#whatever. maybe i should just take the next dose anyway

[toastsnaffler]

I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.

[ghouljams]

GHOUL I AGREE WITH EVERYTHING YOU SAID ABOUT A/B/O

and i sooo think personal biass and views are obvious when people write the traditional a/b/o. sometimes i cant even concentrate/ finish it because its sooo obvious and i start thinking about the real world implications

Maybe it's because I have world builder's disease but so much of traditional a/b/o falls apart with just a little bit of pressure. You're telling me suppressants for omegas are the only form of birth control? You're telling me that betas are basically left to experience life without a sense because they're just normal people next to alphas/omegas? Like what's the point of betas if they're nose blind and don't have fertility cycles or social standing? Afab alphas are rare? Are amab alphas common? Why is that? Hm? Why would that be?

There are always personal biases in fiction, but I find them to be particularly obvious in omegaverse. The way that Dom/sub become gendered so severely really makes me upset! There are just as many dominant afab people as there are dominant amab folks, and vice versa with subs! Why should amab/afab dictate the secondary hormones?

I'm also not a fan of mpreg. Which makes that plot point of a/b/o just wholly unappealing to me. Anyway.

Here are some hot off the presses Ghoul a/b/o world building thoughts I've had recently:

OTC birth control for EVERYONE. If you have fertility cycles as a societal standard then everyone on the spectrum should be using birth control. Pills for Alphas, Omegas, and Betas, plus implants/spermicides/whatever.

In the same vein: After Heat pills. We at (pharmaceutical company) get it, it's hard to remember pills when you're in heat/rut. If you think you missed a dose you can take this neat little after heat pill! Yeetus that Fetus before it starts getting ideas. (call that plan a/B/o)

Specialized food for different endotypes. Different hormones gotta effect different things, and probably need different things, restaurants would probably have "endotypical" dishes with different things for each person. They all taste good but maybe if you're an omega one will taste better than the other? Also snacks? The snack aisle would probably have little stamps on stuff like "great for alphas!" "great for betas!" etc.

Endotype specific vitamins and supplements?

Medical leave for heats/ruts at jobs.

Apps that tell you when your cycle is coming in. Heat/Rut specific pads and whatever?

Beta as a sliding scale between omega and alpha with its own hormone qualifications. Betas with their own scents. Betas with their own pack roles. Betas with their own stereotypes and PORN. God the market for Beta porn must be fucking crazy. Betas that lean a little more alpha having a little bit of a knot, drives the bitches wild. Betas that lean a little more omega who rub the little gland in their neck when they're stressed to get that happy hormone.

Scent erasers... or neutralizers? A little spray perfume that clears different people's scents off you.

DIFFERENT MANNERS FOR DIFFERENT ENDOTYPES

Omegas having to be the one to offer sharing their heat with a partner. Omegas having to keep from butting into conflicts that don't involve them...

Alphas having to hold themselves back from micro-managing their friends and loved ones, lest they be labeled as domineering.

Betas having to reign in their propensity towards brute forcing their way through emotional problems when people ask them for help.

Just... Spectrum endotypes where being a "true" alpha or omega is rare and everyone falls somewhere on a sliding scale. (Unless you're like Ghost and have a hormone problem...)

[natty-taffy]

the handmaiden - [natasha x reader]

Interactive fanfiction

series masterlist

Summary: Natasha's room is definitely not what you were expecting Previously, on your path: Chapter I.I.II.II

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ CHAPTER I.I.II.II.0

As she steps back inside her room, looking back at you expectantly, you don’t need to be told twice, immediately following track- you can’t believe she is really allowing you into her room, you don’t even know how to act.

While she closes the door, you take a moment to take a peak at the room around you- it resembles your room, as you should have expected, given that she is probably not one for frivolous modifications and you don’t actually have anything to decorate yours.

She does have a lot of plants- there are three vases by the window, one of a snake plant, another of papyrus, and a beautiful white jasmine vine, at the foot of her bed stands a big areca palm, practically stealing all the attention to itself. In the corner of the room that doesn’t have much direct sunlight, you can see a beautiful monstera plant, paired with a cast iron plant.

“You have such a beautiful room, Nat” You compliment her, you can already feel yourself relaxing at the peace that her bedroom exhales “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a plant mom, if only, maybe, of a cactus”

“Thank you” She answers with a small chuckle- there is still an edge on her voice “Do not ever call me a plant mom again- and I do have a cactus”

She points at the side of her bed, where, on the bedside table rests a small ball cactus, alongside a small metal panel, filled with photographs- you squint your eyes as varieties of the same blonde hair appear on the photos.

“Oh, is that Yelena?” You nod your head to the panel, smiling as she nods nervously- you had heard about her a lot, it feels nice to finally put her face into such an important name “She is so beautiful” 

“She is” Natasha answers, almost proudly. 

Before you can move on from the pictures, your eyes catch a small piece of paper- on the top corner of the panel, almost hidden by a picture of the Avengers. You can barely breathe as you stare back at a drawing of yourself.

You point at the yellowed paper, forcing the words out of your mouth as if they are made of sand “Is this-” 

Natasha silently leaves your side, approaches the small table and carefully, with touches that are barely there, unclips the frail paper from under the other. 

Before you can comprehend, she is already back at you, almost not offering the drawing for you to touch- you don’t think you could touch it anyway. It is very clearly your bust- maybe six or seven years younger- an age in which you hadn’t seen yourself yet, you wear your hair in a beautiful bun, and your smile almost shines within the paper. 

There is a russian inscription at the bottom of the paper and you’re left even more confused than before- can you speak russian?

“Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice pulls you back into her room- not as peaceful as you had found it, just a moment ago.

You’re not sure, so you don’t answer, instead, you ask her another question “When was this?”

“1918, come sit down” She barely allows you to digest the information, before she guides you to her bed. You frown at her, feeling lost again, and a small chuckle leaves your mouth.

“Nat, I’m twenty… something” Your answer is not the most credible one, given that you don’t know how old you truly are- perks of being raised as HYDRA’s lab rat- all you do know is what Bruce told you after your first battery of exams ‘the aging process of your DNA suggests that you have in between twenty-one and twenty-five years’ and, since then, you stuck with the one solid piece of information you have about yourself.

Natasha seems to be intricately choosing her next words, so you try to prepare yourself for whatever comes next “In the same way that Steve is thirty-something” She tiptoes around her own ideas before adding “In the same way I’m thirty-something- they probably dosed you a little higher than they did to me, I’m only a year older than you”

“Oh” You’re so glad Nat sat you down before, because your body goes immediately numb- you can hear her slowly speaking to you, and the melody of her voice doesn’t fail to calm you down, but you can’t bring yourself to pay attention to anything else. 

The one thing you had clung to for so long was not even close to the truth, you don’t even know anymore if you want to find it anymore, you want to be twenty-something- why didn’t you listen to her various attempts to protect you from this? 

Protect you- your cheeks are warmed up once again, your whole face gains back color at the simple reminder of her caring about you- about you being missed by her. Maybe, you ponder, finding out that you’ve had this much love surrounding you, even if only by her, even if you still don’t know much for certain, is worth sharing a little bit of the pain she has carried by herself for so long.

“Should I stop?” Is the first thing you hear after zoning back to her room, once more.

“Yes” You answer without thinking, but hurriedly fix it “No” And, after receiving a worried look, you take a breathe, nodding at her with more certainty “Just- follow my lead” 

Natasha smiles easily at you, nodding in agreement, waiting patiently for your pacing- it’s not like she hasn’t kept it for a century- she tries not to follow your movements too obviously, but she supposes you can’t blame her for being a little worried.

“We’re super soldiers, then?” You try to understand from how she explained it to you.

“Not quite” She grimaces a little, knowing you just needed one objective answer “We were the first people to be tested for the Super Sorum, so they a lot changed from ours to Steve’, we don’t have super strength nor super healing, but we have great reflexes and age at a slower pace” 

“Yeah” You nod, starting to piece the pieces of information together- your puzzle is starting to feel more complete at each word that leaves her mouth, finally. 

There was, however, one nagging question that has been bothering you ever since you saw the drawing- what do you have to do with Russia? 

Undeniably, you can infer that you have met there, under circumstances you still don’t know- so are you russian, then? Did you have a family back then, in 1918? And where does Natasha Romanoff fit into all of this?

Oh.

You suddenly feel as if a lamp has lightened up inside of your brain- Natasha probably has everything to do with Russia, in 1918- you are either right or have gone insane, at this point, for even considering such a thing. But all is fair after you found out you’re at least a hundred years old less than an hour ago.

“So, bear with me” You try to explain yourself before asking her “Do you happen to have anything to do with Anatasia Romanov?”

Natasha smiles like the sun of midday, it almost blinds you and warms you at the same time “Up until they turned me into Natalia” You can’t believe you’re actually right.

The one thing that rolls out of your mouth is “I am so sorry” Because what else could you possibly say to a girl whose family was murdered in front of her, who, then, was captured by the Red Room for God knows how long?

Surprisingly, her smile gets even wider “Of all people, you’re the only one who shouldn’t have to say this” And you don’t get the chance to even get surprised by this, before she’s explaining why “You’re the only reason that I’m alive”

“Why? Wait- Hold on, what was I, anyway?” You double-question her and she has to refrain herself from relishing how little you have really changed. You take the twinkle in her eyes as a green light to poke her a little “Besides your fling, that is- how was it that you said before? Your ‘everything’ ”

It’s her turn to blush, and she does beautifully so “Funny” With a cute little grin still adorning her lips, Natasha answers you “You were my handmaiden” And, in the same breath, adds in a more serious tone “My lover” 

“Handmaiden” You test the thought on your mind. 

You were a handmaiden, you lived in Russia, you were a teenager in 1918, and you were Natasha’s- then, Anastasia- lover. Your eyes are filled with gratitude at the same time they are with tears, both of them too abundant to not spill down your cheeks.

“I can’t thank you enough for telling me all of this, Natasha” You whisper in wobbly words “I imagine it can’t be easy for you, not one part of this”

“Don’t thank me, darling, I am so unbelievably sorry for withholding the truth from you for so long” The woman tries to blink her two traitorous tears away, her voice sounds so raw that they don’t even sound like Natasha at all- and, no matter how much she is right for telling you she is sorry, all you want to do is hug her until she calms down.

“You have been the light of my life for so long, even after all these years, the mere knowledge that I have been loved by you has always been my safe harbor” Her tiny, shaky voice spills every word as if she is a faucet just ready to burst “I just didn’t want to get to know the new you and risk forgetting about the one that I have always held so dearly in my heart”

There are a thousand things you want to tell her, all running through your brain, begging to be chosen- but none being actually able to leave your mouth, and you don’t think she would register them now, anyway. 

So you choose to follow your instincts and slowly approach her “I will hug you now, may I?” And, after all she does is nod profusely, you circle your arms around her- relaxing beneath her body, whose quiet sobs cause her to tremble slightly under you. You can’t hold your own tears at the peace that immediately takes over you at holding her in your arms.

“I have truly resented you” You whisper, hoping she would listen to you “But I hadn’t had the slightes idea of what you were going through- and yes, you could have treated me better, but sometimes you have to deal with your feelings in the only ways you can. I don’t hold you with a single negative feeling, take a deep breath now”

With two deep intakes, she recomposes herself quickly, only enough to tell you- still buried under your chest “How come you haven’t changed at all?”

You don’t know whose body is shaking, or if it’s them both, but you find enough strength to answer her, smiling at the premise of the thought “That we will only find out when we start unboxing everything”

Natasha, then, untangles herself from you- she is calmer now, her smile under her red nose and puffy eyes look like the very first sun rays in the morning, shily stepping in front of the clouds. She toys with your fingers, in what seems to be a nervous habit.

“Do I see you tomorrow, then?”

You smile back at her and grin at her antics, feeling impossibly brighter and tired- you might as well have been reborn.

“Is the sky blue, Nat?”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

New paths coming soon!

[loosingmoreletters]

For the ask game Ghostbat, 37

I barely go here anymore babe, you’ll have to excuse the characterizations.

meeting in prison au

Bruce Wayne’s parents die. He copes with it and everything else that happens to him in the next decade as well as one would expect for the richest orphan in the world, pushed around by relatives with sharp teeth and greedy hands. Maybe, in some other world, there’d be someone who cares, but in this one, the Wayne and Kane names are not spoken kindly. Any cousins he has, are much older, distant, and more likely to tell Bruce to stay quiet and out of sight.

Bruce is pulled from school after the first fight he gets into over his parents’ death. It’s just until he’s learned to manage his grief a little better, until he’s fit for society again. He never returns and it suits him just fine. He occupies his days with self-studies in whatever matter interests him and remains unseen as is demanded.

The first real decision Bruce Wayne, all of nineteen, makes about his life, is taking a gun into his hand and shoot the man who ruined his life three times in the chest.

He does so in broad daylight, is caught on the spot, though the police doesn’t have to tackle him down, he’d already on the ground, heaving, throwing up over the gun. Erratic, the report will say later, not a practiced shooter. He isn’t, he’s fired the handgun he nicked from his uncle a hundred times in the forest behind the manor, practiced until perfection, for three shots that will have his parents’ murderer most certainly die a slow and agonizing death.

Poor Bruce Wayne, a fragile child presented only at the right occasions like expensive jewelry.

The sentence they give him is barely a slap on the wrist. After all, so proclaim the papers, what good son wouldn’t avenge their parents?

It should matter, Bruce thinks somewhere, that he perpetuated the same violence as the one that ruined him, ruins him still. It doesn’t matter to anyone, it just feels hollow.

It’s Gotham, they decide on a year in Arkham.

His mental health has never been great, his aunt proclaims in some interview, crying crocodile tears. We had to pull him from school because of it! We tried our best, but poor Bruce, he was hurting so much.

Bruce has no doubt that by the time he is released from Arkham, all of his assets will be seized. All the papers he had to sign to even get admitted, he knows exactly what freedoms he gave up. Bruce Wayne will no longer be of worth to anyone, and that suits him just fine.

It’s fine anyway, there’s no need to live beyond this.

The first month is surprisingly quiet for all that he now resides in Arkham. He supposes the doctors are still careful with him, paid to keep him docile and quiet. They’re probably happy that this criminally insane inmate never throws a fuss, isn’t anything like the freaks they keep downstairs. After all, Bruce Wayne really only got revenge. The motif is clear, his trigger as well. He’s a predictable patient, and the diagnosis they write on their little clipboards amount to nothing more than severe depression. The doses of depressants he’s prescribed is too high, and since nobody expects Bruce to act out, nobody checks if he actually takes them.

More often than not, his therapists end up telling Bruce how happy they are to speak to him instead of anyone downstairs. Bruce’s monotone behavior is well rewarded after the six-month mark, he gets a cellmate.

Anton smiles, flirts, charms, and never speaks of what sentence brought him here.

Bruce isn’t stupid, he figures that whatever it is, it isn’t what he’s actually here for. Anton is amusing in his own way, though Bruce supposes his own reactions to Anton’s flirting are the true entertainment to the other. It’s what you get when you raise yourself in isolation. Anton cracks a joke about attraction and Bruce replies with formula for dopamine.

“You’re smarter than you look,” Anton says one night, out of the blue.

“How’d you know?” Bruce asks in return, his eyes never straying from the page of the book he’s reading, thankful for the moonlight. He can read and keep up a conversation at a same time just fine. Could probably add a third task if he had anything else to occupy his hands with that wasn’t turning a page. Maybe he should ask the doctors to add some creative classes. Cooking would be fun, though he supposes the knives would be a challenge. It’s sad, he misses chemistry.

“The way you talk,” Anton answers.

Bruce doesn’t think there’s anything special about the way he talks. He’s blunt to a fault.

Why did you kill him?

He murdered my parents.

Did you plan this?

Obviously.

Are you taking this seriously at all, Mr. Wayne?

No, sir.

“I don’t say much.”

Nobody wants to listen to poor, orphan Bruce Wayne after all.

“And yet, if I were to ask you how to get to the bottom levels undetected, I’m sure you could tell me, probably open our door as well without anyone noticing.”

Bruce does look away from his page now and finds Anton staring at him with interest, a sincerity about his own character that Bruce hasn’t expected. Anton, Bruce thinks, beneath all his smiles, is angry in a way Bruce doesn’t have the energy or patience for anymore.

Don’t lose your heart, Master Wayne, Alfred said before he returned to England. Perhaps love would’ve suited Bruce better than endless anger.

“Is that what you’re actually here for?” Bruce asks instead.

“Mhm.” Anton leans back on his bed. He brags about his morning routine outside of Arkham, but he looks plenty pretty to Bruce even without. “My teacher sent me here with a little task. Said Gotham is the best place to practice.”

It’s Gotham, Bruce doesn’t really want to imagine what kind of task Anton has been sent here for.

“Do you want my help?” It’s easier to simply cut the chase.

“Maybe.” Anton tilts his head. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Bruce shrugs. He’s got nowhere better to be, really. “Are you offering a place to stay after?”

Anton grins and it’s more honest than any of his previous flirting, though Bruce supposes that wasn’t entirely for show either. “Oh, I’ve got a whole damn world for a brain like yours. Are you in?”

He holds out his hand.

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 2: Strange Hospitality

In which we return to the present day, where Danny finds a strange mansion in the woods while searching for her friend. Contains: ~2.8k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

The weather was not kind to Danny as she trudged through the woods, each footstep falling heavy and laboriously through the snow as she marched onward, fueled by a bitter spite towards whatever entity had decided she would not have an easy journey.

She couldn’t give up. The horse that Nathan had taken out of town this morning had returned, frightened and skittish, without him. It had taken all morning to calm it down enough to take out again. They had been traveling for so long that Danny had to walk beside it now, giving the poor horse a rest while he carried the meager supplies she’d scraped together at the last minute. 

She tried to follow the path Nathan should have taken towards the next town, keeping a vigilant eye out for any danger. All of his things had still been in the horse’s saddlebags, so it couldn’t have been bandits, right? Had the horse been spooked by a wild animal? Had they simply gotten separated? He would walk back the way he’d come if that was the case, wouldn’t he?

He’d look for shelter, or for someone to help. Maybe there’s a home somewhere along the way. 

Surely he’s alright. He has to be.

But Danny had traveled all day, and hadn’t seen a sign of Nathan anywhere on the road. No one she’d passed had seen anyone matching her description of Nathan, either, which only made her more and more anxious. The sun began to dip near the horizon, and the encroaching darkness brought with it a fresh wave of anxiety. She couldn’t turn back, not without Nathan. She had to find him.

“NATHAN!” she called out, desperately, hopelessly. She couldn’t just yell his name out here in the middle of nowhere and expect a response. She did it anyway. “NATE!” 

“Hello? Are you okay?” 

She stopped in her tracks abruptly, so surprised by the voice that she almost didn’t realize she’d heard one in the first place. It wasn’t Nathan—and she couldn’t quite place where it had come from. She whipped her head this way and that, but all she could see immediately were snow-covered trees. 

“Where are you?” she called out, against her better judgment. Strangers in the woods were usually things you tried to avoid, but she was desperate—she had to take her chances with anyone who could help her find her friend. 

She followed the voice’s direction a little further down the path, and to her left, hidden well amongst the trees and the snow, she finally saw it—a huge mansion surrounded by a large, iron gate, obviously the home of someone who was very rich and important. This far out in the woods, though? She supposed some of them must have homes out in the country for when they got bored of city life. 

The voice from earlier came again, but she still couldn’t see who its owner was. “You seem lost. Are you okay?” 

Oddly, she couldn’t tell if the voice even belonged to a man or a woman, not without a face to go with it. Even so, it sounded young, and…fairly trustworthy, or at least, feigning a genuine enough concern.

“I’m…I’m looking for a friend. He was traveling this way earlier today…his name is Nathan Hayes. Have you seen anyone, by chance?”

The voice didn’t reply for a moment. Danny moved closer to the gate, cautiously, searching the mansion’s grounds for anyone who could have spoken to her. And then, she watched in wonder as the gate swung open—almost of its own accord.

…maybe the wind blew it open?

“I think I can help you find your friend. Would you like to come inside?” 

There was absolutely no way in hell this wasn’t the same kind of setup as every nightmarish fairy tale Nathan had ever told her—getting lost in the woods, wandering into some strange house, and then getting eaten by a witch or chased by bears or cursed by some fairy queen. 

She glared at the gate with a very heavy dose of suspicion. “What makes you say that, huh? How can you help me find him?” 

Another pause. “Because I’ve seen him. Curly brown hair, freckles, green shirt, right?”

Danny felt her heart drop into her stomach. “T-that’s him! You’ve seen him? Where? When? And…where are you? Why can’t I see you?” 

“I’m inside,” the voice simply said—which frankly should have been a lie, because the front door to the mansion was pretty far down the path, and this voice was as clear as if it was right next to her. Danny, unfortunately, didn’t have a better explanation to refute the claim. “I can explain more if you come in? It’s getting late—you shouldn’t travel at night. It’s dangerous.” 

I can’t argue with that, she thought sullenly. Though it’s just as dangerous to trust strangers like you. There was no doubt, though, that this person—whoever they were—had seen Nathan, at least. Danny had no choice—she needed to accept whatever help this person had to offer, no matter how strange. She had nothing else to go on.

She took a deep breath and made her way to the opened gate, pulling her horse along.

The horse stopped before the gate, kicking up his hooves and letting out a frightened whinny, refusing to go any further towards the house.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, Buddy! It’s okay.” Danny tried to soothe him, but it was useless—no amount of coaxing was going to get the horse to calm down, it seemed. She didn’t know what had gotten him so worked up—but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better about listening to the strange voice.

I don’t have a choice. I have to find Nathan.

She tied Buddy’s reins to the fencepost—lest he run off again and leave her stranded in the woods as well—before heading down the path alone.

The grounds of this mansion, now that she could get a closer look, seemed to be well-maintained. A fountain sat a short ways down, the water frozen over it in an icy, solid waterfall. Hedges lined the yard, covered in a heavy layer of snow. There were even what appeared to be topiary animals here and there.

Rich people really do have the weirdest hobbies. 

She finally reached the mansion itself—a hulking, obscenely elaborate building of dark stone and sharp, twisted spires, like a grand cathedral instead of a place someone actually lived in. Ivy crawled up the edges of the worn brick, giving the whole place the feeling of being terribly old. 

Danny had never been afforded many luxuries in life—the modest house on their farm was a luxury in and of itself. This was far beyond her understanding of how any normal person could live. How much money did a place like this even cost? 

She took a few more cautious steps towards the huge front doors, which loomed before her in all their ornate beauty. There were patterns carved into the wood, elaborate etchings that curled their way all the way down and around a pair of huge, equally elaborate brass door knockers. 

A shiver ran down her spine, but she wrote it off as a gust of winter wind that snapped at her then, rustling her traveling cloak in its wake. 

She reached out for one of the door knockers, but before her hand could touch it, the door opened wide towards her. 

It was dark inside of the house—too dark to see much besides some sort of entryway awaiting her, and what looked like a grand staircase further in. She didn’t see anyone on the other side, strangely. 

“Hello?” she called out, waiting on the porch for an answer. 

“Come in,” the voice insisted, friendly and bright. “Sorry it’s a little dark, I’ll get things lit up for you.”

The voice seemed to have floated further inside the house, and so, with one last, decisive breath, she decided to follow it, and stepped over the threshold.

And immediately, she fell flat on her face. 

Something had rushed to her head almost immediately that had caused such a spell of sudden dizziness—almost a vertigo of some sort, like she’d fallen from some great height instead of just walking into a house. The split-second flash of memory she had retained from before the fall was quickly brushed away, written off as the ridiculous concoction of a brain that didn’t have the capability to walk in a straight line.

She quickly rose to her feet in shame, straightening her cloak and looking around for anyone who would have beared witness to her fall.

Suddenly, though, embarrassment was the least of her concerns.

This was not the same house she’d seen from outside the open door—the tiles below her were the same, the entryway stood before her, yes, but the problem was that everything was built for a fucking giant. 

The edge of the floor tile she was on now stretched on—it had been small enough to step over in one stride, and now it seemed to be as wide as her whole house. The ceiling rose above her, taller than a grand cathedral, much taller than the outside of the building suggested. She thought that a mountain could fit within this space comfortably, and the more she looked up, the dizzier she became. She tried to avert her eyes to something that made sense, but everywhere she looked brought an even further sense of terror. Everything, every chair, every window, every door frame and odd object scattered about seemed to be designed for someone easily a hundred feet tall, maybe more. 

She found that she had frozen in place, and as she looked behind her frantically, as if to catch a glimpse of the outside world to see if she was in a crazy dream or not, she saw the door—now rising so far above her that it would have been an impossible feat to reach the door knocker from before—closed shut on its own.

As if to fight against the sudden lack of air in her lungs, she took in a forceful inhale of breath—though what to do with it, she hadn’t decided. Screaming didn’t seem productive, not yet, and she wasn’t sure whether she was angry at having been deceived, or simply awestruck at whatever magic she’d stumbled into. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t panic.”

“I am NOT panicking,” Danny gasped, almost sounding offended at the notion as she did her best to stifle the hysteria rising in her throat.

She still didn’t see anyone nearby—which, frankly, maybe she should be thankful for. Oddly, the strange voice didn’t seem to come from high above her, as she imagined it might have if it had belonged to a giant. It almost sounded as if it came from right beside her, like there was another person standing just to her right—but there was nothing, except for a huge, stone vase next to the door that held a bouquet of flowers that rose higher above her than any tree she’d ever seen.

“It’s okay. I know it’s…a little weird.” 

“A-a little weird? You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Danny muttered, her eyes still casting about the room as though it might make sense the longer she took it all in. “What kind of crazy-ass house is this?” 

“It was built about three hundred years ago, and takes some influence from Baroque design-”

“I’m talking about the GIANT FUCKING EVERYTHING,” Danny blurted out, waving her arms around as if maybe the owner of the voice needed help seeing what she did. “How the fuck is this possible?”

“Uh…magic?” the voice supplied, semi-helpfully. 

Danny sighed, relinquishing the breath they’d taken in a weary, frazzled exhale. They couldn’t argue with that.

She gasped as a series of lamps far above her along the walls lit themselves up along the inside of the room, illuminating the space even more. She’d almost not noticed it from her vantage point earlier, but there was a gigantic staircase a ways ahead of her in the middle of the room, made of dark wood with a red fabric runner going down its length and spilling out onto the floor at the bottom. It rose up to the second level of the house, its railings intricately carved and oiled, with enormous wooden birds of a species she didn’t recognize adorning the bottom of the railing like perched gargoyles. A huge chandelier lit up directly above her as well, dripping with fine crystal far above like the stars in the sky had formed into one dazzling constellation. 

She stared in awe, a little of the initial shock making way for what might have been amazement. It truly was grand, and far fancier than anything she’d ever seen before. If only she didn’t have to crane her neck to actually see half of it—and if only she wasn’t also given the new and rather unwelcome perspective of what a bug might see before it was unceremoniously crushed under someone’s heel.

“It’s a real nice place, isn’t it?” 

The voice no longer came from her right, but from her other side—though, unsurprisingly at this point, there was nothing there but a small (relative to the house, not to her) table. 

“Y-yeah, it’s uh, it’s pretty fancy,” she relented, trying to settle her frantic heartbeat with what she’d come here for in the first place. “So, can you tell me what you know about Nathan? Do you know if he’s okay? Where are you?” She wondered if she would have to go wandering in this giant house—if this strange person was up the stairs or on the far side of the house, it could easily be a grand adventure of multiple days just to reach them, at her size. “Are you a…giant?”

“Nathan’s fine, he’s alright. And uh, no, I’m not a giant. But can I just say, you’re taking this really well so far.”

A few things seemed to rustle about, like a wind blew through an open window into the room. But none of the windows were open, so what made the curtains move like that?

“So…where is he? Is he here? Can you take me to him?”

Another chill ran down her spine like an ill omen, and she didn’t have to wait long to figure out what such a premonition had warned her of. She could hear, just around the corner, the sound of hulking, huge footsteps, moving slowly towards the room she was in now.

A giant.

“Can you do me just one favor?” the voice whispered, and it felt now as though the invisible person stood right next to her ear. It sent a fresh wave of chills down her skin, raising goosebumps along it, and she stood silently, frozen in place. “I’ll help you find Nathan as long as you don’t scream when you see this guy.” 

“W-when I see who?” Danny muttered harshly, her head beginning to frantically turn this way and that as she looked for the danger her body warned her about, her heart’s tempo increasing with every second. 

“The master of the house,” the voice said simply. Danny felt a sudden, almost tangible absence then—as if there really had been some sort of invisible person beside them, and they’d just…disappeared. 

She steeled herself for what she was about to see, doing her best to quiet the rising panic inside of her as the footsteps grew closer. It felt almost as though each step shook the whole place, though certainly that was only due to how utterly dwarfed she was by everything. It was like she could feel the vibrations of each step in her chest as the sound echoed hollowly in the huge, empty house. 

And then he made his appearance around the corner from a room further down, his eyes landing squarely and immediately on her—though as he caught sight of her, he remained standing where he was, as if he was simply observing her from a distance.

The man appeared to be young, not much older than her, with a slender, willowy frame and sharp, dark eyes. His dark black hair was done up in an elegant but simple updo, his hair twisted around on each side of his face and collected in a bun in the back. He wore a brocaded burgundy waistcoat atop a loose, white shirt—everything about him suggested an air of wealth and sophistication that fit the house he resided in. 

That, of course, and the fact that he was at least a hundred fucking feet tall. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Next Chapter ->

You've all seen the movie, so surely you all know it's going to go well in the next chapter, right?

Thanks for reading, and see you next week with chapter 3, Master of the House!

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Idk if you’ve gotten this but maybe mermaids or sirens?

Pairing: ShigaDabi

Content: Quirk Kink, Tentacle Sex, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Dry Orgasm, Wet & Messy, Anal sex, Double Penetration, Triple Penetration, Subspace, Dacryphilia, Praise Kink, Humiliation Kink, I fucked around with octopus biology and might have also given a more eel trait or two to help with lubrication… anyway. Tomura accidentally doses Dabi with a neurotoxin, no ill-effects are had and everyone is fine, but I thought I should warn just in case.

The lieutenants’ meeting wraps up without much fanfare and the former members of the MLA file out swiftly, leaving the lot of them alone in the room. As soon as they are, the others are glancing at each other but it ends up being Compress who decides to try, 

"Uh, Tomura?"

Duster doesn't even look up from the reports that they'd all given to update him on things he's missed while away with the doctor. "What?" And his voice is definitely shorter than it usually is. Doesn't usually have that tone with any of them anymore, not since the earliest days back in Kamino. 

Spinner tries next, "Are you good, man?" And even the gecko sounds nervous and he's usually pretty secure in the fact that he's Tomura's favorite, after himself, so Dabi ends up taking pity on them. 

"He's just cranky because he spent all night waterboarding himself in the bathtub."

And that gets the rest of the League looking at him like he's grown another head and his lover glaring at him. "I was not waterboarding myself." He sets aside the papers and runs a hand through his hair, wearing his gloves today because he really is so tired and cranky that his control might not be perfect. "I awakened a new quirk during the last round of treatments that allows me to breathe underwater." He explains tersely. "However, I only can activate it when I'm close to drowning. I was trying to figure out how to turn it on and off more voluntarily so that it won't interfere with my treatments when I go into suspended animation." 

"So you... spent the night drowning yourself?" 

"Training--"

"Yes." Tomura glares at him. "Cranky." And Dabi is kind of delighting in that. Normally he's the cranky one and Duster delights in teasing him constantly, had definitely been feeling cranky last night when Duster refused to show him his new quirk until he could get it under control, but now he's feeling a little smug. Tomura usually has such meticulous and perfect control, and since this one isn't life threatening, it is kind of funny how annoyed he is about it. 

The others are less amused though and there's a beat as they try to come up with solutions of their own to the problem. "Is it a mutation quirk?"

"Yes, heteromorphic." 

 "Maybe you would be able to use it if you stayed in the water for longer and relaxed?" Compress offers carefully. 

"I tried that." 

"Huh," Spinner sounds like he's got the best grip on this situation given his own quirk, "Maybe it's because the water isn't deep enough, or because the tub is too sterile. Fish don't like being in little tanks, right? Maybe you can't turn without being stressed because your instincts know that isn't safe."

"Oh!" And Toga sounds excited. "What if we took you somewhere with like a big pool?"

"When did this become a group activity?" Tomura sounds more tired than annoyed now, seeming to resign himself to trying whatever the others offer which means he is very, very frustrated with the outcome of last night's activities. 

"We don't have any more meetings this weekend, please?" 

Shig sighs, "Fine." 

Toga is out of her chair like a shot, racing from the room the room in the next second. They all scatter for the time being, seeing to their own work before she inevitably comes back with whatever solution she's come up with. 

It's only a half an hour until she finds each of them, demanding they pack their bags for the weekend. 

///

Ending up at a hot spring resort was not what he expected when Toga had run off, didn't even know the PLF owned a resort like this, let alone could clear it out for a weekend for their use exclusively, but what the fucking hell? His life can't get any weirder. The resort has large public pools as well as, he's happy to note, private ones too attached to the nicest rooms, and of course their simpering lackies gave the Grand Commander the best room, which means Dabi gets the best room too. Duster still looks vaguely exasperated with the entire situation, but he also does want to test their theory about the new quirk so after they've all gotten a tour of the facilities, he breaks away to go to the private pool to see if he can manage the change while the rest of them get into swimsuits and head to some of the co-ed public ones. 

Dabi is pretty fucking sure Toga was just waiting for an excuse to get them all here because she had readily provided them all with bathing suits. He hates the fact that she'd given Twice a speedo, which the other man was embarrassed about in one breath and boasting about in the next, but unfortunately, her amusement had not wavered or shown mercy and it was that or nothing for the blond man. Whatever, it doesn't end up mattering much once they're all submerged in the dark, steaming water, the mineral scent of it floating from the surface and swirling around them. He's very glad that his seams have healed so much with the Doc's treatments and that he hasn't needed to overwork his quirk in a few months, because his seams are fully closed at the moment which means he can actually enjoy soaking in the pools with them. 

They shoot the shit and relax for maybe an hour before Dabi decides to go check on Shig. Just wants to be sure his lover hasn't accidentally boiled the fish parts or drowned himself due to his own stubbornness. The hallways are eerily quiet as he makes his way through them, made for the hushed hum of many guests behind closed doors and for plenty more to be walking through them. But there's none of that now, making the space seem unnaturally still. It sets his nerves slightly on edge as he goes back to their room. He opens the door and doesn't find Shig inside, which means he must be out in the private pool. 

This pool, while nowhere near as expansive as the one he'd left the others in, is still large enough that Dabi guesses that all six of them, and probably a few extras, could fit comfortably inside. Surrounded by bamboo and natural rocks to keep it feeling closed in and secure, it's a nice, quiet oasis-- that his lover is also not in. Dabi's about to start trying to figure out where else he could have gone when he sees the water ripple slightly. Hesitantly he moves over to the side of the water, kneeling down. The water is too deep and dark for him to see through, but Dabi tries anyway for a moment before he dips his hand into the pool up to his wrist. 

"You down there, Shig?" 

There's no reply for a moment. Then there are four fingers trailing lightly over the back of his hand. He flinches slightly, even though he’d been half-expecting it, not being able to see where the touch was coming from is still a little creepy. Gets a gentle, soothing stroke across the back of his knuckles before the fingers curl around his wrist and give a soft, but insistent, tug. Was just supposed to be checking in, maybe bullying Shig to come see the others, but he is curious and if anyone gets to see Duster's new quirk first it should definitely be him. 

So he eases into this pool and the hand retreats. Dabi settles against the edge, waiting for his lover to appear. And he doesn't. 

"Seriously? You're not like a shark or something, are you?" His breath catches in the back of his throat when Tomura's hands wrap around his thighs, spreading them wider as he pushes the leg of his swim trunks higher, before sharp teeth nip at the inside of his thigh. Dabi lets out a little gasp as a shudder runs through him. Expected he would be getting fucked in this pool as soon as Duster figured out his new quirk, but he didn't think it would be so soon. Really must have been the tub being too small if he'd figured it out in an hour. 

Dabi melts against the rocks at his back, spreading his legs a little wider, "Come on, Duster, I want to see." 

Doesn't get to immediately. Instead he gets that mouth pressing kisses to his thighs, up over his stomach, head coming high enough that he can sort of see Tomura's white hair drifting beneath the surface of the water. Really, really not expecting for something slick, smooth, and strong to curl around one of his ankles, slithering upwards along his leg too. Tomura keeps him still, which must mean--

"No, you are not a fucking octopus--!" He lets out an extremely unbecoming squeak as a few more of the thick appendages start to move across his body, two more replacing the hands on his thighs, one wrapping around his waist, and one, Dabi whimpers, curling over the front of his swim trunks and doing something. It's like a rippling, squeezing motion as the appendage presses against him, putting a gentle, teasing pressure all along him from root to tip, extending to around his balls as the tentacle presses even more insistently against his crotch. A strange, good sensation that has his breath leaving him in a harsh pant. 

Dabi fumbles, reaching beneath the water and managing to find Tomura's hair, tangling a hand in the long locks and giving a little tug. Duster obliges him this time, the movements of all his extra limbs going softer as he brings his head above the water and crowds into Dabi's space. His lover's appearance, from what he can see so far, is mostly unchanged, same pale hair and skin, same scars. The only changes he sees immediately are the gills running up the side of his neck, thin slits that are flushed a darker red on the inside, and slightly mottled with black pigmentation along the edges, and his pupils are now rectangular and horizontal across his iris. Doesn't see his sharper teeth until he opens his mouth,  

"And what if I am?" Expression and voice amused and teasing. The tentacles beneath the water stroke, and coil, and curl, moving all across his body, a few of the slick black limbs moving just enough so that the curves of them break the surface of the pool for just long enough for Dabi to catch little flashes of them. Tomura presses in even closer, lips brushing the side of his neck as he murmurs, one hand moving up across his chest as the other curves around the small of his back just above where one of his other appendages is holding him tight. "Would that really make you any less eager for me to touch you, pretty boy?" The tentacle against his crotch shifts and squeezes him again and Dabi lets out another little whimper as his cock starts to harden. 

"Tomura," his voice a breathy whine as his lover drags sharp teeth along the side of his throat. Tightens his grip in his hair, other hand curving over his shoulder because he has a feeling he is absolutely going to need something to hold on to if the tentacle prodding at his waistband is any indication of what's to come. 

"Do you want to stop, firefly?" 

His cheeks go hot. He is pretty fucking sure that he was not this adventurous or this much of a pervert before he started fucking Duster. Unfortunately for his dignity, there's no way he's going to be able to stop thinking bout this possibility if he chickens out now. "Are you going to put me in a schoolgirl outfit and keep fucking me while I cry and beg you to stop?" 

"Mm, didn't bring any of your skirts this time, princess," and Dabi walked right into that, face blushing hotly. "But I can make you cry and beg." The tentacles start to ease his trunks off, the one that had been stroking him though the fabric insistently curling around his naked skin. "Work you over until you can't move, and when the others come looking for us, I'll have to tell them you overheated again so you don't embarrass yourself when you can't stand." Dabi's cock twitches and is then engulfed by the tentacle, coiling completely around his length and pressing up beneath him, muscles tightening in a rhythmic pulse that has him moaning loudly and his hips twitching. Which sends fresh pleasure washing through him as grinding down on the bulge of prehensile muscle puts pressure everywhere he wants it. It has him gasping in an instant, cock completely hardening and any apprehension quickly banished from beneath his skin. "You want that, sweet thing?" 

He nods, pulling at Tomura's hair, getting his lover to press in for a kiss as his trunks slip completely from his legs. Tomura readily kisses him back, mouth as hot and hungry as his own and filled with sharp, sharp teeth that he's pretty fucking sure octopuses don't have, but Dabi won't complain about that if it means he doesn't have a beak elsewhere. Two of the appendages move to cup his ass and curl up over his back, supporting his weight and lifting him so that he's half out of the water, so that he can see the others as two more slither up his thighs. They are definitely slicker than he even thought they were with the water submerging his body, each one goes from nearly as thick around as his thigh to a tapered point of about two fingers. The underside of each lined with suckers. Dabi cries out when the one around his cock twists, shifting to put those along his length and they start to tighten and release in soft flutters that makes it feel like he has a dozen mouths kissing and sucking along his length. 

"Tomura!" 

His lover gives a pleased hum and starts to move that one again, mouth sinking back to his throat as his fingers move to tease at the barbells through his nipples. More tentacles-- he must only have eight, right? How can eight be enough to make it feel like they're sliding over every part of him?-- moving to catch his wrists and hold them tight so that all he can do is writhe as his lover does what he wants to him with his new appendages. 

The one around his cock moves slowly, but insistently, and Dabi watches as a little further down the length of shiny black muscle, it coils and twists, that bulge working up and along the length until it's meeting where the first loop goes around his cock. Thinks his brain might short circuit slightly as that knot smooths out and in its wake there is a thick pool of slick, viscus liquid that spills over the rest of the tentacle and is quickly worked down over his cock so that every slide, suck, and movement against him is so much messier and feels so much better. Fucking, trust Duster to have a new quirk for an hour and already have figured out how to use it for sex. Should have known breathing would only be one step higher on his list than figuring out how to produce his own fucking lube. And Dabi wants to be annoyed about that, he really does, but the problem is that it feels so good that instead of mocking him or bitching, all he's doing is gasping and moaning, rocking back up into every tight, heady stroke of the tentacle around his cock. 

Tomura chuckles against his throat, which must mean he sounds like a desperate whore as he's touched, but he really can't bring himself to care. Must be being loud though because that's usually when his lover pushes fingers into his mouth to muffle his sounds. Doesn't use his fingers today, though. Dabi doesn't even hesitate when the soft black skin rubs against his lower lip, opens his mouth eagerly, and Tomura fills it. The tentacle pushes inside, pushing all the way to the back of his throat roughly enough that it makes even his nearly-dead gag reflex twitch for a second before Dabi is moaning and swallowing. The skin is soft and smooth, filling his mouth completely, the suckers teasing at his tongue like his lover is toying with it, and it tastes... strange. Not bad, not quite like how he expects his Tomura's skin to taste. It has the mineral earthiness of the hot springs that has been a heavy smell in his nose, but there's a different kind of... tang almost. A flavor that he can't quite describe but that has his stretched lips tingling alongside his tongue and every part of his mouth where the tentacle is pressing. Not bad, strange, kind of reminds him of a tingling lube with the coolness of menthol. Numbs his throat and lips just enough for him to not have any qualms about swallowing hard around the appendage until Duster is feeding in another few inches, going deeper into his throat than even his oversized cock usually does, making Dabi's eyes roll back and flutter shut. Oh, he didn't know his throat could feel any fuller than that, but this is good, this is making his head float enough that he's not sure if it's the sensation or the lack of oxygen that's getting to him. 

Tomura fucks the tentacle in and out of his throat very gently as his other myriad limbs stroke every place across his skin that feels good, suckers kissing him everywhere. It doesn't matter that every movement against him is slow, everything is so much, and so overwhelming that it has his cock aching for release. Duster doesn't make him wait though, keeps the movements constant, shifting so one of the larger suckers is positioned directly over his head and suckling at it while more kiss along the length of his piercings, the whole tangle of the limb never stopping its serpentine, undulating movements along his shaft, until--

His moan is completely smothered by the tentacle in his mouth as his hips twitch jerkily in his lover's grasp as his balls draw tight and his orgasm overtakes him. Feels like Tomura drags out the waves of pleasure going through him as all of that sensation doesn't stop throughout it, and by the time he's blinking his eyes back open, he only gets a moment to be embarrassed at how obscene his spend looks seeping out of the tight coil of muscle around his cock, before the one in his mouth is kinking a few inches below where it meets his lips. He whimpers around the appendage when he meets Tomura's eyes as the kink works its way higher, but his lover just murmurs, 

"I know how much you like to swallow, precious, open wide." As if his mouth could be pressed any wider without tearing him open at the seams. But for as sinister as the words sounded, his lover doesn't force that bulge past his lips, instead just pressing the puddle of slick to his mouth. Fat drops fall down his chin and splash against his chest, but more of it does sneak past his teeth and Dabi sucks and swallows, the fluid thicker and more viscus than any cum he's ever had in his mouth and settling in his stomach with the same tingling sensation as was pressing all along his mouth. When he swallows everything that actually made it to his lips, Duster coos softly at him, pulling the limb from his mouth and gathering him close as he presses kisses to his cheek and temple. "Good boy. Do you still want me to make you cry, baby?" Strokes his hair softly, eyes so sweet and adoring on him. Makes him feel even better and more floaty in the wake of his orgasm. 

His tongue feels a little numb, but he manages a nod. Tomura presses another kiss to his cheek before he's moving them through the water. He has enough limbs that he quickly enough has a few of the thick fluffy towels laid out over the carved stones that lead to the lip of the pool, and then he uses his too many limbs to coax Dabi back against those too, lifting himself out of the water once he's settled on his back dazedly. Tomura's body is mostly the same across his torso, though there is another set of gills cut across his sides. The real changes start where his belly button used to be, the skin transitioning into black and staying solid to where the top of his pelvis is before changing into the branching, too many tentacles that are all over him again once he's settled. Two pushing his legs wide, one still playing with his soft, oversensitive cock, another stroking at his seams, his hands running over his skin as well. It's overwhelming and when he tries to reach for Tomura, his wrists are easily bound and pressed back against the ground. Wants him helpless today and for the first time in a long time Dabi feels it as his lover brings one of the tentacles between his legs and starts to prod at his hole. 

He lets out a shaky breath as it teases and toys, slick, but not as wet as his fingers usually are-- at least, not at first. Dabi watches as he squeezes the muscles of that tentacle around themselves again, gathering more of his slick and pressing a thick glob of it against his hole, enough that it's dripping down his skin and making him squirm a little as his face goes hotter. The slick makes his hole tingly and sensitive like it did his throat and Dabi can't bite back the little moan that slips out as even just the very tip of the tentacle breaches his rim and pushes a little inside him too. It's smooth and tapered, the suction cups soft enough that all they offer is a slight bumpy texture as Tomura teases him open. He works slowly, eyes dark with his lust, and dragging over every part of him. Loves to work him up, and to make him fall apart over and over again. 

He toys and teases at his hole until Dabi is whining and moaning, his cock starting to harden again, and his hips trying to twitch back on the appendage to get it deeper. But as soon as he makes that movement, Dabi knows it was a mistake. Because Tomura's eyes spark, a smile curling slowly over his lips. It's such a pretty smile, soft and sweet. It's the kind of smile that would make anyone else doubt he's a villain. But Dabi knows that smile. Knows its soft, and affectionate, and filled with his joy because he's about to take some fresh sadistic pleasure from his body. He whimpers and that's all the sign that Sir needs before he's pressing the tentacle in, and in, and in. 

His hole stretches around it, the taper and viscosity of the slick making it much easier for him to feed it inside of his body. His muscles stretch open around it as it goes deeper, the base much wider than Tomura's cock, and so much longer. He thinks Sir gives him three or four more inches than he usually gets, and that is so deep that Dabi doesn't think he could push any further without carving open a spot all for himself inside of his insides. And he doesn't start to thrust the appendage when he does eventually figure out how to breathe and not tense. Realizes Sir must have wanted him to cum before so he would be too relaxed to be nervous or think about the fact that Tomura probably doesn't have a dick in this form. Maybe. He doesn't know what octopus biology is like. Those thoughts are delirious and fleeting as they flit across his mind, lost quickly enough when Tomura starts to undulate and twist the tentacle inside of him. He feels his hole flutter around him as his insides try to clench down on him as pleasure sparks across his nerves, his cock hardening the rest of the way. Tomura must feel that against him, draws the one inside him out just an inch or two before pushing it so deeply inside again and rubbing more. 

Dabi is panting and moaning constantly as his lover sets a rhythm to his movements that slowly has less and less of the tentacle returning to push along his insides on each slow, writhing thrust. Makes him feel so much emptier than when they started and soon enough he's trying to rock his hips back to make him give him more. Forgot the lesson he just learned about trying to get more that Tomura was ready to give him, and is punished for it when the tentacle draws all the way out until only the very tip is rubbing circles around his hole again. 

"Not enough, baby boy? You could have just said that you need more in your greedy hole. You know I'll give you anything you want, sweetheart." Knows he's in over his head when there's a second tip pushing against his rim then, and a fresh pulse of slick over and inside his stretched hole. A high wine fills his head as Tomura starts to press both inside, does it even more slowly, slick gushing inside of him and against him to ease the way as he goes, but he pushes them in, and in, and in, until they hit that spot inside of him again where they can't push any further. It takes a really long time for Dabi to realize that whining is coming from him. Takes even longer to notice that his cock hurts because it's so sensitive and softening rapidly in the wake of his second orgasm he didn't even notice approaching, body so lost in the sensation of being this full for the first time in his life, that the pleasure came and went with only the aftershocks making an impression. Tomura keeps his cock encased in his warm, tight muscles, wet from the pool, his slick, and Dabi's cum, but he doesn't torture him, doesn't stroke him or suck at him. Warms his cock the same way Dabi likes to do for him on occasion. 

He works the two tentacles inside him even slower and more carefully than he did the first, and Dabi can only lay there, lost in the sensation as his lover touches him everywhere else too as he presses kisses to his cheeks and lips, and strokes his hair. 

"You're doing such a good job, precious. You're taking me so deep, so proud of you, baby boy." 

Dabi embarrasses himself by mewling, his insides trembling at the words. Always wants to be good for Sir. Wants to make Tomura proud. 

"Do you think you can do even better? Do you want to take my cock too, firefly?" 

He whimpers, thought that Sir might not have his cock in this form. Doesn't know how he could possibly take anything else, he's so full already but... but he wants to be good. Wants to make sure that Tomura feels good too. His whole body is shaking but he still manages a little nod. Tomura gives him a soft kiss. 

"You know what to do if it's too much?" Another little nod, "Show me." And even with his wrists held in place, he can still snap his fingers. "Perfect, sweetheart." Then his focus shifts, the tentacles pulling slowly out of him, but the tips are more insistent around his rim, keeping him open, stretched. Dabi's face goes so hot when he feels how far he's spread and how the cooler air feels against his gaping hole as the tips of his tentacles tease him and keep him open. 

He expects to get Tomura's cock, doesn't expect a new tentacle to come slithering out from beneath the tangle of the others, this one stark white and shaped a little differently than the others, the suckers starting a few inches down from the almost spoon-like spaded head. But it's just as mobile as the others as it crawls up his thigh as the two that were already inside him ooze a little more of their slick into and around his hole, before Sir's cock is pressing inside. Dabi moans, voice raw with the sound, as Tomura immediately pushes in and reaches, crooking to rub against his prostate, the strange shape of his had almost cupping it as it rubs and presses and makes his whole body loose and tingly with fresh pleasure. 

Only gets that for a few strokes before the tips of both the other tentacles are sneaking in alongside his cock. Pull out almost all the way each time, but they do push in a little further each time they re-enter him, and soon Dabi is whimpering and trying not to squirm, as he becomes so full that he's surprised there's even room for air in his lungs. He has never been this full before. Pressure across every single nerve ending inside his hole, at his stretched rim, warm, slick, tight pressure around his cock. It's all so much. It's too much. Dabi doesn't know how he can even survive every sensation that is wracking his body. 

"Fuck, you feel so good baby," Tomura's praise makes him float even higher. "Didn't know you could be any cuter, but you're so pretty all blissed out of your mind. Have I finally found something that's enough for my needy size queen?" 

"Sir," his voice is so thin, and it was so hard to even get just that one word out of him, that Dabi doesn't even bother to try for another. 

"Stuffed you so full, haven't I?" Rhetorical, as he starts to move the members inside of him. Dabi's vision bursts with black and spots of white as that whining starts again. But if it was rhetorical, why is one of the other tentacles lifting his wrist from the stones. Tomura catches his hand with one of his own and brings it to his lower stomach, "There, precious, can you feel that?" 

Dabi's brain short-circuits. He has a flat stomach, never been able to put on much weight with his quirk, hadn't noticed anything strange before, but he can feel it now. That there's a pressure here too. Can't feel the tentacles moving from the outside, can't see them. But he's so full that just putting his hand here is such a strong sensation of added pressure that it has his breath catching in the back of his throat. Tomura chooses that moment to press a sucker to his prostate, and his breath breaks on the hitch of a sob. Oh. Tomura promised to make him cry. The tears fall fat and heavy as new pleasure overwhelms his body. He sobs and moans as Sir fucks him so slowly, and strangely, on his new appendages, the one around his cock squeezing and coaxing until he's hard again even though his body doesn't feel like it has anything else to give. 

"Oh, firefly, you feel so good," Tomura moans softly against his neck, the tentacles around his limbs tightening as he starts to move a little faster. Dabi's insides twitch and flutter around him, his muscles liquid from how stretched they gone. "Fuck, baby," and he laces together some of their fingers where he's holding Dabi's hand against his stomach. Dabi has no idea how long Tomura has even been inside of him, but he knows that, knows that means that he's close and there's no way that he'll be able to take any more. 

No sound comes out of him even as his mouth opens around a keen when Tomura starts to cum. His insides are even fuller, even wetter, as he does, because he's cumming in the same thick spurts as he was able to gather his slick. And he doesn't stop, Even his lover seems a little surprised, making a soft sound in the back of his throat as he rubs his tentacles inside of him as he keeps cumming. When they both realize that he's still got the same control over his cock as he did before even as he pumps Dabi fuller and fuller. He keeps moving them the way he was before, each one only serving to send more and more of his cum pouring out of Dabi's stretched, puffy hole. 

He thinks he might completely lose his mind then, just floats so high as his lover keeps using his body, that he can't even tell up from down, that he doesn't even know when Tomura stops cumming. All he knows when his other hand eventually touches his cheek and that he's so sticky with his bloody tears. Dabi blinks deliriously up at him and Sir's eyes are so warm, and a little alien with their strange pupils. 

"There you are, darling, thought you passed out for a bit." He might have, he really, really might have because the sky past Tomura's shoulder seems darker than it did when he first laid him down. 

The tentacle around his cock tightens and strokes him again, the suckers starting to toy with his ladder and Dabi manages to cry out then. Makes everything more when that also has him tightening his muscles, which tells him he is still full and soaked around the appendages inside him. He shakes his head desperately, tongue too heavy to find his words. 

"You can do it, sweetheart, just one more time for me." Words gentle and encouraging as the coils shift so that he can stroke along Dabi's cock like he would with his hand. Lets him see his flushed head peeking through the coils as he moves and moves, Tomura's cock shifting so that the strange head can cup his prostate again and rub and stroke there too. Dabi feels more of his cum ooze out of his hole and whimpers. Those warm eyes spark a little, and Tomura smiles that dangerous smile again. The two other tentacles draw a little further back too, making the stretch a little less, "Won't it feel so good to just let go, baby boy?" And then Tomura presses their joined hands a little harder against his lower abdomen. 

Dabi doesn't know if he's ever felt more humiliated than he does at the way he moans when the external pressure has Sir's cum pouring out of him, so wet that he feels it absolutely soaking his thighs, the towel, making a puddle beneath him and it still doesn't stop. He gives another hard sob as his cock twitches, somehow his body betraying him even more when his orgasm washes through him again, but is dry. Barely manages a single drop of cum and Tomura coos at him. 

"Oh, precious," Before leaning in to kiss him and lick away the blood on his cheeks as he pulls his tentacles all the way out of him and pushes a little harder on his stomach. 

Dabi might actually pass out as the cum spills out of his gaping hole. 

///

Absolutely fucking passed out, he realizes when he wakes up an unknown amount of time later clean, dressed in his pajamas, and tucked into the lavish too-big bed. His stomach twists a little, his mouth feels dry, and his limbs are very heavy, but not hurting. Might not be hurting though because Dabi's practically numb from the hips to his knees. Feels the echoes of an ache, like how it does when he has Tomura fuck him with his cock and a strap at the same time, but the tentacles were a lot more than that. He should really be hurting more he thinks. He tries to push himself up a little and he immediately hears movement in the dim room. 

"There you are, firefly." Tomura sits on the edge of the bed, turning the lamp light up to a higher setting. "How are you feeling?" 

His throat is thick and a little raw, "Like you fucked me six ways from Sunday. Fuck, what time is it?" 

"Late, baby." Tomura reaches for a pill bottle and a glass of water by the nightstand. Dabi doesn't need to be told, takes the offered pills and gulps down the water. Duster refills the glass for him and when Dabi has finished that one and set it aside he catches his lover's sleeve and pulls at him. Tomura doesn't protest, climbing into bed with him and wrapping him up in his arms. Dabi tucks his face against his chest, still exhausted. "Did such a good job pretty boy, so perfect for me, so proud of you." Words pressed to the crown of his head alongside soft kisses as Tomura strokes along his back. Turns him back into a puddle immediately. "Love you so much, firefly." 

"Love you," but his words are slurred and sleepy already. Barely manages to stay awake long enough to realize that his lover's libs are back to normal before he's out again. 

///

He is, decidedly, a lot more sore when he wakes up the next morning. 

"Yeah, the neurotoxin must have worn off, here, you can have another dose of pain killers." 

"Neurotoxin?" 

"It's just a mild one, Ujiko tested it, I didn't think it did anything unless it was more concentrated, but you said you couldn't feel your lips last night." He doesn't even remember that conversation. Doesn't know if he's ever been that high in his subspace. "Do you feel alright otherwise?" 

He considers, "Yeah, I'm fine, Shig." Though his stomach protests with a loud growl. Makes his lover smile at him indulgently, and Dabi flicks him off. "Shut up." 

But they put on their robes and slippers and go to the private dining room that they were told would be set up for the League's use. He does not limp, no matter what that smug look his lover keeps giving him might say. They can hear the others through the door and they are all very pleasant when they greet them. Small talk, food, some work stuff, and Toga demanding that Tomura show them his new quirk if he's gotten it working. Shig agrees easily enough, and by the time they're done eating, have put their bathing suits back on, and reconvened back at the co-ed pool, Dabi is feeling mostly normal, though he's still a little sore and definitely not ever going to be able to look at takoyaki the same way again. 

Tomura gets into the pool and disappears beneath the water for a moment. When his head pops back out of the water he's blinking, his pupils horizontal once more and the gills on his neck twitching, opening wide before he gives one soft cough before he's turning his attention back to them. He moves a few of the tentacles out of the water and Dabi doesn't think he or Tomura were expecting for Twice, Toga, and Spinner to all burst into laughter. 

"Oh my fucking god, you were right! How did you know?" Toga is wheezing she's laughing so hard.

Spinner is trying to gasp for breath as he chokes out, "Only blow us off for sex. It either it worked and made them insanely horny or it didn't and sex was the consolation prize." 

"But tentacles? How scandalous!" 

"What other sea creature do you think Dabi would fuck?"

"I am going to burn you alive!" Means it too, his hands lighting up as he lunges for them, his face burning with his shame. Barely gets a step towards them though before slick coils of tentacles are catching him around his legs and his middle. And then gravity is gone as he's pulled from his feet. The hot spring water rushes over him as Tomura pulls him into the pool, dragging him in close so that his back is locked against the other man's chest, holding him in place with an arm as his extra limbs dart out to catch Toga, Twice, and Spinner before they can run out of his range. He drags the three of them in as well, making three loud splashes.

Dabi swears that he hears Compress mutter, "Children," as he gets into the pool more leisurely. He doesn't give a shit about being mature, he has a lizard to drown.  

Thanks for submitting!

[k-dokja]

synopsis: someone dies during your mission, that's never easy.

timeline: first year, before star vessel.

characters feature: geto suguru, gojo satoru.

relationship: classmates, friends.

notes: probably ooc as hell since i'm trying to narrow them down. originally written for gojo but then 75% in i realized gojo was an asshole so suguru has to lead the convo.

— you feel him before you hear him and you know that won't happen unless he wants you to see his approach. even then, you don't bother to acknowledge him and he gives no complaint when he sits down beside you. next to him, you once again feel the distance between you and the world.

it's strange, and alienating, but you can't stop it from impeding your thoughts and clouding your mind.

"you were nowhere to be found, had to search for you," suguru's easy words become once with the breeze when they enter your ears. it ignites a single cinder of irritation in you but the fire fizzles and then dies.

"i wanted to be alone," you say with pointed indignation. you hear him laugh. it's annoying and pathetic how he gets to you simply by doing no more than breathing, but maybe you are at fault for leaving your walls penetrable. then again, he was the one who came all the way to this rooftop to seek you out when you wanted to hide.

maybe you're justified in your annoyance.

"sorry for ruining your fun," he says, "but you're upset and i don't think you should be alone when you're sad."

you acknowledge him now. your glare is met with a single glance from him. his smile is resigned. it's not a declaration of victory, it has no reason to grate you further. but the reality is contradictory.

"...you shouldn't worry," you muster out your concede of defeat anyway, it's unreasonable to get mad at him, "i just need a moment then i'll be back on my feet."

"take all the time you need," he says, "all of us have to get used to death at some point, whether it's a civilian or somebody we know. it's unavoidable."

you flinch at the accuracy of his words. deep down, he makes sense, you know he does. no one smart would approach being a sorcerer without a healthy dose of pragmatism. but it sits ill in your stomach, the fire from before heats up again to boil your organs with an unfamiliar sickness.

"...no."

"no?"

you glare at him again. it's incredible how your eyes don't burn when you talk because your body is steaming from all of the emotions you're withholding. "no." you say. "the moment i become apathetic to death is the moment i stopped trying. i don't... i don't want to..."

it sounds silly. stupid. the rebellion of someone sinking and unwilling to admit they can't swim. this is why yaga-sensei kept telling you to temper your mind because getting emotional is no good. but you can't shut down the images of lifeless eyes staring back at you. memories of familiar faces turning indistinguishable replay in your head in a broken reel.

an endless loop without escape and maybe a hell of your own creation.

you swallow and turn away. you aren't going to have this conversation with him, not without coming out of it broken into dust when you're already fragmented.

"...hey," suguru's hand lands on your shoulder and your body turn rigid to stop pushing him away. "i'm not telling you to stop caring, i know you can't." he's trying to find the words to use. you know it because his breath hitches. "it's a part of our line of work, it's fine to grieve and you should grieve... but you have to be quick at picking yourself up since there are others to save too."

suguru breathes in, then out. "there are people we can yet save, we can't spend all of that time worrying about our mistakes and regrets."

"you make it sound easy."

"it isn't, but it has to be," you hear it, the resignation in his voice. "sometimes, we have to pick our battle and do whatever we can. we aren't invincible, nobody is."

"you're hurting satoru's feelings," you point out, unable to resist the opportunity to quip. "he'd argue fervently that he's as close to perfection as one can be."

but suguru only smiles, "i believe if i did, he'd have something to say about it," then, he turns his head back, his voice raised, "wouldn't you agree, satoru?"

to your surprise, an unexpected newcomer pops out from the wall behind the two of you. a mess of white hair, black glasses, and a grin that lacks the normal lustre. "oi, don't sell me out," despite what he said, satoru voluntarily steps towards you from his hiding place.

had it not for suguru's revelation, you don't think you would've noticed him. somehow, that makes you tired. "why in the world are you hiding?" you ask. "do you know how weird that is?"

satoru only shrugs when he reached you. "thought it was better to leave suguru to talk to you, i don't even know where to begin with this." it's weird to hear satoru admitting weakness, but you don't comment on it. he scratches the back of his neck, awkward out of nowhere. "it's not that i don't care enough to make an effort, it's that..."

"you might say something that triggers the wrong nerve?" you drawl. "like you did before?"

you hear suguru chuckles, but satoru only grins, "spot on," he says, "we do worry about you, you know, but some of us don't have the talent to deal with fragility like others." he nudges you with his foot.

you snort, momentarily distracted by his attitude, "asshat," you elbow back at his leg, "at least you're good at making me mad at something else."

"hey~ it's a talent," then he plops down behind the two of you, "better for you to be mad at something inconsequential~"

"well, we can't deny that he's uniquely equipped in pissing people off," suguru chimes in airily, you can't help but snickering at his comment.

"you guys, honestly..." surprisingly, you find yourself smiling. but then, a single thought touches you and steals that smile away. "...wait, i'm skipping class... and the two of you are here... oh shit."

you hear him before you feel him.

by skipping class, you'd sooner or later face the consequence of a pissed yaga-sensei and you had expected later rather than sooner. but apparently, with three fourth of the class missing, your teacher had no choice but to take the matter into his own hands.

you're already shivering by the time you turn back and meet his eyes. nothing but pure death.

"you fools."

the punches land down on the three of your heads too fast to react. briefly, your life, you accumulated past mistakes, your will to live, all of them flash in front of your eyes at once.

"ouch!"

"ack!"

"mercy!"

although, if there's any comfort to gain from this, at least his anger will be split three ways.

[aller-geez]

I stumbled upon @fuckin-sick-bih ‘s snzfic prompt earlier while scrolling, and it sounded like such a great way to torture my boys 🥵🥵🥵

I started writing, and ended up with 2500 words and 10 pages because it was just SO GOOD, I couldn’t stop (‘:

Writing prompt- (not mine)

Character A is trying to do something their brain has deemed Very Important (spoiler alert it's not) but their nose won't stop itching.

They keep sniffling and having to stop over and over to sneeze or wipe their nose on their hand or sleeve.

Whatever it is they insist they're very busy and B just watches in amusement as A's frustration mounts and B's arousal grows as A hitches again. Their workflow stalling again.

Until finally B has had enough of this, maybe A is getting too frustrated or tired or is giving in, and they take away whatever they're working with for the night. Alternately they help them finish it then wrap them up in blankets, dose them with cold/allergy meds, and snuggle up for a relaxing movie and a nap.

***** SIDENOTE: I’m so sorry if I’m rusty 🥸🫥🤧

Stretching out a slim arm to the other side of their large king size bed, Levi’s fingertips searched for the warm lump that was his boyfriend that should have been sprawled out next to him, but came up with nothing.

“Nnnnh?..” the petite man groaned with sleep still heavy on his eyelids. He attempted to wave his hand over the spot again with his eyes closed, hoping the wolf had just rolled over to the furthest side to get relief from the fever he had fallen asleep with. That was Remi of course.. He would always be there to knock some heads and would protect Levi from anything that made the mistake of crossing the wolf’s path, but he was no match for the common cold.

When his hand came up empty yet again, he mustered up every bit of energy he had in him to slowly squint open one bright blue eye, his leopard abilities allowing him to adjust to the dark room he laid in almost instantly. Levi quickly scanned the room that his boyfriend and him shared every night, expecting to see Remi sitting on the dark grey loveseat that they had in the corner, maybe quietly ticking away at his game console that he was always playing when he couldn’t sleep. But again, he was met with nothing; no trace that his boyfriend had even fallen asleep with him in the first place. But, Remi definitely did fall asleep with him… right?

The leopard lay there for a second, the hello kitty blanket that he slept with held tightly to his chest, and the comforter wrapped around him like a cocoon. When he had amassed enough energy to slowly will his other eye to open also, he stretched out his arms in front of him, a silent yawn shaking him as he sat up completely now.

‘Where is he?’ Levi’s brow furrowed in thought, trying desperately to recall the few hours prior when he last remembered seeing the wolf.

Suddenly, that oh so familiar sound of the other man’s congested cough was very audible through their bedroom door that was closed tightly, which was odd since they never had their bedroom door closed. “Downstairs?” He asked now to himself, swinging his slender legs out to the side of the bed and out of the amazing warmth that their blankets had stored. The cold air of their townhouse instantly made Levi shiver a bit as soon as his feet touched the floor, and he recoiled with a groan, pulling the top blanket off of their bed to wrap around his shoulders. Content with his solution, Levi put on his fuzzy leopard print slippers that sat just barely under the lip of their bed frame with the blanket dragging slightly on the ground as he walked. With great care, the leopard turned their silver doorknob ever so slowly as to not make any noise to alert his boyfriend. With how Remi got when he got sick, he wouldn’t be able to smell the white haired man anyway. Getting the door open, Levi ducked down to squat as he shuffled silently down their small hallway until he sat perched upon the top step of the dark brown carpeted stairs, peering through the wooden railing.

‘There he is~’ Levi purred to himself, watching his boyfriend as he sat sprawled out on the couch with his massive laptop covering his lap, a mountain of old tissues on the table next to him and the rest of the half empty box on the middle seat of the couch. His bloodshot eyes that normally glowed so brightly they would reflect back at him on his screen now were dim and tired looking, dark red circles under them and they scanned the screen of whatever he was reading. His thick black hair was unusually ruffled, sticking out in every different direction as his head was leaned against the back of the couch as he sat there. Pieces had stuck to his forehead from the sweat that resides there, no matter what temperature he was. The poor guy somehow looked more pale, but still more flushed at the same time, his nose extremely red and raw from how much he was already blowing and wiping at it incessantly, and his mouth was held slightly ajar as he struggled to breathe through his thick congestion. Just as Levi was about to give himself up from his hiding spot, Remi’s face began to twist into that same familiar expression, something the leopard could spot from a mile away. The man’s arched black eyebrows began to lace together on his forehead, and his breathing started to get uneven. Shortly, a pathetic moan could be heard from the wolf’s direction, and Levi couldn’t help but stay and enjoy the show before ruining the moment.

Remi’s sharp nose began to twitch ever so slightly, his mouth slowly hanging open more than it was prior as his breath hitched. ‘Hh..’ he breathed. Desperately, the large man swiped yet another tissue from the sad box next to him, and cupped it around his nose and mouth just in time to protect everything in front of him. “Hih’IITSCH’IIEW! HaaH’TSCH! Hhhh-“ The wolf sneezed harshly into the wad of tissues pressed to his face, which was followed by a thick sniffle and a frustrated exhale, his long fingers coming up to push the raven hair from his eyes that had fallen into them before he tossed the now bloody tissue to the side to join the rest that he had collected. It only took him a second to recollect himself and return his gaze to his computer, although he clearly was distracted. “Hh-,” He hitched again, but it was just a false alarm, leaving him in the throws of the pre-sneeze face for a moment.

The sad sight in front of him broke the leopard from his hiding spot, unable to watch anymore, and softly bounced down the stairs. As his feet hit the floor of the bottom story of the townhouse, the smaller man was completely in his boyfriend’s field of view now, although the wolf seemed to be in such a fog that it took him a few moments to notice the white hair of his mate standing in front of him.

“Baby, what are you doing out here?” Levi asked softly with concern on his freckled face as he looked over his boyfriend’s condition.

Remi couldn’t hide his surprise, unaware of his boyfriends presence until he spoke up finally. His watery eyes got big, the sharp inhale he took jarring that tickle that just wouldn’t let up and he had to turn to the side quickly with his face buried into the crook of his elbow.

“H’TSCHH” the stifle that exploded from him sounded painful on his chest, but it was better than letting some of them go at this point. “Nnnng..” He exhaled slowly afterward, grabbing yet another tissue from the box and wiping his nose, wincing at the rawness around his nostrils.

“I could’t sleep.. I kept sdeezing every time i got combfortable and I did’t want to wake you up. I kdow you have that big thidg at work tomorrow..” The wolf’s words began to trail off, his eyes focused behind Levi instead of at him. His voice already almost intelligible behind how congested his nose was from the previous hours he sat downstairs by himself. “Hhihhh… god dabd it!” Remi’s frustration was intensified, one finger coming up to rub at his nose desperately trying to get rid of this damn TICKLE.

“Baby.. you don’t have to do that. You know I wouldnt be upset..” Levi cooed back to his boyfriend, leaning down to gently place a kiss on his damp forehead before frowning. “Your fever sure set in quick this time.. Why don’t you let me run you a nice shower with the eucalyptus you like? After you get out, you can take some of the NyQuil that I picked up for you the other day?” Levi sat in next to the puddle on the couch that was his boyfriend, placing a petite hand delicately on Remi’s warm knee.

“Mehhh..” The larger man grumbled, “I dod’t have the edergy for a shower.. Plus, I FIDALLY got this laptop to turnd od, add — SNF! You kdow how lodg I’ve wadted to get mby mbusic off of this stupid thidg..” Running his fingers across the dinosaur of a laptop, he couldnt help but be proud that he at least got the junk to turn on finally.

“Yeah, but—..” the leopard stood up to protest, waving his hands in front of him frantically.

“No buts, Levi.. I probise I’ll combe up to joid you whed I’m dode, okay? It wont be lodg, I swear.” Remi waved his hand slightly in the direction of their shared bedroom that Levi had emerged from, shooing him away. With a sharp snort, Levi crossed his arms in front of him, a look of disapproval written on his usual cheerful features as he stood with a blanket around his shoulders, his pajamas on, and fuzzy slippers.

“I’m not going back to bed without you, so..” Levi stuck his tongue out playfully, his blanketed body crossing the room to get comfortable again in the dark grey love seat that was tucked in the opposite corner of the room. “I’ll just sit out here with you until you’re ready to go to bed.” The smaller man smirked at his miserable boyfriend who raised an eyebrow at his attitude.

“You kdow what? Fide, hadg out with mbe out here if you wadt, but I dod’t wadt this thidg to turnd off for sombe reasod and dot ever let mbe turn it back odn after. Cause its beend years sidce this thidg cabe on..” Remi’s cheeks started to dust a light shade of pink as he got more comfortable in the couch he was in, the same distracted look already starting to subtly appear on his face. Levi who was now curled up in the loveseat simply checked the time on his phone, taking a mental note of what it was before he set it on the arm of the chair he was in.

‘4:16’ He repeated in his head, resting his elbow on the arm next to his phone and leaning a freckled cheek against it , making himself comfortable. He knew it was only a matter of time before Remi would cave. Even that stubborn wolf had his limits.

Feeling Levi’s focus on him made the man squirm a little under his laptop, small unproductive sniffles constantly coming from his side of the room as he fought the blood and snot mixture that threatened to roll down his upper lip, occasionally taking time to swipe it away with his hoodie sleeve in between clacks of the keyboard and trackpad on the laptop as he worked.

After sitting in the loveseat for almost 45 minutes, the tired leopard almost gave up completely, convinced that this was the one and only time that his plan wouldnt work, and he would be trudging upstairs alone to finish the nights sleep. But after his patience was just about to break, Levi’s sensitive ears picked up the very faint sound of the other’s breath slowing down, the breaths he was taking suddenly more shallow than they had been. As his baby blue eyes panned up from their prior spot on the carpet and fell onto the man before him, he was greeted with a pleasant image. One that he usually would hate because he hated seeing the man he loved miserable, but he honestly just wanted him to come back to bed with him! Remi’s eyelids soon began to flutter, his breath hitching again as he tried to fight the urge that he knew wouldnt be satisfied but just a couple small sneezes. Unprepared, he tried to pinch the bridge of his nose just under his bridge piercing, but it was too late, it was already growing deep within his sinuses. What used to be a manageable irritation had bloomed into something that took all of his focus to contain. “Hah..” He breathed silently, hoping the small exchange of air wouldnt tempt his sensitive nose, but he was definitely wrong.

“H’IITSCHUIEW!! Hh’TSCHU!” He sneezed twice, more quickly than he could grab a tissue or even turn his head, and after he was able to open his eyes, the first thing in his field of view was the incredible amount of tiny blood splatters across his laptop screen. The wolf groaned loudly in disgust, but Levi could only watch from his front row seat, snickering to himself as he had lived with Remi for years.. It wouldnt take long now..

Almost as soon as the wolf could wipe off his screen with another tissue, being sure to get every blood drop off of it, the tickle in his nose returned at mock speeds. “H- Oh god..” He wined, his face already twisting into another build up.

“‘Tsch!! ‘Tsch! TSCHH!” The pained stifles felt like they would cause his head to explode any moment. He rubbed his temples in slow clockwise circles with his eyes closed for a second, and Levi could barely hold himself back from simply wrapping the large man in his arms and holding him on the couch.

Biting a full lip between his teeth, the leopard looked his poor boyfriend up and down for a second before standing up and closing the distance between them, resting one of his small hands on Remi’s hot scalp. He could feel the wolf’s head start to gently bob as he prepared himself for another painful onslaught.

“HHih’AESHIEEW! hhhh-…. hHEh’TSCHHHiew! Hehh’IITSCHU!! ‘TSCHIEEW!” Remi sneezed openly, covering the screen again with a dark red mist. The black haired man’s sneezes only continued to get more desperate, and they seemed to just drain everything out of him. A tissue was quickly yanked from the box again and thrust into the poor wolf’s hands as the fire that burned in his sinuses seemed to dwindle. He blew his bright red nose with a very wet sound into another tissue, the whole thing being too soaked to use afterward and causing him to have to snag yet another.

After Remi was able to catch his breath and open his eyes for more than two seconds, he whimpered pathetically and let the tissue in his hand roll off lazily to join his Kleenex graveyard. “You kdow, mbaybe I will try that DyQuil after all..” The wolf sighed softly completely defeated in his previous endeavor. He was too wiped out to argue with Levi anymore.

“Of course, Rem. Let’s gets you into bed, okay? I’ll even rub your back~” The leopard purred softly, placing one gentle kiss on Remi’s hot cheek and helping him up off the couch finally.

REMI BELONGS TO ME, AND LEVI BELONGS TO @thekinkyleopard 🖤🖤🖤

[lucysweatslove]

Updates regarding ADHD diagnosis and treatment!

The neuropsychologist finally billed me. By this, I mean I guess I was technically billed over a week ago, but I never received an email or any communication about said bill. I decided to log in to the portal yesterday to check, and I saw the invoice was just sitting there. It’s still ridiculous that the whole thing cost me $360, more ridiculous that thousands was billed to insurance, and also annoying that I could’ve had my report this last week if I had received communication that I was invoiced and had a balance to pay. But, at least it’s done, and I should hopefully have the full report sometime this upcoming week.

My insurance apparently did have an issue with the Strattera and did require a PA. I thought it needed that, then they filled it but my Wellbutrin was delayed which took another week… I ended up picking them both up at the start of June, and the pharmacy tech was all “oh it looks like insurance still needs a prior authorization for the atomoxetine.” She pressed some buttons and then it went through, only a $10 copay which is fine, but I got a mail letter for insurance recently basically stating that my medication had required a preauth and oh yeah a 30 day supply retails for over $1000?? But then it’s on the formulary and the “discount price” is only $68.30. It’s just weird to me that the pharmacy / pharmaceutical companies can say it’s basically $34.50/day (that’s $17.25 for ONE single capsule) if you don’t have insurance. Random rant- while I think insurance is great in general I wish routine healthcare was much more affordable without it and insurance could be used for the “oh shit” moments. Like car insurance- it doesn’t pay for gas or routine maintenance or new tires or whatever but will if you get into an accident (although I will say, gas is expensive but at least it’s not $34.50/day expensive). Yeah programs like goodrx exist and are great, but if anybody can use those, why the exorbitant pricing up front? Why not just… make things accessible? The people who need the lower prices the most are those who can’t afford insurance, may not have access to goodrx / maybe wouldn’t even know about it… idk.

Anyway I started the Strattera last week- maybe Wednesday? I can’t remember the exact day now. I’m only taking 18mg which is a pretty low dose but I am getting annoying side effects already. Hypersomnulence during the daytime (literally like 2hr long naps that I can’t fight off midday), but then sleep maintenance insomnia at night where I wake up at like 4AM, still tired, but I can’t fall back asleep easily. Also an increase in general aches (ironic to me as duloxetine, which also has norepi function, is often used for some chronic pain), headaches, and horrible tummy troubles (feels like the food poisoning all over again). Those could be related to my period though- it’s just worse than what I normally experience in my cycle. Thankfully I haven’t noticed any real effect on my heart- I don’t feel weird or fluttery which was a concern I had. But alsoX I don’t notice any effect yet on my executive functioning, which makes sense since it isn’t an instant medication and the normal starting dose for adults is 40mg (so I’m taking literally less than half of that). I am still trying it out, holding out hope that side effects will stop enough that I can increase the dose and try 36mg for a week or so before I see the psych NP next, but I’m not optimistic it’s going to be a good, effective medication for me.

[dissolving-mansion]

I'm having fun imagining a Malevolent x The Magnus Archives crossover.

******

A man walks into the Magnus Institute. Perhaps he is soggy or perhaps he is covered in soot. Perhaps he has a beard or perhaps gaunt serial killer-like cheekbones are completely unobstructed by facial hair. Either way, he radiates the energy of a man who hasn't eaten or slept in a long time and has more than the recommended dose of exercise for a man his age. He is dressed like a noir movie protagonist and his shoes look almost worn through. He is looking around nervously, as if he thinks the building and its staff might eat him alive.

******

Rosie passes the man on his way in and stops, pretending she needs to rearrange the files in her arms to hold them more easily. She watches him (discreetly) for a long moment as he seems to mutter to himself. She catches a dismissive "I don't want to hear it" and an annoyed "I *know* we're being watched" before his eyes swivel around to look at her.

He lets out a startled exclamation.

When he turns to look at her and Rosie Knows she is being observed by more than one thing.... But she works at the Magnus Institute, so she brushes the feeling aside and walks on.

All in all, this is not the most strange thing to happen here. Lots of statement-givers are like this. Rosie is just grateful that she's not the Archivist who will have to deal with this.

******

The man walks down to the Archives next (as anyone who owned any of the pairs of eyes that saw him would have guessed he would have gone).

He smiles and does his best impression of a half-way normal human being, going so far as to soften his far-too-posh voice into something he must think is normal and personable. He does not do a particularly good job at it but that does not phase Sasha at this point because she's worked with... Stranger things than a guy who probably just needs a good nap. Things she's better off distracting herself from.

Business as usual, she decides with a sigh. She processes him and waives him through to Jon before returning to the last probably-not-proper-archival-work-but-Sasha-does-not-remember-enough-about-proper-archival-work-to-question-it task Jon gave her.

She hears the click of the door closing behind him and pays him no more mind.

******

The man enters the office with a demeaner of quiet, slow observation. He is so carefully silent that Jon does not even look up from his paperwork until he hears the squeak of the old chair on the other side of the desk.

Jon looks up and sputters.

Across from him is a man about Jon's age — maybe a bit older — *staring* at Jon. His face is almost expressionless; cold and still as a statue. Despite that, Jon can feel his impatience, feel it rising the longer Jon takes to respond.

"Can I help you?" Jon asks, and the irritation in his tone not entirely put-on. Who is this man? Did one of his assistants let him in? He bets it was Mar—

The man laughs, sharp and bitter and almost maddening, immediately sending Jon's thoughts to a grinding halt.

"Are you the Archivist?" The man asks, sounding amused, but there are teeth under those words. The heat in them makes Jon's nerves feel like a live wire.

"Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute," Jon says slowly, almost cautiously (but he cannot admit to himself why his instincts tell him to be cautious). "Yes, that's me."

"Fucking cultist," the man mutters, seemingly more to himself than to Jon but it makes Jon's hackles rise anyway.

"Excuse me?" Jon says, summoning as much righteous indignation as he can muster, "If you came here to just insult me then you can leave."

The man looks at Jon again and Jon watches him release whatever tension he was holding. He is still frowning but at least Jon no longer feels held at gun point.

"I'm sorry," the man apologises, practically leaking sincerity. "It's just, it's just been a long week. I'm only here because I made a bet with something I should not have and he finds this kind of thing extremely funny."

"... Alright," Jon accepts (for a few reasons, only one of which is the fact that that sounds more or less like a half-way decent apology). He intentionally ignores the fact that the man said 'something' instead of someone, because between Prentiss and Leitner he could do without hearing about anything else that is 'spooky' ever again.

Jon's hope that the world of the supernatural, at its limits, is already known to him dies the second the man open reaches over his desk and turns his tape recorder on. When he speaks, eyes locked with Jon's, that hope is buried.

"Statement of Arthur Lester, regarding the truth. About all of it."

[amazingmsme]

3E? 🤨

Sorry this took forever, I was trying to finish my spiderverse fic while there was still hype lol. But this one was so much fun & it gave me the perfect excuse to write a self indulgent fic for the book I finished earlier this year, aka Night Film

(For those who don’t know, this was in regards to an obscure media ask game) So without further ado, here’s a quick lil fic for my new favorite trio!

Wet Blanket Attitude

Nora was already showered and in her pajamas by the time they made it back to Scot's town house. He offered Hopper a fresh change of clothes and he stripped right there in the living room, slipping on the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. Scott shook his head and chuckled fondly as he made his way to the bathroom, following Hopper's lead and stripping down the hall before turning into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Even though the hot shower was exactly what he needed, he was exhausted and didn't want to stand any longer. He exited in less than 10 minutes, fully dressed in plaid pajama pants and an old graphic tee he got in high school that had really seen better days. Holes dotted the entirety of the shirt, allowing pale skin to peak through. He collapsed on the couch, sandwiched between the two goons he somehow came to adopt.

"Okay old man? You look tired," Hopper spoke up on his right. Scot turned to give him a severely unamused glare.

"Yeah Hop. I am tired. Exhausted in fact," he snapped. "Maybe next time don't leave your partner in the dust."

"Maybe next time you should keep up," he quipped back, cocky smirk and all. Scot rolled his eyes with a huff, sinking deeper into the cushions.

"Just shut up. What are we watching anyway?" he asked, pointing at the tv, the only light source in the dark room.

"I dunno, just some crap Nora turned on."

"Hey! It is not crap!" she interjected, defensive over her choice of shows. "It's Little Shop of Horrors!"

"A musical? After what I just went through? Absolutely not, you might as well just shoot me," Scot grumbled, snatching the remote straight out of her hand. She made a noise of complaint as it was ripped from her grasp. "What gives?"

"My house, my tv, I decide what we watch," Scot sassed, searching through the channel guide until he found something suitable, settling on reruns of King of the Hill. He relaxed as he listened to Dale's classic paranoid ranting and shivered slightly as a chill ran through his body.

He looked to his left when he felt a hand tap his shoulder and saw Nora holding up the edge of her blanket. "You cold?"

Scot shook his head and turned his attention back to the tv. "No thanks, I'm fine."

"But you look cold! Doesn't he look cold?" Nora asked Hopper for backup. He glanced at him from the corner of his eye, not really wanting to look away from the screen.

"Uh, sure," he agreed, because it was just easier to just go with whatever Nora was saying than trying to argue.

"I think the doctor's prescribing you a dose of my body heat," she said matter of factly. Scot furrowed his brows, but before he could question her, the blanket was thrown over him and she was pressed against his side. Scot let out a long, suffering sigh but let it happen, too tired to push her away. Besides, that would've been rude.

"Oh no, it's worse than I thought! Quick Hop, I think he needs a double dose!"

Hopper's lips quirked up in an amused smirk. He pressed the back of his hand to Scot's forehead and decided to play along. "You're right, he's freezing!"

"You two are ridiculous," he said, barely holding back a chuckle.

Nora scoffed, "Someone has to be." Scot looked at her, narrowing his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you got a stick up your ass. You take things too seriously," Hopper chided in, still staring at the screen.

"Because this is a serious investigation!" he defended himself. "And I'd appreciate it if you two buckled down and treated it as such," he scolded.

"Hey, I'm the one who found the list of guest names! Which, you're welcome by the way," Hopper sassed.

"The polite thing to do would be to say thank you," Nora prompted. Scot merely scoffed in amusement.

"For what? Being a smart ass?"

"Okay, now you're being one," Hopper said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I think someone just lost their blanket privileges," he said matter of factly, yanking the blanket off of Scot, and consequently, Nora.

He tried to hide the shiver that coursed through his body when the cold air hit his skin. Nora lunged across his lap to try and wrestle the blanket back. "Hey, you can't punish me too!"

"Maybe you should sit in the middle then," Scot suggested.

"No way, everyone knows the sides are the best part of the couch!" she argued.

In their playful tussle, Nora happened to accidentally squeeze Hopper's thigh. He jerked away and barked out a laugh, hand flying up to cover his mouth. Nora's eyes lit up with mischief.

"Give me the blanket and I might go easy on you," she bargained.

Hopper glared at her and wrapped the blanket around him tighter. "Do your worst."

Nora didn't need to be told twice, immediately setting to work and going for his side. He twisted and bent over in an attempt to dislodge her hands, but her fingers already poked and prodded anywhere she could reach.

In the short time they'd known each other, neither Scot nor Nora had even heard him laugh. So it came as a shock to see him curl in a ball, hiding his face in the soft blanket. His long legs kicked out and flailed as Nora's hands slipped inside his fuzzy shield and skittered over his belly.

Hopper was leaning against Scot's shoulder, laughing loudly right by his ear. Maybe if he wasn't so tired, he'd let it slide; after all, the kid could stand to lighten up, but this was too much noise for Scot's liking. Not to mention Nora was laying across his lap in order to reach her giggly victim. So Scot was quite literally trapped in the middle of a tickle fight with no foreseeable escape... If he wasn't careful, this could end badly.

"It's pretty late and we all had a rough day, so I think I'm gonna head off to bed," he spoke up above the loud laughter as he tried to worm his way out of the prison he found himself in. "Just try to laugh a little quieter," he teased Hopper, shooting him a wink.

"What? No, you can't leave!" Nora protested. "C'mon, just stay 'til the end of this episode!" she pleaded, not letting him get up from the couch.

He looked up in disbelief. "Nora, the episode just started," he said in a deadpan tone. She giggled, but not as much as Hopper was from her nails skittering over his neck.

"So? It gives us the perfect amount of time!" she chirped. Scot narrowed his eyes, giving her a skeptical look.

"To do what?" he dared to ask.

"To do this!" she exclaimed, catching him completely off guard by tickling up his ribs. He choked out a laugh before he could stop himself, his entire body going tense.

“N-Noraha! What’re you-“

“Tickle fight! Duh!” she mocked, hands never ceasing their work. Scot thrashed and tried to crawl off the couch, only for her to grab his ankle and pull him back.

“Nohoho! It’s too lahahate for thihihis!” he protested through his laughter. He snorted rather loudly when she dug under his arms to tickle his pits, turning bright red from embarrassment.

“Aww that’s so cute! I didn’t know you snort when you laugh!” she cooed. Scot yanked the blanket from Hopper’s lap to hide his blushing face and hopefully muffle his giggle fit. Nora had no trouble skittering about his torso, looking to Hopper for help. “Aren’t you gonna help? I mean, this opportunity doesn’t come along every day.”

Hopper’s amused smirk quickly morphed into a downright sinister grin as he made a show of cracking his knuckles. Scot shook his head, but the endless stream of laughter spilling from his lips did nothing to deter him.

“Well then, I’d be an idiot to pass up on something like this,” he teased, grabbing his legs in a headlock. Scot’s eyes widened and his thrashing doubled.

“No! Cohome on guys, l-let’s just gohoho to bed! W-we ahahall had aha long dahahay!” he tried reasoning with them.

“Yeah, and this is a great way to unwind! I mean, just imagine how happy and relaxed you’ll be when we get through! Think of it like therapy,” Nora rambled on, playfully pinching up and down his sides.

“Thihihis ihis nowhere near theheherapy!” Scot argued, but the wide smile on his face said otherwise. He’d never admit it, especially not to them, but it kinda felt good to laugh so much after an absolute shit day.

But then Hopper started scratching underneath his toes, and Scot immediately vetoed that fleeting thought.

Of course they didn’t plan on tickling him for the entire duration of the episode, only for about halfway through. (Which was still too long in Scot’s opinion.)

As soon as they granted mercy and let him go, he flopped against the back of the couch, face still pink and panting for breath.

“You two are downright cruel. Never do that again,” he ordered.

“Nah, I think it should be a regular thing. Doctor’s orders to cure that wet blanket attitude of yours,” Nora teased, looking rather smug. Scot groaned.

“I’m not even a wet blanket. If anyone here classified as one it’s Ponyboy over there,” he said, weakly gesturing to Hopper.

“Huh?” he asked, looking just as clueless as Nora.

“The Outsiders? Stay gold, Ponyboy?” he questioned, waiting for the reference to click. When it didn’t, he sighed and sat up.

“They don’t make you kids read any good books in school these days,” he complained, mostly to himself. He finally stood up and stretched, his back popping loudly.

“And just because I’m heading off to bed now doesn’t mean I’ll let you off the hook for that little stunt. I’ll cash in my revenge tomorrow, so beware,” he warned, already walking down the hall to his room.

The two watched him leave, sitting in silence until Nora spoke up.

“You think he’ll actually do it?”

“Nah. He’s all bark, no bite. We got nothin’ to worry about,” Hopper insisted.

Oh how wrong they were.

[holly-fixation]

Another Part to Hurt

Summary: Sephiroth’s wing appears during his time in Wutai. He managed to keep it hidden from all except his two Second Class friends. But a forced checkup in the laboratory disintegrates his control, and Hojo forces him back to his old room for extensive study. New tests for a new limb. Another part of him to stab, burn, open, and pluck.

Based on this ask by @altocat . 

Trigger warning: Self harm. 

Everything in Sephiroth’s soul told him to avoid the lab. Every corner of his mind ran rampant with the single possibility of Hojo discovering his secret. He wanted Hojo dead. He could do it. He should do it. He tried. But something deep inside forced fear into his chest. Some manipulation stopped him even now. 

The night it sprouted, the red eyed creature from his dream finally captured him, but somehow- for some reason- held him softly and petted clawed hands and tentacles in circles along his back, despite his desperate struggling and thrashing to get away. Since then, he stumbled through controlling and hiding it. Mainly hiding. How would his comrades react if they saw him like that? They called him The Demon of Wutai. This would only add to that. The only exception were the two Seconds that wouldn’t leave him alone. They followed him after he ran- flew- away the one evening it popped out again. He never expected them to ‘help’. Well, they helped in the only way two completely confused boys could. Still, they never told another soul. 

…but that only delayed the inevitable. He knew he was running out of time.

The appointment was today, his new physical to ‘keep him performing in top condition’. Just another excuse to take from or inject things into him. Another chance for those black glasses to block the inquisical analysis in the scientist’s eyes. Hojo always saw through him, no matter how thick or tall he made the walls around him. He spent the night before trying to plan, trying to find the single tactic, the single control of emotion or faintest shift of expression that would maybe convince the scientist that nothing had changed. 

The bags under his eyes nearly dragged them closed when morning finally came, and the new director kindly insisted he attend his appointment anyway, just to get it out of the way. After only one night of no sleep, but multiple days of abnormal nightmares even for him, since the moment he learned he’d be going back to the lab, he found himself with even weaker defenses against whatever Hojo planned next, while his own tossed plans were more useless than dust. 

Back in the lab. Back to questions he must answer. Back to those stupid annoying lights the scientist constantly shined in his face. Luckily, he could brush most of the requests off with simple, basic, bare minimum answers without suspicion. If he could stay focused enough, he could leave freely. Or kill the scientist. Whichever came first. 

Hojo hummed before clicking the light off and writing something on a clipboard. “I can imagine I’m not the first to say you need more rest.”

Sephiroth only glared, blinking to adjust his eyes and staying silent. 

“I thought we took care of your sleeping habits. Do you need a higher dose?”

“I’m fine,” He grunted, but Hojo didn’t believe that. He added another detail to maybe push the scientist to another topic. “Just a few bad nights.”

“Hm.” Hojo turned to a desk and began preparing a needle. “And your diet?”

“I’m eating regularly if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You’re eating differently.”

Sephiroth’s stare hareded. “If you mean I’m eating real food, then yes.”

“Cooked by one of the Seconds, correct?”

“You said you wouldn’t-”

“I will not touch them. You are my only concern. We may have to adjust your meals to ensure proper nutrition. Not too inconvenient.” He returned, black glasses blocking his eyes. “Arm.”

His eyes met the needle, a sinking feeling seizing his throat. What if there’s something in his blood? What could he possibly do about that? He hesitated, glancing down at his own veins. In his sleep deprived state, he didn’t consider physical changes he couldn’t hide. 

“Arm, Sephiroth.”

It might take time to find something new, right? There was a chance? Could he possibly be back in Wutai before Hojo discovers anything different? He snapped his arm up angrily, trying not to show the thoughts and panic zipping through his mind. 

Hojo glared at him, but took the sample regardless. Only the usual sting made its way from the wound. Nothing more. 

Once the vial was full, the scientist removed the needle, holding it up to his glasses to check the volume. “That should be enough…” He mumbled before moving to the microscope on the desk. A moment of silence passed as he prepared the slide, placing a single drop of blood on the glass.

Sephiroth crossed his arms, trying to seem frustrated at the waste of time, which wasn’t too far off from his true feelings on the situation. “Are you done here?” 

“Just another moment.” The scientist clamped the sample before adjusting the lens and looking into the scope.

No. He didn’t know what would happen if Hojo saw something in the scope. Sephiroth stood, heading for the door despite the ‘request’. He heard a click before he reached the door. The handle locked. He pulled it once. Twice to be sure. He hoped Hojo wouldn’t be crazy enough to lock them in the same room, but he was wrong. Maybe he can break the door before-

“Get back in the chair,” Hojo hissed before turning to him. “We’re not finished.”

“I think we are.”

Break the door. 

“Something’s in your blood, and I need to find out why for your sake, boy.”

Boy. The term echoed in his mind, and he winced softly. 

Break the door. 

“I am perfectly healthy and exactly the same,” He lied. 

Hojo crossed his arms. He didn’t approach. He only glared. Why was that worse? Why was that so much worse?  “Tell me the truth.”

Sephiroth knew he had to change this topic by force. He marched to the scientist and glared down. “We are done here.”

“Clearly, we’re not.”

Sephiroth didn’t expect Hojo to suddenly grab his arm with the force of a vice. The grip tight, fingers digging into his flesh. 

You were born beyond others. Beyond everyone else. If you concern yourself with petty, simpering little connections, you will weaken and become no better than the bottom-feeders that leech off of your abilities. You must always remember that you are above such vanities, Sephiroth. You must be stronger, smarter, greater than all of them put together. That is how you will survive. You cannot settle for anything less. Not ever.

You are barely worth the gifts you’ve been given. All your life, I’ve had to put up with your constant pathetic defects. Your WEAKNESS.

Two memories assaulted him at once. One when he was a young child. One from right before deployment. Suddenly he felt like a scared child and yanked with all his strength. “Let go!”

He ripped Hojo off the ground, tearing out of his grip. 

The moment he was free, the scientist slammed into the wall next to the door, and his pitch black wing broke out of his back. 

No.

Feathers from the sprout filled the room like sawdust, floating to the ground and forming a carpet of black quills around him.

His suddenly erratic breathing destroyed his control. He couldn’t retract it. And even if he could, he couldn’t hide the feathers. 

No. 

Maybe Hojo didn’t see it. Maybe he still had enough time to leave, to escape. He took a step back.

“Boy.” 

Every shred of fear forced him to freeze. That tone came with memories, survival like instincts he thought he suppressed to only push through his time in this lab. His head spun with his stampeding heart rate. His sight blurred, one eye fully dilated and the other thin as a needle from absolute panic, adrenaline. Not the adrenaline of battle. Not adrenaline he could use. Adrenaline that drowned him, suffocated him, all rational thought rotting away. 

Hojo pushed himself off the wall, his hands and face bloody from the sharp cracks from impact. But the moment his deathly glare hit Sephiroth, he stepped back. 

He knew those eyes, those accursed analyzing eyes that burned into his soul, reading the wing, reading each feather, the joint, the size, gods forbid the potential. It curled around him, protecting him like a shield, like it wasn’t the cause of what was about to come.

Why is he frozen?! Why won’t he leave?

“...I’ll inform your superiors you won’t be returning to the war for a while.” Oh no he had a plan. “Until then, you’re returning to this lab.”

The lab?

The Lab?

He twitched at the thought, trying to harden the look in his eyes. “No.” It didn’t sound like him, not a sliver of strength in his voice, his wing tightening. 

“You don’t know the limits, capabilities, or possible internal side effects from this growth. We don’t know what it's doing to you, and if it’s causing problems, we must address them now.”

Was ‘growth’ a correct word for this? His anxiety claimed him, he needed a compromise of sorts. Something. Anything to get out of here. “Take all the samples you want, so long as I can leave.”

Hojo held up his palm in question. “Why would I do that when I get more results with you here?”

He unconsciously shook his head, and he gripped the door handle so hard it snapped. An accident, but he didn’t regret it.

The scientist groaned. “Are you really going to run away? Are you that weak?”

He hated that word. Weak. A one man army harmed by a single sneering scientist. Weak. “You don’t have the authority to keep me here.” He tried to counter. Gods he tried.

“That is simply untrue and we both know it.”

The child in him screamed. He didn’t want to go back. He wanted his friends. He wanted the outside. The rain. The freedom. He didn’t want to go back to the lab. Even the mindless war was better than the lab.  “Let me tell the Seconds.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Just my friends,” he stated, strengthening his gaze. He needed a way to avoid emotion, that was the only way he had a chance to see them, something that might benefit this company.  “Five minutes. They’ll need to prepare for battle without me. The more warning, the better.”

“No. No one can know of your condition until it’s safe.”

His eyes widened for the slightest hint of a second, his mouth opening and closing in time. He went silent again. 

“What?” Hojo spat, staring impatiently. “What were you about to say?”

Sephiroth glared into his black glasses, trying to fight every inkling to escape. Maybe if he didn't answer, it would seem like a comment he swallowed? 

Hojo's eyes only hardened in return. “What about those boys, Sephiroth. What did you do.”

He almost cursed. Hojo could practically read his mind since he was a child. It was infuriating. Hiding it never worked. The moment the scientist’s question targeted the truth, his body wouldn’t help him hide any longer, so he answered lowly, “...They know.”

“So this isn’t the first time?”

He was damned if he answered by gaining more questions, or damned if he didn’t for more than insubordination. He looked into his wing to avoid the black eyes.

“When did it first appear?” Hojo continued casually, but he was already starting his analysis and test. 

“...I will answer your questions, and let you take all the samples you want, if you let me talk to them.”

He scoffed. “I already said no. Do you really think I’d let you leave looking like that? I don’t need rumors spreading until we know what it is.”

“...” Sephiroth said nothing. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

Hojo only glared, crossing his arms as well as supporting his damaged wrist. 

A few minutes passed in curious silence, a few breaths echoing softly off the walls as neither of them moved. Sephiroth clenched his back, forcing the limb under his control, and the wing retracted into his skin almost instantly. The break and tear in his coat were the only indication the limb existed in the first place. 

Though clearly somewhat impressed, Hojo didn’t budge. “You’re staying, Sephiroth. I’ll inform the director to remove your key card access in the meantime.”

His inhuman eyes widened in angry shock. 

“Oh yes. Ask me again. See what else I can take away. Please ask again.”

And he thought he was trapped before. Now he was forced to move to his old room, back to where it all started. Back to the eyes in the corner. 

* * * 

How long has it been? Five days? A week? Two weeks? Sephiroth’s circadian rhythm was already failing from multiple days within this windowless lab and cell. Every new experiment grew worse than the last. 

At first, Hojo tried getting a reaction out of the limb, a reflex, a twitch, anything. No physical damage from outside the wing caused any pain. No injections, no cuts, no burns, no tears. It would sustain damage without passing on pain, and at first it seemed these tests wouldn’t be so bad. No pain, no problem. 

Sephiroth felt relieved. He only felt the location of all touch or attacks. Maybe Hojo didn’t find a new way to hurt him?

Until the day the scientist decided he wanted to study one of his flight feathers, and, after much trial, managed to yank one of them out of Sephiroth’s skin. 

White hot pain claimed his sight and he instantly attacked, unconsciously breaking the instrument and the scientist’s hand in single motion. 

Hojo stumbled back, grasping his hand with not so much as crying out. 

Sephiroth’s hands were shaking. He clenched his arms as his wing wrapped around him, digging his nails into his skin. He panted and hissed, despite the minuscule injury. He only lost a feather. One feather. He never felt more agony in his life. And it was still going. His entire body burned from the epicenter of the pluck, itching to destroy the attacker. He turned his back to the scientist, hiding him from view. Yet even after a few minutes passed, and the scientist got his barings, he was still shaking, eyes wide with instincts he fought. He might actually kill Hojo. Would that dream finally come-

“You agreed to as many samples as I want,” Hojo snarled. 

Sephiroth heard footsteps and tightened against the approaching enemy. “I…”

“You will cooperate, boy.” 

But he was still twitching. Still confused. Still blood thirsty. With only another disappointed command from Hojo, despite both of their injuries, testing resumed. The only difference was a nameless labtech followed Hojo's commands to make up for the damaged hand. 

Every moment in examination rooms forced his wing out and extended. He hated it. On his own, he retracts it as often as possible. After the reaction to his feather, he didn’t want to risk anything, and he still hated every touch on the feathers beyond his own.

They injected it. They cut it open, moving and observing the innards of the limb. Only when they hit the bone did he react in mindless agony, attacking every doctor in the room, despite the level of anesthesia pumping through his body. It was more than pain. It was something deeper, instinctual, primal. Something carved into his very DNA. Into his soul. 

Did Hojo think he didn’t know about the meetings? How after Hojo presented his limb to the board, they debated ‘clipping’ it? To ‘keep him under control’? As if he would abandon the battle by flying away simply because he could fly at all? 

Of course his impossible flight aided him in battle. That seemed to be the deciding factor as to whether or not they harmed him more. 

Harm. 

The only thing this limb caused was harm. The moment it sprouted, he tried to hide it, leaving his comrades behind as he went ahead. His friends, he harmed them, it harmed them, because they ran after him, and ended up ambushed. It harmed his freedom, trapping him back in this lab. It gave more power to Hojo, as if he didn’t have enough. He didn’t even know what the tests were for anymore. He needed to leave. He wanted an escape…

He was sitting on his bed at the end of the night, these thoughts running through his head. The wing wrapped around him for comfort as it always had. 

The only things it was good for were comfort and sleep. That’s it. Tucking inside of it, wrapped and warm, bloomed a calm feeling in his chest. Most days it would be enough for him to get some rest before the next set of tests. Most days. 

Something hit him, a realization that burned his mind. This wing is only good for two things, and it only aids when he feels weak. 

It's a weakness.

For all his speed and increased mobility in battle, it was only a weakness, shedding feathers everywhere, perhaps to keep Hojo from yanking more out. 

Pathetic. Absolutely disgraceful. At least attempt to fight back, boy.

Hojo’s voice rang in his ears and he winced. His wing tightened at the memory, trying to compress his feelings away. 

You are important. You're special. One that the planet has never seen before and never will again. You’re Sephiroth. You’re perfect.

But he never felt perfect. He never seemed perfect. He rubbed his temples softly, a pitiful attempt to counter the assault from his own spiraling thoughts. Why was night always like this? Why was he thinking about this now?

You cannot allow yourself to be consumed by your weaknesses and limitations. I did not cultivate all this time and attention just so that you could waste my efforts on nonsense.

His eyes snapped forward. That was it. That’s why. Because he was never perfect. He was always weak. Always limited. Even his wing, as grand and graceful as it appeared, only served him in comforting his weakness. 

Weakness.

Weaknesses. 

Limitations.

Limits.

Limit. 

Limit break.

Break them. 

Break all limits. 

Break the weakness. 

A darkness came over him and flooded his gaze. He grabbed the edge of the wing with his right hand and the joint over his head with his left. Break the weakness. He stood up, moving to a wall and pressing his back against it. He wasn’t thinking. His body moved automatically. He hated this wing. He hated everything it brought. It was weak. Useless. And not worth the time and energy he wasted with it. No more.

He pulled, yanking the black feathers, yanking the joints and the bones he felt beneath the skin. He winced at the odd throbbing through his bones but he pulled again, twisting the joint at his back, not a single thought given as to why his own force caused him abnormal pain. His breath bated. His eyes fogged. The only thing he knew was he needed to do this. 

It wasn’t enough. Pulling wasn’t enough. He needed damage. Something to activate the break, some kind of catalyst to destroy the limb. A single crack to chisel away this unusable weakness. He slammed it against the wall, his stance nearly failing after each impact, denting and cracking the drywall to large chunks of debris. 

After five hits, nameless doctors ran into the room to stop him, tranquilizers in hand, ready to shoot him like a crazed animal.

After five hits, the joint cracked, and the yell that left Sephiroth’s throat shook the room. His wing wrapped around him as tightly as he could while it shivered and trembled, tensing and twitching. Each dart of the launched chemicals either bounced off the feathers, or stuck into him like a bull’s eye. But it didn't matter, because his wing was immune. But it still needed to leave, and it needed to leave now. 

He grit his teeth as he pulled and twisted again, forcing the torque to cause more snaps and cracks of the bone. Just a little more. Just a little more. 

He screamed. Sharp, shattering bones pierced through the black feathers in a terrible confetti of black, white, and red. The extruded joints grasped the last shred of the muscle and ligaments holding them together, sending pure agony through his mind as he kept ripping through it. The bones scraping against bones was unlike an agony he ever felt before, and it took all he had to keep trying.

“Sephiroth!”

That snarled voice flicked color back to his vision. 

The door opened again, and Hojo rushed through. “What the hell are you thinking, boy?!” When the soldier didn’t even flinch at the tone, Hojo reached over the wing and grasped his arms. “Answer me, Sephiroth.” He growled, knowing no matter what state the soldier was in, he couldn’t disobey. 

Sephiroth panted, still pulling, still groaning, still tearing and ripping regardless. He didn’t bother pushing Hojo away because this wing was he top priority. The agony forced his inhuman eyes closed with sharp winces. He barely recognized his own voice when he finally answered between strained breaths, “Removing… The weakness…”

“Stop this at once!” The command fell on deaf ears.

With one final rip, he tore the wing from his body with bursting crimson and shattering bones. Ebony quills tainted with the red of his blood as he dropped the mass to the ground. He fell to his knees and gasped. He didn’t even realize he was screaming, trying to grasp at the pathetic nub sticking out of his bleeding back, plumes sticking to his uniform with drying blood as an adhesive. A chunk of it remained, small and alone, the first few inches that stuck out of his coat, open and pulsing and gushing with the slightest twitches in some kind of futile attempt to locate its missing half. 

He was losing too much blood. He was going to pass out. 

After his scream claimed the last of his breath, he panted, only hissing at any movement as a fuzzy lightness claimed his head, his body heavy and light at the same time. He knew what was coming. His eyes were still closed, but the pain began to numb. Finally… finally…

Something touched his left shoulder and he flinched. He tried to move away, but he hit the exposed numb against the wall and spazzed at the jolt through his body. It took a few seconds to numb again, but that thing was still on his shoulder. It was…soft. What? Confused enough to react, he forced his sky blue eyes open. 

Hojo stared back at him, eyes blocked by black glasses. Sephiroth couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. Anger? Disappointment? The silence before the storm? The expression on his face completely countered the touch at his shoulder, its small touch nearly a pet on the leather of his coat. 

Weak. Perfect. 

Weak and perfect.

No more weakness. 

He didn’t have long to wonder, because Hojo jammed a needle, a tranquilizer, into his leg. With the combination of the chemical and blood loss, his sight darkened and his body fell limp within seconds. 

The next thing he knew, he was in an operating bed, the nub of the wing wrapped in bandages, with multiple technicians surrounding him, only watching. 

Now he was a danger to himself. Now he required constant observation for the next 72 hours. 

…at least they can't hurt him anymore…

* * * 

He expected so much from Hojo, some punishment he couldn’t stop, or prepare for, or even think of. Maybe a month long mako procedure. An updated test for pain endurance. A new monster to contain without harming. A new summon. Something to punish him for the wing.

Yet Hojo did nothing beyond the usual experiments, samples, and having the remainder of the limb at his back treated. He also took the wing itself, and gods knew what he was doing with it. 

Although, Sephiroth didn’t care. With the war in Wutai and no new limb to test, he knew the scientist would run out of excuses to keep him here eventually. He just needed to wait. Maybe another week or two. 

Five days after the incident, the nub fully healed. He figured it was safe to finally retract it. It entered without issue, and for a moment he finally seemed like his old self again.

Another mistake. 

Black and blue blemishes bloomed and boiled from his back, his shoulder, to his right arm, half his chest, and his right leg, quickly pressing against the surface of his skin as if trying to break free. He watched, confused and frustrated as he analyzed until the bubbles of blue fizzled to calm, leaving the bruises behind in a burn-like pattern, nearly blisters on his skin.

He poked one. Sure enough, the resulting discomfort stung the same as a normal bruise, despite the phenomenon. What did he do? Would these heal, or was he stuck like this now?

More tests. More analysis. Still nothing. No matter the sample, even directly from the bruises, everything seemed perfectly healthy. The few combat trials Hojo demanded barely changed, only the slightest differences in Sephiroth's attacks to make up for the unfortunate discomfort. 

Another week of healing passed before the bruises faded. All tests came back neutral or negative. The wing didn’t have any long term or damaging health effects. It was over. Why was he still here?

“A final test, Sephiroth.”

Sephiroth glared at the scientist in front of him. They tracked everything about him, took all the samples they pleased, and even calculated the strength and speed of his wing under the right conditions. What else was there to test?

“Take out your wing,” He stated simply, and the skeptic look in the inhuman eyes only twisted to bewilderment. “Then retract it, and you may leave.”

The soldier stared with wide eyes, slowly shaking his head. 

“Every test says the same; your wing has grown back. Take it out.”

But Sephiroth was just as confused as before. “‘Grown back’…?”

“Oh yes,” Hojo confirmed. “Your bruises restored the wing completely, as far as we can tell.”

Sephiroth took a step back, glancing down and trying to block the scientist out of his sight. He focused on the feelings of his back, trying to weave through to his own skeleton. Sure enough, it was there, laying in wait, ready to fly. He lowered his head and crossed his arms, bracing against them as he tensed his back. 

The wing broke out of his back with the same flutter of quills, as if he never tore it off in the first place. 

He couldn't escape it. 

He couldn't escape the weakness. 

Or destroy it. 

His only option was to tuck the wing away and hide it from all other eyes. 

He was trapped. 

The only thing this weakness could do was comfort him into real sleep. Less nightmares, less headaches, less pain when this wing wrapped around him. The only good thing about this symbol of his never ending weakness.

.

.

.

.

Author's Note: This IS in the same universe as A Monster's Threads. Think of it as a breaking point from the main story. You did not need to read AMT for context, but certain lines were taken from @altocat 's piece with permission. I tried to keep her characters in character, but my own headcanons did appear, and I already decided on the plot before writing this, so I did need to hit certain beats. I hope you enjoyed it!

Thanks for reading!

Bonus content

[regular-lord-reckoner]

little update on me, i guess

i'm feeling a little more like myself, i guess. slowly but surely.

i've appreciated being able to just take it slow and steady one day at a time because that's all i can really do right now.

this week was kinda rough, though

for one thing, one of my managers accused me of not doing something i know for a fact i did do and that it's another person who's guilty of what she's talking about but for whatever reason she just...assumed it was me??

i did stand my ground on that one, though, i was like, "can you give me an example of where that's happened because i actually found a bug in the system last week so i want to make sure it's not that again because i'm pretty sure i did what you're saying i didn't" and she was just like, "i don't have it right now, i'll send you some in the future if i come across them!!!" like yeah, okay i'll hold my breath on that one

and listen, i know i've made some mistakes here and there on the charts i've been doing, i'll own that. fair enough. but this other thing she's talking about is separate and i know i go above and beyond sometimes while the other person doing the same thing i am is just flying through the fucking things and it's because as i've noticed myself, she's not doing the thing i got a ~helpful reminder~ email about

in any case, i wasn't wrong in thinking that shit was coming out of left field because on the same day she also spoke so awfully to one of the schedulers that she straight up quit, so!!! there's that.

then on thursday i had my yearly neurology appointment which was fine, he pretty much just asks if my medicine is still working and if we need to adjust the dose, does a quick little check up and then sends me home with my renewed prescription and an appointment for next year.

the problem was it's the first time i've really had to extensively interact with someone who doesn't know what's been going on with me and so i was just sort of in a daze the whole time because part of me was like...should i mention it?? is it relevant to my health??

because i noticed my blood pressure was a little higher than usual which to be fair could be due to multiple things but like...i dunno, maybe also grief and the lack of sleep i've been getting? maybe!

ultimately though i decided not to mention it and when he asked how i was doing i just gave him The Script "i'm good, how about you?" and things just moved on from there

we did talk a little about tears for fears, though since i was wearing a tears for fears shirt. he likes them AND he's seen the cure recently so...very cool neurologist. he also prescribed me to listen to talk talk so i'll get on that at some point

anyway, after the visit i was like, "well, that was a whole ordeal, let me go pick up some lunch at the new chipotle that just opened up closer to my house!"

and i knew that i'd have to pass the funeral home to get to it and was prepared for that although it still kinda stings (even though it's the same damn funeral home we used for ashley so like you'd think i'd be used to it by now but)

what i was not prepared for, though, as i was pulling out of the parking lot was to see the hospice place we used right behind the chipotle so...that's neat!!

also later on that day my mom told me about someone else we know whose father also just passed away and unfortunately he went the same way my sister did, so...thrusday was just trigger after trigger after trigger!!

i'll also just mention this and try not to focus on it too much because i think she might actually be working on it now, but my mom's drinking lately has been...not great

i get that if there's ever a time to do it that it would be now and i've been pretty patient and cool about it up until recently and have started saying something

i actually had a meltdown about it this week because it's just...a lot.

as much as i understand it's just so many things wrapped together

i just lost one parent, i'm not really prepared to watch another one go, even if it's slowly

family of four to three to now two and it's like she's speedrunning to make it one

there's also just the...yay, i never get to stop taking care of someone!!! element of it

it's like i told her, part of why she thinks she can drink so much and that everything is fine, it'll be okay, it's fine is because both dad and i went behind her to make it that way

together we worked as a team to make sure she got to bed safely, that her phone was inside and plugged up, that all the doors were closed and locked for the night, that the dog was inside and put to bed, that all the food was put up, etc., etc.

now it's just me.

and i've been doing it now for a little while. i don't say anything, i don't bring my feelings into it at all. i'll just gently usher her to bed when i feel like she's had enough even though i know she'll still get up and have a couple more when she thinks i've gone to sleep and so i'll go downstairs again a few times just to make sure she's really finally safely asleep

but yeah, that's kinda reached its boiling point so i dunno, we'll see

this is the first weekend i've had where i haven't had to worry and i'm not so naive as to think it'll be like this from now on so i've just been trying to enjoy it while it lasts

i've also been spending as much time as possible in the pool until we close it next weekend

it is........very cold in there but if it gets above 80 degrees i'm getting in there and getting in the last of my pool exercises and then immediately getting back out lol

but yeah, i think that's about it for now

i'm still doing my therapy every other week and am still journaling away.

i've had a couple of dreams where i think my dad has visited me. there's always just a different vibe when it's someone who's passed, it's hard to explain, but my therapist said it's real so we'll go with that

he never really says much, he just smiles and is just there, looking like himself.

that's been comforting.

in any case, i'm hopeful october will be a good month because it's october, duh!!

i've also taken the week of my birthday off as a treat to myself and even if i do nothing but sleep all that week i'll be happy

i'm going to try to enjoy the rest of my weekend and i hope if you're reading this you have a good one as well and may we both have a better week ahead as we move into spoopy season!

[sanguine-salvation]

Shrinking Potion!

[ send a potion and my muse will have to drink it! - ACCEPTING ]

"Hm..." Viktor took the potion, and for a blessed fleeting moment there was maybe a flicker of maybe asking what it was before drinking it. Such things, of course, didn't last too long. Because honestly, why not, it did not immediately smell vile nor did it smell like poison, and dying was the most permanent outcome they could imagine anyway.

They took a breath, shrugged, and knocked the vial back like a shot. It was a rather small dose of whatever it was, and it tasted... tiny? Something fluffy and sweet and airy like a pinch of cotton candy, but without any texture whatsoever.

"Oh, well, that... wasn't so bad... actually... a little obnoxious, tasted like cereal marshmallows, but—"

Oh. The tingle. Oh. Oh no.

There was a tiny flash of realization on their face as the tingle ran all the way up and down their spine like little mouse feet, drawing goosebumps over every inch of them that wasn't scarred and battered. In an instant the world seemed to cave and tower over them, looming in a dizzying spiral before they closed their eyes tight.

Well, if they passed out, no they didn't. They were still upright. It didn't... hurt. They stopped feeling sick after a moment of not looking up at everything. They definitely weren't dead, they knew that much. So after catching their breath and rationalizing that they were indeed still conscious, they opened their eyes again...

Only to find that the once delicately small vial was now enormous next to them. A bristle of alarm shot to their brain as they looked around and took in the very undeniable fact that they were now small. And not like usual, thank you.

"I..." They really should start asking. "What was— What did—" They caught a glimpse of their usual well-worn knife that they had set next to them before taking the potion, and came to the very sobering realization that they were now just about as tall as it was long, the initials they'd carved in the blood-flecked handle bigger than both hands. Oh. Oh.

There was a little sting in their chest over being made so particularly small. And then a bright red flush from ear to ear and the most flustered, frustrated look on their face that near anyone had seen in a long while.

Oh, they felt...

very small and holdable, actually...

[themagicruby]

i'm tripping for the first time in a while on a p low dose of an rc and im like out of the peak where i was just playing dragon age inquisition and i cannot decide if i should smoke marijuana or not like logically i know it is very synergistic and will make me peak again but also..... will it make me more sleepy or not probably not but also maybe it will. i also think that i could probably take half a klonopin to dampen the effects if i needed cause the rc im on is often compared to shrooms in effect and structure (ofc i know it's its own thing) but ppl say that benzos decrease the effects of psilocybin so it might also do that for this but who's to say - not a lot of info and i didn't have the patience to scroll thru this one guys trip report where he took a benzo at one point to see what the effects were. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i mean i took a very low dose of this rc which i've taken multiple times before and it will end so ultimately whatever i do doesn't matter usually when i trip i smoke a lot of weed throughout but that also was when i was smoking a lot of weed in general and now my tolerance is wayyyyy lower. but i did roll a joint with a more cbd heavy strain earlier so it won't b like getting hit by a semi if i smoke it

lmao tumblr mobile formatting is terrible i press enter and this paragraph is down here, maybe ittl look different if i post this which i think i will and probably no one will read which is fine but if you are reading this; Hi!

also i know how very much this reads like someone who is on a psychedelic lol i might delete this in the morning but maybe i'll keep it for posterities sake or whatever, and also if i smoke (which i almost certainly will go do after i post this) i'll probably reblog this with what happened. this is what blogs were made for folks! lol ok bye

while writing the tags i realize i have no idea what the rc community on tumblr is like maybe there are ppl who follow tags idk anyway bye for real until i reblog this

EDIT: uugh ok i can feel myself coming down do i just wait it out or do i smoke i kinda wanna smoke.... i really wanna smoke lol but i also dont wanna b up all night cause my gf's asleep and i can't like watch stuff on my tv and i dont really wanna sit at my computer cause my neck is stiff from playing dragon age lol. i know im probably gonna smoke lol but ok if this ends up fuckinf me over and making me stay up all night at least i'll have this post as reference for next time

[tloaftyob]

5-2-2023

I broke my fucking leg. I happened on April 6th, 2023 while I was on my way to Physics. What a time to do it, weeks before graduation. What a terrible thing to happen. I was boarding, fucked up, and the next think I knew I was on the ground with my right foot flopping around. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would to break a bone, but I guess that’s adrenaline. I was shaking like hell though. Well, it did hurt when I moved it. It hurt like hell, burned. But staying still was alright. I laid there on the grass, calling Ellie, my mom, and Colby. Ellie was over an hour away where she lives, but I just wanted to let her know. I called my mom for the same reason, but Colby was on campus, so I asked him to take me to the ER.

We got to the ER, they took X-rays and told me what I already knew, it was broken. Really bad. As a math major, y=x^3 bad. My ankle bone got jammed up in between my tibia and fibula, and I broke them both. They got me in a bed, and moved me to a room to wait for the doctor to be available. They were going to put me under conscious sedation and move my bones back to where they should be and then splint me up. I laid there for a while waiting. Medical people trickled in, the team. They put some stuff in my IV, my arm went cold, and then I felt tipsy. I was awake but I did not care about what was going on. I don’t even remember them touching my leg, certainly no pain. By the time I was coming down I was all splinted and alone. A few tears ran down my cheeks. I was relieved, sad, frustrated this was happening, thankful that the worst of it was over now that my leg was stable. I stayed there for a bit longer, peed in a jug. Colby was eventually allowed to come in and keep me company, so that’s nice. He got some good pictures of me hooked up to the machines. My parents arrived around the time I was allowed to leave. Although my leg was good and splinted, I could still feel the bones shift when changing its orientation. Terrible clicks and grinding.

I was wheeled to the entrance, and got into the back of my dad’s truck. I sat sideways, with my leg on pillows. We went to my dorm to get my essentials, then to my car. My mom was going to drive me to Ellie’s and stay there for the weekend to help. I cried more on the way to her, this time because of how stressful this all was, how inconvenient it would be, how uncertain the future was. I was hopeful to return to classes after a week.

That wouldn’t happen.

I had appointments, the doctor talked to me, we would meet again Monday to check my swelling, and if it was good we would do surgery the next day. That’s what I wanted. I wanted to be back to normal, bones not moving. Easter was that weekend, so we went home for that. We came back up, I had my Monday appointment and was cleared for surgery Tuesday.

I got there early in the morning, like 6:30AM or something. We got me all ready, hospital gown, IV, hairnet, all of it. My blood pressure was through the roof though. I was so nervous, so dehydrated, so hypertensive that my systolic was over 200 in a few readings. They had me in holding, I was about to get my nerve block, and then they said “No, too dangerous. Go home and get that fixed, come back later.“ so I did. My mom scheduled an appointment with my primary doctor all the way at home, and we went to it later that day. 2 hours away. Damn car ride.

She prescribed me medicine. Then it didn’t work as fast as we wanted, so she doubled the dose and prescribed another. That didn’t work either, so she prescribed me a third. Just barely, I was cleared for surgery a week after my surgery was supposed to be.

All this time, I am just waiting around at home. At this point I learned that my independence was gone. I had to crutch everywhere, I couldn’t live alone. No classes for me. In hindsight maybe I could have asked the professors to set up a zoom meeting and set up a laptop on a desk so I could join virtually or whatever, but it is too late.

Anyways, it is the day of my surgery, second try. I have to be at the hospital at 5:30AM, so we wake up at 4:30AM I think. We get there, do everything, blah. The lady putting my IV in gets a valve, it hurts like hell. She tries again, it works. My hand is still bruised 2 weeks later. I get back to holding, I wait a bit, blood pressure is a lot better. Still stage 2 hypertension, but not too bad compared to last time. They give me some good stuff in my IV, I feel tipsy, they numb my leg with novacane and then block my nerve. They have to it in 2 places. It hurts like hell but the feel good stuff they put in my IV makes me not care, it was really nice.

I can no longer move my leg.

They take me to the operating room. It is cold. There are like 8 doctors there. They put a warm blanket on me, tell me to breathe deep breaths in and out of this mask, and then I forget. Fuck, I wanted to tell them to take pictures! I wake up back in holding. I can neither feel nor move my leg. That’s weird, but expected of course. They bring me back to the room I was first in, Ellie is there. I am so happy to see her and to be done with the surgery. I think I might have cried a bit.

We head home after a bit, I crutch in to the apartment with my leg swinging under me. I have literally no control over it, it’s really odd. I could try to move it, try to send the signals to the muscles, but nothing happens. I have my dad help me move it onto the pillows and blankets we have stacked up on the bed for elevation and comfort. My post-op is in 2 weeks and a day. For present me, that’s tomorrow.

The time between now and then has been spent doing homework, sleeping, watching YouTube, and showering with Ellie’s help. I hadn’t left the apartment in 10 days. Then her grandpa died. He was doing really poorly, and we were going to go home to see him that weekend, but on Thursday night she got a call. We went home the next morning. There was a small family-only gathering at the funeral home on Sunday. We went back up Sunday evening.

Colby broke up with Sarah completely, I don’t know if I mentioned that on here yet. She is not taking it well. She goes from sad to furious right back to sad in days. It’s good for Colby to see that so he can see what he dodged. They still have to live together for the rest of the semester because of complications, but there isn’t much time left in the semester. He came over last last weekend to get out of his apartment and it was fun. Ellie and him got drunk, we all played Mario Kart and BotW. I couldn’t drink because of my percs. They definitely helped with the pain. Especially when I double dosed on the day after my surgery. I just ran out last night. For the past week I have just been taking them at night to help me stay comfy while sleeping. I am celebrating tonight by having a peach schnapps drink. One of my favorites.

I can’t wait for TotK to come out. It comes out the same day as I graduate, but I am not even sure I want to walk across the stage, seeing as I would have to crutch. And sit there in the crowd with my leg and all that. I have to go to campus May 10th to take some finals and do some labs, and I am not really looking forward to that but they won’t let me do them virtually. Meh shmeh.

Yeah that’s about it, I have just been sitting around, watching my blood pressure, lowering my sodium, doing homework, watching YouTube, missing Ellie when she is at work or class, feeling pain in my leg (which now has metal in it, so I am now a cyborg).

Time to get back to some homework.

GOOD AFTERNOON TUMBLR!