smoke. "i really messed up in the kitchen today, huh? jiwonnie is a bit of a klutz, can you forgive her?" jiwon says it with her aegyo voice, looking every bit like a little duck with an exaggerated pout on her lips. saerom and jisun humour her with little chuckles. they don't even need to glance at each other to know what the other is thinking - typical jiwon, trying to play it off again. saerom raps a knuckle gently against their omega's forehead in reproach, but she makes up for it immediately after with the kiss she presses to jiwon's hair. "jiwon-ah, you did great. the noodles were still delicious, as if you couldn't tell with everyone wolfing them down at lunch," she scoffs, though there's no bite to the statement. jisun, who's been silent this whole time, hums in agreement, cupping jiwon's chin in her hand so she has to look up and make eye contact with her alpha, and for a moment, jiwon looks heartbreakingly vulnerable. "just...tell me i'm good?" saerom and jisun's hearts squeeze in their chests. jiwon, with her face free of makeup, wearing a t-shirt so big for her that she's almost drowning in it, is their baby. their omega to love and protect and cherish. "of course, baby. you're so good, and you did such a good job today," jisun says, kissing the palm of jiwon's hand. saerom has so many things she wants to say to jiwon - i love you, you're amazing, you light up every day for me, you make me want to be a better friend, lover and alpha - but she settles on "good girl," and the way that jiwon's eyes crinkle and her cheeks flush let saerom know she made the right choice. later, after jiwon is all tired out from saerom and jisun attacking her face with a relentless flurry of kisses, jisun softly offers to teach their omega a new recipe on their next free day, and even though there's still that self-doubt that lingers in the recesses of her mind, jiwon knows there is no judgment from her lovers.

oop i wrote another essay 💀 you suggested abo fromis and now youve created a monster. hope u enjoy my ramblings lmaooo pls feel free to contribute ur thoughts on this poly pairing, i love them already

- flover anon

wah thats such a cute abo headcanon . . . i think theres a kinda similar prompt in my inbox an anon gave me that relates to this so im gonna end up writing it eventually hahaha

omg you like the non-nsfw kind of worldbuilding stuff of the abo-verse too, thats super cool! im kinda crap at worldbuilding but the behaviorial aspects of abo seriously intrigue me a lot. i like exploring that for sure, especially for more atypical abo relationships

oh man yeah . . . thats just the shitty thing about writing. you have to make the thoughts pay rent in your head . . . gish gish. please let me know the day you try out a headcanon blog! or just even writing out a full out fic, i would lose my mind over that.

ive been rereading your mini fic essay for like the past few hours cause i cant stop Thinking about it now flover anon oh my goddddddd. i admittedly like saerom when shes paired with jiwon and jisun the msot but i didnt consider them as a TRIO until you put this in my inbox??? and jiwon as their omega while theyre both alphas is driving me crazy ive literally never thought of this before holy shit.

(jiwon trying to play it off as a joke even though she actually does feel guilty and insecure about it is making my heart explode especially because saerom and jisun already know exactly what shes doing and theyre immediately there to reassure her sobs)

i LOVE this idea and you just basically wrote a whole prompt out here oh my god . . . i want to write it but you already wrote it . . . im basically huhuing right now. i literally cant. this is so good? this is so *good* omfg

okay i know i took a super long time to respond to this but thats because i literally dropped everything to 1) watch the from 2 meal episode because i havent watched it yet i was gonna save it for later and to 2) write a small continuation BECAUSE I COULDNT RESIST. you wrote something so soft and sweet and i just [screams into a pillow] i wanted to add to it oh my god

flover anon . . . can you please for the love of jesus send in an actual fromis abo prompt with this trio cause i want to write something for them jfc, like sfw or nsfw either way

[liusaiidh]

soft pastel boyfriends hugging because martin blackwood gives the best hugs also fuck the eyepocalipse