#m . written starter

[thedcvilherself]

muse: tripp. owns & runs a mechanic shop & trailer park. pinterest here. plot: tripp is the true epitome of trailer trash; malnourished, illiterate, loose morals and a lengthy criminal record. most people tend to stay out of his way and eye line unless they need something — but for one reason or another, your muse has ended themselves there and let's just say he's not known for his self control. connections: any & all. current or past situation-ship, employee, customer/renter who couldn't afford to pay, customer/renter who came to him with a complaint of some kind, someone who knocked on his door for some reason (needing directions, selling something, campaigning for a political candidate, religious person trying to convert people), (step) relative, in law, friend’s sibling/kid, etc. note: seeing as I know how people can be with male muses over females, this will be highly selective.

"just quiet the fuck down, would ya?" there's annoyance in his voice, brought forth thanks to the sounds that had only continued to slip past their lips, unnecessary in his own mind despite the finger probing at their hole. it's a lovely sight, one he doesn't get often — a sweet and pretty little thing bent over the arm of the couch, clothing dropped around their ankles in order to leave their lower half exposed to his greedy hands and eyes. "you always this fuckin' whiney?" though now his annoyance mingles with amusement, a second digit joining the first and plunging into them without warning, groaning out in satisfaction as the pads of his calloused left hand grip at their contrarily soft hips. "fuck...that's gonna feel good wrapped around my dick, isn't it?" digits curling to brush at their inner wall before easing back out.

[storyofwhoiam]

Sad disaster lesbian deserves more love (or just delicious angsty threads tbh). Like this post and I'll write you a random short starter and fling a couple of no-obligation memes your way (reply if you'd rather just one or the other).

Alternatively, take this as your prompt to hit me up for plotting!

[Open to canons, OCs, crossovers, mutuals, and non-mutuals!]

Also available: Eloise starter call

[deepinthedarkworld]

@askiim

continuing from here

Dark hues met the wall across on the opposite side of the showers. Her back turned towards the male. "I know," she sighed, "but maybe you should start." Working in a firehouse as the only female had more negative sides than positives. Sure, the men were nice enough to look at but you were also at the receiving end of many sexist jokes. It definitely outweighed the nice looks. And the fact that the shared showers were next to the lockers didn't really scream 'privacy.' "I needed my camera bag for the shoot before the ambulance gets another call and I have to rush out. I was trying to be quick. Didn't think about the water." Pinching the bridge of her nose, the brunette turned back towards him. Using her own hand to keep his lower region out of sight, dark eyes couldn't help but follow the streaks of shampoo down his naked chest before her eyes locked with his. "You don't see me showering with the curtain open, so why do you? Unless you want people to see you naked?" She raised an eyebrow. "Does your wife know?"

[ahalyaxreddy]

WITH: @ryanparrish LOCATION: ajax boxing gym

“Am I doing this right?” Even just a few years ago, Ahalya would have never sought Ryan out of her own volition. Perhaps they would have run into each other on the corner of the street and she would have immediately veered in the opposite direction, or she would have ducked out of sight should he have walked into the store. Truthfully, her reaction was maybe far more alarming than the reason for her avoidance. But what could she do, she was easily embarrassed and preferred not to have the reminder. Nonetheless, she had sought out his advice and guidance during what was one of the hardest times in her life. And when someone had seen her at that point ( even if he wasn't privy to the toughest and darkest moments ), it was felt frivolous for a childhood cringeworthy behavior to be the obstacle for their friendship. Hence why now, after sharing the good news with him that things were looking up for her father, she made her way to his establishment to show her gratitude with her feeble attempt at an apple pie. If pressed, she'd confess that it wasn't made by her but the store's recently acquired local vendor. But technically it was homemade. Just not in her home. Pie abandoned by the front, Ahalya ended up in boxing gloves, trying her hand at the activity for the first time. “So, how long do you think before I can take you?” She asked, throwing a weak punch that barely caused any movement in the punching bag before her.

[dthroned-sameurl]

                  eyes   blink   slowly      ,      shock   on   her   face   as   a   single   eyebrow   raises   and   she's   trying   to   find   the   right   words   to   express   how   she   was   feeling      .      also   how   she   was   going   to   have   to   talk   to   Luci   about   this   after      .      but   she   swallows   hard      &      looks   up   at   him      ,      unsure   if   she's   scared      ,      impressed   or   curious      .      possibly   a   mixture   of   all   three      .

            '      i'm   sorry      ,      you   want   me   to   do   what   with   that      ?      have   you   seen   me      ?      what   makes   you   think   I   can   do   that         ?      '

random , non prompted / no context starter for @bandersnch

[prettyboykatsuki]

ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA

☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+

++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.

☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty

please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

THIS IS PART TWO. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART ONE.

☼ wc ; 16.8k / 33.2k

☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative

☼ synopsis ; you spend the next four years of your life pining miserably and trying to get over your first love. it all comes crashing during the year you turned twenty-one, fresh out of a break-up and forced to reconcile with your estranged childhood friend.

PART TWO: LIGHT MY WAY BACK HOME.

Freshman orientation seems less like an orientation and more like a social gathering.  

You’re not really sure why you didn’t think of that. This one is being held by seniors in your department, so you figured they’d talk to you about things like majors or clubs or general campus life.  

The presence of alcohol and cigarettes after only thirty minutes is what alerts you of your doom. You’re screwed.  

For many reasons and in many ways.  

For starters, you’re all the way out in Hokkaido, which is a 19 hour trip from your hometown. You don’t know anyone at school except that one alpha you keep bumping into, and more importantly - you wouldn’t know of any good ways to excuse yourself to leave. You don’t even know where to go if you did.   

Secondly, you’re really not interested in drinking again. At least, not for now. The memory of Bachira is strangely fresh despite it being over a year since, and you’re afraid a drop of alcohol is going to make you spiral out and humiliate yourself in front of your peers.  

Third, most of the people here seem at least somewhat acquainted with each other. From the introductions at the start, there’s only one other freshman here and he’s already friends with a bunch of people. On top of that, he’s the rowdy alpha type you have a hard time with so you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do other thank stick to the wall and hope for the best.  

You text Miki-chan as you sit in the corner. Were you always this poor at socializing?  

After a few minutes, someone comes and plops themselves next to you. You’re mildly startled by her presence, jumping in your skin. She smells sweet,  a mix of overripe mango and something floral. You startle as she crowds in your space, eyes widening.  

“You’re the new freshie, right?”  

You blink at her then nod. She’s extremely pretty and not entirely Japanese which is common for this campus. “Uh, yes. Nice to meet you…”  

“Hira,” She says easily  

“Nice to meet you, Hira-senpai.” You bow.  

“Oh, how formal! Sure, call me that if you want.” She moves in even closer. You feel your heartbeat skyrocket and feel thankful you’re wearing a scent patch. “You looked a little lonesome in the corner, so I thought I’d come save you. First party like this?”  

You’re surprised. “Is it obvious?”  

“Mm, not really. But I can tell at least. I’m good at reading people. And I was interested in you,” 

You stare at her as she leans against the wall. Long lashes, dyed hair, full lips and a scent so intoxicating you could drown. You feel flush just looking at her, attracted to her undeniably. The look she’s giving you is making you a little delirious.  

Your eyes go wide. “Sorry?”  

She beams but doesn’t repeat herself. “Are you a beta?”  

“An omega,”  

You feel her nose brush against your covered scent glands and feel a jolt up your spine. “Oh, you are. You smell good.” 

You blink slowly, hesitating. “Thanks.” 

“Which way do you swing, then?”  

Is she… hitting on you? Then again, she could just be the touchy type like Bachira.  

“I prefer omegas. I’ve never dated an alpha seriously.” But I was in love with at least one.  

Her eyes light up. “So you swing both ways, or at least you like omegas. Good. My radars rarely wrong. Ever been in a relationship with anyone?”  

“Just for a few months in highschool.” You admit.  

“Right. Got any experience then?”  

She’s…  

“Uh, not really no. Kissed and stuff but that’s about it.”  

“Eighteen, no experience, and into other omegas…that tracks. You’re not having much fun at this party, either. So, how about…” You feel her hand on your thigh and nearly choke on air. “We change all of that in one go?”  

You feel a little guilty. You’re not sure what you should be doing. You never really thought about losing your virginity when you were in school for obvious reasons, and thought of it even less so when you were with Bachira. It’s not like it’s of incredible importance to you. Is it something you should let go of easily? Does it matter?  

On the other hand, are you ever going to have a beautiful omega girl older than you offer to take your virginity and it not be an illusion? You’re not really sure if it’s possible. And you’re a lot of things, but you’re not a eunuch. Some part of you hopes it’ll get your mind off of Bachira.  

“I really don’t know what I’m doing, just as uh. As a prerequisite.” You say stiffly.  

“Are you a quick learner?”  

Your breath hitches. “Yeah,”  

“Then you’ll be just fine! Sooo… wanna get out of here?”  

Shit. “Uh, y-yeah.”  

“Great!”  

She grabs your hand, hauling you up and dragging you along with her. Some of the seniors in your department shoot you a look like they’re impressed and you’re not sure if you should be mortified or flattered. “Taking the freshie with me.”She turns to someone who’s name you don’t remember. “Don’t wait up! And don’t come home either.”  

Said friend sighs. On the way out, you hear them ask around about sleeping over and feel a little guilty.  

__  

She tells you about herself on the way to her place. A short walk from campus, you spend most of it wondering if you’re in some kind of dream. Hira-senpai is mixed but she’s grown up in Sapporo for most of her life.  

Half-north indian and half-japanese. Tan skin, brown eyes, and long hair - something about her looks straight out of a dream. She holds your hand on the way to her apartment and talks to you so casually it makes you feel like friends. She’s good at conversation in a way that’s familiar to you, reminds you a lot of Bachira no matter how much you hate making the comparison.  

Most of all, she’s an incredibly attractive distraction. She’s just a touch taller than you but she’s got long legs and nice assets, with curves in all the right places. She’s toned too. She dresses nice and smells so good. Has all the flair of an omega that makes your heart race.  

Once you get up to her apartment, she wastes no time in getting you into her bedroom.  

Kissing someone with the intention of having sex is different than whatever you were doing in highschool. Hira is well practiced in how she touches you, strips you naked, admires you. 

She’s aggressive with you but you don’t mind. You end up in her bed faster than you thought you’d be. She kisses with with tongue, teeth nipping at your lips and neck as she whispers to you all sorts of things about likes and dislikes. You learn how to use your mouth and how hard to suck, and smooth your tongue along her scent glands in the ways to turn her on.  

You find you don’t mind touching her. You like making her feel good. She gets wet for you and talks to you sweet. Intoxicating, you let her play with you as she pleases without words of complaint. You make her cum once, then again because you like how she grips onto your hair. Her praise is nice when you make her cum. It feels good when she returns the favor even though you feel embarrassed the entire time.  

You fuck until sunrise and sleep in her bed. When morning comes, you find her wrapped around your with your body covered in unfamiliar nips of teeth. She tells you to stay for breakfast.  

You feel like you walked the stairwell to adulthood a little too quickly. But it’s the longest you spent not thinking about the past 

So you stay with her. You sit up and open your phone.  

(sent 9:34am) just lost my virginty to my omega senpai. uni is weird  

9:35am: You have 24 new notifications.  

__ 

[ NINETEEN ] 

“Do you wanna become club manager?”  

You shoot a surprised glance at Satou-kun, one of your only alpha friends on campus and captain of your university soccer team. You’re currently in the club room, reviewing footage of their opposing team before they start training for the inter-collegiate tournaments.  

This is a favor you’re doing for Satou-kun as a part of him helping you find board and housing all the way out here. Your current university had been your last choice despite being incredibly prestigious as a result of extra-curricular and exceptionally good marks for years of highschool.  

 You were supposed to be staying in a dorm room but there was some trouble in the office and no space left in the omega-beta dorms for you to stay at.  

You met Satou-kun crying outside of the 7/11 near your campus, dropped down to your knees in pre-heat distress. Satou is from the countryside. A big, lumbering 6’4 alpha who apparently can’t leave people alone in times of need, especially not crying omegas. He bought you a meal and helped you find room and board temporarily before later finding you an apartment near campus.  

In short, you owe him a lot. Insistent on paying him back, you’ve spent a lot of time helping out their soccer team doing this and that. Once, off-handedly during their practice, you’d helped one of their other team mates out with their dribbling and have since then become a psuedo-member.  

You don’t really have any interest in soccer. Or at least, you didn’t for the first eighteen years of your life. Maybe it’s because you’re so far from home, but there’s something about seeing them play that feels familiar and fulfills an old itch.  

Still, you’re not really expecting the offer. You’ve only known Satou-kun for a few months and you’ve known his team for even less.  

“Uh. I’ve never been a sports team manager, so I don’t know if I’d be any good.”  

“Seriously?” He sits next to you in a chair backwards, pushing his hair back with his hand. “You know a lot about soccer though?”  

You swallow. “A friend—sorry, an old friend of mine plays. My nii-san did too but that was way back. I’ve just been around it a lot.” 

He gives you a long look, brushing past the very obvious shake in your voice. You like that part of him, you think. “I think it’s fine. The team likes you. You’re meticulous and do well under pressure.” He takes a drink from his water bottle. “Plus I think the guys would be more motivated with a pretty omega manager. At least they’d wanna impress you.”  

You blink. He says it so neutrally you almost don’t catch it.  

“Thanks?”  

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just an observation,” Satou says, shaking his head. “I think you’d be an asset to the team. There’s no one else who can mediate with coach like you can.”  

Your lips twitch in the ghost of a smile. “That’s true,”  

Your thoughts end up at Bachira as you consider the offer. Lips furled into a frown, something heavy weighs on your heart. You’ve gotten better at not letting him consume your every waking thought. Being busy has helped. But soccer is the one thing that reminds you of Bachira most. You’re not really opposed to being manager. You just don’t know if it’ll be too much. You’re not enough of a masochistic to say yes without hesitation. The painful, constant reminder of him through being manager just feels overwhelming.  

You haven’t seen him in nearly two years, except on T.V. or in the news, doing exactly what you thought he would. You’ve put so much effort into getting over him but it feels like you’ve hardly made progress.  

You sigh.  

“Can I give you my answer later? After I consider it more?”  

“Sure. If it isn’t too invasive though,” He leans into looking closer. “Can I ask what’s making you hesitate? I’d guess it’s that childhood friend but,”  

You blink in surprise. “Yeah. That obvious?”  

He shakes his head. “Got a nose like a hound, granny always said. Could feel the change even with the strong patches and inhibitors.”  

“Ah,” You look down at your lap. “My friend and I had a pretty bad falling out. Think it was two years ago now, but I’m just worried it’ll bring up bad memories.”  

“You cared about him a lot, huh?”  

You aren’t sure what brings you to say it out loud. “I was in love with him. Basically my whole life.”  

It’s the first time you’ve ever said it to anyone. It doesn’t feel as horrible as you expected.  

“Was he an omega?”  

You give him a humorless smile, shaking your head. “An alpha.”  

He blinks in realization before nodding.  

“Must’ve been someone special then,” Satou scratches the back of his neck. “I can’t tell you I understand it but you know. Maybe being our manager can help give you some better memories than what you left with. With time.”  

“I know it probably sounds ridiculous. Two years is a long time.” You reply back. 

“Huh? Hardly.” Satou looks at you directly when he speaks. “Don’t force yourself to get over it. I know you’re the worrying type, but sometimes it’s fine to just let things go as they are.You have to keep living your life right?”  

“Right,”  

“So don’t think of it in negative terms like getting over it. Do it if it’s something you might want to do. If it gets too much I’ll support you as captain or let you leave. You can make new memories here. It’s an opportunity, that’s all”  

You give Satou-kun a small smile. “Satou-kun…you’re a good guy. You’ll find a good wife.”  

“You sound like granny,” He says. “If you’re ever interested in becoming farmers wife in the country side, you’re always welcome to take the position up.”  

“Are you joking?”  

“No.” He says, standing up. His tone is unreadable. “You’d be good at it. You’re strong with good attention to detail so I think the work would be easy for you. Plus you’re after a quiet life, aren’t you?”  

“This is a bad proposal,” You deadpan, shaking your head. “And most omegas would be pissed if you told them they look good to work on a farm.”  

“It’s a compliment.”  

“This is why you’re not popular.” You retort with a small chuckle. “If I ever decide to marry an alpha and give up on everything, I’ll find you. For now, I’ll have to decline the proposal. But I’ll accept becoming manager.”  

Satou-kun claps your shoulder. “Eh. I’ll take it,” Your eyes meet. “If you change your mind on either thing, just let me know.”  

“Of course. Thanks, captain.”  

“Anytime.”  

__ 

“Are you sure you want this?”  

Hira-senpais roomate, Shinohara, busies himself with sterilizing needles. You glance at yourself in the mirror in their bathroom, red-rimmed eyes making you feel pathetic. You really want something to do.  

Drink, smoke, something. But you’re not trying to start on using substances when thinking of Bachira since you’re sure it’ll kill you. You just need the distraction. The game is still playing in the background in the other room, so when you hear the channel change and feel thankful to whoever shifted it.  

You rub your eyes with the end of your hand, voice hoarse. “Yeah. And I’m gonna get a tattoo.”  

“You’re still this hung up on that kid? Whatever his name was,” He snaps his fingers. “Bee boy.”  

You huff. “Yeah.”  

“Have you tried dating other people?” He suggests.  

Shinohara pours rubbing alcohol onto something before wiping your ear with it on both sides. It’s cold and makes you shiver. “No. Never been interested,”  

“Don’t you think it’s about time you get interested?” He uses a marker next, placing a dot carefully before assessing it. He repeats the process on the other side. “I mean, if just seeing him on T.V. is enough to do this to you after all this time… You barely react to anything, like a damn stone statue. Yet, here you are.”  

“It’s not just that,” You sniffle again. Shinohara-kun gives you a disbelieving look in the mirror, shaking his head. It’s not just the fact you saw Bachira, but that you keep seeing him exceed your expectations. In news magazines, in articles, in ads for sports drinks. What broke you was seeing him on the news after seeing him earlier in a magazine for the greatest talents to come out of Bluelock, with speculation in his potential to become the greatest striker alive.  

You’ve done a good job not thinking about him. You even got used to the press when you went to your hometown and saw him plastered on posters. But it dawns on you he’s still living his dreams and he’s not even twenty yet.  

And you play no part in them. You bite your lip trying not to cry.  

“I’m not piercing you if you keep shaking,” Shinohara says with no real bite. A gloved hand wipes your tear. “So toughen up, brat.”  

“Stop calling me that. You’re only a few years older than me,”  

“Stop acting like one and I’ll consider. Now take a deep breath. It’s gonna hurt pretty bad, alright? If you jolt I’m gonna kill you.”  

“Stop worrying about me.” You sniff, wiping your nose. “I’m fine”  

He rolls his eyes. “Then count to three and take a deep breath.”  

__  

[ TWENTY ] 

“I’m home!”  

Your face is cold from the winter air as you step inside. You shake off the snow from your body as you wipe your face, exhaustion settling in from the long travel. It’s not your first winter break home but even after two years you can’t get used to the distance  

You leave your bag and luggage at the door as you strip out of your jacket, hanging it on a nearby hook. You sigh in relief, mind drifting off to thoughts of sitting in the kotatsu and warming up while you let your brain rot from television. You only have so many days break before you have to travel back to Sapporo. You glance at the shoe rack and notice a single pair of loafers. Your parents are probably grocery shopping. You always have hotpot the day before New Years.  

There’s only one other person that leaves. You raise your voice louder as you call out again.  

“Nii-san, I’m home.”  

“In the living room,”  

You stretch your arms over your head, sweater sliding over your stomach as you walk into the living room to see him spread over the couch watching something on the T.V. Looks like some kind of comedy variety show.  

“Hey,”  

You make a noncommittal noise, beelining to the kotatsu in the center of the room, sliding yourself underneath with a long sigh. Nii-san laughs behind you.  

“Still snowing?” 

“Got worse in the last hour,” You prop your elbows on the table, laying on your arms with a loud yawn. “My bags wet so I left it in front of the door.”  

He hums as the two of you continue to watch T.V. in comfortable silence. You feel his gaze on your back for a while before turning around slightly to look at him. “What are you looking at?”  

“Did you get your ears pierced?”  

You blink. “Yeah. My helix and upper lobe on both sides.”  

He stares at you for a long while after you tell him, leaving you confused. It’s rare you see your brother these days. He’s twenty-nine this year. He’s scruffy, face prickly with hair and hair grown out longer than normal. Eyes squinted, you feel his hand pull at the collar of your sweater before peering down at your back.  

“When did you get a tattoo?” 

Surprised, you pull away from his grasp frowning. “Same time I got my piercings.”  

“What for?” 

“I just wanted to get them,” You say, fidgeting with your. 

“Well, it’s fine.” He says after a while, voice softened. His hand comes up to your head, patting it like you’re a kid again. You squirm away from the touch and sudden affection. You don’t know if you’ll ever properly figure out what’s on his mind. “You’re such a goody two-shoes kid a little rebellion won’t hurt. Kaa-san’s gonna freak over the tattoo though.”  

“I won’t be here long enough for her to find out I don’t think. And even if she does, it’s not like I can get it removed now. It’s usually covered up enough that no one noticed.”  

“I saw it cause of the way you were sitting, so don’t worry about it.” He says, patting your shoulder. “What’s the tattoo of?” 

You frown, turning away with a flush. “…A bumble bee on a kuroyuri flower.”  

“A bee huh? Should kill that stupid brat.”  

“Nii-san!” You shake your head. “I already told you the fight was my fault. Don’t use it as a reason for your grudge, okay?”  

He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re twenty right?”  

You nod. Nii-san grabs a beer from the plastic bag besides him, cracking the top open before handing it to you with a long look. “Here,”  

You take the beer from his hand and take a drink from the top, malt hitting your lips and warming you up from the inside. “…Thanks.”  

“If you’re gonna go out of your way to defend him even now, just text him and make up already,”He says, shaking his head. “The piercings, the tattoo… all that was to get over him, huh?”  

You feel embarrassed. Was it that obvious you were hung up on Bachira this way? He always had a weird sixth sense about things, so maybe not. “It doesn’t matter.”  

He sighs. “It does matter. If you care this much, there’s no way it doesn’t. Don’t be obstinate and figure things out with him.”  

“Even if I could do that,” Which I can’t, ever. “He’s rarely home anyways, and I don’t want to have that conversation on the phone. Plus, he’s probably forgotten all about it.”  

“You’re a smart kid but sometimes you’re so oblivious it makes me feel bad. Was it because you’re sheltered? You have no common sense.”  

“Hey!”  

“I know you’re just being careful but there’s no need to this extent. You two were attached at the hip for almost two decades. There’s no way he’d forget even if he’s a famous soccer player right now. Just make up with him.” He says, then sighs before giving you a serious look. “But seriously don’t marry him. I’ll kill you both.”  

“I told you he likes alphas.”   

“And you like him, despite liking omegas, right?”  

You make a noise of indignance “That’s different,”  

“It’s not. I don’t care about him but don’t be a coward. You’re a lot tougher than that as is and it doesn’t suit you at all.”  

You turn your eyes to the T.V. pretending to watch it while deep in thought.  

You don’t know. It’s been three years since you and Bachira stopped being friends but the wound doesn’t feel any more healed than it did last time. There are longer stretches of time in between that you can without feeling like the world is collapsing underneath you, but you’re not over it despite your best efforts. Maybe it’s true you haven’t truly tried hard enogh. Your last conversation was messy at best, a rushed outro to a life long friendship without any real closure.  

But you don’t think you’re owed closure. What’s more, you don’t even know what you’d say. There’s both so much and so little you want to tell him.  

I’m proud of you. I’m sorry. Who takes care of you now that I’m gone? Do you miss me as much as I miss you? 

But how do you have that conversation? You’ve never been good at being upfront with your feelings. You keep to yourself, keep your head down, and get lucky to be around people who do it for you.  

Even if you were to get closure now, could you handle it? You were never under the impression Bachira could love you, but at least now you can be open about it. At least now, you can tell people when they ask you about love and confess it like some sort of sin. The first time you told Satou-kun that truth, it felt like a weight had finally been unburdened. To become friends again now would mean you bear that silence of that again while you try to fall out of love, or you confess to it him and make things hard on you both.  

You don’t want either outcome. You just want Bachira to be your friend. And you want things to be easy. You’re not seventeen anymore.  You have school, work, clubs - things that you still need to be present for.  

You can’t handle the heartbreak of that loss twice. It’d kill you.  

Maybe, someday, when you’re really over it - you’ll reach out to Bachira as friends. Another two years so it’s been at least five, and you’re closer to graduation than you are to highschool.  

For now though, the idea of seeing Bachira again is painful at best and stupid at worst.  

“I need more time,” You reply after a while. “To get over it more. I don’t want to meet him when I’m still this… emotional about it.”  

Nii-san sighs, over you. “Fine. If you say so. Drink your little heart out over it but when the time comes, dont’ miss your chance alright? Promise me.”  

“I thought you didn’t like him.” 

“You little—just promise.”  

“Fine, fine,” You fall forward again on your kotatsu - waving a dismissive hand. “Promise.”  

__  

“I can’t believe my favorite heat partner went and got a boyfriend on me,” 

Hira-senpai slides herself across from you in the booth in front of you. You glance up from your laptop just barely too greet her as Shinohara joins the both of you. Shaking your head, you take stock of your surroundings quickly. The cafeteria at the bottom floor of the  mathematics building is still just as empty as it was when you came in.  

“Where did you two just back from?”  

“A seminar thing for senior capstone.” Shinohara answers. You make a short ahhh sound before continuing on with your typing.  

“Don’t just ignore me, both of you!” Hira insists. Your lips quirk up at the corners.  

“Stop announcing that we have sex so loudly and I’ll consider it.”  

“Fine, fine. I just can’t believe you got confessed too and you said yes! And you only told me through text!!”  

“What was I supposed to do? You weren’t even on campus so I couldn’t tell you in person.”  

She pouts, dipping a fry into ketchup as she props her elbows up on the table.  

“Whatever. I want details!”  

“It was that huge omega guy on the soccer team, right? What was his name again…?”  

You furrow your brow. “How do you know that?”  

“I know everything.” He says seriously. You roll your eyes.  

“Yeah it was. Takahashi-kun. He confessed to me as soon as I got back from visiting home over winter break in the club room. Gave me flowers and everything.”  

“Flowers? What a serious guy. Are all the soccer club guys like that?”  

You grimace. “I think all soccer players are predispositioned to have something just a little wrong with them. Him being chivalrous is fine, all things considered.” 

“Hm. True.”  

“Sooo, did you just say yes right away? That’s super unlike you!” 

“Huh? No, of course not. I told him upfront that I’m still getting over someone so I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” You say, typing away at your computer. “But he said he didn’t care and wanted to date me anyways.”  

“What a weird guy.” Shinohara hums thoughtfully.  

“He’s that into you?!”  

You nod. “I guess so. I asked why it had to be me and he said something I didn’t catch. Just that he thought I’d be a good partner and accept an omega like him. Which I guess is true.”  

Shinohara chuckles. “You sound so enthused.”  

You shrug. “It’s not like I lied. He’s a good guy, I know that. And I mean. Not like I have anything to lose. You guys are the ones telling me to try and move on.”  

They both say “True,” at the same time, making you shake your head.  

“So you’re gonna date him seriously?”  

“I’m gonna try,” You reply with a long sigh. “I really just want to move on.”  

__ 

You date Takahashi-kun for a year.  

It’s a good year, and a good relationship.  

He’s good to you in all ways that matter. He still believes in old timey traditional of courting and courts you like an omega might an alpha despite you not being one. Brings you food he’s made and other handmade ornaments. He’s taller than most omega men. A little over six feet and muscular with a sharp jaw but the roundest, brownest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

Often, he asks you if you’re fine with him. Comes into your arms and weeps into your neck, scent sweet like fresh cream as he apologizes for not being cute. Takahashi is more omega than you are. Shows submission and pleasure in the textbook ways you see only in books and pornography. He’s kind and doe-eyed and timid. He’s easy to talk to. He’s attractive. Sharing heat together always feels pleasurable and warm. 

Alphas like him. Mostly alpha women. And you like Takahashi too, while you date him. He’s tender and thoughtful - easy to read and easy to treat well. The relationship is never something worthy of complaint.  

Which is why you break up with him before you leave for winter break the next year.  You explain it  all to him and feel incredibly disheartened when he cries. Takahashi is the poster image for what makes a good omega. And because he is so good, so kind, so caring - it’s unfair to continue to be with him when you know you can’t grow to love him the way he loves you. 

If a year in your ideal theoretical relationship can’t be enough to cauterize the wound of your heartbreak, there’s probably nothing else that will except time. Even hysterical, you relay all of this to Takahashi as best you can. You don’t regret being with him, because he’s taught you plenty of things. 

It’s because he’s taught you so much that you’re able to break up with him at all instead of remaining comfortable and impassive. Because you know the depth of another persons unconditional love and because you also grow to love Takahashi. You love him in a different way than he loves you, and you leave because it’s unfair. It’s the first year of your life that has felt long and meaningful since you and Bachira parted ways four years prior.  

So you split with him, and tell him everything on your mind. And because Takahashi is a good person who loves you unconditionally - it hurts you both, even though he accepts. He asks that if someday, you think you might change your mind to call him. He asks to be friends.  

You promise to him both, and then tell him again that you hope someone better will be there for him and that you love him even if it’s not like that.  

The day you break up with Takahashi, you have to take a train ride three hours long to get to the airport where you’ll board a short flight, then make the hours long venture back to your hometown.  

You’re fine for the duration. You don’t cry often anyway. It’s fine until your phone buzzes with the notification that F.C. Barcha has won a tournament match and will proceed to the next World Cup Qualifiers.  

And then, like clockwork, you sob into your hands on an empty train - heart so full of longing you could nearly throw up.  

You think, breaking up with Takahashi-kun was the right choice.  

You think, I miss him.  

You heart doesn’t name who exactly you miss. That name is written all over it anyways.   

__  

[ TWENTY-ONE ] 

For the first few days of your winter break, none of your family is in your house for you to hang around.  

This is something you’ve always been used to. Your parents have been on a trip in Kyoto and won’t be back until after new years and nii-san is working a lot of overtime until about the same. You have a copy of your house keys so you have a place to stay, and you’ve made some shrine plans with Miki and Sasaki since you’re back home.  

They’re both still busy until the thirtieth though, so until then you have nothing to do.  

Today is the twenty-sixth, the day after Christmas. You’re home early since all of your classes finals lined up in the short-span of three days. It was stressful but you’re thankful for the extended few days that allowed you to go home early.  

Yu-san has insisted you spend some time with her instead of being by yourself. You always spend a day or two at her house during your winter breaks and have since you left for college. After your eighteenth birthday, it just felt like the right thing to do.  

You bring her something every year when you visit, and sometimes you stay over night. She treats you like her own, and fills you in about Bachira from time to time.  

In honor of upholding tradition, you decide to go see her a little early this year. Before you enter the familiar and cramped space of Yu-sans apartment - you always buy her a nice bouquet of flowers, a box of sweets, and an expensive bottle of sake. You have a gift for her too, some souvenirs from Hokkaido like always.  

You stop by your house first to drop off your things and lock up before walking the short distance to your childhood friends home in the winter air.  

You’ve been too often to knock after all, instead opting to text Yu-san and let her know that you’re there. You wait outside until she responds, giving you the go-ahead. 

yu oba-san (sent 9:57pm): the door is open but i had to step out for  a bit. make yourself comfortable.  

You gather your things up in one hand and tucking the flowers carefully in your arms to open the door. Your bag of gifts and drinks lands on the floor with a soft clunk as you set it down besides you, balancing flowers on the small cabinet near the entryway. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it, you force your feet out of your winter boots, eyes searching around for the right pair of slippers.  

When you go to put your boots up on the shoe rack, you notice that there’s an unfamiliar pair of sneakers. You notice it too late. Mens sneakers. 

 A faint scent of burnt honey.  

You shake your head trying to shake the thoughts away. The likelihood of it being Bachira is so slim you wonder why you’re considering. The match for F.C. Barcha took place in Spain. It takes a day of travel to get to Japan, so you guess it’s possible. Even so, you think it’d be more likely he comes during New Years. It’s not guaranteed he’ll have enough time to even come home every year. He did two years back from what you know but not since then.  

You gather your things again. First the small bag you keep your personal stuff in, then the bags you’ve brought for Yu-san, and finally the flowers in your arm.  

You decide against announcing yourself since you suspect you’re the only there. 

Except you’re not.  

The whole world feels like it’s collapsing underneath your feet to see Bachira in flesh, tucked into the couch of his childhood home the same way he used to when you were kids - with both legs folded up and his chin resting on his knee.  

A shock of yellow hair, eyes gemstone gold and a stronger scent. Bachira. Meguru. 

You startle and think of what to do. What excuse you can make. How you can tiptoe your way out of the room and catch the breath that he steals away from your lungs.  

No such luck. Bachira is perceptive as always, noticing you before you get a chance to slip away.  

“Oh,” He murmurs. He’s taller. Just a bit, you think. “It’s you,”  

Your heart is thudding, blood rushing to your ears and face as you stare at him. You can barely feel your legs, weakness in your knees nearly making you buckle. Frozen stiff in place, you blink once, twice before nodding. You force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat.   

“Uhm,” You don’t know what to do. “Yeah. I came to visit Yu-san.”  

He nods back.  

“She told me I should come over as soon as I can.” Bachira says. He feels unfamiliar. His hair is longer, but styled up and his ear lobes are pierced. He looks so much older yet so much the same. “My team mate dropped me off with his jet so I made it in a day.”  

Ah. Was it planned? She’s like your nii-san in how much she wants you two to reconcile. “Makes sense.” You flounder. Awkward silence falls so you try to come up with anything to say. Your hands are sweaty. “ Uh..Congratulations on your win, by the way.”  

He looks surprised. “Do you keep up with soccer these days?”  

Just for you. “A bit. Out of habit, I guess. And I’m the soccer teams manager at uni.”  

Surprised, he blinks in silence for a while.  

 “Oh. Well,” Suddenly, he beams. It’s no doubt forced and it breaks you into a thousand pieces though you try not to let it show on your face. Try not to let the omega part of you whimpering for approval too obvious. He smiles at you “Don’t be a stranger on my behalf! You should put your stuff down and sit. We should uhm..catch up!”  

You make a face at him that you know is pained, but nod anyways. The tension in the air is so thick as you slide to the other side of the room, putting the flowers and other gifts on the kitchen counter.   

Four years. Four years. How are you supposed to act?  

“Uh,” You call from the kitchen, hoping the nerves in your voice aren’t obvious. “Do you uhm, maybe want something to drink? I brought alcohol and I think there’s beers in your fridge.”’ 

Your eyes meet from the living room to where you stand behind the counter. He shrugs, giving you a lighthearted smile.  

“Mm. My nutritionist might get pissed but whatever! Why not you know? A beer would be good, thanks!” 

You nod and try to do the same - keeping the conversation as light as you can. You repeat that it’s fine like a mantra.  

“Is beer not too bitter for you? I bought chuhai cans. There’s a pineapple flavor,”  

The question is innocent enough to you, but you realize seconds later the intimacy of it. Four years or not, you were Bachira’s friend your entire life so it’d be weirder not to know and even weirder not to at least ask. It’s an extension of courtesy no matter how unnecessary, and plus - you’re known for being a little too obsessed with the details.  Bachira prefers sweet things and likes canned pineapple. You’re sure you picked it up out of habit.  

When you look up at Bachira, he looks nearly ready to cry. It startles you so much you jolt out of your skin. He turns away. “Haha…You remembered,”  

A pang of concern makes leaves you standing in place. There’s no way you would’ve forgotten. “Oh uhm. Sorry. Is that weird for you?” You explain, trying not to overstep any boundaries. “If me being too familiar is making you uncomfortable then—“  

“It’s not that,” He insists seriously. “I was trying to keep it together but I can’t after that,” He lets out a loud sob suddenly. Your eyes widen. Several waves of emotion pass over you at the same time. “I missed you…hicc, why would you remember that…sniff,”  

You soften, shoulder slumped with endured longing.  

“I missed you too,” 

“Liar,” He hiccups again, crying in full hysterics this time. You shuffle back to the living room to join him on the opposite side of the couch, placing the bag of drinks on the coffee table and reaching a hand over to squeeze his knee. “You haven’t talked to me in four years. You didn’t miss me at all but you remember something so dumb. You’re always like that. You’re so….”  

You frown. Does he really think you didn’t miss him?  

“It wasn’t like that,”  

“Then explain it to me now! Hasn’t it been long enough…dont you…!” He exclaims, pulling his hands from his face. You can’t contain your surprise about the reaction though you understand it completely. You feel similar. You’ve convinced yourself the entire time that any relationship you had with each other was completely one-sided. Assuming he would move on fine without you now that there were people in his life he could call friends. Still, it’s so unusual to see evidence of it not being true. “You never explained anything to me you just..” He sniffs “Left me. I thought you didn’t care anymore but…”  

His display of genuine sadness makes you feel horrible.  

You press your lips together in a thin line, reaching into the bag for a tall can of beer and cracking it open before having a drink so it numbs your nerves.  

Your stomach is twisted up in a knot so tight you kind of feel sick. There’s no way around the conversation now. You can’t bear to see him cry so much, so you should at least clear up the understanding. 

 Leaned forward, elbows on knees - you keep your eyes focused in front of you, keenly aware of Bachira adjacent to you on the couch wiping his eyes.  

“It wasn’t that I didn’t miss you, I just uh,” You swallow a lump in your throat until it smooths out. “I just have stuff I want to get over before we could be proper friends again. I wanted to reach out to you a lot. It wasn’t like I stopped caring about you after we fought,”  

“You hated me for lying to you and being an alpha right? Wasn’t that what you had to get over in the first place?”  

Your eyes go wide. “No, uh. It’s complicated. I didn’t uhm, hate you for lying about it. I was shocked sure but you are—were my best friend. I did distrust alphas for a long time and I still don’t really like them… but it didn’t matter to me. I told you then too but I didn’t hate you it was just,”  

You chuckle nervously, running your thumb on the rim of the can. “It felt wrong to keep being your friend. Not knowing something so basic. The fact you felt like you couldn’t tell me. It was more like I was too ashamed to keep calling you my best friend.  

“You… Really?”  

You nod. “And uh, I didn’t want to reach out to you again until i got over some personal stuff.”  

“You big dummy,” He wipes his nose with the back of his sleeve. “It wasn’t like that at all…. Even back then, I knew you wouldn’t have hated me just for being an alpha,” He hiccups another sob. “I was just so scared you would that I didn’t want to tell you. I thought you would start treating me different and we’d stop being close if you found out I wasn’t an omega. You’re such a good person, how come you think of yourself like that? Why do you think…hicc”  

“Sorry,” You mumble, unsure of what to say.  

It feels like a great weight has been lifted up off your chest.  

“Stop apologizing, dummy. Stupid.”  

You give him a wobbly smile.  

“What did you have to get over that you couldn’t talk to me for four years?” He huffs. “If it wasn’t me being an alpha, what was it?”  

Your eyes widen, heart rate picking up so rapidly you can only pray he doesn’t hear it. You swallow spit, teeth sinking into your cheek. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.  

You’ve thought about this conversation before hundreds of times. Often. How it would go, what you would say if you ever got the chance to say it. But having the opportunity to confess right in front you makes it all feel hundreds of miles away. 

Your mind has filled in the details each time with it going so badly. Bachira’s face, disgusted with you or otherwise unsettled always sears itself in your psyche so strong you  bite your tongue. You always found him a little unsettled by you in you thoughts. Disgusted with you for liking him so much even knowing he’s not into omegas. You don’t want your own cowardice or misunderstanding to get in the way of being honest with him after so long. 

You would’ve waited two more years to even speak to him had you been given a choice. But now with him in front of you, how could you possibly do that? It’s the universes way of ripping the band-aid off, you think. Such a tricky outcome can only being ordained by faith.  

“Well, I uhm, I was—am, in love with with you. Since we were kids so uhm, after we split ways I couldn’t really apologize. I w-wanted to get along with you again for a long time but I couldn’t…” You shake your head, refusing to see his expression. Terrified that what you’ll see is disappointment. “I wanted to sort my feelings out first so I could approach you honestly, I guess. I k-know you like alphas, so I’m not expecting anything really! I just wanted t-to ease the burden on myself a bit instead of hiding.”  

There’s a long, long stretch of silence. It feels like forever.  

“You’re in love with me? But you like omegas don’t you?”  

“Not exclusively I guess? I h-haven’t figured it out yet. I’ve never been with another alpha but my feelings for you are real. I know it’s burdensome to hear that but—”  

“It’s not burdensome,” He cuts you off instantly. Your eyes widen slightly. His expression has completely changed. “Are you being serious? You’re in love with me? Since we were kids? Even after finding out I’m an alpha?”  

You nod slowly. “Yeah. That was also part of the reason. Learning you were an alpha brought up questions. Uhm. Anyways. It’s been four years and I still can’t get over it so I didn’t want to put myself through that again. I hope it’ll make you believe that I don’t hate you at least,” 

“You still love me, then.” He says softly. “Right?”  

You flush, wondering why he’s asking. “Yeah. Same as always.”  

He covers his face with his hands, suddenly grinning. Your eyes grow wide at that openly. “Aaaah!! I’m so happy I could die right now.”  

“Bachira?”  

“You big dummy. You should’ve told me before. How come you’re the only one in the entire world who didn’t know?” 

“S-sorry?”  

For the first time in this entire conversation, you let yourself look at Bachira who’s positively beaming at you. You blink rapidly, feeling suddenly deeply unsure of yourself and your surroundings.  

“I love you too, stupid,” He says, sniffling. “Since we were practically babies.” He sniffles again, more tears streaming down his face. “Uwah, I can’t stop crying, I’m so happy.”  

“But you…don’t you also like…?”  

“Alphas? Yeah I do,” Bachira hums happily. “I’ve never been with an omega. And I’m not really that interested in them, either. I’m clingy you know? And selfish. You were the exception. My one and only omega.”  

You cover your face with your hands. 

“What’s wrong?” Bachira asks.  

You laugh. “I’m so happy I think I could die.” You mimic. Tears wet your lashes with unusual swiftness. “I never thought in a million years you would ever like me back. It wasn’t even a possibility for me.”  

It feels completely surreal. You want to pinch yourself. If it’s a dream, you want to thank whatever power is responsible for making it such a pleasant one and you never want to wake up from it. He…Bachira loves you. The way you love him. It feels so impossible. Your mind can’t catch up, leaving you slack jawed.  

“Me too,” He hums lovingly. “Ahh, I don’t know if I should cry or shout.”  

“You’ll disturb the neighbors.”  

His grin is crooked. “Then you should do something to keep me quiet,”  

Your face grows hot at the sudden implication. You’re not a virgin but the idea is immediately too stimulating for you to act normally. “What’s with that…”  

“You’re acting like you’ve never kissed anyone before.” He teases. You shoot him a sharp look.  

Your eyes go down at your lap. “Don’t tease me. I want too, I just don’t know if I can,”  

You feel Bachira move over to you. He sits himself besides you on the couch, tucking himself against your side and moving himself to look at your face where you’re ducked down. You can feel the tingling in your skin at the proximity. Overbearing alpha scent that feels like a tight hug only because it’s Bachira.   

“How can I not tease you when you’re being so cute, hm?” He hums. He’s so close to you. “You normally don’t react to anything but then you behave timid like this. It’s so cute. Don’t act shy and kiss me already. Or at least let me kiss you,”  

“Bachira…” You murmur, trying not to explode.  

“Ehhh?? That’s not my name.”  

You laugh a little, picking your head up. “Meguru,”  

“Better!”  

You laugh again, helplessly happy. There’s no word in any language tantamount to what you feel - this much you’re sure of. Embarrassment doesn’t subside quickly but seeing Bachira in front of you makes you happy enough to try look forward. He looks older, somehow. His smile is familiarly boyish, sharpened teeth and piercing eyes even stronger than before.  

Pointed, predatory - lidded eyes meet yours. “Let me kiss you.”  

You nod, unable to form words to say yes but wanting it so terribly.  

The second kiss you ever share with Bachira in your life is exactly like him. Overwhelming. A hard press of lips followed by his tongue sliding across the soft seam of your mouth, coaxing you open until he can slip his tongue in. Immediately salacious and hot, the kind of kiss you can only have in total privacy. The intentions of it are obvious. Your body singes at the feeling, immediately burdened with the weight of life-longing wantings as you kiss him. Deep and melty, your hands reaching for his waist body urging you to pull him closer.  

You feel something tingling at the base of your spine as Bachira slides his tongue against yours hotly. Wet muscle tracing your mouth, drawing lines over every inch like he’s trying to devour you whole from the inside.  

The scent of him drives you insane. He’s so close. It’s suffocating - rich, homey burnt honey and amber with something spiced clouding your mind as you breathe him through hot panting breaths and kisses and kisses. Wetness grows between your legs, the skin under your clothes starting to itch.  

You’ve had years now to understand your heat. You know exactly when it’s coming, when it starts and how it feels. You’re not due for another few weeks but you know what your body is experiencing like the back of your hand. Bachira won’t stop kissing you long enough to let you warn him, tongue busy lapping at your lips. He swallows the little noises you make. You put your hands on his shoulders as you push him away, chest heaving through unbearably labored breaths.  

A whimper in your subconscious - animal in nature, whines at you indignant. Inner omega burdened with desire and overwhelmingly craving the alpha so readily available. Estrus symptoms rush you strongly as your eyes droop, pressing your legs together hard so no slick makes a mess on the couch.  

“Meguru,” You breathe out, barely. “My heat.”  

“Was it soon?”  

You shake your head. “I t-think you triggered it,” You huff, keeping your hand on his shoulder and wincing at the way your body keens.  

His eyes fill with excitement. “Are you saying you wanted me so bad I made your heat come early?”  

“Don’t say it so..haah… blatantly.” 

He shivers, scent and pheromones releasing even stronger than before. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder as he overwhelms you. He leans in close to you, teeth nipping at your jaw - fangs dragging feather light on your scent glands.  

“It doesn’t seem like you want to stop you know?” He murmurs the words against your neck, eliciting a low whine.  

“Yu-san is supposed to be coming back.”  

“She won’t for a while. It’s already this late, I bet she’s doing something else,” 

“You don’t know that though,” You reason. He hums happily, nonplussed about all of it.  

“Are you worried she’ll walk in? I can always fuck you upstairs. In my old room. She won’t catch us if you’re quiet,” His voice has a rasp to you you’ve never heard before. It’s usually smooth and upbeat, but there’s grit to it now that has you buckling at the knees. “I’m your alpha right? I should take care of you.” 

“Who said you were my…?”  

He gives you a serious look before you can get the rest of the words out. “Do you really think I’d let you be with somebody other than me now that I know? Don’t you think that’s silly?”  

The predatory hunger in his gaze makes your breath catch. A gazelle in the maw of a lion, you wonder if all prey animals tremble violently when they at risk of being eaten. There’s such a thing as survival instinct, but there are abnormalities and exceptions. Bachira bears his fangs you, a blatant claim of his possession - teeth nearly drawing blood on the thin skin of your neck and you think to yourself you want him to eat you. To split you apart and lick you up down to bone, until your vision clouds with nothing but the sight of his hunger.  

You want it so much you gasp, a bolt of lightning crackling through each of your veins. You shake your head obedient to your own want.  

“My alpha,” You try the words out, heaven on your tongue. A claim. “My Meguru,”  

“Yours forever. Always yours,” He hums, contented with the show of submission. “Oh, baby. I’ll take such good care of you know? Knot you nice and pretty. You’ll like I promise. Even alphas like taking my knot,” His hand slides under neath your sweater, slides just between the edge of your stockings and your bare skin. “But you’re an omega—my omega, and you’re perfect so you’ll love it won’t you?”  

You feel drunk on the euphoria. Lust, lovesickness, lenience, all of them make you want to melt entirely. It’s so unlike you. During other heats with other people, you always managed to anchor yourself somehow. You want to blame it on your biology.  

You’re  hardwired to want this in some ways.  

But now you’re old enough to know there’s more to it. More to why his touch is safe. What’s etched into your bones is Bachira’s name only. Only him. His knot, his alpha instinct, his fangs - they’re what transforms you into something beyond yourself. You want the alpha in Bachira, want him to sink his teeth into softness you’ve always kept inside of him only.  

“Want you,” You confess between bitten lips “Meguru, want you so bad,” 

 Nothing in your life has ever been so true. No words you’ve spoken have bore as much weight as that admittance. Bachira licks onto your mouth without subtlety, fangs sinking into the plush of your bottom lip with lustblown out in eyes.  

“Come on, then baby.” He tempts. “Let me give you whatever you want, mmkay?”  

Your agreement comes out more like a whine than a firm yes. Bachira laces his fingers together with yours in the way he used to when you were kids walking across the road. You can barely feel your legs as you hurry up the stairs, worn but loved photos of childhood life and home. There’s pinned up medals and photos and each step you climb makes your heart race a little faster.  

It dawns on you too late that Bachira is the love of your life. Your omega pines for it, longs for the intimacy of it. Alpha, alpha, alpha - Meguru. A hymn etched into your heart.  

He tugs you into his room and locks it quick, groping desperately for the lights before pinning you up against the door in one swift motion. You feel your back against the wood as his hands move all over you. He squeezes the soft curve of your hips, nails dragging light against your stockings as he hitches your leg up kissing you more. Sloppier, messier - breathlessly chasing your lips and never pulling away. Always running after you when you stop to breathe like he’s destined to be your only source of oxygen. You claw at him, your eyes fluttering shut, rolling your up against him as slick wets the inside of your tights.  

It’s embarrassing how wet you really are. It’s never been so bad So blatant. He laughs a little, the hard press of his cock against your core making you sputter. Giggly as he feels it, hand squeezing your knee tight where he holds you up.  

“So wet,”  He murmurs against your mouth. “You’re so wet baby. It’s making a mess you know? You’re not usually this messy are you? You’re not one for bad manners.”  

You whine against his lips. “Don’t make fun of me.”  

“Stupid. I’m praising you,” He replies. “Praising your perfect pussy the way it deserves. Always giving so much to me. Don’t you think it’s mean if I don’t give back just a little?”  

“Touch me,” You beg slowly losing your sense of shame. “Knot me. Fuck me. Wanna bond with you.” You sniffle, overwhelmed as you plant your face against his neck “Wanna be with you forever,”  

A low growl slips from his throat, makes you so weak you could break with the slightest touch. “Don’t say that lightly.”  

You claw at your sobriety. Overtaken with emotions or not, the desire to bonded—mated isn’t a suggestion from thin air. You want proof of him in your life forever, the shape of his teeth in your neck. It’s been so fucking long. You’ve pined for him for nearly your entire life. Clutching onto him is the only thing you can think to do.  

Pulling away, you search desperately for your reflection in his eyes, trying to show your utter sincerity.   

“I’m not,” You say with as much conviction as you can. Embarrassment makes your face hot. “I know I’m in heat but I…” Your lip trembles. “I’ve thought about it. I won’t regret. aI want you so much, Meguru. Bond with me.”  

He whines. “You’re so unfair. You can’t just say that and expect me to be fine. You don’t know how bad I want it. Want you. For so long.”  

“You have me,” You whisper, trying not to look away. “It’s hard for me to say stuff like that, alright? So if you get it bond with me.”  

“You’re so fucking cute.” He praises. “Of course I will. How can I say no when you ask me like that? So pretty, so,” He takes a deep breath. “So sweet. So perfect.”  

Your lungs expand with a breath. “Meguru,”  

“Wore something so cute only to get it all messy,” He hums. His hands pulling up on your sweater. “Who got this for you?”  

“Uni friends,” You mumble, heart picking up speed. Bachira draws the long sweater up on your form, sliding it up over your ass and waist. It’s shaded enough that the large wet spot isn’t obvious. His hands grip your ass, moan slipping from his mouth in appreciation for the touch. “T-they told me it’s in style.”  

He tugs the sweater off of your body and tosses it somewhere on the floor, leaving you mostly naked aside from your underwear. You paw at his shirt making he laughs warmly.  

“Wanna get me naked so bad?”  

Yes. You feel ashamed thinking about how much you wanna feel his skin. Bachira is all sinewy muscle under his clothes. He’s grown a little over the last four years, even though you used to be the same height. It’s a touch of it everywhere, broader shoulders and deeper musculature, a physique carved from so much training. The muscles of his torso make you swallow thickly, the promise of dark hair trailing from his stomach at the top of his pants.  

“You’re staring so much. I’ll get embarrassed.”  

You find your hands smoothing up his chest and feel aroused about how good it looks. Weird gratitude settles over you seeing your manicured nails on Bachira’s strong chest. Too pretty for an alpha, but sharp enough that you believe it. The thought of the two of you together sends you reeling with thoughts. You’ve always wanted it. Always wanted him.  

He only lets you admire him for so long. His hands go around to your back, unclasping your bra in one go. You let him take it off you - self-conscious in how he zeros in on your chest. Nipples hardening in arousal, his hands cup them and squeeze. The rough feeling and grip of his palms makes you gasp - harsh in the way you can only imagine someone who fucks alphas can be. Keening, you watching Bachira lean back in to kiss you briefly before leaving hot, wet kisses down your neck and chest.  

Before he gets any further, he drags you along to his bed. Manhandling you until you’re laying on your back on his sheets, he climbs over you with appreciation. His eyes trace your body before landing at your core, sopping wet from heat-addled arousal. You cover your face with your hands.  

Wordless, he grabs your tights and pulls them down from your body hard.  

There it becomes obvious, your wetness. Humiliation blooms in the pit of your gut as Bachira sits between your legs, pulling your them apart at the knee with complete and utter fascination. You’re wearing light colored panties - plain with silly patterns, pale yellow. Your arousal is no doubt visible, soaking beyond just the inset of your panties but the entire thing. Slick runs down your thighs, down your ass. It’s egregious, excess appropriately reflective of how you ache. Your body is wholly for a knot with how much of it there is.  

The longer Bachira stares, the more it pulses and throbs under his vision. You feel soaked from the waist down. “Is it always so wet…?”  

“It’s not… usually this bad.” You admit. Bachira growls something deep in his chest.  

Before you can protest, he rolls soaked underwear off you in one go and leaves you completely bare.  

He’s imposing, stood on his knees over you - nearly in a trance. Bachira pulls you up by your waist, his thigh supporting  your spine as he folds you up until your legs are in the air - bending down until your cunt is directly in front of his face. You gasp seeing his face between your legs. Both of his arms are secured around your thighs as he takes a sharp inhale. Slick drips down towards your belly because of the way you’re angled and bent. It’s humiliating seeing your legs overhead. He presses his cheek against slicked-soaked inner thighs.  

Holding you still like that, back off the bed nearly folded in half with only his own body to support you - he dives face deep into your cunt without a second of forewarning. Your whole being lurches at the sensation, the lacking of build-up going straight to your tender core.  

Bachira laps at your cunt like he’s starving for it. There’s no technique, nothing but sheer animalistic hunger as his tongue dives furiously into your sex - nose bumping and brushing your clit with each wet, forceful slide of his tongue, swallowing down as much of your slick with each go. You feel your body go weak, lightheaded at being held and ate so viciously. Arousal comes in waves until finds a pace for himself with little word of instruction other than desperate keening and vague asks for more. Your eyes are closed as tension draws in your stomach. His mouth finds your clit, sucking gently and letting the flat plane of his tongue smoth on the sensitive bundle of nerves over and over - sucking carefully.  

His face is red when you open your eyes to look at him slurp your pussy, slick up and into his throat as if its a life force. Your eyes lock and you whimper at how he smiles into your pussy, keeping rhythm. He hums against you as the feeling builds and builds and builds. Heat makes you lightheaded, your thighs trembling, feet pointed with your toes curling as you reach the inevitable end of your first orgasm. His arms are securing holding you and taking the weight off of your spine - both of them holding you tight. You see the veins flex in his forearms as he grips you. Something about it sends you careening off the edge.  

The first orgasm Bachira gives you happens like that. He makes you cum with your spine halfway up in the air, tension in your body going so tight before releasing all at once. Orgasm makes you crashland. You cum so hard, you’re blindsided. Tugging as from his grip, your thighs squish his face as you squirm, all the muscles in your lower body tremoring from release.  

“M-meguru, can’tcan’tcan’t,” You feel his mouth follow you through orgasm in what reverence. His tongue dips inbetween your folds, the only mercy you receive.  

All at once, he lets you down gently until your laid limp in his bed. His face is covered in slick and drool as you lay there gasping and twitching erratically in the aftermath of your first induced heat orgasm. You stare at him, dazed as he wipes his face with his hands then licks them clean.  

“You taste so fucking sweet,” He mumbles, awestruck. His hand comes down next to your head, nothing but pure adoration in his vision - fangs bared. The yellow gold of his eyes pins you to his bed. “I can’t get enough of you. Didn’t know anything could taste that good.”  

He presses his mouth to yours in a way that’s almost violent, holding your jaw so you can taste yourself on his tongue. When he’s pleased, he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek and all over your face. You can’t think of a single coherent string of thoughts, even after your first orgasm.  

Like a livewire, every place Bachira touches, lingers for minutes. Just his name, just his knot - the only things your brain can make space for so aroused.  

“Did I already fuck you stupid?” He asks, breathless laugh on his lips. “Aw, baby - we just got started you know? You can’t tap out so early,” He pats your thigh with sticky hand making you yelp and waking you up form your haze. “How can I make you my mate without your full attention, hm?”  

You blink at him, tears at your lashes at his face. Your heart feels strange, so relieved, so pleasant, you think you could die. The smallest, soberest part of you is happy to be with Bachira but your instinct is practically clawing at your chest begging for more.  

“Meguru,” You want to burst into tears but settle for soft sniffles. “Meguru, I love you. Love you, love you so much. I love you.”  

“Ehh? Why’re you crying dummy?” His voice is tender, so thoughtful. Bachira is so selfish while being so loyal at the same time it makes your heart sing. “I love you too, so so much. Are you crying ‘cause it felt good?” 

He leans into your space, letting your arms wrap around his neck with a sniffle. “It felt so good it was scary,”  

He smiles at you - beaming. You want to hold onto him forever. Your soul has never ached so much for another person in your entire life, You press onto him tight, chest squeezing against his as you pull him in for a hug.  

He laughs then, squeezing you in his arms before rolling around in the bed. The innocence of the gesture brings a quiet giggle to your lips as Bachira presses kisses all over you. Soft pecks on your shoulder, on your nape, at the crown of your head. “Wanna look at me this time, hm? Would it make you feel better?”  

You nod in his arms and he smiles at you again, so sweet. He’s different. His egoism is so present, so there - selfishness carving him into the man he is now. Bachira does as he pleases with you, but gives you these little mercy’s admits his ruthlessness that make you want to fold under his touch.  

He lays on his back and drags you along with him. You’re laid ontop of him, chest to chest - and he keeps you like that before gazing into your eyes so adoringly, you urge to look away. He holds your gaze, not intending to let you.  

“You’re staring too much.” You murmur.  

“I can’t look at you even though you’re so pretty? Unfair.” He says back just as fast.  

“You say embarrassing stuff so easily…”  

He smiles at you. “Because I mean it, dummy. There’s no one prettier than you,”  

“That’s not,” Your breath catches as you feel his hands grab your ass, pressing your face to his neck, scent glands next to your nose. “…ngh, it’s not..”  

“Don’t say it’s not true or I’ll get angry,” His voice is sing-songy as he gropes you with both hands, content to feel you as you rub your body against his desperately craving more touch. You want to be in his skin. “You’re prettiest to me.”  

“Meguru,” You whimper. “Meguru,”  

“Begging for my knot with such a sweet voice. How deceiving.”  The contrast in the tone of his voice versus his touch makes you long for him. “Do you want my cock so bad already?”  

You frown feeling bashful as you nod.  

“Ah, but you’ve never had a knot in here before have you? Not a real one,” He hums, voice thick with amusement. “So I have to open you up nice till you’re nice and soft on my fingers mmkay? Here, turn this way.” 

Bachira lays you on your side, letting you adjust so your arm can slide under him comfortable. He lays facing you, pulling you towards him until your legs slot together - one of your legs locked between his with the other on top. He’s face to face with you like this. He slides one of his arms under your back to pull you to him even further, the other reaching over around your thighs and sliding his digits against your slick cunt. Your own arm bent at the elbow, you hold onto Bachira’s face locking eyes with him. Hands splay at his face, hoping your expression is enough to get the points across. He smiles at you, fangs glinting out shiny as he stares back.  

No words are shared between you but you get the feeling he knows exactly what you want to tell.  

You feel his middle finger slide down until it catches on your entrance making you whine. He hums sogtly, forearm pressed against your thigh as he pushes his first digit into you slowly. Your lips meet again in something softer, heat stricken pining you moan as he sinks into your welcoming heat. His voice is a whisper against your skin.  

“Fuck, nghh - Meguru,”  

“Your body is made for this,” He says, awestruck and giggly. “It’s going in so easy. Needs my knot so bad it’s getting impatient and ready. So fucking wet,”  

You huff impatiently. Rarely are you so petulant and impatient. You want more, need him inside so much deeper. From the first time you had sex to now, you’ve never experienced this much longing to be penetrated. To be fucked hard and deep, hardwired in your subconscious.  

 It’s never been important until now, until Bachira. His first slides in and out so easily, you only start to feel it at two. You tuck against Bachira’s neck, feeling the shape of his fingers. They’re angular, bony but long and pretty. They reach into you deeper than you’re own even with just two.  

“There’s a spot that makes you feel good, right?’ He hums. You can feel the reverb of his voice from his chest. “Where is it… here?”  

He hits it almost instant, rubbing your gspot - lightly swollen from heat. You arch against him as Bachira places an appreciative kiss on your shoulder. “It’s there. I’ll touch it more for you, ‘kay.”  

So he does. He angles his fingers, his wrists in such a way that he can rub up against it in a beckoning gesture. Your clit throbs in response to the stimulation - sticky, honeyed want coiling in your gut and abdomens as you sensitivity skyrockets even higher. Pressure builds slower with his fingers, just two - pumping in and out of your soaking wet pussy noisily as Bachira concentrates, low lidded eyes. Pressing his lips to yours and swallowing your tiny whimpers. You feel like you’re going to burst when he adds a third finger in. You’re not expecting the stretch - not painful but full. Makes you feel even needier, canting your hips against the motion of his fingers.  

You cum again dully throbbing all over your body - the sensation snapping like something brittle - clean and even but obvious. Your cunt tightens, clamping down on Bachira’s ring, middle, and pointer and how deeply they reach inside of you. You’ve never cum like this before, never cum from the inside even during heat. Silken walls clamp down on his thick fingers never wanting him to go, only wanting more.  

The arousal is just strong enough to make you snap. You gasp, nearly biting his lips as you shudder and rut - trembling in the strong grip of Bachira’s arms. The praise he whispers against your hot skin makes you feel so wanted. Your brain chants for his cock, his knot so eagerly you don’t know how to get it across other than begging him until your voice gives. The omega in you whines, sniffles brattily when Bachira pulls his fingers from you leaving your cunt so sorely empty.  

“Fuck me,” You express, trying to keep your composure as best you can. “Can’t think.”  

“Eh? That’s a first,” He hums. He draws your hips to his, hand on your ass as his clothed erection is pinned up against your sticky sex. “You’re always overthinking with this pretty face but now you want my knot so much you can’t?”  

The words make you want to collapse, how mean he says them while still being sweet. 

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup. “I love you  

“Shh, shh - it’s okay,” He murmurs. If you were more there you’d know he’s merely teasing. “Don’t cry. Just have to stick beside me from now on okay? All mine. Gonna bite you and make it permanent so you can’t run away.”  

“Okay,”  

“And you can’t show how cute you are like this to anyone else, okay?”  

You sniffle. “Okay,”  

“Say it baby,” He echoes. “Say I’m yours and you’re mine.”  

So you repeat the words as best you can in this state, slurring your words. “I’m yours and… you’re mine.”  

He grins. “You’re so cute. So perfect. Ah, I’m getting jealous of other people just thinking about it.”  

You blurt the words out drunk off of the sensations in your body when you hear Bachira talk of jealousy. “I broke up with my last boyfriend because of you,” You mumble, inhaling his scent “He was really nice to me but I couldn’t get over you even though we were together for a year,” You let your eyes flutter shut. “It was just a few days ago. So, there’s nothing to be jealous over,”  

A long silence stretches between you at the confession as you listen to Bachira’s heartbeat pick-up pace until it’s a loud pump. The sudden change makes you concerned, pulling away to see what he’s thinking. You assume it was going to be something cheeky and playful like always, but when you look at him - he’s blushing full red. Completely bashful, eyes blown wide and blinking rapidly. You feel oddly amused at it as he presses his lips together, hugging you until you laugh.  

“You’re soo unfair. Ugh, how could you…ugh” He trails off to stare at you. “You love me?”  

You smile at him breaking out into a giggle. “A lot. It’s embarrassing.”  

He sighs blissfully content.  

“I can’t look at you while I bond with you but I want to when I knot you ‘kay? Wanna hold you really close.” 

“Meguru,”  

He whistles at the sound of his name on your lips, like it’s all you need to say. “Lay on your tummy baby. “ 

He moves aside to let you flip over until you’re laying flat on your stomach. You lift your hips up slightly to make yourself more accessible, burying your face in your arms crossed in front you. You feel anticipation build up in your body, thoughts complete clouded. Your incisors sink in your lower lip as you listen to Bachira unzip and take off his pants, wiggling your hips lightly to tempt him. His hand comes down to swat your ass in a playful gesture. You yelp.  

He’s quiet for a while, his hands coming onto your back. “What’s this?”  

Your eyes widen as his fingers brush over the spot. You hadn’t thought about it. Your tattoo. Shit.  

“…A tattoo,”  

“Of a bumble bee and a flower,” Bachira repeats, shit-eating grin audible. “What kind of flower?”  

“Kuroyuri.” You say, embarrassed. “Stands for love and curse.”  

“Oh you’re really that in love with me, hm? How old is this? It’s healed. You missed me so much? I’m so happy.” He says breathlessly, elation so obvious in his voice it makes you shy. “Tell me all about when I’m done fucking you, okay baby?”  

You bury your face away from him, feeling shy as he kisses the placement before moving along.  

The position doesn’t let you see Bachira’s cock. Instead you feel it, which makes it much more imposing than you ever thought possible. The weight, the heft, the thickness of it is makes your breath hitch as you finally feel it outside of the confines of his boxers. You don’t need to look at it, you can feel how massive it is. He slides it along the curve of your ass and you can sense it so obviously it makes your stomach churn. He slides it between your ass, pushing it through both cheeks but not penetrating and it stretches you. You can barely contain the shock in your voice, pussy throbbing at the idea of him being inside of you with something so unbearably big.  

He hasn’t even knotted you. How can he possibly be that big without a knot. Your voice trembles.  

“Meguru… you’re huge.”  

He laughs, breathless. Cocky and egoistic that sends your spine tingling like a solar flare. “You don’t like it?”  

“I’m a little scared,” You admit. “But I want it at the same time.”  

“Don’t be scared,” His voice is tender but his words are filthy. “You’re made for me. Your cunts all split open and soaking wet because it’s begging you for my knot, pretty. Just mine. You’ll feel so full with me. So don’t be nervous and let me in okay?”  

You breathe deeply shakily, eyes fluttering closed at the promise of it. “Okay, Meguru.”  

You find yourself thankful that you’re not looking at him, but at the same time - you’re unsure if it’s better. You have to focus in on the sensation. There’s nothing but posters on the wall for you to look at and your eyes are barely focused it. Every inch of your skin is dry kindle and Bachira is the lighter - the match, the spark that sends you reeling in the midst of your heat.  

Your heats are always drunken stupors, messy hormonal sessions. To you they’ve always been akin to intense inebriated sex that’s painful unless you cum a few times.  

But with Bachira your heat is all encompassing flame. It’s like letting the sun swallow you whole, sweat dripping down your spine. When Bachira pushes the fat head of his cock into your tight, wanting, needy fucking cunt - you cry so loud you might scream. Whats left of your sense snaps as your body throbs for cock, you push yourself back onto him with a groan. You want him to knot you, want him to fuck you full and cum deep inside and plug you up. Want him to make you so whole and he’s so good because he is. 

 You feel your fists tangle in the sheets, and then feel Bachira’s body slump over yours from behind. His hand falls over yours, squeezing it as the thick swell of his shaft pushes into you your pussy painfully slow and stakes its claim. You feel like an animal the way you give way to your desires.  

The sensations and scent in the room is so strong your eyes sting and your mouth waters, drool pooling at your lips as Bachira splits your pussy open completely on his fat cock. Everything is sweet,  coats your mouth as you take in a sharp gasp of air. You choke his name out from your lips, whimpering at the soft growl in his voice when he finally bottoms out. Inch by inch, veins of his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you.  

Your body is hypersensitive. You’re so wet, so out of your mind with that your thighs are trembling at the edge of an orgasm. If he moves the right way, you know you’ll cum instantly.  

He leans over your shoulder and you pick your head up weakly letting him lick into your mouth. “Gonna bond you. Gonna mark you and mate you and making you all fucking mine. Sink my fangs into your pretty neck, my pretty omega. You’re so precious baby. Make me so hard. I love you, I love you so much.”  

“Bite me,” Is all you can get out, your brain can barely think hard enough for anything else. “Please. Please bite me,”  

It’s sudden. Sharp. Exactly what you want.  

You feel the sensation of teeth in your neck and everything around you halts to honor it. An orgasm shatters you in the process of it as Bachira pulls out and thrusts his hips and you cum so hard you shake violently - hands fisted in the sheets and pussy spasming as you cum relentlessly. Bottomed out, you allow your body to take it all in before the feeling your bond starts to draw in so much clarity. Belly fully, muscles tight - everything slows the the whirring blades of a fan coming a halt or a car worshiping a red light. The world stops spinning, briefly - mind and soul and spirit melding together his fangs descent into your neck. You feel the sharpening teeth sink into the soft flesh of your nape and cry out at the dull sensation of pain, outweighed by the out-of-body euphoria.  

It’s like everything makes sense. Every moment, every concern, every heartbreak - every minute apart. Love like a nerve split raw, open, tender - make tears pool at your lashes and spill down your face as Bachira bonds with you and stays there long enough to penetrate. All endorphins, pleasure, pain. Something clicks steadily into place inside of you and makes sense of all of your mess. Everything you are. 

A sense of completeness like nothing you could ever know without him. You love him so much it swallows you whole.   

Bonding, a mark of permanence - can be rejected by the body. Bred into your secondary sex after years of evolution. A unique trait to alpha and omega sexes, whether same or opposite sex pairs. Bonds are equivalent to sharing yourself with another person. Weak bonds can be broken, and some bonds won’t take at all.  

When your bond with Bachira takes so easily some part of you just knows. Some place beyond instinct, beyond every thing in the world that defines you. All of you has always existed in part with Bachira. And this pleasure, this desire for closeness can only be derived from years of unconditional love.  

Whatever would happen of you, had you been born an alpha or beta, Bachira would be born alongside you and make you complete or you, him. The way the sensation connects you like an invisible thread is proof of that.  The ease of it. The desire between you is greater because of it’s exclusivity, because you prefer omegas and always will - but no one compares to Bachira regardless of sex or anatomy. He is yours because he is him, sweet smells and soft eyes and need.  

You can’t help but weep about it as you know he feels it too, secretions from his teeth dulling the pain from the wound as he finally pulls out from the mark and laps at the blood.  

You feel such intense relief, heat subsiding leaving only pleasure and warmth. .  

You love him so much you could stay like this. You love him so much nothing else in the world could ever sway you from it. You don’t care what it makes you. What it means. You love Bachira as he loves you - conventionally unconventional. Beautifully imperfect.  

Tears slip down your face as Bachira licks your wounds for you like always.  

“I’m yours, baby.” Bachira says, soft. Whispers your first name as he says it. “I love you so much. My whole life. Since I was little. Since you called out to me and let me show you my dribbling. I can’t stand being without you, you know? So don’t ever leave me,”  

You laugh a little, sobering. “As if I could.”  

“Wanna knot you and hold you, kay? Gimme a sec.”  

Your body whines at sensation of Bachira slowly pulling out before flipping you onto your back in missionary. He’s quick to do it. You glance at his shiny cock , light throb in your neck as he shoves the whole thing back in one go and making your sensitive hole cum all over again. Your own body is ridiculous to you. You’re making a mess on his cock and definitely of his bed in the process, gasping as your muscles spasm in your waist. 

“S-sorry,”  

“Don’t apologize for that, dummy.” He kisses you. “Here. Hold onto me.”  

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and let yourself slump into bed, whining as Bachira fucks you a few times - sloppy, wet thrusts noisy in the room around you. You feel them in your exhaustion, another wave of tension making your stomach burn. 

“Gonna, fuck—knot you, gonna knot you, ‘kay? Touch yourself for me.”  

“Knot me, Meguru.”  

Bachira bottoms out. You feel his cum flood your cunt - so thick it’s in a stream as the base of his thick cock swells inside your pussy. You’re already so stretched by his dick on its own, you can’t imagine the sensation of the real thing until you feel it.  

It throbs hotly inside of you, deep. The knot swells up until it’s fat enough to stretch your open, slick pussy even further. You feel it in spite of how wet you are, the sensation rubbing on your walls raw punching all the air out of your lungs as he cock fills you completely. You feel it in your throat, his knot in your belly plugging you full as you breathe.  

“Fuck,” Your voice breaks. “You’re so huge, what the fuck.”  

He pauses then laughs hysterically as he sinks into you unable to move. “Thanks! I’m pretty proud of it.”  

You chuckle tiredly. “How long does this last?”  

He hums. “An hour-ish?”  

Your eyes go wide. “Shit. Really?”  

“Uh-huh,” Bachira says happily, collapsing ontop of you. “And when it goes down I’m going to fuck you some more.”  

“Mercy… my stamina… Meguru I’ll die.”  

“No way. I’ve waited too long.” He says with a deep breath. “But I’ll let you rest for now.”  

You close your eyes, smiling. “Pfft. Thanks.”  

__  

Your back is going to give out.  

Athletes are frightening. Your body is covered in bite marks underneath the collar as you peel out of Bachira’s arms in the morning after. It’s 7am, and the sun still hasn’t risen since it’s the dead of winter. You stare at him, kissing his cheek as he lays - completely rested and healthy. Bastard.  

“Meguru,” You hum, stirring him awake. “I’m gonna run to the store and pick us up something to eat.”  

“Noooo,” He says, half asleep trying to wrestle you back into bed. “Stay here. With me,”  

“No,” You reprimand, peeling away from him. He whines out loud. “I’m sticky. I’m gonna borrow your loose clothes okay? I’ll be back soon.”  

“Booo,”  

Ultimately too tired to protest, you yawn and crawl out of your bed, scrambling to the shower after rummaging through tubs of clean, old clothes in Bachiras’s room and picking whatever you think will fit.  

You shower, scrubbing yourself inside and out. You feel apologetic using the products in the shower as you scrape cum out of yourself as best you can and scrub your body. Layers of sweat and slick between your thighs have dried down and feel incredibly unpleasant now that your sober and your heat is mostly settled or it will be for another few days. You’re thankful that Bachira’s childhood home is the second most familiar place in your life as it allows you to get clean in hot water without feeling awkward.  

Once you’re cleaned, you dry off and borrow Bachira’s lotion - rubbing into your skin and taking care of your appearance best you can. You examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, feeling sudden humiliation at your face. You’re practically glowing, and you reek of Bachira and fucked out omega even after the bath. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and thanking all higher powers that you don’t have to see your parents for a few more days.  

After gathering yourself in the bathroom, you check on Bachira one more time in his room and smile as sleeps softly before slipping downstairs. 

His mom hasn’t returned yet. Her shoes, jacket, and other belongings aren’t in the house and her gifts are where you left them. You feel thankful about that as your eyes search for your bag, still sitting on the couch where you left it. Shuffling through it, you pop some heat medication dry before doing anything else.  

You grab it. It still has some battery left, left on DND. You check the time only, deciding you can swipe later. Heading out the door quickly, you make sure to lock up using the key underneath the mat for your quick trip to 7/11.  

A brisk walk later in the frostbitten air, you enter the convenience store. A bored looking cashier nods at you as you smile flatly in return.  

You pick up a couple of things. XXL condoms, juice and soda water, some snacks and ramen - along with some easy hot foods that can keep you both alive until you can get a better meal. Bachira has a decent appetite but you don’t think he’ll be up for a while to eat proper. He likes to sleep in during vacations.  

“Ah, excuse—Bachira?”  

Your eyes widen as you meet eyes with the familiar stranger and his friend. You know both of these people.  

You could not have possibly met them at a worse time.  

“Isagi-kun…” You bow, awkwardly thinking of what ways you could end your life right there in the 7/11. “And this is…?”  

“Rin Itoshi. He prefers Rin,”  

“Rin-kun,”  

The taller, brooding one gives you a look, crinkling his nose a little. You want to die. Your gaze turns to Isagi which is not much better as he’s wearing the worst shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen in your life.  

“I see. Nice to meet you Rin-kun,” You say, looking away, “What are you two doing here? This is me and Bachira’s hometown.”  

“We’re supposed to visit him in a couple of days actually but decided to do a little sight-seeing first. There’s more of us but they’re asleep at the hotel.”  

You just nod, silence stretching between you before Isagi breaks it.  

“I’m glad the two of you made up,” He says. “When did you guys start to reconcile? I always felt really guilty after the whole mall incident. Glad to see you  both doing well,”  

Your brain moves too slow to lie. “Uh. Last night was the first time we saw each other in a few years,”  

His eyes widen. “So the picture he posted was…?”  

You squint. “What picture?”  

Isagi makes a guilty face, unsure of what to do. Before you can ask, Rin, pulls his phone out and shows you something.  

It’s you and Bachira in bed with you asleep in his arms - your bitemark and visible tattoo showing in the image as his hand cradles the back of your head while you’re cuddling him in your sleep.. You’re both mostly covered by the sheets. The only caption is an emoticon and you’re not tagged. You blink, wiping your eyes. It’s so like him, you aren’t sure if you should laugh or cry. You sigh deeply instead.  

“You didn’t know?”  

“Haven’t checked my phone since..” You trail off. He’s so reckless. “Thanks for uh… showing me. I’m gonna head back but you and your team mates should come visit sometime. I cook hotpot for New Years so it’d be nice to have you all.”  

Isagi smiles amicably, politely ignoring the situation. You’re thankful your partners friend has so much tact unlike he himself. “Of course. I’ll ask Bachira for your info. Keep in touch”  

“Of course. Good luck on the World Cup qualifiers.”  

They both thank you for that before you turn and depart with whatever left of your dignity.  

__  

You check your phone on the way back to his place, seeing your notifications in shambles. Fifty messages total, some from family and most from friends congratulating you. You ignore all of them for now, especially the ones from your brother - not willing to know what they say.  

In your despair, you don’t notice the new pair of shoes when you open the unlocked door of Bachira’s childhood home either.  

“Oh!” Yu-sans voice is just as welcoming as it always is as you stare at her in the doorway awe-struck. She smiles at you incredibly knowingly as a new wave of mortification sinks in. “You’re back. Meguru is in the shower.”  

“Ah,”  

She gives you a long grin, letting the silence settle first before breaking out into laughter so loud it startles you. You can feel your body grow hot with shame, wishing the world would open from the ground up and swallow you.  

“You know I always thought something like this would happen eventually,” She hums, prepping the flowers you bought last night for a vase. “I’m grateful it happened when you were both adults at least.”  

“Yu-obasan..”  

“Oh don’t be so cold. Yu-san is fine. Or maybe kaa-san now that you’re both together.” She hums. “Anything but oba-san is fine. Makes me feel old. You know that.”  

You make an embarrassed face, sighing as you set your things down at the couch. You wanted to do stuff like this in order. Though you never really imagined you and Bachira together, you always thought for a serious relationship you’d have more of yourself together.  

“Uh,” You flush as you sit at the counter. Yu-san gives you a small smile, head tilted to one side as she arranges the flowers you’ve bought her. “It’s late to do this, but uhm… thank you for giving birth to Meguru and for taking care of me as if I were your own child all this time.” You feel your ears turn hot as you say the rest. “I promise to take good care of Meguru and you for as long as I live, any way I can and I hope you can accept our relationship and give us your blessing.”  

You pause, afraid to look up for a minute until the silence stretches on for a touch too long. When you look up, she’s smiling. Grinning. Meguru looks so much like her. Her laughter bubbles through the room airily like champagne.  

She comes around to hug you tight, startling you from where you sit, her hand on your head. “Asking my blessing… I don’t know how my Meguru got so lucky to find such a responsible kid. Of course you have it. As if you need to ask. Please do take good care of him and yourself. This is your home too, okay?” 

You smile before being startled by another familiar voice. “Uwah, I go shower and you’re having a hug without me.”  

“Come join us then!”  

“Yay! Group hug!” 

Bachira hollers as he squeezes you and his mom in a hug, suffocating you. It’s incredibly embarrassing so in some ways it feels incredibly familiar. They’re really too similar some times.  

When they pull away, Yu-san plays a motherly kiss to both your face and Bachira’s. “I’m going to go put these up in my room and hang out in the studio for a bit. You two should have a date, alright? It’s rare you have time like this.”  

“’Kay,” Bachira says, watching her walk up stairs before shouting. “Love you!”  

“Love you too!”  

You watch her disappear up the steps before seeing Bachira again sobered.  He smiles at you lovingly, but you pout - suddenly remembering this morning.  

“Ehhh?? Why are you making that face? Shouldn’t we be super lovey-dovey right now?”  

“The picture you posted,” You say, tugging at his shirt with your head down. “That’s too sudden. You’re a big athlete now, and—“ 

“So? There’s no one for me but you. I don’t care who knows. I want everyone in the entire world to know even though I don’t want them to actually see you.” He murmurs, crowding into your space. “I want everyone to know you’re mine. Don’t be mad, okay?”  

“I spoil you too much,” You say, because it’s true and it’s enough to make you not mad at all.  

He kisses you then. He tastes like the fruity toothpaste kids use and home when he does pulling back with a warm smile. You feel flush but keep your eyes on his face.  

“It’s the first time we’ve kissed just to kiss,” You hum. He smiles mischievously.  

“The second time, silly.”  

When the realization dawns on you, you gasp - smacking his chest in shock in dismay.  

You thought he blacked out for that kiss when you were seventeen! Bachira breaks out into giggles above you.  

“Meguru!” You exclaim, feeling huffy as he pulls you into his arms and begs for forgiveness. 

Meguru. Homesickness makes you ache, his name in your mouth the only remedy.  

Meguru. Your one and only.  

[iraprince]

That chart of your GW2 ocs has compelled me so much. what is gw2. how do you make gay plants in it

guild wars 2 is my favorite mmo of all time! it's free to play, tho if u ever do end up paying for the expacs/living world seasons and stuff they all have flat costs, no monthly subscription ever. (this is what i really like about it, bc games w subs stress me out... if something has a sub and i don't play every day i feel like i'm wasting money or something lol vs gw i can fall off the wagon for weeks/months and no harm done)

ANYWAY our gay plants are one of the playable races -- they're kind of gw2's version of elves, loosely, but they're called sylvari and imo they're much cooler. rather than being "born" they just Wake Up as fully formed adults from the pods of a magical tree and gain mmmmost (but not all) of their consciousness/general understanding of the world from a shared dream that contains the memories and life experience of the sylvari who have come before them, and at the beginning of the plot sylvari as a people have only existed for like. ~20 years, which i think is a really, really compelling hook. also i'm being serious and textual abt the gay thing, arguably the most central sylvari npc is a lesbian and her relationship w her ex is plot important, one of the starter missions u can choose as a sylvari centers around helping a gay couple and the dialogue is Really Insistent abt not letting it be interpreted as "wow they're good friends!!" etc etc

there's also an Evil Faction of sylvari called the nightmare court who feel the dream is overly controlling/sanitized and want to "liberate" sylvari by balancing out the experiences contained in the dream w more negative and painful ones instead -- in-game more often than not they're written pretty flatly as cackling puppy-kicking supervillains but i think they're really interesting lol, a huge chunk of my + marina's ocs are either current or ex nightmare courtiers (including merrit and glyndwr!)

okay wait wait wait im getting distracted and infodumping u can learn all this stuff yourself by getting into the game. gotta rein it in. uhhh let me leave u w screencaps of a bunch of our ocs so u can see some character creation options bc they're so cool

also hey furries: fuicking excellent beast race with close to no sexual dimorphism.

(the one on the left in this pic is an m model and on the right is the f model. the main difference between charr gender models, literally, is how fluffy their tails are. charr fucking rule)

[sugaryplum]

broken ankles and middle names

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader summary: after a silly accident involving the hogwarts' infuriating moving stairs, you're found by a certain quiet boy (whom you not-so-secretly adore). warnings: no good exposition whatsoever, language mistakes, chaotic+flirty reader i want to be her!!! notes: this is part of a bigger story that i will probably never finish writing, let alone publish, so if it seems completely out of context, that's why. this is also the first thing on this tumblr blog and the first written thing i'm ever showing to tumblr besides poetry!!🤭 i hope you like it 🤍 let me know

“what on earth happened to you?”

the situation is silly and absurd, so you laugh, despite the sharp pain that almost makes your eyes water. theo is kneeling beside you with a confused expression on his face, looking from your swollen ankle to your face.

“can you help me to the hospital wing? i can’t walk.”

all you have to do is look at him and he carefully picks you up from the cold floor. you put your arms around his neck for support. “i was walking up the stairs. and then the stairs moved. and then i fell. you know, i’m glad you’re here, there’s not a single soul on the corridors at this time of day, i was just going to get some books, i have free period–”

“you should watch where you’re walking.” his voice sounds like honey and if you weren’t basically laying in his arms right now, your knees would definitely go weak. but you act unbothered. “maybe i should’ve. but then you wouldn’t carry me. maybe this is a win after all.”

“you’re infuriating.” the small smile that cracks on his face doesn’t go unnoticed, especially when you can see his lips from up close.

“infuriating is my middle name.” there’s a lot of things you can see from up close. his eyelashes are long and he has more freckles than you thought. you like how the ends of his hair twist and fall on his forehead.

“annoying.”

“middle name.”

“stop with the middle names.”

after no more than a minute of silence you speak up again. “you’re so quiet.”

“you think so?” a normal person who doesn’t talk to theodore on the daily basis, probably wouldn’t be able to tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. but you are not a normal person. you pay way too much attention.

you come up with a response and giggle before you even get the chance to say it. “you could say that quiet is your middle nam–”

“if i dropped you right now, i bet you'd be whining like crazy.”

“there’s no need to test that.” you hold on to his neck a little tighter. “besides, you’re lucky i’m not whining right now. i’m in enormous amounts of pain.”

“i can tell. your ankle is twice its normal size.”

“you seem to know my ankles pretty well.” theo chuckles more audibly at your words and your heart flutters.

“that's my secret. i've been staring at them since fifth year.”

you gasp, pretending to be shocked. “i never knew my ankles were so desirable! now you got me worried, that fall might’ve been a threat to my beauty…”

“oh, very much so. you're lucky you had me there to carry you and take care of you in such a tragic moment.”

you never thought hogwarts' insanely big castle was exactly convenient. you’re constantly late for classes, walking takes up half of your daily life and you never know what is creeping around the corner. but now, when you’re being carried through it by the boy you like so much, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise?

“how far away is that wing?” you ask in a whiny tone just to get this attention, but in your mind and in your heart you thank merlin for the long corridors.

“don't you dare even start to complain now, after i carried you all this way.”

“i’m not complaining about you, i’m complaining about the castle. although i’m sure i could find some complaints about you…”

“oh?” he looks at you, slightly amused. “go ahead, do your worst.”

“well, for starters, you make weird comments about my ankles.”

“your ankles are my favorite thing about you.”

“that’s an insult.”

“you’re an insult.”

“MIDDLE NAME.”

he sighs and he calls you insufferable and you smile. you can expect the hospital wing right around the corner, but you wouldn’t mind staying in the pretty boy’s arms for a little longer.

[aethon-recs]

Tomarrymort Advanced Pack – 12 Longfic Recs

If you’ve made your way through the Tomarrymort Starter Pack and Intermediate Pack reads, here are 12 beautifully written, timeless fics that are Tomarrymort on hard mode for when you’re ready to dive into something that will really challenge your every reading muscle. This selection of fics features some of the most skilled writing I’ve come across in the entire fandom, and I love how these authors tackle incredibly complex subject matter and plotlines and characterization choices with such bold and unflinching perspectives.

Please mind all tags (including CCNTW, explained here) as you may find some themes within some of these fics difficult or challenging to read for a variety of reasons.

This is Part 3 of a 3-part series (see here for Part 1 and Part 2). I hope you get as much enjoyment from reading these additional 3.1 million words of incredible Tomarrymort longfic as I have!

*

Tomarrymort Advanced Reads

ǟʟʍǟɢɛֆȶ by eldritcher (M, 134k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Harry and Dumbledore team up with Voldemort to save the magical world from a catastrophic threat. Why I rec it: Eldritcher delivers one of the most epic love stories of a lifetime — with Harry and Voldemort surviving a trip to the moon and back, and Harry’s love for Voldemort transcending time and space after Voldemort makes the ultimate sacrifice to save the world and, against all odds, return to Harry. The prose is absolutely transcendent — amongst the best I’ve encountered not only in fanfic, but in all of fiction I’ve ever read. I can’t say enough about how much I love Elditcher’s writing style and how beautifully the story unfolds — there’s a very nice lyrical rhythm underlying all the sentence structure and word choice in the fic that flows like nothing else I’ve read before.

Anabiosis by @itsevanffs (E, 32k, WIP)

Setting: Canon Divergence Pre-Book 1 Premise: If Voldemort resurrects early and takes a teaching job at Harry’s primary school. Why I rec it: This is one of the best and most realistic and gutting depictions I’ve ever read of the quiet tragedy of Harry’s pre-Hogwarts years growing up experiencing severe neglect and an absence of love throughout his entire childhood. @itsevanffs did a magnificent job of capturing Harry’s limited POV and all the fluttering hope his still-trusting heart holds when he meets Mr Riddle, the first teacher who’s ever treated him with kindness. My heart ached so much for Harry throughout this fic, and the emotional arc in this story has continued to haunt me for a very long time afterwards.

Eight Days a Week by @vestiges-of-light (E, 802k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 7 Premise: If Voldemort captures Harry shortly after his sixth year, which leads to an unlikely truce and eventual partnership that ends up saving the magical world. Why I rec it: This fic combines a sprawling political epic with an incredibly extensive exploration of kink. The author asks a great question in the tags: "Why is only vanilla sex literary?" — and this fic does a fantastic job of proving that messy, filthy, raw sex scenes don’t have to be made sanitized or palatable for mainstream consumption in order to have just as much of a place in a plot-driven, serious longfic as vanilla sex does. Against the high-stakes backdrop of international political intrigue, there’s a very nice domesticity to Harry and Voldemort’s relationship, and how much they trust each other and can be stripped bare and vulnerable in front of each other is very poignant and touching to read about.

Embryo by @cannibalinc (NR, 28k, WIP)

Setting: Time Travel (1940s) Premise: If mysterious new transfer student Harry appears in Tom’s sixth year in a state of near complete amnesia. Why I rec it: One of the defining character traits of Tom Riddle is that he’s an absolute genius — the most talented academic mind to ever walk through the doors of Hogwarts — and this fic absolutely delivers on that aspect. Told from Tom’s POV, this fic is like reading a complex multidisciplinary text spanning philosophy and physics and mathematics and magical theory, all interconnected by the mystery of how Harry appeared and where he came from and why he is so utterly forgettable to everyone but Tom.

found by @honbug (E, 112k, WIP)

Setting: Non-Magical AU Premise: If Tom grows up in a world with no magic, but has had strange recurring dreams his whole life — dreams of a boy with green eyes and a scar, dreams of a dark graveyard and magical snakes and other mysterious things. Why I rec it: The character work done in this fic is absolutely breathtaking — one of the best character studies of Tom Riddle I’ve ever come across. This is a Tom who grew up without magic, but is no less cold and vicious and psychopathic and teetering on the edge of madness. The story arc follows Tom from his early childhood through his rise as a ruthless leader in an organized crime syndicate not unlike the Death Eaters — all the while that he’s haunted by dreams of Harry, his Harry, even as the dreams start to drive him to the brink of insanity.

how large the teeth by MaidenMotherCrone (E, 257k, complete)

Setting: Voldemort Wins AU Premise: If Harry grows up as an outcast in a world where Grindelwald and Voldemort have already won long before he is born, but he’s still the subject of a prophecy that designates him as their world’s savior. Why I rec it: The worldbuilding is so exquisite and complex in this fic — the author did a spectacular job at completely reimagining the wizarding world from the ground up if the Dark Lord were to win a long time ago and how their extremely inequitable society would subsequently be structured. Harry’s defiance throughout is lovely, and his growing entanglement with Voldemort adds to all the high-stakes and risky moves that he makes throughout the fic. The plotline is very action-packed — a lot of complex plot threads are interwoven throughout the story, with an undercurrent of revolution and discontent simmering under the surface until it explodes in a glorious finale.

In Willing Sacrifice by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 1,197k, WIP)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 4 Premise: If Harry finds Voldemort in Riddle Manor the summer before his fourth year, and enters into an unlikely alliance with him before returning to school that year. Why I rec it: This fic covers so much ground — at 1.2 million words (so far!), it’s the most detailed rewrite of canon starting from book 4 that I’ve ever come across, weaving in plenty of magical theory and political intrigue as Voldemort takes Harry under his protection initially in a mentor capacity. The relationship between Harry and Voldemort unfolds in such a beautiful way in this fic — with Harry growing to fall in love with Voldemort, despite all of Voldemort’s murderous and violent qualities, without losing an ounce of his humanity or the inherent goodness inside of his heart along the way.

Lover's Spit by @blogalinda, @k3uuu (E, 88k, WIP)

Setting: Non-Magical AU Premise: If Harry and Tom grow up in a small town together in northern England, and Tom has harbored an obsession for Harry ever since primary school. Why I rec it: An absolutely stunning coming-of-age story set in modern times. This story is striking in so many different ways. It perfectly captures the voice of fringe internet communities in such an authentic way. It also poignantly captures the social isolation and erosion of privacy from living in a small town where gossip spreads like wildfire, and how the internet amplifies these dynamics. At the core of the story is a really sweet love story between Tom and Harry that I am literally obsessed with — every single one of their interactions is so tender and pure — and it’s such a startling contrast to how Tom’s internet persona is portrayed that makes the sweetness all the more heartfelt.

Mi Aedijekit by @kitastrophea (M, 282k, WIP)

Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Harry is captured by Voldemort and placed under the Draught of Living Death, only to awaken in the far future where Voldemort has ruled over their world for over a thousand years. Why I rec it: A linguistic and sociological tour de force. When Harry wakes up from his magical coma over a thousand years into the future, the world has been entirely transformed, and the skill and effort that the author undertook in fleshing out a society where there’s been a thousand years of cultural change and evolution in language can’t be understated. One of the most unique and fun aspects of the story is learning the new vocabulary of the future alongside Harry for the first time. I love how the fic examines how even Voldemort gets bored with immortality after a millennia of ruling — and how, even with a thousand years separating them and memories of the earlier times scattered to the wind, Harry and Voldemort are still inextricably drawn together.

Of Kings, Of Pawns, and Of Men by @ambivalens999 (E, 129k, WIP)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 5 Premise: If Voldemort ends up in Harry’s body and Harry ends up in Tom Riddle’s body after a bad encounter with the dementors at the beginning of book 5, and they can’t figure out how to swap back. Why I rec it: This is such an interesting take on the bodyswap trope, which is given a very serious and plotty treatment here. For fear of the safety of his friends, Harry has to go along with returning to his 5th year at Hogwarts in Tom Riddle’s body and being sorted into Slytherin house, while Tom passes himself off as Harry Potter. There’s a mystery behind the depth of Tom’s knowledge and familiarity with Harry, as he knows more about Harry than even Voldemort should. Is it the scar horcrux? Is it Voldemort? Is it something else entirely? The inherent combativeness and magnetism between Harry and Tom keep the tension high as they push each other’s buttons and circle around each other like wolves trying to establish dominance.

Phobia by @katsitting (E, 48k, complete)

Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Voldemort captures Harry and brutally tortures him to the point of breaking. Why I rec it: This fic does not sugarcoat Voldemort’s capacity for cruelty and sadism in any way, and I admire the author’s commitment to depicting the most horrific of scenarios. Having read countless fics with this setup, I’ll be honest, the depiction in this fic is probably the most likely outcome of any Voldemort-captures-Harry scenario. They do not fall in love. It is not a fun time for Harry. There is gore; there is brutal prisoner torture; there is extremely extensive non-con. I found it very raw and unvarnished — not an easy read, but a very memorable and evocative one. And yet, despite the themes of darkness explored in this fic, it ends on a note of hope.

The Foul (part 1) / The Great (part 2) by @meles-merrivale (M, 24k, complete)

Setting: Time Travel Premise: If Harry gets thrown back in time a thousand years into the past, and does whatever it takes to stay alive until he can meet up with Voldemort again. Why I rec it: This is a fantastic depiction of the slow descent into madness following a disastrous time travel accident and what a thousand years of immortality does to one’s sanity. It’s also a great exploration of the time travel paradox and whether anyone has the power to change the past, or if pivotal historical events are, by their very nature, predetermined. By the time Harry encounters Voldemort again, he is a shell of the person he used to be, but gradually, he finds more of his original humanity and spark for life the more his relationship with Voldemort progresses.

*

[borbygorlinbbqworld]

I loved the boss story. Would be cool to expand a part 2 with the reader and Nolan 👀

Please find Part 1 on my page!

---

Thanks, Boss! 2

The wedding reception had been wonderful. Kate's coworker had written an amazing, romantic speech about his bride to be that had admittedly brought her to tears. She blamed the hormones from recently having her quadruplets, but a part of her suspected it was a bit more than that.

Her boyfriend, Chris, had abandoned her at the dinner table to keep doing shots at the bar. Not that unusual from every night he was home with her, honestly.

"Mind if I take a seat?"

Kate looked up to see her attractive boss, Nolan. His broad shoulders filled out his suit nicely, but it was his warm smile that did it for her. She moved her purse from the chair next to her. "Not at all, please."

"I don't mean to sound inappropriate at all, being your boss and all. But you look absolutely stunning tonight, Kate."

Her cheeks heated.

She didn't have the heart to tell him what a nightmare it was trying to find a dress to contain her massive breasts; breastfeeding quadruplets had left her popping out of an M Cup on a good day, and the dress she wore tonight was barely hanging on. Even the nursing bra she wore underneath creaked, as if threatening to tear.

Worst off, she had pumped not long before getting to the wedding, but her breasts felt fuller by the minute.

Yet she never felt embarrassed about any of that when she was with him. Nolan had a calming and understanding presence about him that was genuine and made her feel safe.

The way a man ought to make his woman feel.

"Chris is a very lucky man." The comment sent a heat through Kate, and her breasts throbbed with fullness. Nolan tilted his head to the side. "Where is he, anyway?"

"At the bar, getting shots." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He doesn't seem to think he's so lucky. Tied down to a woman with four children, after all."

"His children."

Kate shrugged. "He doesn't care."

Nolan shook his head and raised his glass of pinot, gesturing for her to do the same. "Well, cheers to his knockout of a wife that he doesn't deserve."

She couldn't help but snicker. She cheered him with her own wine, and they both took a sip.

"He really doesn't know how damn lucky he is."

Kate looked back at her boss. His large brown eyes were deep, soulful, and a slight rouge glazed his cheeks. No wonder he was being so forward; he was a little intoxicated.

"He's not that lucky, Nolan..."

He shook his head. "I disagree."

Kate snorted and put her hands on her hips. The action jostled her breasts, and for the first time, she noticed her stoic, super polite boss stare down at them. Yet unlike when other men stared, she didn't want him to stop. His pupils dilated, which made her nipples harden with arousal, something she knew he could see through her thin nursing bra.

The longer he stared, the more she noticed how wet she was getting. She remembered just how much milk he had drank from the bottles in his office; would it be too much to want him to grab her breasts and feed right from the source? To want him to fill her with children?

Holy hell, she was horny for her boss!

Blushing, she tried to turn the thoughts by looking away. Still, his gaze was warm and inviting, and it felt awfully nice to be wanted by someone like him.

"How do you figure Chris is lucky?"

Nolan took a gentle sip from his glass. "For starters, his girlfriend has what have to be the most perfect breasts in the world. Massive pillows of comfort with enough milk in her to feed her family and an entire orphanage."

Kate couldn't help but feign offense. "An orphanage?!"

He was right of course; as it was, she could feel the nursing bra she was wearing digging tighter and tighter as she filled up with more and more milk. Blue veins pulsed the surface, begging her to nurse or pump, or else the tight red dress she was in was going to be dripping. Yet she couldn't help but stare back as Nolan continued.

"You donate your excess milk to children in need at hospitals because you adore kids. If the hormones you give off all the time are to be trusted, you want a hell of a lot more of them, too."

Right again. Her cheeks flushed. "I want to have like... eight..."

A playful, almost naughty smile played upon his lips. "Eight kids, or eight more kids?"

Good God, with how lusty his voice was, she didn't know anymore.

"If it were me," Nolan continued, "I wouldn't have made my girlfriend who just gave birth to quadruplets go back to work unless she wanted to. I would have made sure she and our kids had everything they needed while we continued to build our family with plenty of breastfed children. And, as long as she was okay with it, I would make sure she was always pregnant."

Oh fuck. Kate tried crossing her legs to hide the fact that her panties were soaked as she stifled a moan. Her breasts felt so incredibly tight in the bra and dress, it was hard to breathe.

"I can't lie, seeing you pregnant at work was a massive distraction for me, Kate. You're like a fertility goddess tantalizing me, because I know I can't have you anywhere close to how much I want you."

Suddenly, with the sound of two snaps and a slight tearing sound, Kate lurched forward under the weight of her breasts as she let out a moan.

Looking down at them, she realized the clasps on her nursing bra must have broken completely under all the extra weight of her engorged breasts. And when they did, her cleavage came spilling out, and her dress had ripped to make more space for her massive mammaries.

But she didn't care. Her nipples were hard from arousal, and the dark pink meat from her areolas were spilling out from the dress. Everything Nolan had said excited her, and her body was ready.

"I knew you were looking a little full." He smirked, but stared down at her breasts affectionately. "Do you want my jacket to cover up?"

She shook her head and got to her feet, her freed breasts jostling and audibly sloshing around the milk. She took his hand and pulled, leading him away from the table, ignoring the stares she got from others who had noticed her dress mishap.

"Everything okay?"Nolan asked once they had gotten to the parking lot.

Kate nodded, the action finally making one of her nipples pop out. Cherry red and dripping, she knew her boss would stare, and she was right.

"I choose you."

"Hmm?"

"I am so horny, Nolan. For you, for that life that you want. I need you to get me pregnant. I need you to keep getting me pregnant, even if it means twenty or thirty kids." There was no room for embarrassment anymore. She pressed her massive leaking breasts against his chest and looked up at him pleadingly. "Please?"

He took her engorged mammaries in his hands and gently massaged them. Each time his fingers hit a gland, a spurt of milk dampened his shirt until he was near soaked.

"Poor thing, you're so full..." He leaned down and lapped at the small river her breast had made as Kate let out a load moan. "Did you need me to nurse on them while I fuck you in the car?"

----

🐮❤️

[fantasyescapes17]

Wings (Part 3)

Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Genre: Mingyu x Female!reader. Regency!AU. You are Jeonghan's sibling so your last name is Yoon but the reader has no other physical characteristics.

Warnings: Discussions of social anxiety, kinda sleazy Baron, smoking (don't smoke kids, the characters in this story are from a time when they didn't know how bad it was for their health)

Word Count: 6.1k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Series Masterlist [You WILL need to read Patience, the earlier installment in this series first in order to understand the character dynamics in this story. Reading Candle before this is also strongly recommended.]

You were determined that the Hessington's ball would be your grand societal redemption. 

You spent most of Saturday preparing yourself physically and mentally for the evening ahead. Mr. Kim had written out a list of potential conversation starters, compliments, and other helpful notes and tips for you to practise with. You read and memorised his notes thoroughly. Mr. Kim's bold penmanship had almost become more familiar to you than your own handwriting. 

Your first foray into London society had been clumsy and poorly thought through. But you were reborn, you had learned from your mistakes, and you could not possibly be more prepared. 

Of course, there was one small aspect of your life that no amount of preparation could ever help you overcome.

"I insist on continuing to chaperone you myself," your mother announced firmly. 

You bit your lip. "Mother, there is really no need-"

"There is every need," she said. The carriage rolled down the street towards the Hessingtons' manor with only the two of you in it. Your brother and sister-in-law would be attending the ball but to avoid your mother's ire, they rode in a separate carriage. 

"Jeonghan is very well suited to make introductions for me to the eligible gentlemen," you protested weakly.

"I will not hear of it. Why should I trust that man to find you a good husband? He certainly did nothing useful for your elder sister. Now, I have heard that Baron Wright is on the lookout for a bride. He was courting Miss Hong earlier, but naturally she ruined herself so he is very much available."

You blinked. You had heard of Miss Hong's misfortunes from your sister-in-law. 

"Was he not the one who spread the rumours that ruined Miss Hong?" you demanded. 

Your mother frowned. "And why should that matter?"

You were silent. It was no use arguing with your mother. She always had to have the last word and frankly, it was easier to simply let her have it. 

The carriage rolled to a stop and you took a deep breath as you descended. The familiar nerves and anxiety in your chest slowly began to build when you saw the number of fashionable people walking towards the entrance. 

"Don't lean on your left leg so much," your mother hissed in your ear. She had seized your arm in a painfully tight grip. "If you limp, people will ask questions. Stand straight."

Your mother's death grip on your arm was not helping your breathing. You forced a smile on your face as the Hessingtons welcomed you at the entrance of the manor. Their ballroom was smaller than the Grahams' and consequently felt less intimidating but more suffocating. 

Your mother's fingers dug harder into your arm. 

"You look flustered," she hissed again. "People will notice. Relax and smile prettily, not as though someone is forcefully pulling your cheeks apart."

Your chest felt tighter and tighter. 

"I am trying-"

"Miss Yoon! Mrs. Yoon!" a gentleman's voice greeted you loudly. 

It would be an understatement to say that relief flooded through every single cell of your body at the sound of Mr. Kim Mingyu's voice. His deep voice and charming smile was to you what a lifeboat would be to a man drowning at sea. Your shoulders relaxed and you beamed up at your handsome saviour. 

"Mr. Kim," your mother greeted him with a simpering smile. "How lovely to see you."

He nodded politely at your mother. "And you, madam. But I confess nothing can be more lovely than seeing your daughter. May I have the pleasure of your first dance, Miss Yoon?"

You did not give your mother the opportunity to interfere. You instantly placed your hand in his. 

"Of course, Mr. Kim."

He smiled and whisked you away from your mother just in time to join the dancing that was about to begin. Mr. Kim was a considerate dancer. You allowed him to take the lead and he leaned closer to speak to you in a hushed tone. 

"Not a great start to the evening?" Mr. Kim asked you gently. "You already look a little worried."

"My mother is not helping," you admitted with a sigh. "With her chaperoning me, I have a real voice in my ear to criticise me in addition to the one inside my head."

"I consider it my duty to help you silence both voices," he replied with a grin. 

"We may be able to silence the one in my head yet, but my mother? She is beyond even your capabilities, Mr. Kim," you teased him. 

Mr. Kim looked playfully affronted. "Do you think I am unfamiliar with your mother? You forget that I have years of experience orchestrating your sister's social appearances. Indeed, I am one of the few men responsible for preventing your mother from making her a match. I shall be very disappointed if your sister and Seungcheol do not have a special mention for me at their wedding reception."

You giggled. "Perhaps they will. But I hope you will not employ the same tactics with me. We are not aiming to ruin my prospects. I intend to find my husband."

"We can find you a husband while also keeping your mother away from you."

"An ambitious goal. If you can achieve it, then you shall certainly have a special mention at my wedding reception," you promised him. 

Mr. Kim grinned down at you. 

"I have a certain magical touch when it comes to these matters," he replied. "Look! It is your first dance at tonight's ball and you are already dancing marvellously and having a normal conversation with me. I dare say you look almost confident, my dear Miss Yoon."

You stared up at him. While wrapped up in Mr. Kim's smooth words and following his comfortable lead, you had almost forgotten that you were in the middle of a crowded ballroom with people watching your every move.

"I feel relaxed with you," you admitted. "But I must replicate this success with other gentlemen before I can congratulate myself."

"I promise you shall. Now; our dance will come to an end soon, and I think it is important that we choose your next dance partner carefully to prevent any relapses."

You glanced around the room nervously. "I think my mother may expect me to dance with Baron Wright this evening. She was talking about him earlier."

Mr. Kim's eyes widened. "Terrible idea. I think you should start with someone simpler- allow me to make the necessary introductions. Mr. Wen Junhui is a businessman and he travels frequently in Asia with his business partner, Mr. Xu. He delights in talking about his travels. If you can only ask him a few polite questions about them, he will talk about them long enough to keep you occupied for the entire dance."

You took a deep breath. The idea of dancing with anyone other than Mr. Kim was nerve-wracking but you had to do it. You trusted him; his advice had not failed you so far. 

The dance came to an end and you followed Mr. Kim off the dance floor. He swiftly and expertly led you away from your waiting mother and towards a pair of gentlemen that stood near a refreshment table. 

"Mr. Wen! Allow me to introduce you to Miss Yoon. She is the youngest sister of Mr. Yoon Jeonghan and I have taken it upon myself to find her next dance partner," Mr. Kim said brightly. 

Mr. Wen was a handsome man with a friendly countenance. 

"It would be an honour to have your next dance, Miss Yoon," he said. 

You accepted his hand nervously. It was not as easy as it had been with Mr. Kim, and it was difficult not to let the nerves overwhelm you. You noticed Mr. Kim watching you carefully from the corner of your eye. He gave you an encouraging smile. 

You can do this.

You had to give Mr. Kim credit where it was due. He had a knack for these things, and Mr. Wen proved to be a perfectly safe choice for your first dance partner. Junhui was an exceptional dancer and enjoyed talking about his travels in Asia. 

You only really had to smile and nod through the dance. Mr. Wen spent most of it excitedly telling you about some exotic dance performances he had witnessed while touring Japan and a safari where he had seen lions and elephants up close. He did try to politely ask you about yourself, which was the only brief moment when you sensed that the conversation was entering dangerous territory. 

Mr. Kim was watching closely from the corner of the ballroom and you remembered the notes he had prepared for you. You took a deep breath and used some of his clever one-liners, carefully placing the conversational ball back in Mr. Wen's court so that you did not have to keep it going. 

"Thank you, Miss Yoon," Mr. Wen said once you finished the dance. "That was a wonderful dance."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Wen. I enjoyed it as well."

He left. You were so thrilled by your success that you simply stood alone for a moment and revelled in your achievement. You had done it. You had made it through an entire dance with a gentleman without stumbling, stuttering, or making a faux pas. 

This was, in comparison to your first ball, a resounding success. 

"You seem pleased," Mr. Kim remarked with a grin as strode up to you. "I presume that went well?"

"It went excellently," you gushed. "You were right. I did not need to worry so much about the conversation, as long as I knew the right words to encourage him to do most of the speaking. And since the conversation was flowing smoothly I only needed to focus on my dancing."

"No dangerous thoughts?"

"No dangerous thoughts," you confirmed happily. 

Mr. Kim opened his mouth to respond but he was interrupted by the arrival of your mother. The mere sight of her caused your smile to fall and the situation was worsened by the fact that she was accompanied by a tall and imposing-looking man. 

"My dear!" your mother gushed. "You must come see who has asked to be introduced to you- Baron Wright himself!"

Baron Wright's eyes landed on yours. He reached for your hand and lifted it to your lips in a way that made your skin crawl. "Miss Yoon," he said silkily. "It is a delight to make your acquaintance. I have heard so much about you. You are certainly this season's most awaited debutante."

His words were somewhat familiar and you realised that you had heard them before- in your own voice, reading them out in front of a mirror from Mr. Kim's notes. 

You forced a smile. "Thank you, Baron Wright."

"May I have the pleasure of the next dance-"

Mr. Kim interrupted him with a polite  smile that did not reach his hard eyes. "I am afraid that pleasure already belongs to me, Baron Wright. Miss Yoon has promised this dance to me."

Baron Wright's smile faltered. "I believe you have already danced with Miss Yoon once this evening."

"And I intend to dance with her again."

"Then perhaps the next-"

Mr. Kim cut him off rudely and extended his hand to you. "Come, Miss Yoon, the music is beginning."

You were wide-eyed and numb from the shocking encounter. Mr. Kim whisked you away quickly for another dance and you looked up at him in shock. "Mr. Kim! How could you be so rude to a Baron?" you demanded in a hushed tone. 

Mr. Kim raised an eyebrow. "Was I?"

"Exceedingly so?"

"Good. I have the displeasure of knowing Baron Wright better than I'd like. A man who maliciously ruins the lives of others is not one whom I care to be polite to."

Your voice softened. "Oh yes; my sister-in-law mentioned that you were good friends with Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. I imagine you were part of the group of gentlemen who attempted to prevent Baron Wright from creating the scandal."

"I was," Mr. Kim's voice was hard. "He was rude and unreasonable. Viscount Hong offered him a tremendous sum of money but the Baron insisted on spreading the rumour anyway."

You swallowed. "But my mother is quite set on him."

"I am sure you will be able to manage even the likes of Baron Wright soon enough," Mr. Kim told you gently. His dark gaze softened as he looked down at you. "But for now, I would recommend that we keep him at a distance."

"Understood. Thank you."

As you danced, Mr. Kim told you more about how Baron Wright had single-handedly ruined the lives of both Mr. Jeon Wonwoo and Miss Hong by spreading a rumour that they had been caught in a compromising position at the Duchess’ ball. The pair had been forced to enter into a loveless marriage and leave London due to the scandal. You could tell from Mr. Kim’s tone that the story pained him. He evidently cared greatly for Mr. Jeon and worried about him. 

“It is such a horrible thing to hear about,” you admitted with a sigh. “I am shocked that Miss Hong was strong enough to bear it. To be caught in a scandal would be my worst nightmare.” 

Mr. Kim sighed. “Indeed; the irony of the situation is that they were not even lovers at all.” 

“Would it have made a difference if they were?” 

“If they had truly been lovers then they would not have gotten caught in a compromising position so easily,” Mr. Kim told you with a chuckle. “Wonwoo’s lack of experience and intent was his undoing. If he had truly wanted some time alone with a paramour then I would have been glad to point out a hundred different places he could have done so without being caught.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And you are the resident expert in such matters?” 

He grinned mischievously. “Surely you have not forgotten that I am a rake? I know I often act like a gentleman but really, Miss Yoon, you should not allow my charming manners to fool you.”

“I think,” you said thoughtfully as you looked up at the man in front of you. “You are a gentleman who acts like a rake, and not a rake who acts like a gentleman.”  

“Is there a difference?” 

“I believe so.” 

Mr. Kim seemed content with your assessment. You observed that while he was not frivolous by any means, he seemed to take everything that people said about him in a light-hearted spirit. The dance came to an end and you were approached by your sister-in-law. Mr. Kim greeted her warmly before moving away to converse with Jeonghan. 

Your sister-in-law took your arm and pulled you aside. She was smiling. 

“You seem to be almost a different person than you were last week,” she told you brightly. “You are glowing.” 

You pressed your gloved hand to your cheek, embarrassed. “Am I?” 

“You are. You looked beautiful dancing with Mr. Kim earlier. I don’t think I have ever even seen you smile so brightly! It was certainly very different from your dance at the Duchess’ ball. Mrs. Patty and all those old crones were talking about how you were the belle of the ball and I even heard a few gentlemen say that they could not wait for their turn to dance with you.” 

It was high praise indeed. You tried to stay calm. 

You bit your lip and nodded. “I think the credit goes to Mr. Kim. I am not sure why, but I feel entirely comfortable in his presence. He seems to understand me very well."

Your sister-in-law's smile stiffened a little. "You seem to have grown quite close with him."

"Perhaps I have."

"Are you in love with him?"

Your eyes widened at the sudden question. "No!" was your immediate answer, before you paused to actually consider it. You glanced at Mr. Kim out of the corner of your eye. "At least, I do not think so. I do trust him but that is partly because you trust him. And as I mentioned before, I feel quite relaxed and comfortable with him unlike with other gentlemen."

She nodded. "I see."

"Do you think I am in love with him?" you asked anxiously. "Did you feel comfortable and relaxed with my brother when you met him?"

Your sister-in-law looked mildly embarrassed. "I… would not say that comfortable describes our early interactions very well. I found Jeonghan more thrilling and exciting than comfortable."

You tilted your head thoughtfully. "I don't think I find Mr. Kim very thrilling. I must not be in love with him, then."

"Perhaps not," your sister-in-law replied simply. 

Your conversation was brought to a halt by the approach of a familiar, imposing-looking gentleman. Baron Wright had made a beeline for you. Horrified, you turned towards Mr. Kim Mingyu for help; but Mr. Kim was facing away from you while he spoke to Jeonghan and had not noticed the Baron at all. 

"Miss Yoon," the Baron greeted you in his silky tone. "I was unable to secure your company for the previous dance. Will you join me for this one?"

Your eyes widened in panic. You glanced at your sister-in-law but even she could think of no way to save you from the Baron without causing a scene. You could not possibly refuse his request for a dance without being shockingly rude. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. 

"Y-yes," you said shakily after counting to five in your head and realising that nobody was coming to rescue you from this situation. "I-it would be a pleasure."

The Baron took your hand. His grip was strong, much stronger than it needed to be and you realised to your horror that the dance was a slow waltz. His other hand placed itself firmly and uncomfortably on your back. 

Your skin crawled. 

"Miss Yoon," Baron Wright began as he led you into the dance. His steps were too fast; it was difficult to keep up with him. "It seems you are one of the most desired young ladies in the room. Most of the ton is talking about how you made a mark during your presentation in court."

You were not listening to him. His words were like white noise in your ears. It was sinking in that you were not only dancing with one of the richest and most influential gentlemen in the room. This was the man who had reduced Miss Hong- confident, beautiful, fashionable, rich Miss Hong- to a mere joke, a subject of the ton's ridicule. He had unsympathetically and single-handedly ruined a Viscount's sister. 

What could he do to you? 

Anything. 

It was sheer terror that caused your hands and knees to tremble as you tried to keep up with the dance. His steps were quick and you recoiled from his unpleasant touch. 

"Miss Yoon?" he repeated. 

"Y-yes?"

 "I was talking about your presentation in court."

Your throat was tight and you could hear his voice only faintly over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. 

"M-my presentation," you said quickly. "Yes. It… it went very well."

"I know. I was there."

"Oh."

It was all ending. Baron Wright would tell everyone that the younger Miss Yoon was a babbling fool, that she could not keep up with a slow waltz and could barely hold a conversation and your prospects would be ruined and nobody would marry you and your sister, your poor, dear, unmarried, longing-for-Mr..Choi sister….

The anxiety spiral had reached its peak. 

"Miss Yoon?"

Your eyes snapped up to look at the Baron again. 

"Y-yes?"

"I asked how you are finding London. I imagine your first season cannot be easy," the Baron said simply. 

You tried to remember what Mr. Kim had taught you. What had he said to do when you were spiralling into anxious thoughts of your sister? Something about a happy thought, a pleasant memory, a pony…

It was useless. You could not even remember what Chocolate the pony looked like. What popped into your mind's eye was not a distant memory Chocolate the pony from when you were ten years old, but the clear fresh memory of Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Mr. Kim's charming smile, the way his eyes twinkled playfully down at you and the way his warm hand felt in yours. His familiar, clean scent and how his mere presence put you at ease and relaxed your nerves. You could almost see him now. 

You could almost pretend Baron Wright was Mr. Kim.

It did not come naturally. The two gentlemen looked very different, but you only had to look in the Baron's direction while allowing your mind's eye to take over. You told yourself that this was Mr. Kim's hand in yours, that he was the one standing in front of you with a cheeky smile and teasing you about your first season in London. 

"London," you said shakily. "Suits me very well."

Baron/Mr. Kim nodded. "I imagine it can be quite daunting for young ladies such as yourself."

"I certainly prefer the countryside since I grew up on the estate and spent most of my childhood there. But I cannot pretend that country life has any of the excitement that London provides. They each have their own virtues."

"Spoken like a diplomat."

"What do you prefer, sir?"

"I rather like London. As you said, it is filled with excitement and I spend most of my time here. Once I am married, however, perhaps I will retire to my country estate to be with my family more."

You wondered what Mr. Kim's estate was like. You knew he had one, but you had never asked him about it. 

"Tell me more about your estate," you said. 

You listened in silence as Baron Wright began to talk about his grand countryside estate and his manor with thirteen bedrooms and large hunting grounds. Your heartbeat was no longer out of control. There was still a tight feeling in your chest but it had become manageable and you concentrated on your steps to keep the dance going smoothly.

The dance finally came to an end. The Baron did not release you immediately and you almost had to squirm your way out of his grasp and walk away from him. 

Mr. Kim was standing near the wall of the ballroom. He was looking right at you, his dark eyes filled with a genuine worry and concern as he walked towards you briskly.

"I am so sorry," Mr. Kim said to you in a low voice. "I did not see him, I should have intervened. Are you all right?"

You avoided his gaze. 

"I need a smoke," you mumbled. 

Mr. Kim's expression softened with understanding. He cleared his throat and then whispered to you quickly and furtively. "Walk out of that door and go down the hallway. Third door to the right is a balcony. I will join you in two minutes."

You nodded and swiftly followed his instructions. You emerged onto a deserted balcony and took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was a few moments later than Mr. Kim emerged onto the balcony with a cigar in hand. 

You took it from him silently. Your hands were trembling so Mr. Kim lit it for you and then leaned against the railing as he watched you you take a long shaky, drag and exhale into the cool night air. 

"I assume that it was not easy," he said quietly. 

"No," you admitted. 

"You seem to have emerged from the lion's den without too much trouble. I was watching from the sidelines; you did not appear too flustered towards the end. I even saw you speaking to him. How did you keep the anxiety under control?" he asked.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. Mr. Kim seemed genuinely worried about you. 

"I did not," you said before taking another drag from the cigar. The shaky exhale helped relax your nerves. "The anxiety spiralled as it always does but I was… I was able to distract myself from it with a pleasant thought."

Mr. Kim nodded appreciatively. "Ah, yes. Chocolate the pony. Excellent. I am glad that worked."

You looked at him for a long moment? Should you tell him? Should you tell him that it was not thoughts of a godforsaken pony that had grounded you and calmed you but him? 

You had been completely open with Mr. Kim from the beginning. From the start you had confessed to him all your fears and insecurities and worries. 

But this… this seemed different. For the first time you felt as though what you had done to cope with Baron Wright was simply too personal, too intimate to reveal to Mr. Kim. For the first time, you feared how he might react to this particular revelation. 

"Yes," you said simply after a long pause.

Mr. Kim was smiling as he pulled another cigar out of his coat pocket and lit it for himself. "Well, this is certainly a cause for celebration! I expected that it would be weeks before you could make it through a dance with someone like Baron Wright, but you managed it quickly! My pupil has far exceeded my expectations."

You smiled at him shakily. "Your pupil almost had a nervous breakdown in the middle of a crowded ballroom."

Mr. Kim's eyes twinkled. "But the key word is almost."

"I imagine this bodes well for my matrimonial prospects," you replied. "But I would still like your continued support during the upcoming balls."

"Of course. I still have plenty to teach you."

You nodded. There was a brief, comfortable silence between you as you both stood against the balcony railing and smoked. Mr. Kim folded an arm across his chest and then turned to look at you curiously. 

"Can I ask you a question, Miss Yoon?"

"Certainly."

"I know that you primary objective this season is to secure a husband so that you can clear the path for your sister to marry Mr. Choi. But did you never hope to find love for yourself? I know most young ladies dream of finding true love."

You bit your lip and shrugged. "Perhaps I did dream of finding true love at one point. This is not how I imagined the process would be, though."

"How did you imagine it would be?"

"I expected that the process of getting to know a gentleman and falling in love with him would be more… natural? Organic? Certainly not filled with forcefully induced conversations and awkward  encounters and scheming and…" you paused and pulled out the notes that Mr. Kim had made for you from your skirts. "...rehearsed compliments. How does one fall in love if every word they speak is rehearsed as though it is all a play?"

Mr. Kim grinned. "You would be surprised how many ladies have fallen for those compliments."

You shook your head. "This can't be how one falls in love. Surely. This is merely a pantomime that one performs to find a husband or wife."

"You may have a point," Mr. Kim replied. "It is all a game. One can hone their skills at a game with practice and develop expertise, as I have done. But love… that is not a game."

"Do you not wish to marry?"

Mr. Kim tapped his cigar on the railing and blinked at you thoughtfully. "I have no need to marry. My parents have both passed away. If they had been alive they may have insisted upon my marrying, but in their absence…"

"So you wish to remain a bachelor forever?" you asked. "Are you quite set upon bachelorhood?"

"Not at all."

"Then you might be persuaded to marry?"

"I have yet to find someone with such persuasive capabilities," Mr. Kim said with a chuckle. "But I am afraid in our society the burden of persuasion is upon the gentleman. So the situation may never come to pass."

"Perhaps not."

Or perhaps it will. 

—----------------------------------

With the passage of time, it became increasingly difficult to deny that you were falling in love with Mr. Kim Mingyu. 

It was a natural outcome. As the busy London social season progressed over the weeks and months, he became an almost constant presence in your life. 

Mr. Kim was rarely far from you at any social event. You danced multiple dances together and he helped manoeuvre you out of tricky situations with your mother and other gentlemen. Finally, you both shared a secret cigar in some balcony or stolen corner of a garden at the end of each night. 

You had grown used to him, gradually, slowly, almost imperceptibly. Mr. Kim with his charming smiles and playful presence and intuitive remarks had wormed his way into your heart. It took his sudden absence- looking around a ballroom and finding him not there for you to realise just how much of your thoughts and being had started to centre around him. 

"Mr. Kim?" Jeonghan replied when you asked about him at the Duchess of Graham's garden party. "Oh, I do not think we shall see him today. He is quite busy these days with the opening of his new art gallery."

"Ah; of course!" your sister-in-law cried. "The grand opening is in two days!"

You nodded. Mr. Kim spoke about the gallery often. He was a patron of the arts, as he called himself; you took this to mean that he enjoyed artwork and often sponsored struggling young artists. His new gallery was an attempt to find a way for less privileged artists to display their artwork where it could be admired by more elite members of society. You respected Mr. Kim's intentions.

"Yes- we are all invited," Jeonghan replied. "It should be a rather interesting event. I know Mr. Kim was worried that he would not be able to open it before the season ended."

You nodded. "I am glad he will."

Jeonghan turned to you with a sigh. "While we are on the subject of the end of the season… how fares your search for a husband, sister? Your mother has been trying to distance me as much as possible from the process. But some gentlemen have approached me to express an interest in you. Is there any gentleman to whom I should grant my approval?"

Your heart sank. It was true; the season was ending, there was barely a fortnight left. You were running out of time to secure a proposal. It was not due to a lack of interest from the gentlemen of the ton, but due to your own reservedness and failure to encourage anyone that you had not received any definitive proposals. 

"Who has expressed interest?" your sister-in-law asked Jeonghan curiously. 

"Mr. Hessington and Mr. Carter both asked if I  believed my sister was partial to them. Not to mention Baron Wright has asked me multiple times for an audience this week. I have been putting him off."

Your eyes widened. "Baron Wright?"

Jeonghan nodded. "I am sure he means to ask for my permission to propose. He has certainly expressed a lot of interest in you despite how difficult Mr. Kim makes it for him."

You bit your lip anxiously. You had to secure a proposal before the season ended but the thought of marrying Baron Wright made you miserable. Nor did Mr. Hessington or Mr. Carter inspire any more positive feelings in you. 

It was beginning to occur to you that you did not wish to marry any of these men. 

Jeonghan noticed your miserable expression. "Sister? Is something the matter?"

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yes, I… I am thirsty. I shall be back with a glass of juice."

You stood up and walked away. The garden party was held at the Duchess of Graham's vast and beautiful gardens and there were many attendees. You had to pass by Viscountess Hong and Miss Ella Williams to reach the refreshments and the Viscountess called out to you. 

"Miss Yoon!" she said brightly. She was a kind woman with an almost motherly presence. "It is rather unusual to see you at a social event without Mr. Kim trailing behind you. Ms. Williams and I were just talking about how this season's belle of the ball has managed to bewitch the ton's most notorious rake!"

You blinked at them in surprise. "Oh… no, Mr. Kim is just very kind…"

Miss Williams giggled. "Yes, excessively kind indeed! So kind that he must dance multiple times with you at every event and goes as far as to snatch you away from other gentlemen!"

You could not blame them for misunderstanding. You forced a smile and nodded. "Well, yes… but Mr. Kim is quite a determined bachelor."

"By which you mean he is a rake," Miss Williams giggled. She suddenly lowered her voice and beckoned you to come closer to her. "I shall show you a secret, Miss Yoon, since I find myself rather fond of you. Do you see this little book? I have been keeping a record of all the bachelors of the ton for a while now."

You peeked at the little book she showed you. It was crammed with multiple pages of small, intense handwriting. 

"I have a page for each gentleman," she continued to explain. "Two for Mr. Kim since I could not fit the list of ladies that Mr. Kim is said to have courted in one page. Do you see it here?"

Your eyes widened at the list. It was not short. 

"O-oh," you said, your heart sinking. 

Viscountess Hong frowned at Miss Williams. "I am not sure that Miss Yoon quite understands what you mean by showing her this, Ella. You had better explain yourself."

Ella's eyes widened. "Oh! I apologise, Miss Yoon, it was not my intent to discourage you! Quite the opposite. It had become quite a habit of mine to add a new name every so often and it occurred to me the other day that it has been months since I had added a new name to the list! You can see here- the very last name is yours, which I added at the start  of the season."

You blinked down at your name at the end of the long list. Viscountess Hong looked at you with a warm smile. 

"I will not pretend that I am a fan of this list Ella keeps," the Viscountess said with a sigh. "But it is certainly something to think about. I am sure if any young lady had to choose where on that list she wanted her name to be, she would choose the last spot."

Ella giggled. "I do hope you receive a proposal from him soon, Miss Yoon. Not only because I am running out of pages in my book, but also because I think you shine quite brightly when you are with Mr. Kim."

It was becoming too much. The courtship was false, Mr. Kim was only your mentor, you would go so far as to call him a friend, perhaps, but he had never expressed an interest in being anything more. He had certainly never indicated an interest in marriage. You had suppressed all your hopes and thoughts of the future and simply enjoyed the time you spent with Mr. Kim. 

But these women did not realise that they were giving you a dangerous sort of  hope. 

"Thank you," you said politely to the women before leaving. You went back to your sister-in-law. She was seated alone now, as your brother had walked away to speak to some other gentlemen. 

"Are you all right?" she asked you. 

You shook your head miserably. Your hands were trembling. "I think I have done something that you will consider me very, very foolish for having done."

Her expression was gentle. "And what is that?"

"I think I have fallen in love with Mr. Kim."

She did not seem surprised. Her hand reached out to grasp yours comfortingly. She lowered her voice. "My dear. There is nothing foolish about falling in love. It happens to all of us, each in our own time and in our own way. The foolishness is only regarding what we do with our feelings."

"And what shall I do with mine?"

She bit her lip. "I cannot pretend to know Mr. Kim's heart. You must find out for yourself what it is."

"How shall I do that?"

She laughed. "You show him yours, my dear."

—--------------------------------------------------------

[casinoroyale]

Hi everyone!! Theseus cquackity viceduo zombur revivebur here.

This blog has seen several hiatuses (my bad seriously my bad), and bouts of irregular posting. So I'm sure people who regularly check it have noticed that we (Fiona @quackbur and I) haven't been posting daily anymore and haven't for a bit now. So below the cut I'm gonna talk more about that, and our plans for this blog going forward

For starters, I love roleplaying on this blog so much, as does my cohost Fiona @quackbur. Fiona has done so, so much writing for this and I feel kind of bad for taking her credit over the past two or so years, so props to her for being such a good sport and for everything she's done. This blog wouldn't exist without the shared passion she had for it.

To get sappy, I love the friends I've made in bedrockverse, they remain some of my best and closest companions. I would not trade the times I've spent with them for the world. Beau, Holly & co, Met & Co, and Thunderbottles are some of the loveliest, most supportive, and insanely talented people I have ever had the pleasure of writing with and meeting.

This includes people who aren't part of the bedrockverse that I've written with!! Shoutout to Javi anonymous-jey casino-duckling, TGM the-g-m duckofthelaw, and AD anonymous-dentist therealnoodleman. It was so much fun bringing all the quackverses together, and I respect all of you so much as writers.

AND that also includes EVERYONE who has interacted with her!!!!!!!!!! Everyone who has sent asks (thank you so much, sorry we're terrible at replying), reblogged threads, commented, posted/liveblogged, DREW FAN ART (BLOWS OUR MINDS. THERE'S BEEN SO MUCH INCREDIBLE ART CREATED, WE CANNOT THANK ALL OF YOU ENOUGH), even just liked a thread, thank you. Seriously, it has meant a lot to us to be part of this community, and have so many people enjoy this blog. Insert Pitbull image happy you enjoyed.

So, going forward it would make us really happy if you all pictured casinoroyale as happy. He has songbird-sunrise, goofygoop, and a nation full of citizens that she loves. She babysits for tubbolul and latenightmining, and terrorizes rp!emduo not infrequently. All we really wanted was to bring c!quackity to a happy place and I feel we've done that. Of course he still has shit days, as a ptsd baddie, but the good days are more common. And if we never get to it (though I hope someday we do, maybe in the form of a collaborative one-shot or fic) know that casinoroyale and songbird-sunrise DO eventually get [REDACTED]. And one of them DOES get [REDACTED]. That was always the plan! Yay! [REDACTED]!

Not to say that we don't have more arcs planned for this blog, because we do! I just don't know when/if/how they'll ever get written, especially because a lot of my friends have moved on from their rp blogs as well. But I really do still feel happy with where he's at and happy with everything I've done. This is a project I'm really, really proud of and I will always look back on fondly.

None of this means that I'm not interested in c!Quackity or DSMP as a whole anymore, either. Actually that couldn't be further from the truth. But now I'd like to be able to focus on fics, and other forms of writing, which I've been doing more recently :D actually, you can read a short one shot I posted for exile's anniversary HERE

If you've made it this far into this long, sappy post, THANKS!!!!!! The TLDR; this blog is on an indefinite hiatus, and won't be returning to its formal glory, and that's okay. We had a really good run. Now, off we go to other things

[pyrpaw]

Hi! I'm new to the TWST fandom but like I have a decent understanding of it. I've only finished book 2 so far, but I've seen enough spoilers and memes to know the basics of the characters.

Anyway, I heard you were taking requests? And I was wondering if you could maybe write an Idia x m!reader that likes to bake? As in the reader bakes a lot as their hobby, like how Trey does, and likes to give out their baked goods to anyone they pass by?

You don't have to it's just a suggestion to help you kick-start your boredom or writing deprivation. Thanks in advance <3

ooo I hope you've had fun in the fandom so far! I'm gonna be honest I've been in alot of fandoms and TWST has been the one with the nicest ppl so far 😭

(so much drama in 2022 twst tt tho)

ive never written Idia before so I'm sorry if it's not great 😭

contents: Idia likes cats, we all know this. I didn't end up giving the reader any gender because I didn't know how to fit it in 😭

Pastries makes you friends <3

yknow those Japanese pastries that look super cute? (like this)

yeah, that's how you become friends with Idia

once you decided to just make some kitty like treats and give them to basically any student you passed, and one of said students was Idia after being forced out of his room

I'm gonna be honest, he might remember your face afterwards but he's still a little introvert shit who avoids you anyways

but as it turns out, your schedules happen to meet up in a few classes, and once he realizes your face was the one who gave him a cat shaped treat he becomes a bit more friendly (and a lot more awkward)

so, the next time you brought treats to class you obviously gave him one with no hesitation (no his hair isn't turning pink shut up)

I think he'll probably start to avoid you a bit-because he's scared of embarrassing himself! so imagine his dismay when you first paired up for a project and he accidentally let some fuckin "gamer lingo" lose

(whether you understood it or not he's embarrassed as hell)

now-i think once you keep giving him sweets he becomes a bit more friendly, maybe offering you suggestions of something you should try and bake (which is probably some shit from his favorite game or anime)

also, if you make bread as well, do NOT show him sourdough starter, bro is gonna think it's souls of the tormented coming to haunt him

also-he'd prolly be a little shit and tell you if you want to visit him then you have to bring him a treat, but he won't stop you from coming over even if you don't, it was worth a shot anyway

imagine if you will-Idia obviously doesn't eat anything healthy for him, so sneaking vegetables into some batches of treats is definitely the only way that man eats anything non processed in the slightest

(not super long-sorry 😭)

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

For starters there is not enough fics for Ministry of ungentlemanly warfare so you are a total blessing! If your are writing still, what about apple x female team member - maybe even gus's younger sister ? Would love to read something like that 🤩

I've been working on this request lately, so I wanted to share a little bit of what I've written so far. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Geoffrey Appleyard x F! Reader (Gus's Sister)

Warnings: Language

“We had an agent stationed there already but…she went missing. We believe she’s being held in a Garrison off the coast of Spain.” M glances at the others around him, all of them conveniently avoiding his eyes. “There is one other detail,” Gus lowers the glass of whiskey, raising a brow. 

“Out with it old boy,” he shouts jovially, “my god, M, I’ve never known you to be shy about giving details.” 

Gus takes another swig, chuckling, “It’s your sister.” Whiskey sprays across the table, the classified documents now covered in a layer of the drink as the last drops dribble down Gus’s chin, his jaw clenched. 

“Who’s sister?” he asks quietly, placing the glass down slowly.

“Yours,” M adjusts his collar, “we recruited her fourteen months ago, around the time you went away. She wanted to help the war effort and…” M trails off as Gus clenches both hands into a fist. 

“You’re telling me,” he leans back, “that my baby sister, is being held in a Nazi garrison as a prisoner of war, and no one has been sent to retrieve her?” 

“Well not exactly, we did send another operative, just…we believe he’s been captured too.” 

“Imbeciles!” Gus shouts getting to his feet, “I’ll need my team assembled as soon as possible, Freddy, Anders, Henry, and Appleyard.” 

“Uhmm,” M interrupts, “about Mr. Appleyard…” Gus holds out his hands urging him to continue quicker, and M rushes out with, “he’s the operative that went missing.” 

“Fuck!” Gus shouts, grabbing his coat and a handful of cigars from the dish, shouting expletives as he leaves the room, “fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking FUCK!” 

Back in the room, M leans back against the chair and lets out a breath, reaching for his cigarette and taking a puff. “You didn’t mention the engagement,” Majorie leans forward to look at the three men beside her, “I feel like that was a fairly important detail.” 

“You saw how he reacted when I told him, his sister and best mate were both being held captive by an entire Nazi garrison. What do you think he would do if I told him I had him train her and they fell in love and got engaged?!” 

“I don’t know,” Marjorie laughs, “but I’d love to be there to see it when he finds out.”

[dthroned-sameurl]

         it   had   been   54   days   since   he   had   left      ,      since   Violent   Delights   was   given   the   offer   of   a   lifetime      &      Davina   wasn't   sure   why   she   had   been   counting      .      it   was   a   number   that   seemed   to   painfully   carve   itself   into   her   being   with   each   day   that   passed      ,      and   it   wasn't   as   if   she   was   upset   at   him   for   the   band   finally   picking   up      ,      she   wasn't   surprised   either   since   she   knew   that   one   day   he   would   leave   this   small      ,      useless   town   behind   in   pursue   of   his   dreams      .      she   didn't   think   that   when   it   would   happen   she   would   be   left   behind      .

      there   was   a   Bandit   shaped   hole   in   her   life      &      the   absence   was   felt   with   each   day   that   she   walked   down   the   corridors   of   school      &      he   wasn't   there      ,      each   argument   she   had   with   her   mother   and   she   couldn't   run   to   him   for   safety      ---      the   way   that   she   felt   completely   herself   with   him   there   with   her      .      she   was   kicking   herself   for   not   running   off   with   him      ,      but   the   need   to   finish   high   school   was   something   that   was   on   the   forefront   of   her   mind      ,      she   had   no   prospects      ,      no   chance   of   running   off   into   the   limelight   and   being   famous      .

               davina   was   burdened   to   life   a   normal   life   while   being   in   love   with   a   man   destined   for   stardom      .      it   was   all   incredibly   tragic      ,      like   she   was   the   subject   of   a   cruel   joke   that   life   had   thrown   at   her      .

      it   all   came   to   a   head   one   night      ,      scrolling   through   social   media      &      his   face   for   the   thousandth   time   had   come   across   her   screen      ,      losing   hours   watching   his   performances      ,      opening   her   messaging   app   as   her   thumbs   hover   over   the   screen      &      there   are   a   thousand   things   that   she   wants   to   say   to   him   but   all   she   does   is   close   out   of   it      .      all   she   could   think   of   was   how   selfish   it   would   be   of   her   to   tell   him   that   she   missed   him      &      wanted   him   to   come   home      ?      how   selfish   would   it   be   for   her   to   put   the   burden   of   her   every   day   life   on   him   when   he   was   living   his   dreams      &      going   to   places   she   could   only   imagine      ?      most   nights   ended   with   her   putting   her   phone   down      &      drifting   off   to   sleep   in   a   fit   of   tears      ,      but   not   this   time      .

         it   takes   her   ten   minutes   to   pack   up   a   bag      ,      everything   important   she   may   need   packages   away      &      it   doesn't   take   long   until   she's   in   her   car      ,      gps   loaded   on   her   phone      &      her   destination   is   set   to   where   he   would   be   performing   next      .      everything   after   that   came   in   a   blur      ,      unsure   how   she   managed   to   get   there   as   fast   as   she   did      ,      how   she   managed   to   get   into   the   venue   without   a   ticket      &      even   how   she   was   able   to   get   backstage      .

      davina   wanted   to   believe   that   maybe   there   was   someone   who   recognized   her   that   allowed   her   to   go   through      ,      but   she   knew   this   wasn't   some   fanfiction      ,      she   was   sure   she   would   be   kicked   out   the   second   she   was   recognized      .      the   gravity   of   the   situation   had   hit   her   when   she's   standing   in   the   room      ,      ears   starting   to   ring   as   she   starts   to   contemplate   walking   out      &      heading   home      ,      wondering   if   maybe   she   had   gone   a   step   too   far      ,      but   it   only   took   for   him   to   come   into   the   room   for   her   heart   to   stop      &      the   world   around   her   to   suddenly   freeze      .

      '      you   know      --      '      her   words   are   slightly   choked      ,      cheeks   red   as   she   is   unsure   how   he   would   take   her   being   there      ,      if   he   would   even   be   happy   to   see   her      .      '      i   think   it   was   incredibly   rude   of   you   to   leave   me   behind   in   a   town   that   doesn't   make   sense   for   me   if   you   aren't   in   it      .      '

@bandersnch . liked for a starter from Davina Claire

[asexualbookbird]

Oh what a month for reading! Some really bad books, but also some candidates for favorites of the year! Had book club! That was fun as always! I also started TWO new fiber craft projects which I'm excited about. The Cabled crochet blanket is SO much fun and I'm really getting into the groove of it. I've learnt how to read crochet charts! Partially anyway. For this one project. It's clear I am still recovering covid because I can't do much else than sitting in bed reading lol But hey, I'm resting and having fun!

Envy of Angels by Matt Wallace ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - What a delightfully hilarious nugget of a book! Absolutely wacky! Definitely interested in the rest of the series, but it's also more of a Read When In Brain Fog so I want to save it for my bad brain days lol

Shadow of the Crown by Amber Morane ⭐ - Unpolished. Poorly written. The ending sucked. No redeeming qualities and I do not want to read more from this series or author. At least it was free.

Starter Villain by John Scalzi ⭐⭐⭐ - Another fun and silly book! Scalzi definitely has a way of writing that defines a Scalzi Book™️. Don't think too much about it, just enjoy the ride. Loved the cats, I think more authors should put genius cats into their books.

Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - CRYING. SOBBING. SCREAMING. Finally read this and I am in PAIN! Very good, very feelings, this is what Ready Player One could've been.

Flight & Anchor by Nicole Kornher-Stace ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - The Prequel to Firebreak, glad I read this second so that lines could hurt me more because I know how their stories end. I'm not sure what, but this one was missing something for me that made me enjoy it a little less than Firebreak, but I still enjoyed it a lot! A great duo!

His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Reread for book club! Still enjoyed it a lot! Still adore Temeraire and Laurence! The amount of times they call each other "my dear" so early melts my heart. I'd probably like this even more if I actually enjoyed historical fiction and the Napoleon wars.

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - hey. Hi. Hello. What if Geralt was canonically a woman and the demon chicken from Nettle & Bone had a Voice. What. If. This book is a part of me now thanks bye!

Again, no clear goals for March. I"m honestly having a good time just reading with whatever I vibe with. I didn't get to the Ga'Hoole books in February, so I'll put those at the top of my potential list for March, but other than that? Who knows! I definitely immediately put myself on the libby waitlist for Sunbringer I need to know how Kissen, Elo, and Ina get on. I need to know they're all okay. Please let them be okay ;-;

If you have any recommendations for books like Godkiller I am ALL EARS! Might replay Witcher III about it in the meantime.