#Either That Or It’s A Purely Psychological Thing

[writing-for-life]

@embervoices , I had to put this in a reblog because it got too long for the comments (brevity is not my forte 🤣):

Yes yes yes! I’ve got several metas that riff on exactly the points you mention, also Desire not being the straightforward villain so many think they are; you’ll find them all in my meta-library:

(please don’t feel you need to read them though)

Or rather: If we look at the Endless conceptually instead of seeing them solely as, well, “not human but still people”, we get to a deeper meaning that will otherwise stay inaccessible. It starts with *when* Desire and Despair first enter the scene in the main run (right after The Sound of her Wings, when Dream… well, hears the sound of her wings 😩). The “big sister sets his head straight” is a valid surface reading of #8, but it’s also just that—a surface reading.

You can’t love and be close to Death if you don’t feel drawn to death.

Death can’t advise you without also being her function. She *is* death. The literal thing. And I’ll never tire of saying it, because every time he listens to her in the whole run, he gets closer to her in the real sense.

And another unpopular opinion: When NG coined the pithy phrase that one must change or die, and that Morpheus made his choice, he didn’t mean he just chose death (even if a felt 80% of people seem to read it like that, but that might just be what I see on my feed—other people’s mileage might vary). They were never to be read as mutually exclusive—it was always both. Because metaphorically, something needs to die to change—a viewpoint, a habit, a set of beliefs. And yet, it doesn’t entirely disappear. That’s exactly what happens—omnia mutantur, nihil interit. And Dream is the Prince of Stories—of course he relates to everything via a narrative *he* spins (he can deny it all he wants).

And yes, you can absolutely desire death—it’s so poignant that we meet Desire and Despair for the first time in #10, and also that they show as the twins on this occasion.

And then there is Brief Lives, when Desire (which is *also* a life force, and that’s important contextually in several arcs) actively pulls out of the scheming in more than one way: Dream even says, verbatim, he has no desire to “do this”, when he usually avoids even the word like the plague (and if he hadn’t done it, the ending might have been different, but that would have also been totally past the point). But the influence of his other siblings, or rather how he relates to them, is far more devastating in that moment. And while they all try as siblings, they are also their function. And in their function, they are NOT helping—again, it’s so obvious if we just look at when and how they show up for him:

Delirium made him go on the trip to find Destruction, Death told him off and made him change his mind when he had already abandoned the plan, Destiny advised him but also didn’t because he is what *must* happen either way, and Despair only showed up for him after Orpheus’ death.

Funnily enough, Desire, despite all their scheming, was always the only one who saved his ass (maybe not always for the most unselfish reasons, but they did it anyway). Not just once. Several times over. Overture is all I’ll say (during the actual events of Overture, but also in the flashback to Alianora’s story).

It’s all incredibly clever and heartbreaking at once…

”But He Loved, He Should Have Been Forgiven”

About Free Will, Responsibility and Agency: Lucifer and Dream as Foils

Did I finally jump on the Lucidream/Dreamingstar bandwagon? No, don’t panic (or be eternally disappointed 🤣), because that quote is actually from “Murder Mysteries”, a short story that also exists in comic form (drawn by P. Craig Russell). And while it isn’t officially part of the Sandman Universe (or even DC), I always saw it as somewhat of a blueprint of how NG (re)imagined Lucifer’s Fall. There is enough in Lucifer’s characterisation in the Sandman that makes it quite plausible as a sort of backstory, especially since it was written when the Sandman was still in full swing. But more about that later…

I’ve long wanted to write a meta about Lucifer and Dream as narrative foils, and since I’ve finally started clearing out my drafts, this was a good one to do right now because we are currently discussing “A Hope in Hell” in our community (join us!). Although I have to admit that this one is rather about what transpires when Lucifer decides to abandon their realm in Season of Mists...

When Lucifer learns of Dream's impending return to Hell to finally release Nada, it solidifies their own resolve to leave (I use they/them pronouns because of the show although comics!Lucifer is male presenting apart from the plumbing and also referred to as he/him). By the time Dream arrives, Hell is nearly deserted, with Lucifer basically expelling its last inhabitants. Lucifer tells Dream they rebelled long ago, and that they are not willing to “pay for that one action” anymore. And the most profound truth they share with Dream is the nature of ultimate freedom—the freedom to leave. This is also brought up many issues later, when Lucifer says to Delirium, "I told him, you know. I told him years ago… I told him that I owed him much for having given me the impetus to go. I told him there was always freedom, even the ultimate freedom. The freedom to leave. You don't have to stay anywhere forever.”

And that’s just… ouch. Not just because it so clearly shows that Morpheus also could have left had he just chosen to (then again, he wouldn’t be Morpheus if he had, and even more “then again”: he did in certain ways), but also because we generally see Lucifer as an antagonistic force. But here, they express something akin to gratefulness. And maybe even a hint of regret that Morpheus didn’t also choose the same way. They feel almost sorry for him (my guess is they actually do, and I can never forget their face at The Wake). But what do you do if even freedom feels like a cage?

All of this ties in neatly with the crucial truth about Hell Lucifer reveals: People are there because they choose to be (and that Hell doesn’t need to be a physical place: We can make our own—any place, even in our own minds).

...this is where you wanted to be.

Lucifer explains to Dream:

"Why do they blame me for all their little failings? They use my name as if I spend my entire day sitting on their shoulders, forcing them to commit acts they would otherwise find repulsive. 'The Devil made me do it.' I have never made one of them do anything. Never. They live their own tiny lives. I do not live their lives for them.”

He continues, “and then they die, and they come here (having transgressed against what they believed to be right), and expect us to fulfil their desire for pain and retribution. I don't make them come here. They talk of me going around and buying souls, like a fishwife come market day, never stopping to ask themselves why. I need no souls. And how can anyone own a soul? No.

They belong to themselves… they just hate to face up to it.”

Which brings me to one of the most important messages (one of many) of the Sandman: People must take responsibility (and in this particular case not only for their lives but also for their afterlives, which is also a recurring theme). Each person's soul is their own, and no one can take that away. Paradoxically (or maybe not), as Lucifer abandons their own responsibilities, they urge people to take responsibility for themselves: You can drop said responsibilities, with all that entails, as long as you also take responsibility for the fallout.

So what about the wider question of free will then?

Let’s look at Lucifer's rebellion and fall for that, because both raise a lot of questions. Dream tells Lucifer that he remembers them as passionate, and Lucifer responds, “I cared about so many things. I suppose that was why everything began to go wrong. You know… I still wonder how much of it He planned. How much of it He knew in advance. I thought I was rebelling. I thought I was defying His rule. No… I was merely fulfilling another tiny segment of His great and powerful plan.”

And this brings me right to NG’s short story “Murder Mysteries”, which isn’t really officially part of the Sandman Universe, but also… it totally is 🤣. In it, pre-fall Lucifer witnesses the destruction of an angel who killed another angel they loved. Raguel (the angel formerly tasked with said destruction who now walks on earth, coincidentally mentioned in the panel above as one who might also have rebelled) narrates, “‘That was not right. That was not just.’ Perhaps Saraquael was the first to love, but Lucifer was the first to shed tears."

Later, it is revealed that God orchestrated this situation to push Lucifer towards rebellion. God needed an adversary to run Hell and says, “Lucifer must brood on the unfairness of Saraquael's destruction. And that—amongst other things—will precipitate him into certain actions. Poor sweet Lucifer. His way will be the hardest of all my children; for there is a part he must play in the drama that is to come, and it is a grand role.”

Lucifer was basically set up by God, and this somewhat revisionist interpretation of their rebellion and fall opens up larger questions about free will, agency and destiny.

Because although Lucifer's actions were influenced by God, they still carried them out and are therefore fully responsible for them. And by choosing to abandon Hell, Lucifer was taking responsibility for their own life. They faced a choice: remain in Hell as a shadow of their former self, or move on and make peace.

This fragile peace is illustrated at the end of "A Season of Mists," when Lucifer and an old man are conversing on a beach. The old man, despite having lost everyone he loved, remarks that any God who can create such beautiful sunsets couldn't be all bad. After the man leaves, Lucifer admits (basically to God), “He's got a point. The sunsets are bloody marvelous, you old bastard. Satisfied?”

And in a way, even Lucifer comes to terms with their past once they take responsibility for it.

In a way, this mirrors Dream’s arc to a tee. One could certainly argue that he was set on his path by forces outwith his control: Whatever had to happen in cosmic terms was always bigger than Dream. The Fates also held a grudge against him and Orpheus, for more than one reason. Orpheus did make the Furies cry, and they never forgave him for that. Crucially though, he was also responsible for his own actions and carried them out. Only that Dream’s choice was ultimately a different one—or was it truly? Because what is the exact definition of “walking away”? He certainly did not abandon his realm like Lucifer because he ensured it was taken care of. There is no devil-may-care (no pun intended) attitude, because even when choosing death, Morpheus does care about his realm and the dreamers. Deeply.

It is the sole reason why the ending we get is the ending we get, and why we have Daniel as Dream in the end. And while Lucifer takes responsibility for their own life, Morpheus takes responsibility for his own death. But both Lucifer and Morpheus faced a choice: remain on their paths as shadows of their former selves, or move on and make peace. And both chose the latter.

And one takeaway for us, as the readers, might be that if we find ourselves in an intolerable situation, we can always walk away, even if the price may be high. This brings us back to the theme of freedom:

The price of freedom is taking responsibility for our lives, even if we haven't been fully in control of them. The freedom to walk away might not be the ultimate freedom, as Lucifer suggests, but it is significant.

Free will in the Sandman is a topic of debate, and I tangentially wrote about it before:

Destiny carries a book that contains everything that will happen to us, all there was, is and will be. Most of all though, it contains what must happen. One could say that in this universe, there is a strong element of predestination involved. However, complaining about a lack of free will and just pointing towards Destiny’s book also misses the point:

In the end, our lives are always our own (which is mentioned several times, directly or in a roundabout way: in Façade, in Song of Orpheus, in Brief Lives, in The Kindly Ones, in The Wake).

Your life and your death are your own

Some of us might have more to overcome than others, but the sooner we accept our unique challenges (which is not the same as being passive), the more we will focus on what we can change—or what we can meet with forgiveness and (self-)compassion.

Destiny and freedom as opposite sides of the coin matter far less than what we do with them…

[luxraydyne]

wait, dude, wait. aini was supposed to be cosmic horror??

girl, seriously? i dunnooooo i’m not really feeling it fellas

[kitten4sannie]

ateez and corruption kinks… that’s it I just had to let that out into the void

communion

pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)

summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um….well…a religious object…)

a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption 🖤 physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33

p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie 🫶🏼

song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on….)

No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.

Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.

He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.

“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.

Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ…” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.

“Amen.”

Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”

You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.

“Oh, God, let His will be done….” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So…nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity…” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit…”

Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full…so that I may take you inside properly…”

It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.

You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.

“What a thing of beauty….” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.

“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied non/con, extreme pet play, dehumanization, psychological/physical abuse, and unbalanced power dynamics.

commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.

Sometimes, you really do think Suguru thinks of you as a pet.

It shouldn’t be as difficult to believe as it is. Of course you’d be less than human to him, less than equal to the god-like status he has among his followers. But, Suguru knows he’s not a god, and while you might not be the only person he claims to be superior to, you are the only one he keeps locked in a steel-barred dog crate padded only by thread-bare blankets and distant memories of what it felt like to sleep in a real bed. You’re special – albeit, not the kind of special you’d like to be. You can disregard most of his grandiose speeches about ‘complete non-sorcerer elimination’ and ‘killing off those worthless monkeys’ as the self-indulgent rambling of a deranged cult leader, but he doesn’t seem to be phoning it in when it comes to you.

He doesn’t talk to you. Communication occurs solely through blunt orders (come, sit, bark, etc.) or sweetened, syrupy baby-talk, cooed as his fingers card through your hair and pet down the length of your spine. You’re expected (something learned purely through trail and error, reward and punishment) to follow him around happily, to sit at his feet and clamber into his lap whenever his eyes find yours and he taps his thigh, that expectant smile already tugging at the corner of his lips. Depending on the day, you’re either coddled and adored like a beloved pet, allowed to walk on two legs rather than four and fed treats out of his open palm, or treated like a stray who’d wandered in off the street and refuses to leave. You do prefer the former to the latter, but it doesn’t really make that much of a difference, not if you’re being honest with yourself. Either way, you always seem to end up on your knees between his legs as he sits above you, a fist curled around your collar as he tells you to lick, puppy, lick.

Speaking of – you’re not allowed to wear clothes. You used to hate it, to steal his shirts and hide in closets, to do anything you could to salvage what little pride you had left, but it’s hard not to get used to something forced onto you so constantly. The only thing Suguru’s ever given you to wear is a simple, black, leather collar – studded with silver spikes and drawn tight enough to bite into your throat when he pulls on it, which he does often. You’re thankful he doesn’t make you wear those cutesy animal ear headbands or, god forbid, a tail, but not as thankful as you should be. As unbearable as it’d be, having him dress you up like a cat or a dog or some wide eyed, sexed-up rabbit would take the edge off. Like this, it’s harder to believe he thinks of you as an animal, as something cute and small and vulnerable that he can love and care for. It’s harder to deny that he knows you’re human – he just doesn’t see why that would ever mean you couldn’t also be his pet.

You think, when you’ve exhausted all other silver linings, that it’s (partially, at least) his excuse to keep you. You know what he does to people who aren’t like him, you’ve seen what he’s like at his worst, and you know that, if you weren’t his pet, you’d just be another non-sorcerer, another nuisance the world would be better off without. If you’re a pet, you can’t be a person, and if you’re not a person, it means he’s not going against his warped ideals when he pulls you close to his chest, when he ghosts his lips over the top of your head, when he fucks you so softly and so gently, you can almost believe he cares whether or not you enjoy it. Pets are supposed to be loved, and so he’s not doing anything wrong by loving you.

You know what would happen to you if you weren’t his pet, too, if he couldn’t make excuses for himself. You’ve seen how wide his smile can be when he comes home with blood on his clothes, how little effort it takes for him to hook his hands under your arms and carry you to his bed, already muttering about how perfect he’s going to make the world for his pretty, precious pet. You’re not allowed to leave his cramped apartment, but he talks about putting you on display for his acolytes as he ruts into you with an almost animalistic brutality, about showing all of those filthy, degenerative insects what a well-trained mutt looks like. You know that you should do more to fight back, that your humanity should be worth more to you than a few half-hearted escape attempts and the occasional pained whine, but you’ve seen see what he can do, heard about the dismembered bodies he leaves to rot in a ditch behind his temple, and—

And, no matter how much you hate him for it, no matter how much you hate yourself for it, it’s true.

When it comes down to it, you’d rather be his pet than be nothing at all.

[worldsover]

Iff ft. Yujin

length ✦ 10.9k

genres ✧ breeding, as in breeding breeding, as in actual pregnancy kink; degrading petplay; NEVER underestimate my lack of sanity; super subby puppy gf with baby fever!Yujin

✦✧✦✧✦✧

It is necessarily true that there exists an ideal number of offspring for each human female from a purely genetic standpoint. Our distant ancestors who survived countless millennia of famine, warfare, and disease were those whose genomes encoded a certain target number for offspring; this number was close enough to just above two children that random fluctuations in fertility could never deviate much below or above that figure. For these women, at least, natural selection would penalize having either fewer or more children than their genes desired, as this would diminish the proportion of their offspring in subsequent generations. This principle extends even today: A 2021 study by Hutchings revealed significant variability in the number and size of offspring among species, driven by genetic and developmental factors. This suggests a non-fixed ideal number of offspring, adapting to societal changes and living conditions.

Even after tens of thousands of years, we are still these animals. That is, Homo sapiens sapiens does not differ greatly from its parent species Homo sapiens when it comes to such biological imperatives as sex and reproduction. Yet only a fraction of people maintain a lifestyle that mirrors contingent strategies favored by evolution, resulting in a massive imbalance between evolved psychology and modern life. Although humans may no longer face the constant threat of starvation posed by an unforgiving wilderness, problems evolve in the same way—we do not have nearly enough children to replace the adult population, at least in many developed countries. The United States, Canada, Australia, and many European countries are experiencing population decline, but nowhere is this phenomenon more exacerbated than in East Asia, with particularly acute examples in China, Japan, and South Korea. Our subject for examination lies within the context of the latter nation, wherein perhaps a solution may be found through the example of Ahn Yujin.

You and Yujin are going to work toward fixing this new, evolved problem by starting a family. With her fervor and your virility, you just might do this single-handedly—if not, at least you two will leave that target number in the dust. The world will thank you, and you, the world, for yielding you Yujin. The future is assured, so long as you can satisfy your breeding needs.

Yujin fits the archetype for having large numbers of offspring: there must have existed designs for Yujin's body as the template for prolific breeders. Even the most conservative anthropologist would admit Yujin's hips are ideal for childbearing, especially in proportion to her height. Her breasts are not the largest, but they are certainly sufficient enough for breastfeeding—and if not that, at least your own tit-sucking pleasures. Her lithe body was built to breed, and above any physical attributes, the mind within only confirms that impression.

She is eager, insatiable, and obedient. You tell her to strip, and she is naked in seconds. You tell her to go on all fours, and she is on all fours. You tell her to put her lips around your cock, and she is deepthroating you in an instant. And when you tell Yujin that she's now your little puppy to train and use as you please, she follows your command gladly.

Her greatest fantasy is being bred hard and often, and this is the fantasy most oft fulfilled by you, her master. It starts with the collar around her neck: an innocuous thing, leather and black, with a silver buckle in the front, and a ring in the back through which you put a leash. When she has that collar on, she is not the confident, witty, ambitious woman who commands everyone's attention—she is your pet, "Puppy", as so engraved in delicate silver script on the black leather.

The collar rarely leaves her neck at this point, a couple of years into your relationship. By now, she's your live-in pet.

You don't even remember the last time you used a condom. That was months ago, at least—a year? Ever since she moved in, you've been savoring Yujin's raw, slick walls on your cock, and she gets off on the all-filling feeling of your semen seeping into her fertile womb. If it weren't for the pill, Yujin would have been knocked up long ago. Despite that, each time you make love, you talk about breeding, playing at dreams of impregnating her with plenty of pups. She moans "please" on each thrust, and you know exactly what she's begging for when she whispers that "Master's cum is gonna be Daddy cum any day now." When the two of you are ready, there is no doubt that Yujin will become the mother of your children.

You and Yujin have many ways of making love, ranging from rough hair-pulling to gentle adoration. But one element always remains the same: the collar that transforms her into a wild, lustful creature, erasing all thoughts as soon as it's clasped around her slender neck. Her urgent pleas for you to release your load deep inside her are often met with little resistance, but occasionally you like to make her work for it—teasing and edging her until she whines and begs, this desperate bitch in heat. Then, you offer her a choice: continue being edged for another hour or allow yourself to impregnate her with your potent seed, guaranteed to result in triplets. Which will it be?

The answer, of course, is that both are correct. Why should we deprive ourselves of what nature gave us? If one woman loves being bred, why not breed her constantly? If another wants to be edged, why deny her? False dichotomies like these remain pervasive. Be sexually dominant or submissive; enjoy sex or romance; fuck like rabbits or make love tenderly—these can all exist together, if we so allow them to.

For example, there are always two women at play with your girlfriend: the Yujin who is a vibrant social butterfly, curious and never satisfied with sitting still; and the Yujin who lives and breathes your cock in daily routine, the Yujin who will happily let you lock her away in a dark room if you promised to give her your cum. You love both Yujins: a charming conversationalist, always cool and collected; a horny, obedient slut, who you train to do tricks in exchange for cum, who will only bark if her master so demands. There is no need to choose between these two Yujins, and you would not dream of doing so.

Or, consider the most misleading of dilemmas, being a young couple with kids, or being a young couple that stays together. Humans have grown rich enough and powerful enough to craft a society where the worst thing that could happen to a young couple—pregnancy at an inconvenient time—no longer threatens them in the same way. Now that people no longer have to marry their first stable match or die alone, now that everyone has gotten a little bit smarter and more independent, the universe is filled with possibilities for love and affection. This future child you make with Yujin could grow up in an environment where they would want for nothing, especially not siblings, for you'll give them plenty to spare. Thus, to knock Yujin up is hardly the disaster it would have been in our primitive past. Rather, you both should celebrate it.

This is not to say that every single person is the same. Not many women are as dedicated to the goal of impregnation as Yujin, and not many men are as driven to fill a receptive body with their progeny as you are. The series of coin flips and card draws that led to your personalities, to this relationship that binds you, is quite unlikely to repeat itself.

Yujin recognizes the rarity of the match. Even in the first meeting, she was as astute as a hunter dog, scenting prey, noting all the signs in the forest that you were the one. That night, after your friend invited Yujin to the bar, small talk quickly became deep conversation. Yujin asked your opinion on something. You gave it. Yujin replied, "Oh, I like a guy who takes charge." A few minutes later, she said she had to use the bathroom. She left her purse with you. Yujin did not return for another ten minutes, and when she did, it was with flushed cheeks and sweat on her brow. You asked her what took so long, and she answered, "You're so hot. I might have… been doing something naughty."

"Bad girl," you said.

At this point, your friend knew to leave.

You understand that Yujin is still the same girl, only with more of herself exposed to you—not just literally. She's been hinting at the concept of properly mating for weeks now, but she needed you to make the first move. It's a bit like old times, the nights after you met, the weeks you danced around each other's desires. Whenever she hinted at her interest, you weren't stupid enough to be oblivious—every word dripped with innuendo, every glance a flirt, every movement an invitation. But you built tension with purpose. She was too special to sleep with on the first date. In much the same way, what was once mere fantasy, empty talk of impregnating Yujin during sex, is starting to take on the shape of reality. In this sense, here returns Yujin the hunter dog, searching for a new quarry: your future family.

However, this is not lust alone. The chemicals that control desire can't do all the work in this relationship. When Yujin asks you more frequently about your opinion on having kids, you don't ignore it as simple pillow talk; she is gauging your willingness to commit. Because you love her, because she's right for you, past the sex and the fantasies, you take her seriously. Yujin speaks with infectious enthusiasm about her friends who have recently become mothers, all of whom are convinced that you two would make fantastic parents. Casually, she mentions she's not taking birth control anymore.

"I might be ovulating soon." "The doctor said I'm in my prime right now." "Do you think I'd be a good mother? You'll be a good daddy, for sure."

To that last question, you assure her, over and over, with the certainty that Yujin deserves. "The best mommy. I promise."

You find her researching baby names. Starts looking up parenting tips and ideas for nursery decorations. She's even helped you plan out your dream family home. There's something different about how Yujin looks at you. She's thinking about pregnancy, not just as a topic of conversation, not just as a fetish, but as a goal.

Concerns and fears, worries and hopes, you discuss them thoroughly, sometimes after sex, when Yujin is too tired to move and she lies in bed with your cock still inside her, cum on her lips, your hands around her belly feeling her body and dreaming of what it might become. Talks of plans become more and more serious as you set aside money and time for this future family, thinking about moving out from this modest apartment to a proper house. But ultimately, here is Yujin, in your arms, by your side, an angel's face, eyes stolen from the stars as they twinkle.

Like when you first fell in love, everything lovely about Yujin becomes magnified, so how could you deny her? You hold her close and promise that you'll do anything to make her happy, to make her dreams come true. She whispers back, "I know. I've never felt so loved."

It isn't long before Yujin becomes more brazen. As you try to fall asleep, you hear wet sounds next to you as Yujin's fingers dive in her pussy, presumably to the idea of you impregnating her. The next morning, she confirms your suspicions, this time sending you a video from the bathtub as she masturbates and talks dirty about how much she worships your cum. She sends you amateur porn of women taking three creampies three times in a row, or pregnant women squirting milk onto the camera lens while riding a man.

Then, there's the actual sex between the two of you. "Do you want to knock me up? Come on, let's just do it now. Please? Can't you tell I need it?"

You're glad to continue teasing and edging Yujin until her desire is too much to bear, her eyes watering and face contorted with desperation. Her raw pussy tightens around you even more, begging for release. You tell her it's up to Master before pulling out and spraying cum over her stomach. Obedient as ever, she cleans it up and swallows it down but her frustration is clear—she wants to be filled completely. You're truthfully equally as ready to impregnate Yujin, sooner rather than later; you want to watch your seed blossom within her, want to see her stomach swell, her tits fill up with delicious milk, and her nipples grow fat with lust. The smell of her slick sex is intoxicating whenever you slip a hand down her pants, or spread her pussy wide open to taste.

After settling all the necessary financial and personal matters, Yujin stays busy with buying pregnancy tests, making lists, and studying every bit of advice on how to conceive. You each tell your families that you're trying, which is a funny way of saying "I'm going to fuck enough sperm into your fertile daughter that she's guaranteed to bear our children, and we're going to do it so often that she might as well never leave my cock," but you suppose that "trying" is the more polite way of putting it. Yujin's mother has already started preparing the nursery, and your parents are talking about visiting to help watch over her when she gets farther along in the pregnancy. You're ready to move into your new place, but not before this apartment where you first made love has its proper send-off.

You thought you'd witnessed the limits of Yujin's vulnerability. However, you've never seen your girlfriend quite as desperate, needy, and pathetic as you do on the morning you decide it's time to breed Yujin.

For days, you've teased her relentlessly—marked her bare neck with bruises and bite marks, denied Yujin her collar until she's earned it, edged her with your fingers and mouth, fucked her fast and rough, used her as a living fleshlight, edged her more with toys. Made her watch as you jacked off onto her abs, fed her a throatful, or plugged up her ass with a thick load.

"Master, please," she begged, over and over, as her pussy clenched on nothing. With her body painted abstract expressionist—soaked in cum like you're marking territory—you needed multiple towels to clean the slumberous Yujin so that the sheets weren't too sticky. Left one towel under her legs to catch her dripping arousal. By the time she went to sleep last night, her guts were full of your cum, while her mind was void of all thoughts except for one: the place your seed had yet to reach, aching to be fulfilled like the rest of her body.

When you wake early and find Yujin's body pressed against yours in bed, her sleep is fitful, due to this very lack of semen inside her womb. She tosses, turns, her body hot. You touch her forehead with your hand to check for a fever, but it's just the heat of her arousal making her sweat. You run your fingers down her spine. Her skin feels flushed. Looks it too, how red her cheeks are. The sun has barely begun its ascent, so its color makes her glow further. Your fingertips reach her tailbone, then slip lower, where you press against her clit. Her breathing quickens as she rouses awake, and you pull your hand back.

With each breath, her tits rise and fall; they feel heavier than usual in your hands. The mingled scents of sweat and sex surround you, but beneath it all is an added note that stirs your arousal. It's a familiar smell, one that always drives you wild. You recognize the telltale signs of Yujin's hormones going into overdrive, intensifying her already insatiable desires. Her nipples, already normally sensitive, become almost painfully hypersensitive to every touch. She can't get enough of your scent, pressing her nose against your chest, armpit, neck, and groin—anywhere she can inhale your intoxicating musk.

It's time. Yujin is ovulating today.

Yesterday, you checked the calendar and the apps and the notes; however, none of the charts factor the most important variable: your instincts. Yujin looks so damn adorable when she wakes up, eyes bleary, hair disheveled, mouth still sticky with drool, legs spread, and a wet spot in the towel from where her pussy has been leaking—this was always going to be the day.

You gently stroke behind your puppy's ear, brushing her cheek with affection. "Morning, my love" comes out as your softest whisper.

Yujin stirs in response, nuzzling her head against your shoulder as she slowly wakes from her slumber. She yawns and blinks several times before finally locking eyes with you, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. "Good morning, Master," she says, shifting closer to give you a gentle kiss on the lips. Then another ten kisses. Twenty. "I had the weirdest dream."

You smile against her lips as you run your fingers through her tousled hair. "Do tell."

She seems to remember that you've been edging her for days, her thighs rubbing together, the scent of her slick arousal thick in the air. Yujin giggles and buries her face in your chest. When she finally looks up again, her cheeks are tinged red, and Yujin avoids your gaze. "I dreamed… that you were fucking me—"

"Of course," you interject, grinning. You reach down between her legs, returning to her folds, feeling how hot she's gotten overnight. It takes no effort to slide one finger inside your girlfriend.

"—and then you came inside of me, and it was so warm, and I was so full, and…" Yujin trails off as you add another finger. "And then the next day, I felt different. Like something inside of me changed."

"Oh?" Your hand moves steadily in and out of her tightness as she speaks.

"Yes," Yujin murmurs, her breath coming out in short gasps. "It felt like there was a weight in my stomach, but not physically. It was hard to explain, but it just felt off."

You continue to pleasure Yujin with your fingers, watching as she writhes beneath you. She lets out a whimper at the sensation and spreads her thighs wider for you. As her body responds to your touch, she whispers with breathless urgency:

"So I put my hands on my tummy, trying to figure out why things felt so off, and then... Oh! I can't believe I'm telling you this!" she exclaims, hiding her face in your chest again.

"Everything. I want to hear the whole dream." You push deeper, curling your fingers inside her, searching for her G-spot. She moans, and you hear the faint squelching of her slick leaking out.

"Master!" she says, panting, louder, gasping for air. "I—oh god—I just knew it! I had your pups inside me. I knew, because my belly felt heavy, and my body felt strange, and there was a pressure on my chest, and, and my nipples were so, so sensitive, and when I touched them, milk came out, and—" Yujin cuts herself off with another sharp yelp, your fingerfucking reaching a crescendo. "Master! Please!"

You chuckle. "That was quite vivid, puppy." Withdrawing digits from your girlfriend's warmth, you sit up and position yourself behind her, pressing her soft curves into your body—she's always been such a perfect fit, in your lap, in your arms, in your life. On your cock too, as it nestles comfortably between her round, plump buttocks.

She shivers at your touch, and you know from the tremble that Yujin's close to her peak.

"Today."

Yujin's eyes widen in surprise as you utter the single word. It's almost magical, the way that one word can turn a dream into a reality more than any other before it. You understand her desires and share them with equal passion—although, at this moment, could anyone want anything as much as Yujin right now? Her breathing hitches even more as desire floods through every inch of her body. Her glazed eyes stare back at you with pure love, the dilated pupils barely showing any trace of color.

You nod, confirming what she already suspects. "Yes, Yujin, today is the day."

A single tear gathers at the corner of her eye, threatening to spill over. Her voice quivers and trails off as she struggles to speak. "Master..." Her breath catches in her throat. "Are we really... going to—"

You lean in and capture her lips with a deep, passionate kiss. "Yes," you whisper against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "We are going to have a baby. Babies."

She moans loudly against your lips, unable to contain her excitement, as she grinds her body against yours. "Nngh, oh my god, yes, yes! Yes, I want to have my Master's puppies! Please, please, fuck my pussy, breed me, I love you, make my womb yours, breed me, breed me, breed, m-me, mmmh—" Her babbling dissolves into a series of incoherent noises, her mind lost to the lustful haze of your touch.

You reach up and grasp Yujin's nape firmly but gently, pulling her closer to you. "You'll be a good puppy for Master today, won't you?" You raise an eyebrow expectantly.

Yujin murmurs and whines, sounding like a dog who has been chastised, though she nods quickly.

"Good. We'll have all day today, and the whole weekend to fuck, to fill you with my seed. You can be as loud as you want. I don't want you to restrain anything. I want to see you lose yourself completely, and I don't care who hears. Fuck the neighbors. We'll be leaving soon anyway." Your smirk widens.

Stroke her cheek, then pat her head and point to the floor next to the bed.

"On the ground, puppy."

Yujin slides off the edge of the mattress and kneels, her eyes never straying from your length, soft and hanging between your legs. A small gasp escapes her lips as she leans closer to your cock, her tongue slipping out between her teeth in anticipation. She releases a soft hum, murmuring, "I adore your scent, Master." With reverence, she snuggles against your cock with her cheeks and forehead, inhaling deeply as if testing the notes of a fine wine. Her lips part and her tongue darts out to cover your balls with her saliva. She finds pleasure in drooling on them, feeling their weight, and hearing you moan with enjoyment when she takes both in her mouth. As she feels the tension building between her thighs, she rubs them together for some relief.

She wraps her arms around your thighs and pulls herself closer, burying her nose in your crotch. As Yujin looks up at you, between big and pleading eyes, your shaft lays on her face, covering her mouth and nose. Every expression of submission, lust, and desperation hardens your cock. None match her unflinching smile while she lathers your sack in attention and spit.

Though her voice is muffled by your sack, she whimpers anyway, "Pwease, Master, cahn, I suck yow cock? So… yummy, mmnh." She lets each ball pop out of her mouth slowly, lines of drool connecting them to her glistening lips.

On this small hunt, Yujin's hand snakes towards your groin, but you don't plan on letting Yujin wring your balls dry so easily; you swat her hand away. "Ah-ah. You said you'd be a good girl."

Yujin's head drops in shame, her apology barely audible.

"What was that? Speak up," you demand.

She takes a deep breath before speaking louder. "I'm sorry, sir."

You place your palm gently on top of her head, relishing the softness of her fur beneath your fingertips. "What a good little puppy!" You say it with a hint of scorn, just the way she likes it - you can tell by the way she shivers in anticipation. Your voice turns serious. "If you want a treat, you have to earn it, right?"

Yujin nods eagerly, her eyes still downcast.

"Let's make sure you remember your tricks first."

With hopeful anticipation, she looks back up at you. It has been months since you've gone through this routine, the times the two of you delved deeper into this kink. When you first broached the subject, Yujin had played coy, but she took to it so naturally. And now, she's back in character perfectly. You run your hand through her hair, scratching behind her ear like an indulgent owner would for their well-behaved pet. Yujin leans into your touch, panting softly in contentment as she nuzzles against your hand.

"Sit," you order.

Your obedient pet Yujin complies at once and sits upright on her haunches. Her posture is impeccable, with knees pressed together, hands neatly resting on her thighs, and back straight as a rod. You hold out your hand with the palm facing up, and she eagerly places her chin in it. As she gazes up at you with adoration and trust shining in her eyes, you can't help but feel a sense of pride and ownership over this beautiful creature. It's moments like these that make you believe she was truly made for this canine role.

"Stay," you command, your intense gaze bearing down on Yujin. She fights to remain motionless, every muscle in her body trembling. But she is not a perfectly trained robot; sometimes a bratty, needy side emerges from within her. Rising from the bed, sheets rustling underneath you, you hold out your cock in front of her face. As if to say, look, here's the toy, puppy, as if daring her to lick it. You could thrust it into her mouth like a gloryhole and she wouldn't even flinch. But that's not why you're here. You're testing her. As if sensing your thoughts, she parts her lips slightly and you can practically smell the saliva building up in her mouth. Not good enough. In response, you smack her face with your hard length, the sound reverberating through the room. "Stay means stay," you remind her firmly.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath and squeezes her eyes shut, fighting to regain control over her body. After a few moments, she steadies herself and stares straight ahead, ignoring the throbbing member in front of her with impressive discipline.

You run your fingers through the soft fur of her head and praise her, "Such a good girl." With your other hand, you hold out your palm and command, "Paw." Yujin doesn't hesitate; she places her paw gently in your hand and allows you to shake it. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you see how easily she follows your commands. "And now, roll over."

Yujin's cheeks flush a bright shade of pink as she gets onto all fours before she rolls onto her back, fully exposing herself to you. The warm morning sunlight streams through the bedroom window, highlighting every curve and dip of her flawless skin. Her wet pussy is on full display, inviting and tempting you further. Every subtle movement of her hips captivates you as she meets your gaze with adoration and devotion shining in her eyes. A shy grin plays on her lips, but there is no doubt: Yujin loves being your devoted puppy, always eager to please and serve you in any way possible.

Yujin lies sprawled out on the cool, hardwood floor of your bedroom, her body aching with desire. Her thighs are parted wide, exposing her glistening, craving pussy to you. The scent of arousal fills the air as she squirms impatiently, her clit protruding from its hood in a swollen and red state. You can see the evidence of hours of teasing and foreplay in the puffy, engorged state of her labia. As you lean down and run your fingertips over the softness of her inner thighs, Yujin shudders under your touch, her muscles tensing and trembling with pleasure.

"Such a good girl. Just a few more, then you get your treat," you whisper, your voice low and seductive. "On your feet, puppy," you say, accompanied by a finger gesture.

Yujin rises gracefully, her arms lifting high above her head and crossing at the wrists. As she arches her back, pushing out her chest, she bites her lip and gazes at you with an intense longing. You come closer. As you cup her breast gently in your hand, Yujin shudders under your touch. To your caress, she arches deeper while she presses herself into your palm. Her body silently pleads for release from the building tension within her—she's not so silent. You continue to massage and explore her soft flesh, feeling the heat radiating from every inch of her skin. When you pinch her nipple between thumb and forefinger or knead the pliant tissue beneath your fingers, Yujin lets out soft whimpers.

Her nipples are hard as diamonds, and a hair's trigger away from causing another orgasm so soon with their sensitivity. They look delectable and you can't resist giving them the attention they deserve. It's also practice for when Yujin is pregnant, as you plan on sucking on them regularly then. Your lips start at her collarbone, eliciting moans from Yujin, before moving down to dive into the valley of her cleavage. You kiss and nip at the pale, sensitive skin of her tits before finally reaching her buds. You lose track of time as you lavish attention on Yujin's breasts, slicking them with your saliva until she looks like she's about to pass out in pleasure—the puppy truly is so sensitive there. But she stands strong for you, eager for more.

"Oh, god," you murmur huskily, your voice dripping with desire as you imagine Yujin's full, milk-filled breasts in your hands. "I can't wait to see them when you're pregnant. So much milk, so juicy and ripe." A smile spreads across Yujin's face at your words, her eyes shimmering with a combination of desire and love for you. You clear your throat. "Now, bow."

With practiced grace, she drops to her knees and bows her head in submission, her forehead touching the ground. Her long hair tumbles around her face, tickling her flushed cheeks. As she lifts her head to peek up at you through her thick lashes, a slight smile plays on her lips. She is proud of herself for remembering all the tricks, but her expression is still pleading for more.

"Mmm, turn around. All fours. One last time."

She complies, getting onto all fours and arching her back to present her ass to you. Her legs spread wider, revealing the slick pink folds of her pussy, glistening with moisture and awaiting your touch. For further measure, with one hand on each cheek, she pulls apart the mounds of her ass to expose her tight puckered asshole. Her juices flow freely down her thighs, leaving a trail on the hardwood floor beneath her as she quivers with anticipation.

"Well done," you praise, lowering yourself to the cool floor to caress Yujin's head, back, and firm ass. You run both your index and middle fingers along her slick slit, feeling the heat emanating from her core. With two fingertips against her entrance, you spread open her folds to inspect how ready she is for you before pushing in. Yujin moans and grinds her hips against your hand, craving more of your touch. You chuckle and withdraw your fingers from your girlfriend's dripping pussy; they glisten with her sweet nectar as you hold them up for her to see, like delicate strands of silk. You'd say she's ready.

She whimpers at the sudden lack of touch and watches intently as you lift your slick-covered digits to her nostrils. She inhales deeply, bites her lower lip, and squirms, her breathing ragged and quick.

"Does my little pup enjoy the scent of her own arousal?" you ask, a smug grin on your face. "That's the smell of a fertile bitch, eager to be bred."

Yujin eagerly nods her head, her eyes shining with desire as she opens her mouth, inviting you to let her lick your fingers clean.

You smirk at the display of submission; it sends a thrill down your spine, a jolt straight to your cock. "Beg like a good dog," you command, "then you can have my fingers to suck on."

After a deep breath, she barks like a loyal canine, then whimpers in need. Her voice is barely audible as she pleads for what she desires. "Please," she begs, her words coming out in soft whines like a dog begging for scraps. "Master, can I please suck on your fingers? I need it so badly." You let out a small chuckle at her plea, knowing that Yujin has been eagerly awaiting this moment. You smear some of her juices onto her cheek, causing her to instinctively try and lick them off but she quickly restrains herself.

You shake your head and tut disapprovingly, making a mental note to be stricter with Yujin during her training sessions. "Not quite good enough," you reprimand her lightly. Tears begin to prick at the corners of Yujin's eyes at your rejection and she sniffs back a sob. "Master..." she starts again, only to have her voice break off into whimpers and heavy breathing. "P-please let me taste myself on your fingers. I know I've been a dirty whore but you take such good care of me and my needy pussy. And I-I'm sorry for making a mess on your fingers but please, please let me clean them." Her words are rushed and desperate as she begs for your approval.

You're amazed at how well Yujin can act in these moments, pulling out all the stops to get what she wants. You suppose the intense teasing and edging you subject her to only adds to the sincerity in her words. Finally, you hold your fingers out to her, tracing teasing circles on her lips. Yujin obediently parts her mouth and takes your digits inside, her tongue swirling and dancing along the surface with eager diligence. She sucks harder, hollowing her cheeks and drawing your fingers deeper, until a low moan escapes from deep within her throat, causing a pleasurable vibration against your skin. Her gag reflex kicks in when the knuckles of your fist brush against the soft palate of her mouth, but she pushes through it, determined to please you.

As you slowly withdraw your fingers from her quivering, red lips, a slick sound echoes throughout the room. Your eyes are dark with hunger as you gaze down at Yujin, who looks up at you with adoration and submission. "How does your sweet pussy taste today, my little puppy?" you ask in a low, commanding voice.

Her breath hitches at your words, her eyes fluttering shut before she responds, "It tastes so good, Master, thank you, thank you. My pussy is always fresh and sweet for you."

You take a moment to taste her yourself and confirm her words—she's right. You continue. "You don't look satisfied. What is it that you really want?"

Her hand trembles as she reaches out to touch yours. "Please, sir," she begs in a hushed tone, "knock me up. I want your cum inside me so badly." Her cheeks flush with arousal as she continues, "I know I can be a naughty puppy sometimes, but my pussy is dripping wet and begging for every drop of your seed. I need to be bred by your big and thick cock... by my perfect Master's cock. It's unmatched and I couldn't even imagine wanting anyone else."

Yujin's grip on your hand tightens and her entire body quivers with anticipation, her eyes widening and mouth slightly agape as she takes deep breaths. She may look like a mess right now, but she's your mess and you love every inch of her in this moment.

Her breath catches in her throat as she confesses, her voice trembling with raw desire. "You're all I ever think about when I touch myself," she admits, the words pouring out of her in a torrent of pure desperation. "And I always pretend it's you who brings me pleasure, not my stupid toys when you're away at work." A deep blush spreads across her cheeks as she continues, "You own me, Master... and you own my pussy. Please cum inside me and make it yours forever."

Yujin falls silent after her confession, her face beet red. But she can't tear her gaze away from yours, as if seeking your approval and permission for her deepest desires.

"Yujin, puppy, are you sure? Once I breed you, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop breeding you." A wicked smile crosses your face as you continue, "I'm going to fuck you raw every single day and make sure to get you pregnant with my pups. It's going to be nonstop baby-making from now on. Do you understand?"

Yujin nods, her messy hair bouncing around as she lets out a small bark of excitement. Her big eyes are wide and pleading, begging for your touch.

You coo softly, a smile playing on your lips as you stroke Yujin's head with affection. You reach over the side of the bed and retrieve the familiar black leather collar, adorned with the word "Puppy." Yujin's eyes light up at the sight of her reward, and she sits patiently as you slip it around her neck, locking it in place.

"From now on, you're not just wearing the collar at home anymore," you explain. "But that doesn't matter right? You're my breedslut, so I might as well keep you leashed to the bed."

Yujin shivers at the idea, and you can feel your desire growing as your fingers brush against her skin. Gripping her hair firmly, you yank her head upward, making sure her gaze remains locked on yours.

"This means you belong to me at all times, Yujin," you growl. "You are mine, and no one else's. Do you understand?"

Release your grip, and Yujin sinks back down to her knees in front of your erection standing tall. You've never seen her so nervous about giving you head, but her determination is evident. She opens her pretty, plump lips to reveal the pink interior of her warm mouth, but all you feel is warm breaths.

Yujin moves closer to you, her body radiating heat and anticipation as she guides your throbbing cock toward her lips with a gentle hand at its base. She gives the head a teasing kiss before taking it into her mouth, eliciting a deep, primal moan from deep within your throat.

As she sucks you off, you can feel her soft, wet tongue swirling and spiraling around your shaft, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from you. Every now and then, she comes up for air with a gasp, before eagerly diving back down to continue pleasuring you. Yujin is a true cocksucker, and she loves every second of it. Her eyes water as she deepthroats your cock with determination, refusing to stop even as it triggers her gag reflex.

"Such a good girl," you say, running your fingers through her hair as you thrust deeper into her throat. "You're my obedient little puppy, aren't you?"

Yujin's eyes roll back in ecstasy as she feels your cock filling her mouth and pushing against the back of her throat. With strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cockhead, she looks up at you with a mix of desire and submission.

"Yes, I'm your good puppy," she says in a raspy voice, still gagging on your cock, a few nervous giggles, a few woofs for good measure, even as tears run down her cheeks. "I'm your slutty little puppy girl, and I love your cock and I need your cock and I'm going to suck it forever." And she's back to work, sucking and licking and gagging on your dick as if this is the only thing that matters to her in life.

Yujin's technique is nothing short of impressive, utilizing all of her skills to bring you closer to the peak. Every move is calculated and precise, expertly designed to pleasure you in ways you've never experienced before. You firmly hold her head down, using her as your own personal fleshlight as you give rough thrusts into her warm, welcoming mouth. Yujin struggles for air but never pulls away, fully submitting to your desires. Her delicate hands reach up to massage your balls, adding an electrifying sensation to the already intense experience.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the brink, ready to explode down her throat at any moment. However, despite your animalistic instincts, every neuron firing within you is focused on breeding rather than covering her face and tongue with your seed. You know that it would be a waste to release such high-quality, potent cum anywhere other than inside her womb. Your rational brain understands this logic, even as your body screams for release.

Yujin will have plenty of time in her life to service you with her mouth; for now, her womb is more valuable in housing your powerful seed. Both your mind and body are in agreement on what they want - and right now, it's nowhere near Yujin's throat. As she continues to suckle on your throbbing member, you pull away from her grasp. Your hips ache with desire and a sense of incompleteness without Yujin's perfect mouth pleasuring you, yet the rush of power coursing through your body is almost intoxicating.

"Puppy, on the bed. Now."

Yujin scrambles to her feet, climbs onto the mattress. "What position, Master? Where do you want me?"

"On your back," you growl, pulling Yujin by her hair onto the bed so that her body is flat against the soft sheets. Her head falls onto the pillows behind her as she looks up at you with wide, waiting eyes."Good girl. Now lift your legs and spread them wide for me."

She immediately obeys, bending her knees and exposing her wet slit to you. You take her ankles and bring them behind her head, folding the girl in half so that you can truly mate-press her, pin her down with your body weight. Her pussy lips are engorged and puffy, and her clitoris protrudes from beneath the hood, throbbing with arousal. She opens her pretty labia wider with two fingers. The pink hole looks small enough that you would be unsure how you'd fit, even though you've fit in there plenty of times, more than you can count.

"L-look, at it, D-Daddy," Yujin stutters. "You're not just my Master, you're gonna be m-my Daddy, too."

With a low growl, you press your aching cock against Yujin's slick entrance. "You want it that bad? Beg for it."

Yujin whimpers and bucks her hips, trying to get more of you inside her. Yujin's voice fills with needy pleading. "Daddy, please, I'll do anything for you. Please, I need your cock more than anything."

"Anything?" you ask, your smirk widening.

Yujin nods eagerly, her hips bucking against yours. "Yes Master, anything! I'll do whatever you want. Just breed me like the slutty little puppy I am."

A wicked thought crosses your mind as you watch her squirm beneath you. "What if I tie you up like this and leave you here, completely at my mercy? You'll be spread open and exposed, unable to move until I decide to fill you."

Yujin gasps and moans at the idea, her body trembling with excitement. "Oh god, yes! Please do that! I'll be your fleshlight, whenever, always, please, just cum in me right now!"

An evil grin spreads across your face as you thrust into her harder, reveling in the power and control you have over her.

You slide your cock into her slowly, savoring every inch of her tightness. Her warmth envelopes you and it feels like heaven subverting God in its perfection.

Yujin's breath catches in her throat as she feels you finally sink deep inside of her, a long, primal moan escaping her lips. Her body trembles with pleasure and relief as she cries out, "Yes Daddy, I need to be bred!" With each thrust, she lifts her hips off the bed in search of more depth.

But you take control, refusing to let her dictate the pace. Your movements are strong and forceful, slamming into her again and again, igniting screams of ecstasy from her throat. "You're a breeding slut," you growl as you continue to drive into her slick heat. "My breeding slut. Mine." Her body quivers with each powerful thrust, unable to resist your dominance.

With a firm grasp on her ankles, you pull Yujin's legs down to either side of your body, opening her up completely for your pleasure. Her tight pussy squeezes around you with each thrust, driving you wild with desire. "When your breasts are swollen and full," you whisper in her ear, "I'll milk them like a cow and make you drink your own cream."

Her mouth falls open in bliss as she listens to your dirty talk. "Oh god yes!" she cries, her eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy. "Master, please breed me! Milk me! N-need it, so, so bad, mmfh, fuck!"

With each forceful thrust, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoes throughout the room. Waves of pleasure course through both your bodies as you ravage her cunt without mercy. The sight of her spread open and vulnerable beneath you is almost overwhelming. To distract yourself from the intensity, you roughly slap and squeeze her breasts, relishing in the satisfying jiggles and leaving red marks in their wake. "Puppy loves being punished, doesn't she?" you taunt, reveling in her screams of pleasure mixed with pain.

As her moans crescendo and transform into frenzied screams, you instinctively cover her mouth, despite earlier boasts of being as loud as you both want. Seeing your girlfriend in such a state of ecstasy (eyes rolled back in pleasure or perhaps lack of oxygen) ignites your own desire. Determined to prolong this moment, you abruptly pull out and flip her over onto all fours. For a puppy like Yujin, what other position would be more fitting?

Without hesitation, you plunge back inside her from behind, causing her to cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. The new angle allows for deeper penetration, her walls constricting around you in a tight embrace. With one hand gripping her hip and the other tangled in her hair, you claim her as yours by bending over and sinking your teeth into the soft flesh of her neck. Her skin turns from its usual pale hue to a rosy pink or fiery red as you mark her with rough fingers and sharp slaps to her ass. A mixture of sensations floods Yujin's body as she arches against you in submission.

Yujin meets your every movement with equal passion, pushing back against your length, as much as it may split her in half. Her arms give out and she collapses onto the bed as multiple waves of orgasm wash over her, until the metaphor spills out of her pussy in squirts. You have to pause for a moment and pull away from her tight heat to let her fully experience the intense pleasure engulfing her. Her thighs tremble and she struggles for breath, completely undone by your touch. And yet, this surrender to primal desires is nothing short of magic or art or beauty. She falls. Unwound, on her stomach, you give her as many moments as she needs. As she looks back at you through heavy-lidded eyes, a contented smile graces her lips.

It is necessarily true that humans have evolved a set number of genes that govern their physical form, and this number remains fairly consistent across different populations. However, there are exceptions: A 2015 analysis of DNA sequencing data found that the total number of human genes is not fixed, but varies depending on population, age, sex, diet, and other environmental factors. This finding is consistent with recent work that has demonstrated that the genetic code of a given cell is not static—instead, it changes slightly over time, as new mutations occur and older ones fade away. These mutations can affect the expression of certain proteins or alter the structure of certain RNA strands, thereby affecting how the gene is expressed and what function(s) the protein encoded by the gene fulfills. In short, our genomes evolve over time, and the process is not entirely random.

Humans have been around for thousands of generations, and yet they still exist today. Why do we believe that this pattern will continue for the foreseeable future when in reality, nothing is guaranteed? Evolutionary biologists have proposed a number of hypotheses regarding this question, including that humans are uniquely adaptable to environmental challenges and thus able to survive longer than many other species, and that our brains allow us to create tools that protect us from predators and disease. However, it is possible that these explanations are simply wrong. Perhaps humans were always meant to live forever. Maybe evolution made it so that we never grow old and die, and that death itself was merely an illusion created by our minds to keep us focused on surviving rather than procreating. Or maybe we will simply cease to exist someday. As long as chance determines our fate, we may never know for certain. But what remains clear is that relying on natural selection or external forces is not enough—we must actively make decisions in accordance with our individual interests.

This is not just abstract philosophy. This is the mindset you adopt as you forcefully drive your raw cock into Yujin's dripping-wet pussy, her body responding eagerly to your every thrust. With her submissive form lying beneath you, legs wrapped tightly around your waist, you have complete control over the pace and depth of your lovemaking. And as much as you enjoy taking her from behind, this is the best way to ensure the creampie takes. It's in your best interests. For the future's best interest.

We do not dwell on hunger pangs or fatigue, nor do we dwell on the satisfaction of satiation; we do not dwell upon the emptiness we feel after a good orgasm, because we assume that it was merely a temporary state, one which we must return from eventually. This mindset is what allows humans to achieve great feats, but also holds us back from reaching our full potential. When we fail, we often place blame on ourselves and our own perceived inadequacies, rather than acknowledging external factors. And when we succeed, we often underestimate our own abilities and attribute it to mere luck. This is the complex nature of human existence—the ability to push past pain and discomfort, to push ourselves beyond our limits without fear of consequences. It is a gift bestowed upon us by our biology and has enabled countless achievements that would otherwise be deemed impossible.

As you enter Yujin's tight and hot pussy, it feels as though it was custom-made for your cock. The fact that such a small and delicate thing can fit perfectly around you is a gift in itself. And despite having been with many women before, none have been as willing or enthusiastic as Yujin. Her moans fill the room with each thrust, her cries of pleasure echoing off the walls. You no longer care about being discreet. Let them hear. This is your bond, the mother-to-be of your children, irrevocably yours.

Yujin's voice, strained and desperate, begs for you to breed her. Her arousal is evident in the way she teeters on the edge of climax so soon after her last. But you know all the ways to push her over the brink, and this is your favorite. Slowly, deliberately, you draw out each pump of your hips, driving her insane with anticipation. With one hand, you reach between her legs and toy with her clit, rubbing circles over the swollen bud and teasing it relentlessly. Your other hand wraps around her smooth neck, squeezing just enough to restrict her breathing as you pound into her desperately. She whimpers and whines, struggling for air, her wide eyes staring up at you in shock.

"I'm going to knock you up, puppy," you growl into Yujin's ear. Her body trembles with ecstasy as your cock thrusts deep within her, giving no mercy as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure racks through her, legs kicking wildly.

Humans are social creatures, defined by communication, which most commonly takes the form of exchange: exchange of ideas between individuals—we invented language for it—exchange of goods or resources, even exchange of genetic information through intercourse. This is the fundamental mechanism by which our species has survived and thrived for thousands of generations. Of course, exchange itself begets more exchange. For instance, offering food to someone may result in them giving you food back the next day, while giving advice can earn you gratitude and offers of assistance. In sexual relationships, this reciprocity can take the form of mutual pleasure and sharing intimacy. However, at times, the balance of power can become unequal and one-sided. You tighten your grip around Yujin's neck, cutting off her air supply as she gasps and wheezes beneath you with wild eyes. At that moment, you have complete control over her and plenty of DNA to put inside her. Less girlfriend, more of a mere receptacle, Yujin lays limp in your arms. You feel closer to her than ever before while you build towards your own release.

Releasing your hold on her neck, she takes in deep breaths—her chest heaving with each labored inhale. Yet even these breaths are taken from her as you steal them back with kisses before finally consummating the act. Through it all, Yujin smiles against your lips—the roughness and love intertwining in a beautiful dichotomy that continues to prove false in practice. No need for words as she tells you how much she loves you, how much you love her. It is an unspoken bond between lovers, solidified in moments like these.

As you feel yourself reaching the edge of climax, your body tenses with anticipation. The sweet ache in your loins intensifies as you know that Yujin's womb is aching to be filled with your potent seed, yearning for your offering, your gift to her. The scent of arousal fills the air, mingling with the sound of heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin. You are on the brink of eruption when suddenly, without warning, you feel her body spasm violently beneath you—exchange begets exchange—and her walls clench as though she's out for every last drop of your load. And if she's not out for that, at least she's out—there is not a thought left on Yujin's face, eyes crossed, her lips curled into a blissfully stupid grin as the euphoria of her climax consumes her completely, washing away all rationality and replacing it with pure ecstasy. Try as you may to hold back, there's no stopping the freight train. Your own mind burns with the image of her face, knowing that this is the moment your child will be conceived. With one final thrust, you surrender completely to the waves of pleasure crashing through you both.

Yujin's body continues to ride out the aftershocks, her walls clenching tightly around you as you fill her with your hot load. Your seed coats her insides, painting them with thick jets of sticky white liquid. She milks every last drop from your shaft as you convulse violently, lost in the throes of pure bliss. All other thoughts fade away as her pussy becomes your entire world, drowning out everything else.

In this moment, you imagine a future where Yujin remains your devoted pet forever. The thought fills your heart with joy and you know it will soon become reality. You will breed her until she is heavy with pups, and then do it again and again until… there is no until. This is your destiny, and nothing could make you happier.

As Yujin whimpers and nuzzles against you in post-orgasmic bliss, you cradle her close, stroking her hair and whispering soft words of comfort into her ear. "You're going to be such a good mommy," you groan, a swell of pride washing over you like the sunrise. And in this moment, you imagine a future where you could stay inside Yujin forever.

Before she relaxes, Yujin gestures towards the nightstand drawer and you rummage through it until you find a small dildo. She takes it from you and pushes it into her still-quivering pussy alongside your softening cock. It's a tight and intense sensation, but one that you enjoy knowing that you are still locked inside her. You smile down at Yujin lovingly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Good thinking," you murmur, "we need to keep your pussy plugged tight so my seed can take hold."

This detail may not have been mentioned in any books about conception, but you find yourself laughing and going along with it anyway. As your mind wanders to how important this is for Yujin (and how turned on she must be), you consider taking advantage of her other free hole despite your body tingling from the most intense climax of your life. But you decide to save that for another time.

As your shared exertions begin to subside, your bodies relax against each other. Yujin's breathing slows as she drifts off into exhaustion. You finally pull out, but keep the toy in place to ensure none of your precious semen escapes. Finding a pair of panties nearby, you use them to secure the toy before covering Yujin with the blankets. You slip beneath the covers as well, pulling her close and holding her protectively until she falls asleep.

"I love you so much," you whisper, planting a gentle kiss on Yujin's temple before drifting off beside her, basking in the warm glow of the morning light. In this moment, you feel fulfilled and content in ways that words cannot express. You've never been happier or felt more alive. And wrapped in the arms of your perfect puppy girlfriend, soon to be your wife and the mother of your child, you know that this is where you belong, with many more days like this yet to come.

With that comforting thought in mind, sleep claims you both.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

As consciousness slowly seeps into your mind, you are greeted by the sound of slurping and wet warmth between your legs. Your eyes flutter open to see Yujin kneeling beside the bed, her lips wrapped around your cock. In her hand is the smaller dildo from earlier in the morning; on the floor underneath her is a larger silicone dildo with a suction base, which she's slowly bouncing on. The scent of sex fills the room, accompanied by the soft moans coming from Yujin's lips, received in vibrations by your member.

She sucks back and forth between the smaller dildo in her hand and your cock, as if cleaning both with fervent desire. Her taste buds must be bombarded with the flavors of dried cum and her own nectar, yet she continues to suck on both like candy. Despite having barely been asleep for two hours, your girlfriend seems to possess boundless energy.

"What are you doing?" you murmur groggily, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Glancing at the clock, you realize it's not even noon yet. You must have only drifted off a couple of hours ago—but it seems like Yujin was too aroused to let you get any decent rest. The consequences of keeping her on edge for so long.

Setting aside the smaller dildo, Yujin pulls her lips away from your member momentarily, a strand of saliva connecting her mouth to your glistening cockhead. Her eyes sparkle mischievously as she says in a bratty tone, "Master, you promised me that you were going to breed me!"

A smirk crosses your face as you reply, "I did."

"Nuh-uh," she retorts. "I won't believe it until I feel your baby growing inside my belly." A devilish grin spreads across her face. "So until then, I'm not letting go of your cock!" With a playful giggle, she resumes pleasuring you orally while riding the dildo at the same pace. As her mouth goes down on your cock, she takes the toy deeper into herself.

You can't help but agree with her logic—even with all day and all weekend, breaks for basic needs like eating and using the bathroom are inevitable. Might as well start now. Plus, Yujin looks so damn cute with her mouth full of your meat. It makes you want to cum in her throat just for being so adorable.

Your hand reaches down to stroke her hair, gently guiding her movements. "That feels good, Yujin. But just so you know, I plan on cumming in your pussy again, not your stomach."

She nods with your shaft still between her lips, murmuring, "Yes, Daddy," before returning to fervently sucking and stroking your length.

A content smile spreads across your face as you lean back against the pillows. Watching Yujin pleasure herself on your cock reminds you that this is exactly how things are meant to be between the two of you: Her worshiping your cock with her skilled mouth; you reveling in the sight and sensation. There is, of course, one more hole you'd like to fill while you're still in bed, but it can wait till after breakfast. For now, you're happy to let your girlfriend suck away.

The blowjob feels incredible—her mouth is so soft and hot that you can hardly stand it. Your fingers thread through her hair as you encourage her to bob down further and further onto your length each time. Even with the intensity of your last orgasm, you're renewed by the sheer force of her devotion, ever a smile curling up at the corner of your lips as her eyes water with the effort of taking more of you into her throat. Yujin gags, her body convulsing as the tip of your shaft hits the back of her throat, but she refuses to stop, determined to swallow your entire length into her mouth and beyond—she loves it, craves it, needs it.

In a way, oral sex is evolutionary cheating: A female's reproductive tract is optimized for conception, which requires a relatively high amount of energy to maintain, but oral stimulation doesn't result in pregnancy; it's a waste of energy. Thus, it makes little sense biologically for females to enjoy giving oral sex, but at least in the example on her knees, they love it more than the world. You watch in awe as she sucks you off, her eyes closed in concentration as she focuses all her attention on pleasuring your manhood. She moans softly, her tongue caressing the underside of your shaft while she continues to suckle, licking every inch of you. Her technique is flawless, and she knows it—she knows that every movement, every flick of her tongue sends shivers of pleasure up your spine, and she relishes the fact that you can barely contain yourself from cumming right in her mouth. She wants it badly, too—you can tell by the way she keeps looking up at you with those wide puppy eyes, pleading silently as if to say "please cum in my mouth, Daddy, I want to taste it, to eat it. We can keep breeding later, but I need this right now."

You can tell that she's not going to let up until you finish in her mouth, so there's no point in trying to hold on. You let yourself fall over the precipice, and you groan loudly, your hips jerking forward involuntarily as you erupt, shooting hot jets of your semen straight down into her stomach, as her own orgasm hits her hard—she's already so turned on that the feeling of your seed splattering into her stomach sets off her own climax immediately after yours, and her body shakes and trembles.

You pull out from her mouth with a wet pop, your cock slick with saliva as it slips free—it's hard again already. Yujin is panting heavily, her body flushed pink from arousal and exertion. Her eyes are wide and bright, and they're locked onto you, watching every little motion you make as if afraid to miss a single thing.

"Yujin. We're getting lunch. Then we're fucking in the kitchen." She beams and jumps up, excited to follow your orders. You smile to yourself; she's such a silly girl sometimes. But you wouldn't trade her for anything in the world.

You get out of the bed. "Come on, pup."

Yujin follows after you eagerly, imagine a wagging tail behind her, and you both head downstairs to the kitchen.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

This final ending section is incomplete and reasonably should just be cut or completed, but it's what you're getting.

[causenessus]

Realizing He Loves You. | Haikyuu

inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, kuroo, kenma

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)

song recc: my loves get special treatment and all get a song or quote of their own again but just for fun </3 sideways by cleo sol

word count: 1922 words

summary: "when does he realize he loves you/what does he do to show that he loves you?"

little bit of crack? nekoma performs a psychology experiment (??) i just had a little bit of fun writing this and projecting onto like all of them <3 but i just love them all sm and i'm making up for not including kenma in my last post mb guys

akaashi

"don't shorten your speech. i love your details."

if you thought he paid attention to bokuto, you’re not ready for what he gives you

he gives you everything <3 anything you could ever ask for, he’ll get you it

he’s always hoping to see you, when he hears a door open, he looks up, hoping it might just happen to be you

it doesn’t click at first that he’s purposely looking out for you on instinct, but he starts to realize it as he finds himself orbiting around you more and more

he gives you his full attention whenever you say something, and if you get sidetracked or forget what you’re talking about, you best believe he remembers what you’ve already said and will try and prompt your memory by explaining what you’ve already told him

will also check in and remember things that you have said in the past, like you told him about a new book you were reading and the next time he sees you, he’ll ask you how it's going. or if you guys are too busy and he doesn’t ask you about it then, he’ll ask you about it another time he sees you. but either way, it always surprises you and touches your heart when he remembers <3

you best believe he’s always making time for you too

burst into the gym, his classroom, or bedroom and he’s already dropping everything for you

“keiji, you’ll never guess what happened!”

“what happened, love?”

the moment he probably fully realized how much he loved you was when he started holding your hands to stop you from picking at them

he’s always paying so much attention to you and he cares so much about you that he lovingly tries to stop you from habits like biting your nails or picking at your skin <3

he’ll notice that you’re doing it when you’re sitting beside him and with all the care in the world he’ll be gently holding your hands, running his own pretty fingers along them and rubbing them

you know he’s doing it to stop you and help you but you’ll pout, saying, “that’s not fair, keiji, you pick at your fingers too :( ”

but he’ll only smile as he takes his eyes off his fingers playing with yours to look at you, “i know. but you're not allowed to because i love you.”

bokuto

everyone adores you (at least i do)

he couldn’t stop talking about you

he didn’t do it on purpose, but genuinely just kept bringing you up to everyone because you’re his everything <3

he does it with such love and adoration, the biggest smile on his face that no one can say no to him or interrupt him, they just keep listening

in all sorts of conversations, he’ll find a way to bring you into it and people know that if he doesn’t have practice, there’s a 99% he’s with you (that 1% is simply when it’s absolutely impossible for him to be with you

if anyone ever asks him what he did over the weekend, he’s always mentioning you, “my weekend? oh, my girlfriend and I…” 

he has literally no reason to be vague he’s so proud of you and to be your boyfriend he’ll say it whenever he can <3

and just like how his his energy and determination is contagious on the court, so is his happiness when he talks about you

at some point someone on the team brought it up with a grin on their face to match his purely joyous one,

“man, you really love her, don’t you?”

he’d already thought about it a ton before, but to hear someone say it for the first time, it felt different

his face felt a little warm but he couldn’t help but nod,

“i do. i love her.”

oikawa

"jupiter couldn't keep me from you / oh, i'm yours."

he realizes it when seeing you makes him flustered and he can’t stop thinking about you

definitely talks about you a lot to anyone who he can get to listen

like it’s worse than bokuto

but it goes past that, you’re on his mind all the time, throughout his classes and afterschool

and this is NOT basic i swear let me explain

he’s smiling stupidly to himself all throughout the day, his head filled with moments he’s had with you

they’re just showing up in his head without him even trying but he’s not complaining

he’ll see you in the halls and he just can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face

he’ll be listening to songs and suddenly he’s relating them all to you, asap he started making a playlist for you as soon as he became the slightest bit interested in you, he just couldn’t stop thinking about you but at first he thought it was just normal

but then he’s there, helping clean the floors after volleyball practice and he’s in his own head, a lovesick smile on his face and his heart brimming with adoration for you

seijoh 4 is looking at the scene in confusion and worry, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the sight

“is he really that happy to be cleaning the floors?”

“maybe he’s imagining that his serve had hit kageyama in the face and not yahaba??”

“it irks me. trashykawa if you don’t wipe that stupid grin off your face–”

suddenly maki and mattsun are holding iwa back by the arms from marching over to the boy who's still stuck in his own world, smiling with a mop in hand

eventually maki pieces it together, the three of them approaching the boy once iwa has found the will to keep the rage inside again <3

“whose the lucky girl that’s got you smiling like that?” he asked with a taunting smile

to his surprise, tooru was completely transparent, no jokes or comebacks, a pink hue dusting his cheeks as he rested his chin on the handle of the mop with the same lopsided smile as always, “this girl i’ve been seeing…god, i think i love her.”

iwaizumi

"calling my lover 'mine' but not in the way that my toothbrush or notebook are mine, mine in the way my neighborhood is mine, and also everybody else's, 'mine' like mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love. 'mine' not like possession but devotion."

he realized he loved you when he found that he just wanted to do everything for you

the definition of “i know u can do it urself but let me spoil u <3”

he has a list of everything you like so that he always knew what to get you

he’s always coming up with special plans and gifts for anniversaries, birthdays and holidays

i just know he comes up with the best ideas

and i know everyone says this BUT HE’S SO walking on the open side of the sidewalk to guard you from passing cars omg <3

definitely a man whose skipping whatever he has going on that day to take care of you when you get sick or if you’re taking a mental health day

he just wants to make sure you’re completely taken care of and that you know how much you mean to him <3 he’s always reassuring you when you have even the slightest doubt that you are not and will never be an inconvenience or anything of the sort

is 100% holding your bag when you guys are walking at school

and ofc is holding your bags if you guys go out shopping is that even a question??

he’s always asking to take you out places and do something with you

unless you catch him in a gracious mood and give him three good reasons why he shouldn’t pay for something for you, you’re not winning

he’s paying and he’s happy to <3 if you’re really adamant about it, he’ll let you pay (sometimes) but will still try to get you to at least split it

he loves you so much he will give himself wholly to you whenever you ask for it

he can go from completely abusing oikawa to holding you so gently and speaking softly and lovingly in a split second <3

recovering from his beating, oikawa approached iwa again, as you left to take care of something else, “she’s really got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

iwa only continued to watch your leaving figure, “i guess so. but i’d burn the world for her if she asked.”

kuroo

"hold on. hold on. i have to protest. do you think i would choose to live without you?"

he shows how much he cares for you by always making you his first priority

he’s always with you and always on time for you

it didn’t really click with him at first but he realized he loved you when he was thinking so much about making sure you knew that you were cared for and that you deserved nothing short of the best, including a man that is always there for you

i feel like tetsuro (with love) is the type of man who shows up late to things unapologetically at least ever so often

but never when it comes to you

expect him to always be there on an agreed time if not earlier

as researchers (the nekoma volleyball team) found in their experiment (completely unbiased and empirical), by just saying that the group was going to hang out and that you were going to be there, he was guaranteed to show up on time. but any other time, if you weren’t involved, there was a chance he was showing up at least 10 minutes late

(kenma was most certainly their control group to see what tetsuro’s normal behavior was for the people closest to him <3)

when yamamoto presented these findings to tetsuro himself, he simply shrugged

“so you’ll show up completely ready, hair styled and all for her but when it comes to us you come looking like a tornado hit you in the two blocks it takes to get to the convenience store and it set you back like 10 minutes??”

“well duh, i love her, not you.”

kenma

"so you see her / she's over in the corner / and you can't ignore her / there must be a reason"

he realized he loved you when he noticed that he was always keeping an ear open to listen for you 

he’s not used to really working with others. like he’s either listened to (ie. brain of his team) or he’s working independently because he’s not going through the effort of putting up with people

you and kuroo on a good day are the exceptions

bc with you, it’s like he wants to hear from you

he doesn’t often love talking to people, and he hates when people interrupt him when he’s doing something, but when he’s playing games and you're around, he has one side of his headphones pushed behind his ear in case you say something to him

even before you guys were dating, when he sat next to you in class, because you sat to his left, he’d only put in his right earbud when he listened to music so he could hear you

and even when you guys are walking together, hand in hand, if he still has an earbud in, he makes sure to walk on the side of you that doesn’t have an earbud in <3

before practices have officially started, he’s completely unavailable and does not care for what anyone has to say to him

but then he sees you walking in and he’s got an earbud out or his headphones are pushed to the side immediately <3

kuroo notices this after some time and teased him about it, “oh? you never make an effort to listen to anything I have to say if you have your headphones on. does she mean that much to you?”

kenma didn’t even look up from his switch, but there was a small smile on his face at the question, “yeah, she does.”

[phoenixcatch7]

Something that always bugs me is that the way fanfic authors have it, there's absolutely nothing between 'beloved son treated and raised precisely the same as the two blood siblings in the blood based ruling lineage' and 'despised and excluded indentured servant psychologically manipulated into having no self worth cut off from any emotional support'. This is, historically, a very, VERY recent binary, as the fostering system outgrows things like orphanages and the idea of the nuclear family is cemented.

There is a whole range of different statuses that exist between those two extremes just in Western society, and more than that outside of what I already know. Wardship, for example. Fostering without adoption. Room and board apprenticeship.

Wwx is older than jc. Him being adopted and legitimised, despite not being jiang, would cause a succession crisis. By rights, as the eldest male (and prodigious and well liked besides) he would be first to inherit in some people's eyes. Being adopted formally in this way would cause those rumours of bastardry madame yu was always banging on about (though I'm never convinced those rumours were as prevalent as she believed). Jfm would lose reputation and status, yzy would take a tremendous hit to her reputation, jc's place as heir would suddenly be cast into uncertainty, coming under intense scrutiny as people suddenly feel as though they had a choice in who to support, and wwx would be forced into a role and potential future he has absolutely no desire for. And by putting him in a position where he could become head of jiang, there's the risk that he might assassinate jc to become the undisputed heir, something impossible if he isn't brought into the family officially. Would wwx ever dream of doing so? No! Not even slightly! But it is a valid fear of the time and culture, jgy just proves that worst case scenario.

Instead of being the child prodigy coming out of nowhere, the son of respected rogue cultivators so generously taken in the jiang and well trained, suddenly he'd be 'proof' of infidelity, both families involved would become scandals, even post-humeously. As jgy and mxy prove, being a bastard is a lower social status than the right hand man of the sect heir, head disciple of a major sect. Now wrapped in gossip and scandal, they would no longer be called the prides of yunmeng.

And then of course that kind of divisive succession would backfire horrendously when lotus pier is burned and jc tries to rebuild the clan while wwx goes demonic cultivator! It would be DISASTROUS for the jiang, jc having lost a lot of his legitimacy and political support, wwx's now filthy reputation being tied even tighter to the clan, reflecting on them so much more. Worst case gossip would be that the jiang as a whole are turning to demonic cultivation. People who wanted wwx for heir would be in a very dangerous position! People who disliked jc as heir would make it even harder for him! Not that the jiangs would/could have predicted the war and the burning of the sect but fr it would have made an already nigh impossible situation even harder and more volatile.

And it's not like wwx is treated purely like a servant! He isn't going round fetching tea and carrying jcs sword and keeping one step behind. He eats every meal with them, he gets pocket money from them, he is openly and pretty universally considered siblings with the other two, and nobody except yzy acts like it's weird, or he's acting above his station for it (though people like the wens and jin aren't above trying to use that 'son of a servant' thing when they're targeting him to get their own way).

Yes, yzy is deeply insecure and blames him, yes during their goodbyes jc gets hugs and wwx gets orders. They're far from perfect. That's the most affection jc ever got from either of them. Jyl got nothing, she wasn't there. Which is pretty representative of her treatment from her parents, ngl. But wwx had support from jc, had sorta paternal support and a safe authority figure in jfm, had maternal support and care from jyl (though she shouldn't have had to, but that's a different conversation). There are actual family servants (yzy's twins) who grew up with her and were trained for it and they act very differently to wwx. For all yzy throws her weight around and jfm is a bit of a doormat, wwx grew up well cared for and well loved.

The fact that the family as a whole was pretty messed up and his part in it made it worse? That's on the family members themselves. His never arriving would not have fixed that family. For wwx, genuinely, there really wasn't anywhere else he could really go once he was orphaned. If he hadn't died on the streets perhaps he could have made it as a civilian working for someone else, dabbling in cultivation because we know him.

The wen and jin would have eaten him alive. The lans? Don't make me laugh. I love a good 'wwx gets betrothed to lwj as teens and he moves to gusu and Fixes Everything' as much as the next person but let's not kid ourselves, canon wwx would have ended up whipped to death or expelled with the way he is. As a visiting disciple he got so many punishments and kicked out not even halfway through the year! Him living there with lwj as adults is due to him 'redeeming' himself through mystery solving and lwj being fully, openly ready to ditch the sect for him. Even then they're constantly on the road night hunting and lwj being the lightning rod of all of wwx's trouble making tendencies (and being 100% down to breaking the rules with him without enacting punishment). They might accept him now but it would not have happened without lwj doing it first (and the juniors all loving him lol).

The nie? Maybe, but that would have left NHS in pretty much the exact same position as jc: inferior second fiddle, unskilled, constantly compared to him. Wwx would be in the exact same position of being pressured to tone himself down and keep his dangerous ideas to himself, and NHS would have double the fear of inevitably losing both his brothers. And of course, the nie aren't exactly as patient and laid back as the jiang sect as a whole, with their hyper aggressive murder resentment swords. The first sign of wwx acting 'outside' of the clans best interests and getting risky and he's going straight down those stairs the same way as jgy.

Tldr: there's more options to raise a kid than full adoption or abused servitude, even today, and though officially adopting wwx would have made everything SO much worse, his other options would not have survived him. He deserved better with the jiangs but frankly so did the blood kids (and the mother and the father). All three were emotionally neglected and adoption would not have fixed that.

This is why I believe that if wwx had been even a day younger than jc everyone would have been so much happier.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 [Dusk]

"You're not a monster, Jungkook." You reassure him.

"Not yet."

Main tags/Warnings: Werewolf!Jungkook, Werewolf!Bangtan, strangers/enemies to lovers, romantic Jungkook x reader, Platonic bangtan x reader, eventual smut, mentions of past emotional/psychological manipulation, hurt and comfort, fluff!, some Angst, mostly fluff tho, slight body-horror

Length: 7.7k words

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A/N: Sorry to disappoint. I'm still here, oops

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They were definitely right when they said that you’d feel better back at their place.

The moment Jungkook brings you towards his little home, having had to carry you the last stretch of the way since you were so tired, you can feel eyes on you- but instead of them making you feel anxious, they give you almost a sense of security. Like everyone has your back, and is able to defend you if you’re unable to see a threat coming right away.

“Where do you want to sleep?” Jungkook asks as he sets you back down to your feet inside his home, while you take your backpack down towards the sofa immediately. Wordlessly so- but he can only laugh to himself, clearly able to interpret your actions without verbal messages.

You just instantly feel right at ease again- exhaustion making you a bit hold as you kick down some smaller pillows in order to make space for your body to lay down. It doesn’t seem to bother the young man though, as he just watches amused, blankets and more comfortable pillows already in his arms.

“good thing you were already wearing your sleeping clothes huh?” Jungkook comments, remembering how he’d told you to not change out of your already comfortably dressed state, since it’s so late that no one would see nor notice or care about it anyways. You just nod, yawning as he helps you get comfortable, making sure you have everything you need.

But it’s when he attempts to go to bed himself that your tired mind throws all hesitation out the window, holding onto his shirt.

To him, it’s clear what you want, but is he allowed to just.. let you? What if something happens, or maybe what if you’re just a bit needy right now and simply not in the right mind? And yet, he can also feel with the way you let go that you must be, because this terrible face full of confusion finds it’s way back to you, making him simply.. give in.

The moment you realize he’s taking your hand, you’re quick to follow him- his bed not quite made for two people, but still big enough to fit you both in it. And to be fair, you weren’t really aiming for any personal space anyways- if you wanted that, you would’ve just stayed on the sofa. But Jungkook made it clear that he’s interested, you honestly can’t deny your own attraction towards him either, and together with him, his pack in itself also provides you with a sense of security and comfort in this pretty confusing time.

Jungkook watches fondly how you basically cover yourself in his scent before you cling to one of his pillows, visibly making yourself feel right at home in his bed. It’s a compliment and also a clear sign of your attraction towards him. It’s also evident that you don’t take your medication any longer, scent stronger now and very noticeable. Luckily enough he’s very much in control of himself, and has never had any issues with falling victim to his own instincts- but it also makes him awfully protective over you.

For now however, he’s got you- clinging to you just as much as you do to him, having been craving someone to be with like this for way too long. It’s not like he’s got any trouble finding company for a night or two, it’s more so that he can feel the genuine connection you’re both building brick by brick.

This has very much the potential to one day become real love.

For tonight however, this is just pure company- a bit of proof that he meant it when he said that you wouldn’t have to be alone any longer from now on.

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“Uh.. What exactly are we doing?” You ask, as Jungkook leads you through the woods, both of you by now having strayed away from the trampled down paths. There’s no clear road or way, and yet, Jungkook seems to know exactly where to go or to step- a stark contrast to you, who’s still tripping over roots and rocks.

“You have to learn how to be yourself.” He simply tells you, walking further, by now letting go of even your hand, last little help now lost as you try and keep up with him. He’s not even walking fast, rather strolling around it appears like, and yet you’ve got immense trouble trying to stay close to him. Not just because of the rather tricky surroundings, but more so because you feel.. Distracted.

By what exactly, you can’t tell.

And yet, you hear him chuckle at your internal struggle- and once you look for him, he’s gone. Out of sight, nothing to see any longer. It’s as if you blinked, and he vanished into thin air, leaving you with nothing but yourself. How are you supposed to find him in these woods? You’ve got no clue how to even get back to the cabins to ask for help or at least wait there for him. This is just mean.

Why is he doing this to you?

The moment you let his cruel actions go though, you take in your surroundings more properly. Looking at it, the trees and birds don’t even look all that scary- a squirrel high up on a thick tree branch watching you with equal curiosity, as if it’s waiting for you to do something.

Like it’s studying you the same as you do.

You wonder if animals act differently around Jungkook and all the other werewolf people, or if that’s also just a myth. Are they confused about the different forms they take? Will they see you as an enemy, or a friend?

How have they perceived you until now?

You haven’t even noticed that you’ve begun to walk again, wherever it might lead you, your own curiosity about everything around you slowly taking control more and more. The wind smells nice, isn’t too strong but still has enough force to shake the very tops of the trees on occasion, letting some leaves fall to the ground where you are alongside many other beings. They don’t seem alarmed to have you around, most birds pecking at the ground not even bothering to look up at you as they search for their daily food. A large rock catches your attention suddenly, being shined on by warm sunlight, as if it’s inviting you to sit or lay down just for a bit, to rest and just enjoy the scenery around you. And the moment you touch it, it’s surface is smooth, and warm against your fingers.

The moment you find a comfortable position, its like the warmth of the stone surface is seeping into your body, fueling you like a battery being charged. The sounds of nature around you, the wind never being too harsh on you, the smells and simple feeling of everything is putting your entire being in a state of pure.. Nothingness.

Like time isn’t passing any longer. As if the world isn’t spinning.

Nothing matters.

You’re not sure how long you bathe in the sun like that, but when a hand carefully moves some of your hair out of your face, you slowly open your eyes again to see Jungkook’s soft smile. “Had a good rest?” He asks with a teasing undertone, and you slowly sit up to glare at him. “What?” He chuckles, as you cross your arms.

“Why did you just leave me like that?” You accuse him, and he just laughs, sitting down near your legs like a guarding dog.

“I didn’t.” He denies. “You simply wandered off- and I let you.” He explains to you, and from the look on your face alone he knows that this isn’t enough to really tell you what happened. “We are connected to nature around us, you know? But I guess, until now, you never really let yourself feel that connection. Well, until today.” He offers, and you nod, before you look at where you’re sitting. It’s now late evening, sun setting, and yet, you don’t feel alarmed or ready to go back home yet.

He slowly moves closer to you, and you invite him at that, scooting a bit around on the rock so he can sit behind you as well. His arms around you and legs right next to yours give you comfort- but his scent fogs up your brain, warmth of his body against your back causing your mind to start getting hazy.

You’re not sure what this is.

“Jungkook?” You say, and he hums, voice alone enough to make you shiver. “You.. this makes me feel weird.” You admit, and he nods, hands carefully moving to touch the skin of your arms a little.

“Bad-weird, or good-weird?” He wants to know, and you have to think about it for a moment.

“Good-weird.” You tell him. “it’s just.. I don’t know.”

“Talk to me.” He says, taking your words as reassurance as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “tell me what you’re feeling.” He almost whispers, close proximity making it unnecessary to talk with a full voice.

Your legs push together a bit in embarrassment, before you look down at his hands now holding yours. “You’re warm. But.. you make it hard to think.” You say. “You uh.. also smell really nice.” You mumble, causing him to smile, grin clearly felt against the skin of your neck where his lips barely touch now. Is he feeling a similar thing? Does he struggle equally?

What even is this?

“You know how.. this feels to me? Hearing you say this?” He asks, and you shake your head, though you almost push yourself back into him, needing him close like this. “it feels like a rush. It’s.. it makes me extremely happy to hear this.” He offers.

“Do you.. also..?” You ask. “I don’t know.. I uhm, maybe it’s just because you were there when everything went down but, I feel like, I really like you.” You admit. “I’m just a bit scared of things right now.”

“and I understand that.” Jungkook nods. “and I know asking for your trust is a gigantic thing to ask for- but I hope that someday you can do that.” He says.

You stare at your hands in his for a moment. At the way he holds them, fingers gently running over your skin, never demanding anything. He’s just happy to be here, with you- he’s simply happy with whatever you give him.

And you realize, as you know for a fact that he must be able to.. well, smell your accidental arousal, he’s not acting on it. He’s not trying to advance this, he’s simply responding to your own actions.

You do trust him.

“I do trust you.” You say. “I really do.” You admit. “I just.. don’t know a lot of things and I might end up doing something that upsets you on accident-“ you start, when suddenly, jungkook seems to run his nose over the crook of your neck, arms now wrapped around your body.

“That’s fine.” He hums against your skin. “I don’t mind. I’ll teach you anything I can, and the pack will keep you safe. Promise.” He offers.

“Jungkook?” You ask, and he moves a bit to lift his head and look at you from the side- and only now you see what kind of effect you must have on him too. Cheeks flushed a faint red, eyes glassy but not from tears, gaze a little heated. All this time you thought it was only you who felt things like that- but he is too.

Visibly so.

“is this.. okay for you?” You ask, and his eyes widen a bit. “like, I’m not hurting you by.. taking small steps, right?” You worry. But he shakes his head.

“No.” He denies. “You could crawl at a snail’s pace and I’d crawl right next to you.” He jokes, as you let some thought in your head win over, turning around in his lap to put your hands on his shoulders, running your nose over the side of his neck the same way he did before.

Only that from him, you can hear a gasp, chest rapidly rising and falling. Did you do something wrong?

One look, and he stares you down almost angrily- but there’s a clear playfulness in his face, reassuring you. “small steps huh?” He asks, and for some reason, you feel bold.

“I’m just returning the gesture.” You innocently reply, when his hands find your hips, pulling you closer, faces only a breath apart as he stares you down with a golden gaze. Have his eyes always been so vibrant? Or is it the light? Or maybe you’re just seeing them up close for the first time.

“now you’re just playing with me.” He almost growls, and you swallow hard, unsure what you want. In a way, you do, because deep down you trust him to be able to control himself.

He wouldn’t.. in the woods, right?

The scenarios in your head spawning like little demons make your breath hitch, while one of his hands moves to run his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I can’t stand not having your attention.” He almost playfully complains. “what’re you thinking of?” He demands to know, but you just shake your head, making him smile. “I see. How about this?” He asks, leaning back a little. “come and get it.” He teases, and you play dumb.

“Get what?” You stammer, and he just leans his face to the side a little.

“What you want.”

What do you want? You know it, deep down, but will that screw up your relationship with the pack? Will they be upset if they found out what you’re doing right now, sneaking out like a teenage couple behind their parents’ backs?

“What.. what about the pack?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“What about it?” He chuckles. “they’re my family, not my mates. That spot is still up for grabs.” He jokes. “they won’t be mad.” He promises in a serious tone, and you nod, before you look down at his chest, before you put your hands in your lap. “You don’t have to say yes-“ he reassures softly, but you shake your head.

“I want to.” You say, finally, before you put your hands against his shoulders, finally jumping over your own shadow-

And the second your lips are on his, he makes his hunger clear, hands holding your face as he leans into you, eagerly taking over. In this moment, he proves so many things to you- not only that you made the right choice, that he’s the right person, and that you can trust him- but also that you can happily let him take the lead.

Soft careful pecks turn into desperate open mouths stealing each other’s breaths, his hands holding you close to him as he kisses you. It’s everything you thought it would be- it’s all the things that Jungkook openly wears on his sleeve for all to see.

Wild, untamed, yet with a gentle nature that you can’t really describe. His pace is steady, controlled, but yet giving you a fleeting taste of what he’s got to offer you.

It’s sensual. That’s probably the best way to describe it.

“There you a- oh, god damn!” jimin laughs, turning around while Yoongi shamelessly stands there, arms crossed.

“Don’t act so surprised Jimin, they’ve been stinking up the woods for miles.” He says, while you hide in Jungkook’s chest-

Who just laughs, still high off of your taste.

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“He’ll be back around 6.” Jimin reassures you, as you find yourself staring at the soapy water for the dishes to get cleaned in. “so he should be home soon.”

“Oh, sorry.” You apologize for some reason almost on instinct, shaking your odd feelings off as you continue doing the dishes. “I don’t know why I’m.. so clingy.”

“its normal. We tend to be a lot closer than normal humans after all.” He shrugs. “and with you and Jungkook clearly into each other, it’s not surprising that you miss him.” He teases, making you cringe a little. “Listen..” jimin says, putting down the last plate he’d dried. “..You’ll.. I don’t know if you know, but Jungkook isn’t just any kind of wolf.” He starts, and you nod.

“Yeah. I know- he said something about it, and me being.. similar. But I’m not sure what that means.” You admit, causing Jimin to sigh as he searches for the right words, when Yoongi enters.

“means he’ll be more difficult to handle. Basically everything you think you know about alphas, but ten times worse.” He simply says, as he sits down at the kitchen table, reading something on his phone while drinking a cup of what you assume must be still the same coffee he took into his house that morning.

“Yoongi-“ jimin whines a little, but you shake your head, and dry your hands before you turn around. You’re unable to really look at Yoongi, for reasons you’re not sure of- but you have to stand your ground.

Why? You don’t know. It’s not like he insulted you or jungkook.

“No.” You deny. “all I know about Alphas is.. that they’re aggressive, and arrogant, and not in control of themselves because they think they don’t have to be.” You say. “Jungkook isn’t like that.”

There’s a bit of silence, before Yoongi sets his phone down, your words having clearly caught his attention.

“And why do you think that?” He asks, in an almost melodic tone. “You’ve known him for what? Three weeks? At maximum.” He says, horribly sweet like he’s talking to a child. “Maybe he’s a good manipulator. Using your innocence and instincts coming through against you. After all, he knows how omegas work, why do you think he’s not capable of playing you like a puppet, with you being this naïve?” He asks, and you swallow.

Would Jungkook do that?

But then, you remember something. “no.” You deny. “He had chances. More than one, and he didn’t take it. A-and..” you grip the kitchen counter behind you as you continue trying to keep your voice strong. You’ve got no idea why this is stressing you out so much. “and I trust the pack. You know.. you guys.” You tell him, unable to look at whomever just entered the kitchen as well. “You gave me.. you took me in and you had so many chances to be bad but you’re not and-“ you deny, “-and I want to believe that I finally found a place to let my guard down and.. learn how to be me.” You say.

“Well if you want to take a first step towards the self you’ve refused to be until mow..” yoongi chuckles. “How about you take a look around, and do something about the dilemma you’re in?” He asks, and for a second, you’re stunned.

A broad shouldered man you recognize must be Seokjin has walked in, and so has Namjoon, both having watched the scene and listened. But what does yoongi mean when he talks about the ‘dilemma you’re in’? That’s what you don’t understand. All you know is that you feel embarrassed, awkward, and in need for shameless comfort. Something itches in your very fingertips as if your body knows what to do, but your brain can’t give out the right commands to the appropriate limbs to move and do something.

But for some reason, something about Namjoon of all people looks terribly inviting. And the second he smiles with a sense of understanding and encouragement, you just move on autopilot, clinging to him for a good moment.

“you’re mean, yoongi.” Jin scolds as he sits down, while Namjoon runs a comforting hand over your back.

“I’m not. She knows what to do, she just has to figure out how to do it.” He shrugs, when you glare at him tearfully from Namjoons chest. “sorry. You’ll forgive me soon.” He teases, but you turn away instead, and hide again.

“I leave for work and you guys make her cry. What the hell?” Jungkook whines, as you look up, a bit torn. In a way, you want to move to Jungkook- but you also feel oddly calm with Namjoon. But he seems to somehow sense your inner torment as he lets go of you, and takes the burden of voicing out your needs from you, as you switch to the man who just came home from working in the city.

“make sure to at least leave her with something next time you leave then, alpha.” Yoongi teases, while Jin laughs.

You feel a bit embarrassed, especially when Jungkook simply sits down at the table with you- though you’re not getting your own seat, instead being placed on his lap, facing him. It appears that no one thinks of it as odd or out of place however , with all of them moving on with their days like nothing is going on, while Jungkook sighs, and let’s his body relax in the seat. “Sorry I came home later. Had to do some overtime.” He mumbles, and you nod.

“That’s fine.” You simply respond. “just.. don’t overwork yourself.” You tell him, and he smiles, nodding.

“I won’t, promise.” He answers, when Jimin chimes in again.

“You literally can’t now.” He teases. “or else she might have to turn to the packleader for comfort again.” He jokes, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

“don’t listen to him. You can go seek Namjoon out whenever you need. It’s not weird at all- we all do it.” He explains, and you nod.

“I don’t know why I even did that.” You say, when Namjoon sits down at the table with a snack.

“it’ll become easier soon.” He offers you. “your instincts already know what to do. That’s why you did what you did. It’ll become natural.” He reassures, and you nod, before you yawn. You’re not even tired, or exhausted- but more so you feel like all of your muscles have relaxed by now, no tension left in you. “Like Jungkook said, all of them tend to come to me for both comfort and guidance. That’s normal, since I’m the packleader after all.” He says, and you nod.

This is all still so incredibly confusing.

“Well, she is putting an effect on me, that’s for sure!” Seokjin laughs suddenly, as he stretches and yawns, making everyone laugh in a sense of agreement, while you move to look up now.

“You’re making them sleepy.” Jungkook explains. “since you’re so at ease here it makes us all feel at ease too. Makes them tired.” He clarifies.

“Oh-“ you start, before you yawn and look over at Namjoon.

“Let’s go take a good nap in the living room. Take it as bonding.” He jokes almost, though you do take the opportunity. Its strange how once almost everyone of the pack have gathered around in the living room to nap, you yourself feel a lot more at ease as well, sleeping close to Jungkook and Namjoon. It’s when you wake up later and realize that by now everyone’s in the living room asleep that you begin to see what Jungkook really meant by his words earlier.

You’ve been so busy thinking about how your life is changing, that you didn’t really spare any thought on how their life might be changing too, now that you’re in it. It’s not just Jungkook after all- his whole pack is now a part of your life, and some are you becoming a part of theirs. How much trouble are you already causing? Is there anything good they’re getting out of your presence?

For now, you just accept everything around you, and trust in the fact that they’ll tell you when you’re overstepping boundaries-

Softly sleeping amongst them, an odd new feeling of safety wrapping around you like the softest blanket you’ve ever felt.

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For some reason, these days, every time you’re alone with Jungkook, you feel on edge.

It’s not nervousness, and neither is it an uncomfortable feeling- not really, at least. You don’t know what it is, why you feel this way, and how to fix it, but what you do know, is that something about him just.. Icks you.

Especially the fact that his smirk is just so all-knowing, proving to you that he knows exactly what’s going on with you, and yet refuses to tell you. He’s going to make you figure it out all by yourself, and you hate him a little bit for it.

It started randomly today, when he came over to your apartment, helping you with some paperwork that came in, before you both decided to use the rest of the day to just.. Hang out together like normal people would. It was then, on your little couch, while watching a random video on your TV screen that a strange thought started to invade your head, like a voice inside of you that you’re familiar with, but haven't heard in a long time. Suddenly, you began imagining just.. Biting him, and not even in a sexual sense.

Just.. Biting. Not hurting or anything, just.. A nip. In his arm, especially. Maybe his forearm? Or his bicep. Maybe it would leave a mark. Would he think of it as weird? Would he bite you back?

He does have sharper teeth than you, a natural development since he didn’t grow up with suppressors in his system like you did. So he’d definitely leave a mark on you.

You’d wear it proudly. But why?

He’d asked you what you were staring at. You’d told him ‘nothing’. He’d just laughed, and pulled you a bit closer.

The next strange thought came when took one of your random blankets and put it on the side of the couch, resting head on it. He’s looked at you again, just for a moment, before asking if something was up. Again- you didn’t reply with an honest answer, and again, he only smiled and shook his head.

By now, you’re convinced he’s trying to really rile you up. This isn’t a coincidence anymore.

He’s sitting next to you with his arms crossed, and a grin on his face that just spells trouble in capital letters, and you don’t know why that makes you so.. Strange. It’s an odd feeling, one that you can’t describe, because you’ve never felt this way ever before. You’re not mad at him, and yet he’s got your blood boiling. You’re not aroused, but still you don’t want him to stop his antics. You’re not upset with him, though you’re not happy with his actions either.

So what is it?

“Come on.” He beckons, and you cross your arms to mirror him, making him laugh again. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?” He asks, and you sigh.

“You? I don’t know.!” You admit, finally cracking as you throw your hands in your lap, even kicking at nothing.

“What about me?” He wonders innocently, though you know his acting is fake.

“I don’t know!” You bark out almost, surprised at your own reaction. “I don’t know- something's just.. Bothering me and I don’t know what.” You admit.

“You do know. You’re just too shy to say it out loud.” He tries to read you. “Or you think its weird. Or maybe both of it?” He wonders, leaning into your direction, which is a mistake- because as if on pure instinct, you move your foot to push him back by his chest, fluffy sock a stark contrast to his plain white shirt. That makes his pupils dilate and contract visibly, as if you’ve pressed a button- hand of his around your ankle, head leaning to the side a little. “Almost there.” He says ominously, and you huff at that, trying to pull your leg away- but he’s got a good grip on it. “What? Trying to get away from me now?” He teases, making you pull harder- but he’s still not letting go. In fact, he’s pulling you closer, laughing about how easy it is to move you around, even reaching out towards your face-

And that’s what makes you tip over the edge.

Suddenly you feel the slight saltiness of his skin on your tongue, and before you realize it, you’ve nipped his hand, slightly red imprints from your teeth still visible on the back of his palm. The moment is quiet, eerily so as you try and comprehend that you just bit him-

Until he laughs.

“Did that get it out of your system?” He asks, and you think for a moment, until you realize that yes, he indeed must’ve been able to somehow read your mind this entire time. He knew what was going on inside your head, meaning that it’s most likely normal, but also meaning that he purposely tried to get you to this point by endlessly teasing you the entire day.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” You mumble under your breath, while he coos at you, trying to pull you into his lap- but this time you actively protest, squirming out of his grip until you’ve found yourself right beneath him, wrestling with the alphawolf on your couch so much so that by now all of the pillows and blankets have fallen to the floor. He’s right above you, front pressed against your back, while you bite at his arm, not to hurt- but for what?

You’re not sure. All you know is that he’s laughing, actively enjoying this. And you, somehow, do too.

“You’re so cute.” He giggles, moving his arm away from your teeth, before he cages you in, your struggling form trying to squirm free for a good moment longer until his head is in your neck. Something about that action alone, the feeling of just his lips running over the crook of your neck makes you completely boneless, muscles relaxing. “It’ll get easier one day. I promise.” He tells you, as he lays down with you again, arms and legs around you now as you nod into his chest.

“How do I know what’s actually weird and what’s not?” You ask, looking at the red mark you’ve left on his arm.

“Simply tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me when you’re confused.” He offers. “I promise you, I’ll never laugh, or.. You know, make you feel like you’re weird. You’re not.” Jungkook explains to you softly. “Trust me, we all go through this phase where everything’s weird and odd. I remember especially when in school and hitting puberty I thought I was the strangest person ever born.” He tells you. “I was in a primarily human school, after all. They don’t teach any of the wolf-stuff, so I had to kind of.. Just figure it out myself.”

“That sounds tough.” You tell him.

“It was a.. strange time, I admit.” He shrugs off. “But I had my pack around me, and many people other than them. Kind of like a safety net.” Jungkook remembers, a hand running over your back. “And you have that too.”

You nod.

“Do you think I’m.. Like, a big burden on the pack?” You ask him, making his eyes widen. “Like, do you think I’m putting.. I don’t know, a lot of pressure on them? I don’t want to make things weird between you guys, because I know being an omega and all that has an effect on them-” You rant, but he shakes his head.

“Namjoon and the rest have already accepted you. If anyone was having issues you’d know, trust me.” He laughs a little. “You might’ve realized it by now, but wolf-instincts are.. A little tough to control sometimes. So if you were bothering anybody, you’d surely know.” He offers.

“Jungkook?” You say, looking at him, and he nods, moving his hand to sort out your hair a little for you. “Why do I.. I don’t know. Why do I want to hurt you?” You worry, and he looks a bit caught off guard.

“Pardon?” He wonders, and you sigh.

“I.. Somehow, today, I just.. I had those thoughts about biting you, out of nowhere. And when you took the blanket, I wanted to take it away from you, but I also wanted to see if you’d fight for it? And if you did I would’ve fought for it too- and when you were standing in the kitchen for some reason I just felt like pushing you.” You explain, and he laughs.

“Oh god, for a second I was worried!” He admits, before he grins at you. “You’re just sensitive today. It happens to all of us.”

“Sensitive?” You ask, still confused but relieved that your thoughts don’t seem to be too out of the ordinary to him.

“Sensitive. I guess that’s the best word to describe it.” He shrugs. “Sometimes we have days were we just.. I don’t know. I don’t know what it’s like for an omega, but I know what it’s like for me.” He shrugs.

“And what are those days like for you?” You wonder.

“I honestly just want to fight everyone!” He laughs, moving a bit so you can rest your upper body on his, arms over his chest as you listen. “I’ll get on everyone’s nerves and I know that- but I just feel like I need to.. Test my boundaries? It’s tough to explain.” Jungkook says. “Like, I’ll start random arguments just for the sake of it. Or I’ll wrestle over food with Taehyung. Or go bother Jimin until he chases me out the pack house.” He chuckles. “I don’t know. On those days, everything just icks me.”

“So just like me?” You say, before you elaborate. “Like, you don’t bother me, to be honest. It’s more like.. I want to know what you’ll do. How far you’ll go or, if you’d..” You drift off, shrugging- but his hand on your back stills.

“If I’d..?” He asks, wanting an answer, and it takes you a moment before you mumble it out.

“If you’d put me in my place.” You say.

It’s quiet for a moment, before he speaks again- his voice a bit more serious, though still soft and comforting. “I would- but not yet.” He admits. “I don’t think you’re.. Quite ready for something like that yet.”

“So I can do whatever I want?” You tease, though one look tells you that he’s serious in his words to a good degree.

“Careful.” He warns. “But.. No. I’m still really careful with you, because I know that you’re still getting used to things. I don’t want to scare you off.”

“You won’t.” You deny, but he just smiles.

“I know you think that way-” He begins, hand moving again as if to occupy himself a little. “-But better be safe than sorry. We can take it step after step.” Jungkook offers, before he seems to become more serious. “Which reminds me of something we need to talk about.”

“What is it?” You worry, making him instantly try and reassure you, body turning a bit to face you better.

“I’m.. Going to shift soon.” He admits to you. “In a few days, actually. Namjoon wants you to be there, but I’m not sure.”

“Why not?” You ask, and he sighs, avoiding eye contact.

“Because it’s not a pretty sight for someone who’s not used to it.” He tells you. “I’m.. Scared you’ll be scared of me. I don’t know if I can handle that.”

“Why would I be scared of you?” You ask. “You told me before that you’re the same no matter what form you’re in. And.. I’ll have to go through it at some point too, no? So isn’t namjoon right then by saying I should be there?” You ask, before you become a bit more quiet. “Or.. Do you not want me to be there?” You ask, making him shake his head, face troubled.

“No I want you there, that’s the issue!” He admits. “I want you around, all the time, but I just..”

“Jungkook..” You start, waiting until he looks at you. “..has anyone ever.. Gotten scared of you?” You ask, and the way he looks away gives you your answer. “I won’t be. Promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” He shakes his head. “You have no idea what it’s gonna be like-”

“But I want to know.” You protest. “I want to see it. I want to be there.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, once more, and you nod, determined.

“I am.” You press on. “I want to be around you no matter what.” You tell him-

And as a strange expression washes over his face, you’re reminded that at the end of the day, no matter how much of a hero he is in your eyes-

He's also just a simple mortal being, carrying his own demons inside just like you.

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

“Do you think Jungkook wants me to leave?” You ask Jimin a few nights later, both of you washing the dishes together while the rest of the pack is scattered around, Jungkook especially far away, having claimed to ‘needing fresh air’ after dinner. Jimin chuckles softly.

“No, I don’t think so.” He shakes his head as he dries another bowl you give to him. “He just gets like this- we all kind of do. He’s a few hours overdue after all, so he might just be getting antsy.” He shrugs. “He’s not like Seokjin or Taehyung, who seek out the pack for comfort. He tends to be alone while shifting.” Jimin explains.

“So, I should just leave him by himself?” You ask, and Jimin seems to think, before he shakes his head.

“No.” He denies. “He’s just scared you might get traumatized.” He jokes- though you know that there’s a bit of truth in his words. “But I’ve got faith in you. You’re tougher than you both think, in my opinion.”

“How so?” You wonder, drying your hands on a towel close by.

“Not everyone would cope with this whole situation like you do.” Jimin praises simply. “It must be overwhelming- but I never hear you complain or back away. You’re moving forward despite the future being so unclear to you, which is admirable.” He says, before he pats your head. “And now go out and find your lover before he’s too far away.”

You instantly remember what he’s referring to, and rush to the door- just to stop right at it, looking back. “But I don’t even know where he’d gone to?” You wonder, making Jimin laugh.

“Just use your instincts.” He teases, before he pushes you out the door. “Trust yourself for once.” He winks, before the door closes, and you’re left alone outside for a good second or two.

You’re lost on what to do, slight fear creeping up your spine. You’re still so new to all of this- how the hell are you supposed to find him with no clues whatsoever? It’s almost nighttime too, its getting dark, and the woods are way too big for someone like you to navigate. What if he was right about his fears as well? If he won’t come find you, who will?

You’re not alone.

You’ve got that safety net too.

It’s like your legs move by themselves before you even notice you’re running, mind following clues that you can make out better and better the more you follow Jimin’s advice to trust yourself a little more. The more time you give yourself to adjust not only to the darkness around you but also your surroundings, the clearer things become as well- a certain scent leading you now, like an invisible trail to follow.

And it’s only a few minutes later, after almost tripping over some growing roots, that you find him, sitting near a creek.

“Jungkook?” You ask, and his head turns a little- though he’s not looking at you.

“They really let you run off at night, huh?” He chuckles, though he sounds almost out of breath. “Gotta have a word with Namjoon about that once I’m through with this..” He seems to attempt to joke- though you can feel a sense of discomfort in his tone alone.

He’s not wearing a shirt. His shoulders are red from scratching them, most likely- so are his sides. He’s visibly uncomfortable, leaning his head from side to side like his muscles ache. “Can you.. Stay there for me, please?” He asks, and you stop your movement, instantly complying with his words.

“Of course.” You say, and his eyes close at the sound of your voice alone. Is it reassuring? Does it help him? “Is there.. Anything I can do?” You wonder, and he chuckles a bit, while rubbing at his arms again.

“Not really.” He says, running his hands through his hair now. “I just.. No. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?” You ask, sitting down on a rock as you watch him, his back still turned towards you. There’s a strange sight suddenly, like his muscles beneath his skin are spasming- and you can’t imagine what he must be feeling in that moment.

“Not being of any help right now.” He gasps out, curling into himself. “Becoming.. A monster I guess.” He laughs breathlessly, as he almost tips over for a second, though he catches himself.

“You’re not a monster, Jungkook.” You reassure him.

“Not yet.”

You want to argue once more, but the moment he groans out in pain, you’re alarmed. The sight is utterly surreal to you- you've truly never seen someone shift, after all. The second the clouds above in the by now darkened night sky break, moonlight breaking through, he seems to fall into utter agony. Hands bracing himself on the forest floor, he somehow drags himself closer to the running water, and you fear that he might slip or hurt himself. But you also remember that this isn’t his first time-

And despite the state he’s in right in this moment, you trust him.

His muscles appear to ripple beneath his skin yet again, but more violently so- strange cracking sounds appearing strange to you, especially once you realize they’re coming from him. He’s breathing heavily, groaning in pain and exhaustion, and you wonder how long this will have to go on for.

How long can he endure this? Will your first time look the same?

Will he feel just as helpless as you do right now?

The moment his skin rips along his spine, you break too- having to look away as you hear him gasp out breathlessly, ocassional whine interrupting the otherworldly sounds his body emits while it twists and turns. You can hear his clothing rip and as your eyes carefully move closer to him, you also notice the amount of blood already covering plants and forest floor, some of it washed away by the running waters.

Maybe the flowing water helps his pain? You hope it does.

Somehow, in that moment, as he whimpers to himself in distress, you remember the moment you woke up in the pack house amongst all the other members. You remember the conversation you had with him in your home, about your own effect on others- and that alone makes you close your eyes as you take a deep breath, trying hard to ignore the iron smell of blood around you.

If you stay calm, will that help him? Maybe you’ll.. Emit some scent that’ll calm him a little as well?

You want to be of help so bad, but you don’t know what to do. You want to be just as helpful as he is, or the pack is- how can you be just as much of an anchor as Namjoon is for example?

When you look up, Jungkook is no longer in sight- instead, there’s a pile of somewhat wet fur, laying on the grass, deep breaths making the whole thing move up and down.

Is that him?

Is he really still the same?

The moment you stand up to walk closer, you get a better look of it all- some ears, tilting towards you, while his head stays on the grass, none of his limbs moving at all. The closer you get, the more you realize just how big he is in this form- no dog you’ve ever met coming even close to his size. One of his ears is a bit.. Tilted? No. It seems like the tip is flopped over a little, but just a tiny part. It’s such a unique feature that it captures your attention so much so that you don’t even realize that you’re by now close enough to squat down and reach out.

But you do reach out- unsure for just a second, before your hand finds his head.

The moment you touch him, his eyes close like all exhaustion leaves his body- a large sigh escaping him as he lets himself fall to his side and right into you, making you fall into a sitting position against your will, and with a bit of a surprise. He’s heavy, that’s for sure- his body now on your legs, which you have to pull out with a bit of a struggle, before you run your hand over his fur. It’s dark, with a few lighter patches here and there- but for some reason, you can still see Jungkook in this.

He’s truly still himself no matter what form he’s in.

“Are you tired?” You wonder, before you question yourself if he can even understand you- but he does, visibly so, as he leans into you. You’re sure you’ll regret this soon because the wet forest floor will definitely make you sick- but you still lean into him, especially when he adjusts his body to better accommodate you in a way. “I’ll stay with you.” You promise-

and can’t help but laugh the moment you hear his tail wag.

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

[communistkenobi]

Another issue that seems to fuel effemimania is our cultural tendency to sexualize femininity and femaleness in all its forms. While countless feminist writers and theorists have analyzed the ways in which the sexualization of femaleness and femininity permeates virtually every aspect of our culture and has a negative impact on most women's lives, they have typically ignored the way this tendency creates an environment in which "male femininity" is almost always considered in purely sexual terms. For example, most popular images and impressions of trans women revolve around sexuality: from "she-male" and "chicks with dicks" pornography to media portrayals of us as sexual deceivers, prostitutes, and sex workers. And of course, there are the recurring themes of trans women who transition in order either to gain the sexual attention of men or to fulfill some kind of bizarre sex fantasy (both of which appear regularly in the media, and also in Bailey and Blanchard's model of MTF transgenderism). In this context, it's easy to understand why Bailey and Blanchard were able to get away with proposing a homosexual/autogynephilic model for MTF spectrum trans people without ever being challenged by their professional peers to apply their theories to FTM spectrum trans people. To do so would require these predominantly straight- and male-identified gatekeepers to view masculinity and maleness in purely erotic terms--in other words, to reduce maleness to the status of mere sexual object (something that they would be loath to do in the unlikely event that this line of reasoning ever crossed their minds). This unwillingness to sexualize masculinity to the extent that femininity is sexualized explains why the gatekeepers endlessly dwelled on every perceived nuance and variation that occurred in the sexual practices and fantasies of the MTF spectrum population while simultaneously adamantly claiming that there was no such thing as female transvestism, no erotic component to FTM crossdressing, and no such thing as a gay-identified trans man.

— Whipping Girl, pp 134-135 (2nd Ed)

Serano also talks about how transmascs were routinely viewed as more “psychologically stable” compared to transfems by medical professionals because it was seen as “basically rational” for a woman to want to be a man, but hysterical, pathological, and disturbing for a man to want to be a woman. Furthermore, trans women were routinely at the whims of the sexual desires of the professionals who oversaw their medical transition, with many doctors outright stating in medical documentation that they used their own levels of sexual attraction to their transfem patients as the basis for whether they would refer them for surgery or not. And on the flip side, if trans women were too feminine, too attractive to the cishet male doctors, they would be accused of faking or exaggerating for attention, while trans men were praised for their performance of masculinity and escaped the sexual eye of the overwhelmingly straight doctors - because it would be gay to do so, and of course these doctors aren’t gay! How dare you even suggest that!

The conclusion ultimately is that there is no good way to be a woman - trans women are stuck in a double bind where they must perform an incredibly rigid standard of femininity in order to be given access to hormones, and are then punished if they “go overboard” or their performance of femininity doesn’t suite the sexual tastes of the doctors who gatekeep their ability to transition. This is again where transmisogyny has a massive amount of explanatory power as a concept, and why trans men do not face this same double-bind - our masculinity can be denied as fraudulent, and often is, but the act of pursuing masculinity in the first place is seen as a genuine, taken-for-granted common sense pursuit, a “mercy” that is not afforded to our transfem siblings.

This is not to pit transmascs against transfems, but to acknowledge the basic reality that our masculinity provides us with some bargaining power in medical and psychiatric contexts, not because trans men don’t face discrimination or transphobia, but because we have the ability to be rewarded by patriarchy for our identity as men - which is itself a violently misogynistic privilege. This fact should enrage you, not towards trans women for pointing this very obvious and basic fact out to you, but towards the people and institutions conducting this violence in broad daylight

[httpskuzuu]

L”m so happy your back! I would like a request a yandere! Pm Dazai (18 yrs old) with a darling who’s naïve and innocent (of course he kidnaps them) how would he react to a such pure person! Thank you for taking this request.

Yandere!PM!Dazai with a naive and innocent reader

This is the first time I write for PM!Dazai (and I do headcanons), don't kill me

Yandere!PM!Dazai x Reader

Idk english, I don't like english, let me

summary: the title :D

tw: kidnapping, corruption of innocence, stalking, death (not reader or Dazai), physical and psychological abuse, maybe something else but idk

Honestly, I don't know how you got into this situation.

I can only think of two options as to how you ended up getting his attention: Dazai was looking for someone like you or you just surprised him.

With the first option, I guess he wanted to get away momentarily from everything he had known in his life, get someone who wasn't as fucked up as he was.

Or you just came unexpectedly into his life, maybe you got involved in one of his missions without having any idea.

Either way, Dazai was dazzled by your innocence.

You are the opposite of him and he wants to keep it that way, he knows what this world is capable of doing to pure souls like yours and he is not going to allow that.

First he won your trust, it was easy, you trusted everyone too fast, you didn't even doubt him in spite of his strange attitude that didn't let you see beyond him.

You never realized the danger in front of your eyes and that only made Dazai adore you more.

He would know every little part of your life, the names of all your friends and the places you go to, he always has an eye on you.

He would keep your friends and family away from you, he's not afraid to kill, threaten or torture others for that purpose.

Deep down, all he wants to do is to corrupt you.

He wants to be the one to destroy your innocence, to show you the cruelty of the world, even if it is contradictory to his initial purpose.

Maybe that's the reason he kidnapped you.

And oh god, that's when the real fun begins.

He doesn't care about your opinion, not in the slightest, and punishments are just around the corner.

Forced affection would be a normal thing, he sees you as a kind of safe place where he can be a bit more vulnerable, just a bit 🤏

Still, I doubt he would ever let you see his true feelings.

That would only be way down the road in your relationship, when Dazai can have complete confidence that you'll never escape.

Yandere!Dazai is not easy, least of all if he's PM Dazai, but your attitude would make it somewhat more tolerable.

Being such a naive little thing, he can trust you more easily.

Plus you're terrified of him, so you don't even think about running away.

But if you were to try… Well, remember what I said about punishments being just around the corner? Then get ready for torture.

Breaking bones, beating you unconscious, isolating you for days, starving and thirsting you, etc.

Although he usually mistreats you as well, it's all more psychological.

He wants to make you see the evil, to see you break and cry.

Makes him have a mix between sadistic joy and regret.

He really feels very guilty for everything he does, for seeing you in such a broken state.

He would never tell you, the closest you get to that would be a strangely silent Dazai cuddling like a koala bear to you.

I hope you have enough mental stamina to endure your stay with Dazai

Oh, and if he sees that he's broken you until there's nothing left of the original you or that all your innocence is gone, maybe he'll kill you because he's bored 😀

The image of your friend would not leave your head. He was immobile, cold, dead.

It was the first time you saw a corpse in real life, it made your blood run cold. Especially because you saw him die and you couldn't do anything about it.

Dazai killed him, after many hours of torture, one shot in his head and his screams stopped. You saw the blood spill on the floor along with pieces of flesh. You did not vomit because of the absence of food in your stomach, but the nausea was there.

He wouldn't let you take your eyes off him, even when he was torturing him. When his fingernails were being pulled out and his skin was burning. You had to keep watching or the torture would transfer to you.

You couldn't save him. Your throat was torn from screaming, but he was still dead. Would his corpse still be in that dark warehouse? Would that be his grave? At least you would have liked to have been able to give him a proper funeral, not abandon him.

You didn't understand how someone could be as evil as Dazai was. Your friend did nothing, he just worried about your disappearance. Now, because of you, he too would become a missing person.

The tears were still wet when an extra weight was placed on the bed. You refused to move, afraid that he would take you back to continue seeing those horrible things, things you can't even describe without breaking down in tears.

He lies behind you and wraps his arms around you, his hands that caused so many murders gently holding your body.

You never thought before that the perpetrators of these acts could be ordinary people, people you would trust and befriend. But they could be, the proof of that was Dazai, someone too young to be killing.

You are conflicted by the situation, you empathize with Dazai. You want to understand him and know what led him to be the way he is today, try to justify him, but he killed your friend. The dilemma of whether he deserved a forgiveness eats at you inside. Could his actions be justified by his past? Maybe Dazai is just a victim like you.

Be that as it may, apparently you still have time to think because he doesn't plan to let you go anytime soon.

I am sleep deprived

[deathbxnny]

Oh yeah, raising literal childish soldiers canNOT be good for one's conscious 🥲

But, I'm glad you're eager for more of that succulent emotional hurt, though this one will be... different the previous ones. And without further adieu, let's get into it 😈

So, I've noticed how, in this series, any harm sent mother's way has always been somewhat second-handed, and psychological in nature. Physical arm has always gone to the Children of The House. So, what if for this scenario, "Mother" is the unexpected one coming to harm?

Now, I could definitely write up a scenario of "Mother" getting hurt in some drastic way, and Arle and the House Kids retaliate in grand fashion, but that would be... kinda generic, no? Rather, I'm thinking of a scenario where "Mother" is hurt by the one thing that not even The Knave herself can protect her from.

Herself.

Or more specifically, her own body. Lemme explain.

So, "Mother" is in a position that can be IMMENSELY stressful and emotionally draining, so imagine one day, it's about as normal as life in the Hearth can be, "Mother" is at work, performing or assigning chores, or maybe prepping a meal for the kids, with some their help. When suddenly, she's hit with immense chest pains, as though her rib cage is squeezing around her heart, it becomes hard to breath, hard to focus because of how dizzy she's become. That's right, Mama suffer (or very nearly suffer, that detail is up to you) a literal heart attack, give everyone in the House a good scare, if you would 🤭.

And so, after this incident "Mother" is pretty forced to "take it easy" so that she can recover (which according to some brief searches I've done, can take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months). And, considering how "Mother" is definitely seems like she'd be something of a workaholic, someone who feels she needs to be present and contributing to be a "worthy" mother, suddenly being forced to take a break from all her usual daily tasks must make for an absolutely miserable experience for her.

So, in the meanwhile, Arle and the kids try to figure out some things to cheer her up and keep her mind occupied while she recovers.

X Anon

Heartfelt devotion. | Arlecchino x Fem!Wife!Reader

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four) (Read more parts under Arlecchino's name in my Genshin Masterlist!)

A/N: Hello X Anon! Thank you so much for your request. I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, this turned out to be a bit of a personal piece due to me having had the experience of an immideate family member suffering a heart attack, so I put some of that into this fic, which is why I took a bit of a different approach to your idea. Either way, I hope it's to your liking X Anon!!<33

Content: Heart attacks, comas, angst, hurt/comfort, wife reader, mentions of Curcabena, reader becomes a bit delirious, trauma, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

The will of the Tsaritsa never rested for anything.

The expectation for everyone to continue until nothing was left of them always weighed on your shoulders, but it did little to ever make itself noticeable in the ranks of the Fatui. Exhaustion? Sickness? Death? None of that was an excuse enough to stop. You were all motivated by the goal ahead, even if uncertainty of what exactly it was often lingered in your mind. It was inspiring to work hard even in the face of pure agony and hell. It's just how things were. That's just how you kept going for so long as an organization.

The Tsaritsa's gentle kindness was ultimately not enough of a reason when the cold, icy snow and wind of your home ripped at your skin hungrily for more of your soul to take.

And you especially, as the wife of a Harbinger and "Mother" of the House of Hearth, felt that deeply.

Day in, day out.

It was all the same in the house of Hearth that forever kept busy no matter the occasion. You were unofficially the head of it all. Your wife often had better things to do as a diplomat and therefore entrusted you with your family from day one. The title and duties of the "Mother" weighed on you painfully, just as expected from you. And whilst you've spent endless years attempting to repair the relationship between that title and the family, you still didn't feel like it was enough. The woman that raised you and the 4th Harbinger haunted you with every step, always looking over your shoulder with that sinister smile of hers. You could feel the scrutiny in her gaze, see the rage in her grin, hear her venomous words in that sweet, gentle voice of hers.

Arlecchino had moved on from her by taking on the title of "Father," but you remained cursed. You remained in the past where you belonged, fixing connections that died for a reason, yet you were stuck with due to your own doing. There were no regrets in your actions initially, but now, after seeing the carnage and death you had caused to your own children by sending them off to the grim reaper yourself, you realise that over time, your mind and body has become worn down dangerously. You were beginning to fall apart, yet tried to keep yourself together just enough to continue every day. Like everyone else here.

It was getting hard to move and sleep lately, however, something that should've unnerved you when it was first starting to become noticeable. But you waved it off like everything else, your mind focused on your daily tasks and responsibilities instead. With your wife abroad back in the motherland for a Harbinger meeting, you were stuck shouldering absolutely everything again, not that you ever protested or cared much. You saw it as a necessity, perhaps even an honor to work at her side and take care of such an important part of the Fatui. If only the glamor and patriotism didn't melt away every time you got a new death report regarding more of your children. Crucabena used to read them as though they were the latest fashion magazine, a content smile on her lips every time. You, on the other hand, shed endless tears, finding no enjoyment in what you've become.

How did she do it? How was she able to be so indifferent and cruel to you all without feeling a thing? What was the secret to absolut absolvation from the guilt and shame? Years later, you still find yourself asking these questions in the shadows of the night, your blurry reflection in the water of the cold bathtub mirroring her image. You wonder if you even were any different than her ultimately. You felt like you did the same things as her, just less cruel, less callous. Was your care and love for the children enough to make a difference?

"Of course not. You and I are one in the same, my dear child." You often hear her voice whisper to you in those painfully sleepless nights, and you wished Peruere was there to keep her quiet again.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a weak hum when you felt someone grab onto your shoulder with a gentle shake. "Mother?" Lyney asked carefully, brows furrowed in worry at your near catatonic state lately. You barely seemed alive at times, your blank stare staring through everyone, some of your tasks even neglected seemingly unbeknownst to you. Your movement was sluggish, slow, and clumsy. Everyone noticed this, and the worry was beginning to seep into all the children belonging to the house. This was nothing like you. And yet, you didn't seem to be aware of it. Or maybe you were ignoring it.

Either way, Lyney had enough of just watching you suffer, his gaze becoming stern when you gave him a tired look. "Have you... slept or eaten properly lately? You look ill." The answer was 'no' to both, of course. You haven't been able to eat much due to the sudden huge workload you were confronted with ever since their Father left for much longer than usual. Sleep was out of the question due to the odd pain and pressure in your chest whenever you laid down. This led to you often sitting in a chair instead in front of the fireplace in hopes of getting some sleep that way... but unfortunately, that didn't work either.

Gently shaking your head, you mustered the strength to give him a shaky smile in hopes of calming him. "I'm alright, dear, don't worry about me. It's just a little stress, nothing more." Ever so perceptive, you sighed when you saw his eyes narrow. He didn't believe you, and you certainly wouldn't believe yourself either. Something was terribly wrong, but you had no time to deal with it. You didn't want Lyney to take on any duties he didn't have to yet, even if he'll most likely be your wife's successor one day. The pressure was too much. You didn't want him to feel the way you did.

Behind him, you saw two agents enter the kitchen through the backdoor. Masks obscured their faces, but the aura they let in was grim and cold. One you were so awfully familiar with, including the documents in their hands. A red envelope peeked out, a silent sign of more carnage and death raised by your own hands. The pressure in your chest suddenly increased once more when the guilt crept back up your body and whispered those evil words of self-doubt into your ears again. "How... How many this time?" You breathed out, a hand pressed to your chest in pain. Lyney grabbed onto your arm in surprise as your body nearly keeled over. Your mind was ringing, and you couldn't even hear the response to your question anymore.

It was all too much. You couldn't take it anymore. In the forefront of your mind, the woman that raised you gave you a "proud" smile, like she always did. It sickened you, for it meant that you've done something that once again proved that your title was cursed.

"Mother!" Lyney yelled out in panic, quick to alert everyone around them to your collapsing form. This has never happened before. The Lady of the House never fell, never faltered. And yet, as you now laid there on the floor, hands pressed against your chest as you heaved painfully, unable to breathe, you realised that everything you've done in your life has led you to this point. This was karma. This was the pain you deserved. Your children's terrified faces faded away and swirled into your mother's dark, sinister gaze. She reached out to you, her gloved hand pressing against your sweating forehead and tearstruck eyes, but you didn't feel any comfort. You felt like another death report, her favorite and one she has been waiting for forever.

If this is how you died, then so be it. One thing about Curcabena was that she'll always find a place for you to sit next to her no matter what. This time, you supposed, it would be in hell for the hurt you've caused.

How fitting.

"... Is she going to ever wake up?" "Not for a while. The doctors said the coma is necessary for her recovery. The reanimation took too long and... it's on her now to awaken." Lynette took a deep breath, her voice coming out in hushed whispers in fear of being overheard by their stressed Father. When Arlecchino came back come after an emergency letter practically crashed into the meeting room through a panicked Fatui agent, she found herself in the middle of a near warzone. You kept the house together at all times. But with you being in a medically induced coma now, everything fell right onto Lyney's shoulders. The one thing you never wanted.

The Knave had yet to say a thing, her lips pressed into a thin line at all times, as she silently moved to reorganize everyone and ease the pressure off of the young man's shoulders. Not even three days of taking on everything, and he was done emotionally and physically. How did his mother do it every day? How was she able to function? How was she able to keep everything in mind, do every task with perfect precision? He had so much to still learn, and that's what your absence proved him so painfully.

But hope still remained. If you woke up soon, then things would get better. Then, no one needed to be so terrified anymore.

Freminet nervously leaned against the doorway to your room, red eyes casted downwards to his shoes in silent shame. Guilt was eating everyone in the house up, their hearts aching with the question, "Could we have done more?". Yet their father wasn't keen on answering anything, her reassurance coming in the form of stern orders and a call for strength from them all.

"I see... in that case, I'll stay and watch over her for the night. You should go rest, Lynette." The young man spoke, watching as his sister exhaled a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. No one was getting any sleep lately, but it's the thought that counted. Passing by him with a short hug they both needed, Freminet watched her disappear into the darkness of the corridor, the moonlight filtering in through the windows leading her way. Stepping into the room with a soft sigh, he closed the door behind him and approached your sleeping form. His father hadn't stepped into this room much due to how busy she was with the chaos that broke out with your absence... but when she was in here, he saw the way she'd just stare at you, the pain in those stern eyes melting the ice and leaving behind a worried, foreign gaze that was rare to see on her.

Pulling a chair to the edge of the bed, he leaned his head against your slowly rising and falling chest, his eyes fluttering close in hopes of catching the tears that threatened to fall again. He wanted you to wake up so badly. It hurt to see you in this broken, weakened state. You were so pale and looked hollow, like all the life had been taken out of you. It was a terrifying sight that he could only barely comprehend. You have never looked like this before. You were always so strong and domineering.

He just couldn't believe it.

Fingers running through his blonde hair calmly is what made him flinch back to reality, his body reeling backward in surprise, yet the hand kept him there firmly. "Calm down, child... don't be afraid. It's just me." It was your voice, yet it sounded raspy and defeated, a slight slur to it from the lack of using it. Freminet froze and stared into the white covers of your bed, his tears dampening the soft fabric. But you didn't seem to notice his plight at first. He wanted to stay still, in case this was a dream. He was afraid that a single sudden move would make you fall back into your coma, the irrational thought plaguing him painfully.

"Mother..." "... Is this... heaven, after all?" You whispered, mind returning to the woman that haunted you. Surely, this must be the bliss before the storm. You imagined that soon flames and the hands of the children you've sent to their death would reach out and drag you down with them. And yet, all you got was the blonde boy pulling himself back again and grabbing onto your hand. "N-No! You're... you're alive." He stuttered out in panic and confusion, wishing someone else would help him, someone else could be here with you and take care of you much better than he could.

But once you processed those words of his, your heart skipped a beat in panic. The emotions finally caught up to you, and the surge of emotions made you attempt to sit up. Letting out a small yelp, Freminet attempted to hold you down and comfort you, knowing how you were about the house and your duties. The doctors had warned about this happening, too. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer strength you demonstrated despite everything that happened. Something which could prove deadly soon, if you didn't relax immideatly.

And as though the heavens had heard his prayers, the door to the room creaked open, and in came his Father, an unreadable expression on her face at the sight of your struggling form. You were alive and somehow filled with energy, which unnerved her a little deep down. This certainly was going against your bedrest orders. "Peruere, I... I'm sorry for disappointing you- I'll get back to my duties as soon as I-" Her hand rose, and your deafening silence came with it. Taking slow steps towards you, her hand came down to rest on top of her trembling son's head. A silent absolvation from his duties for tonight.

"It's okay. You have not disappointed me in the slightest. Now rest." Her voice was stern and cold like it always was, but beneath the icy surface, you could feel the warmth and worry spread through her like a wild fire. She didn't want you to feel this way, and you could tell that the state you were in hurt her deep down. You and your family were her only weaknesses. Wanting to ease her pain, you leaned back into the soft pillows, eyes not daring to look up at her anymore. Why did you feel so ashamed? Perhaps because you should have taken care of yourself better. If you had, then maybe you wouldn't feel like a burden now. As though she was reading your mind, Arlecchino gave her son a curt nod, which he immideatly took as his sign to reluctantly leave.

Silence now overtook you both until she sighed and took a seat in the chair Freminet was in earlier. The moonlight filtering in through the open window illuminated the side of her tense face, her unique eyes near glowing. It was a peaceful moment, despite the pain that now raked through your entire body and especially chest. You closed your eyes weakly in relief when you felt her clawed hand carefully caress your sweat drenched face, your throat feeling so awfully dry as you gulped.

"I... I need to get up... I need to go back to work." "Not for a while." "... For how long then." A week maybe, you hoped. It was more than enough. It was all you allowed yourself, and even that was pushing it. Your restless mind was spinning in circles at all the tasks it still had to complete, and you felt yourself at a loss for words when she shook her head with the faintest frown. She knew you too well. You were an open book she had read many times over and couldn't get enough of. "Six weeks. Perhaps even longer after, depending on your state-..." She stopped herself when she saw your body trembling, and in the dimmest moonlight, she saw tears glinting in your eyes.

"Please don't cry. This is for your own good. I was... afraid when I heard of what happened. In fact, I'm grateful that you are alive, my songbird." Oh, how delicate her words were. Her honesty was forever going to be proof of her undying love for you. The ache is your heart lessened at the gentle warmth that spread through you from her touch, her tone lulling you into the safety you've craved ever since you fluttered your eyes open again. If only the guilt left with it. "What of our children? I must've scared them terribly. Especially my poor Fremi'..." You whispered after a moment of contemplation. Arlecchino watched your sick, tired form with kind eyes that were only reserved for you.

She figured that you'd feel this way. You were always so desperate to prove yourself to absolutely everyone. Whether it was to her, your children, or even the entire organization, you wanted to show everyone that you were better than Crucabena. Yet no matter how many years past, and no matter how much you achieved, you were never able to realise the truth. You had always been better than her from day one. The moment you rebelled and refused to take her side on the day, Arlecchino defeated her was proof of it.

"Do not fret over them. The children are strong. It is you that we need to worry about now. Just take it easy and sleep." Her words were comforting, even if short and to the point. You trusted them with your life. And yet, the feeling of being a burden just creeped up your body until you fell into a restless slumber once more.

The next few weeks were filled with nothing short of attention and borderline spoiling from all children in the house and beyond. Whether young or old, they all took care of you in the same way you cared for them. Something you could only barely handle. You felt like you should be doing that for them only, never the other way around. Yet under your wife's iron gaze, you were left with no choice but to accept your fate and stay put in bed or, on the rare occasion, in the living room near the fireplace. Lyney and his siblings especially took charge of your care, and you couldn't help but feel guilty at what you've put them through. You had attempted to apologize to the young man plenty of times for simply collapsing the way you did in front of him, but he'd always wave you off with a gentle smile. One they all attempted for you to mirror again.

The magician and Lynette would perform small shows just for you, knowing how much you enjoyed their tricks. Freminet, who was practically glued to your side, would read books with you about sea animals, whilst the other children brought you tasty pastries and food. The house was kept spotless by everyone, and you didn't have to lift a singular finger. And your wife was more affectionate with you in her own special way. Gentle kisses and careful, early morning cuddles were the norm, despite her reluctance for physical touch beforehand. You could tell through her actions that the state you were in had hit you deeper than she was most likely aware, and it didn't help the small guilt that was still left in your heart. All she had left from her old life was you. The woman she considered her wife and the mother of the house.

And by the time you've mostly recovered fully, you realised that the past wasn't haunting you anymore. Crucabena's strict hold on you had faded away, even if you knew that she was simply waiting for your arrival in hell one day. But your small revenge would leave her seething, absolutely enraged for years to come first.

In fact, it felt so good to be alive now.

[drdemonprince]

i read in the comments to my last ask about "ordinary unhappiness" the idea of depression as a lack of agency and i feel like that is true? when i feel miserable and in pain, it's not because something is sad but because something is either unachievable or impossible (or at least there is the perception of it). and like i think that's what you were getting at too? this thing that drives you to keep going, this lack of satisfaction. i simply don't have anything i can give into such that i would ever even feel a lack of satisfaction. i've never had anything to give myself into and feel frustrated and perhaps sometimes successful in but instead i just envy the people who do have those things. nothing i've ever done has felt maintained a sense of emotional connectiveness in that way (positive or negative). i guess to wrap this back around to another potential talking point, i'm curious how you find that in your life? is it weird for me that nothing has ever felt worth putting myself whole ass into? idk, i find it envious you've got both writing and gay hypno fetish stuff you're able to just throw yourself into so wholly and utterly

Passion isn't inherent, it can be a choice too. I only look like I care a ton about writing and gay hypno stuff because I have deliberately chosen to pursue those passions, for many years, and cultivated a deep interest in them, anon.

When I was in my early twenties, I felt completely empty. I was a void. If you've read the first chapter of Unmasking Autism, this is the period I'm talking about in that book. I went away to graduate school (because I was good at academics, and I had some illusions about what a career in that field would do for me), but I had absolutely zero zest for the subject of psychology at that point. I had no research ideas. I read psychology books and publications purely out of obligation. I did what was required of me, but nothing additional beyond that, and I spent the rest of my time sitting at home, sometimes literally staring at the wall and crying. I had no friends or hobbies, aside from taking long, long depression walks listening to podcasts in order to fill the silence.

This was when I was at my most depressed, and my most suicidal. Just existing was a pain. I'd sob in bed at night and cry out begging for God to kill me, and I didn't even believe in God. The only thing that distracted me from my pain was a guy I was seeing, who was beautiful and very cruel and inconsistent, and I clung to him through all kinds of lies and abuse because it felt as though my happiness was located inside of him.

I had a friend that I wrote to about how miserable I was, and all the twists and turns that my horrible romance was taking. Her name was Heather. (Unlearning Shame is dedicated to her). She told me hey, you're a really good writer, did you know that? I really enjoy reading your emails, even when you're speaking about the most pitiful anguished shit, you really put it poetically and have a ton of insight. You should write more.

For a while, I ignored her. I didn't care about writing. I just wanted to get my pain out on the page because I had nobody to talk to, and oodles of time to waste. I had nothing otherwise that I felt I HAD to say. I had no PASSION. I did not feel like I was put on this earth to do anything. Other people seemed to have these drives, and I had nothing.

But then one day in a fit of depression I stopped by a bookstore right near my apartment, The Armadillo's Pillow, just to get outside of the house. I happened upon a book I had loved in high school, Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections. I took it home. I read it. It transported me for a few hours away from my pain. I went back to the book store and picked up some sci-fi. A John Varley collection, I think. I was also swept away from my suffering, even when the stories had flaws that I noticed. I was interested in the actual craft of storytelling: what worked and what didn't. And there was finally some beauty in my head instead of the usual dreariness and self-hatred and emptiness.

And so. I made the choice to write. I could have taken it or left it at that point. I didn't care about anything. Caring is a muscle that you have to flex. And when you're depressed, it can be very hard. I needed a lot of nudges from the external world and other people, to realize that I had some things I did gravitate toward, even if I didn't realize it.

All that time of course I WAS driven to write. I was churning out 5k word letters to Heather every day practically. I was reading stupid shit online. And when it was put in front of me, and I had no reason to feel guilt about not working hard enough on other things, I reached for books. But I didn't feel passion strongly under the heavy blankets of my depression. Or usually at all, really. I am a quite internally muted person whose emotions are suppressed. But they're there. Speaking to me softly. And to overcome my depression, I had to decide to listen to them instead of ignoring them all of the time, and give them kindling, and then fan them into a flame.

I started blogging regularly while I was in graduate school (right here, hello, you can check my archive dating back to 2011), and finding a reason to live. When I was writing, I felt like the world was interesting, and beautiful. It gave me new things to do. I attended literary readings and book launches all over town. I submitted work to magazines. I bought old copies of magazines and read them. I inhaled books. I listened to fiction podcasts. I joined writing groups. At first, it felt like a slog, like anything else. Doing these things, I was not "happy". But I was interested. I liked learning about the world of publishing, critiquing people's stories in my head, and commisserating with other Tumblr writers about the stuff that got featured on the Prose tag that sucked.

After YEARS of doing this, of choosing to fan my passions, it became a genuine motivation in my life. But even then? I lose track of it sometimes. I get busy, or there's no place comfy to sit and read in my apartment, and I forget that I like writing and reading for months at a time. And then I have to choose it again. It takes effort to care about something, every time.

It's the same way with hypno. I did have a fetish for this stuff all my life long. But it's a passion that people always thought was weird and gross, and that I thought was bad. I didn't tell anyone about it until my late 20's. I felt ashamed masturbating to it or looking up hypno content online. For years I snuffed out that flame of passion until I could barely feel it anymore. It wasn't until I was super depressed AGAIN in my later 20's that I took a bunch of weird off-label anti-depressant drugs under the table and had a weird dreamy headspace overtake me and make me insanely horny that I remembered how much I loved hypno, and because I was in search of an escape from my tormented brain, I sought hypnotists out.

And I had the time of my life. But I also had boring, awkward encounters, bad hook-ups, and had to do a ton of work.

My passions have drawn me out of depression because I needed them to. I had to find them, listen to them, and then give them lots of food. And it's one of the few things that a person does often have agency over, no matter how dispiriting their circumstances. You can make choices about where to put what attention you do have, in what free moments you do have. When you're on the bus or in line at the grocery store and you're thinking about how much you hate yourself, you can try to think about a story you read or a sexual fantasy you had, instead. It's a lot of work. But it's better work than the work of hating yourself, which takes a whole lot of energy and attention itself.

I hope you can find something like this for you. It doesn't really matter what it is. It can be some hobby you've always wanted to try, or something "childish" you've suppressed. Having a passion isn't like being chosen by the universe to care about something. It's not like love at first sight. Nothing fucking works like that in life. It's always work. It's always a choice you have to make, because no one else will give it to you. But there can be hints that you can follow, sometimes.

[jayden-killer]

HOLE IN THE EARTH.

summary: Miguel is tired of the constant Reader's worries.

next part: AFFECTION.

warnings: SUPER ANGST YOU GOT NO IDEA, yelling, cursing, trauma and Miguel being a bitch. 🫥 Also, not a warning, but I used the Y/N this time lmaooo. WE GOT A FEM READER HERE BTW!!!

"Miguel?"

Her voice rang out as he walked through the doors of the lab. No response. She turned her head to look for it with her eyes and only after realizing that he was on his platform, once again isolated from the world, surrounded by screens that broadcast the usual scenes. Scenes she wished her lover had gotten over. But it was a constant loop, and even though he didn’t have such screens in front of him, those scenes were repeated every time in his head, never-ending. Not even sleep reconciled with rest. It was then that he tried to call him, with a more resolute voice.

"Miguel? I’m here, love."

Finally the man turned, and their looks met, despite the distance between the two. Miguel had bloodshot eyes, clearly for lack of sleep, and for work. She always told him to find a moment of rest, of peace, but he wouldn’t listen. He waved a hand and dissolved the conversation. Apparently, there was no solution.

"What is it?"

She looked around again, then looked back at Miguel, now impatient for the interruption. Y/N felt his Spider-Suit tighten his body, feeling that the temperature was rising in that room. Or maybe it was the nervousness that made her like this. Meanwhile, Miguel got off the platform and approached his beloved.

Y/N took a deep breath. The conversation they were about to have was like dropping a bomb. But it had to be done. After all, it was because she cared so much about him, in a way that could not be explained either by words or by gestures. Only the heart could say it.

"Miguel" She began with a thread of voice. " I believe you need rest. True rest." Miguel’s eyes darted over her body, looking down at her from head to toe, as if they were already having that conversation. He raised an eyebrow. "We’ve already talked about it, Y/N. I’m fine. Besides, the Poly-Arachno Multiverse needs surveillance."

"Spider-verse."

"Whatever." And so he turned around with the intention of leaving her there.

Not this time, no.

"You have to let her go." The words flew out of her mouth without control. Miguel stopped her steps. Suddenly Y/N’s body was beaten with chills of fear down his back. That’s not what he wanted to say. In fact, maybe he wanted to, but not by formulating the words like that.

The man contracted his back muscles and muttered something. It was then that he turned around, speeding his body almost attached to the girl’s. "What did you say?" He growled, the canines that were now visible.

Y/N trembled with fear.

"I..."

Miguel growled louder. "Repeat what the fuck you said!"

The woman felt her throat dry, almost as if she had forgotten how to swallow. The tension had now skyrocketed. "I didn’t mean that." Bravely said Y/N.

"Then, what did you mean? Speak!"

"You have to let Gabriella go, Miguel!"

Miguel’s jaw twitched in an air of pure rage, his eyes looking even bloodier. It gave off the typical feeling of being in danger, as if an animal was trapping you. His height certainly helped him. Upon hearing that name the man now seemed ready to become a beast, and attack her. But a healthy part of his mind prevented him from hurting her. Not physically. He would have destroyed her psychologically.

"Oh yeah? Well, listen well here." Angry eyes never dared look away from her, as Y/N backed up every time Miguel took a step. "You are the worst thing that happened to me. You're such an immature woman, act like one for once! And for fuck's sake, can you at least do something right?! Or are you just a crybaby?"

Those words hurt. They stang like a needle in a vein. They almost burst her heart, and before she knew it, tears burst from her shiny eyes, wetting her cheeks. He dared not apologise, nor repent, too blinded by anger; she, however, was terrified by Miguel’s providential change and stood still.

"You and I are done with this shit. Forever." he said, waiting for a reaction from his beloved. But she said nothing. Her eyes widened, her lip trembled frantically. She opened her mouth, then immediately closed it. It was then that Miguel uttered one final and decisive sentence: "Get out of here. Now."

Y/N wasted no time. Turning around, she ran as fast as she could to the exit, with her legs looking like they were about to give way at any moment. She wanted it to be a joke...or a stupid mistake. But Miguel was determined. And when he made a decision, it was hard for him to change his mind.

Her intention wasn’t to break things. She just wanted Miguel to let go of the past.

But he didn’t accept it, so he also let go of the present and future.

[ayrtonswnna]

ʚïɞ "such a savior" LH44

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀lewis hamilton x original female oc.

summary: in witch lilith is mid-breakdown with the worst man around but luckily, she has her fiancée and little sister.

warnings: a bitch of a dad, bad parenting, age gap (character is 24 although it isn't mentioned), mentions of psychological and physical abuse, description of needles and medical procedures without any proper knowledge. just pure sad angst and hurt but i am planning to write a part 2 out of this.

"Hey, Lewis. I didn't mean to bother you, and I know you're working, but... are you too busy now? Like... very, very, very busy?"

The Mercedes driver took a breath, standing in front of the gym mirror. He rested his spare hand on his waist and furrowed his eyebrows. A call from his fourteen-year-old sister-in-law was never expected and always a worry, but especially today, it was a sign to leave work.

"What happened, Sab? I'm heading home, don't worry. Is everything okay with Lili?"

He knew it wasn’t. He knew getting her dad to visit them in Monaco was a terrible idea, and he saw the hints his girlfriend gave. Her childhood was tough because of that man, and he knew it would be hard for Lilith, from the way she wanted to make sure the whole house was clean, to the way she wanted to take down all the glass decorations.

"Hum... Ye-yeah, I called the doctor you told me to, she's okay. Just come home, alright? She wants you here."

Damn, he hated that man. But Lili wanted to prove to her family that she was okay, that she and her soon-to-be husband had a good life, and Lewis respected that. Well, now he’s speeding home like there’s a Red Bull car right behind him.

"I'm on my way, Sab. Is she hurt? Did something happen? I really need to know, is your dad around?"

Lewis heard a deep breath as the phone rested on the passenger seat. He regretted giving in to this idea; this visit should have been a dinner thing with a quick goodnight. Tony, the father-in-law, was a monster with his words and even worse with his hands.

"They had a little fight, and I think something fell in the kitchen. You know she hates blood, so... yes. But she won’t let the doctor give her medicine, and Dad is mad, so... I’m kind of lost. I called you because of that."

"You did the right thing, bub. I’m nearby, okay? Do you mind staying on the phone with me?"

"No, not at all. That’s great, actually. Do you want me to... to talk to Dad?"

"No! No need to. I’m really close, I just want you to stay with me in case something happens and we need to be quick, don’t worry. I like talking to you."

Lili's sister and Lewis had a nice bond. Lewis, being great with kids and a sympathetic softie with everyone, quickly won her over. He knew things weren’t easy for her either. Maybe too young to understand, the couple had only been able to offer a little support to the young girl since her sister left home two years ago.

With a few more words and minutes, the driver arrived home, climbing up the stairs and feeling the thick, heavy air as soon as he stepped inside, almost as if he could touch the tension.

"No! No, I don’t need that! I don’t, I promise I don’t! Tell Lewis to come over! He knows I don’t need any of that!"

Her sobs cut through her words and then right through the man's chest, a striking pain as he approached the living room and hung up the phone, pocketing the device as he entered.

Lili had her face covered in tears, a desperate look in her eyes as her father held both of her arms down on the bed. In the last few seconds before Lewis could touch the man’s shoulder and pull him away with little to no effort, the man stumbled backward, surprised by the sudden intervention but not resisting.

"Lew! Hey, Lew. Hey. You’re home." she let out a high sigh, touching her fiancé’s face as if she just wanted to make sure he was real, that there was a hint of peace. "Hey, hey. Can you... can you tell the doctor I’m okay? I don’t... I don’t need any medicine, I’m just fine."

She kept insisting on that. She could run a mile screaming she was fine because it was almost automatic, what she had said throughout her whole life. Never wanting to be a bother, never meaning harm, Lili could take a beating and hide all the hurt from the one who caused it. She’s just like that.

Now there’s blood trickling from the side of her forehead, near her scalp and down her ear. God, how he wants to ask what happened.

"Baby, you’re bleeding," he said softly, very careful with his tone. "Can you take a breath for me? A big, deep one. Just breathe, okay? I know you’re fine."

Lewis had learned how to calm his girl down over the years. She just needed to feel safe and in control, two things she never had in life. And that made him really mad about the other man in the room, but he was mature enough to slow down and focus on Lili. She needed to calm down and let the medication take effect.

"Baby, I don’t... don’t need anything, I promise you I don’t. Tell her to go away."

And injectables were another part of the problem. Her dad was an addict, she saw some ugly stuff, and now she was too terrified to go near a needle. Lewis knew that.

"It’s just some painkillers, Lili. I promise. You have to take them to feel better, and in the meantime, we’ll treat your injury, okay? We’ll fix everything." He softly touched the bleeding skin, suddenly angry at how he could see she wanted to avoid his approach but would never show it. "Okay? You can hold onto me if you want to."

"No. No. I don’t want to. I really don’t. I don’t want to, I promise I don’t need anything! I can handle myself, and if I can’t... you’ll do it! You won’t hurt too much. Do it. If you have to, do it. But don’t let them put anything in me."

Then things got out of control. Lili didn’t notice the doctor had managed to put the heart monitor on her finger, and she only realized it when the beeps became too fast. Something sticky on her back, a harsh pain in her chest, and her body unable to stay still.

"She’s panicking, Sir Hamilton. I’ll proceed with the medication, okay? She’s collapsing."

"No! Lew! No, NO! You know what you have to do! I can calm down! I can, I don’t need to do any of this! I just need to... I just need to be put in place! I promise I won’t even cry."

Lili clung to his shirt like her life depended on it, and Lewis wondered how the man behind them might be feeling. That’s it, his daughter was on the verge of collapsing and asking to be hit —that’s how she learned life should be, and it was no surprise to Lewis.

Not the first time she expected him to snap.

"I recommend you hold her, sir. It won’t be easy, but it won’t hurt, and she’ll calm down right away. It’s for the best."

"NO! Lewis. Lew, please! Please. Just do it, I’ll get better. Don’t let them—"

"Hey, Lili. Baby, look at me." He tried to calm down, cupping her face in his hands and glancing quickly at the doctor, asking her to wait. "I will never hurt you, ever. I won’t raise a hand against you. I promise. I won’t ever do it, no matter what. I am so sorry for this."

She thought it was an apology for what he just said, but it took a few seconds until she was trapped in his arms, struggling to break free, breath stuck, and air leaving without any intention of returning. A few more fighting seconds until a sharp pain in her arm. Confusion, then nothing.

"It’s for the best, baby. Okay? You’ll get better." His voice was almost a whisper, cracking and low. "Shhhh.. I’ll be right here, okay? I’ll be here."

Her body gave up fighting right away. Lewis only had to adjust her head a little, positioning her better, fixing her hair and her shirt immediately.

"Fuck," he murmured, closing his eyes as he leaned back, forcing the tears to stay in his eyes.

"I know it’s hard," the doctor said. "But you did the right thing. Her heart was too fast, and she’s still losing blood. Can you lay her down, please? I’ll take care of her."

"Please, be careful. Please," he kept his voice low, holding his girl with all the care in the world as he laid her back, head on the pillow and her hair out of the way.

That’s a big bruise; it’s turning darker than her skin.

"It’s okay. She’s okay; it’s just a bruise. She’s just off mentally."

Lewis stood up, kissed his girl on the head, and fixed his shirt by the shoulders, eyes searching for Sab, who he hadn’t spoken to since he hung up the call.

"Hey, bug. Thank you for calling, okay? Lili is fine now, thanks to you." He ruffled the little girl’s hair, who was nervously waiting by the door.

"It’s okay."

"Yeah. You’re staying the night, alright? Go to your room and order something for us to eat. Vegan, don’t forget."

Sabrina smiles softly and agrees, turning around to head down the hallway. Yeah, now things are getting serious.

"You got Lilith, and now you're going after Sabrina? Very fun, Sir Lewis Hamilton."

"No reason to laugh." the Sir Lewis Hamilton approached his father-in-law. "That's enough of you. It's completely enough. Get your fucking things and leave my house. Leave our lives, leave your children alone. They don't need you."

"Shut the fuck up, little man. What the fuck do you know about what my children need?"

"I know how to call the cops. I know how you made your way into Lili's mind and made her think she deserves to be hurt. What is that on her head, huh? Or do you think I'm just as clueless as Sab? Leave, now."

"This is not over," the old man grins. "I'll be back to get Sabrina and check on Lili."

[kitkats-and-kittens]

One of my favourite things to think about is the rest of the batfam all having their own ‘Brucie Wayne’ personas. So here’s me listing how I imagine the main family members would front to the public.

Dick

I think would be very similar to Bruce with the same air-headed personality. As far as the internets concerned he can’t spell orange and pretends not to know any of the 50 states let alone which one he lives in. He also uses the fact that he never officially finished college to his advantage. As a kid he was more eccentric and people just knew him as that little kid whose constantly high of sugar and lollipops. Not much changes when becomes an adult.

Of course like father like son and he is also extremely charismatic. His persona is a little more goofy than Bruce’s and he’s known as the Wayne’s resident gymnast, at least in the air. He’s made a habit of acting as though any and all fine motor skills come to an absolute stop the moment he isn’t doing some complex flip, or cartwheel. There are serval videos on YouTube of him tripping over air, spilling drinks over his shirt, and stumbling into several guests, only half of these were faked. He also has a reputation of being an absolutely insane drunk. He went viral on twitter for doing a triple backflip in the middle of a gala which resulted in a shattered punch bowl, several traumatised guests and a fake news report claiming he’d died which sent the city into a riot for the next 24 hours all because he was a little bit tipsy.

Jason

Jason was pretty young when he ‘died’. Before hand he was the happy go lucky kid. With stars in his eyes and more energy than a Chihuahua hiked up on red bull and pure, liquified blue raspberry. Of course you had the occasional leech who saw in some news report that he used to be a street kid which resulted in several rumours about his ‘horrid violent nature’ but all it took was actually meeting him for most to completely disregard this.

After his death he doesn’t hang around the rest of the family much. Especially not in public and out of masks. However there is the occasional day (once every millennia or so) where he’ll stroll up to whatever part or gala or social event the Wayne’s are hosting that day, with his foolproof, impenetrable disguise Tayson Jodd absolutely no relation to Brucies dead kid, nor the elusive red hood who has a hate account dedicated to his very existence.

His whole thing tends to be a regular upstanding member of society. He acts completely normal. This wasn’t always the case. He used to change it every time he went to the parties, either acting as some depressed, lonely rich guy or an alcoholic and on one particularly memorable occasion a closeted drag Queen. However one time he showed up without a persona pre made and ready to go and just decided to wing it.

However Tim Drakes insane paranoia meant he stayed up a good 3 weeks after that night just to make sure Jason wasn’t trying anything and when Red hood found out he found it absolutely hilarious and resolved to be as respectable as possible while also generating maximum suspicion for all other members of his family.

Stephanie Brown

Although not officially adopted by the Wayne’s most people have gotten used to seeing her just roll up with the Wayne’s and it didn’t take long for social media to realise that Brucie had emotionally adopted her, if not legally. At first Steph didn’t really understand the need for a persona. She was already fine with keeping her actual personality and not turning it off for the cameras.

It took seeing Jason, who was having an absolute blast with his public persona to open her mind to the range of possibilities and she spent a full 3 months crafting a personality from scratch (putting that psychology degree to good use).

She cycled through a couple. Rich party girl, serious career woman, ditzy idiot. But eventually she landed on scheming socialite. She saw some tabloids slandering her for being Tim’s ex and although the rest of the family was not happy she took it and ran with it. Landing herself in the circles of the most gossip loving, shit talking, hot woman she could find.

She makes sure she exudes villainy at all times and has been seen eyeing Timothy Drake from across the room, stroking a cat (though no one knew where she got it from) and sipping a martini. Although she doesn’t particularly like how cruel some of her companions are she finds no greater joy than passively aggressively remarking about how Donna is wearing the same heels she was 3 years ago and oh my is she running low on funds? She was born to instigate and takes every opportunity to do so.

Tim Drake

If Tim is known for anything then it’s his ability to appear as though everything has gone to his exact calculations on the outside while internally screaming and just completely winging whatever half brained plan comes to mind. But one forgets, he isn’t just a Wayne but a Drake. Son of Janet Drake at that.

As a kid he was very much a mamas boy and would replicate her cold calculating air to the best abilities of a 10 year old boy. As he grew up however he realised that he much preferred letting people underestimate him. So in the end he settled on the stoner.

It was pretty unexpected for most of his family. Bar Dick who embraced it with all the reverence of a chaotic older sibling. Of course Tim Drake being as meticulous as he is meant when he made this persona built it from the ground up. He gave himself a favourite drug, a fake dealer, and he methodically updates his account balance every week, taking out just enough that it looks like he’s been buying.

Not only does this have the added benefit of explaining the random times he’s passed out in the middle of a party or those random compilations of him on YouTube simply staring into the abyss for hours on end, but it also means he had to try way less than his siblings when it comes to presentation. If Dick or Bruce show up with even so much as a slightly ruffled collar the tabloids will go on for weeks about the mystery guy or girl they definitely slept with. But when Tim does it, they just laugh. He gets a pat on the head and a glass of water shoved into his hands and no one thinks anything more.

And if he can also use it as an excuse for a few extra minuets of sleep then whose going to stop him?

Cassandra Cain

Cass didn’t need to do much of anything. When she first arrived in Gotham she was small, quite and not very well versed in social customs so it was practically written in the stars that she’d become an instant fan favourite. However unlike most of her siblings most of her fans aren’t focused on her what she’s been doing, or with who, but rather on trying to spot her.

She’s some aloof, mysterious figure to them and she’s also become a bit of a where’s Waldo meme. News reporters will post overview shots of the huge hall the guest are occupying, the grounds of the manor, the well kept lawns, the roofs, and the internet will go crazy trying to find her. At first it was difficult but only because she kept to herself, you’d find her in a corner of the room, or hiding behind one of the taller guests but ever since she realised what was going on she’s been making a conscious effort to make it as difficult as possible.

Some of her hiding spots include: under the table, the roof, inside the fountain, disguised as Dick Grayson, a statue, on the chandelier, and somehow as one of the reporters, camera and all. It’s become a bit of a game to see who can find her first and she remains Gothams favourite Wayne.

Duke Thomas

Duke isn’t really sure what to make of this whole public persona thing. He finds hiding such a big part of himself a little strange, and doesn’t much enjoy the idea of putting on a mask for others. So he does what he does best and puts the rest of the Wayne’s to shame with his sound logic.

He’s just himself. And somehow manages to cause the biggest impact. The people aren’t used to rich people not being overly eccentric. This is Gotham after all! And Duke Thomas’ actual personality is not exactly something they were expecting.

This is the same man who raised an army of teenage armies in the absence of his hero. To call him impulsive would be an understatement. Also he very much enjoys ‘eating the rich’ so to speak. He used his powers to convince one particularly nasty man that he needed full psychiatric care by randomly disappearing whenever he was in their line of sight.

He hangs out with Dick a lot, but only so when the worst of the Gotham socialites approach he can make them feel as uncomfortable as possible by questioning their thoughts and feelings on the working class, living conditions and all the other stuff they usually couldn’t care less about which leaves them scrambling for an answer that won’t completely ruin their reputations. Although he’s been branded ‘the responsible one’ that’s only because he presents himself as such to reporters. Most of the people attending the galas live in fear of him ever approaching them.

Damian Wyane

Being the youngest meant that people already had expectations by the time Damian showed up. Although most had no idea where the kid came from that didn’t stop them from making assumptions, and the rumours circulating from before he was officially introduced range from a mini Bruce Wayne to raging alcoholic. And yes, these were published when reporters knew damn well he was 10 years old maximum.

When the public do finally see him for the first time it doesn’t take them long to craft a persona for him. Damian of course sees this whole thing as beneath him, he doesn’t understand why he would need to hide himself, he didn’t train with the league for years to just not show of his skills. Dick tries to get him to think of it like training, as though he were on an undercover mission. This works a little too well and now he takes it so incredibly seriously it’s hard for the others not to laugh.

He arrived, squeezed in between Brucie Wayne who was blowing kisses to the camera, Dick Grayson doing a handstand, Tim Drake who looked absolutely blitzed and Stephanie Brown who was manically rubbing her hands together. Cass nowhere to be found and Duke giving his classic sunny smile to the camera.

So of course people realise this kid must be the adult. There’s jokes about how Damian must be the one doing the Wayne’s taxes, about how he probably drives Bruce to work, and other such things. Which is only further cemented by the kid himself. But he also doesn’t talk much (Dick said if he had nothing nice to say he shouldn’t say anything), and a few (illegally taken) photos show him drawing, as well as his small army of pets and so people are torn between this kid who is clearly far too mature for his age and this cute baby of a child who likes fluffy animals and crayons.

Damian is disgusted by both sides, but there isn’t much he can do about it and resolves instead to fuck with everyone by leaning into it and alternating on a seemingly random basis between clueless child and grown adult in a 10 year olds body. It mostly ends up terrifying the rest of his family because occasionally Damian (who several of them watched kill a man) will come up smiling and demand to be placed on their shoulders, and other times the same kid (who found a cow a decided immediately he was a vegetarian) will be found sipping straight vodka and going on about the good old days with people 8x his age as though he were some drunken world war 2 veteran.

[ultravioart]

Bill x Ford being explicitly canonized as a toxic relationship that Ford managed to escape and return to a healthy life surrounded by family that supports him is not what I expected, but here we are!

I always thought I was just... overthinking it or something when I saw how Bill and Ford interacted, but from the pics of The Book Of Bill I saw, it's basically confirmed??? It's more than a 'deal with the devil' or cosmic horror muse, and it's in the way I suspected, it is portrayed as unhealthy, and Ford managed to get away yet Bill is still being.... well, Bill. (Also good lord the way Bill hurts Ford.... no wonder this book was meant for older readers. Yeesh. Pure psychological horror.)

Also Ford is explicitly confirmed as non straight. Either pan or aroace from the context.

Also Fidds ditched his wife for Ford 😭 ..... this is a whole soap opera.

Honestly kind of stunned. Ford was a fav character of mine, and his story of managing to break away from an abuser is pretty powerful imo. I'll keep Ford in my pocket as a "huh! Neat!" comfort character going forward lol.

Also... It's kinda nice that 'queerness' is involved with the 'weirdness' of gravity falls, not as a negative, but as a thematic point of "hey! Things are weird! Embrace it man! Life is weird!" But also is able to portray both villains and good guys as queer without it being anything but an additional factor to how the characters interact with the world. Basically. I am happy that after all the years of Disney censorship, Gravity Falls' story can be told including the LGBT+ characters for once. Also, nice to know I wasn't just imagining things with character context lol. My media literacy wins again! (<half joking)