#And then? Then you grow around that pain and keep on going. If you feel like you can't - remember you don't have to do it alone.

[ohtobeleah]

I can just picture how much it would mean to just hold hands with Logan.

I'd assume that where his claws grow, would typically be rather sensitive to the touch. But its where someone else fingers would usually lay when digits are intertwined.

“Has anyone ever just…….held your hand before?” You ask with a curious expression smeared across your face. Logan can't see it, but you've been staring at the spots between his knuckles. The spaces that are angry, irritated and raw.

“Not if they were particularly invested in keeping their hand,” Logan protects himself from the reality and depth of your question. But he answers truthfully. “No, no hon—noones held my hand before.”

So, ever so slowly, but surely, you tiptoe your fingers down his forearm. Never once picking your head up from where you're resting on Logand chest. Listening to his heartbeat race as you get closer and closer to the knuckles that have caused so much pain.

“Are you sure?” He nearly whimpers as your dance your fingertips across his bruised knuckles. “What if I hurt you?” its a valid question, but not particularly a question you cared for.

“I'm sure we have a few bandaids lying around—” You smile, completely sure as you intertwine your fingers with Logans. “Just hold my hand.”

“Ill never wanna let go.” Logan sighs at the feeling, the love he harbours for you radiates throughout his entire body.

“You big softy,” You tease—its only met with a kiss to the top of the head.

Ilya

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, afab!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter two of four!

wc. 6.1K

↳ part 1 | part 3 [soon!]

Gojo’s newfound resolve was suffocating. The moment he realized the truth—that you were suffering, that you had been wilting away in silence—something inside him had shifted. He couldn’t let it go. His usual carefree attitude was gone, replaced with an intensity that left you exhausted beyond words. Every time he saw you now, he was right there—checking on you, offering his help, making sure you weren’t fading into the background anymore.

But you were tired. So tired.

You had spent so long trying to keep your head down, to hide the growing petals and the blood that came with every cough, that his sudden attention felt like too much. It was overwhelming. His presence, once something you had longed for in silence, now felt heavy, a constant reminder of how far gone you were.

After your confession, Gojo had made it clear that he wasn’t going to stand by and let you wither away. He was determined to help, to fix things, even though he didn’t know how. But that resolve, that fierce energy that he always carried, only served to remind you of how out of place you felt in his world.

Gojo was a powerhouse, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could bend the very fabric of the world to his will. He was confident, capable, and surrounded by students with talents that could rival his own in time. Yuji, Megumi, Nobara—they all had bright futures, their potential limitless. And then there was you: lungs full of blood and flowers, a cursed technique that barely registered on anyone’s radar. You had never stood a chance of catching his attention before, and now that you had, it was because you were slowly dying.

You made your way back to your room, each step heavier than the last. Your body ached with fatigue, the constant strain of the hanahaki weighing you down. The tissue box was empty, and you knew you would have to ask Shoko for more supplies soon, but even that felt like too much effort.

All you wanted to do was lie down in the dark and disappear for a while.

When you finally reached your room, you shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you let out a shaky breath. The air felt thick, your chest constricting with the familiar tightness that signaled another coughing fit. You swallowed hard, willing the flowers to stay buried for now. You couldn’t deal with another fit, not right now.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh light of the afternoon sun. It was a small comfort, the darkness wrapping around you like a blanket as you made your way to the bed. You didn’t bother turning on the lights. You didn’t need them. All you wanted was to rest, to escape the relentless exhaustion that had become your constant companion.

As you lay down, sinking into the worn-out mattress, the silence of the room pressed in on you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to breathe, to close your eyes and pretend that everything wasn’t falling apart. But the pain in your chest wouldn’t let you forget. The flowers were still there, growing larger with each passing day, their roots winding through your lungs, cracking your bones and choking the life out of you bit by bit.

Gojo’s attention, his concern—it was supposed to help. He had hoped it would help. Maybe he thought that by staying close, by showing you that you weren’t alone, he could somehow stop the disease from progressing. But no amount of resolve could stop the petals from blooming. No amount of determination could fix what was happening inside of you.

And deep down, you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t belong in his world. Gojo was larger than life, a figure of strength and power, while you were fading away. Even now, with his attention fully on you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were out of place. That no matter how hard he tried, nothing could change the fact that you were weak.

The tears came unbidden, slipping down your cheeks as you lay there, curled up in the darkness. You pressed a hand to your chest, feeling the familiar tightness as the flowers bloomed again, but this time, you didn’t fight it. You let the petals come, the blood staining your lips as they fluttered out, beautiful and deadly.

You had wanted Gojo’s attention for so long. You had dreamt of him noticing you, of him seeing you the way he saw the others. But now that he had, it only served to highlight the gap between you—the gulf that separated your fragile existence from his unstoppable strength.

As another coughing fit wracked your body, you buried your face in the pillow, the sound muffled but still too loud in the quiet of the room. The petals, soft and cerulean, fell onto the bedspread, a cruel reminder of the love you could never express. You wiped at your mouth, the blood mixing with the tears as you struggled to catch your breath.

Gojo was trying to help, but you were too far gone.

You curled tighter into yourself, your breath shallow as you closed your eyes and let the darkness take you. All you could do was hope that, for a little while, the world would leave you alone.

The past few days had been especially brutal—nosebleeds every time you so much as raised your head, petals blooming with every shallow breath. Your body had begun to reject even the most basic movements, leaving you bedridden, trapped in the darkness of your tiny dorm room.

You hadn’t gone to class in two days. The mere thought of leaving your bed felt impossible, the effort it took to even sit up leaving you dizzy and coughing up more blood than ever before. Your assignments, your studies—all of it had slipped away, fading into the background as you struggled just to survive the onslaught of pain and exhaustion.

The worst part wasn’t even the physical toll. It was the isolation.

You had cut yourself off completely, hiding away from the world and everyone in it, hoping that if you stayed quiet enough, no one would notice. But deep down, you knew that Gojo had been watching, keeping an eye on you even as you disappeared from his class. It was only a matter of time before he came looking for you.

It happened on the third day.

You were lying in bed, the covers pulled up around you despite the suffocating heat of the room. The curtains were drawn tightly shut, plunging the space into a dim, shadowy haze. The air was thick with the scent of blood and petals, a sickly sweetness that clung to everything. The tissue box beside your bed was nearly empty again, tissues scattered across the floor, stained with red and blue – turning almost a slickly hollow purple.

You hadn’t bothered getting up that day. Every time you tried, your head spun, and your vision blurred with the strain of another coughing fit. It was easier to stay still, to let the darkness wrap around you and pretend, for just a moment, that the world outside didn’t exist.

But then, you heard it—a knock at the door. It was soft at first, hesitant, but unmistakable.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat was too raw, your chest too tight with the ever-present flowers, their roots winding deeper into your lungs with every passing minute.

The knock came again, louder this time, followed by the unmistakable sound of Gojo’s voice. “Hey… you in there?”

Your heart sank. Of course, it was him. Of course, he had tracked your dorm room down.

When you didn’t respond, the door creaked open, and Gojo stepped inside. The sight of him, standing in the doorway of your tiny, dark dorm room, was almost surreal. He looked completely out of place, his tall frame too large for the cramped, messy space. His usual bright, confident energy seemed dulled by the atmosphere of the room, as if the darkness had reached out and swallowed him whole.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the scene before him—your rumpled bed, the scattered tissues, the bloodstained pillows. His blindfold-covered eyes scanned the room, his expression unreadable, but there was a heaviness in his posture that you hadn’t seen before.

You tried to sit up, but the effort sent a wave of dizziness crashing over you, and you collapsed back onto the mattress, your chest tightening painfully. Another petal slipped from your lips, landing softly on the sheets.

Gojo’s expression shifted, and in an instant, he was beside you, his presence filling the space around your bed. “You weren’t in class,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “Two days.”

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Your throat burned, and all you could manage was a weak cough, more petals spilling from your mouth as you pressed a tissue to your lips.

Gojo’s hand hovered near your shoulder, hesitating before he placed it gently on the edge of your bed. “You should’ve told me,” he said, his voice strained. “I would’ve—” He stopped, his sentence hanging in the air, unfinished.

It was almost funny, how out of place he looked in your dorm. Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could command any room, now standing awkwardly in your dark, messy space, his usual confidence dimmed by the sheer weight of the situation.

“You’re really out of your element here, Gojo-sensei,�� you rasped, the words barely audible as you tried to laugh, but the sound came out more like a wheeze.

Gojo’s lips quirked up into a faint, sad smile, but you knew his eyes—hidden behind his blindfold—didn’t reflect the usual lightness they held. “Yeah, well,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed, “you’re not making this easy.”

You let out a small, bitter chuckle, though it quickly turned into another cough, your hand trembling as you held the tissue to your mouth. “Nothing about this is easy,” you muttered.

Gojo’s hand shifted, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out to help, but he didn’t. Instead, he just sat there, his presence oddly quiet, his usual bravado tempered by the reality of what he was seeing.

“You didn’t have to come,” you said after a moment, your voice soft, barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Gojo’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head slightly. “Too bad,” he replied, his voice firm but gentle. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

You swallowed hard, feeling another wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Why?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Why do you care so much now?”

Gojo was silent for a moment, as if considering his answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “Because I should’ve been paying attention a long time ago,” he admitted. “I should’ve noticed you sooner.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his words. For so long, you had convinced yourself that you were invisible to him, that your presence in his class didn’t matter. But now, sitting here in your dark, messy room, it was clear that Gojo had noticed more than you realized.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “You have so much on your plate already.”

Gojo’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he leaned forward slightly, his hand finally reaching out to gently touch your arm. “You’re not a burden,” he said, his voice steady, but the emotion behind his words was undeniable. “You’re one of my students. I’m supposed to look out for you.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a heavy blanket. For so long, you had felt like an outsider, like your existence didn’t matter. But in this moment, with Gojo sitting beside you, his presence quiet and unwavering, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as invisible as you thought.

But even so, the flowers continued to bloom, their roots winding deeper into your lungs, and you knew that Gojo’s attention, his resolve, wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Gojo’s presence in the room felt like an anchor, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. But even as his hand rested gently on your arm, his words filled with a kind of determination you hadn’t heard before, a harsh truth settled deep in your bones: no matter what he said, no matter how fiercely he tried to look after you now, it wouldn’t change the course of your imminent death.

You opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling, the familiar ache in your chest pulsing with every shallow breath. The petals inside you weren’t just blooming—they were taking over, suffocating you from the inside out. Gojo’s concern, his guilt, his newfound attention—it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t stop the inevitable.

“It’s too bad,” you muttered, your voice raw, barely more than a breath. “Looking out for me now isn’t going to change anything.”

Gojo froze beside you, his hand still resting on your arm, though the warmth of his touch felt distant. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you could feel the weight of his silence, the way his usually unshakable confidence faltered in the face of something he couldn’t fight, couldn’t fix.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost pleading. “I’m not giving up on you.”

You let out a soft, bitter laugh, the sound catching in your throat as another petal forced its way up, followed by a trickle of blood that stained your lips. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t give up,” you rasped, your breath uneven as you wiped the blood away with the back of your hand. “It’s too late, Gojo.”

He was quiet again, the tension in the room thickening as you both sat in the suffocating darkness. You could feel the weight of his frustration, the way his fingers tightened slightly against your arm, as if holding onto you harder could somehow stop what was happening. But nothing could stop the flowers now. Nothing could stop the hanahaki from claiming you, piece by piece.

Gojo finally spoke, his voice strained, like he was fighting to keep his usual bravado from slipping completely. “It’s not too late,” he said, but there was something hollow in the way he said it, like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you. “There has to be something we can do.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, the exhaustion heavy in your limbs. The sight of Gojo—normally so composed, so sure of himself—looking utterly lost in your tiny, dimly lit room, was almost tragic. His blindfold hid his eyes, but you could see the tension in his face, the way his jaw clenched, his lips pressed tightly together. This was the strongest sorcerer in the world, and yet here, in this moment, even he couldn’t stop the inevitable.

“I appreciate it,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “but you can’t fix this.”

His fingers twitched against your arm, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But instead, he let out a slow, controlled breath, his hand slipping from your arm to his lap as he leaned back slightly, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost broken.

You shook your head weakly, the effort taking more out of you than it should have. “Because what would it change?” you replied, your tone resigned. “I’m just another student, Gojo. Telling you wouldn’t have stopped this.”

Gojo’s head snapped toward you, his expression hardening at your words. “You’re not just another student,” he said sharply, his voice thick with frustration. “You never were.”

You closed your eyes again, the heaviness in your chest making it difficult to speak, let alone process his words. “Maybe not to you now,” you muttered, “but you didn’t notice me before. And now that you do… it’s too late.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Gojo didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you thought he might leave, might give up on this impossible situation. But then, his voice broke through the darkness, softer this time, almost fragile.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes, surprised at the rawness in his tone. It was rare to hear Gojo like this—stripped of his usual confidence, his playful charm, and his endless bravado. He sounded… human. Vulnerable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner,” he continued, his voice low, barely audible over the sound of your labored breathing. “I should’ve been paying attention. I should’ve—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, shaking your head as much as your weak body would allow. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.”

Gojo’s hand tightened into a fist, his knuckles white against the fabric of his pants. “How can I not?” he asked, his voice thick with guilt. “You’re my student. I’m supposed to protect you. And I didn’t.”

The air in the room felt heavy, oppressive, as you lay there in the silence that followed. You understood where his guilt came from, but it didn’t change the reality of the situation. Gojo couldn’t fix this. No one could.

“Maybe… maybe I don’t want to be saved,” you whispered, the truth of your words sinking in even as you said them. “I’ve lived with this for so long, and now… I’m just tired.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away, but the tension in his body told you how much your words affected him. He wasn’t used to losing, especially not like this—helpless, unable to fight back.

“I’m not giving up on you,” he said again, but this time, the desperation in his voice was clear. He wasn’t just saying it for you—he was saying it for himself. Trying to hold on to something, anything, that would make this feel less final.

You closed your eyes again, the exhaustion weighing down on you like a blanket. “You don’t have to give up,” you murmured. “But it doesn’t change the fact that… I’m already slipping away.”

In the darkness of your room, with the scent of blood and petals filling the air, the truth became impossible to ignore. Even Gojo, with all his power and resolve, couldn’t save you from this.

And somehow, in that moment, you were okay with that.

The silence between you and Gojo hung heavy in the room. You could feel the weight of his presence beside you, but it offered no comfort, only a reminder of the widening gap between what could be and what was. You knew he was desperate to help, but even he, the strongest sorcerer, couldn't stop what was happening inside you.

The thought stirred something inside you—curiosity, maybe desperation of your own. You turned your head slowly to look at him, eyes half-lidded, your voice hoarse and broken as you spoke.

"Can you see it?" you asked, your words barely more than a breath, your throat raw from the constant coughing. "With your Six Eyes?"

Gojo's posture stiffened slightly, but you could feel the shift in his energy. The question hung in the air, thick with meaning. You knew that his Six Eyes gave him extraordinary perception, allowed him to see cursed energy and details others couldn't possibly comprehend. But you wondered—could he see the flowers inside of you? Could he see the petals twisting around your lungs, choking the life out of you, piece by piece - if he tried?

For a moment, he didn’t answer. The silence stretched on, and you could feel the weight of his hesitation. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet, almost fragile. “Yes.”

The word lingered in the air, a confirmation that sent a chill through you.

Gojo didn’t elaborate, but you didn’t need him to. You could picture it now—his Six Eyes, usually so sharp and all-seeing, watching the cursed energy inside of you twist and knot around the blooming flowers. You wondered if it looked as beautiful as it felt tragic. Did he see the delicate petals weaving through your body, tainted with blood and despair? Did the flowers glow in his vision, vibrant but deadly, a curse of unrequited love made visible through the lens of his extraordinary power?

“Tell me what you see,” you whispered, unsure why you even wanted to know. Maybe because it felt like the only way to truly confront the reality of your condition, to hear from him just how deep the curse ran.

Gojo was silent for a long moment, his hand resting loosely on his knee, fingers twitching slightly as though he were struggling with how to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it, almost reverent.

“I see… cursed energy wrapped around you, tightening,” he said slowly, as if each word was pulled from him against his will. “It’s like… roots, tangled and twisting, wrapped around your lungs. They’re… beautiful, but they’re suffocating you.”

Your breath hitched in your chest at his words. Beautiful but suffocating. That was exactly how it felt—both physically and emotionally. This disease, born of your unspoken feelings for him, was devastatingly beautiful in its way. The petals were lovely, but their bloom came at the cost of your life.

Gojo leaned forward, his voice more strained now. “The flowers… they’re cursed energy, too, aren’t they? Your emotions, your love… they’ve turned into something I can see. Something I can’t stop.”

You blinked back tears, the weight of his words pressing down on you. You didn’t need to look at him to know the helplessness that now filled his expression. Gojo was someone who was never helpless, someone who could bend the world to his will, yet here he was, unable to stop the flowers from blooming, unable to stop your slow descent.

“They’re… suffocating me,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Even you… can’t stop them.”

Gojo was silent, his hand gripping the edge of your bed as if that could steady him. For the first time since you had known him, he seemed lost. There was no easy solution, no power he could wield to fix this. All he could do was watch—watch as the flowers continued to bloom, watch as your life slipped away before his very eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Again.

You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creep up on you again. “Don’t be,” you muttered, your voice fading as sleep pulled you under. “Just… stay.”

For once, Gojo didn’t argue. He stayed. And for a moment, in the suffocating darkness of your dorm room, with the flowers blooming inside you, it was enough.

You lay there, exhausted, your body worn from the endless cycle of coughing and pain. Gojo sat beside you, quieter than you had ever seen him. His usual boundless energy was gone, replaced by something darker, more solemn. He had seen the flowers—seen them with his Six Eyes—and now, for the first time, he truly understood the depth of what you were facing.

But even his understanding didn’t change the reality. You were dying. Slowly, but surely.

The soft sound of footsteps broke through the silence, and you turned your head slightly as Shoko stepped into the room. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of exhaustion and something else you couldn’t quite place. She carried the air of someone who had been wrestling with a difficult decision, and the moment she walked in, you knew she had something important to say.

Gojo straightened slightly as she entered, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched her, his blindfold still in place, though you could feel the weight of his focus shifting between you and Shoko.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, glancing between the two of you. She moved to the foot of your bed, crossing her arms over her chest as she took in the state of the room—of you.

You tried to sit up, but your body betrayed you, weak and uncooperative. Shoko’s gaze softened as she saw you struggle, and she moved closer, her eyes serious but compassionate.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, her voice calm and measured. “About your condition. About the hanahaki.”

You felt a tightness in your chest at her words. You knew what she was about to say. You had been avoiding this conversation for as long as you could, but it was inevitable.

“There’s a surgery,” she continued, her voice steady. “We can remove the flowers, the roots, everything. It’s the only way to stop the disease from progressing.”

You glanced at Gojo, but he remained silent, his expression tense. Shoko’s words hung in the air like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that had consumed you. But you knew the cost of that surgery.

Shoko’s eyes flickered to Gojo for a moment before settling back on you. She hesitated, then spoke quietly. “But… the surgery will take away your feelings. Your love for him.”

The room felt impossibly still, the weight of her words crashing down around you. You had known this was coming, but hearing it out loud made it real in a way you weren’t prepared for. The flowers would be gone—the pain, the coughing, the blood—but so would your love for Gojo. That deep, unspoken feeling that had been a part of you for so long, the very thing that had caused this disease, would be erased.

You looked up at Shoko, your throat tight, your voice barely a whisper. “So… I’d stop loving him?”

Shoko nodded, her gaze softening with understanding. “Yes,” she said gently. “The feelings that caused the hanahaki would be removed. It’s the only way to save you.”

Gojo shifted beside you, and you could feel the tension radiating from him, though he still didn’t say anything. His silence was deafening, and it made the decision feel even more impossible.

You turned your head to look at him, searching his face for some kind of answer, some kind of guidance. But all you saw was the same confusion and helplessness that you felt. This wasn’t something his power could fix. This wasn’t something that could be fought or defeated.

The choice was yours.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, your mind reeling. Could you really give it up? Could you let go of the love you had held onto for so long, even though it had been one-sided? The thought of not loving Gojo anymore, of not feeling the warmth and the ache that came with caring for him, left a hollow ache in your chest. But the alternative—letting the flowers bloom until they consumed you completely—was a death sentence.

“I don’t want to stop loving him,” you whispered, the words trembling as they left your lips.

Gojo’s head snapped toward you, his expression tightening. You couldn’t see his eyes behind the blindfold, but you could feel his shock, his hesitation. He hadn’t known, not fully, just how much you had held inside. But now, with Shoko standing here offering you a chance to live—a chance to erase the very thing that had been killing you—he knew.

“Don’t…” Gojo’s voice was low, strained, as if he was grappling with what to say. “Don’t do this for me.”

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, though the blindfold hid his eyes. “It’s not about you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s about… me. It’s about what I’m willing to lose to keep going.”

Gojo flinched, and you saw the way his fingers tightened into fists, his jaw clenched. He wanted to say something, to stop you, but he knew he couldn’t. This was a decision only you could make.

Shoko stepped closer, her expression compassionate but firm. “It’s your choice,” she said quietly. “But if you don’t do the surgery soon, there won’t be another option.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of the decision pressing down on you like a heavy fog. If you chose the surgery, you could live—but you would lose the most important part of yourself. If you refused, the flowers would take you, slowly but surely, until there was nothing left.

“I don’t want to lose this,” you said again, your voice trembling. “Even if it hurts. Even if it’s killing me.”

Gojo’s hand finally reached for yours, his fingers brushing against your cold skin. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet, almost pleading. “I don’t want you to die.”

You closed your eyes, the tears falling freely now. The choice was in front of you, clear and unforgiving.

Save yourself, but lose him.

Or love him, and let the flowers take you.

You had never felt so lost.

Shoko had been quiet after your initial resistance, but her eyes were filled with a kind of quiet understanding that unnerved you. She had known all along that this decision would tear you apart. Even now, with Gojo sitting silently at your bedside, his hand gently wrapped around yours, you could feel the weight of the decision looming over all of you.

But in the days that followed, as Gojo was called away on a mission—one he couldn’t refuse—the decision became clearer. The pain was getting worse. You could hardly get out of bed without collapsing into a fit of coughing, petals spilling from your lips more violently than ever before. Every breath felt like a battle, and every time you blinked, the world around you seemed to fade just a little more.

Shoko visited frequently. Each time she came, she brought more supplies, more medications to dull the pain, but her eyes always carried the same question: When will you decide?

And finally, after a particularly brutal day when you could hardly move from bed, your body weak and ravaged by the flowers, Shoko had sat down beside you, her voice firm yet compassionate.

“You’re dying,” she said plainly. “And I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s the truth. If you keep waiting, if you don’t do something… it’s going to be too late.”

You had closed your eyes, her words echoing in your mind. You didn’t want to stop loving Gojo. You didn’t want to lose that part of yourself, even if it was killing you. But the reality was becoming impossible to ignore.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to forget him.”

Shoko placed a hand on your arm, her touch gentle but steady. “I know. But Gojo doesn’t want you to die. You don’t deserve to die for this.”

Her words hit you like a wave, crashing against the walls you had built around yourself. You were so tired—tired of the pain, the suffocation, the slow withering away of your body. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to survive this. Maybe it was time to let go.

Shoko leaned in closer, her voice soft but insistent. “You deserve to live, even if it means you have to forget.”

The decision, when you finally made it, felt like it wasn’t entirely yours. It felt like giving up. But you agreed. You agreed to the surgery while Gojo was away, telling yourself that it was for the best. He wouldn’t be there to see you go through with it, to watch you lose the love that had been driving you toward death. He would never have to know how hard it had been for you to let go of him.

The surgery came faster than you expected. Shoko was efficient, as always, and her team worked in the clinical, detached way that was necessary for something like this. You felt numb, even before the anesthesia kicked in. The thought of losing the flowers—the flowers that represented your love for Gojo—was a strange, hollow feeling. You had grown accustomed to the weight of them inside you, even as they destroyed you.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the absence of pain. No more tightness in your chest, no more blood, no more petals. Just… silence.

But along with that silence came something else. The overwhelming emptiness where your feelings for Gojo had been. The love you had carried for him, the very thing that had once consumed you, was gone. Erased. You knew it intellectually, but you couldn’t feel it anymore. It was like staring at a memory that had faded beyond recognition. The edges were still there, but the warmth was gone, and the ache that once defined your every waking moment had vanished.

You were free—but at what cost?

It was a few days later when Gojo returned from his mission. You had been resting, trying to adjust to the strange new quietness inside your heart, when the door to your room swung open. Gojo stepped in, his usual lightness dimmed by the weight of the situation.

He had rushed back, that much was clear. His blindfold was slightly askew, his hair disheveled, and there was an urgency in the way he moved as he approached your bed.

“Hey, kid,” he said softly, sitting on the edge of your bed, his voice more tentative than you’d ever heard it. “I came as soon as I could.”

You looked up at him, feeling… disconnected. He was still Gojo. Still the same person who had sat by your side, trying to comfort you, trying to save you. But something was different now. He seemed so far away, like a figure from a dream you couldn’t quite grasp.

“I had the surgery,” you said quietly, your voice steady. You were surprised by how calm you felt.

Gojo blinked, his expression shifting, though it was hard to read behind his blindfold. “I know,” he said softly, his voice laced with something that sounded almost like regret. “Shoko told me.”

There was a pause, a long, uncomfortable silence as the two of you sat there. You knew what he was going to ask. He had to ask, even though you knew the answer.

“Do you… still feel the same?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “About me?”

You looked away, your heart heavy, though not in the way it had been before. There was no pain, no aching love suffocating you. Just the quiet, empty truth.

“No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I don’t. I don’t feel anything for you anymore.”

Gojo didn’t move for a moment. The weight of your words seemed to hang between you, thick and final. He sat there, staring at you, though you couldn’t see his eyes. You could feel the tension in his body, the realization that something irrevocable had changed.

“I see,” he murmured, his voice tight, though he tried to hide it behind his usual facade. But the cracks were there, small and painful.

You felt like you should have said something more, but there was nothing left to say. You had made your choice, and now you had to live with it. Gojo, too, would have to live with the knowledge that you had loved him once, deeply, but now, it was gone.

He stood slowly, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach his usual brightness. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice light but strained. “That’s what matters.”

You nodded, watching as he turned to leave. But before he walked out the door, he paused, his hand resting on the frame.

“I’ll still be around,” he said, quieter now, almost to himself. “If you need anything.”

And then he was gone.

The room felt emptier than before, and though the flowers were gone from your lungs, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious had been lost in their place.

notes: I tried to keep your cursed technique vague so y'all can pick whatever it is - If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know <3

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[acciosallow]

I’ll Fuck the Depression Out of You

Professor!Sebastian Sallow x FemaleStudent!Reader

Minors do not interact.

Professor Sallow knows exactly how to cheer up his perfect little student; the two indulging in their usual sexual acts. It was the only way she knew how to counter the depression. Getting fucked by her favorite professor. The only man to make her feel anything else and he certainly didn’t mind. As she was the only woman to make him feel alive again.

Warnings: Age gap, size difference, unprotected sex. Just jumping straight into the smut. PWP ish?

There is fluff too.

Disclaimer: University AU; characters are adults but there is an age gap with Sebastian being older. This is just a work of fiction.

Divider Credit: @/thecutestgrotto

Sliding in and out of her slick and warm tight heat had him a groaning mess. One strong hand of his, firmly pinning her delicate wrists above her head as he pounded into her with enough force to make the bed creak and almost shift.

“Bloody hell… you’re so fucking tight, love.” He rasped out, thrusting with reckless abandon at this point. Making sure that she felt every inch of his cock in that tiny cunt of hers. The other hand gripping her hip strongly, enough to leave a mark.

To go along with the other various marks he left on her earlier; love bites, little bruises. A little pain mixed with the pleasure, just as his petite beauty wanted.

She loved it when he called her ‘love’… or any pet-name that felt as a sign of affection. That made her feel utterly wanted by this man, in more ways than one.

“Ngh… mnn… a-ah…”

Incoherent moans and whines escaped her pretty, swollen red lips. Swollen from all the kissing and biting he did previously. Her pleasure reaching a new height and he could feel it in the way her pussy wrapped so tightly around his cock, wanting to milk everything out of him.

As his hips kept rocking back and forth, making sure to hit every delicious spot inside of her— he would grind his cock wherever she felt most sensitive. Knowing every part of those warm walls that engulfed him, what made her writhe. To feel destroyed in orgasmic bliss.

A face so innocent; so fine like a porcelain doll yet underneath that mask of flowery visuals was filth. A corruption that she only shared with him, her favorite person in general, not just professor anymore. Granted, he was the reason she got so corrupted in this world of sexual satisfaction.

“Hngh! S-sir…—“ she started whimpering out but he stopped her, giving her a forceful deep thrust that hit her womb; which made her cry out.

“Sebastian… sweetheart. You don’t call me that when we’re doing this,” he hissed out, not stopping as she shuddered under him. There were no formalities in this yet she still accidentally would let it out.

“You call me by my name… haa, only my name because right now, we’re two humans, sweetie. Not a professor and student— fuck,” he asserted a bit breathlessly, jaw almost wanting to clench. He couldn’t halt pumping into her; she just took him so well as if he was made to connect with her. He never experienced such a fantastic gratification before; never. Only with her.

“After hours… you’re mine,” a low growl escaped and she shivered now. Goosebumps of delight all over her arms; her pussy almost vibrated around his large shaft for a moment.

“That’s right… you felt the truth…” he continued as he rolled his hips more; his hand squeezing the wrists above her head.

“Mine and I’m yours,” another groan left his mouth. Every urgent movement of his causes a groan out of him and a wanton whine from her.

The tightness of her walls squeezing his cock even more than before; his eyes almost rolled back, “fuck… keep, ah…” he panted, “keep squeezing, such a good girl.”

At the praise, she cried out. He knew she loved it… loved hearing it from his low toned voice when he was just as wrecked as she was. Her praise kink only made an ego grow; the fact that his words meant so much to her.

“That’s right… my good girl.” He pulled all the way out for a moment; making her hips buck up a little, seeking him out. He smirked then plunged his cock right back in, to the hilt.

“Ohh, gods… S-Sebastian,” she choked up, eyes rolling back in ecstasy and he almost let out a needy whine at the way she sputtered out his name. His name sounded so beautiful coming from her lips; as if it was a prayer made just for him.

This had become a new recent routine; fucking like frantic lovers who couldn’t get enough. Fucking her until her cruel depression numbed out, making her incapable of feeling anything but him and these moments.

She was his best student, a model example of intelligence and hard-work. With that deep set of knowledge came a depression though. The other students envying her for constantly surpassing them in grades. Then it was the way she looked… a haunting beauty, only planting more seeds of jealousy to grow.

Which had caused her to be quite isolated from the rest of her peers plus she did not think like the rest of her generation did. Loneliness would accompany her, reminding her that she was a misfit. She was somewhat of an old soul as well and Sebastian noticed immediately, slowly getting close to her without meaning to until one day, their desires spilled out in his empty classroom. He would never forget the first time he fucked her… the first time he made her cum and not even once but multiple times. The way her virginity got stretched out by him although he was hesitant that first time. Not wanting to cross that forbidden line despite being adults. Not wanting to hurt her either but he did enjoy being her first. A primal urge had escaped though; unable to resist her. It was those damn stunning eyes… those big orbs making him feel like all she saw was him. The disappointment on her face when he resisted a bit at first, trying to hold onto morals. The way she began to accept it and walk away. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel that way.

Not when he needed her too. So he showed his desire again, coaxing hers back out. It was a first time she’d never forget either. A memorable one.

Never did he think… this would happen. A reoccurring routine of ruining her, helping her get out every wild fantasy she ever had but never acted upon. That he’d be fucking this perfect, doll-like young woman frequently. This woman that would go far with all the wit she carried. But he should have expected it, he thought to himself.

That he’d get to have her in his bed often once the classroom or his private office weren’t enough. That he would feel the way his cock just perfectly molded into the tightness of her— it almost felt like a crime for the sex to be this amazing.

The way her tight heat would just swallow his cock up, every single inch until the lewd noises of flesh slapping against her ass would fill the room too.

She was everything, brains and etherealness. Almost a Goddess that he felt lucky to know. Sebastian wanted to worship her, praise her… remind her that she was perfect. Even that raw, dirty side of her was magic. Every part of her soul collided with his, igniting a flame that never burnt out but only grew stronger.

He couldn’t believe that this small Goddess wanted him. He was about twelve years older than her; freckled faced with tired eyes from countless tasks with his job and diving into books and research of his own. He felt his age very slowly catching up to him though he was not old at all. She was twenty years old but still; he thought she should meet a man her age. Someone that would age the same with her, alongside her.

He was devastatingly handsome; everyone knew; the other professors, the other students. Despite the slight cloud of darkness around him, he had the charm and looks. A brain that attracted his perfect doll to him first over anything. The way he’d teach… the way he’d sometimes mix in some fun and banter. He could serious, lightly aloof yet attentive and engaging. Words flowed out of his mouth so poetically at times; it made her feel like a moth to a flame. Wanting nothing more than to listen to him for hours. His looks were just a bonus. That brown hair, stylized in a slight swoop that showed some messiness still. He probably had curls but didn’t know how to properly work them out. That was okay since this worked out too. Deep-set brown eyes that appeared dark but would glow honey-like in the lighting, nice lips; the bottom half plump. Freckles peppered all over that face like constellations in the night sky. Then that body… strong from his achievements in dueling and such. He was tall, built well as if he was sculpted by the Gods themselves.

Despite being confident and sometimes cocky; he had also been a man with insecurities and doubts. Almost feeling as he didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve her. He was a single man; not ever having a serious relationship yet. A man who was once lost in trauma but became a respected professor. He was known for going stoic, being hard to get close to fully. The hardships of life got to him from childhood to now but this woman stepped into his classroom, entered his life and brought back the soul in him, gradually.

Maybe it was love because it wasn’t only during sex that he felt alive. It was any single moment with her. A person never impressed him as much as she did. It was so much more but those deeper feelings stayed unspoken between them for now.

“How does my perfect girl feel right now?” Words punctuated by his movements, “you better feel nothing but this… hngh, all that sadness, I want it fucked out.”

He hated her depression; didn’t want it to capture her and demolish her down the line— she was made for so much and had proven it. If this was what helped then he promised to her, ‘I’ll fuck the depression out of you.’

Who needed medicine when you had Sebastian Sallow?

Her back arched a bit, her hands trembling in his grasp— mind gone almost fuck dumb as he succeeds in his promise.

“Y-you… I only… feel you…” her broken yet lust filled voice croaked out, “Sebastian…”

“That’s my princess… so fucking proud,” he beamed almost. “Letting my cock steal away any hurt… letting me fill this sweet little pussy of yours… gods, this pussy that was made to be fucked by me.”

That got her arousal at a fever pitch now; “fuckkkk… Seb…” and his cock almost felt like it grew larger inside her at that reaction. He was throbbing now.

“Mnnn… you like when I say dirty things to you, don’t you? You like hearing me confess filth… huh?” His eyes darkening slightly as that came out in an almost feral sound.

“Y-yes… yes.” She barely strained out, “I- I do…”

A young woman who can say so many words during class hours; someone so sophisticating… now unable to form much words at all.

Leaning his face down as his thrusts started to get more needy, knowing he would be close soon but he wanted her to cum first— he captured her lips in a burning kiss, tongue diving in to remind himself how divine she tasted. So sweet, like a freshly picked fruit ready to be eaten.

Feeling her tongue try to swirl against his in an attempt of dominance. He found it cute, grinning a bit against her lips until he won that battle— showing her who was the dominant one here. Muffled moans coming from her throat.

Swallowing up her moans like a starved man who needed to devour her. His hand on her wrists letting go, slipping down to find her perky breast; to knead it. To make sure every part of her body felt worshipped. Even though he gave her plenty of foreplay and action beforehand. The marks on her body as proof.

With her hands freed, they latched onto his upper body; nails digging in to mark him in scratches he’d proudly wear. He groaned into her mouth, lifting his lips off of her.

“You’re driving me absolutely mad, you know that?” His voice rasping more and then he felt it. Her cunt tensing up around him; pulsating with need and the way she squirmed with her body… then the look on her face. He knew what it meant.

He stared at her for a moment; panting harshly as he admired how she would look before coming undone. His eyes trailing down her body… the way she was much smaller than him. His heart rate increasing more at the sight. He looked at his cock working into her… the size difference of it all making him feel a bit animalistic.

‘She’s gorgeous… perfect… fuck… how did I get so lucky…’

“That’s it, darling, let go for me.” His voice hoarse because he knew he would be coming right after her.

“S-Sebastian.. I’m… ah—!” She could barely finish that sentence as the orgasm hit and her release coated him. Her back completely arching in the bed; nails dug in deeper, drawing out a little blood to which he didn’t mind.

The flooding sensation of her release pushed him to the edge this time; he pulled his upper body straight up, still rutting into her through her orgasm as his felt himself about to explode. His cock was throbbing so much now, the buildup forming viscously in his balls. Her body going slightly limp, loosening as her nails left his skin— dropping to her sides, lying on the bed. Her pussy waiting for him to be next, still tight even after she came— always relishing it, the final piece of satisfaction.

“Fuck, where… where do you want me to…” he managed to get most of that sentence out, holding back until she answered. He always asked her… despite the answer being the same every time.

“Inside.” Without hesitation she’d moaned out, seeing slight stars in her vision.

“With pleasure, love,” and he finally let go. Spilling waves of hot cum into her; making sure to fill her to the brim so that she knows, they belong with each other. That only he can fill her like this. His hips jerking and cock twitching inside as every drop was taken by her. He always had so much cum to give her and hearing that final cry of his name from her when it happened made it end perfectly.

He gently collapsed onto her; their breaths erratic, chests rising up and down and bodies covered in sweat. Glistening in the light as they tried calming down. They felt beyond satisfied and spent— nothing else was in this moment.

He was still buried inside her as he didn’t want a drop of his cum to slip out yet; he thought he could stay inside of her forever.

Oh, how he wished.

His face nuzzled into her neck as he laid there, peppering light kisses when they started regulating their breathing better. Making sure she got delicate aftercare of love. Only some small pants and gasps still around.

“You were amazing… took me so well, as always,” he murmured against her skin and she smiled softly to herself, eyes half-lidded and dazed. A hand of hers moving up to his back, to rub soothingly up and down.

“You’re amazing too… you make me forget the world.” She whispered sweetly and he let out a soft breath against her neck.

“You do the same for me… beautiful.” He whispered back, slowly lifting his face off her neck so he could look at her properly. When he got some strength back, he moved to not smush her with his weight.

She was blushing at the compliment and looked at him with hearts in her eyes. It was at that moment that he realized, he really did love her. He needed to say it, the feeling was gnawing in his chest.

“Gods, I’m in love with you…” The sincerity in his voice was heard, “not just when we do this… not because of sex, but because it’s you. You make me feel everything…” he took his hand and caressed her cheek tenderly, gazing at her with sheer fondness.

Her heart skipped a beat; a soft exhale escaped as she had waited for that… prayed for those words one day, “I’m in love with you too… there’s nobody but you for me. You make me happy, Sebastian. You make me want to fight in life, you give me strength. I can unapologetically be myself around you.”

His hand trembled a little on her cheek as he melted at her words, “I don’t deserve you but I sure as hell am never letting you go.” A possessiveness overcame him and he pulled out of her, fluids spilling a little to drip down her inner thighs. Had he of stared there, he would have gotten hard again but he focused on her eyes, the confessions they finally shared.

He moved to her side, laying down in bed and taking her easily to make her lay on top of him now. Wrapping his strong arms firmly around her waist, “my love.”

She leaned her face to give him a chaste kiss on the lips, whispering against them with the same words, ‘my love.’

[leonskittybunwriting]

Warnings: smut, probably errors, wolf leon x bunny reader. Chubby reader. Pro Pornstar Leon. Newbie pornstar reader.

A/N: I don't own resident evil characters and I don't own resident evil!

damnation leon x fem reader.

@writingwisterias

Leon sighs to himself as his wolf tail flicks when the director tells one of the cameramen to set it up at a certain angle.

“Leon the newbie is starting today, she's a bunny hybrid, the viewers wanted you to be with a prey hybrid to how your wolf would react.”

Leon huffs and says “and if she gets scared?” The director shrugs and says “That'll be even better.”

Leon growls a little and he ruffles his wolf ears before going to the break room but stops when he hears a soft female voice. “What if he doesn't like my scent?”

“This is your job, not a mating session.” A male's voice says.

“Jack, you're supposed to make me feel better.” she says softly.

Leon sneaks a peek inside the breakroom to see the newbie and his face flushes, he had heard the bunny hybrids were thick, busty, and chubby but he never believed it until now.

Leon gulps at the sight and he palms at his hardening cock gently before hiding his cock behind the towel, his wolf tail moving back and forth slowly.

Leon opens the break room door and he walks in, he glances over at the newbie who perks up and looks up at him.

Leon looks over at her and he wolfishly smirks at her as he grabs an apple and bites into it.

Jack smirks and says “Leon this is the newbie you'll be working with.”

Leon nods at her and says “Hey, are you nervous?”

“Just a little.” She whispers softly, her bunny ears twitching slightly. Leon looks over at Jack and says “We need more lube for the session can you get some?”

Jack nods and leaves.

Leon walks over to you and kneels on his knees and he taps your legs “Open them.”

You flush and whisper “w-what? but we haven't started yet.”

Leon smirks and says “I know but I wanna taste you and I'm sure once they hear you moan they'll be running in and start filming.”

You open your legs and Leon drools at the sight and nibbles on your thick thighs before sucking gently before burying his into your fat cunt and laps at the small hole.

You let out a loud moan and bury your fingers into his hair near the base of his wolf ears.

Leon growls as he grows his wolf tongue and shoves into your fat pussy.

You let out a gutted squeal and grip at his wolf ear and your eyes roll in the back of your head.

The door to the breakroom slams open and the director groans in frustration and says “get me the hand camera!”

Someone runs in and hands it to him and the director starts filming.

You don't even pay attention to the camera but Leon does. His eyes flash red and glares into the camera but the director just chuckles and keeps filming.

You twitch and whimper causing Leon to pull his wolf tongue out of you and pulls back and pulls you as he cleans off the table in one swift moment and slaps your ass roughly and whispers in your ear “Such a dirty bunny aren't you?”

You let out a whimper as Leon removes his towel and he manhandles you, he picks you up and puts you on the table before slamming his rock hard cocking into your fat pussy.

You whimper and arch your back as you dig your nails into his chest.

Leon slaps your breast causing them to bounce. You squeal softly at that and moan when he starts thrusting in and out of you.

The director zooms in on that.

You watch and moan as Leon's wolf tongue hangs lazily out of his mouth as he pounds into you.

“You tasted so good.” Leon mumbles as he leans down and sucks at your nipple as he digs his nails into your hip bone causing you to scream and moan in pain and pleasure before cumming around his cock.

Leon slams his cock into your pussy all the way and knots before falling onto your body with a groan.

“Director, I want her as my partner from now on.” Leon says with a growl.

The director hands the camera over to the tech and says “upload it now.” The director then turns to Leon and says “Alright she can be your partner from now on.”

Leon faces you and leans down and presses his lips against yours and kisses you gently.

[dyaz-stories]

Cuddling — Day two of Inukag Fluff Week

Second one shot for @inukagfluffweek! This one is set in canon, and probably a little more on the hurt/comfort side.

Keeping an eye on Kagome was second nature for Inuyasha. After all, if there wasn’t food on her plate, she’d grow hungry and Jewel shards hunting would be interrupted. If there wasn’t a fire to keep her warm, she’d be too tired to go on. If they were caught in a downpour without shelter, she’d get sick. If she kept going when her legs hurt, the next day would be hell. So he got her food, he built the fire, he found the shelter, he carried her on his back. Not ‘cause he cared, though, well, he did care, a little bit, the normal amount, whatever that was, but for purely practical reasons.

That meant he figured out early on that something was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint what for the life of him, though.

He’d added wood to the fire. He’d caught and cooked a rabbit. He’d carried her on his back half the day, holding her two-wheeled thing in one hand. He’d even offered his services in ridding some farmer of pesky yokai, so they’d get to sleep in a barn for once. Sure, he wasn’t Miroku, and he couldn’t secure them a place in some luxury house, but he was trying his best, ‘kay? Miroku wasn’t around anyway, and Kagome had never complained about luxuries before.

And still, when everything should have been fine, something was clearly wrong. Kagome kept looking in the distance, eyes turning glassy, mouth curving downward as she buried herself in her thought, keeping him so, so far away from her even if she was sitting right next to him.

 Inuyasha had no damn clue how to fix it.

“What is it this time?” he snapped at last as she was finishing her food in silence, taking small, slow bites, and she jumped at the sound of his voice. Her wide brown eyes focused on him at last, and that simple action was grounding enough for him that he would almost have felt sorry for his outburst.

Almost.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and the immediate frown on her face told him she was not to be messed with right now — too bad he didn’t care, at this point.

“What’s wrong with you, you mean,” he scoffed, folding his arms and shaking his head. “You’ve been sulking for days. So tell me how to fix it, or just stop doing that already!”

If he’d been self-aware enough for that, he would no doubt have realized how childish he sounded. Kagome could have, too, but instead, her face flushed.

“I’m fine!” she replied, her voice too high-pitched to be convincing. “It’s not your problem anyway, so just forget about it!”

“How is it not my problem when you’re all—” He gestured at her, frustrated. “—and it’s a pain to travel!”

“Well if it’s a pain to travel with me, why don’t you just go with someone else?” she replied, raising her voice a little more.

“Because I don’t want to travel with someone else!” he yelled back. “I just want you to tell me how to not make it hard for you!”

She went quiet then, uncharacteristically so, red spreading to her ears, and Inuyasha growled under his breath, muttering to himself. He wasn’t sure what to do with this quiet Kagome. If she needed to scream at him to feel better, well, she could get on with that, and at least then she’d be fixed or whatever, but even picking a fight wasn’t working, damn it.

“I’m sorry,” Kagome whispered at last, and Inuyasha started like he’d been stung by a bee. Uh, yeah, not good. She didn’t do that. Even when she was in the wrong, she needed her time and space to calm down, and then she’d apologize, often while bringing him an offering of ramen. She never turned down a fight with an immediate apology.

That was when the tears came.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, sniffing.

“Wh— No— Don’t—” he pleaded, voice cracking, but she paid him no attention.

“I just— It’s been a very long year, you know? And I— I— I miss my mom,” she finally broke, waterfalls on her cheeks, quiet sobs wracking her body as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

Inuyasha froze. He reached out for her without thinking, overwhelmed by the need to make it stop, make it better, make her better, make it so she’d never ever cry again, but his fingers curled up before he could touch her, caught by some other part of his instinct.

“W-why didn’t you just say so! You can just— you can just go home then!” he scoffed, trying very hard to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice.

“But we’ve been on the road for days,” Kagome sniffed, “and it would take days to go back, and we haven’t found that stupid Jewel shard, and I just want her to give me a hug, and—”

“Ha, well I-I can do that too! You could have asked me!”

That made Kagome stop crying for long enough to give him a blank stare.

“Come on, Inuyasha. I’m not going to force you to hug me.”

“W-who said anything about forcing me!”

“Well you don’t look thrilled about it,” she said, doubtful, and at least she was crying a lot less now, but her eyes and nose were still read and he wasn’t going to let that slide, was he?

“J-just— just don’t move, okay?”

Clumsily, despite how careful he was being, he put both arms around her, awkwardly tugging her until he’d brought her against his chest. He was barely touching her, his arms forming a misshaped circle hovering around her. He’d hugged her before, but it had been an impulsive action, not one he’d thought about. He— had no idea how to do it intentionally.

Against his chest, Kagome giggled.

“You have to actually hug me, you know? Like that.”

She did it without hesitation, wrapping her arms around him. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his, and this time when he froze, there were very different emotions running within him. On the top of his head, his ears were twitching, all his senses alert, taking in her breathing that was getting more even, her smell, her breath against his skin. Swallowing, he finally brought himself to close his arms around her, and she sighed contentedly.

“See?” she asked. “That’s nice, isn’t it?”

He could barely reply around the knot in his throat. She felt so soft against him, so delicate. His half-demon strength would make it so, so easy to break her in half — and she knew that. Her warmth was spreading through him, from his chest and face to the root of his hair and the tip of his toes. Everything he felt was Kagome. With great care, he ran his fingers through her hair, not wanting his claws to cut through them by accident. She shivered, tilted her head forward a little to give him better access. Mesmerized, he kept going. Her hair felt soft between his fingers, silky.

Everything about this was calming. And she’d been right. It was nice.

It caught him by surprise when she moved, entangling herself from him.

“Thanks, Inuyasha,” she said, sniffing again. “I’m feeling better. It was nice of you to— Oh!”

He pulled her back into him, this time with a tighter grip.

“You said you needed a hug, so I’m giving you one that’ll last you until I can get you back to your time,” he said gruffly. “Now just sleep, ‘kay?”

Her laugh vibrated through his chest, and he found it to be the best thing he’d ever felt.

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks, Inuyasha.”

He would have told her that he was just doing it so she’d be in the mood for shard hunting the next day, but if she’d called him out, he would never have been able to lie with a straight face, so he chose not to.

‘cause truth be told, now that he was experiencing it, he thought he’d needed that hug at least as much as her.

Don't have ideas for the upcoming themes so this will probably be my last entry for the week! Thank you all for the love on yesterday's entry, hope you've enjoyed this one as well, and I'll see you when I see you!

[togamest]

~400 words. sorry, got a little outta hand this morning on the train. teehee.

thinking about togame letting you ride him, having you sit down so gently on him and feeling every inch of him press against every little point within you that makes your legs shake. your eyes are threatening to roll back in your head as you let out a small huff, bottoming out and letting him work you open, rutting against him.

then, you move, and you hear his breath hitch.

it’s slow, the pace you take. you can’t move the way you used to, but you try anyway. he’s enamored with you, sweaty black hair sticking to his forehead as he watches you, big green eyes darkening in his head. he’s enraptured, not even reacting to the sting of your nails digging into his shoulders as you move — up and down, up and down, bottoming out and moving until his tip is just about to slip out of you.

“fuck, baby,” he rumbles, and you throw your head back with a moan. he doesn't stop talking, his voice smooth as honey. "yeah, work that cock. you're doing so good, so good f'me. just use me, yeah? use me to get what you want. you look so fuckin' good, baby, so wet—"

the high you’re chasing is getting closer; you pick up the pace to finally feel it. the friction of his happy trail against your clit is only exacerbating the feeling, the coil in your stomach hot and warm—

and then your knees give out.

you tremble as you struggle to keep going, the dull pain on the outsides of your knees steadily growing worse. the pacing's off. you know togame’s noticed; he's so perceptive. almost to his detriment sometimes.

suddenly, you feel his hands wrap around your waist. his lips are against the shell of your ear in an instant, and you curve into him, one hand digging into his shoulder, the other embracing the short hairs of his undercut. without even realizing it, he's moved your legs so your feet are planted on either side of him. a much better position for you with less strain on your joints.

"fuck, i'm-i'm getting old," you manage to stammer out as he moves you slowly, hands firm against your skin; claiming complete and utter control from you as easily as taking candy from a child.

he rumbles what sounds like a chuckle. "'s okay, baby. 'm always happy to take th' lead from ya."

divider credits: @/cafekitsune

© togamest 2023-2024

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Emotions Pt 2 | Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18+ ONLY!!!, cunnilingus, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), discussions of grief

Word Count: 3110

A/N: Hi! Trying to work on my requests to give myself a bit of an escape from what’s going on in my personal life right now. I am combining requests I was getting for a part 2 to my Sam x Angel!Reader fic with another request from much later in the queue, so I did have to jump around in the order of my fic requests! I hope that’s okay! 

General Writings Masterlist

Pt 1

If you thought humans were strange and intriguing before, being human was even stranger. Your existence had been predictable before you met Sam Winchester. And now, you were feeling and experiencing multitudes you hadn’t known to be possible. Navigating the full scape of human emotion was incredibly difficult and draining at times. Thoughts you’d never had emotion assigned to would cross your mind at random times of the day. And suddenly, you’d be sniffling and trying to control the tears forming in your eyes. 

Sam had gotten good at navigating these moments with you. He would talk about your feelings with you very openly and share some of his own. 

The first time you realized that Sam would one day die, possibly leaving you on earth alone, you were horrified. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, seeing you trying to hold back tears while staring at the ground. 

“You’re gonna die one day,” you said plainly. 

“Uh, yeah,” he snorted. “Yeah, I am.”

“It’s not funny,” you snapped, eyes flashing to his. 

He shook his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He sat down on the chair across from you. “Just caught me off-guard, ‘s all,” Sam replied. “What brought that on?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It just… came over me all of a sudden. Does that not scare you?”

He considered for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“ ‘Cause somebody told me Heaven’s real—” he nudged your knee with his, making you huff out a small laugh— “and maybe I’ll get to see my mom. Actually meet her.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” you asked.

Sam stared at you for a moment. 

“You’re my best friend, Sam. What am I supposed to do if you die first?” you asked, eyes becoming glassy again.

“What you did before me,” he replied simply. “You just gotta keep going.”

“No offense, Sam, but you’ve been a complete mess without Dean.”

“That’s different. He’s my brother,” Sam said. 

Your gaze was soft, but it held intensity. So much so that it made Sam squirm beneath it. 

“What?” he asked. 

“I don’t think it’s different,” you sniffed. “I just think it’s— oh, what’s that word— grief.”

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you. 

“And I think that because you know what you know, you’re convinced that there’s some way to bring him back. And because you can’t do it, you’re not allowing yourself to accept the grief. You’re just… kinda… stuck,” you finished. 

A heavy silence blanketed the air. 

“Y’know, for an angel with zero understanding of human emotion, that was pretty good,” the young man chuckled.

A genuine smile spread across your face.

****

Even with Dean gone, you could see Sam starting to heal. You hoped you played a large part in that. However, you were growing curious as to why you hadn’t heard the angels talking about Castiel retrieving Dean. What were they waiting on?

Ruby hadn’t shown her face, either, much to your surprise. You assumed she could feel that you were here and decided to make herself scarce. A wise choice on her part, if you did say so yourself. 

Sam’s demon blood addiction would sometimes cripple him. On those days where his withdrawals or cravings would get bad, you would sit on the couch or the kitchen floor with his head in your lap and allow him to cry or sleep until the pain subsided. Sometimes, he’d get angry with himself for not being strong enough to push through the affliction on his own, to which you’d remind him that not many humans survive demon blood addiction as well as he had.

“It fucking hurts, (Y/N),” Sam told you, shivering beside you. Sweat beaded at every pore, and his face was flushed. 

You held a wet rag to the back of his neck while he clutched at your knee.

“I know, Sammy—”

“Why didn’t you just let me have it? Maybe I could find Lilith if you’d just—”

You cut him off, trying not to get angry with him. “Sam, no.”

“—But (Y/N)—”

“No.” You pushed yourself off the couch and turned to sit on the ground so that you were eyelevel with him. “I will not let you do that to yourself again. Do you hear me?”

Sam grimaced with watery eyes, but he nodded. 

“I— I can’t watch that happen to you,” you said, tears catching in your throat. It was surprising to find yourself unable to express yourself evenly and coherently as you always had, but your emotion seemed to help you get through to Sam more. 

The other angels had no idea what they were missing. 

***

When you were an angel, you truly didn’t have an internal dialogue. And now, your mind was flooded with constant thought. Occasionally, it was burdensome, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

Before, all you had was experience and memory. It was as if you were entirely continuous with your environment, and you took everything around you at surface value. There was no internal reflection. 

“That’s called ‘sonder’,” Sam explained to you. 

“What is?” you asked, temporarily looking away from the river below you. 

You’d discovered a creaky, wooden bridge over a rushing stream on a walk through the forest with Sam. 

“What you just said. Realizing that everybody has their own experiences, and thoughts, and lives entirely separate from yours,” he continued.

You gently kicked your feet back and forth over the edge of the bridge with your arms crossed over the railing in front of you. Sam sat beside you, watching you. “Does it ever get overwhelming?” you asked him, thinking maybe you were the only one feeling so burdened by thought as a result of your new status as a human. 

“What?” Sam asked. 

“Feeling. Thinking,” you elaborated, unable to look at him out of fear that he may judge you.

“Yeah, frequently.” He nodded, a slight smile on his lips. “But, uh, certain things make it better.”

That caught your attention, as his tone sounded a bit loaded. “What things?”

He kept his gaze down but nudged your shoulder with his. “Certain angels.”

A wide smile spread across your face. “Certain Sam Winchesters make it better for me, too.”

He returned your expression. 

***

The fall months were upon you. The cabin you stayed in with Sam was where you first discovered what “warmth” was as you sat by the fire. Now, though, a different feeling encompassed you. 

It started slowly; ignorable, almost. First, small little bumps formed on your arms while you brought the trash out to the dumpster about a mile away from the cabin. Then, you felt like the wind was blowing through your body. You tried your hardest to ignore the feeling, but soon, it felt like your insides were shaking. 

It freaked you out, to say the least. And when you lifted the lid of the dumpster to put your trash inside, your fingers were blue. In fact, you almost couldn’t feel them at all. 

“What the fuck,” you muttered. 

Afraid of what was happening to you, you began running all the way back to the cabin. When you nearly broke the door down with your entry, Sam jumped to his feet. “Whoa, (Y/N), what the hell?”

You were panting, hunched over, and panicking. “Something— is happening…” you swallowed thickly, “to me.”

Sam rushed over to you, bending down to your level and tucking your hair behind your ear. “What? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed out. You looked down at your fingertips and realized they weren’t blue anymore. “Wait, where’d it go?”

You and Sam both straightened up, and you continued to search your fingers for the discoloration. 

“Where’d what go?” Sam questioned. 

“My— My fingers were blue just a minute ago,” you explained. 

“Blue?” he repeated.

You nodded. “And my insides were shaking.”

A small smile began to pull at the ends of Sam’s lips. “Did you also have little bumps on your arms?”

Your eyes snapped to his. “How’d you know that?”

“You’re a seraph. You’ve been around for forever, and you got scared of the wind?” Sam asked. 

“The wind didn’t do that to me,” you said pitifully, “it’s never done that before.”

Sam laughed. 

“It’s not funny,” you pouted grouchily. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam continued. “You just got cold, (Y/N).”

You furrowed your brow. 

“Here,” the brunet continued. He opened the door for you, and you walked out of it hesitantly. The first of the Autumn leaves had fallen to the ground and crunched under your feet as you made your way out. 

Sam followed behind, and the two of you stood beside each other silently. You looked up at the trees rustling in the wind, and small wisps of your hair began to lift away from your face. And then, you felt the little bumps forming on your arms again. You looked down, a little less afraid this time. 

“See? Just the wind,” Sam explained. 

Then, a shiver ripped down your spine, and your body began to shake from the feeling. 

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” he said. Once you were, Sam offered you the jacket that was laying on the back of a chair in the kitchen. You wrapped yourself in it while he continued to tend the fire. 

“It’s probably gonna get cooler tonight, too,” he explained, dusting his hands off and standing from the ground. “This room’s the only one with heat in it.” 

Your eyes widened in worry, as your shivering hadn’t stopped even with the jacket wrapped around you. 

Sam chuckled with fondness at your expression. “You can take my bed.”

“But won’t you be cold, too?” you asked through your clattering teeth. 

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.” Off your look, he continued. “Seriously. I’m kinda a human furnace.”

“C’mere, then,” you asserted. 

The brunet seemed caught off-guard. 

“Please?” you begged. “I’m still cold.”

Hesitantly, he sat on the couch beside you and opened his arms to you. You shuffled across the couch to where you were curled into his chest between his outstretched legs. Sam relaxed against the arm of the couch and wrapped his strong arms around you.

With a look that almost bordered on pleading, you pulled back from his chest and stared up at him. His eyes seemed to almost search your face before he began to lean down toward you. Feeling a sudden surge of confidence, you leaned up to press your lips to his. 

Sam immediately groaned at the contact, and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hands explored the curves of your waist. When his hand grazed the underside of your breast, you took in a sharp breath. 

Immediately, Sam broke the kiss. “Is this okay?”

Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your breast. An intense lust clouded his eyes, and Sam pulled your head back toward his while he kneaded your breast in his hand. 

Heat flooded your thighs, and you were a bit overwhelmed by the feeling. Your breath quickened as you allowed Sam to push your shirt up over your head. 

He broke the kiss again only to say, “Bed, now.”

You nodded eagerly, pressing your lips back against his. He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist. With you pressed so closely to him, you subconsciously began to grind against him as he carried you over to his bed in the corner of the room. He gently laid you on the bed and pressed his forehead to yours, panting. “You can’t— You can’t do that.”

“What?” you asked timidly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sam shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. “No, no, you’re fine. But I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you keep doing that.”

Hesitantly, you planted your feet on the bed on either side of his hips and began to grind up into him. 

A challenge in Sam’s eyes, he leaned back down to kiss you with an unrivaled passion. His hands roamed your torso, careful to avoid the band of your sweatpants. Gently, he ran his hands along the band of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

You nodded feverishly, breath quickening. As soon as he’d gotten it off, Sam began to kiss down your chest while kneading your breasts in his hands. He continued to kiss down your stomach, nipping at the soft flesh every once in a while. When he was eye-level with your clothed pussy, he asked, “Can I take these off?” running his hands over your clothed hips. 

You nodded, but Sam could tell something was wrong. “What is it?” He straightened up. 

“I’ve just never done this before,” you said honestly. 

“It’s okay,” Sam told you. “If you wanna stop, we can stop.”

You quickly shook your head “no.” “Don’t stop, please.”

He chuckled and began to take your sweatpants and underwear down your hips slowly, teasingly. 

“Please, Sam,” you said. “I don’t know what this feeling is, but I need you here.” You took his hand and brought it near your throbbing cunt. 

He took in a sharp breath, almost seeming unable to contain himself. “Can I touch you?” he asked. 

You nodded eagerly, and he pulled your hips closer to the edge of the bed before dragging his fingers through your folds. You keened while his long, thick fingers circled your clit. He then pulled your thighs toward his face and dove between them, lapping at your clit like a man starved. Your hands flew to his head, and he grabbed them, lacing your fingers together. Sam held your hands on either side of your body, gently stroking them with his thumbs in contrast to the fierceness he was eating you out with. 

“God, Sam!” you cried, grinding your hips into his face. That simply spurred him on more. 

Suddenly, what felt like a knot began to form in your lower stomach. “Wait, Sam,” you said, as the knot began to tighten. 

He pulled away from you, bringing his fingers back to your clit while he crawled over the top of you. “Uh-huh?” he asked. 

You continued to grind down onto his fingers, closing your eyes at the pleasurable feeling. “Something—” you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out, “Something’s happening.”

Sam smiled. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s normal.”

You nodded breathlessly. “Okay.” 

Then, he started to insert his middle finger into you, pulling a sharp breath out of you. 

“I know,” he coaxed you. “But I gotta get you ready for me, okay?”

You nodded. 

“Words, (Y/N/N),” he asserted. 

“Okay,” you said shakily. 

Sam inserted one finger, and then, another. He began to move them in and out of you while putting pressure on your clit with the heel of his hand. The feeling was overwhelming, and you tried to close your legs around his hand. However, you were stopped by his body between your legs. 

The feeling continued to build and build, and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore. A string of moans and curses left your mouth. 

“Just let it happen, okay? I’ve got you,” Sam told you. 

You nodded. 

“Words,” he demanded. 

“Yes, god, yes,” you replied. “Don’t stop,” you begged. 

He scissored his fingers inside of you, pushing you over the edge. The knot in your stomach snapped, and your core began to throb around his fingers. 

“God, Sam!” you cried out. “Fuck!” 

As your breathing began to slow, he asked, “You okay?” You nodded. “Yeah,” you breathed out. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smirked lopsidedly. 

You looked down at the bulge in jeans, and you looked up at him wantonly. 

“No, no, this isn’t about me,” he told you. 

“But I wanna make you feel good,” you whined. 

“You already are,” Sam told you. 

You leaned up to pull his face down to yours, kissing him again to convey everything you felt for him in that moment. You helped him out of his jeans, and once he had a condom on, he began to line himself up at your entrance. 

“You sure you want this?” Sam asked. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Please, I need it.”

Slowly but surely, he began to push into you. He put his elbows on either side of your head, allowing you to curl your nails into his back with the pressure you were feeling inside of you. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable,” he told you.

You shook your head, bringing your hands to either side of his face and kissing him deeply. Sam used that opportunity of distraction to push himself all the way inside, causing both of you to moan into each other’s mouths. 

Once he’d ensured you adjusted, he began to thrust into you. Sam’s movements were slow and deep, allowing you to feel every inch and ridge of his cock. You closed your eyes and dropped your head back in pure euphoria as he began to pick up his pace, bringing both of you closer to your climaxes. 

When you felt the knot beginning to form in your stomach again, you brought your hand to your clit and rubbed circles over it. Sam, having none of it, pushed your hand aside and mimicked the motion himself, allowing you to rake your nails up and down his back. Between the feeling of him thrusting inside of you and the pressure on your clit, the knot inside you snapped. 

With a keening cry, you moved your hips in time with histo ride out your high while Sam rode out his. The two of you breathed heaving breaths, allowing time for both of you to come down.

When the both of you were cleaned up and thoroughly spent, Sam held you against his chest while you drew invisible patterns on his upper chest. 

With a smile tugging on the ends of his lips, Sam asked, “You still cold?”

Taglist for Emotions:

@slutforfictionalcharacterss @criminalmindsiscool @littledebbieinabigworld

Forever tags are open; Series Rewrite taglist is closed!! :) Requests are open!

[dark-and-kawaii]

Your work emboldens me greatly, so I feel the need to share. ♡ You've truly made me a sucker for evil Absolute Zevlor.

All I can think about lately is Tav begging Absolute Zevlor not to cum inside her, begging him not to get her pregnant. He will impregnate her in due time, but it seems he needs to remind her that she's not in a position to be asking for anything. So he decides to teach her to be careful what she's wishes for.

With nothing but her own slick as lubricant he switches from her cunt to her ass. Splitting her open and seating his knot fully inside her pained, spasming asshole. He won't knot her pussy just yet, won't breed her yet, but that's no reason to not still cum inside his pet. 

Does he immediate muffle her screams? or does he let her howl in pain for everyone to hear?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Wha wa wee!!! This is very noice!!! ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ ) *thumbs up legs spread* I’m not going to lie I read this on repeat for like a very long time and would keep coming back to it ♡!!! Hmmm I would say it depends on evil Zevlor’s mood, but for the most part~ hehehe ima just write it down for you my love ♡!!! *smooches you~* Thanks for coming through my ask box xoxo

Zevlor is about to lift his hand and cover his pretty little things mouth with his massive, calloused palm, but as he looks at the beautiful, pained, expression on his little pet's face he thinks better of it. He wants everyone to hear how much he enjoys using her, breaking her.

He can feel her body fighting him. She is not made to take something so massive, but it doesn't matter, because Zevlor is not leaving this tight, warm, hole until he has finished pumping every drop of his cum deep inside her bowls.

So he keeps her there, pinned down with his knot buried balls deep inside her. And he’ll keep her impaled on his fat knot until the cum he pumps into her ass starts to seep out of her around him… Until he hears his knot leave her ruined puckered hole with a sickly pop sound just so he can force it back inside her, plugging her up to not waste a single drop of his milky warm seed.

“Keep screaming”, is all that he’ll tell her, “until those lungs burn, until you have no more tears to shed. Until you realize you belong here, impaled on my knot, bred until your stomach-“ his hand caresses your still flat tummy, “swells with my child.”

His hips begin thrusting, and her screams grow louder. He will break her, but he will make her love every minute of it, “until you realize you are in no position to demand orders from me…”

[hog-farmer]

Chimera Laios

“Falin, look out!” Laios shouts as he lunges himself at his disoriented sister, shoving her out of the way of the red dragon’s maw. 

As she falls to the ground Laios feels the monster’s fangs pierce through his armor and forcefully dig themselves into his abdomen. Before he can even process the pain he’s hoisted high into the air as the dragon lifts its head. Disoriented and stunned, he gazes down at the scarred battlefield. The members of his party lay defeated and scattered among the fire and rubble.

“Run! Get everyone out of here!” Laios yells through the pain down to a horrified Falin. With a worried expression his sister hesitantly raises her staff as it begins to glow. 

The light it emits quickly becomes blinding, forcing Laios to look away. When it finally subsides and he can see again his companions have completely disappeared. The relief for their safety is short lived when the dragon’s rumbling reminds him of his current situation.

In the blink of an eye the dragon tosses Laios a short distance into the air and snaps its maw around his entire body. He lands against its tongue which quickly forces him back towards the monster’s throat. Laios tries to struggle and fight as best he can in his wounded state, but it's no use. The flesh around him is too smooth and damp to get any sort of grip and even if he could he’s too weak and sluggish to do anything useful. 

Plunged into darkness, the slick muscles constrict tightly around Laios as they work to drag him down. His breathing becomes shallower from the pressure and exhaustion, as well as the unforgiving heat of the dragon’s insides. Though he can’t see anything Laios feels his vision slowly fading, a different kind of darkness overtaking him as he lands in the dragon’s stomach and passes out.

Deep in his mind Laios can still feel the pain that radiates through his body. It's sharp and stings especially around his lungs and abdomen. Though it gradually begins to fade away, growing evermore numb till he cant feel anything anymore. He feels calm and lighter, like he could just drift away into the sky and never come back down. However, that drifting stops, like a weight has been placed on him to keep him in place. For a while Laios stays like this, suspended in a sea of emptiness. Weightless, but weighed down all at once. The only thing he can do is let his mind wonder, but even then there's not much he can think of at the moment. 

He’s not sure how long it's been but eventually he begins to hear something. It starts faint but quickly grows louder, sounding like hushed whispers of a tongue he can't understand. Eventually, through the echo of voices Laios feels something begin to forcefully drag him down. The immense pain he once felt flares up once more, but it quickly fades again, leaving a dull ache across his body. 

Through the darkness he feels light slowly return, encouraging him to open his eyes to the view of his sister. Her worried face looms above him with patches of dried blood smeared across it. Laios tries taking a breath to speak, but the air quickly catches on something in his throat, sending him into a coughing fit.

“Big brother!” He hears Falin cry above him. Her hands are instantly on his blood-soaked body, rolling him onto his side and gently rubbing his back. “That’s it, just cough it out,” she soothes as he hacks up the blood blocking his airway. When the last of it is gone and his breathing finally evens out he looks up through teary eyes at his sister.

“Fa…lin,” Laios hoarsely croaks before she tightly wraps her arms around him in a hug.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” she quietly sighs as her weight sinks into him. With slightly stiff limbs Laios reciprocates the gesture, holding her as best he can. After a moment Laios feels a chill run through him, making him notice his bare body and the cold cobblestone underneath him. “Oh! Sorry, let me go get you a blanket,” Falin rambles when she feels her brother shiver. 

She quickly retrieves one from her pack and before wrapping it around Laios she uses it to wipe away a majority of the blood from his face. While she fusses over him the other members of their party make their way over to join them. “Marcille, Chilchuck,” Laios weakly greets as he recognizes the half-elf and half-foot respectively.

“Hey Laios, how’re you feeling?” Marcille asks, though she herself looks pretty exhausted.

“He’s still a bit disoriented, but otherwise he seems alright,” Falin answers for him with a soft nod from her brother.

“Good to hear,” Chilchuck responds before looking back to introduce the newcomer among them. “This guy here’s Senshi, he’s been a big help on our journey.”

“Good to meet ya, Laios. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Senshi, the dwarf, kindly greets.

“Senshi,” Laios softly tries the name as he takes in the dwarf’s appearance. Like most dwarves he has a strong stocky build. A horned helm obscures most of his face, only revealing his eyes and nose. A long ruffled beard spills out from below it and covers a majority of his torso. As Laios stares his stomach lets out a gurgle that disrupts the quiet atmosphere.

“Sounds like a good time to start prepping a meal,” Falin comments with a light chuckle. With that she helps Laios stand on his slightly shaky legs till he’s steady.

“Let’s find a spot to wash up first,” Senshi suggests as he comes up behind the tall-man to help support him. “Then we can settle down nearby and get cooking.”

The rest of the group nod in agreement and gather their supplies to head out. Luckily they don’t have to search for long as they come across a hot bath area along a random corridor. It consists of only one room, so the party decided to take turns with the women going first. After some time they reemerge looking refreshed and pass the room off to the guys.

The interior has several fixtures along its walls that spout streams of hot water. A large tub sits at the center of everything with water gently flowing over its edges. The excess water congregates at various drains scattered around the floor. Small gaps along the top of the walls act as vents to mitigate the amount of steam held in the room.

When Laios enters he immediately heads for the bath in the center, discarding the blanket around his shoulders as he does so. As he sinks up to his shoulders the dried blood that was coating his body begins to dissolve. It darkens the liquid around him till the cycling water slowly turns it clear again. With the remaining blood on his head Laios takes breath and slips under the water’s surface. 

While he scrubs his face and hair Laios subtly feels the water be disturbed elsewhere. Carefully opening his eyes underwater reveals a burly leg has entered the tub a few feet away from him with another one following soon after. Laios watches as the muscular pair bend and submerge themselves further, bringing with them more of the man they’re attached to. Sturdy thighs lead up into round, firm glutes and a bulky torso. Dark wispy hairs are scattered across the lightly tanned flesh, mostly condensing around the man’s sizable member. 

Transfixed, Laios lets his mouth drift open, accidentally releasing the breath he’d been holding. Mindlessly, he tries breathing in again but the water around him immediately catches in his throat. The tall-man quickly resurfaces, sputtering and coughing to clear his airway.

“You doing alright there Laios?” Senshi asks as he finishes settling into the tub. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine,” Laios hurriedly responds when he finally catches his breath. He bashfully tries to keep his eyes directed away from the dwarf but they futilely drift back towards him. 

His dense beard still obscures most of his upper torso, but a sliver of his firm chest and stomach can be seen from the side. Buff arms lay across the edge of the tub, matching his legs with a dusting of black hair across them. The thing that captivates Laios the most though is his face. Unobstructed by his helm, his features look sharper even while relaxed. Handsome and manly.

“Don’t take too long guys, we still gotta find a place for tonight,” Laios hears Chilchuck call out. Breaking his eyes away from Senshi reveals the half-foot is already done bathing. His hair’s still slightly damp as he finishes dressing and gathers his supplies.

As Chilchuck exits the room Laios turns around and sinks back down into the water with his nose just above its surface. His wandering eyes find their way back to Senshi, fixating on the dwarf once more. As he stares, a thought starts forming inside his head. Laios screws his eyes shut, embarrassed but wrestling with the idea of following through with it. Eventually he settles on a decision as he slips the rest of his head below the water’s surface.

Now underwater Laios is again presented with the bare, lower half of Senshi. He slowly drifts himself closer to the dwarf, careful to not disturb the water around him too much. After taking in the up-close view of the burly figure Laios tentatively rests his hand on one of Senshi’s calves. He feels the muscle tense under his touch but the other man doesn’t move or knock Laios away. Soon, the leg in his grasp relaxes, wordlessly encouraging Laios to venture further. 

His hand slowly glides upwards, passing over Senshi’s knee and settling on his inner thigh. Laios begins to gently knead the soft flesh before bringing his other hand up to mirror the action on the other thigh. While his hands are busy Laios watches as the dwarf’s member starts reacting to his touch. It flicks and twitches as it grows beyond the patch of hair around it to its full length. 

Without hesitation, Laios drifts his head closer to the now engorged appendage and gently wraps his lips around the head. He feels Senshi give a quick shudder underneath him, so Laios decides to go further. Taking more of the girthy cock into his mouth as his tongue rolls itself along its underside. He reaches down to its base, burying his nose into the hair surrounding it. 

After a few moments though, Laios begins to feel the stress on his lungs from staying underwater. He quickly releases the full member and pushes himself upwards to break the water. However, he resurfaces into a dense bramble of dark damp hair. Between that and the hot water his breaths feel strained and heavy.

Just before Laios can dive back under he feels the hair around him begin to lift. As it does so the air becomes easier to breathe and Laios can finally see without the dark strands obstructing his view. Though the first thing he manages to see is Senshi’s throbbing length as the dwarf perches himself on the edge of the tub. With a soft gaze, Senshi gently brings a hand to the back of Laios’ head and silently guides him back toward his member. 

With that little bit of encouragement Laios eagerly plunges back down, completely engulfing the dwarf’s cock once more. With his mouth now occupied and the hardy musk around him Laios feels his body completely go lax. He rests his head against Senshi’s thigh and lazily suckles on the engorged cock.

Senshi softly combs his hand through Laios’ hair, drawing out content hums from the relaxed tall-man. Their vibrations feel amazing on his member, causing it to pulse and twitch in excitement. 

Eventually, the sensations start to become overwhelming to Senshi as he feels his climax steadily approaching. As gently as he can Senshi starts to shallowly thrust his hips. Laios rolls his eyes back and lets out a deep muffled moan in response when he feels the dwarf begin to pleasure himself with his mouth.

This finally pushes Senshi over the edge, causing him to roughly force Laios all the way down his cock. Laios feels the head of Senshi’s member hit the back of his throat as pulse after pulse of seed is forced down it. As his climax subsides, Senshi gradually releases Laios’ head from his grasp. With slightly watery eyes the tall-man slowly pulls away from the member with a couple strands of saliva still connecting him to it.

With a soft, breathless ‘thank you’ from Senshi the pair silently return to cleaning themselves up. Afterwards, Senshi puts back on his clothes and armor and Laios dresses in an extra pair of his sleepwear that Falin luckily had on hand. Once they’re done they rejoin their waiting party members and head out in search of a safe place to rest. They investigated several buildings before choosing a house that had very few points of entry.

From there the gang started their usual routine for preparing a meal and settling in for the night. Since Laios wasn’t sure how or where to help he mostly followed along with what his sister was doing. All the while though, Laios would find his gaze wandering over to whatever Senshi was doing. Watching as the dwarf prepared a meal using meat from the dragon and whatever else they had on hand. 

Eventually, they all settled down around a table with various dishes spread across it. A pizza bread topped with onions, a seasoned roast of red dragon meat, and a soup made using the dragon’s tail. It all looked so delicious that Laios didn’t know where to start. Though it seems he doesn’t have to decide when Senshi hands him a plate with a slice of pizza topped with a few pieces of dragon meat. Realizing his gnawing hunger, Laios hastily takes a large bite out of the slice.

“This is delicious!” Laios excitedly declares once he finishes swallowing his bite.

“Glad ya like it,” Senshi replies with a light chuckle. “Take your revenge on that dragon,” he adds as he sets a bowl full of the soup beside Laios’ plate. 

Everyone else begins to dig into their meals as well, with their chewing occasionally interrupted by light conversation. Most of what they talk about is catching Laios up on what he’s missed, mainly the monsters they’ve encountered on their way down to this level of the dungeon.

“So you guys have been eating monsters like this the entire time!? Which ones did you like? What tasted the best? What’s the craziest thing you’ve eaten so far?” Laios enthusiastically rambles.

“Well, I really liked how basilisk tasted, but I think living armor was probably the strangest,” Falin responds after pondering for a second.

“You ate living armor! How’d you do that?” Laios loudly asks, completely astounded.

“Turns out they’re actually comprised of a mollusk colony, they use the armor as their shell,” Marcille joins in with an answer.

“That’s so cool!” Laios comments with amazement in his eyes.

The rest of the meal played out the same, with Laios excessively prodding the others for more information about the monsters they faced. Once all the food was finished up they cleared the table and cleaned their supplies. Afterward, everyone selected a bed upstairs and turned in for the night. As Laios settles down on the plush surface he feels his exhaustion from today’s events finally hit him. Closing his eyes allows a peaceful sleep to finally overtake him.

—-

A couple hours later, Laios suddenly awakens with a silent startle. He sits up in his bed and tries to look around for what would’ve woken him up, but his gaze fixates on the only window of the room. Without his input Laios feels his body get up and slowly meander its way towards it. When he reaches its ledge he mentally tries to pull back but his body continues forward. 

In an instant Laios finds himself landing on the cobbled street below, though surprisingly with no pain from the fall. Again, his body continues moving on its own accord. It feels like aimless wandering, but his body seems to know where it’s going when he stumbles upon the corpse of the red dragon.

“Oh, there you are,” calls a chilling voice that cuts through the dead silence of the night. Turning towards its source reveals an elf standing before the dragon’s head. His tanned skin greatly contrasts his very pale and neatly braided hair.

“Why do you look like that?” The elf continues with a monotone question. “I thought I gave you a mission to search for his majesty. I do not recall allowing you to rest,” he adds as he turns his piercing gaze on Laios.

From beneath his short cloak the elf produces a very ornate and gilded book. It floats in front of him and opens on its own, rapidly flipping through seemingly endless pages. As he reads an incantation his voice echoes throughout, seemingly coming from everywhere around them.

Behind the elf the dragon’s body begins to melt. Its flesh oozes and falls off its skeleton in chunks, condensing in a large puddle of blood below it. 

As Laios watches he feels a sharp pain start to radiate through his head. In response, his hands come up to clutch it as his legs start stiffly moving on their own again. They take him towards the dragon’s melting remains, stepping his bare feet into its pooling blood. Once he stops in the center of its ribs Laios collapses to his knees. He stays there for what feels like forever, curled in on himself as he writhes through the head splitting pain.

“Laios!” the tall-man hears his sister shout from a distance. When he tries to look up she’s suddenly kneeling beside him with a very concerned expression. She begins to ask him what’s wrong, but she’s interrupted by the elven mage from earlier. He stares down at her with a cold expression, calling her a thief and an intruder. 

Just as he’s about to reach out and grab Falin an explosion fires off overhead, splattering one of the dragon's ribs. Marcille and the others stand behind them, the half-elf has her staff raised ready to fire off another spell.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Falin tries encouraging her brother while the mage is distracted with the rest of their party. With all the commotion going on and the paralyzing pain Laios involuntarily lashes out in response.

“Get away!” Laios blindly yells as he shoves his sister away. The force behind it was unnaturally greater than normal, knocking Falin unconscious and sending her across the street towards their companions.

After that the mage brandishes his spellbook again. Like before its countless pages fly from one end to the other as his voice echoes off every stone and down every alley. The blood pooling around him bubbles and boils in several spots before small wyvern-like creatures begin to form and rise from it.

“Devour them!” The mage angrily shouts as the tiny wyverns take to the air and swarm above the party. They rapidly descend and attack with their razor sharp fangs and claws, landing a few shallow slashes on each of the adventurers.

The team’s still conscious magic-user manages to handle them though, dispelling each one by overwriting the spell that created them. When the last of the draconic monsters are defeated the mage moves on to his next  idea. Focusing on the ground around the party he forces a small chasm to open up directly under them, sending them into the dark depths below. With the intruders handled the mage directs his focus back onto a still struggling Laios.

“Hey dragon,” the elf’s call makes Laios freeze as he slowly turns his attention towards him. “That must be inconvenient, let me change your form for you,” he continued with a slow wave of his hand.

The blood surrounding Laios begins to boil, like it did moments ago with the wyverns. The viscous liquid unnaturally begins creeping up his body, completely covering his legs and trailing further up his torso. A numbness overtakes his legs as the blood beneath him begins to form a growing mound around them. Laios feels the mass begin to prop him as more and more of the coagulating liquid amasses underneath him.

“Now, do as you’ve been ordered to,” the elven mage coldly commands.

“Yes…” Laios breathlessly agrees as he feels the blood creep up towards his face. 

With that, the mage curtly turns around and begins to walk away. The streets and buildings warp and shift out of his way to give him a direct path, but quickly return to how they were once he’s far enough away. Now alone, Laios feels the pain that's raging through his body begin to settle in. He slumps forward and lands face first on the bloodied stone below. As his mind begins to fade out Laios feels the blood that’s crawling across his face begin to cloud over his eyes. His vision is slowly tinted with red till black overtakes everything and he falls unconscious. 

—

After a while Laios’ groggy eyes blink open as he’s stirred awake. His neck is stiff and his head feels heavy as he tries to look out at his surroundings. He’s still in the middle of the street where he passed out, though a few of the buildings seem to have shifted around him.

Propping himself up on his arms Laios tries pushing himself back up into a kneeling position. His balance is immediately offset though when he’s thrown up higher than anticipated. Overcorrecting almost sends his face crashing down into the cobblestone again, but he manages to extend his arms in time to catch himself. After a pause Laios tries to bring himself upright again, though slower this time to acclimate to the unnatural height. 

Looking downward reveals the reason for his thrown off balance. Where his normal legs once were are now a folded pair of those of a giant canine, far larger than a dire-wolf. They’re coated in light gray fur that comes up to Laios’ waist and tapers off into his torso. 

As his eyes trail up his body he notices more fur centered on his chest and lightly scattered down his arms. The nails on his fingers have become black talons, long and sharp. Laios turns his head to see the fur continue down his back and trial into the lower torso of a dragon. It’s slightly smaller, though proportional, to that of a red dragon, along with its scarlet colored scales matching perfectly. 

Laios tries to move the new, unsteady limbs of his altered form, attempting to stand with them. It’s a little uncoordinated at first, but eventually he manages to get himself upright. When Laios slowly starts to hobble down the street he tries to recall what happened earlier. Every memory in his head feels incredibly fuzzy, but one thing immediately snaps to the forefront of his mind.

“I must find Lord Delgal,” Laios absentmindedly drones as he proceeds to lumber his enormous, amalgamated body down the alleyway.

From there Laios wandered throughout the desolate fifth floor of the dungeon. He’d roam up and down the labyrinth of countless streets, peering down every alley and into the buildings set up along them. In one of them Laios managed to catch a reflection of his face. Two sets of short horns, like those of the red dragon, now protrude from his head. His canine teeth are much sharper, with a second set behind each of them and the pupils of his eyes are now slitted. 

Time absently passed in a blur, with every new corner he’d turn down looking as indecipherable as the last. Despite the creeping feeling of exhaustion dragging on him, the words of his mission tirelessly run through Laios’ head.

‘Find… Lord… Delgal…’

‘Find… Lord… Delgal…’

‘Find… Lord… Delgal…’

‘Find…’ *Guuuurrrrgle* ‘…Food…’

That new thought causes Laios’ mind to pause. His mission still pounds incessantly in his head, but it’s steadily being overshadowed by this new thought. The two ideas fight for dominance in his head, sporadically flipping back and forth what he’s looking for. Eventually one of them comes out on top as the other is finally pushed out of his mind.

“Must… find… Food,” Laios deeply groans as the roaring hunger in his stomach takes control of him.

With renewed effort Laios wanders and searches the town much more vigorously. Hastily looking high and low, in every nook and cranny that’d show any sign of something to eat. Eventually, a scent catches his nose’s attention. It’s faint, but Laios can vaguely tell it’s some kind of meat being cooked nearby. He desperately follows its trail, navigating his way through the town as best as he can. 

When his search brings him up to the rooftops Laios notices something in the distance. It’s hard to see through the darkness of the town, but there’s smoke rising from between a set of buildings. Now with a target Laios recklessly jumps from one building to the next. With every leap he takes his claws tear through chunks of roof tiles and any of the surrounding stone.

As Laios approaches he starts to hear noises, a mixture of shouts and screech-like cackling. When a small courtyard-like clearing comes into view Laios can now place where the noises are coming from. A flock of harpies are attacking and terrorizing a large group of adventurers. 

Starvation drives Laios’ instinct to target whatever being is closest and leap towards them. He manages to crash down on two unsuspecting harpies, crushing one of them under the weight of his front leg while he grapples another in his arms. It struggles and wails in his grasp, but Laios swiftly silences it by tearing out its throat with his teeth. Blood runs down his chin as the harpie’s body 

shallowly spasms and twitches till its limbs eventually fall limp and its eyes gloss over. Laios takes several more bites, chewing and swallowing chunks of flesh. Its flavor is unappealing but his gnawing hunger doesn’t care.

“Laios!”

A shout draws his attention from his meal on hand. Turning towards its source reveals a distraught and vaguely familiar woman calling out his name. The people directly next to her look familiar as well, though his mind can’t completely recognize who any of them are. With a quick whiff of the air the scent he’d been following earlier immediately hits him. Of that small group Laios pinpoints its source to the tray that the short shaggy-looking one is holding. There’s not much to it, just a piece of fish, a couple of rice balls and some sauces, but the scent of it is all his mind can focus on.

“Food…” Laios moans under his breath. He absentmindedly makes his way towards the alluring food, tossing the limp harpies aside as he jumps from the rooftop to the ground below. 

Before Laios can take a step forward several other adventures advance towards him with their weapons drawn. They stab and swing at him with swords and axes, leaving shallow slashes scattered across his lower body. Every hit enrages Laios, causing him to lash out with brutal force. Swinging his heavy tail around sends a couple of them flying and anyone else attacking him has their neck snapped in his grasp or head crushed under one of his feet.

A sudden onslaught of electricity causes Laios to stagger. All over his skin tingles and his muscles tighten and twitch, but he forces his body to power through it and face the magic-user that casted that spell. With his anger and frustration boiling over Laios feels a burning heat rising up within him. Following that feeling Laios takes in a big inhale before spewing a pillar of flames from his mouth. He pivots his head and spreads the flames across the courtyard, scorching everything.

After a moment, Laios’ fire starts to die down as exhaust begins to set in. Residual flames lay scattered across the ground, along with the bodies of various adventurers. The small group Laios recognized and a couple other people survived though, having shielded themselves with magic. 

With how tired and sore he felt Laios was desperate to flee from the situation, but not without that plate of food. In a last ditch effort Laios recklessly charged at the small group. As he stomps up to and over them he grabs the plate as he passes. Now with the food secured in hand Laios leaps back up to the roof. He stumbles for a moment to find his footing on the rickety tiles, but eventually he manages to steady himself and run away across the rooftops. 

Laios practically reaches the other side of the dungeon floor before he deems it a safe distance to relax and let his body rest. His lower torso slumps to the ground with a heavy thud as his legs fold into a resting position. As his breathing finally catches up with him Laios directs his attention to the plate of food he’d managed to snag. Miraculously, none of its contents were lost in his manic escape, but there’s something new he wasn’t expecting. 

Curled around the edges of the plate are a pair of stocky hands. Confused by this addition, Laios slowly raises the plate higher to reveal that the dwarf from earlier was still holding the plate. They share a surprised wide-eye look with each other, at least until Laios feels a possessive growl start to rise up in his throat. This snaps the dwarf out of his shock, causing him to finally release the plate and drop down to the ground. Before the dwarf can collect himself and run away Laios gently pins him under one of his front legs, mostly using its weight and size to keep him in place. 

Having handled that for the moment Laios redirects his focus back to the food in hand. Without hesitation he ravenously shovels every piece on the plate into his mouth. It tastes wonderful, but the satisfaction is short lived when Laios realizes how little food that was. Frustrated, he angrily tosses the plate aside as his hunger cries out again with a loud rumble.

“Are ya hungry? Is that what this is all about?” Senshi questions out loud, reminding Laios of his presence. The chimera-man leans his upper torso downward to investigate the dwarf closer. He vaguely smells the previous meal on the man, as well as several other scents that pique his interest.

“More food?” Laios curiously asks as his hands scramble over the dwarf, searching for where the smells are coming from.

“I’ve got some food in my pack, just let me up and I’ll whip up a meal for ya,” Senshi offers. 

The prospect of more delicious food immediately has Laios’ interest. He eagerly picks the dwarf up from under his foot and sets him down to let him work. Senshi proceeds to unpack his supplies, setting out the utensils he’ll need. Most of the ingredients he has on hand are leftovers from the dryads and the cockatrice, plus a few harpy eggs he managed to find earlier. After a second to think it over, Senshi decides to cook up the eggs and remaining meat and toss whatever vegetables he has left into a stew.

While Senshi busies himself with meal prep, Laios fidgets impatiently as he waits for his food to be ready. He hovers and trails behind the dwarf as he watches over everything he does. Eventually, the alluring scents of the cooking food start to put Laios at ease, encouraging the chimera-man to sit and wait.

“And it’s ready,” Senshi declares as he sets down a platter of roasted cockatrice meat next to his pan that’s filled with a vegetable stew. 

Laios almost stumbles over himself as he excitedly approaches the delectable food that’s been laid out. He scarfs down piece after piece of the seasoned meat, savoring each one’s taste before moving onto the next one. When that’s all gone Laios moves onto the stew. Lifting the entire pan towards his face and gulping down the whole thing in a matter of minutes.

With a satisfied sigh Laios lets the now empty pan clatter to the floor. His roaring hunger finally feels placated, though Laios doesn’t feel anywhere near full.

“How was that Laios? Feel better?” Senshi asks as he pats the upper portion of his front left leg.

“Hmm… good,” Laios replies with a content hum.

*Guuuurrrrgle*

“Still hungry…” he mutters when his stomach lets out a low resonating rumble.

“Well, that was most of the rations I had on hand. I had a hunch it wouldn’t be enough given your size,” Senshi comments as he cleans and packs up his supplies. “Let’s head out and gather some more to satiate that hunger of yours,” he concludes as he slings his pack over his shoulders.

Laios eagerly nods in agreement before bending his upper torso downward to grab Senshi under his arms and pick him up. He lifts the dwarf over onto his back, just in front of where his wings sprout from. When Senshi has himself securely seated Laios sets off to search the dungeon for something to eat. 

The pair wander the eerie streets for a little while till they stumble across the entrance to the next floor of the dungeon. Venturing downward leads them to a network of underground waterways and tunnels. Laios aimlessly strolls through them till his senses alert him to something nearby. 

Following the trail leads them to a very lush cavern with barometz plants scattered throughout. As Laios curiously approaches one he freezes as he notices a pack of several dire-wolves begin to lurk into view. A fight quickly ensues as the pack and Laios try to take each other down. The wolves aim their attacks at Laios’ legs and back, but his tough scales and thick skin prevent anything more than a few shallow bites and scratches. His attacks prove far better, the strength behind every swing of his tail and talons is enough to break bones and leave fatal gashes.

The battered wolves eventually retreat, leaving those too harshly wounded and the dead behind. From there Senshi and Laios round up the defeated wolves along with a few ripe barometz fruits and any wild herbs around to get a meal started. Senshi handled most of the preparations, but Laios helped where he could. 

Eventually they have several full roasts made up and ready to be eaten, which Laios eagerly dives into. While Senshi dishes and eats a plate for himself, the chimera-man scarfs down and picks clean every single roast. The dwarf feels a bit of pride and satisfaction swell up inside him as he watches someone so thoroughly enjoying his cooking.

When Laios polishes off the last of the roasts he slumps to the ground, exhausted but finally feeling full. The underbelly of his lower torso looks round and distended due to the sheer volume of food he’s packed inside. 

“There, bet that’s better,” Senshi cheerfully comments as he gently rubs the side of Laios’ lower abdomen. The soft touch feels soothing to his strained stomach, encouraging the chimera-man to doze off and peacefully rest after his excessive meal.

—-

From that point onwards the pair would continue traversing the dungeon together. They mainly stuck to the lower floors, since the mana there could best sustain Laios’ monstrous form. 

Their lives became a constant cycle. After resting for a couple of hours Laios would undoubtedly wake up famished, so he and Senshi would search and hunt down their next meal. Laios would handle any fighting required while Senshi scavenged and harvested whatever he could find. The dwarf also managed nearly all of the cooking as well with Laios helping with easier tasks or anything that may have required his greater strength.

When each meal was all set and ready Laios wouldn’t waste a second diving into it. Entire buffets worth of food would disappear in a matter of minutes down his greedy gullet. He’d completely stuff himself with everything in sight, leaving no scraps or crumbs behind. After finishing off his meal Laios would promptly fall asleep, letting his exhausted body digest the exorbitant amount of food he’d just consumed. When he next woke up they’d do it all over again. Hunt, cook, eat, sleep, repeat.

This kind of lifestyle does have its consequences though. While Laios has the size and voracious appetite of a red dragon he does not have its slower digestion and metabolism. Normally a red dragon would sleep for roughly a month between meals, but Laios has been consuming large quantities of food two to three times a day.

The changes to his upper torso were the most prominent in the beginning. His abdomen and arms become rounded and bulkier under a soft layer of fat. Laios’ lower torso and limbs experienced the same effect, though it was harder to tell at first under all that fur, scales, and feathers. 

Every self-indulgent meal would pile more weight onto the man’s monstrous frame. The belly of his lower torso quickly grew to brush against ground, even on an empty stomach. The legs surrounding it had to adopt a wider stance in order to accommodate it while the legs themselves became encumbered with their own thick layer of fat. Surprisingly, Laios’ tail became a place for fat to easily pile onto, growing overly rounded and puffy. Given the sheer weight of it Laios found it easier to let the limb just rest on the ground and be dragged behind him.

Laios’ humanoid portion also grew quite rapidly. A soft boulder-like belly developed to hang heavily from his torso. His fuzzy chest also filled out significantly, topping his prominent belly with two doughy mounds. His arms fattened up disproportionately with much more weight settling in their upper halves, greatly restricting their range of movement.

As Laios grew he had to adapt and change the way he took down other monsters. While he still had great strength he wasn’t able to use that advantage as dexterously as before. He couldn’t put as much force behind any of his strikes, but he could still crush anything he could get close to. Any sense of speed or stealth he may have had before were lost due to his greater weight. All together, his physical capabilities suffered and diminished as his weight rose and the effort to move his limbs progressively became too much for his body to bear.

Reaching the point of immobility would see Laios’ scaled underbelly spilling out from underneath him on all sides. Billowing draconic and canine legs rest flush against it with no hope of being able to lift themselves away from it under their own power. His titanic tail has broadened in size, taking on a more oblong shape as it lays motionless behind him. Bulky rings of adipose rise up into the wide doughy belly and hips of Laios’ human torso. His chest has become more shapeless and flabby, widening into his side rolls that are crushed under his equally large chunky arms. Any glimpse of a neck or jawline is hidden under a puffy ring of fat that's topped with overly chubby cheeks that force Laios’ eyes to slightly squint and his mouth to pucker.

“Hrrmph! C’mon Laios, you can do it,” Senshi encouraged as he tried to lift one of Laios’ enormous rear legs. Though the effort was obviously futile it was mainly an attempt to coax the over-encumbered chimera-man into a standing position. The prodding does motivate Laios into trying, but he doesn’t manage to raise himself more than a couple inches before his gigantic body slams back down to the ground with a resounding thud. 

“*Huff* *Huff* Too… tired,” Laios groans, exhausted at the monumental effort it took to move that little. 

*Guuuurrrrgle*

“Hungry…” Laios whines when he feels his stomach desperately cry out for food. He pitifully tries moving his body again, but only succeeds in frustratingly wobbling his soft malleable flesh.

“Ok, ok,” Senshi soothes as he comes around to Laios’ front to speak. “I’ll see what I can find nearby to try and rustle up something for ya. I’ll be right back,” he suggests as he gathers his equipment for a quick solo escapade.  

Left alone with nothing but his gnawing hunger Laios impatiently waits for his companion to return. After a while the chimera-man feels his eyes begin to grow tired and droop. Deciding to go along with it, Laios lets himself drift asleep in hopes that when he next wakes up there’ll be a delicious meal waiting for him.

—

“My, what a peculiar little morsel.” 

Laios hears a soft voice coax him awake, or rather into awareness as he feels like he’s dreaming. Opening his eyes to an empty white void, Laios is greeted to the sight of a golden-yellow lion with wings. It stands before him with an inquisitive look that feels like it goes right through Laios. The sight of another creature spurs the chimera-man with the thought of devouring it, but even here in his mind Laios feels too lethargic and weighed down to move.

“So hungry…” Laios mutters to himself with weak frustration.

“Ha, quite the gluttonous one, aren’t you?” the winged lion softly comments with a chuckle as he delicately drags one of his claws against the surface of Laios’ protruding underbelly. “Though I guess I can sympathize with that plight,” he adds with a wistful expression.

*Guuuurrrrgle*

“Need…Food…” Laios moans out loud as his hunger continues to plague him even in his dreams.

“How about this,” the lion begins, garnering Laios’ attention. “I find your situation to be very intriguing, so I’ll help you cultivate this desire of yours as best I can,” he offers.

“You’ll bring food?” Laios asks, fixated on the prospect of something to eat.

“Oh yes. Monsters of all shapes and sizes will be drawn to you, passive and ready to be devoured,” the lion pitches, dramatically emphasizing the final word. “So what do you say? Do we have a deal?” he asks with a crazed look in his eyes.

“...yes…”

—

After a couple hours of fruitless searching Senshi decides it best to make his way back to Laios.  As he retraces his path Senshi expects to find the immobile chimera-man laying in wait, but the sight he stumbles upon is more than he could’ve imagined. 

Laios himself has not moved, still anchored in place by his own titanic weight, but it's everything else around him that's a spectacle. Various kinds of monsters lay scattered around him, ranging from simple walking mushrooms to gigantic draconic beasts. Senshi cautiously winds his way through the crowd of monsters, noticing that they all appear to be alive, just in a mindless, trance-like state. 

As the dwarf approaches Laios he sees that the vines of a flowering plant have trailed themselves across the obese chimera-man’s body. Senshi briefly tests their strength before he starts using them as leverage to climb up Laios’ immense figure. As he makes his way upwards Senshi notices the flowers excessively leak an alluringly-sweet nectar from their centers. Eventually he makes it over the crest of Laios’ mountainous belly, allowing him to come face to face with the gluttonous chimera. Laios himself almost doesn’t notice the dwarf crawling up to his billowing chest, too engrossed in the mind-numbing flavor of the nectar he’s suckling from one of the vine’s flowers.

“Now what did you get up to while I was gone? Senshi inquired, slightly amused at the situation.

“Mmm… hungry,” Laios mutters a non-answer between gulps of sweet nectar.

“Ha, well, let me go whip something up for ya. I’m sure we got enough on hand,” Senshi cheekily comments as he turns to look out at the crowd of passive monsters. With that Senshi backs up and begins his descent to go get a meal started for his ever-famished companion.

---

Honestly really love this anime, the characters are great and it so easily opens itself up for weight gain and feederism. Obviously Laios and Senshi are my favorites, so don't be surprised if I do another story involving those two. I think I'd wanna make it a shorter rapid weight gain though, cause while I enjoyed writing this I will admit it feels a little lopsided with the actually fattening parts happening quick and towards the end.

Anywho, hope you all enjoyed, thank you for reading, and I hope to have another story around soon.

[lxvsiick]

THE STARS CONTINUE TO SLEEP | HAN TAESAN X READER 

[PART 2 -- VERSION 1]

PAIRING: ex! han taesan x ex! fem! reader

SUMMARY: After running into his ex, Y/n, Taesan chases after her--but what happens after crushes his heart.

GENRE: angst, exes, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 675

A/N: I AM SORRY 🙇🏻‍♀️ i’m just here to cause pain honestly 🤷🏻‍♀️ ummm ENJOY!

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `

Every step felt heavy with anticipation, each breath a mix of excitement and anxiety. He didn’t know what he’d say or what he hoped to find, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a chance he couldn’t let slip by.

Finally, he spotted her again, standing on the corner, waiting for a bus. With a deep breath, he approached, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Y/n!” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

She turned, a look of surprise crossing her face as she recognized the urgency in his voice. Her eyes widened as they met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Everything around them seemed to disappear and it was only them there. Y/n’s look of surprise turns into a smile, her sparkling eyes meeting him.

“Hi.”

“How have you been?” He asks, taking a step closer. Taesan felt like he couldn’t breathe–she was really standing in front of him.

Her expression softened, and she gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dongmin, it’s been a while. I’m doing better now. A lot better, actually.”

He could see it. She looked different—happier, healthier. There was a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there the last time they saw each other. It was like she’d shed the weight of the world that had once dragged her down, and it hurt him to realize how far away she felt now.

“I’m glad,” he managed to say, his voice low. “I’ve been... doing well too, I guess. Idol life has been busy.” He paused, his throat tightening. “But I’ve missed you. You’ve never really left my mind.”

For a moment, silence fell between them. Her eyes flickered with something—maybe surprise, maybe regret—but just as she opened her mouth to respond, a voice called from the distance.

“Y/n!” a guy’s voice echoed down the street.

Both of them turned to see a tall guy walking toward them, his expression calm but curious as he approached. Taesan felt his heart sink instantly, the pang of jealousy hitting him like a ton of bricks.

The guy reached Y/n's side, placing a casual hand on her lower back as he looked at Taesan. Taesan forced a smile, but his hands clenched slightly by his sides.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Y/n said, her voice a little softer now. She gestured between the two of them. “Dongmin, this is Minhyung, my... boyfriend.”

The words struck him harder than he’d imagined they would. His chest tightened painfully as he glanced at Minhyung, who gave him a polite nod, but there was an air of awkwardness between them.

Taesan swallowed, forcing himself to remain calm, even as the bitterness inside him twisted deeper. “Nice to meet you,” he said, offering a strained smile.

“Likewise,” Minhyung replied, his tone friendly but firm.

After a few more brief words of awkward small talk, Taesan realized he couldn’t stand there any longer. The pain was too raw, too real. With one last look at Y/n, he gave her a tight, bittersweet smile. “I should get going. It was nice seeing you again... really.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, as if she had something more to say, but all she managed was a quiet, “You too, Dongmin.”

He nodded, unable to bear it any longer. Turning on his heel, he quickly made his way back to the cafe, his chest feeling heavier with every step. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled his mask back up over his face, trying to shield himself from the world, but the growing bitterness inside him was impossible to escape.

As he entered the cafe, the sound of his members’ laughter surrounded him, but all he could think about was the image of Y/n with her new boyfriend. Even though he had tried to move on, she had never left his heart.

And now, seeing her happy—happy without him—it hurt more than he ever thought it would.

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `

PART ONE | PART TWO VER.2 | MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[thedelicatearcher]

finnick odair alphabet fluff

h - hugs

finnick odair finds peace in holding you in his arms. his heart swells with quiet joy whenever his arms are tightly wrapped around you, with his face nestled against your hair as he breathes in the familiar scent of you. with his arms wrapped around your torso, he savors the closeness of your warm body pressed against his, a rush of excitement running through his veins. finnick has always thought of you as his safe space, there’s nowhere else he feels more at peace than in your embrace. though the self-deprecating thoughts are always roaming through his mind, it’s with you that his mind grows a little quieter. 

as the next hunger games looms closer, knowing he will be forced to return to the capitol for weeks, he needs you. anxiety takes over his mind as the days go by, and he spends the days previous to the reaping battling the overwhelming urge to run away with you. 

finnick knows deep down that any attempt to leave district four in search for a better life anywhere else, even hiding and trying to live in the isolated woods, would only lead to ruin. yet, he can’t stop daydreaming about it. a quiet life far away from the capitol, finding an old abandoned cabin in the forest that it might have belonged to a rebel many years ago. he pictures a life where his only concerns would be hunting to put food on the table and keeping you safe. he dreams of how your lips would be the only ones to love on his skin, how his mind would probably be quiet if the gentle, serene sound of a river nearby joined him in his everyday, where the two of you could bathe. 

finnick has to force himself to stay grounded. he tries to be realistic and think about the harsh reality of what would happen if the capitol ever found you. he knows they would tear you apart, separating you from him, leaving him to endure months of not knowing if you’re safe, if they’re hurting you, or even if you’re still alive. he would move through each day like a lifeless shell, carrying the weight of your absence. but he can't bring himself to think about the worst scenario. tears well up in his eyes at the mere thought of them torturing you to hurt him. he accidentally spirals into panic at the idea of them cutting out your tongue, and turning you into his personal avox. a torture designed to make the strongest one crumble. that’s the only thing that keeps him from running away with you.

so, you spend the entire month before the games taking care of him. you hold him close while you lie together on the couch, whispering soothing words in his ear meant only for him. as his shaking figure clings to you with his life, your arms get tighter around him. your heart aches for him, wishing you could ease his pain, though you know it’s beyond your power. you discover that gently rubbing his back while sharing stories from your life helps him relax. his weary eyes brighten and he chuckles softly as he hears you describing how you got denied entrance to the career training academy after accidentally falling on top of one of the men in charge at the auditions. you never voice a single complaint about the weeks leading up to the games, when he needs to sleep draped over you for comfort. your fingers caress his sun-kissed cheek as the room fills with his soft  snores, ignoring the numbness in your arm pinned beneath his body.

on the day of the reaping, you wait for him at the train station, staying out of sight of the cameras that are trying to capture the tributes fearful or, on the other end of the spectrum, arrogant expressions. when he arrives, he greets you with a hug before you can finish registering in your mind that it’s him. “honey,” his shaky voice captures your ears. even though he is taller than you, he leans down to be completely enveloped by your arms like a cocoon. finnick immediately begins to ramble about his concerns for the tributes, worried that one of them might actually have a chance to win. he buries his face in your neck, seeking for your sweet scent to calm him down. when the train speaker announces that departure is imminent, he holds you tighter. out of habit, you cup his face in your hands and rest your forehead against his as you always do in private. “i’ve got you, honey. just come back to me,” you whisper softly, wishing you could go with him. “i love you so much,” he breathes out in reply, his hands tightening around you as if reluctant to let go. “don’t take any risks while i’m gone,” he rambles, anxious about what could happen in his absence.you let him give you his instructions, even though most of them are obvious, knowing he won’t be at ease until he’s said them all. finally, he pulls away, giving you a soft but desperate kiss before boarding the train. your only wish is for him to come back to your arms.

[novaursa]

The Price of Fire (17)

- Summary: In the shadows of the Red Keep, the daughter of the Mad King, Princess Y/N Targaryen, finds herself caught between duty, love, and survival. As her father’s madness deepens and political intrigue swirls, she seeks solace in a forbidden romance with her sworn protector, Ser Arthur Dayne. With King Aerys plotting to use her as a pawn and her brother Rhaegar maneuvering to shield her from their father’s grasp, Y/N must navigate a web of deceit and desire. As tensions rise, secrets ignite into fierce passion and dangerous alliances, where the wrong move could mean the end of them all.

- Paring: targ!reader/Arthur Dayne

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Previous part: 16

- Next part: 18

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @lightdragonrayne @onlyrealjoy @hajmola-vs-aamchaska

The wind tore at your hair and clothes as Terrax flew through the night sky, the stars above a blur of distant light as the dragon carried you farther from familiar ground. Your hands, slick with blood from your wounds, trembled as you gripped Terrax's spine, the jagged edges of his scales digging deeper into your flesh with each passing moment. The sharp sting had become a dull throb now, but the pain was constant, a reminder of the unnatural bond you shared with the creature beneath you.

The air was cold, biting at your skin, and though the world below you seemed vast and endless, you were beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion creeping in. The blood loss had sapped your strength, making each breath more difficult than the last. You pressed your forehead against Terrax’s warm scales, your vision blurring as you fought to stay conscious. The dragon’s massive wings beat steadily, each stroke carrying you farther from safety, farther from Starfall, and closer to some unknown destination.

"Broken wings, falling stars, mother sings, father scars."

The voice in your mind was louder now, more insistent, its disjointed phrases swirling like a storm. Terrax’s thoughts were bleeding into yours, the fragmented remnants of the dark magic that had brought him into the world. You could feel the chaos in his mind, the way his thoughts twisted and tangled, a reflection of the madness that had been bound to him in the ritual.

"Fire burns, blood flows, mother weeps, father knows."

"Terrax," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the howling wind. "Please... take me back. I need to go back to Starfall."

But the dragon did not respond. His golden eyes were fixed ahead, his massive wings carrying you farther into the unknown. He was driven by something beyond your understanding, something that had brought him to these unorthodox places, far from the comfort of home. You had already flown past the ruins of Meraxes, and now, as the land shifted beneath you, the terrain below became more desolate, more barren.

Your head swam, the dizziness growing stronger as your blood continued to seep from the wounds Terrax’s scales had inflicted. The cold was seeping into your bones now, making it harder to think, harder to hold on. You clung to Terrax, your grip weakening with every passing moment.

"Terrax..." you murmured again, your words slurring as the world spun around you. "Please... take me back..."

The dragon’s thoughts continued to whisper in your mind, fractured and unhinged.

"Mother cries, father burns, all the world returns."

"Grave is near, fire is here, blood is clear, nothing to fear."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the madness of his thoughts, but the connection between you and Terrax had grown too strong. It was as if the dragon’s mind had become entangled with your own, a reflection of the dark magic that had bound you together.

You tried again, desperation filling your voice. "Terrax, please. I need to go back."

For a moment, there was silence. Terrax’s wings continued to beat, but the chaotic swirl of his thoughts seemed to quiet, as though he had finally heard you. The dragon’s massive body shifted slightly beneath you, and you felt the subtle change in his flight path as he turned, angling his wings toward the direction of Starfall.

Relief flooded through you, but it was short-lived. The exhaustion from blood loss was catching up to you, and your vision blurred once more, the edges of the world fading into darkness. You clung to consciousness, but it was slipping away, your strength ebbing with each passing second.

"Mother sleeps, father weeps, the blood runs deep."

The voice in your mind echoed one final time before the world went black, and you felt yourself slipping away into the darkness, your body limp against Terrax’s warm scales as he carried you back toward Starfall.

You could only hope that you would survive the journey.

You woke slowly, the haze of unconsciousness lifting like a fog, but with it came the dull ache of your body, the raw sting of wounds that still hadn't fully healed. The unfamiliar scent of spices and sea salt hung in the air, and the warmth of the room felt too dry, too hot. You blinked, trying to focus as the room swam into view. This wasn’t Starfall.

The bed beneath you was soft, covered in richly woven blankets, but the architecture around you was distinctly Dornish—the arched windows open to the breeze, the light sandstone walls, the distant sound of the sea crashing against the shores. You were in Sunspear.

Confusion rippled through you, your heart pounding as the memories of the last hours—or had it been days?—flooded back. Terrax had taken you, carried you through the night sky, ignoring your pleas to return to Starfall. You had fainted, your blood loss too much to bear. But now you were here. How had Terrax brought you to Sunspear?

Before you could make sense of it all, the door to the room creaked open, and a familiar figure entered with a graceful stride.

"Ah, you’re awake at last," Ellaria Sand said, her voice carrying a soft note of amusement as she stepped closer. Her dark, sun-kissed skin seemed to glow in the warm light of the room, and her dark curls fell loosely around her shoulders. She wore the loose, flowing silks of Dorne, and her expression, though friendly, held a hint of curiosity.

You tried to sit up, but the effort made you dizzy. Ellaria quickly came to your side, her hand gently pressing you back against the pillows. "Take it easy. You’ve been through quite an ordeal, my dear. It’s good to see you finally awake."

Your mind spun, the weight of your confusion and worry pressing down on you. "What… what happened? How did I get here?" you asked, your voice still weak and hoarse.

Ellaria smiled faintly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Your dragon brought you here," she said with a slight chuckle. "He gave us quite a bit of trouble when he arrived. Terrax isn’t exactly subtle when he decides to land in the middle of Sunspear. You were unconscious when we found you, and it took a great deal of effort to calm him down. He didn’t seem too pleased with anyone touching you."

You blinked, the memories coming back in fragments—Terrax’s wild flight, the pain, the disjointed thoughts that had filled your mind. The dragon had brought you here, to Sunspear, but why?

Your heart suddenly clenched with fear as your hand flew to your abdomen. "The babe," you gasped, your voice laced with panic. "My child—"

Ellaria's expression softened as she placed a calming hand over yours. "Your child is fine," she reassured you, her voice soothing. "Don’t worry. You’ve lost a lot of blood, but the babe is unharmed. The healers checked on you as soon as you arrived. You’ll need time to recover, but you and your little one are safe."

The rush of relief that flooded you was almost overwhelming. You sank back against the pillows, closing your eyes for a moment as the worry drained from your body. The weight of that fear had been unbearable, but knowing your child was safe—knowing that despite everything, they were still with you—was enough to soothe your racing heart.

"And Arthur?" you asked softly, opening your eyes to meet Ellaria’s gaze.

She smiled warmly, her tone reassuring. "Word has been sent to him. He’ll be relieved to know you’re safe, I’m sure. He’s probably already riding this way. It’s not every day a knight finds out his lady has been flown to Sunspear by a dragon."

You let out a weak, breathless laugh, though the exhaustion still clung to you. Arthur. You knew he would come, but you hated to imagine the fear he must have felt when Terrax took you from Starfall. The bond between the two of you had always been strong, but now, with the child growing inside you, you could feel his presence with every beat of your heart. He would come. Of course, he would.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

Ellaria tilted her head, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. "There’s no need to thank me. You’ve brought a bit of excitement to Sunspear. Besides, it's not every day we have a dragon princess among us." Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Just promise me you’ll keep that beast of yours under control next time. We had quite the spectacle when he landed."

You managed a small smile, though your body still felt weak, the lingering pain a reminder of just how much you had endured. "I’ll do my best," you murmured. "But Terrax has a mind of his own."

Ellaria chuckled softly, her fingers brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as she stood. "Rest now. You need your strength. Arthur will be here soon enough, and we’ll make sure you’re well taken care of in the meantime."

As she moved toward the door, you closed your eyes, the exhaustion finally pulling you back into a fitful sleep. But even in your dreams, the voice of Terrax still echoed in your mind, the disjointed words flickering like flames in the distance.

You sat near the open windows of your chamber in Sunspear, gazing out at the endless horizon. The sea beyond shimmered in the midday sun, and though the warmth was comforting, your thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the events that had unfolded in the last few weeks. Terrax’s unpredictable behavior, the constant threat looming over your house, and the uncertainty of what the future held had left you feeling like a ship without a course.

A soft knock echoed from the door, and before you could respond, it swung open with a sudden force. You turned, startled, just as Rhaegar strode into the room, his silver hair catching the sunlight. Without hesitation, he rushed toward you, his arms open. The sight of him—your brother—flooded you with a wave of emotions, and before you knew it, you were on your feet, rushing to meet him halfway.

“Rhaegar!” you breathed, your voice catching in your throat as he wrapped you in a fierce embrace. It had been many moons since you had last seen him—since you had fled the chaos of King’s Landing—and now, here he was, holding you like he had feared he might never see you again.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Rhaegar whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you, his voice thick with relief. He pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cup your face, his violet eyes scanning your features as if searching for any sign of harm. “Are you all right? I’ve been so worried...”

You nodded, your hands resting on his arms as you gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Rhaegar. Terrax brought me here, but I’m safe. I’m safe now.” You reached up, resting your hand over his as he continued to study your face, his brow furrowed with concern.

He sighed softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “So many things could have happened, and I wasn’t there.” He shook his head, his gaze still lingering on you as though trying to memorize every detail. “When I heard you were here in Sunspear, I had to come. I couldn’t stay away.”

You smiled again, though the tension in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “What are you doing here, Rhaegar?” you asked softly. “I didn’t expect you to come to Dorne.”

He released your face, stepping back slightly but still holding your hand. His expression darkened, and you could see the weight of the world on his shoulders, the burden of the rebellion and everything it had torn apart. “Most of the men who followed me have now joined Robert Baratheon,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration. “He intends to remove our House from the throne—completely. All of us.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The thought of your entire family being wiped out, the Targaryen legacy erased, was unbearable. “All of us?” you whispered.

Rhaegar nodded, his jaw tight. “Every last one. He won’t stop until there is nothing left of House Targaryen.” His gaze flickered, darkened by the weight of the news. “That’s why I came here. Dorne offers support.”

Something in his eyes, something unreadable, caught your attention, and you frowned, stepping closer to him. “There’s more, isn’t there?” you asked, your voice soft but firm. You knew your brother too well to miss the unspoken tension in his posture, the way his eyes shifted slightly as if he was holding something back.

Rhaegar’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “They want something in return for their help,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you swallowed hard. “What is it?”

He looked away for a moment, his gaze distant as if he was struggling with the words. When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with frustration and sorrow. “They want me to marry Elia,” he said, the name hanging heavily in the air between you. “Like it was planned, before Aerys refused.”

A silence fell over the room, the warmth of the sun suddenly feeling oppressive. You knew the marriage had been arranged long ago, and that Dorne had always wanted the union between the two great houses. But hearing it now, in the middle of this war, with everything that had happened—it felt like a betrayal.

Rhaegar turned back to you, his eyes filled with both defiance and tenderness. “But I won’t do it,” he whispered, his hands reaching out to take yours. “My betrothal to you still stands. You and I are the last of our line. We have to stay together.”

Your heart raced, but you couldn’t ignore the implications of his refusal. “And what about the support from Dorne?” you asked quietly. “If you don’t marry Elia, will they still help us?”

Rhaegar looked conflicted, his gaze shifting as though weighing a decision he had already made. Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I’m still in contact with Varys. The Spider has promised to take us away—both of us, and Mother. To Essos, where we’ll be safe. Away from Robert’s reach.”

“Essos?” you murmured, the word foreign and distant. The idea of leaving Westeros, leaving everything behind, was both tempting and terrifying. But the thought of leaving without Arthur—without the man you loved—was unbearable.

“I won’t go without Arthur,” you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Rhaegar’s face softened with understanding, his hand squeezing yours gently. “I know,” he said. “We’ll find a way. But we may not have a choice. The war is coming, and we have to survive, no matter the cost.”

The thought of leaving everything behind, abandoning the fight for the throne, and fleeing to a foreign land filled you with a strange mix of hope and fear. 

But the shadows of the war loomed ever closer, and in the distance, you could still hear the whispers of dragonfire, calling you back to the flames.

The warmth of the Dornish sun bathed the stone walls of Sunspear as Rhaegar and Oberyn led you through the winding halls toward the courtyard. The breeze carried the scent of citrus and spices, and though you had been recovering from your wounds, the fresh air felt invigorating after the days spent resting indoors. Rhaegar walked at your side, his arm lightly supporting you as you moved carefully, still feeling the dull ache of the gashes Terrax's scales had inflicted. Oberyn walked just ahead, his usual swagger tempered by the seriousness of the moment.

As they guided you to the courtyard, the sound of rustling wings and agitated growls reached your ears. Terrax was there, his massive form restless as he paced, his golden eyes gleaming with a wildness that had only grown since his unpredictable flight. The dragon's agitation was visible, his claws scraping against the stone floor as his tail lashed behind him.

You swallowed, your heart tightening with a mix of affection and apprehension as you looked at him. Terrax was a creature of raw power, bound to you in ways you still didn’t fully understand, but today there was something different in the air.

"Don’t worry," Rhaegar said softly, his voice calming as he glanced at you. "He knows you're here. He’ll settle."

Oberyn smirked from just ahead, his usual devil-may-care attitude on full display. "Though I’d keep my distance while we fit him with what we’ve made. Dragons have a temper, and I’d hate for him to take it out on the wrong person."

You gave a small smile at Oberyn’s jest, though the thought of Terrax’s growing restlessness did nothing to ease the tension in your chest. As you approached the courtyard, you finally saw what Rhaegar had brought you here to see.

In the center of the courtyard, laid across a low stone bench, was a saddle—no, the saddle, the one Rhaegar had been working on with the help of Sunspear’s leatherworkers. It was unlike any saddle you had seen before, clearly designed with the unique needs of a dragon in mind. The intricate leatherwork, the reinforced straps, and the careful stitching were all signs of skilled craftsmanship, but what made it truly remarkable was its size and shape. It had been built to fit the ridges of Terrax's back, the design functional yet elegant in a way that suggested both utility and royalty.

Rhaegar gestured toward the saddle, a slight smile on his face as he glanced at you. "I found some old writings about saddle designs in books on the Conquest here in Sunspear’s library," he explained, his voice filled with pride and warmth. "Saddles like this were used by our ancestors during Aegon’s conquest. They were meant to help dragonriders better control their mounts during battle. I thought it might help with Terrax, especially after what happened."

You blinked, momentarily speechless as you took in the sight. The saddle was more than just a tool—it was a symbol of your bond with Terrax, a connection that ran deeper than blood, deeper than even your heritage. Rhaegar had gone to such lengths to make this for you, to ensure your safety and strengthen your bond with the dragon. It was humbling.

"Rhaegar..." you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. "You did all this?"

He smiled, the faintest hint of pride in his eyes. "For you. And for Terrax. I know how much he means to you—and what he represents for all of us."

Oberyn grinned, his hands resting on his hips as he looked between the two of you. "It wasn’t easy, I’ll admit. Getting a dragon to stay still long enough to measure him for a saddle? Quite the challenge. But we managed. Somehow."

Your gaze shifted back to Terrax, who was still pacing restlessly in the courtyard, his wings twitching slightly as if he could sense the attention on him. There was an air of unpredictability about him today, a wildness that made your stomach churn. But you had to trust that the saddle would make a difference—that it would allow you to ride him without the pain and danger that had come before.

Rhaegar stepped closer to the saddle, motioning to the leatherworkers who had been waiting nearby. "We’ll put it on him now. You’ll see how it fits." His voice was steady, but you could see the tension in his posture. Terrax was not an easy dragon to handle, especially when agitated.

The leatherworkers moved with caution as they approached Terrax, the saddle held carefully between them. The dragon’s eyes tracked their every movement, his golden gaze sharp and unblinking. His massive tail swayed behind him, the muscles in his body coiled with barely contained energy.

You held your breath as they moved closer to him, murmuring soothing words to calm him, though you weren’t sure if Terrax even heard them. Rhaegar watched closely, ready to step in if needed, but his focus remained on you, watching your reaction, ensuring you were comfortable.

Terrax let out a low growl, his wings flaring slightly as the leatherworkers lifted the saddle toward his back. But he did not lash out—did not burn them with fire or snap his jaws at their hands. Instead, he allowed them to fit the saddle over the ridges of his spine, though his body remained tense, his muscles twitching beneath the leather straps as they fastened them securely.

The saddle fit perfectly, its shape and size molded to Terrax’s form in a way that seemed almost natural. You could see the relief in Rhaegar’s eyes as the last strap was secured, and Terrax settled slightly, his wings folding against his body. The dragon’s agitation had not fully faded, but he was calmer now, his gaze shifting to you as if waiting for your next move.

"It’s done," Rhaegar said softly, turning to you with a small smile. "The saddle should make things easier for you. You won’t have to worry about his scales cutting into you anymore."

You took a step forward, your heart pounding as you approached Terrax, your hand brushing gently against his warm scales. The saddle felt sturdy beneath your touch, the leather smooth and well-crafted. You glanced back at Rhaegar, gratitude shining in your eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the wind.

He gave you a gentle smile in return. "You’ve always had a special connection with Terrax. I just wanted to make sure you could keep riding him—without getting hurt."

Oberyn chuckled from behind you, his tone light. "It’s not every day you see a dragon tamed—or saddled. I must admit, I didn’t think we’d pull it off."

You turned to face them both, a smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering soreness in your body. "I’m grateful. To both of you."

And as you looked back at Terrax, now fitted with the saddle that would help you ride him without fear.

The air in the Water Gardens was warm. You sat on a stone bench near the edge of a shallow pool, the cool water reflecting the bright Dornish sun. The sound of children laughing in the distance, running and playing under the watchful eye of attendants, was a soothing backdrop to the quiet conversation shared between you, Ellaria, and Elia.

Your hands rested on the small, but unmistakable swell of your abdomen, a sign of the life growing inside you. The soft fabric of your gown flowed around you, the heat of the sun tempered by the shade of the lush green trees that lined the gardens. You felt more at ease here, far from the chaos of the rebellion and the constant threats that loomed over your house. Yet, the lingering weight of your recent ordeal still clung to your thoughts.

Ellaria sat beside you, her dark eyes sparkling with their usual mischief, though her tone was soft today. "You seem to be healing well," she said with a gentle smile, her gaze drifting down to your stomach. "And the babe? No more complications?"

You gave a small, contented nod, your fingers tracing the slight curve of your belly. "No, everything is as it should be," you replied softly. "The healers say I’m making a good recovery." Your voice wavered slightly as you spoke, still overwhelmed by everything that had happened.

Elia, sitting across from you, her delicate features shadowed with a quiet concern, nodded in agreement. "It’s good to see you outside again. Sunspear has done wonders for you, princess," she said gently, though her eyes lingered on your abdomen with an expression that spoke of her own unspoken worries.

You smiled at both women, appreciating their company more than words could express, but before you could continue, the sound of hurried footsteps caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned toward the entrance of the gardens, where a familiar figure was striding through the arched doorway.

Arthur.

Your breath caught in your throat as you saw him, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His face was drawn with worry, but the moment he spotted you sitting safely by the pool, his expression softened with overwhelming relief. Without hesitation, he moved toward you, his long strides urgent, yet careful.

Ellaria glanced between you and Arthur with a knowing smile, her hand resting lightly on Elia’s arm. "Perhaps we should leave you two alone," she murmured, rising gracefully from the bench. Elia followed suit, offering you a small, reassuring smile before they both stepped away, giving you the space you needed.

Arthur rushed toward you as soon as they were out of earshot, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. He knelt beside you, his hands immediately reaching for yours, his touch warm and trembling with barely restrained emotion. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice hoarse with relief. "Thank the gods… I was so worried."

You smiled weakly, your own hands gripping his tightly as your heart swelled with love and relief at seeing him. "Arthur," you breathed, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. "I’m here. I’m all right."

He stared at you for a long moment, his violet eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and anguish. His fingers trailed down to your abdomen, where the gentle curve of your stomach pressed against your gown. His hand rested there, his thumb brushing over the fabric as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

"The child?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

You nodded, placing your hand over his. "Safe," you whispered. "Our child is safe."

Arthur exhaled shakily, his head lowering as he pressed his forehead against your stomach, his hands cupping your belly with such reverence that it made your heart ache. "I thought I’d lost you both," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "When Terrax took you… I didn’t know if I’d see you again."

You gently stroked his hair, your fingers running through the familiar strands as you tried to calm him. "We’re here, Arthur," you said softly. "I’m not going anywhere. I promise."

For a moment, the two of you remained like that, the world around you fading into the background. The distant sounds of the gardens, the soft trickling of water, all seemed to blur as you held onto each other, your bond unspoken but unbreakable.

Arthur lifted his head after a moment, his eyes still shining with unshed tears. He leaned forward and kissed you, his lips soft and urgent against yours. It was a kiss filled with longing, with relief, with the promise of everything that was still to come. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still gently cradling your abdomen.

"I won’t let anything happen to you or the babe," he whispered, his voice fierce with determination. "No matter what comes, I’ll protect you. Both of you."

You nodded, your own heart echoing the promise in his words. 

And hope was enough. For now.

The sky was overcast as Rhaegar and Oberyn rode out, the distant mountains casting long shadows over the barren borderlands where Dorne met the Reach. Behind them, the Dornish army stretched in disciplined rows, the sun-and-spear banners of House Martell flapping in the wind. The sound of hooves on dry, cracked earth was a steady rhythm, but the tension in the air was palpable. Ahead, King Aerys and his army were approaching, their banners dark and foreboding. It was a rare thing for Aerys to leave King’s Landing, especially at such risk, but his obsession with your whereabouts had driven him to the edge of reason.

Rhaegar’s face was drawn, his jaw set as he rode in silence beside Oberyn. His thoughts were dark, his heart heavy with the knowledge of the confrontation ahead. It was no longer just a matter of rebellion or loyalty. His father’s madness had spiraled into something dangerous, and Aerys’s fixation on you—on his own daughter—had only grown with each passing moon. The rumors had spread fast, whispers that you were with child, whispers that Aerys was determined to have you and the babe for his own twisted purposes.

Oberyn glanced at Rhaegar, his expression unreadable, but the flicker of amusement in his eyes was unmistakable. "Your father has lost what little remains of his sanity," Oberyn said dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. "And now we meet him here, on the brink of war, while Robert Baratheon likely marches on King’s Landing. Madness has never been so well-timed."

Rhaegar said nothing, though the truth of Oberyn’s words gnawed at him. By leaving the capital exposed, Aerys had all but invited Robert’s forces to strike. But that was the price of his father’s obsession. Aerys cared for nothing now except you and the child he believed was Rhaegar’s.

As they crested a low hill, Rhaegar spotted Aerys’s forces—thousands strong, their black and red banners stark against the gray sky. At the front of the formation, Aerys sat on his horse, his silver hair wild in the wind, his eyes burning with manic energy. His presence was unmistakable, a figure of chaos, dressed in dark armor that gleamed with the reflection of wildfire in his gaze. Even from a distance, Rhaegar could see the twitch of his father’s lips, the erratic movements that betrayed his instability.

The two forces halted, and a tense silence followed, the wind whipping between them as Rhaegar and Oberyn rode out to meet Aerys, the armies watching from a distance.

As they drew closer, Aerys’s gaze locked on Rhaegar, ignoring Oberyn entirely. His lips curled into a sneer, and his voice cracked as he spoke. "Where is she?" Aerys demanded, his tone sharp, biting. "Where is my daughter? Where is Y/N?"

Rhaegar met his father’s wild gaze without flinching. He had known this question was coming. "She is safe, away from you," he replied, his voice steady, but there was an edge of defiance in his words. "You will not have her, Father."

Aerys’s expression twisted into one of rage, his hands gripping the reins of his horse tightly, knuckles white. "You dare defy me? You—who stole her away from me?!" His voice grew shrill, his eyes wide and gleaming with madness. "She belongs to me, and you will bring her to me, or I will burn the world to ash!"

Oberyn, sitting astride his horse beside Rhaegar, looked utterly unbothered, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He watched Aerys with a kind of amused detachment, though he made no effort to intervene. The Dornish prince seemed content to let the mad king rant, his dark eyes glimmering with quiet amusement at the scene unfolding before him.

But Aerys ignored Oberyn entirely, his fury focused solely on Rhaegar. "And I’ve heard whispers, rumors," Aerys hissed, his voice lowering but no less venomous. "That my daughter is with child. Is it true?"

Rhaegar’s heart clenched at the question, though he had prepared for this moment. He knew what Aerys wanted to hear, what madness would drive him further into obsession. With a calm he barely felt, Rhaegar met his father’s gaze and lied without hesitation. "Yes," he said, his voice firm. "She is with child."

Aerys’s eyes blazed with manic excitement, but before he could speak, Rhaegar continued, his tone cold and final. "But the child is mine. You will not touch her, and you will not touch our babe. You will never see them."

The words hung in the air, heavy with defiance, and Aerys’s face contorted in a mixture of shock and fury. "Lies!" he shrieked, his voice cracking. "You dare claim what is mine?! You would steal from your own father—your king?! I will burn you, Rhaegar. I will burn you and that bastard child in her womb!"

Rhaegar remained calm, his expression hardening. He had expected this, but the depth of Aerys’s madness still sent a chill through him. "You will not touch them," Rhaegar repeated, his voice low and filled with quiet menace. "No matter what you do, you will never have them."

Aerys’s fury boiled over, his whole body trembling with rage. "I’ll see you dead!" he screamed, his voice echoing across the battlefield. "You and all your traitors—burned in dragonfire!"

Oberyn finally spoke, his voice calm but mocking, his amusement at Aerys’s tirade evident. "You may want to rethink your strategy, Your Grace," Oberyn drawled, leaning slightly in his saddle. "You’ve left your capital wide open for Robert’s men. While you chase after your daughter, King’s Landing may not be so forgiving of your absence."

Aerys turned his wild gaze on Oberyn, his eyes narrowing in hatred. But he said nothing, as if the words of the Dornish prince were beneath him. His obsession with you had consumed him to the point where the fate of the capital, of the Iron Throne itself, no longer mattered.

"Enough!" Aerys barked, his voice ragged. He turned back to Rhaegar, his face twisted in fury. "I will have her, Rhaegar. One way or another, I will have her. And if you stand in my way, I will see you burn."

Rhaegar’s eyes met his father’s, filled with a quiet, unyielding resolve. "You will never touch her, Father," he said once more. "No matter what you do."

Aerys’s expression twisted, and for a moment, his hands shook on the reins of his horse, his entire body trembling with the force of his rage. But then, without another word, he yanked the reins and turned his horse around, riding back toward his army in silence.

Rhaegar remained still, watching his father retreat, knowing that this was far from over. The mad king’s obsession had only deepened, and there was no telling what he might do next.

Oberyn let out a low, amused chuckle, his eyes glinting with mischief as he turned to Rhaegar. "Well, that went about as well as expected," he said with a smirk. "Though I must admit, I was hoping for more wildfire."

Rhaegar gave him a small, grim smile, though the weight of the encounter still lingered. "It’s not over," he said softly. "Not yet."

[typicalopposite]

Thanks @priincebutt for the tag 🫶

slowly making my way through chapter 7! 🫠 sorry this has become my whole personality lately 😂 this is my main fic at the moment!

“Kinard!” Captain Collier calls from his office, nearly causing Tommy to drop the laptop he has meticulously balanced on his (extremely, dreadfully, embarrassingly) large belly. He has long since been able to comfortably do anything at his desk— the bump getting in the way, and sitting at an angle hurts his constantly aching back— so he has been using the bump instead… God knows it sticks out far enough anyway. He lifts the laptop off, and sets it on the table; crumbs from the bag of chips he was eating topple from his shirt to the floor when he stands. He frowns at the mess and grabs the broom he keeps close by (this happens often) and sweeps them into a pile. “Tommy?” Collier repeats softer this time, poking his head out of his office. 

“Uh, come— coming Cap!” He tries in vain to bend and reach the dustpan. He holds on to the desk for support but he feels like he’s going to tumble forward every time he starts to lower himself. Then he sits back down and tries again… still with no success; he even tries to flip it onto the broom and balance it up to the desk.

“Let me,” Collier says, now beside him. He takes the broom then bends down and sweeps the crumbs into the dustpan. After he throws the crumbs away he straightens back up and sits on the edge of Tommy’s desk. “Tommy…” he says again, and just from the look on his face, Tommy already knows what he’s about to say. “Listen. I know you want to work up until you deliver, but I really think it’s time.” Tommy can feel his mouth pulling down and Collier sighs.  “Hey… come on, don’t do that.” 

Tommy is trying desperately not to humiliate himself by ‘doing that’— i.e. crying— but it has gotten so much harder lately. He feels huge, and heavy, and tired, and sore all the time! All that meshes together and has made him somehow even more emotional. 

“What did you do to him, Cap!?” Lucy gasps, walking into the hanger. 

Collier sucks at his teeth and pushes off the desk. “I didn’t do anything but suggest he make these last weeks easier on himself.” 

“Well,” Lucy says… more so to Tommy. 

“Not you too, Luce?!” Tommy feels his pout deepen. 

Lucy laughs, and comes up behind him, squeezing and massaging his shoulders before wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t get me wrong, work will suck without you, and I am going to miss you so much; I don’t want you to leave…” she says. “I just want you to get some rest… you know the whole cliche you better sleep while you can because you won’t once baby is here— except you’re gonna have two babies keeping you up, and I honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve come to work and not looked exhausted… you’re overdue for some rest.”

Tommy would argue, except he knows he can’t; she’s right. The twins are growing beautifully, which makes him so happy and relieved… and massive, and miserable. He isn’t upset at the weight he’s gained, he is confident in himself enough to know he can lose it once they're born (and honestly even if he doesn’t lose a single pound, he is so happy both babies are healthy and thriving he wouldn’t care). However, he’s not been allowed to lift above his head since he announced the pregnancy, and getting something from lower than his waist at this point is damn near impossible. Lacey says he shouldn’t be carrying anything more than 15 pounds; and between the twins using his bladder and his lower spine for kickboxing practice, he is either in the bathroom or pacing the hanger trying to ease the back pain. 

He’s exhausted from the lack of sleep the pain is causing, and he needs help doing pretty much anything that’s not sitting and typing, and that is not something they even need him at the station to do. Collier has been trying to convince him to work from home for a couple months… Tommy’s just— Hell even he’s not a hundred percent sure why he’s holding on to working for so long… He looks past Collier and Lucy at the helicopter’s, and he can’t even fly at the moment, but it’s been nice being near them. Watching them take off, watching them come back… he misses it. He’s going to miss this, and his team. “You’re probably right…” he finally admits. “I guess I should take advantage of the last few weeks of calm.” 

Lucy smiles, and hugs him. “Good for you; you have more than earned a break,” she says squeezing him. “I’m gonna miss you, Kinard.” 

“I’ll miss you too, Luce,” he replies, voice soft and shaky. 

“Hey,” she says, pulling back to wipe the tears that are starting to fall from both their eyes. “This is not a forever goodbye, okay? I am going to come by and get my baby fix every day I have off… you’re gonna be so tired of me!” 

“Never,” he laughs.

Tagging: @onthewaytosomewhere @30somethingautisticteacher @judymarch15 @nine-one-wanton

@bidisasterevankinard @kinardsevan @somethingaboutfirefly @bucksxkinard @mmso-notlikethat

@sunnywithachanceofbi @herrmannhalsteadproduction @marvelousbuckley

And anyone else who wants to share their writing 🫶🫶

[starryeyedcas]

Every Destiel Fic I’ve Ever Read [WIP]

Let’s do it! I took this list directly from my twitter

I’m not really going to post my ratings and stuff and I’m not going to copy what I said verbatim because as I grow older my opinions always change and every fic deserves love regardless of what some stranger on the internet thinks! Check these out if you need something new to read :)

Also, side note: A lot of the fics I tend to read are either non-canon or pre S10. If your looking for canon type, recent fics this will not be a list for you and I apologize :(

Also pt. 2: Some of the fics that I have listed on my twitter are no longer available so I have decided to not list them here. It’s very sad because there were some really good ones! Regardless, I’m still trying to keep this list as up to date as I possibly can when it comes to my reading ventures. Either way, I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I do <3

1. NINETY ONE WHISKEY

By komodobits, 401,193 words (not counting other fics in the series)

Please, please, please! Read this if you haven’t yet!! It’s a slow burn, World War II based fic and it’s my absolute favorite fic of all time. In fact I think it may be my favorite story of all time!! I come back to this fic always. If I’m sad, I read it. If I’m happy, I read it. I’ve read it probably 4 or 5 times at this point and it always holds up. I will say though, IT WILL MAKE YOU CRY. Dean and Cas are written VERY well, in fact every character in this fic are written to perfection. You find yourself growing attachments to side characters that you may have even forgotten existed in the show. I seriously cannot recommend this one enough. You will not regret it.

2. A BRIEF GLIMPSE

By cloudyjenn, 12,356 words

I’ll be honest, this one is special for me. This was the very first Destiel fic I ever read back in 2014. That being said, I may be a little biased towards it but I do genuinely think that it’s very cute. It’s a Slice-of-Life esque story with light supernatural happenings; where Castiel is in high school and has a very big crush on his best friend, Sam Winchester. Things start to go awry when Sam invites Cas to a carnival. I won’t spoil too much though! If you want a quick read with some fluff, definitely read this one.

3. SMELLS LIKE ROSES

By unknown :(, 53,828 words

Uhoh! A Djinn fic! I remember this one just hurting me so much. Dean is living his dream life. Everything around him is perfect and he’s mysteriously very happy. When you get to the end of this fic, holy cow the heartbreak. It’s written very well, you obviously can’t go wrong with a fic that slightly follows canon. I really like this one and I might reread it again soon but I cannot stress enough how much it hurts! Stay safe out there.

4. NOT ALL THE WAY THROUGH

By Tracy, around 4,700 words

Shorter fic based around s5 episodes 3 and 4. This one is good but it’s also very painful. I think I like fics that hurt me lol. There are some warnings I want to state! This fic features substance abuse, non con, mentions of torture and A CHARACTER DEATH so please be careful! This is told through Castiel’s perspective and all the summary says is “Castiel’s new life begins and ends with Dean.” So I will leave it at that. (Also as a side note whenever I think of this fic I think of the song ‘And So it Goes’ by Billy Joel. Listen to that while reading and you are sure to shed some tears. Stay safe friends xx)

5. PAINTED ANGELS

By WinnJennster, 105,637 words

This one used to be really popular, so it’s likely many of you have already read it. Either way I will still recommend it. It’s a nice little “reunited” type fic in which Cas is an author and Dean is a painter. I will say, however, that the angst in this fic is HEAVY. Personally, I’m not huge into giant angsty fics like this, or maybe the type of angst portrayed in this one. I just remember feeling a little frustrated by it. YET, this fic has a lot of good memorable moments with some fluff sprinkled throughout. If you love angst, this is the fic for you. WARNING though, you need an AO3 account to read this fic. If you’re not already logged in, you’re out of luck.

6. TWIST AND SHOUT

By Gabriel and standbyme, 97,556 words

Who are we kidding?? Everyone on this website KNOWS this fic. You all could probably recount it backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down. Who knows. All we know is that this fic is a capital S-A-D. When I was in high school, I LOVED this fic. I adored it, no matter how much it made me cry. Because YES there is a MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. And NO it’s not FUN. Can I be honest? After rereading it, I feel as if Cas and Dean are out of character! Doesn’t mean it’s a bad story, absolutely not. It’s beautiful! I think it’s wonderful and obviously I recommend it. But you could change the names of the boys and you wouldn’t even know its based off two characters from Supernatural. This is my hill and I will gladly die on it. Read it if you dare, but remember to beware OOooOOoooOo (another side note: I had to go to the fic to get the link for this post and I swear to God my eyes watered when I read that first sentence. I HATE and I LOVE this fic all at the same time.)

7. SMOKE IN THE MIRROR

By letters_of_stars, 52,327 words

Oh shoot! Dean is an artist and he needs a nude model!! Who do you think is gonna take the bait?!?! In all seriousness though, I really adore this one. YES Castiel is nude and YES Dean is painting him but if you’re expecting smut right from the get go you are mistaken! I wanna say this is another slow burn?? But it has also been a while since I’ve read it. I just remember liking this one a lot. In my original rating, I gave it a 5/5 so that’s gotta mean something. Another little slice of life with a lot of good moments. Check it out!

8. A HOME BENEATH THE STARS

By CheshireMoon, 71,240 words

Hi, it’s me again. The girl who likes fics that rip her heart to SHREDS. I’m gonna be about as vague as can about this one because boy did that ending catch me off guard when I first read it. So Dean is homeless, right? And Cas is a kind hearted, Good Samaritan, astronomer. When the two meet Dean’s life changes… for the better… I’m gonna leave it at that. You could be ignorant like me and skip over the warnings to this fic and just leave it to good will and faith that this fic will leave you happy and giggly. Or you could do yourself a favor and know what’s coming but not know when it happens. Either way, I still recommend this one. I really like it, just make sure you have a fluff fest fic waiting for you on the other side.

9. THE FACE OF HEAVEN

By orange_crushed, 9,772 words

This one is short and so so sweet. Another type of slice-of-life where Dean is just a gay bartender living his best gay bartending life when he suddenly comes across a fallen star whose name is Castiel. It’s very unique and I love it so much. In my original opinion of this fic I said I didn’t like the formatting? And I think what I meant to say is, I don’t like reading long paragraphs but the formatting to this fic is perfectly fine lol. Still a fun little read and it’s pretty fluffy!

10. SO MUCH TANGLED THREAD

By imogenbynight, 37,428 words

Holy crap! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES. It’s like, Ninety One Whiskey almost, except there’s time travel, and supernatural happenings, and OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS FIC. It’s ends pretty quick but it’s still so so so good. Please read it, show it some love. I think about this one from time to time and I still smile. Much like with Painted Angels, you need an account to read this one. So make sure you’re logged in! If you don’t have an account you best get that invitation fr.

11. DIAMOND STAR HALO

By had, 4,924 words

Just pure fluff told from Sam Winchester’s perspective. I kind of have a soft spot for fics told from a third party perspective because it’s like they’re seeing Dean and Cas how WE see Dean and Cas and it makes me all giddy, I dunno. This is a good short read and you should definitely read it after reading something really sad and heart wrenching!

12. CINDERWINGS

By bendingsignpost, 181,619 words

STOP!! I love this fic!! It’s a Cinderella type story, there’s a masquerade ball, Dean is a PRINCE. Very fantasy with supernatural elements. It’s WONDERFUL. The way the author writes about the world through Castiel’s perspective is super entertaining and funny and I love the misunderstandings that happen within the story. If you love fantasy and monarchy and magic and parties, this is definitely a fic for you.

13. ONE WHITE LIE

By komodobits, 11.179 words

I can’t lie, komodobits is my favorite fic author and so I am a little biased towards their stories. This one is no exception. It’s hilarious, lighthearted, and fluffy. The range that this author has with their fics amazes and horrifies me. How can one person have that much talent? I have no idea. This is just a komodobits appreciation post, you got me. Anywho, Castiel tells a small lie to the Winchester brothers and they mess with him. Not based in canon, a very slice-of-life fic. I love it, please check it out.

14. FORGET-ME-NOT BLUES

By noangelsinthegarrison, 68,689 words

Ahhh I remember this one. Another slice-of-life, have you noticed a pattern? Sam and Jess are getting married! Woohoo! Of course Dean is in the wedding but so is Castiel, someone Dean has history with……….. Basically there’s misunderstandings and mutual pining and it’s fun. It’s got all sorts of romcom elements with just a dash of angst!

15. MUSCLE MEMORY

By komodobits, 18,961 words

Give me a story that’s loosely based off of 50 First Dates and written by my favorite fic author and suddenly I’m in Heaven. I’m a really big fan of movie AU’s, especially well written and this one is no exception. It’s kind of sad though, but if you’ve seen 50 First Dates then you should expect that. Even if you aren’t a fan of movie AU’s, I would still suggest giving this one a read.

16. KIND OF A FOREVER DEAL

By komodobits, 111,460 words

STOP LOOKING AT ME. YOU THINK IM PUTTING TOO MANY FICS BY THE SAME AUTHOR HERE? WELL YOU LISTEN TO ME PAL, THIS WON’T BE THE LAST ONE EITHER!! Ahem, this fic is awesome and sort of a fan favorite already!! Slice-of-life, teenaged angst, summer camp, LoVe, it’s amazing! The way that the author wrote the friendship between Dean, Cas, Jo, and Victor has me in tears. Very wholesome and heart wrenching, highly recommend!

17. IMPERFECT PROPOSALS

By Fallen_Angel_Meg, 111,082 words

Another movie AU! This is loosely based off The Proposal and filled with fluff! You really don’t see a whole lot of crossover fics that are long like this one, but it’s fun to read and you’ll probably fly through it just like I did. Do you like The Proposal? No? Read it anyways xx

18. CHECKED OUT

By whelvenwinge, 27,127 words

Okay this one, is really good. Like really good. It comes complete with original artwork and fantastic storytelling. Castiel is a librarian and he really despises Dean Winchester, an acclaimed author. It’s sooooo good, I cannot stress enough how much I think you should read this. And you’ll get really pretty pictures to look at! The ending is great, the beginning is great, it’s just wonderful. So what are you waiting for? Run along now and read it!

19. SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS

By habitatfordeanwinchester, 2,593

This one is just cute. It’s short and fluffy. Imagine Castiel working at a Chipotle and getting special instructions on a mobile order. Can you guess who they’re from? If you’re sad and need a pick me up, just read this one. It’s so cute!

20. C-S-T-L

By komodobits, 90,377

It has been a really long time since I read this one. But I know that I loved every second of it and I was crying during the majority of it. Either because I had just got done reading 91w or because the story itself made me emotional. Either way it’s a fantastic read! Castiel is an android and Dean is tasked with adding him to their army for the WAR. This fic has wonderful world building, really in-depth character exploration, and the ANGST. I’m probably going to read this one again sometime soon~ JOIN MEEEEE

[ryebread0605]

Could I request bottom Sebek with top male reader? it's fine if not :)

Of course! I’ve never really written for Sebek but I adore him as a character so I’ll do my best!!! 

And yes I gave Sebek a praise kink because he deserves praise 

“I’m sorry I know I should’ve warned you before you slept over but-“ Sebeks fingers fidgeted with the soft blanket covering his lap, his eyes cast downwards and a heavy red tint covering his cheeks. 

Earlier today, he had been so excited about inviting you, his boyfriend, to sleepover for the first time (which Lilia teased him endlessly about how he stuttered while asking) that he forgot one major key detail.

His rut.

It wasn’t new to him, Sevens no, but it completely slipped his mind this time and so now he was sat in his bed hoping to whichever of the Great Seven could hear him that he could calm his now desperate mind and just have a normal sleepover with you. 

But as your lips gently pressed against his and a small smile made its way to your face, he couldn’t help but be completely entranced and focused on nothing but your voice and body.

“My poor boy, you don’t have to be embarrassed. These things are natural sweetheart, it’s alright. Now, would you like some help?” You made sure to keep your voice calm and soft, not wanting to scare the already heavily embarrassed man any further. And well, you knew how much he adored when you spoke like that.

With a hesitant nod and a small whine, you coaxed him to lay on his stomach and slowly reached around to undo his belt. Slipping it out of the loop and undoing his pants before pulling those off too, you could already feel his cock hard and pressing taut against his boxers. His face flushed even more red as he tried to hide it but slowly moved his hands as you reminded him you had to take his boxers off to help him.

“Such a good boy, now I know how bad you want me but I have to prep you first alright? Cant have my precious boy in pain” he practically melted at the praise. The way you called him precious made his heart beat faster and his body grow more desperate for you. As you slipped one finger inside of him, he bit back a moan at the sensation. He was always so sensitive and surprisingly quiet during these intimate times, that was until you *really* got him going. 

Slowly yet steadily you pumped your finger in and out of him, adding a second once you thought he was ready and beginning to scissor his hole to stretch him for you.  His soft moans were muffled by the pillow he had chosen to bury his face into but the way he ground himself against your hand told you he was enjoying himself. 

He let out a soft whine as you removed your fingers, looking back to see why you stopped only to be met with the site of your bare body. Grabbing the bottle of lube you knew he kept in his bedside drawer, you coated your cock in it before lining yourself up against his hole.

“Take a deep breath for me sweetheart, and if you need me to stop you tell me” he nodded in response and gripped the pillow, letting out a moan of pure pleasure as you began to push into him. Allowing him to adjust slowly to the feeling, you took your time before bottoming out, smirking a bit at the slight bulge in his stomach. He panted softly before looking back at you again.

“P-please (name), i need you to move. P-please don’t hold back i need you to be fast (name) please!” His begs were like music to your ears and, with a smirk, you complied. The sound of skin against skin and his desperate yet muffled moans filled the normally stubborn boy’s room as your cock moved against his walls. Reaching a hand around, you used one hand to jerk him off while the other held his hips in place. 

“Such a good boy for me, being all loud~ I just love when you’re this obedient~ you really want everyone to know who you belong to, don’t you sweetheart~?” Your teasing praise made him blush more, his mind too scrambled by the pace of your hips slamming into his to do anything more than shakily repeat the word more over and over. And who were you to deny your perfect boy what he wanted? 

Your pace was brutally fast, each thrust causing your balls to slap against him while your hand continued to jerk him off. He was far too fucked out of it to even speak anymore, lips parted and tongue hanging out as his back arched beautifully and he moaned out your name like it was the only thing he knew how to do. It wasn’t surprising when he hit his peak and came hard onto his sheets and your hand, his hole clenching around you and milking your cock. You sent ropes of warm, sticky cum into him while still fucking him through both of your orgasms.

Pulling out him slowly, you lay beside him and gently run your hands through his hair that now sticks to his forehead, a lovedrunk smile on his face as he lays his head on your chest.

“You did so good baby, I’m so proud of you. You’re so amazing for me” your words of praise made the man whine again, quickly feeling his cock harden and, with a chuckle, you got on your knees in front of him, intending to please him until your poor boy was finally satisfied 

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

“rose is always wall eyed, sad eyed even when smiling.” — rebecca sugar

this is such a simple note describing rose’s appearance in rebecca’s concept drawings for rose’s lion 3 debut, but it’s incredibly tragic when you consider rose’s character

she’s so deeply ashamed of herself and her past; the way she worships everyone around her is so sincere; she can’t stand herself

rose keeps her eyes closed in every picture she leaves behind. rose with her boyfriend, the portrait in steven’s house. she wouldn’t want him to be anywhere near that kind of pain. even rose’s fountain has a statue of her with her eyes closed. she hides parts of herself, literally & figuratively.

she can’t open up about her past; she would much rather shut it out. she can’t bear the thought of even having to look at her own pain.

“oh, i’m so happy for everyone who’s going to know you.” — rose, lion 4

“rose quartz hoped with all her being that her child would grow up surrounded by love & kindness & care… and would never find a way back to her horrendous old home.” — the tale of steven

“sometimes i wonder if it's even you up there, smiling all day and night. i just want to know the real you. not the you that everyone tells me about.” — steven, storm in the room

just on a pearlrose note, i always loved how pearl was in the picture on the left. rose really did trust her & garnet & ame, despite the fact that it took time for them to understand how to show their love & raise a half human kid properly. but he was a gift to them & she believed in them too. she’d be proud of them, especially with everything going on.

rose hides her past, but one person was there for most of it. she was the type to notice small details—maybe it was painfully easy for her to notice rose’s eyes. i wonder if this complicated things even more, as she was already focused on what she could do to make rose happy. simply being herself made rose feel loved, but that was always something she struggled to feel worthy of