#I forgot to give authority eyes oops

[mansplainmanipulatemalewife]

a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

the character everyone gets wrong

for whichever fandom u wanna rant abt 😃👍 HTDJDJCJF

There's a couple questions and I have a lot of opinions so I'ma stick it under a the read more to avoid clogging everyone's dashes also I'll probably repurpose my whole ramble about Trant into an actual post with citations at some point its what he would want

A compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

This one is kind of tricky on account of everyone deserves the opportunity to switch and also like I don't want to push the misconception that bottoming = submission however:

very insistent that the body he's in needs to put things up his ass

clearly insecure and overcompensating

prefers to rely on rules and codes of honour instead of his own agency

becomes stressed when people behave unpredictably

Largely involved with understanding power dynamics, not dominating them (that would be Half-Light)

seemed pretty enthusiastic about Kim outclassing him

In conclusion: Authority is a bottom and a sub, someone get him some nice easy-to-follow instructions so he can feel useful without having to think and a consistently applied reward/discipline system that maybe includes whatever passes for bottoming when you're not a human person. You can't expect him to take the lead here he'll get too stressed about it.

The unpopular character you like and why more people should like them

Again, Authority. He's my silly little guy and if you don't love him I'm going to explode you with my mind.

Common fandom opinion everyone is wrong about

Idk if it counts as an opinion but. Jean's scars. Mostly people say they're from pox or acne but like. Jean would have been born in like '17-ish (depending when his birthday is) so his childhood would line up with the measles outbreak we were told occurred in the '20s. While that doesn't typically scar in itself, as a child who would have probably been minimally supervised in quarantine, it's not unlikely that they would have been self-inflicted as a result of scratching at the rash. That would also be compounded if he does in fact have dermatillomania, as I've seen a few people suggest. They look more like patches of severe discolouration than anything with any real texture in his art so it makes sense.

Character everyone is wrong about

Trant! He's not a moralist! A lot of the people who critisise him assume that he is, but there's nothing really supporting that idea. I think most likely he's just a very bland kind of upper/middle-class liberal - willing to acknowledge that the system isn't great but with a comfortable enough life to not be particularly invested in changing it.

Evidence:

while Jean does strike me as center-right (though disillusioned with the MI), he's probably not far enough along the spectrum to consider an actual centrist a lefty dink

While he doesn't consider himself a "traditional leftist", in a system that doesn't skew right like it does in the US that's pretty standard for liberals - in my experience they generally consider themselves pretty apolitical

Trant's involvement in the moralist questline is probably related to the fact that having a lot of information and passing it on to cops is his literal job it would be weird if he didn't agree to give you that information when asked

he declines to actually give an opinion on the MI and appears uncomfortable with being asked about it, so probably doesn't actually like them all that much

Trant has a history of inter-isolary travel, a young son, and no particular attachment to the Revacholian identity - when Le Retour comes the fact he won't stand with the people doesn't inherently mean he'll stand against the people, he's more likely to simply emigrate before the violence starts

That being said, many of the other criticisms of his character (especially in terms of how he reacts to other people's suffering) are very much valid and I do like seeing people engage with him as a morally complex character.

Speaking of which, especially in fic, there can be a tendency to portray him as just a happy, supportive, well-read guy with no real depth. Even in fics that do show him as having actual emotional needs there seems to be a lack of complexity, especially moral complexity, so it feels like he's just there as a narrative device rather than like... an actual character people care about and want to explore. It's just sad. Why is he always either a throwaway background character or flattened into bland wish-fulfillment to fit into tropes. It feels like barely anyone actually cares about him even when they're writing fic specifically about him.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Outage - Yunsan

KINKTOBER DAY 19, REQ. BY anon

~"Can you write a college au fic where Yunho and San are best friends living next door to the (fem)reader's apartment/ dorm. Both of them like the reader and they ended having a threesome at the guys' place (maybe she goes to their dorm during a power outage cause she's scared, you can decide the reason she's there). I'd like for the reader to be a virgin, whereas the guys are a bit more experienced. Yunho is a mean, rough dom while San is a softer, gentler dom and they work together to give the reader multiple orgasms in various positions." - I'm so sorry ml I would add all the details but it's gonna occupy all the space :<

pairing: yunho x reader x san

genre: 18+, filth, college au

summary: oops, energy's out on your floor. What a good night to go over at your besties, to finish your study session. Yeah, right.. you studied, for sure.. how to give a bj.

wc: 5.8k

warnings: college au, best friends, big dick!yunsan, reader is a virgin, finger sucking, fingering, multiple orgasms (A LOT OF THEM), like 3 orgasms by fingering and one by fucking for reader and yunsan having like two each... so lots of cummm, overstim, dacryphilia, bj, double penetration, yunho is a rougher dom than san, marking (LOOOTSSS OF ITTT), lots of eye contact, praising, pet names (sweetie, love, sweetheart, princess), unprotected, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unedited might edit later.

Author's Note: it legitimately took me 5 days to finish this fic 🧍‍♀️ but it has 5.8k words so ig it's pretty expected 💁‍♀️. It is as detailed as I could write it, my love.. I hope you like it. Pls let me know if you did by completing the request form or by sending me an ask to my inbox! 🥰 I loved writing it, ngl... Enjoy, guys !!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The cool evening air nipped at your cheeks as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building with San and Yunho, your books and notebooks bundled tightly in your arms. Despite the demands of your classes, the three of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm this semester, balancing study sessions with countless inside jokes, late-night ramen runs, and endless laughter. Living in the same building, with you just a few doors down from their shared dorm, had only solidified the bond between you.

"So," Yunho said, glancing down at you with a teasing smile as you reached the door to their place, "how much of Professor Lee’s reading did you actually finish last night?"

You groaned, letting your head fall back dramatically. "Please don’t remind me. I got, like, halfway before I passed out.”

San chuckled, brushing his shoulder against yours. “That’s better than Yunho and me. We didn’t even crack the book open.”

Yunho put his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, I never claimed I was on top of things! Besides, I was too busy helping San fix that stupid coffee machine he broke.”

San rolled his eyes, nudging him. “You’re the one who insisted on trying to ‘hack’ it to make double shots.”

“Details, details.” Yunho gave you both an exaggerated shrug, making you laugh.

As the three of you lingered in the hallway, the faint warmth of your playful banter started to drift. There was a stack of assignments waiting to be tackled, so after a few more exchanges, you decided to head to your own dorm.

"Alright, we’ve procrastinated long enough," you sighed. "I’ll see you guys later?"

San nodded, grinning. “We’ll probably still be awake at 2 a.m. if you wanna come back and cram together.”

Yunho gave a wink. “Or if you get bored, you know where to find us.”

“Noted,” you replied with a smirk, giving them a small wave as you turned and walked down the hall to your door.

Inside, your dorm room was quiet, lit only by the faint amber glow of your desk lamp. You settled in, organizing your textbooks and notes, trying to get into the right mindset to finally tackle your assignments. An hour ticked by, then another, and you began to make progress. But just as you were reaching the last few pages of your reading, the lights suddenly flickered. Then, with a low hum, everything went dark.

You stared at the darkness for a moment, blinking in surprise. The hallway lights were out too, leaving your entire floor eerily quiet and still. You grabbed your phone and quickly typed out a message to Yunho and San:

“Hey, my power just went out… Can I come over and finish my work? I can’t see anything here.”

The reply was almost instant. Yunho’s text popped up first: “Definitely! We’ll keep the lights on for you.”

San’s text followed a second later. “Come on over. We’ll even share the snacks.”

You smiled at their texts and went on packing everything you needed. Pens, the highlighters you always used for your notes, notebooks, textbooks… everything you thought you’d need. As you went out the door and locked it, you smiled and turned on the phone flashlight and went up the stairs to their dorm.

—

When you arrived at their room, Yunho opened the door with a grin, his eyes sparkling as he held it wide for you to enter. Inside, the room was cozy and warmly lit, shadows casting soft outlines across their books and scattered notes. The faint scent of coffee and something sweet lingered, wrapping you in an inviting warmth that made the tension from your dark, quiet room dissipate.

You placed your things on the table and settled into a chair, and before you even had a chance to fully adjust, Yunho shifted beside you. He leaned over, feigning interest in your notes, though his attention clearly lingered on you more than your work. His arm brushed yours, his fingers lightly grazing the edge of your hand, sending a gentle warmth up your arm.

“Feels better here, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his voice soft, almost inviting you to agree.

You nodded, trying to focus on the pages in front of you, but the warmth of his presence was impossible to ignore.

“Definitely feels better than sitting alone in the dark,” you whispered, a small smile creeping onto your face.

From the other side, San watched with a relaxed smile, sliding his chair closer. He rested a hand on the back of your seat, his fingers just barely skimming your shoulder, his touch grounding and comforting.

“Good thing you have us,” San murmured, his thumb brushing softly along the curve of your shoulder. The warmth in his voice, usually playful, was softer, almost reverent. He looked at you with a gentleness that made your heart flutter, his touch a calming presence that drew you in.

The room filled with a quiet, intimate energy as you all fell into a natural silence, the rustling of paper and the faint click of a pen the only sounds. But gradually, the space between you felt like it was diminishing, your awareness of their proximity deepening with every gentle touch and sidelong glance.

Yunho’s fingers began a slow trail along the length of your arm, a feather-light touch that made your pulse race, yet somehow left you craving more. His gaze held yours, warm and open, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“You’re too quiet now,” he teased softly. “Usually you can’t stop talking.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you managed a soft laugh, your voice barely above a whisper. “Guess I’m… distracted.”

San’s hand moved, his fingers brushing along your shoulder as his gaze softened. He looked at you for a moment, his usual grin replaced by a serious, thoughtful expression. “Well,” he murmured, “we don’t mind sharing a little… distraction.”

Surrounded by them both, you felt the pull of their closeness, each touch deepening the quiet understanding between you. The night continued in gentle, charged stillness, their presence speaking louder than words as you sat together, enveloped in warmth, comfort, and something that felt undeniably right.

The quiet atmosphere began to thrum with anticipation, an unspoken intensity filling the air as Yunho’s gaze lingered on yours, searching. He finally took a deep breath, and his voice, usually bright and playful, softened with a serious edge.

“I think we need to tell you something,” Yunho said, his fingers still tracing light circles on your arm, sending ripples of warmth through your skin. You looked up, curiosity and apprehension mingling in your expression.

He glanced at San, who gave him a subtle nod, his eyes holding a similar warmth as he looked at you. Yunho took another breath, a little unsteady, then met your eyes again.

“We both… like you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words echoed in your heart. “San and I… we’ve talked about this, and we know it’s unusual, but neither of us could ignore how we feel.”

San moved closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, his touch both reassuring and grounding. “We want you to know that we’re here for you, together… if you’d want that too.” His voice was low and steady, but you could see the hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he waited for your reaction.

Your heart raced, the reality of their words sinking in, a warmth blossoming in your chest. You found yourself nodding, a small smile breaking across your lips as you whispered, “Yes, I… I want that too.”

A flicker of mischief sparked in Yunho’s eyes as he leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You should know… we’ll take good care of you.” Then he paused, noticing the slight blush on your cheeks, the way your gaze shifted shyly downward.

“Actually, there’s something you should know too…” you whispered, the words tumbling out, heart racing as you admitted, “I’m… not experienced. I haven't, uh - had sex.. before.”

Yunho’s expression softened, a gentle laugh escaping him as he reached out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and steady. “Then, we’ll take it slow,” he promised, his voice tender. He looked over to San, who nodded with a smirk and a glint in his eye. “We’ll make sure you’re… well taken care of,” Yunho murmured, the reassurance in his words filling you with a sense of warmth and trust.

Yunho’s fingers slid down, grazing your jawline, his touch electrifying as he closed the distance between you. The air felt thick, charged, as if any moment of hesitation had melted away, replaced by something deeper, more primal. His eyes, dark with intent, flickered over your face, taking in every inch of your expression, every shallow breath. He leaned closer, his gaze settling on your lips, and you felt yourself drawn toward him, as if his very presence held you captive.

Just as his lips brushed yours, San’s hands found your waist, pulling you gently back against him. His warmth enveloped you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss below your ear. “We’ll go at your pace,” he whispered, his voice a soft promise, yet laced with that familiar teasing edge. His lips trailed along the curve of your neck, slow and deliberate, as Yunho’s fingers found their way to your hair, tilting your face back to meet his gaze.

“Are you still nervous?” Yunho murmured, his voice rich and warm. His eyes softened with understanding, yet there was an undeniable impatience simmering beneath, a quiet hunger that made your breath catch. You shook your head, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips, and Yunho’s own smirk grew as he finally, slowly, closed the last bit of space between you.

The kiss was tender at first, a gentle exploration, but you felt the fire building with each second. Yunho’s hands, no longer hesitant, traced down your back, drawing you closer as if he couldn’t bear the distance any longer. San’s grip on your waist tightened, his mouth pressing firmer against your neck, his breath sending a thrill down your spine. He sucked dark marks all over your back and shoulders, soft whines escaping your slowly rising chest. Every inch of you was surrounded by their warmth, their presence, until all you could feel was them, grounding you, igniting you, and filling you with a new, intoxicating sense of belonging.

“We've been waiting for this… y/n. For a looong time..” San whispered in your ear from behind, tracing his fingers on your body. He looked up at Yunho and gave him an understanding nod, to which Yunho pulled back, “Yes, sweetie.. you with that little smile of yours… and face. personality of yours…”.

In an instant, San lifted you up, his arms steady and strong as he carried you over to the bed, the movement gentle but filled with a kind of care that made your heart skip a beat. He laid you down with the utmost tenderness, settling behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His hold was warm, comforting, and his fingers traced soft, delicate patterns along your arm, grounding you in this moment.

With San pressed against your back, Yunho moved to the edge of the bed, crawling forward to face you. His gaze held a softness that made you feel cherished, and as he took in every detail of your face, his smile was both gentle and captivating.

“You’re beautiful,” Yunho murmured, his voice low but full of sincerity. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it carefully behind your ear. “Everything about you… just perfect.”

A blush crept into your cheeks at his words, and you looked down for a moment, but Yunho tilted your chin up, bringing your gaze back to his. “Hey, don’t hide from us now,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly along your jawline. “We want to see you… all of you.”

Behind you, San nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breath warm as he held you closer. “Yunho’s right,” he murmured, his tone soft yet intense. “We’ve been drawn to you for so long… more than we ever let on.” His arms tightened around you, the embrace protective and reassuring, grounding you in their presence. His lips found their way again on your neck, right under your jaw, where he marked you again. He was just oh-so-thirsty for you.

Yunho leaned closer, his forehead almost resting against yours, his voice a soft murmur. “It’s always been you. The way you laugh, the way you care about people… you’re everything we could have asked for.”

The gentle pressure of their touch, the way they held you so close, filled you with a warmth that ran deeper than anything you’d known. Their affection, their sincerity—it was as if they’d been holding onto these feelings for so long, waiting for the perfect moment to share them with you.

San’s hand moved slowly, gently intertwining his fingers with yours, his breath soft against your ear as he whispered, “We’re right here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

In their embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and undeniably loved, wrapped in the warmth of their closeness and the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Yunho’s eyes met yours, a hint of mischief glinting in his gaze as he leaned down, his lips brushing just below your collarbone. His fingers grazed along your shoulders, and he let his lips linger, pressing warm, slow kisses down the curve of your neck, making his way lower. Each touch felt like a silent promise, but there was something more deliberate in the way his lips marked your skin. The heat of his breath traced down to your collarbone, and as he pressed against you, his hands held you firmly in place.

With a quiet murmur, Yunho drew back slightly, his mouth leaving a faint, warm imprint on your skin, and turned to glance at San. His smile was laced with both a challenge and a hint of possessiveness. “I’m marking her everywhere,” he said, his voice low and edged with a playful intensity. “Let’s see who makes her feel it more.”

San smirked, his fingers still intertwined with yours, while Yunho’s hand found its way to your thigh. His touch was steady, almost firm, and he pushed your legs apart, creating space between you, his gaze tracing over your form with clear appreciation. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words gentle against the intensity of his actions. His fingers slid along the soft skin of your thigh, a hint of roughness to his touch that made your heart race. Every glance, every touch, held a kind of reverence as if he was both admiring and claiming you all at once.

Yunho’s eyes never left yours as his lips began to trail slowly downward, warm and intentional, leaving a path of tender heat across your skin. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just enough to make space as he leaned in, his lips pressing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and every now and then he would pause, sucking gently at the delicate skin until he left a faint, possessive mark in his wake. His fingers tightened slightly around your thighs, grounding you in the sensation of his touch as he worked his way upward.

Behind you, San’s hand moved to your neck, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw before he tilted your chin up, his own mouth finding its way to the curve of your throat. The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin as he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss just below your jawline. “Just let us show you,” he murmured softly, his tone filled with affection, his fingers moving to caress the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

San’s hold on your jaw made your head tilt back slightly, and you felt Yunho’s mouth on your thighs, trailing upward with unhurried intensity, marking you as he went, savoring each touch. The way they held you—San’s protective yet gentle hold from behind and Yunho’s firm, claiming presence from the front—made your heart race, filling you with an undeniable sense of being cherished, their attention leaving you breathless in the quiet warmth of their embrace.

San’s breath grew heavier behind you, and you could feel the unmistakable heat of his cock pressing firmly against your lower back, his restraint slipping with every moment. His hands moved to your waist, fingers tightening as he pulled you up, shifting you to sit fully on his lap. The sensation of him beneath you sent a warm blush to your cheeks, and you smiled, caught off guard yet undeniably drawn to the warmth and intensity of his touch.

Meanwhile, Yunho was still focused on you, his lips grazing along the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving small marks that trailed upward, each one deliberate, each one claiming. His hands roamed softly along your legs as he pressed one last kiss to your inner thigh before he pulled back, catching sight of the subtle evidence of your own arousal against the linen beneath you. A playful smirk tugged at his lips, and he looked up, meeting your gaze with a glint of mischief.

Without breaking eye contact, Yunho’s hand moved slowly, confidently, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh before reaching that sensitive place, his touch both gentle and intentional. His fingers explored with careful precision, his eyes watching your every reaction, savoring the way you responded to each movement. San’s hands remained steady at your waist, anchoring you in place as Yunho leaned in, his gaze filled with both admiration and a playful challenge, entirely focused on you, caught in the moment they shared with you.

“You’re so wet already… I can see that you love being marked, is that right?” Yunho asked, his finger pressing against your clit, keeping eye contact with you. “Tell me, sweetie. You wanted this too, mm?” two of his fingers found it’s way in, your head falling back on San’s shoulder as you felt Yunho’s fingers curling inside you. He started to finger you, his long, slender fingers hitting spots you’d never thought would arouse you but here you were.. between the two men you’ve always dreamed of.

“Yunho.. let’s take turns, shall we?” San said from behind, your eyes widened at his words. What did he mean by.. take turns..? you asked yourself.

He smiled at San’s words. “Yeah, sure.. why not. But first, let me have my way with her..” Yunho said and curled his fingers inside you, hitting your g spot a couple of times, moans escaping your throat. “Then.. you can have your way with her and.. “ he circled your clit with his thumb, making you bite your lip, “we can both have our way with her.” San scoffed from behind, approvingly.

“Now.. let's see how much you can handle, sweetheart.” the taller one whispered and he worked both of his hands around your folds. His right hand was 2 fingers deep inside you, finger fucking you rapidly, building your orgasm, while his other hand had the thumb onto your clit, rubbing it in circles, sometimes putting pressure on it. You squirmed and squirmed in front of him and above San, until you basically couldn't take it anymore.

“Y-yunho..!” you started, but words dissipated fast.

“What, princess?” he smiled at you, your face flustered.

“I-i.. ngh.. gotta-” you moaned out the last word, head falling back once again onto San's chest.

“Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I- gotta… c-cum! Yunho, p-please…” you pleaded, eyes teary from being stretched out by his fingers.

Yunho’s smirk grew, his fingers maintaining that perfect, teasing rhythm. He watched you closely, keeping eye contact, catching each hitch in your breath, each tremble, like he was savoring every second. “There we go, princess” he murmured, his tone turning a touch more commanding. “Let it all out…” Yunho said and pressed all your sweet spots until you squirmed over his hand and came all over, creaming on his fingers.

San’s hold tightened from behind, his hands firm on your waist, pulling you slightly against him. “You think you can handle more, princess?” His voice had a rougher edge now, the soft amusement shifting to something more intense.

“Y-yes.. please..” you whispered, voice low and quiet.

“Then.. show us just how much you can take it, sweetheart.”

Yunho’s fingers pressed deeper for a moment, coaxing a soft sound from you that only seemed to encourage them. “Look at you, so eager,” he murmured, his voice velvet-smooth but with a hint of challenge. “We’re not even close to done with you, sweetheart.”

“C'mon, San.. come here. Switch with me.” the taller one said and lifted you, putting you down in his lap, right against his hard cock. He was.. way lengthier than San was but.. San was.. girthier, you'd say? Either way, you were slightly scared of how painfully pleasurable it was gonna be.

You were already out of it. Face sweaty, flustered, eyes teary and legs trembling, but they were not yet done. San's hand ran between your legs, his fingers tracing your thighs. He lubed them up on your own juices then pushed them in, his fingers girthier than Yunho's. Two fingers of his feeling like 3 of Yunho's, you felt yourself being stretched out even more than before. You were close to your high again, even faster than before as you were already aroused.

“You look so beautiful like this, my princes…” San said and sucked a mark on your thigh. Surprised, you moaned pushing your head back into Yunho's buff chest. His right hand went under your chin and slowly pulled your mouth to his, going in for a kiss. At first, it was a soft, tender one. Then, as your moans and whines grew more often and his groans revrebrating through your body, the kiss deepened and the knot in your belly started to feel tighter and tighter, until San curled his fingers into your g-spot and clit at the same time and you beautifully came onto his fingers for the 2nd time in a row.

“That's it, sweetheart…” San whispered

Yunho continued from behind, “Such a good girl..”

How Yunho called you sent a shiver down your spine. Yunho lifted you up onto his lap, sitting you straight.

“One more, sweetie? We promise it's the last one…” he said.

“H-uh? I-” you couldn't even talk, but you nodded your head in approval. The boys looked at each other, giving understanding stares. San pulled you to his chest, placing you on his thigh. You were basically sitting sideways on his lap, your legs spread out evenly. Yunho came under your left leg, in the same position San was. They both pulled your legs outwards slightly, resting on one another's thighs. (it's like they're really close to each other and she's sitting on both men's thighs, left leg over Yunho's entire leg and right one over San's).

They held you promptly and their fingers traveled over your body, Yunho’s hand resting on your waist, San's on your breasts.

“Are you ready, our princess?” San asked.

You nodded. That was it.

“Hold your legs and spread out, darling.”

Both men's fingers went for your hole, a loud moan escaping your throat as you felt both men stretching you in opposite directions. One another was softly pulling towards themselves, inserting each of them two of their fingers, as deep as possible.

They took their time, as if savoring the moment as much as you, their breaths steady and close to your ear, a soft warmth reminding you that they were fully present. Their fingers moved with an intimacy that spoke volumes, every subtle yet harsh movement letting you feel how attuned they were to every reaction, every moan, whine you made.

Their touch became more focused, the rhythm of their fingers overwhelming as you felt the tension building deep within you. San’s voice was a soft murmur by your ear, encouraging you, each word melting into the warmth of his breath, heightening every sensation. Yunho’s grip on your waist steadied you, his thumb brushing along your side in tender, grounding strokes, keeping you fully present in the moment.

And then, with a final, gentle touch, the wave overtook you, breaking over you like a rush of warmth. Your body trembled in their embrace, your breaths mingling with theirs as they held you through every second, their hands offering steady reassurance as the sensations washed over you in gentle waves.

As you came down from your high, tears formed in your eyes from the overstimulation. You came all over their hands and linen for the 3rd time, biting your lips in pleasure.

They put you down slowly on the bed, then both sat right in front of you on their knees. Their cocks were dripping continuously with precum, hard and throbbing, waiting for action.

“Goddammit… you look so pretty like this. Teary eyes.. all fucked out and flushed and we didn't even fuck you yet. Yunho, isn't she perfect like this? Imagine her after we fuck her… oh god.” San said, carresing your cheek as he wiped off some tears.

Yunho’s eyes darkened, a low, breathless chuckle escaping his lips as he took in the sight of you, utterly captivated. He ran his fingers along your trembling jawline, thumb grazing over your lips. “Perfect doesn’t even cover it,” he murmured, voice laced with a deep, possessive edge. “But I don’t think I can wait any longer to see just how beautiful you’ll look after… Come here.”

He stood, pulling you gently toward the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. “Right here," he instructed, his gaze commanding, leaving no room for hesitation. "Let’s see just how pretty you can be for us.”

He raised his brow at his cock, but backed off for a second. He looked at you, and then at San.

San smirked as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with intensity as he took in the sight of you kneeling so prettily on the edge of the bed, exactly where he wanted you. One knee pressed beside your thigh, he leaned in close, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin as he lifted his hand toward your lips.

Keeping steady eye contact, he raised his brows and tilted his head slightly. “Open,” he instructed softly, his voice commanding yet gentle, coaxing you to follow his lead. As your lips parted, he slipped two fingers past them, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze. “Good girl. Now, close around them… slowly, just like that.”

His fingers rested on your tongue, and he watched, completely focused, guiding you with a calm authority. “Suck, nice and easy," he whispered, his voice darkening, "let your tongue glide over them… there you go.” His eyes flickered with approval, and he leaned in just a little closer, his thumb brushing your chin as he murmured, “Show me how well you can listen.”

As you sucked on his fingers, coating them in your own saliva, he smiled at you, satisfied with your work. He then inserted one more finger, your tongue immediately moving and slurping around. After he was more than satisfied with it, he pulled out with a slight popping sound and backed off. He patted Yunho on the chest, who has been lazily stroking his length, looking at the two of you.

“Just in time.. I was going insane back here.” Yunho got closer to you, one of his hand tangling in your hair softly. “Open up, darling. Don't make me wait,” he said and tapped your lower lip with the tip of his cock, to which you opened your mouth and slowly took in his length. The corners of your lips stung as he slowly thrusted in your mouth, hurrying you to adjust to his size.

Yunho's breathing grew heavier as he watched you, his gaze dark and focused. Each slow movement seemed to be its own silent command, urging you to take more of him. His fingers tangled further in your hair, his grip firm yet tender.

You felt your cheeks hollow slightly as you adjusted to his size, your lips stretching around him in a way that sent a heated thrill through both of you. A soft whine slipped past your lips when he pulled back slightly, leaving you wanting more.

He chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “You feel so good, princess.." he murmured, his voice thick with restraint, though his eyes told a different story. You responded with a light hum, the vibrations adding to the tension building between you both. As his pace quickened, your hands found their way to his hips, steadying yourself as he guided you closer to his peak, mouth fucking you rapidly, feeling every corner of your mouth.

With one final, harsh thrust, Yunho’s breaths became uneven, his fingers tightening in your hair as his focus blurred, surrendering to the intensity of the moment. His low, rough voice spilled out in a shuddered exhale as he came. He looked down at you and nodded, urging you to slurp everything, “swallow, sweetheart.” and you did as told.

Just as you felt Yunho’s hand leave your hair, San took his place before you. He offered a playful smile.

Slowly, you welcomed him, the slight stretch challenging yet thrilling, but you never looked away. His hand reached forward as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye, a silent promise of reassurance as he swept his thumb gently across your cheek. With each slow movement, his thumb remained there, resting on your face.

“Fuck.. you didn't lie at all, man…” his head lolled back, biting his lip, “when you said she feels good..”

San’s breaths quickened as he found a rhythm, but he kept his focus on you, reading every reaction, every subtle change in your expression. He couldn't wait anymore. He wanted to cum and that was it. His hand pushed your head on his cock, making you gag and slightly choke on it. As he did that a couple of times he came right down your throat, urging you to swallow his load. It took him a couple of moments to release everything, your eyes teary as he kept his cock down your throat until the end.

“Damn.. that was hot” Yunho said from behind, his cock hard again, heavy in his hand.

“Princess.. would you be able to endure one round of… both of us fucking you, hm?” Yunho said, both men standing in front of you, keeping eye contact. “I just can't wait for my turn, you know?” he continued.

“I-uh” you hesitated for a second, but smiled and nodded shyly, looking up at him.

“That's our girl, man… look at her. Already flushed and ravished, but still wants more? Such a good girl…” San said and pushed you on the bed, crawling under you. He held you close to his chest as he moved up slightly and rested his back against the headboard. Yunho came from behind and kneeled right behind you, his hands resting on your waist.

“Are you ready, love?” he said from behind, your eyes looking into San's, not knowing what to expect. You nodded, and San was the first one to act. He thrusted as slow as possible in your cunt, your hands gripping the headboard as he let you get accustomed to his size. A loud moan escaped your throat, words stuttering as he started to keep up on a pace. Yunho did the same after he let you get used to San and as he started to softly fuck you, your eyes teared up and drops of tears fell onto San's chest. He wiped them off, in awe of your reactions and fucked you. harshness betraying his neediness for you.

“Fuck, you're so tight…” he said and his hands drove up and down on your back, trying to soothe you.

San’s hand gently caressed your cheek as you locked eyes with him, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath you. His thumb traced over your cheekbone, wiping away any lingering tears "You’re incredible," he murmured softly, voice thick with admiration.

Behind you, Yunho’s hands remained anchored on your waist, fingers pressing into you in a grounding way. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so well.” His tone was a blend of awe and satisfaction, his voice rough but filled with warmth that made you feel completely safe.

As they both moved with you, their rhythm became an unspoken exchange, synchronized in a way that felt almost effortless. You could feel the tension building in each of them, both of them on the edge, breaths deepening as they drew nearer to their highs. San’s grip on your thighs tightened, his knuckles grazing your skin, grounding you both as he savored every second. Yunho’s hand slipped up your back in a soothing motion, his rough exhale brushing against your shoulder, each of them close to finishing.

As they fucked you for a couple of times, you came unannounced, your aching walls tightening around their cocks. Surprised, both San and Yunho came down from their high simultaneously, their huge loads filling both of your holes to the brim. They fucked you through your orgasms and slowly came down to a stop.

Yunho slowly pulled back, exhaling a long, satisfied breath. His hand lingered on your back for a moment, his thumb tracing gentle circles, grounding both of you in the moment. He offered you a soft, tender smile, cheeks flushed and breathing deeply. San's arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you close to his chest as he settled back.

“You did so well,” Yunho murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple, his voice low and full of pride. His fingers brushed along your cheek with a feather-light touch, his gaze filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful, love… can’t believe how lucky we are.”

San pressed his lips to the top of your head, his grip tightening around you as he whispered, “Such a good girl.” His fingers traced soothing patterns along your back. “Every bit of you is incredible, you know that?”

The two of them exchanged a quiet smile over you, their gazes warm. They both leaned in, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks, to your forehead, each one tender, grounding, letting you know how much you were cherished.

“Let's get you washed up, alright?” San said and lifted you, carrying you to the bathroom and placing you down.

“T-thank you.. it was in-incredible.” you finally managed to form a sentence, both boys looking contently in your eyes. They smiled at your words and San gave you a hand, holding you tight while the taller one turned on the shower.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium @peachy-bell26 @memorabxlia @atiny1

[httpsobi]

YOU...YOU CAN DO THAT? “a spider-reader x team"

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, they/them (gender neutral) reader addressed as spider cause if you can't tell i'm very creative, inspired by miles morales spiderman cause hes my fav, no beta we die like aunts and uncles in spiderman movies/comics, canon-typical violence (not heavily detailed).

A/N + to the anon who requested this nearly a year ago, i'm so sorry pookie the writer block put me in a author coma of sorts. despite this being a year late and trash, i hope you enjoy regardless, and i'm hoping to get more active with my writing again! enjoyyyyyy!

REQUEST + "Oops here I am again (the same anon who requested a reader with spider like abilities).. I forgot to specify 😭 but like maybe could you do idk a first meeting between the YJ and the reader (they/them btw)? Would they be creeped out with the readers' abilities or would it go like 'oh wooooow. Show us how it works!'?"

KF & AQ "Kid!" Kid Flash turns to Spider as he sprints across the buildings adjacent to them. They struggle to match his pace, but as he slows to stick his landing, they manage to catch up and yell at a simple instruction that nearly has him freezing in his tracks out of horror.

"Jump!"

"What?" They flinch at the loud screech that pierces through their earpiece. "No way- are you crazy?!"

"Just-"

Their eyes widen as they watch the monster they've been trying to lead away from the populated city centre leaps into the air behind him.

"-do it!"

Kid Flash hesitates for a moment, they can see it on his face, ready to ignore their request when the creature lets out a rumbling roar.

The ground shakes under his feet as the monstrous thing lands on the building behind him and his face drops into a comical expression.

He spares it a glance over his shoulder, and with its claws reaching out from him, he takes the leap, narrowly avoiding the sharp nails, but as he flails around in the air, weightless, he wonders-

does he really prefer concrete over nails?

He shuts his eyes, readying himself from an impact that- never comes. Rather, there's something sticking to his stomach before he's being yanked to the side, and then- up.

Instead of the smack of concrete, he hits a person, their arms wrapped around him as they roll both of them through the force.

Kid Flash, finally, shoots up and opens his eyes.

Spider and Kid Flash are sat on their asses with matching shellshocked looks, staring down at the building across of them, where that beast shares a similarly confused look as it watches the street below them.

The two turn to blink at each other, shuffling to their feet as they let out joyous cheers that sound almost like screams (poor Kaldur's ears can testify), arms wrapped around each other as they jump with like two middle aged men who's football team just scored the final point.

"Dude, we did that!"

"Right?! I thought I was gonna fall to my death but then you just-!"

"I didn't even know how I did that! It was sheer animal instinct-"

Needless to say, Kaldur was less than happy, and no more "jumping-off-the-building-and-praying" was permitted or attempted. 

Not around Kaldur anyway.

ART & SUP Superboy fails to punch through it, the cage simply folding and stretching around his fist before it pushes him, his shoulder bumping into Artemis'.

"Are we stuck in here until Robin gets back?" Artemis asks with a irritated sigh, turning to look at Spider.

They seem mystified, a mischievous glint in their eyes that she can make out through the big cartoonish eyes of the mask as they take in the strange cage.

Their hands press against the cage, palm flat as they give it a little experimental shove before she can make out their eyebrows rising.

Their palms start to spark, and the red hue of the cage begins to light up a pale blue, "Nope."

The crackles of electricity grow louder and Artemis and Superboy step back just as an awful cracking sounds and-

The cage bursts around them, Spider's sent flying back into Artemis, who's then sent back into Superboy and the three hit the floor with matching grunts.

There's a moment of silence, before Artemis is shoving Spider off of her and rolling off of Superboy herself. As the three sit themselves up slowly, Artemis can make out Spider nodding to themselves with what she thinks is pride.

"I didn't know you could do that." Superboy comments plainly as the three slowly get back to their feet.

Blinking at him, Spider wiggles their fingers at him with a smile.

"Me neither."

MG & ROB With a grunt, Robin sits up with a grimace, hand on his head as his eyes readjusts when he manages to make out Bane stood just in his eye-line.

Bane isn't looking at him though, instead the man's eyes are trained on Miss Martian floating in the air, hands outstretched out in front of her.

She's clearly too busy managing her telekinesis to notice the hulking man anger as he grabs onto one of the many large pieces of machinery lying around the abandoned factory and prepares to ambush her. 

Miss Martian, watch out!

Robin's voice rings out in her head, and M'gann whips around, eyes landing on Bane.

Before either of them can react, something is suddenly flying through the air and with a loud thwack- Bane is lying on the floor, looking a lot less angry and unconscious. Now up on his feet, Robin slowly approaches Bane, M'gann landing on his side as the pair blink down at whatever hit him.

Upon inspection, it's the barrel tank that those cement trucks carry. Empty, sure, but Robin's not surprised that guy was put to bed.

What's more surprising?

"Woooo, my aim's getting good, no?" Spider grins, bouncing on their feet as they approach the two.

"You... you threw that?" Miss Martian asks carefully.

"Duh, who else?"

"Oh. Well, thank you." She offers, a little dumbfounded but Spider doesn't seem to notice.

"How?" Spider blinks at Robin, who's been silently gawking at them as they approach.

"What do you mean, 'how'? I just threw it. "

Robin sputters at them, left eye twitching under his mask as he watches them stretch their arms out over their head with no care in the world.

"That's not- that's impossible?"

"Nuh, uh! Just grab, do a couple spins to get some speed and let go- works pretty well."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?! I'm plenty strong!"

Safe to say that Robin made them perform a couple of strength tests when they got back to the cave, and now Robin's worried Spider might not be aware of the fact that most people can't just throw around cement trucks.

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

[btsgotjams27]

pitch fest | knj

At Pitch Fest, a high-stakes event for discovering the next big book, you find yourself reluctantly partnered with your charming yet infuriating business partner, Namjoon. As he flirts his way through the week, you struggle with your unresolved feelings from a past kiss. Amidst a whirlwind of playful bickering and simmering jealousy, Namjoon’s persistence and seductive charm ignite a passionate confrontation, leading to a revealing and intimate moment that forces you both to confront the true nature of your relationship.

✨ title: pitch fest (don’t push your luck drabble) ✨ pairing: knj x f!reader ✨ genre/au: fluff, a lil angst (you know me) | co-workers, ex-college rivals, slight e2l ✨ word count: 1.2k | ✨ rating: R ✨ warnings: jealously, some begging, namjoon’s actually kinda sweet in this one, kissing, a smol erection ✨ a/n: just a little drabble for joonie’s birthday. i’m sorry it’s been so long since i’ve written anything. i’m honestly surprised i was able to even write anything. anywho, i hope you enjoy it. (oop--forgot to mention this is my don't push your luck couple!)

read > don't push your luck | read > under the mistletoe (drabble)

Pitch Fest is a yearly event where authors and agents speed date to try and find the best, up-and-coming books.

In previous years, you attended these events with your beloved ex-colleague, Raha, but this year, you’re stuck with your partner in crime, Namjoon. And as you expected, he turned on his charm, ready to sign any author that made a pass at him or slipped them their number. If you only had a dollar for every time that happened, then maybe you wouldn’t have to go into business with him.

You expected the door to slam shut after you, but it didn’t. Instead, a hand pounds against it, propping it open.

Namjoon calls out your name and like the stubborn person you are, you don’t answer. You’re ready for the week to be over so you can head back home and cuddle up with a fluffy blanket and a cup of hot chocolate.

Normally, you’d pack everything in your suitcase the morning of, but you need to keep yourself occupied or else you’ll throw a hair dryer at Namjoon’s head. You’re only keeping the essentials out to wash up tonight and tomorrow, along with your pajamas and set of new clothes.

There’s a felt presence behind you as you’re pulling shirts and dresses off their hangers.

“What’s going on?” Namjoon asks, grasping your arm, but you knock into him on your way to the bathroom.

You can hear a small sigh coming from him as you walk away. You’re ridiculous—you know you are. The two of you have never defined anything regarding your relationship, so flirting with other people shouldn’t have you riled up. He’s free to do whatever or whoever he wants. You just hate that he kissed you during Christmas and nothing has come of it since then.

Of course, there’s the constant quips and butting of heads, but that’s nothing new with the pair of you. That’s how it’s always been.

Namjoon leans against the door frame, watching you grab your makeup, and stuff it in your bag. “Can you talk to me? Please?”

You catch his gaze in the mirror, ignoring his question again.

A beat passes and he isn’t ready to give up. He stands beside you, urging you to stop what you’re doing.

“I can’t read your mind. Did I do something wrong?” His eyes are desperately searching for any kind of reaction.

You suck in your lips, turning to him with a fake smile. “Nope. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just being you.” There’s a twinge of displeasure when you deliver that last line.

He pulls back, stunned by your hostility. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” You shrug. “You’re practically flirting and throwing yourself at women this entire week.”

Namjoon scoffs. “That’s what you’re mad about? It’s our job to get the best authors. What do you think I’m doing?”

“You were totally flirting with that one author,” you mumble, shaking your head as you continue stuffing your bag. The author with the low-cut top and mini skirt who was trying to sell her book about her dog's diary.

His mouth hangs before replying, “I was not!” He reassures you.

You whip around. “Yeah huh!” You cringe when you realize you sound like a child, and you hate that Namjoon can do this to you. It shouldn’t be so easy for him to push your buttons, but he’s like an itch you can’t scratch, a bug you can’t squash, a—you get the picture. He’s a pain in the ass.

He crosses his arms and cocks his head. ���And if I was? Are you jealous or something?”

Your eyes go bug-eyed. “Me? Jealous?  Pfft–you couldn't be more wrong.”

You whiz past him again, but he grasps your hand, pulling you and backing you up against the counter. Your eyes dart to his and you're praying he can't see the visible gulp you just swallowed.

“What?” you seethe through your teeth.

Namjoon's smirk makes you want to wipe it off his face. “You're cute when you're jealous. Should've done more of it so I could see you like this.”

If only your eyes could burn straight through that big head of his.

“Don't call me cute,” you huff, looking down at the ground.

His expression softens, and he raises your chin. He softly looks into your eyes, and you follow him as he glances at your lips, then back up. Namjoon's thumb strokes your cheek, making your heart flutter and your stomach somersault. Your chest rises and falls, breaths slowing down as you scan his face and your eyes land on the delicate beauty mark just below his lower lip.

“Cute.”

Your jaw tightens when he says it again. “I hate you.”

Those three words come out of your mouth but you don’t really mean it—well, maybe like 90% of it. He has some redeeming qualities.

“Yeah?” Namjoon’s fingers trace your jaw, then your neck. “What do you hate? Gotta be specific.”

“I hate….your lips,” you say breathlessly when he touches your collarbone.

“What else?” He growls, moving closer to you, his forehead now resting against yours.

“Your voice.”

Namjoon pulls back with a low chuckle and hums.

“Hate how it does something to me, especially during work meetings, when you pull me close and whisper in my ear,” you admit. His voice goes deep and rumbles, sending shivers throughout your body. Every. Single. Time.

He leans in close, right next to your ear. His breath warms up your skin, making your hair stand on its end.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Your hands are splayed across his taut chest, toying with the button on his dress shirt. “You're gonna have to work a lot harder for a kiss.”

“You're gonna make me beg, aren't you?”

“As you should.” It’s only fair, you think.

“Please…” Namjoon whispers, lips ghosting over yours, his thigh now slotted between your legs. “Can I kiss you?”

“Wouldn't you rather kiss Miss-Mini-Skirt?” you quip, knowing full well he doesn’t—evident of his arousal.

Namjoon shakes his head. “She's not the one slotted between my thighs, now is she?”

“Hmm, I suppose you have a point.”

“So, please…let me kiss you.”

“Or what?”

He closes his eyes, resting his forehead against yours. “Or else I'm gonna go insane like I've been all week, sleeping in the same room with you, being so close but can't touch you.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you play with the ends of his hair, twirling it around your fingers. You pull back, eyes wandering to his, then to his lips—they’re full and plump, ready to be ravished. Not gonna lie, you’ve been dreaming about them for months on end.

”Well, are you gonna stand there or kiss me?”

A smile sweeps across Namjoon’s face before he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. It’s soft, even hesitant for a few moments until you pull him closer. His hands are on your waist, then traces along your thighs, hooking his hands around them, lifting you onto the frosty marble countertop.

He breaks the kiss, but his lips are attached to yours again within seconds.

“Joon?” You say breathlessly with half-lidded eyes.

”Yeah?” He’s restless, wanting more kisses from you. Namjoon catches your bottom lip, nibbling, making his way across to the other side.

“I still hate your lips because they're so plush and soft.”

Namjoon chuckles. “Good. Come hate my lips some more.”

[strwbmei]

Kinktober : Level 2.

summary: as a loyal servant, you've grown tired of the archon taking your work for granted.

contains: gn reader, reader has a dick, anal, dubcon, brat taming, semi-public sex, spanking, crying, degradation, humiliation, you write on her, no aftercare, rough sex

pairing(s): furina x reader

a/n: uh. accidentally scheduled to post this for the 15th and just realized now. oops. hope the dialogue isn't too cheesy...

thats all for now, i'll be a bit busy this weekend so i can't promise that i'll be able to respond to asks/messages

NSFW below the cut !

"Unhand me right this insta-!"

"Shut. Up."

You had your Archon's wrist pinned to the wall; petite and feeble arms uselessly flailing as she made what could only be called a pathetic attempt at resistance. "Do you think you're getting away with this?! Just wait 'til this is over, you..!"

You roll your eyes. "Me? Do you even know my name?" You'd been such a loyal servant— obeying her every whim, working tirelessly because of the impossible demands she had set, and yet; she didn't even know who you were. Not once has Furina spared you a second thought. You were merely one of her servants. Hers to command and control as she pleased.

She let her mouth hang open for a second before closing it again, biting back a retort that she can't think of. "What's wrong, dear Archon? Aren't you going to fight back?"

Furina had always acted so high and mighty, but merely cornering her in a dusty, secluded warehouse had her feeling so weak and small— at least, in your presence. Wait, no— she's an Archon! What right did you have to treat her like this? You should be groveling at her feet for forgiveness if anything!

Though, as much as Furina wanted to... she couldn't deny how aroused she was getting. You scoff seeing her clench her thighs together. "Of course, this whole situation gets you wet. Fuckin' slut." Before she could make up a comeback, you let go of her wrists.

"Bend over and put your hands on the wall."

"I don't wanna!"

"I wasn't asking. Don't make me repeat myself." You ordered, using a tone full of authority that made Furina's heart skip a beat. She's been the one ordering and bossing people around for as long as she can remember, and she certainly doesn't mind, but she had no idea that giving someone else control could feel so... freeing.

Begrudgingly, she followed your orders; turning around and resting her palms on the dusty walls.

A second passed, nothing. Furina found a sort of thrill in the anticipation of what you'd do, but it was still nerve-wracking nonetheless. A few more seconds passed, and as Furina was about to speak, her words were cut off by a moan she didn't even realize she let out when you spanked her ass.

Her body threatens to lose its balance, knees faltering and hands slightly slipping. You rub the spot where you had hit in a mockingly soft way. "Aww, too much for my spoiled goddess?" You cooed into her ear; her frustration evident. Just then, an idea pops into your head. "Mm... I know, why don't we play a game?"

"Since you forgot my name," She looks at you with a confused expression from over her shoulders; heterochromatic eyes already glossy and wet with tears that threaten to spill onto her smooth skin. "I'll give you a name, instead." The game sounded simple enough, but the sadistic smirk you had on your face spoke volumes.

"From now on, I want you to refer to yourself as my personal cocksleeve. Not the Hydro Archon. Not Furina. When you're in my presence, you don't serve any other purpose but to take my cock. Got it?"

The Archon, the respected and feared Archon of Fontaine, meekly and hesitantly nods; so weak suddenly. Her obedience, though unexpected, pleased you— unlike her silence. What happened to the loud, irritating voice she used as she bossed and ordered you around? Where did all that strength go?

Slap.

Furina yelped. "I asked you a question." You're sure that her body would have tumbled over if you weren't holding her ass up. "I-I uh," Embarrassment filled her as she stuttered. Slap. "Yes..!" You snickered at her whiny tone, which you're sure wasn't on purpose.

You pulled her shorts down, a string of her slick connecting her cunt to her now ruined panties. Fuck. "Are you really getting wet from this?" You mock. Your finger ghosts over her entrance, and you can feel it throb and flutter around nothing.

"No, I'm not..! Do you really think that-"

Slap.

"I didn't give you permission to speak." The second you take a step back, it feels as if the weight of the world was lifted off of Furina's shoulders. "Tell you what, since I'm feeling generous..." This time, you slap her cunt, making her whine from the mix of pain and pleasure.

"I'll give you three seconds. If you run away, you can throw me in a jail cell or do whatever you want to me. But if you don't," Her ass is an angry red from the sheer force of your slaps, and you take it upon yourself to rub it in teasing circles before slapping it once again. "I'll humiliate and fuck you until you're a good-for-nothing slut."

"Three." You stay completely still, arms crossed as your figure loomed over the other woman. "Two." Furina stays unmoving, and you can see her cunt glisten with arousal. "One."

As she looked back over her shoulders, her stomach churned with both excitement and nervousness once she saw the sadistic smirk on your lips. "Fuckin' brat. You're fucking disgusting." Although your words sounded like you were insulting her, you couldn't be more proud to have the Hydro Archon bending herself over for you, wet pussy on display— all for a servant she never even gave a second glance at.

No matter how much Furina wanted to deny it; fight back... she was incredibly desperate and horny— and even if she didn't want you to know that, her body told you all about it. The weight and consequences of her decisions don't hit her— at least, not until she feels your thick cock, hard and as rigid as stone from her doing, resting on her back.

Just an hour ago, she was going on about her day as usual. Under no circumstances would she imagine that she'd be getting her ass pounded by you in a dirty storage room, praying to whatever other gods existed out there that you wouldn't get caught.

"Shiit..." The death grip you have on her waist doesn't relent, still as strong as it was before your first orgasm. How many times has Furina cum? None. It doesn't matter. She'll take any scrap of pleasure she can get at this point— she just wants to be filled. "So tight... just for me." You can feel her balance faltering as you slap her ass again.

And you don't even fulfill that. You're completely selfish; the only reason you chose to fuck her ass was solely because while it was tighter, she receives little to no pleasure. Plus, not many people can say that they've fucked an Archon in the ass. You wanted her to learn that she's merely a toy— and that it doesn't matter if she doesn't cum as long as you do.

At least, that was what you intended.

You chuckle darkly through heavy breaths, seeing Furina squirt and make a mess everywhere. "Seriously? You're cumming and squirting like a whore from getting your ass fucked? How pathetic can you get?"

Just then, a thought crosses your mind: how pathetic can she get?

Looking over at the pile of boxes next to you, you spot a marker on top of some documents that you hope were unimportant, seeing how some of Furina's juices got on them. You don't check to see if the marker is washable or permanent. You spread her legs even wider, and the last thing she hears is the cap getting removed before feeling a short, cool sensation on the back of her thighs.

"Every time you cum from me fucking your ass," Slap. "I'll write something on your body." Furina doesn't respond. She doesn't trust herself to run her mouth; remembering how that was the reason this encounter happened in the first place.

You lift her off your cock, making her whine at the loss of contact. She quickly realizes what you were trying to do as soon as you turn her to face the door. "N-no... please!" The Archon tries to make use of the rest of her feeble strength, kicking— though her actions tickled you more than it hurt.

"Oh, baby..." You cooed. Your tone almost reminded her of your meek, monosyllabic replies to her bossing you around— but now, there was an added sultriness and authority. "You can fight back all you want if that makes you feel better, but we both know you want this."

"Look. Even if you don't want to admit it, at least your body is honest." You rub on her still-sensitive clit, prolonging and coaxing out more of her orgasm. Tears start streaming down her face as soon as you bring her down on your cock, ass stretching to accommodate your size.

"Please, 'm sorry!... I'm... mhmff... Your personal cocksleeve is sorry! If we get caught..." Her words are cut off by a particularly hard thrust knocking the air out of her lungs. You smile at her words, but your pace doesn't relent. In fact, it gets even faster. "Oh? You know your name. I thought you were too dumb for even that." Besides, the way she clenched tighter once you positioned her in front of the door of the warehouse didn't go unnoticed.

She keeps on begging and apologizing through sobs and moans, feeling herself close to passing out with the sheer force of her incoming orgasm. With a loud sob, her body grows limp and her cum forms a puddle on the ground beneath you two.

"Tsk. All that talk, and she couldn't even last two rounds." You groan, laying her slack body on the floor. Her legs are trembling, and her thighs are a sticky mess. Her gaping hole is filled to the brim with your cum, just as it should be. There are numerous writings on her previously sacred body; namely words such as 'slut' and 'whore.'

With a few jerks of your cock, warm ropes of your cum shoot out and cover the woman beneath you. You zip up your pants, leaving her both physically and sexually ruined for the next person who would be unfortunate enough to find her.

╰┈➤ taglist ; @nbdaddykink , @teethoftheeditor , @roninraccoon , @commandercarbs , @sapphic-simp4015 , @truculentbantam , @vrachis , @dukemira , @arbiteriey , @krowbyss

[sunstone-smiles]

A Squeak or a Startled Exclamation?

Original Request: "Hey so for Day 20, can we get Phoenix (and maybe a few others?) teasing Edgeworth into a flustered mess since you can never have enough Lee Edgeworth? Thanks."

Author’s note: Oops! Sorry this is two days late, but here it is as promised! Here’s Day 20 of Tickletober: “Tease,” “Weakness,” and “Posing” from August’s Tickletober List, Crow’s Tickletober List, and Nim’s Tickletober List. I hope you enjoy!

Series: Ace Attorney

Characters: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Maya Fey, Detective Gumshoe 

Word count: 1,288

Summary: Edgeworth refuses to admit that he made any noise similar to a squeak after Phoenix accidentally startled him, but Phoenix starts to tease him to admit it once he remembers Edgeworth’s little “weakness” that caused him in part to squeak.

---

“I did not squeak. You’re hearing things,” Edgeworth’s arms are crossed and his head is turned away from Phoenix.

“Uh, no. That was definitely a squeak, Edgeworth,” Phoenix counters. “It sounded just like a mouse.”

“Maybe a mouse getting stepped on,” Maya snickers.

Edgeworth whips around to face them, “Well, what do you expect me to sound like when you surprise me like that?!”

“It’s okay, Mr. Edgeworth!” Gumshoe chimes in. “If it makes you feel any better, it didn’t sound like a mouse, it sounded more like a creaky faucet handle!”

Edgeworth face palms. “So reassuring, Detective...”

This whole conversation started because Phoenix and Edgeworth were arguing over how to do a proper Steel Samurai pose. Phoenix had done the iconic pose with his form bent forward and an arm poised like he was holding weaponry at his side, but Edgeworth corrected him. The prosecutor got up and showed the “proper” way to do the pose (basically doing the same thing that Phoenix did). Phoenix shook his head and went over to Edgeworth to begin posing him like a plastic doll. In the process, however, Phoenix grabbed Edgeworth’s sides in order to turn him in the right direction, but Edgeworth suddenly leaped from the lawyer’s grasp with—what everyone but Edgeworth is defining as—a squeak. 

“Okay, so if it wasn’t a squeak, what do you call it?” the lawyer asks.

“A startled exclamation that was higher pitched than average,” Edgeworth makes his alleged squeak sound more refined.

“Hmm, that is a good way to describe it,” Maya says.

Phoenix rolls his eyes. “Edgeworth, all I did was touch your sides–” Phoenix suddenly stops himself. A realization hits him. “Ooh, I get it now,” a smirk grows on Phoenix’s face. “I forgot that Edgeworth has that little weakness.”  

“Wright,” Edgeworth says with a stern tone that translates to: don’t push it.

But Phoenix Wright being Phoenix Wright is absolutely going to push it.

Phoenix holds his hands behind his back and begins circling the prosecutor, like a supervillain about to monologue to all angles of a camera.

“I can’t believe it slipped my mind that the stern and sharp-witted Edgeworth can be thrown off by something so… childish,” Phoenix grins over Edgeworth’s shoulder before passing by him, but not without first giving Edgeworth’s side a quick squeeze. The prosecutor jolts and tightens his elbows down upon reflex, though still keeping his arms crossed.

“Wright,” Edgeworth glares at him, giving him a second warning. His eyes are locked on Phoenix as the lawyer walks back in front of him.

“Don’t you think it’s funny, Edgeworth? You can act all big and tough in the courtroom, but a quick tweak to your ribs, a squeeze to your side, or maybe a scribble into your stomach will send you crumbling to your knees,” Phoenix makes sure to enunciate and draw out the most flustering words of his sentence to effectively tease him, all while he says them with a smirk and wiggling fingers.

Edgeworth reflexively leans back a little, staring at Phoenix’s hand like a cautious cat. When Phoenix steps closer, Edgeworth takes a defensive step back.

“Wr-Wright,” Edgeworth stumbles over his words as he says the lawyer’s name for a third time. “D-Don’t–” 

But Phoenix leaps at Edgeworth and tackles him to the couch behind them. Edgeworth crashes onto the cushions and immediately wrestles away Phoenix’s hands that are trying to get a strike on him. He squirms back even further, his head eventually touching the arm of the couch, right before Phoenix slips a hand out of Edgeworth’s grip and plunges it towards his side. Edgeworth jolts with a yelp, and as much as he tries to restrain his laughter, snickers start leaking their way through his defenses and eventually turn into giggles. 

“Oooh, now I understand the big ‘weakness’ Mr. Wright was talking about,” Gumshoe says. “It’s how Mr. Edgeworth is really ticklish!”

“Thahahank you fohohohor stating the obvious, Dehehetective!” Edgeworth responds with some sass, but he yelps after his sentence when Phoenix moves a hand towards his belly, causing the prosecutor to curl forward a bit.

Gumshoe chuckles, finding amusement in the timing and in the rest of the scene. “Heh he, no problem, pal.”

Maya places her hands on her hips. “Nick! I’m ashamed of you!”

“Huh?” Phoenix briefly turns to her. “For what, Maya?”

She waltzes over towards the couch. “For not telling me you were going to tickle Mr. Edgeworth!” she smiles. “Let me help!” She quickly jumps in and adds her hands to the mix, which sends another ticklish jolt through Edgeworth when she gets one of his sides. “I want to hear his squeaky giggles!”

“I alreheheady told yohohou, I did nohohot squeak!” Edgeworth shouts through his laughter.

“Really? Are you sure, Edgeworth? Because I can replicate the sound right now for evidence,” Phoenix smiles. “It sounded like this,” he suddenly gives a squeeze to Edgeworth’s side, although this one with much more tickly intent than when he was posing him earlier. Edgeworth does indeed let out a squeak-like sound through his giggles.

“No no, Nick,” Maya says. “It sounded more like this,” she gives a scribble to his belly and a high-pitched giggle emerges.

“Hmm, that is pretty close,” Phoenix pretends to ponder. “But it had more of a shriek to it. Like this,” Phoenix tweaks Edgeworth’s ribs, causing another squeak from the man before his giggles rise even louder from Phoenix keeping his wiggling fingers at his ribs. 

Edgeworth tilts his head back and kicks his legs behind them. “Stohohohop that!” he shouts before he turns his head towards the cushions and puts a hand to his face to hide his flustered expression from their back and forth teasing.

“Detective Gumshoe, we need a second opinion,” Phoenix looks over to their friend. “What do you think sounds the most similar?”

Gumshoe puts a hand to his chin. “Hmm, try his ribs again?”

Phoenix gladly gives another tweak to the bottom of Edgeworth’s ribs, earning a mouse-like (or faucet handle-like) squeak from the prosecutor and his hands to shoot down in defense before the flood of his giggles continue.

“Yeah, that one,” Gumshoe smiles.

“Fihihine! Fihihihine! I squeaked!” Edgeworth finally breaks. “Are yohohohou happy nohohow?”

“Yes, very,” Phoenix smiles and pulls his hands away. Maya stops right after him. Edgeworth leans back on the couch, still with his arms to his sides as she catches his breath.

“Nice going, Nick! You got him to admit it!” Maya cheers.

“Eh, what can I say,” Phoenix shrugs, “I’m pretty skilled at getting people to admit things.”

“I’m proud of you for admitting it, Mr. Edgeworth!” Gumshoe supports him. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”

“There’s everything to be embarrassed about,” Edgeworth grumbles and covers his face with both of his hands.

Phoenix taps the side of his hand to Edgeworth’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. Edgeworth. This isn’t a courtroom with a judge, and even then, the judge we know wouldn't judge you for this. This is a safe space.”

Edgeworth simply groans through his hands.

 “And if it makes you feel any better,” Phoenix continues, “a smile suits you better anyway.”

Edgeworth tilts his hands to peek through them, seeing Phoenix with a warm, compassionate smile on his face.

Edgeworth sighs and moves his hands from his head. It’s hard to stay mad at the lawyer when he can tell he’s speaking truthfully.  

“Don’t think this is going to make me forget about our Steel Samurai debate, Wright,” Edgeworth mentions, in his same serious tone as always, though with a soft smile on his lips.

Phoenix chuckles, pleased that the prosecutor is back to his usual self. “Heh. Wouldn’t dream of it, Edgeworth.”

[the-odd-devil]

Gods and Good Boys

Homelander x f!reader

Summary : You know something is wrong, a simple image management employee has nothing to do in this fancy lounge at the highest of Vought tower. When Homelander enters the room with a satisfied smile, you know you’re fucked. The rumors you've heard about him and his constant presence at your office do nothing to help get him out of your head but will certainly help you get out of this situation, or maybe make it worse.

Word Count : 4 042

Warnings : !!! minors DNI !!!, non-con/dub-con, sexual harassment, canon-typical violence, blood, death, smut, mommy kink, degrading, sub!Homelander, dom!reader (let me know if I forgot any)

Author's Note : So first fic eh? More specifically, it’s the first time I've written fanfiction in English, but I loved it so much! Much more than my native language for some reason? Anyway I had the best time ever writing Homelander, he is so fun to write (even more when he’s a sub oops), hope you will have fun reading it too!

 But before the Big Boy™ I want to give a big big BIG thank you to @mietkoz and @finniestoncrane for proofreading the fic and being sweethearts, they really hyped me up and makes me want to write more! <3 Another big big BIG thank you to @spicedchaiandromeda and @just-call-me-angel who inspired me a lot to write and were so nice to me <3 

Hope you’ll like it!

This whole thing was weird as fuck. Two people, who you immediately guessed that they were a lot more important than you, had brought you and this other Vought employee, in this fancy lounge decorated with expensive stuff. The price of the furniture did nothing to make the room more appealing, it felt empty and cold. They left you and the other girl in the middle of it. While looking at each other, you remembered seeing her at some office inside the tower, her name being Grace and being in a similar post as you at Vought, she was in a high level of stress, picking her nails and looking generally concerned about why you were here. Honestly, you were concerned too, random office workers at Vought have nothing to do at the highest of the tower, but your mind was empty, not knowing what to expect.  

You hear clicking heels coming to the door from the hallway and soon Ashley is standing right in front of both of you, a fake and uptight smile on her lips and an all too much joyful tone. 

“So, I suppose you know why you’re here!”

You and the other girl look at each other with a questioning expression before looking back at Ashley.

“You’re gonna have an interview with Homelander!” she said while doing a little forced cheering movement.

Ah yes, Homelander. You’ve seen him more than once in the office area explaining to employees what they have to do and sticking his nose in other people’s business. With his fake smile and false sympathy. You know and everyone knows that he’s close to a no return point at every second, ready to turn the room into ashes. What you really think about the fucker is another story tho. You first didn’t think much about him, in your department, the supes are more of a product than anything, you don’t really see them as a person anymore, even more when you’re the one who has to cover their “mistakes”, if killing innocents can be considered as a mistake. You prefer not to think about him in particular, even if you know only the surface level about what he’d done, aka, what you have to deal with and then dilute for the press ; seeing him in person, close to you, looking at you, is totally different. He did nothing that would be considered “abnormal”, at least, for him, in the office. He tries to play it cool, be the nice guy, but his sudden voice bursts betray him. 

What really scares you is what he makes you feel. Things that you prefer ignoring. He undressed you with his eyes or made prolonged eye contact more than once and you couldn’t refrain from the heat that you felt. The asshole had a really pretty face and a shark smile, the way his expressions distort oscillating between rage, pure distress and complete emptiness made you imagine how you could completely break him with just a few sentences and how he could annihilate you in a blink of an eye. The thoughts of you possibly dominating this god-like figure have kept you awake more than once. 

“Did we do something wrong?” Grace says timidly, you could hear how anxious she was.

“Oh no no no! He just wants a new “assistant” and asked me if he could see you in private.” you could hear the fake enthusiasm and the quotation marks in Ashley’s tone. 

The word “assistant”, isn’t a good omen for where this situation is going, you know how perverted Homelander, and the vast majority of the supes are, and you’re thinking that being fired isn’t that horrible after all.

“Anyway! Try to make a good impression!” Ashley says before making her way to the door.

“Wait? You’re gonna let us here??” your voice makes you suddenly aware how much you were panicking.

“Yes? I’m not the one choosing.” she says, a frown across her face before finally leaving.

And there you are, Grace and you standing in the middle of this Vought’s lounge, clearly design for la crème de la crème of those who enters the tower, not knowing what the fuck is gonna happen when Homelander is going to join you. 

He probably was waiting for Ashley to inform him that you were here because he arrived shortly after she left, you even suspect him of waiting next to the room and most certainly watching and listening since you were here. He enters the room and closes the door, placing the key on one of the tables next to the couch before putting his hands behind his back, a pleased smile on his face and places himself in front of both of you, making direct eye contact with Grace and then with you. Grace instantly looked away but you couldn’t stop looking in his icy blue eyes. It feels like the eye contact is during an eternity, none of you looking away. He breaks the contact when he is starting to speak after clapping once in his hands, making Grace and you jump.

“So, what did Ashley tell you?”

You were growing more and more confuse with this whole situation, what the fuck does he want? 

“Come on girls! Speak!” he says, elevating his voice and clapping his hands. There it is, his constant struggle at keeping his calm. Grace was mortified and you answer Homelander, hesitation visible in your face and voice :

“She told us about an assistant thing…”

“Oh yeah… You know, days are a little bit boring sometimes…”

You look at him while he starts pacing in the room, getting closer to you and Grace. When he’s close enough, he starts petting Grace's hair like a dog and turns his head to look at your side. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek, too afraid to turn your head and look at him in the eyes when he is this close to you. He withdraws his hand from Grace’s hair to start stroking your cheek instead.

“I just can’t decide which one of you I’m going to fuck on a daily basis.”

You can see his fucking smile in your peripheral vision, well aware of the power his holding on the situation. Your breath is stuck in your throat, your vision is starting to blur, your blood runs cold, you feel like your soul just left your body and you’re not able to move anymore. You're out of your paralyzed state when you see and hear Grace running to the door and starting pulling on it in panic, unable to unlock it. You watch the action with eyes wide open, panicking more and more but unable to move or react, knowing too well that this situation is about to get worse. You know Homelander too much to know that showing him signs of resilience is a very very bad idea. He grabs your chin so hard that it hurts you, turning your head in order that you face him again. His eyes are closed and he lightly shakes his head, he seems disappointed as if a little kid just did something wrong and he’s about to reprimand them. Grace is still trying to open the door in panic and starts to cry some “please!”, “let me go!”, “please”, Homelander just turns his head looking at her with some disappointment, still holding you before melting her head with his laser eyes. 

Her body falls to the ground, headless. You contain the screams who are holding in your throat, so much that your body begins to contract. Your eyes are burning, holding tears in a terrorized expression. Homelander turns his face, having a sweet forced smile, looking at you like he was proud of you being an obedient girl who listens to him. You feel sick. He hums, approaching his face even more, you could feel the vibration in his throat. 

“I guess it means that you’re the one I choose.

SO!”

The fact that his expression is changing once more, so rapidly into something completely different, has always scares you, today, more than anything. You don’t know what to expect next. His now happy and calm expression and the fact he starts pacing again in the room only calms you slightly, leaving you some time to think of what to do next. 

He ends up facing you, a few feet away, his smile still on his face. It is the kind of smile you know is pacific, that nothing will happen to you if you do right. It is comforting in some way. Some agonizing seconds pass, before he finally says something. 

“What are you waiting for? Show me.” 

You didn’t expect that. Not the abrupt demand but the tone of his voice. Very deep and low, vibrating through your core. All the deep, filthy feelings you have for him are coming back to the surface. His fucking gaze, looking right through you with lust and envy, his satisfied smile who knows he can have everything he wants. You’ve noticed every time he passes by your office. You were sure you were imagining things, you are now certain that everything he did was on purpose. This wasn’t a wet dream anymore. Homelander was here, waiting for you to make the first move, if you didn’t, you'd end up like Grace whose blood was spreading across the fancy carpet of the lounge. 

You compose yourself, sniffing the results of the tears in your eyes, trying to make the feeling you had when you saw him at your office fully resurface.  

He often went into the offices of your department, putting his nose in everything. You thrived on the view every time. Even knowing everything he’s done, you couldn’t stop looking at him. Not only do you find him beautiful, but when he comes to your floor he always has his worried puppy face. He seems so sad and anxious wanting to know if the public still loves him, seeing him in this state makes you hot all over. 

One day, he ends up noticing your glances, you can only also guess that your expression said a lot more than you wished, and till that day he began visiting your desk every time he came down here. 

It was mostly light teasing, and you understand now, flirting. You thought he didn’t mean much until today. It seems that he finds making people uncomfortable funny. You would have never guessed it meant anything. You were always flustered nonetheless. 

Most of the time, he exaggeratedly bent next to you to watch your computer screen, his mouth ending up to be impossibly close to your ear, where he whispered saying some uninteresting shit about what’s on the screen, most of the time, he didn’t even know what he saw meant, and you didn't really listened to him anyway, his low and deep voice reverberating down to your core. You remember your mind spiraling and only being able to concentrate on the wetness in your panties. Sometimes in the blur of his sayings, you could recall him calling you pretty, or lightly degrading you, it only made you spiral even more. 

Being in the break room instead of your desk didn't stop him from harassing you, or whispering in your ear. He looked at you like a prey, you were his prey everytime he went to the office. You should have called sexual harassment. You didn’t. You know it wouldn’t change anything, you thought he was like that with everyone. Even one of your colleagues suggested it. She knew damn well that there is absolutely no point of doing that.

You usually just didn't respond to him, just getting more and more red and wet, sometimes swallowing and letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Except the last time he came to see you in the break room. 

It started like usual, the usual being him spotting you in the break room and immediately entering and sticking to you, pressing his torso against your back and his lips against your ear. You could see and feel his hand every time, hesitating to go on your hips. He began whispering in your ear, a lot nicer than all the other times, things like “you’re so pretty today”, “let me buy you another coffee”, “we can go to a calmer place if you want”... You were already red and wet from the few sentences and his proximity. When he bent over to take a hot chocolate your breath stopped. You could feel him already getting hard on your ass. 

He took his drink and went to sit on the break room table. You couldn’t help but watch him across the room. He was delighted seeing your red face and your look filled with lust and shame. 

He slapped on his thigh two times, calling you like a child : 

“Come sit with me.”

 You took the closest seat to him, hypnotized, incapable of thinking or saying anything. Your cup of coffee was trembling in your hand. Attentively, you watched him take a mouthful of his chocolate milk. He took so much milk so rapidly that some was left on the corner of his mouth. 

The satisfied look on his face and his unusually soft smile made you lose your mind. You didn’t even had time to realize what you were doing, that your hand was already cupping his cheek and your thumb was gently whipping off the cream on his face. 

His surprised look was rapidly replaced by a look of pure bliss, his head leaning on your hand, his eyes closing and his mouth slightly opening while he exhaled a long breath. You couldn’t recall if you had an orgasm right then, seeing him so submissive in the palm on your hand ; an electric shock went through your body, you feel like you blacked out and next thing you know you were splashing cold water on your face in the closest bathroom, hyperventilating. You could see your mascara running on your cheeks, asking yourself how you were gonna explain your current state to your colleagues. 

You don’t remember the rest of this day, but you remember him, staying in the break room, his hand caressing where yours was, watching you leave with puppy eyes, his puppy eyes that were the only thing you could think of the following days. You remember thinking of the rumor. The rumor that made you so horny you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom. The one about Homelander you’ve heard the first month you’ve been working in Vought : about  how particular his relationship with Madelyn Stillwell, the ex-Senior Vice President of Hero Management, was. You remember finishing on your toy that night, this idea and what happened leaving your mind running free. 

You know what to do, you know what he wants. There is no other choice, you’ll give it to him while refusing to admit to yourself that you want it too. 

He is in front of you, a small smirk on his lips, challenging you. You feel like a deer catched in headlights feeling so small in front of him standing straight up and looking down on you. You take a few seconds composing yourself, taking a deep breath. You know exactly what he wants and you were going to give it to him. His expression changes as he sees you fake confidence, questioning but still challenging; you look at him through your lashes, a devious smile on your lips. You took a few steps until you were facing him, close enough to hear his breathing speeding a bit. 

You bring slowly your hand to his cheek, locking your eyes on his face, trying your best to look both sweet and flirty. Your heart skips a beat, your breath shaking slightly. You feel like your body is on autopilot while there is a storm in your mind.  His eyes are following the action, eager for some contact. Once your hand is cupping his cheek, you start to stroke lightly with your thumb. Homelander directly melts into your touch, leaning into your hand ,closing his eyes and slightly opening his mouth, bliss and release across his face. He let out a deep breath while relaxing into your hold, he was looking like an asleep kitten, almost purring in your hand. You try to keep your composure, feeling your stomach dropping at the sight of this god-like being turning into putty to your touch, making you feel so powerful. Your confidence level being higher seeing his soft expression, you decided to lean more into the situation. You approach him till your mouth is the closest possible to his ear.

“You really need someone to take care of you mh?”

The shaky whimper he let out makes you tremble. Even knowing the rumors, and witnessing a glimpse of it before, being in first line, and being the one who made him whimper makes you weak and you could already feel yourself getting wet. You continue stroking his cheek, drinking in his reactions.  You’ve always liked how expressive he is, the tiny movement of his face while he is losing himself in pleasure sends you into a loop as you whisper again in his ear : 

“You look so lonely… Poor boy… Don’t worry, mommy’s gonna take care of you.”

You put your other hand in his blond hair, feeling them on your fingers and appreciating how soft they are. You’re totally losing yourself now, hypnotized by his trembling, almost whining voice : 

“Yes! Yes please…”

Any sense of logic leaves your mind as you hear his voice, lust now controlling you. You move your hand to put his chin in your palm and start tracing his lips with your thumb, his mouth opening in a silent moan. You can’t help putting your finger in his mouth. He immediately closes it and starts sucking on your thumb. You don’t control the little moan escaping your mouth, making him moan too, unable to restrain. You start to unconsciously rube your thighs, eager for some contact and relief. Your eyes leave his face and meet his crotch, his dick hard. Your pussy throbbing at the sight and size. Homelander is still lost in the moment, punctuating his sucking with little moans who make you weak.

You can’t resist touching his dick anymore and took your hand out of his face, leaving his mouth empty making him whine at the loss. 

“You’re so eager… Mh? Pretty boy…”

You finish your sentence with your hand ghosting over him, feeling his length, making him groan at both your praise and the feather-like touch before thrusting his hips to fully meet you.  You tut and shake your head :

“You’re really disappointing mommy, baby…” 

Punctuating your sentence with a sad pout. You see his face contracting and looking up, while he moves back his body, as he concentrates to obey you. 

“That’s my good boy.”

His focused face stretches into a proud smile, still looking up, scared that looking at you will make him lose control. 

You smile too, satisfied and shocked by how well you can make him obey you. You apply more pressure, stroking him as you see his expressions tighten. He is trying so hard to keep composure, you don’t know if you will be able to contain yourself too, his almost pained face making you feel closer and closer even if he still hasn't touched you, hands in fist at his sides, waiting for an order to start touching you . 

You suddenly cut off all contact, Homelander making the saddest and most pathetic whine at the loss, lowering his head to look in your eyes, wanting to know what he did wrong.  

“What’s wrong baby?”

Another whine escapes his mouth, urging you to touch him again. You lock eyes, look and voice assertive : 

“Get on that couch.”

He doesn’t think twice and sits on the couch next to you, his eyes are glossy, filled with lust as he looks at you like a puppy waiting for approbation after doing a trick.

“Come on, lay down.” 

He does as you say, you can hear his heavy breath as he waits for more. You approach him like a predator, and sit on his lap, he whimpers at the contact of your pussy, feeling both of your wetness on his costume. You start moving your hips languidly, making him groan. You want more friction, to start moving quicker, you’ve been waiting for some form of release for so long ; but you’re determined to watch him completely lose himself beneath you.  

You continue your agonizing movements (for both of you), the room starting to echo both of your moans. You’re very glad that this lounge has one-way windows, but you doubt the fine glass will be enough to muffle both of your screams. You don’t really care at this point though, the gossip that may happen in the tower being insignificant over the power and the pleasure you are feeling in this instant. Plus, everybody will know anyway considering Homelander reputation, and, oh yeah, the dead body still emptying itself from his blood next to you, but who you totally forgot, your mind clearly elsewhere. 

Your head tossed backward, eyes closed, the sweet moans of Homelander starting to sound more and more demanding, the friction of the his dick on your clothed and wet mount making you lose control, you almost jump when you feel his hands grabbing your waist using his superhuman force to make you move quicker. 

“Did I allow you to touch me?”

Your strict voice makes him stop all movement. He closes his mouth and rapidly shakes his head, hands still on your waist. You furrow your brows harder making him quickly withdraw his hand. You pick back up your previous pace, making him open his mouth again.

“I thought you were mommy’s good boy… Seems like you’re just a dumb slut…”

The whine he lets out is louder than any of the preceding ones, making a deep, sadistic smile grow on your lips and your hips moving faster. You can feel your climax being closer and closer, finally getting some relief. 

“You can touch mommy now…” 

You say at the same time a moan escapes your lips. He places both of his hands on the top of your hips, following your movement as he catches the rhythm with his. 

“You’re such a pretty slut, doing what mommy says.”

His moans are louder at every degradation and praise. 

Your climax coming closer and closer as you can feel his, you start muttering incoherent degrading praises making him moan and buckle his hips at each one of them. Your movements begin to be uncoordinated as you can feel your orgasm arriving with full force, as Homelander’s are becoming more and more brutal. In a final thrust, you feel his dick twitch and release in his costume as you continue riding him pursuing your own high, making him whine at the over stimulation. Your orgasm follows quickly after, a wave of pleasure you’ve never felt before spreading all over your body, making your eyes rolling and watering and your body uncontrollably shivering. 

You fall down to his chest, both of you catching your breath. Once your heart is catching an almost normal beating, you lift your head and give him a soft and chaste kiss on his cheek.

“You did great.”

Before leaving him completely spent on the couch, still catching his breath, a wet spot on his crotch. You smile to yourself seeing him in this disheveled state, making a mental image for future nights by yourself.You take the key on the small table and pull down your skirt while walking to the door, hoping that it will be long enough to cover how wet the top of your legs are. You give one more look at the decapitated body of Grace, trying not to step on the blood, before opening the door and leaving the lounge and going to the bathroom, and then leave the tower, your mind still not recording what happened nor trying to figure out what all of that means for the future.

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week (2024): Day 2

Prompts: Multichaps/Villains! (catching up slowly but surely~)

Multichaps:

Shark Bait: ALRIGHT CONFESSION I haven't actually *read* this one yet ONLY because I know it's going to soooooo good and it's going to change my brain chemistry so I'm waiting until I am Emotionally Prepared but UWAH just the premise alone should be enough to entice you: Movie!verse with completely secret identities, and Lloyd/Green Ninja trying to take matters into his own hands...only for irony to make them worse, as is the story of his life. This author is already a legend as it is so who needs a summary GO READ GO READ NOW!!

Ninjago: The Nya Perspective: SINCE this masterpiece favorite of mine just updated not too long ago, there's no better time than to recommend it once again! Have you always wanted more from Nya in the early seasons?! Have you always wanted more of HER side of story?! Have you wonder how Nya became the person she is today?! Well wonder no longer for this story has got those answers and more!!!!

Sharpen the Scythe, Before He Reaps: Another that I've started but never finished, it's a reworking of the Day of the Departed, so you know it's FULL of Ghost!Cole goodness, from the good to the angsty!! And what I've read so far is sooo soul-grabbing (pun somewhat intended) and makes me wish DotD was even half as introspective as this jhgfdgfd

Thank You For Giving Me Wings: Over a year later and this is still my only multi-chap ninjago fic (...that, uh, isn't Legacyverse nor OC-related, oop). Still, it's never a bad time to have a little introspective on Wu bonding with his students over the years, moreso as family than anything else <3

All I'm Asking For: Quite possibly one of my very favorite Ninjago fics ever, it is REQUIRED reading as far as I'm concerned! Cole's the anchor character, but it follows EVERYONE in a slightly-altered aftermath of March of the Oni, with everyone recuperating, figuring out what's next for them with their lives and relationships, and spiced up with a little Christmas flair <3

Mechanical Hearts: A story I've been keeping an eye on for a while, it's a college Jaya au with plenty of Jay+Cole dynamic spread on top, and the way the author (hi Finn!!) writes all the characters is so deep even in the lighter moments and makes all the senes in the world for the setting they're in, and I love all the little nods to canon or the cheeky changes made along the way–it's so enjoyable!

Villains:

for want (for nothing): Not technically a villain, but Kai's certainly an antagonist here ooooooooh (a different, heart-wrenching take on the Kai-Lloyd confrontation in S4)

Lord Garmadon Is Not Impressed With the Future: Another one I've recced before, but now it has an equally villainous SEQUEL so I've gotta get everyone on the train again! And this story's got villain!Garmadon and villain!Garmadon-but-having-a-personal-crisis upon realizing that his future is...not at all what he wanted. And he also discovers himself beating the life out of his own son–so yeah. We definitely can't have THAT. Good stuff, good stuff.

Bucket List: Might be a slight cop-out since this is moreso about Kai BUT it IS my favorite Morro-related fic, and he is a villain, thus it fits! (...Plus I gotta put at least three stories in this section, c'mon). Anyway, Kai allows Morro to possess him for less-than-ideal reasons and presents a fascinating dynamic between the two and what it means to truly live and take responsibility (the good, the bad, the ugly, and all). Be mindful of the tags and warnings, though!

Outgrown (from Spider Lily's Claws): I knew I almost forgot a Harumi one! DR-fic in which Harumi stumbles across the monastery looking for a place to recuperate, and a company-starved Lloyd welcomes her to stay. A fascinating look at a Harumi who's still got her "Evil" instincts but is still trying to act in her best interests, while Lloyd...is Lloyd hgfhgd. I love their back-and-forth bad-idea-good-idea dynamic here a LOOOOOT

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

Fooled Around and Fell In Love

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)

Warnings: mostly done in Jack’s pov with one switch to reader’s for a short time, mentions of death and funeral setting briefly, bar setting, alcohol consumption, (y/n) mentioned once, heavy make out session, smutty good times, oral (female & male receiving), p in v sex, the fluff is ridiculous topped off with the cutest ending I’ve ever written

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Notes: I honestly have had this fic sitting for weeks and completely forgot about it. Oops. This idea has been in my head for at least a year and I finally did it. This was also the first timeI wrote a lot in Jack’s pov which was a lot of fun. I’m probably not going to have anything else until kinktober 👀 Thank you as always to @clint-aww-no-barton and I hope you all enjoy! Also if you have never heard the song played in the fic go give it a listen!! Fooled Around and Fell In Love by Elvin Bishop

ao3 link

Jack Daniels had only been in love once in his life. She’d been his high school sweetheart. He never did figure out how he’d won her heart, but he had. They were going to get married and she’d been pregnant, a baby boy. Then it was all ripped away from him. He’d stood in the cemetery and watched them lower her into the ground along with his heart. Buried six feet under. He swore that day, when he turned his back to her grave, that he was also turning his back on love. He was done with the silly four letter word, that meant nothing but heartbreak. It was hard at first especially seeing his parents, knowing their story. It was a beautiful one, one people wrote books about but Jack just supposed that life wasn’t for him.

  He fooled around of course. He still found women ridiculously attractive, and sometimes it was just too hard not to try and charm his way in. He would flirt until he found the perfect girl, who just wanted a little fun for the night. By the morning he was long gone. It got lonely sometimes, but when it did Jack would imagine himself right back at that grave. It was a reminder to not get attached, not to fall in love. He couldn’t do that again. He wouldn’t live through it a second time.

  He sat now at a local, small town bar, which had pulled in a crowd not long after he’d arrived. He was nursing his second whiskey, turned around on his barstool watching the crowd as it grew. This was his usual Friday night routine, when he wasn’t working. He would come here and wait for the ideal woman and then make his move. Tonight was busier than usual which, Jack didn’t mind at all. The bit of sunlight remaining suddenly broke through the dim lighting, and Jack turned his head to see who was walking in. That’s when his eyes fell on you.

*Your POV*

  You couldn’t believe your best friend had dragged you here. Actually you could. She was strong willed, and didn’t take no for an answer much. You’d rather be sitting at home, binge watching a show and eating your weight in ice cream.

  “Oh come on. Let’s get you drunk and laid.” Your best friend looped her arm within yours.

  “I’m not the one getting over a dick of an ex. I’ll pass.”

  “You still need to get laid honey. You’re too cranky.”

  “I am not! I’m perfectly fine. Plus there’s not a single guy in here who would look twice at me.”

  “Tell that to Burt Reynolds sitting at the bar.”

  You glanced over and sure enough, a man who looked like a younger version of Bandit himself, had his brown eyes on you. You felt your face heat as you turned away.

  “He’s probably looking at you.”

  “Oh honey. He’s not looking at me. Come on, let’s get a booth and I’ll get our first round.”

  You rolled your eyes but let her drag you along to a booth. This was going to be a long night.

*Jack’s POV*

  Jack watched you, as your friend dragged you to a booth reluctantly. You were beautiful. Honestly one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Something about the fact that you obviously didn’t want to be here, just piqued his interest even more. A little more liquid courage and he would go make his move. He watched your friend walk over, confidence so clear on her face. She leaned on the bar calling out to the bartender, placing her order. Two whiskey’s on the rocks. Then she turned to Jack.

  “Hey tell me, where you looking at me or my gorgeous friend over there when we walked in?”

  “No offense against you darlin’ but definitely your friend.”

  “Oh no offense taken. You’re definitely her type. I just wanted to prove that I was right.”

  She grabbed her drinks and Jack smirked.

  “I’ll add more to your case here in just a minute.”

  “You better be nice to her. I have a black belt and I’ll kick your ass.”

  “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

  Jack chuckled at your friend’s protectiveness over you. It just made him wonder more about you. Jack realized then, that this was the first time he wanted to actually get to know a woman in a long time. He pushed it away, trying to focus on just getting you in bed, before he downed the rest of his drink and got up. He weaved through the crowd, keeping his eyes on you. Your friend said something to you and you turned, your eyes growing wide before you spun back around, your face turning red. Jack couldn’t help but to think it was cute. Luckily you had just finished your drink, and it gave him the perfect excuse to speak to you.

  “Can I buy you ladies another round?” He spoke as he leaned on the table.

  “You can buy her another round,” your friend spoke and Jack smirked as his eyes went from her to you.

  “Uh yeah. Yeah I’ll take another…”

  “Whiskey on the rocks?”

  “Um…yeah,” you spoke slowly your eyebrow knitting together in confusion.

  “I’ll be right back.” Jack smacked the table before turning away.

  He ordered two drinks for you and himself before making his way back over.

  “May I join you?”

  “By all means.” This time you spoke and slid over, making room for him.

  “Names Jack. I’ve seemed to have forgotten my manners.”

  “Oh (Y/N),” you spoke giving him a shy smile.

  Your friend introduced herself, and then her eyes darted to someone in the crowd and gave a flirty wave. She excused herself, your eyes burning a hole in her as she went. Jack moved to the other side so he was facing you.

  “I see you were dragged here against your will.” Jack spoke and you pinched your nose between two of your fingers.

  “What gave it away?” The way you looked at him was full of embarrassment, but a smile still pulled at your lips.

  “A guy just knows,” Jack smirked as he leaned back, his arm draping across the back of his seat. “Not your usual scene then?”

  “Not really. I went through a very small stage where it was, but it didn’t last long. It ended in heartbreak so I’m safer at home in front of my tv.”

  “Ah come on. You gotta have fun every once in awhile.”

  “I guess I’ve had all my fun.”

  Jack felt his stomach sink slightly but he’d dealt with this before.

  “Oh sugar I promise you haven’t.”

  “What makes you say that?” You raised a brow, challenge in your voice.

  “Because you haven’t been with me yet.”

  “You sure are confident,” you chuckled lightly.

  “That I am. I ain’t ashamed of it.”

  “Definitely nothing to be ashamed of. I wish I had an ounce of it.”

  “You should. You’re a beautiful woman.”

  You looked down at the table your face once again red.

  “Thank you.”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “It’s just…I don’t have the best record so…” your voice trailed off and Jack felt his heart clench.

  He wanted to make you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. He wanted you to believe it. It was now a mission of his, and he never left a mission unsuccessful. Jack slid out of his seat, and he watch your face fall slightly.

  “May I pull you to the dance floor sugar?” He reached his hand out and he saw a smile pull at your lips.

  “Yes you may.” You grabbed his hand, and he pulled you out of the booth and out onto the dance floor.

  A fast pace song was playing at the moment, so Jack spun you around and the two of you joined in on a little line dancing, before the song shifted to something slower. Jack pulled you close, his hands on your hips and yours wrapped around his neck. He watched you look around the bar, and he knew you were trying not to meet his eyes. He reached up and his finger brushed at your chin, moving your head until your eyes met his. You looked over his face, your eyes stopping briefly at his lips. He quirked an eyebrow and you gave him a soft nod. Jack dipped his head and his lips met yours. The entire world disappeared. It was just you and Jack. He felt something shoot through him, and it only made him kiss you deeper. He felt your fingers lace in the hair at the nape of his neck. You kissed him back with equal fever, and it made Jack wonder if you had felt the same as him. He never wanted to stop kissing you. He could stand here until the day he died, attached to your lips. He had to get you out of here, now. He pulled away and looked down at you. You were panting and searching his eyes. He could tell you were having a battle with yourself. You pulled him down, your lips brushing at his ear and pulling a shiver through him.

  “Take me home Jack,” your words were intoxicating and Jack gulped before nodding.

  You pulled him along to tell your friend where you were going. He could only let out a soft chuckle at the high five the two of you shared, before you all but pulled him out the door. Jack took the initiative then, and pulled you to his car. He opened the door for you and you slid in. He was quick to round the front and climb in, buckling and driving off. There was a comfortable silence, full of the tension that hung between you and Jack, as he drove as fast as he could without breaking the law. Your knee bounced rapidly, and Jack knew you were probably feeling the same excitement he was.

  Jack noticed far too late that he’d pulled into his driveway. He hadn’t even thought to ask you where you lived. He’d just driven straight here. Another sign he was off his usual game. Deep down, he already knew why. He shook his head slightly trying to clear his thoughts, to focus. The two of you filed out of his car, and he was quick getting the front door open. As he shut it, he moved to cage you between him and it. You were both panting, and he smirked, before he was kissing you again. Damn your lips, your kiss could make him drunk like he had several bottles of whiskey. You moaned against his lips and he shuddered. Your hands traveled over his shirt, and soon he felt his jacket fall to the ground. He was quick to get rid of yours, before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. One hand stayed secured around you, flat against your back, while the other traveled down to your ass. He gave you a quick squeeze, and with a gasp against his lips, you jumped circling your legs around his waist.

  The two of you stayed there for several moments, never coming up for air, you pressed between the door and Jack. He let out a breath through his nose, and pulled away reluctantly. Your eyes fluttered opened and you panted. Jack’s breathing was rapid as well, and he gazed at you.

  “Please tell me you want to,” his voice betrayed him as it came out slightly hoarse.

  “More than anything,” you breathed, your voice not even going above a whisper.

  That was all Jack needed, before he pulled you back to his lips, his kiss hungrier than before, as he walked through his house and to his room. He kept you close still with one arm, as the other caught him as he laid you down on the bed and hovered over you. You kept your arms secured around him but your legs slowly fell away, spread wide for him to stay between. He kept himself propped slightly letting his other hand wonder. He his slipped under your shirt and then under the wire of your bra letting his thumb brush across your already hard nipple. It pulled a moan from Jack’s lips and he sat up slightly bringing you with him. His lips parted from yours as he quickly pulled your shirt over your head and discarding it somewhere in the room. Lips back on yours he soon tossed your bra away too. Then he finally let his lips drop and start to wander across your body. Your skin was soft and you smelled so good, that once again Jack could only think about how he never wanted to leave this moment. He kept his kisses feather light as he explored you, finding all the places that made you moan. He noted them carefully, before he finally moved to your breast. He pulled your left nipple between his fingers and pinched slightly. At the same time he pulled your right one between his lips and flicked the hard bud with his tongue. You let out a loud moan, your back arching into him and Jack smirked at himself. He flicked once more as he pulled and then was gone. He was quick to repeat the process on the opposite breast. You, once again, beautifully responding to him. He started to make his way down your stomach, until he came to the top of your jeans. He leaned up slightly, undoing your button and zipper slowly. He glanced up at you and you let out a whimper in a plea. Jack felt his cock twitch at the sight and sound.

  He pulled your jeans away, along with your underwear and let them fall to the floor. He stood then, still stationed between your legs and looked down at you fully bare for him now. You were beautiful, no that wasn’t even the right word. There wasn’t one that accurately described you. Jack knew he was in so much trouble. His eyes that had racked over your body, now met yours, that still had a plea held in them. Your pupils blown, your lips swollen. It was truly a sight. He kept his eyes on yours as he removed his shirt and didn’t bother with his jeans yet as he kelt between your legs. He wound his arms around your legs, flatting his hands on your thighs to keep your legs open. The sight before him made him lick his lips. You wiggled and let out another desperate whimper, that sent Jack reeling. He dove, his tongue licking up your slit, and you let out the most beautiful noise Jack had ever heard in his life. You tasted incredible and it sent Jack into overdrive. He kept going, sucking and licking at your clit. He felt his hat knock off from his head, and your fingers in his hair pulling slightly.

  “Jack,” you panted out, pulling slightly harder and he looked up at you still giving your clit little flicks with his tongue.

  “Please…I want to feel you…inside me,” you begged and Jack smirked.

  He reluctantly pulled his mouth away from you and stood. You sat up your feet hanging from the bed, as he watched you undo his pants. He helped you shove his jeans and underwear down, and before Jack could think to make a move you had his cock in your hand. You were quick to take him into your mouth, and it was so unexpected it took Jack a moment to catch up. His hand laced in your hair and he pulled ever so slightly, pulling a moan from you around his cock. He let out a hiss and closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in how good your mouth felt on him. He pushed his heavy lids open, looking down at you and it was such a beautiful sight, it was so hard for Jack to stop you. He pulled you up to him and kissed you deeply. The both of you seemed to moan in unison at tasting each other on your lips. He lightly pushed you back once again, and hovered over you. He pulled away, his forehead falling to yours as he glanced down and lined himself up with your dripping entrance, before he pushed in. He made himself go slow trying to take in how you felt as you opened for him. He buried his head in your neck as he finally filled you completely, and it was like the perfect puzzle pieces coming together.

  “Fuck,” you whined and that sent Jack into a frenzy.

  He pulled out and then snapped his hips forward, letting out a moan at the feeling. He did this a few more time, pulling moans and curses from you before he set a quicker pace. The room filled with the noises coming from the both of you. Jack tried so hard to be quiet, so he could hear ever last little sound you made. He wanted to hear them for the rest of his life. He wanted to spend every spare second he had pulling them from you. You felt so good around him and he swore he had never been with anyone that felt this perfect. It was making him climb his high, quickly.

  “I’m so close,” you suddenly whimpered out.

  “Let go for me sugar,” Jack spoke in a horse voice.

  You snapped and clutched at him like a vice. It was enough for him to follow you. He drilled deep inside of you, and you milked him. He let out a groan as he buried his face in your neck. Your fingers came up and ran lazily through his hair. The two of you stayed like that for awhile, until you’d come back down to earth. Jack pulled out of you and gently laid down next to you. You turned on your side and he did the same, the two of you looking at each other.

  “You were right,” you spoke after a few moments and Jack’s eyebrow quirked.

  “About what sugar?”

  “That was a lot of fun. The most fun I’ve had in awhile,” you smirked and Jack felt his heart jump slightly.

  “I must say it was the most fun I’ve had as well sugar. You’re breathtaking,” the last few words fell from his lips in a whisper as he reached out and brushed away hair that was stuck to your face.

  His fingers lingered as they softly brushed down your face, and he watched your eyes close and lean into his touch.

  “Let me clean you up and we can get some sleep. That is, if you want to stay?” Jack had sat up and he paused looking back at you.

  “Yeah I think I would like that,” you looked up at him and he smiled as did you.

  He cleaned you up gently, and the two of you settled into bed. Jack pulled you close and watched as you slipped to sleep before he soon followed.

  The sun pouring into the bedroom window pulled Jack from the most blissful sleep he could recall having. He turned his head to look at you, and my god how beautiful you were. You were still peacefully asleep. Your breathe was even and the sun danced over you. Jack watch you for awhile weighing these feelings that were creeping up on him. He knew deep down no matter how hard he tried not to, love was going to creep back up on him one day. Looking at you in his bed next to him he could feel it. He gently and slowly crawled out of bed, slipping on some pajama pants before padding to his kitchen. He turned on the radio and turned the volume low letting old classic rock and country music fill the silence. He started in on fixing you breakfast, silently praying that you would want to stay for it.

  “I must've been through about a million girls

  I'd love 'em and I'd leave 'em alone

  I didn't care how much they cried, no sir

  Their tears left me cold as a stone”

  The familiar lyrics of a song filled the air around Jack, and he found himself smiling to himself. He moved around the kitchen and then he caught you leaning against the doorframe, hair ruffled and nothing but his shirt hanging on your figure. He knew in that moment, one glance at you, eyes catching yours. Both of your faces breaking out into smiles. The lyrics of the song rang true. Jack Daniels had fooled around and fell in love.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @kaqua​ @novemberrain221​ @weasleywinchester​

[the-forests-blessing]

Chapter 3

The next… afternoon comes much sooner than Lukas expected! 

     Our author snaps up into a sitting position, horror and disbelief spread across his features as he stares at the clock ticking on the opposite side of the room. It’s past noon! How on earth did he accidentally sleep in so late!? The blond throws himself out of bed and quickly begins to dress at a fast, albeit clumsy pace. Still drowsy from sleep, he doesn’t think much further ahead than getting his casual attire on. There isn’t a second to waste when there’s only so many hours left in the day! Dewey awakens in his spot on the bed during all the loud commotion, watching with wide emerald eyes as Lukas rushes to tug his pants on. 

     “Dewey! I screwed up!” Lukas kneels now, hurriedly tying the laces of his dress shoes. “I shouldn’t have stayed up so damn late reading those books. How could I be so careless?” Lukas huffs with frustration at himself. While he was totally invested in the ecological books he borrowed from the library yesterday, he also found himself restless with the yearning to go out and explore. Tossing and turning in bed, the insistent drive to finally begin his studies in the forest outside of BeaconTown kept him up later than he’d intended. 

     He races to his satchel on the table, gathers his notebooks by shoving them all in, then swings his bag over his shoulder and- oops forgot to get his coat on! Takes off the bag- gets his coat– okay there. Now he wraps the strap over his head and shoulder and- “Come on, Dewey!” Lukas calls from the door. Dewey stops mid-grooming session to spring into action. The ocelot bounces off the bed and sprints to the door like an excited puppy dog ready for his daily walk. 

     Down in the inn foyer, Lukas passes by the girl at the front desk. She perks up from her novel to address the disheveled male with a puzzled look. “Is there a back exit in this establishment by chance?” He asks breathlessly. “One that leads directly out to the grassy field behind the wall?” 

     “Y-you want to go out there? It’s awfully close to the forest.” She tells in a rather concerned tone. Lukas responds with a confirming nod. “I mean, there’s a fire escape in the back just down the first floor hallway. You can use that door, but it leads to the alley between our building and the wall.” 

     “And where’s the nearest exit to that?” Lukas asks. The girl opens her mouth to respond when suddenly Dewey hops up onto the front desk counter, delightfully surprising the woman. 

     “Aw! Kitty!” She reaches out, giving the ocelot a nice little head scratch. “Well I mean if you’re serious, there’s a hole in the wall from a creeper blast that’s been waiting to get patched up for months. The mobs have been spawning back there like crazy, so I advise you to be careful, not like that it’s anything compared to what’s in the forest, but still.” 

     “Okay thanks!” Lukas exclaims, scooping Dewey up with a squeak and quickly begins walking his way down the hall. 

     “W-wait!” She shouts, snapping her book shut. “Are you seriously going out there?” The front desk girl comes darting out from behind the counter to watch the man and his jungle cat rush down the hall.

     “Yep! Have a good day!” 

     And just like that, the two turn down another hall and out of sight. The girl stands there, absolutely baffled by the lack of concern the man portrays for his or his ocelots’ safety. “Welp. Probably won’t be seeing him ever again,” she shrugs casually and returns to her spot behind the counter.

     Outside, Lukas is blessed with the divine warmth of afternoon sunshine. He doesn’t waste his time basking in it, instead searching left and right between the exit door and the alleyway until he spots the blast hole gaping through the wall. The mossy stone wall in front of him looms tall, casting shade throughout the alleyway like a narrow river of shadow. On the left side is where the hole breaches through the protective barrier between town and field, something that could easily be patched up with dirt or cobblestone but, Lukas assumes, BeaconTowner’s probably don’t care at this point. “Come on, Dewey.” Lukas nods his head to follow and begins his approach to the opening. 

     He stops at the mouth of the opening, Dewey padding close behind. Looking down into the debris, he quietly admires the way the grass has already begun to grow between the rubble that remains from the creeper blast. Hopefully no one was harmed here , Lukas worries but decides not to dwell on the manner. He’s on a mission, and he’s already losing precious time! Casting his gaze down to Dewey, he watches his ocelot thrash his tail wildly with excitement. Lukas kneels, gives his ocelot’s bandana a quick tightening up and asks, “you ready?” 

     Dewey ready’s himself for a race, getting into position by hunching low and bending his legs for a mighty leap out into the grassy fields of freedom. Lukas stands, smirking. “A race? Sure!” I already know you’re going to beat me again. The blond braces himself, using one arm to clutch his bag close and the other to count his fingers down. “3… 2… 1… GO!” 

     Immediately Dewey bounces himself off the rubble and lands gracefully into the grass below. But he doesn’t stop there; the ocelot disappears into the tall grass as Lukas attempts to catch up, though he quickly loses sight of him. Lukas huffs out a soft laugh as he runs after his little jungle cat friend, catching sight of where the grass rustles, the sun flashing against the green stalks giving the novelist a clear idea of how far ahead Dewey is. Running through the field feels wonderful. The air is so clean, the smell of wet dirt and grass bathing his tongue and inciting a bright ray of optimism for the day. 

     The run to the tree line is about a minute and a half long. Long enough to make Lukas’ heart race with adrenaline as he finally approaches the end of the grassland. Eventually his pace begins to slow, coming to a jog and then a walk– then a dead stop. Lukas’ smile fades away, his eyes widening with surprise to the discovery of warning signs. They’re… everywhere. Plastered on trees and wooden stakes in the ground. “Danger! Do not enter!” “Authorized personnel only beyond this point” “Enter at your own risk” and… Lukas’ eyes land on a certain sign. Pinned to a tree, the sign reads, in all caps and red ink: “BEWARE: ADMIN”. 

     “Admin?” He wonders outloud. Lukas is familiar with this word, as it pertains to people with order of power in the redstone field. Typically Admin refers to someone who is in charge of redstone operations, and controls who and what goes where, and is typically the only person qualified to make changes. So this… Lukas narrows his gaze on the sign and without looking, rummages through his satchel and pulls out his dictionary. He quickly flips through it and confirms with himself of his own mental descriptions. He wonders what this warning could possibly mean. 

     A fern behind one of the tall evergreens rustles, causing Lukas to drop his gaze and watch in bated anticipation. As he’d expected, Dewey hops out of the fern and bounds to his side, sitting down in front of Lukas with a prideful chin raise at his successful race. Lukas chuckles, reaching into his bag to grab his ocelot a freeze dried minnow treat. “Good job, Dew. I don’t think anyone could beat you in a race.” He praises and tosses the minnow treat to his friend who swiftly catches it in his mouth without fail. 

     Lukas draws his attention back up to all the warning signs. “I guess we have another mystery on our hands, huh Dewey?” He says, glancing down at the ocelot who simply gives him a strange look. “Hah, sorry, hands and paws.” Lukas returns his dictionary back to his satchel and clasps the latch shut. “Well, these woods can’t be any more dangerous than the crimson forests of Norfair. I think we can handle ourselves, right buddy?” 

     Dewey tilts his head, looks away, tilts it back and looks at Lukas with an uncertain expression. Lukas just shrugs, “Well we didn’t come all this way to be stopped by some silly signs. Besides, remember what they’d say back at the ranger station? ‘The unknown always has a chance at leading you to discovery.’ …Jeez that's cheesy looking back on it now, but I mean, it’s still kinda true, right?” Lukas grins sheepishly, Dewey on the other hand is not amused. The ocelot just rolls his eyes and stands, turning to begin making his way into the forest. He stops at the mouth of the tree line, one paw off the ground as he looks back and waits for his owner to come along. 

     The moment Lukas steps into the forest, he feels a gentle breeze pass him, pushing its way into the forest from the outside world. He takes one look back at BeaconTown, his wandering gaze resting upon the massive tower looming in the sky, casting a great shadow over the town below, making it look so small… inferior to its mighty size. Lukas lingers for only a moment before turning back to the forest and, with one confident step, passes by the warning signs to turn back. His eyes narrow with set determination. The author begins walking in, following his ocelot as Dewey bounds ahead, hopping over fallen branches, twisting tree roots, and even the occasional tree cone. 

    “Watch out for the pinecones, Dewey.” Lukas warns his friend. “They can be found with sap attached to them, and you’ll absolutely hate getting sticky paws out here.” Lukas’ lips draw into a smile, humored by the acknowledging tail flick the ocelot offers him as he continues to venture ahead. He knows Dewey will keep a vigilant eye. For now, Lukas lifts his chin up with a smile, taking in the coniferous woodland surrounding him. 

     Just from the short time he’s already spent here, he can already name a few of the noble trees that keep this forest green all-year round. The pines here are the ones that bear pinecones, a small percentage of which produce the sap that Lukas warns his ocelot of. Although many cones lay out over the floors of this forest, each coniferous tree here, pine, spruce, fir, and tamarack, all produce their own unique cones in all their ovoid and globular shapes and sizes. Lukas stops his walk to lean down and pick a large cone off the forest bed, examining its scales thoroughly. He can see the seeds in the upper surface, igniting a fire of inspiration inside our explorative author. He sticks the cone in his satchel and continues forth, following his ocelot close behind. 

     As the two continue deeper into the woods, Lukas loses all thought revolving around the warning signs from earlier. Instead, he’s investing the most of his mental thought in the intrigue of the differing cones he’s come across and stuck in his bag for later investigation. He can’t help but notice how lacking of pathways this forest is. It’s a bit difficult to traverse on foot, making Lukas wish he’d fitted himself out in his adventure gear and travel boots, especially as the ground beneath his feet gets wetter. As expected, the rain from yesterday's downpour has thoroughly drenched the forest, feeding the trees and plants, as well as the wildlife that roam the roots and leaves of the floor, to the birds that fly from branch to branch above. 

     A tremulous twitter warning sounds above, drawing Lukas and Dewey’s attention to a frightened robin flitting away. Dewey thrashes his tail wildly at the idea of a hunt, to which Lukas quickly dismisses. “ No hunting, Dewey. I’m not going to let you kill another innocent critter just for you to not eat it again.” Dewey hunches low at the accusation, glaring back at his owner, annoyed. “Oh don’t give me that look. Maybe if you stopped playing with your food, then I’d let you hunt freely.” Dewey just shakes his head, lifts his nose up and turns away, leaving Lukas to linger in his spot, amused. “How can so much attitude be in one cat?” He mutters under his breath, but by the flick of Dewey’s black with white polka-dotted ear, he could tell the ocelot heard. 

     The two continue walking for longer than Lukas keeps track of. He can’t remember when he’d last looked back and realized they’d wandered away far enough to no longer see BeaconTown through the cracks between each of the individual evergreens. Even the bright blue skies have disappeared, replaced by endless trees and bushes. The sound of a loud, echoed knocking causes Lukas’ heart to leap with surprise. He looks around wildly, and when it repeats, he lifts his gaze up into the trees in the direction of the pecking. A woodpecker. In search of a meal, it focuses on drilling its sharp beak in poking holes into the trunk of one of the conifers. Lukas’ expression lifts positively, the blond snaking his hand back into his satchel to grab his notebook. 

     Dewey waits, impatiently kneading the ground whilst Lukas takes his sweet time making note of the bird. As time continues to draw on, the two are stopped every few minutes so Lukas can log in another finding. He’ll find an object of interest, whether it be plant or animal, make note of its appearance, saving it for later studies. He’ll be here for three months after all; he’s got plenty of time to explore and scour the forest for all it has to offer! 

     As they continue deeper, Lukas is finding himself climbing up more slopes, making a mental note of how deep in each incline is. The first one comes along about a half-hour into their adventure. He’d struggled a bit, wishing once again that he’d brought his adventure gear instead of his casual attire. If only he hadn’t slept in! His thoughts would have been far more reasonable with him. Instead he’d fallen into a rush to get out the door. Lukas sighs, staring down at the mud and dirt that clings to the soles of his feet. 

     No matter, a simple wash back at the inn will clean them right up. Lukas flicks his gaze over to Dewey, his ocelot currently sitting on a tree stump, grooming his own dirtied paws. Lukas’ eyes wander, following the fallen down tree that once stood as part of that stump. The massive log now lay defeated, resting upon another steep slope. The blond looks around, finding no other way to really get up any higher from this point other than to make use of the fallen tree itself. Determined, Lukas sets forth towards the massive log, splaying his palms out over its dampened bark and pressing inward. The structure is still stiff and sturdy. It will do doubt be able to support his weight. Lukas adjusts his bag to lay across his back and steps up onto the tree. One foot, then the second, he quickly finds his balance with ease. 

     “We’ll be doing a bit more climbing from this point, Dewey.” Lukas says from his elevated stance over the ocelot. Dewey stops grooming and looks at him, adjusting himself with his tail over his front paws and waiting patiently. Lukas turns and, with the experience he has, makes it across the log without slipping. It’s a slow process, but better safe than sorry. He hops off the tree and lands in the grass on top of the slope with a light ‘thump’, then looks back at Dewey. “Alright, your turn, buddy.” 

     Dewey leaps to the log with a light trill. He quickly runs up the dead tree, his long tail high in the air as he crosses and joins the author at the top. 

     “Nicely done.” 

     The two continue onward. Nearly an hour into their hike, Lukas has his nose deep in one of his empty maps. He uses this one as a landmarker, making note of unique spots in the forest to help guide him. One in particular was a very elegant mossy boulder, while the other was the dead tree that helped the two reach further into their destination. More hills and slopes come and go, thankfully nothing as grand and impassable as the previous one. It doesn’t take long for Lukas to lose himself in his thoughts, scribbling the length they’ve walked into his map in progress. 

     “Mrrrowl,” Dewey’s gravelly meow makes Lukas perk up from his work. 

     “Hm? What’s wrong?” Lukas finally looks up from his map sheet, his teal eyes widening with surprise at the dense layer of fog that lies before him. The forest around him has darkened since the last time he was keeping proper attention to his surroundings. He quickly looks down, rolling up his sleeve to check his dark, navy blue watch on his left wrist. Evening will be coming soon, Lukas realizes with a regretful twist in his gut. This is all because he slept in and wasted so much of his day. They’ve hardly breached the surface of what the forest holds! Lukas sighs, downcast at the idea of going back so–

      Rustle rustle…

     Lukas and Dewey both lift their heads up quickly to the sound of rustling in the tree branches overhead. Curiously, there’s nothing there. Lukas quirks a brow, then turns his head down and looks at Dewey. “Let’s keep going a bit further. I presume the fog indicates we’ve just entered a higher elevation.” Dewey looks worried at the sound of this but doesn’t argue with it. Instead of bounding ahead with confidence, he decides to linger back with Lukas, walking with him by his side. 

     The fog here, Lukas can’t help but notice, is nothing like he’s ever seen. It carries an eerie blue hue to it, one that makes Lukas wonder what kind of natural phenomena is the cause. Surely the green needle clusters on the trees don’t affect the light that passes through the branches and into the fog? Lukas can’t help but find unwavering interest, craving to understand. So he ventures further and further, and the more he walks, the more he begins to realize that not only does the fog carry a blue hue, but so do the plants as well. The conifers have darkened, their trunks a dark, strange blue and the bark stretching over them is more twisted and unnatural. The hanging branches above are their own dark, shadowy night skies above. Creators, even the ferns and grass have changed colors. 

     Another rustling sound makes the blond freeze and this time, spin on his feet to look up at the trees only to, once again, see nothing. The sound does not appear again and instead, leads Lukas to a skin pricking tension, realizing how silent the forest has become. There is no breeze or twitter of birds. There is only the crunch of dead pine needles and leaves beneath his feet, and the peculiar rustling that seems to be… following him. 

     Lukas narrows his gaze on the branches, hesitating as he attempts to catch any form of movement. Instead, a drop of rain landing on his nose nearly tears the soul right out of him. He flinches strongly, shaking his head as his heart begins to race wildly, anxiety clutching at his gut like a giant fist. Lukas turns his attention down to Dewey, his ocelot meeting his gaze with just as similar of a fearful expression as he has. “Y-y’know, it’s actually getting pretty late. Maybe we should head back?” Dewey nods quickly in agreement. “Okay, cool, cool. We’re on the same page then. Let’s get back before the rain comes again.” 

     Lukas quickly turns around and, for the first time in his life, stops with a stomach dropping realization. He looks around hurriedly, looking at all the trees and bushes, trying to remember which way they’d come from. Anxiety begins to make his hands shake, and another raindrop atop his head only makes the urgency to get his map out all the more dire. “O-okay, here,” he draws his finger down, wincing at his lack of progress. “Alright, this way,” Lukas nods his head towards the direction he believes in. “This is our way back, let’s go-OOooH!” 

     A horrifying drop. 

    Lukas shouts as the ground beneath his feet breaks, terror snapping his eyes wide open as he stares into the dark pit that gradually swallows him. It all happens so quickly. He plummets deep into a steep, muddy hole, making contact at the bottom with a painful “oof!” Lukas’ heart is racing and it takes him a moment to properly process what had just occurred, as well as the pain in his legs and butt from landing so obnoxiously unprepared. “Ugh..” A pale hand reaches up, rubbing at his forehead. Dazed and confused, he groans as he looks around this… this dirt hole. “W-what in the world?” Lukas grunts as he rises to his feet, seething at the pain that runs through his knees. “Ah.. ouch.” 

     “Mreeowl!”

     !

     Lukas looks up finally and, to his horror and dismay, finds himself several blocks deep in a hole. A manually dug hole. No way does a hole this narrow and deep form without human interference. Dewey’s little head pokes out from opening, the ocelot looking down at his owner with extreme worry. “Dewey! Are you okay?” Lukas shouts. Dewey meows again, then reaches his little speckled arm into the hole, clawing desperately at the air. 

     “You stay right there! I– I’ll look for a way out!” Lukas directs Dewey, the ocelot sitting back with his head low and ears flattened. The blond looks around the hole, searching for any roots or rocks to use as leverage to get himself out. It’s no use. The hole is dug through nothing but solid dirt. Even reaching out and clawing at the earth with his hands only makes the packed dirt crumble a few measly specks. Another droplet of rain draws his attention to look back up. The sky, or what most he could see of it through the fog, has darkened significantly. Like a shadow blanketing the landscape. Okay… Now is officially the time to panic.

     “D-Dewey! I… I don’t think there’s a way out of this on my own!” Lukas shouts from the bottom of the hole. Dewey responds to his words with a worrisome chitter, standing and clawing at the air between himself and Lukas again. Lukas’ heart breaks at the ocelot’s futile rescue attempts. “Dewey, no, you’ll fall! Listen to me closely.” The author urges. “I need you to run back to town as fast as you–” more rain interrupts him, and this time it’s heavier droplets that send a chill of horror down the man's spine. Adrenaline kicks into high gear, anxiety clutching his heart and taking the air out of him. “Run to town and get help! F-from the guards or— or the hunter’s! Anyone!”

     Dewey hisses at the very idea of leaving his friend behind. He shakes his head and scrunches his nose. 

     “Dewey, you have to!” He pleads. The rain begins to strengthen, now pattering the dirt at the base of the hole. Lukas looks down, and with a quick realization process, examines what it was that tricked him into thinking this was the forest floor. A dense blanket of leaves, weaved together perfectly to create an illusion of leaves on the ground. This… this is a pitfall trap. Whoever made this hole made it with the purpose of trapping some unknowing victim. Lukas’ brows knit and he snaps his head up, his mind immediately wandering back to the hunter’s Radar spoke of yesterday. Lukas glances up now, and to his dismay and relief, Dewey has disappeared. “Oh, Dew… Please be careful.” Lukas rests his back against the dirt, disbelief and anxiety forming a nasty ball of nausea in his belly. He… cannot believe this is happening. It was all so sudden. 

     The rain continues to fall… 

     Lukas stands in a puddle of slowly rising water. His teal eyes blurred as tremendous, body shuddering bouts of fear shake him to his core. His blond head thumps against the dirt wall behind him, his eyes rising up the wall, once again searching for a way out. He does another inventory check for the third time within a five minute timespan. He brought nothing but the clothes on his body and the books in his bag. He’d never expected to land himself in a trap of all things. The warning signs didn’t mention anything like this! 

      Authorized personnel only… Lukas recalls.

     It must be those hunters. It’s the only plausible reason for traps in the woods where animals inhabit. But… Lukas looks up and down the hole, deeming it close to a seven block stretch at the very least. What kind of animals are they trapping that need a hole so deep? The most Lukas saw on the way out here was a field mouse scurrying around some tree roots, in search of seeds, as well as the numerous bird species he’s since logged for extensive research in the future… 

     Lukas hangs his head low, feeling so… so stupid. He went through all those years of training, traveling the world, exploring the Nether, all for it to end like this. Lukas closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and shoves his hands against his face. Stupid stupid stupid. His feet shift only slightly, causing the water at his feet to stir lightly. He peers down, genuinely disturbed by how quickly the water at the base of the hole is beginning to rise. His soaked shoes and socks are the least of his worries as of right now though. The rain is pouring, so sudden and out of nowhere! As time draws on… And with no sign of Dewey… Lukas’ need for panic strengthens tenfold. The water has risen a little past his ankles, and it’s only growing more steadily. Tears sprang to his eyes, fear that his life and everything he has worked up to could truly possibly end tonight. 

     In a last attempt at salvation, Lukas calls out, “Hello!?” He waits… watching the opening above. No go, there’s no one around to help him. He begins to shake horribly, fear entangling his heart like thorny vines. “P-please! Anyone!” He tries again, panting as he begins to rapidly lose his breath to anxiety. “Oh no… Oh no no no no…” The soaked blond crouches in a puddle of defeat. The rain pelts his head and back, drenching him of his sorrows. He clutches at his satchel, as it’s all that he has to hold onto as he waits for rescue to arrive or… “P-please–” he sobs into his bag.

     In the midst of the rain plopping into the puddle at his feet, Lukas catches the sound of something else. It sounds… elegant. Like a chiming trill, completely inexplicable. Lukas opens his eyes, his brows knitting with confusion– until he looks up. What he sees absolutely stuns him to his core. He actually has to rub his eyes in disbelief to make sure he’s not just seeing things. A creature of fables and fairytales, one of which Lukas has been exploring all over the world for. It presents itself in a soft, blue glow. Its naturally illuminated, baby blue body is small, but too big for Dewey to consider to be a play-thing. It trills from the opening of the hole, looking down at an absolutely amazed Lukas. An allay!

     The author hurriedly reaches for his notebook, getting his hand past his satchel's flap before he’s stopping himself. What am I doing!? I can’t just write about this now! I’ve got to get out of here! He gives himself a mental slap for his own idiocy, looking back up at the little allay that continues to stare curiously down at him. 

     “H-hi…” Lukas begins with a soft, friendly tone, unable to shake the tremble of excitement and fear out of his voice. “ Please… W-would you be able to help me out? I— I’m so scared to die in this hole, please , if there’s anything you can do to help me.” Lukas clasps his hands together, pleading with the little fairy. Its white eyes reflect the clouds of the Aether, blinking down at the human, captive in his hole. It chimes a sound so elegant, it snags the adventurer's heart instantly. The allay lifts itself from its perch and glides down into the hole with ease. It’s blue aura following it, lighting the dirt up in blue light until it comes face-to-face with a truly awestruck Lukas. “I can’t believe it,” he draws out without thinking, unable to take his eyes off the mystical creature of legend. “You’re absolutely beautiful… Radiant light itself.” His gentle voice is filled with wonder, looking upon the creatures he’s practically waited all his life to finally see.

     To think it would be here in this muddy, seemingly inescapable hole of all places.

     The allay laughs softly at Lukas’ compliment, a sound so kind and charming, like pulling the strings of a regal harp. Its solid white eyes shut happily, expressing what little joy it can with only eyes and no other facial features but that. Lukas watches the fluttery little creature ascend the shadowy hole, its blue light rising, then quickly vanishing, leaving Lukas to once again succumb to the darkness. Silence returns in the most haunting way imaginable. Lukas stares up at the hole, his eyes shining with emotion. Without the allay’s light, the hole has never felt darker. He’s never felt more alone. And he always feels alone. 

     If he is to truly die here, drowning pathetically in a pit of mud, then at least he got to meet an angel before succumbing to his harrowing fate.

     ~

     He raises his head to face the clouds that pour mercilessly upon him, rendering him helpless and nauseated with the idea of dying in a muddy pitfall. There’s beauty in the sound of rain, though he finds no comfort in nature's song this time. The rain is deafening, and the dense fog is beginning to creep down the unstable muddy walls that surround him. It’s ghostly blue hue he realizes is truly haunting, as it is interesting. The dense gray clouds above mute the moon's light, his only source of comfort as he feels his fears further choking him up. Anxiously, and so horribly worried for his and his little companions safety, he must put all his faith in his beloved ocelot who’s just as unfamiliar with this tumultuous terrain as he is. Although with every anxious thought brings his spirit down lower than the dirt he’s stuck in.

     Absolutely ridiculous he rushed out of his hotel room without even truly grabbing supplies. Not even a lantern... He can only shake his head at his own behavior, regretting staying up late now more than ever. He was simply so curious and inquisitive about this new, what he truly believes in beautiful biome. Despite where he is now... You know what they say about curiosity and cats? Lukas can only drop his gaze back down to the muddy, drowning roots in front of him.     Please let nothing happen to Dewey.

     He never thought himself one to feel helpless so quickly, to give in to defeat. As time draws on, the allay does not return. Stricken with desperation, he keeps shouting for help to no avail. Lukas leans his shoulder against the softened dirt wall, growing tired and colder by standing in the middle of the hole. For he cannot cry as much as one would think, he’s getting tired and his throat exhausted from shouting for help. He takes a deep breath, smelling nothing but earth and rain. Feeling soaked, sodden with mud. His hair emitting a stream of rain unto his crossed arms. Holding himself for warmth, he tries to focus on listening for Dewey. Even as hopeless as it seems, he knows his ocelot will do his best to return. 

     It’s then he hears the unsettling sound of a zombie's growl, there’s no denying the muffled groan that follows the sound. Lukas looks up, cringing and bracing himself at the idea of being sniffed out like a piece of prey. He sends a silent prayer to the stars and closes his eyes again, trying to imagine how close the mob is. There’s only one from what he can tell, so he steps away from the wall and stares upward toward the edge.     The earth above him shakes without warning, what sounds like bushes being trampled by something… big. Very big. Lukas swallows, his fear running down his spine and making his body tremble. He gasped as the mob went flying over the hole, dying upon impact somewhere he couldn't see. He breathes out as he gradually becomes unsteady on his feet, anxiety gripping his heart relentlessly.

    He hears the trees rustling, and branches breaking as it encroaches upon him. But before he can see anything, the forest falls unnaturally still, all noise ceasing and only leaving the downpour. Lukas falls silent and shivering, holding himself as he tries to keep some semblance of warmth.     His heart flutters with confusion as the allay appears again. Illuminating his darkening horrors with its icy blue light. “It’s you! You came back!..” Lukas calls, still terrified, but thankful for its company. “Please don’t leave, I-I really..” Lukas’s heart drops as the allay turns tail and goes out of sight again, immediate hot tears pour down both his cheeks as he stands frozen. It’s nearly pitch black. He can’t even speak. He covers his face, and runs his hands down his flushed features. Frustration squeezing his heart he opens his mouth, “Come back! Please, I need help! I’m.. I’m getting really tired! I won’t hurt you..” Lukas tries, pleading with the creature he cannot see.     He sees its blue light illuminate the branches of the trees above as it flies, Lukas’ eyes glittering with its beautiful, flickering light. It’s then a shadow overtakes the allay’s light, his stomach drops as his heart halts within his chest.     A predatory glare is staring back at him. An aura in the air has him immobile, and under judgment. A massive unmoving shadow and its intimidating, yet gorgeous illuminated gaze looks down upon him from the shadows above. Everything around them is so dark, all he can see is its partial outline of a massive figure. Whatever this thing is, it seems to be what the allay brought..     “H..hi..” Lukas grunts as his entire body goes weightless. “Whoa!” Lukas struggles for only a second before he is lifted from the mud. He breathes audibly, staring into the eyes of the shadow that lifts him. He’s lifted higher than the hole, his stomach clenching with a new wave of uncertainty as he’s lowered to the ground yet.. Not quite allowed to touch it. The shadow stays beyond his perception. It's then he’s lifted to the entity's face. Its eyes locked onto Lukas’, glaring into the human's mystified gaze as if it bore straight into his soul. Goosebumps rise and Lukas feels his mouth go dry, staying silent.

     Lukas is then pushed further away without warning, weightlessly tossed across the pitfall to safety. Lukas doesn’t hit the forest floor hard, landing in soft moss and dead leaves, but he does scramble to sit back up and onto his knees so he could see who pulled him from the pitfall.

     But there’s nothing. Nothing but the horrible trap he thought would doom him to an early grave.     The Allay and its magical trills are missing. The glaring shadow has vanished as well, its power having no residual, not on him and not on their surroundings. It’s then, and only then that he hears distant shouting. 

     ~ 

     Lukas is immobilized by the encounter he just faced. Even as the search party arrives, he’s unable to fully harness the ability to move, let alone speak. A soft, yet soaked presence suddenly presses onto him. Dewey presses his muzzle strongly against Lukas’ cheek, purring loudly with relief. A group of humans emerge from the shadows, carrying lanterns and flashy weapons as they enter the small clearing where the pitfall was set. 

     “Hey!” A man snarls the moment his piercing green eyes set upon Lukas’ muddy form. “What the hell do you think you’re doing out here? Did you not read the signs?” He leans down, getting in Lukas’ face, yet the blond offers no response. The man reels back, his eyes widened, searching the author and his surroundings before his glare lands on the triggered pitfall trap. “How did you get out of there?” He demands, turning aggressively fast back on the distraught blond. “Tell me!” 

     “Chill out, Aiden.” A gruff voice mutters from the small crowd of armed people. A burly man, built strong and tall, steps forward. Lukas flicks his eyes up to the man, though still incapable of speech as his mind and body attempt to process what just happened. “Step aside,” the man huffs, making the other shorter male, Aiden , back off slightly, but still lingering too close for Lukas’ comfort. The stranger offers out a large hand, Lukas taking a moment to consider it before lifting a shaky, cold palm to grasp onto his. The man helps him to stand, Lukas’ legs immediately threatening to give out beneath his exhausted weight. “Whoa there,” the stranger catches him, helping to keep him standing on his toes by keeping a firm set of hands on his sides. 

     “Jack.” Aiden speaks the name with rising frustration. “What are you waiting for? Question him!” 

     “I said cool it, Aiden.” Jack snaps back at the lesser male behind him. Aiden’s eyes widen, then narrow as he draws back to silence. Lukas looks at this Aiden person for only a second and can already tell this is one of the people he’s destined to avoid for the next three months. He doesn’t lend him his eyes for long, instead his tired teal gaze looks up to this Jack person, his eyes droopy, darkened from exhaustion. Jack ‘tuts’ his tongue, shaking his head and gives Lukas a firm pat on the back. “Let’s get yuh out of this rain, how ‘bout it?” Jack suggests, and Lukas could not agree faster. He nods quickly, but continues to keep his silence. 

     The walk back is extremely awkward to say the least. Lukas is in the presence of numerous strangers and, by the way Jack refuses to let go of his right shoulder, he feels like somewhat of a prisoner. Lukas glances back, washed with endless gratitude and relief to see Dewey pawing right behind him. His poor sweet ocelot is soaked from ears to toes. Lukas feels so horrible for putting him in this situation. How could he let this happen? With all of his survival training back with the rangers? Lukas cringes with embarrassment, cursing himself silently once again…

     Although.. His mind continues to wander back to the allay and that… thing that saved him. Whatever it was, it lifted him from that deep, muddy pitfall without even doing so much as laying a single finger on him. Lukas felt nothing but this weird feeling of pressure encompassing all around his body as he’d floated up to the top of the hole, only to be then tossed off into a mossy bed beneath a passive pine. Lukas stares straight ahead, his vision shaking and blurring as he envisions that glowing set of eyes glaring back at him. Was it a mob? A person? He wonders. Lukas’ gaze descends to the forest floor, watching his own feet trudge clumsily along as the group continues to press towards the end of the coniferous biome. 

     “So, I’ve been meanin’ to ask you,'' Jack says, breaking the silence for Lukas and the rest of the group. “What’s your name?” 

     Lukas feels his skin prickle with goosebumps, aware of the glare piercing his muddy backside. He doesn’t want to respond. He’s too tired, and most definitely uncertain of sharing his personal information with these people, but he knows when he has no choice but to comply.

     “Lukas,” he mutters under his breath. 

     “Lukas.” Jack repeats, emitting a thoughtful hum before continuing, “what brought you all the way out into these woods tonight, Lukas?” 

     Lukas closes his eyes, breathing in and holding his breath before sighing out heavily. “I’m an author. I’m doing ecological studies for a book I’m writing. That’s what brought me out here.” Jack chuckles softly in response, the sound causing Lukas to finally look up at the man fully. The brunette’s features are adorned by a well groomed beard. His left eye is foggy, resembling a crystal clear ice lake, while his right eye is dark brown like the dark trunks of the conifers that surround them. 

     “Is that all?” Jack asks with no concern in his deep, gravelly tone. “Well, I gotta ask you, kid.. How the heck did you make it out of that pitfall?” The burly man glances down at Lukas again, and this time, Lukas feels a change in the aura of the group. The moment Jack asks his question, Lukas can hear the adjustment of weapons from the armed men and women in the small group. Something seems… off. He can’t quite put the pieces of the puzzle all together at once, so he diverts away from his story, making one up. 

     “I climbed up,” he says in a shallow whisper. 

     Jack raises a scarred brow, narrowing his eyes up at the blond. “ Climbed up? With all that mud and–”

     “Yeah, climbed up,” Lukas interrupts with a rising prickle of annoyance. “I used to be part of a ranger squad who specialized in ecological conservation a few years back. We’d get ourselves into trouble like this all the time. Just need to know what you’re doing and how to do it, and uh,” Lukas shrugs, “well, when your life is kinda at stake, you tend to put everything you got into it.” What Lukas says seems to have worked. Jack returns to silence, eyeing the blond with skepticism before confirming with a nod.

     “You’re pretty tough for a scrawny guy. I respect it.” 

     “Gee thanks…” 

     The rest of the walk back to BeaconTown is completely silent. Once they reach the town’s gates and dip in past the guards, Jack dismisses his squad with a curt nod. One of the men leaves without a problem, a girl following close behind. This other man, the short haired brunette from earlier, lingers too long for Lukas’ comfort. Aiden stands behind Jack, his face set with an unmoving angry expression that the author truly cannot understand. He’s never seen this man in his life, yet he looks at Lukas in a way that makes his blood run cold. Lukas glares back at him only for a second before turning away, returning his attention to Jack, the apparent leader of the group.

     “I said you’re dismissed Aiden.” Jack repeats, glancing over his shoulder. “Go.” Aiden merely scoffs, shaking his head and mumbling something intelligible. Lukas glares at him as he goes, walking off down Beacon’s mainstreet, eventually disappearing somewhere in the darkness. 

     “With all due respect, what’s his problem?” Lukas asks, unsure if he’s stepping out of line with the question. 

     Jack merely sighs, shaking his head. “It’s complicated.” 

     Lukas sulks where he stands, completely drained of all the energy he felt during the afternoon run under the sun to the tree line. Jack looks up at him sympathetically, offering him a pat on his muddy forearm. 

     “Glad this ocelot of yours found us. I was in the middle of my evening cup of tea when this little guy came sprinting into town. Saw us at the café and, heh, you would’a gotten a real kick out of it. His tail was as fluffed and pointy as the trees you lost yourself in.” 

     Lukas isn’t sure he can find the same humor in that as Jack can. Lukas looks down at Dewey with a very worried expression. He feels guilty for what he’d gotten his ocelot into. The fear he must have felt. Lukas hangs his head low with sorrow, truly apologetic for his actions, or lack thereof. “I’m so sorry for worrying you, Dewey. I promise it won’t ever happen again.” Lukas leans down, petting his precious friend atop his soaked head. 

     “I sure hope you don’t.” Jack says suddenly, grabbing Lukas’ attention once again. Jack’s voice has strengthened into something stern and serious. His expression too has darkened with an emotion Lukas can’t quite place. “You heed those warning signs next time. Do not enter those woods again. It’ll cost you nothin’ but trouble, y’hear me?” 

     Lukas opens his mouth to argue, but finds something restraining his heart, feeling as though he were restrained by chains pulling him back from what he wants to say. Instead, Lukas casts his gaze down and slowly nods, earning himself an approving hum from Jack. 

     “Good. That’s what I like to hear. You take care of yourself, Lukas. If you return to those woods, I won’t promise you’ll be making it back out.” Jack warns stiffly. After that, the man spares no more time with him, leaving Lukas to stand alone in the pouring right. Caked in mud and soaked from head to toe. 

     When he gets back to his room at the BeacInn, Lukas’ first instinct is to shower. He spends a long, long time under the hot stream of water, letting the warmth wash over and relieve his aching, tired muscles of all the stress and cold he’d undergone down in that mucky hole. Even with the harrowing embarrassment he was subjected to through that long trek back to BeaconTown, he can hardly pay any mind to it. His mind focuses all of its remaining energy back to the allay, but most of all, back to that massive shadowy entity that pulled him from the hole with what Lukas could only describe as magic itself. 

     When he leaves the bathroom, the rest of his hotel room is dark. Before he’d attended to his own shower, he had aided Dewey with a quick towel drying session, taking off his bandana to get that dirt splattered accessory cleaned too. Lukas shuts off the light, exiting the bathroom in his pajamas now. The only light he is granted is the dim natural light filtering in through the windows from the outside world. The rain has since softened, now nothing more than a late evening sprinkle. Lukas hesitates getting into bed, even as his body aches from his fall earlier. Instead, he approaches one of the windows again and looks out, gazing upon the tree line.

     That creature. The one the allay brought to him. It saved him and… Lukas didn’t even have a chance to thank it. 

     Lukas’ eyes narrow on the trees and their shadows, already making up his mind. He can’t just avoid the forest because some strangers warned him not to. Especially not now. There’s something in there Lukas needs to understand, and he will do anything in his power to ensure he gets there.

[angelosearch]

Tag game for fanfiction authors!

This one has been in my drafts for a while, I forgot where I got it from oops!! Tagging @tr1ck5 @suleikashideaway @gardengalwrites @aleheartilly @mathiwrites @waltzforthemoon @summonerluna and anyone who wants to join in!

Tell us:

The story you're proudest of: It's got to be Eyes of the Storm. It's a FFVIII AU but honestly, I don't think you need to know FFVIII at all to read it. It's magical realism with a lot of focus on place and nature and that's the kind of stuff I've wanted to write in long form for my whole life. I am so proud of it I kind of want to shake everyone I know and get them to read it.

Your story that's gotten the most love online: TECHNICALLY, Chaos Theory, but that's only because I've been posting it for a while and it's 21 chapters. In terms of Kudos per hits, I'd have to go with Silver Anniversary.

Tease a current WIP or idea you're working on: I'll give you two! First, a bit from A New Beginning's sequel (The Sorceress Awakens). This is from chapter one of three, "The Commander Dreams Again."

Squall nodded as though he’d been dismissed and started walking toward the door. “Hey wait son—I MEAN, son-dier! SOLDIER! No, Commander, Commander Squall? SQUAMMANDER—” “What, Laguna?” “Uh.. I just, uh…” Shit shit shit! He already looks annoyed! Gotta change the subject! “Uhh, what’s Rinoa up to these days? I’m surprised you didn’t bring her with you!” Perfect save, hell yeah! Squall looked away, and then to the floor. “She’s just busy, she couldn’t come.” And before Laguna could ask any further, Squall stepped out of his office.

And then a bit from the next chapter of Chaos Theory, "Part IV: The Edge of Chaos | Suspended Animation"

But there was another face there beyond his own. He could see his father’s features across the terrain of his countenance, filling him with a tightening ball of emotions too complex to name, nonetheless untangle.   Most people told him he, luckily, resembled his mother, but Laguna was there, hiding along his brow bone and around his jawline. His reflection reminded him that he had been behind that man’s face, felt the things he felt, thought the things he thought, and it made it worse to realize how much he and Laguna had in common. It had been simpler to just see Laguna as a man that lived up to the shoddy expectations of the people of Winhill, as a guy who pushed him away and let him down intentionally, and hate him for it. Now an entirely different picture had been painted for Squall, and it was hard to reconcile his long-held beliefs and tinted experiences against the formerly unseen reality.

Also, I have this project I've got bouncing around in my head called "Odine Asylum" which hopefully I'll try to put on a page soon.

Your top 3 fandoms: Final Fantasy VIII, Hazbin Hotel, The Locked Tomb!

Your top 3 ships: Squall x Rinoa (FFVIII), Trevor x Sypha X Alucard (Castlevania), Thrawn x Eli (Star Wars Thrawn novels)

Rec someone else's fic: UGH this is SO HARD so I am just going to go with the fic I've read most recently (there were moments that had me cracking up): Dirty Boots.

Pick one!

Fluff or Angst (but why not both?)

Oneshots or longfics

Canon compliance or canon divergence

AO3 or FF.net

[mars101]

Act 10: -> Scene 3: "What do you want me to do now?"

WRITTEN PART -> (0.4k) -> ss after text

Younghoon's words saying “I still love you” went in through one ear and out the other. Y/n didn't process it at first. She didn't want to process it at all.

“You what?”

“Y/n, I love you.”

If it were the past, Y/n would find herself running into his arms and waiting to be spun around. But twenty years have passed.

“No. Younghoon, why are you doing this? What gives you the right to just come back and say this to me, expecting me to run into your arms?”

“I know that wouldn't have happened because things always change. People change but—”

“Feelings change too, Younghoon.”

“Mine haven't. You've always been in the back of my mind. Only coming out when my eyes are closed and my free thoughts roam about.”

Younghoon takes a chance with a single step forward. Taking another when he sees Y/n not making a move away from him.

“And Y/n it's looks like your feelings haven't strayed considering you're still on this island—” At his words Y/n takes a step back and puts her hands up to create space.

“I'm sorry? I'm still on this island because I made a living for myself here. Not because I'm waiting for some man from an old fling to come back for me.” She notices a splash of hurt glaze across his eyes but continues, “Okay? And I am doing really well by myself, with my daughter too! We don't need some—some middle-aged man to come around and tell us what to do.”

“Y/n please just listen—”

“No you listen here. Please just give me space to think.”

“About us?” Younghoon says with a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

“There’s isn't an us, Younghoon. Not since you left to get married—” A raise of the ring finger startles Y/n; she thought she was seeing a different finger for a second.

“Divorced her not even five months after the wedding. My parents never really knew my type. And there was someone on my mind 24/7 anyway.”

Heavy uncontrolled sighs leave Y/n, and she grabs a nearby chair to sit on. “What do you want me to do now?”

“Think.” Then he faces the other way, deciding to leave Y/n with her thoughts like she wanted.

synopsis = a day before her wedding day, Yin decides to find her father so he can walk her down the isle, the problem? There's three candidates: Lee Juyeon, Kim Younghoon, and Lee Hyunjae.

author’s note: oops i forgot to do an an anyways surprise !!

last/next

masterlist

taglist:

@boomhoon , @sanasour , @loonaluvz , @jaerisdiction , @cowsmicwu , @jundundun , @piripurora

[quinnhayden]

hey! I just finished rereading not the standard unit and I was completely re-blown away by how amazing of an author you are, and what good storylines youve created for this series!!! i CANNOT wait to see what is coming for cannon or future aus you will write and i am SO EXCITED for more domestic trio in the future!!!! if you are taking requests right now, I would really really really love to see a modern pre-serum steve with any version of quinn and bucky!!! just like a cute little first meeting or domestic fluff blurb/ficlet if you ever have time to write something like that!!! anyways, your writing is so amazing and I just can’t get enough of domestic Bucky in the 21st-century and I am a slut for any aus that contain him. keep being awesome!!!!

first of all...YOU ARE SO SWEET THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥹 also thanks for reminding me that i actually do have an AU that's been sitting unfinished for like two years. but it's basically modern!stevebucky with cap!quinn. bucky is an undercover shield agent that's assigned to watch over quinn out of the ice (like sharon in civil war). steve is his freelance artist hubby that doesn't know bucky works for shield, either. they're neighbors in clint's apartment building. so here! have steve finding out that quinn is soulmate! also let me shove my love for dragon age in here

As soon as Quinn opens the door and sees that it’s Steve on the other side, she slams it back in his face. “What’d I do?” Steve asks loudly because he doesn’t know she could hear him even if he whispered. She waits one whole minute before she slowly opens it back up, eyes narrowed at him. He holds up a plate of cinnamon rolls like he’s offering them up to appease her anger. She holds her glare a little bit more before she snatches the plate, turns around, and stomps away. She leaves the door open so that Steve knows he’s allowed inside.

“You told me I could be with anyone.” Quinn picks up the white video game case with a massive dragon on the front, red with some splotches of blood, body transparent so a person can see a few characters inside. It’s branded with the title Dragon Age: Origins. “I’ve tried and tried, but all Morrigan wants to be is friends!” Steve bursts out in a fit of laughter so loud and giddy that he clutches at his chest. She puts the case back on her coffee table, huffs, and angrily bites at a cinnamon roll, not caring that the icing will make her fingers all sticky.

“Sorry,” he breathes out when he’s done being a little shit. “I forgot that Alistair and Morrigan are straight.” He uses air quotes on that last word. He must think that it’s bullshit, too. “Also, in my defense, I honestly didn’t think that you’d be interested in a romance with her.”

“Why in the blue hell would you think that?”

“You seem like the kind of person that likes them soft and sweet like Alistair or Leliana. Morrigan is…a little mean and prickly at the start and you have to really work to be her friend let alone romance her as a male warden,” he explains carefully. “I didn’t think she was your type.”

She rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Oh, yeah, a pretty lady that can be mean and put me in my place. Real turn off there. Do you know how she reacts when you give her the mirror? Steve, she’s adorable.” Quinn almost cried, this little fictional character was so cute and awkward. Quinn sighs in defeat before she admits, “Alistair was my second choice.”

“If you had a gaming computer, there are things called mods where you can alter the gameplay. So, you could romance Morrigan as a female warden.” She hadn’t noticed that, under his plate, he had a stack of mail in hand, too. “Clint was downstairs and told me to tell you politely to, and I quote, quit sitting around playing games all day and get your fucking mail. The mailman can’t fit much more in your box.”

“Oops.” She blushes and meekly takes the mail. The topmost letter is from the Social Security Administration. “Oh. I think this is my Social Security card.” Phil had mentioned she’d be getting some important documents soon. She’s finally an official living person again with a Social Security card, updated birth certificate, state ID—the works. He raises a brow as she rips the letter open. “I lost a lot of stuff in the move between here and Kentucky.” It’s technically the truth. Steve simply doesn’t know that there were seven decades between the moves.

Steve’s in the middle of a sip of his coffee when she pulls out the Social Security card. “There. I’m official now,” she proudly declares and flashes him the card that has QUINN ESTHER HAYDEN printed across the front. She knows she’s supposed to keep it private, but she doubts Steve will try to steal her identity. “Well, I’m…back to being official,” she adds lamely, still going with her lie.

Quinn doesn’t expect Steve to suddenly choke on his drink and spit some of it out on the floor. She yelps and takes an automatic step back then rushes around the mess to pat him on the back. He jerks away from her reach, waving her off, and she leaves her arm hanging there, confused to hell and back. “I’m sorry!” Steve squeaks between coughs and clearing his throat. “I—it—wow! That went down the wrong way!”

“Do you need—”

“Nope! I am okay!” Quinn’s not so sure about that. His entire face is flushed and redder than a tomato. Also, he speaks in that loud way someone does when they’re nervous. “Just need my inhaler! I should—I have to work!” Then, he whirls around and barrels full steam ahead, but forgot he closed the door because he whacks right into it. Before she even has the chance to ask him if he’s okay because he’s clearly not, he leaves her apartment like a bat out of hell.

“Uh?” she says dumbly to the silence of her apartment.

[gendervapor14]

two fights for freedom ~ chapter three: hope remains

It was hard to miss him. Near impossible. The guy was a giant compared to the citizens flocking him, barking about their perks and their discounts. He had his arms full with a huge basket of goods, and some kid beside him was holding onto a growing armful.

“Who is that guy, Genzo?” Nami questioned sweetly, “I don’t recognize him.”

Neither did he. “Stay here, alright? I’m going to go interrogate him.”

“Stay here? In the middle of town?”

Her eyes batted innocently when he looked her way. Maybe that wasn’t the best advice in hindsight.

“Go back to the orchard, then. Help your sister.”

“Yay!” Nami threw her arms in the air exuberantly, bustling off towards her home. Bell-mère could chew him out for this later. There were more pressing concerns.

Nearby vendors hardly looked his way when he approached. Not with the berri signs glimmering in their eyes. “Hey, hey, enough.” Genzo called out, which finally warranted some attention. “Everyone get back to your booths.” He ordered with a strong extension of his arm. The stranger and his kid shifted their focus towards the authority figure. “You two. I don’t recognize you. Who are you, where are you from?”

“We’re travelers.” The blond spoke in a friendly baritone. His hair was a bit unkempt, all waves and curls from the humidity. Jeans, boots, a crisp, clean button-down. He wasn’t from the East Blue. “Call me Dante. And this, this is my kid, Paul.” He plopped a hand over the teen’s spotted hat. Hard to believe they were related in any way. Dark hair, darker, splotchy skin. At least he was wearing shorts. He offered nothing but a silent wave, while the other arm awkwardly managed the bulk of his basket.

“Travelers.” Genzo repeated, as the townspeople listened on in silent awe. “Why have you come here, of all places?” He eyed between them fiercely, “And how?”

“By…boat?” Dante’s reddish eyes darted about as he chuckled nervously. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how did you get past the Arlong Pirates?” Genzo bit out, tired of this blissful oversight.

“The…Arlong Pirates…?” That dopey grin started to melt.

oops i forgot to post this snippet on tumblr. here it is!! i just finished a draft of chapter 11 tonight and we're about 1/3 of the way done with my outline so she's lookin like she might be about 30 chapters. i think i should be able to keep up with the weekly posting for now.

title: two fights for freedom rating: M category: F/M, gen content warnings: graphic depictions of violence status: incomplete, three chapters, 9,637 words relationship: rosinante/bell-mere, cora & law, rosinante & hatchan, bell-mere & rosinante & law & nami & nojiko, rosinante & genzo, bell-mere & genzo characters: rosinante, bell-mere, law, nami, nojiko, genzo, nako, hatchan, arlong, arlong pirates additional tags: canon divergent, fix-it, everybody lives, pre-arlong park, angst with a happy ending, angst and feels, fluff and humor, hurt/comfort, scheming, suggestive themes, sexual tension, limes (yes i'm bringing limes back), eventual smut, romance, slow burn, arguing, financial issues, broken bones, references to depression, referenced alcoholism, mental health issues, canon backstory, mentioned doflamingo, non-canon backstory (giving bell-mere a backstory), found family, medical inaccuracies, blood and injury, trafalgar d. water law is a little shit, developing friendships, more tags to be added later (?) summary: freedom for one means adventure. exploring all the world has to offer, while avoiding the occasional haunting. freedom for another almost costs an arm and two daughters. a home, a village. perhaps freedom is best sought back-to-back. {a cora and bell-mère lives au}

♥

[lorenzobane]

Oh! It's evil author day. Have some of my Sweet Home Alabama!Garashir AU.

Summary: Chief Medical Officer Julian Bashir suddenly finds himself engaged to his new partner, Ezri Dax. Normally that would be a cause for celebration... Except for one minor detail. Technically, Julian is still married to someone else. A certain Mr. Elim Garak.

-----

Julian wakes up smiling as a series of sweet kisses pepper down his neck, and he squirms happily into his bedding to enjoy both sensations a bit longer. 

“It’s time to wake up,” an amused, sweet voice says, and he smiles unconsciously. 

“Five more minutes?” He asks, turning slightly so he can face the other body in his bed more easily. 

“You,” Ezri replies, her messy black hair spilling in every direction, “will be late. How did you make it to anything on time without me?” 

Julian grins more broadly. “I truly cannot remember now.” 

She smiles and flings blankets at his face. “Get up. I want breakfast before the staff meeting.” 

They go to ops together, hands lazily intertwined as they reach. Ezri breaks off before he gets to the senior staff meeting- without the war and Sisko, she is no longer technically considered Senior Staff. 

He greets everyone else at the table and nods jauntily at Kira. 

“You seem happy this morning, Julian,” Nerys says. 

“You make it sound so unusual,” Julian replies. 

She rolls her eyes and starts the meeting, and Julian opens his spreadsheets to his staffing needs and inventory. The rest of the staff circles around and discusses their weekly needs and inventory requirements- Julian makes sure to request more general analgesics, and they’re free to go. 

Thank god because he has something to talk to Kira about. 

“Nerys,” Julian calls as she starts to walk out of the room. 

She turns around, and Julian is struck by how much calmer she is and more content and in command of herself. She is a wonderful person and an even better friend. Which is why– 

“I have something to tell you!” 

“Well?” She replies, amused. 

“Well…” He trails off. “Well! I’m going to ask Ezri to marry me.” 

“Marry… you…” Kira repeats. “Julian! That’s… Wonderful! Truly, I’m very happy for you. But, well, are you sure? This is pretty sudden. You’ve only been dating for six months.”

Julian smiles softly, “when you know! Besides, I feel very calm around her. Content. I never feel too much of anything.” 

“And that’s a… Good thing?” Nerys asks. 

“Yes! Goodness, you of all people should know how, well, I can be a bit too much. And this relationship and Ezri are really helping. Of course, I love her too. Obviously. She’s remarkable.” 

“Well, in that case,” Nerys starts, though her smile seems forced, “I give you my blessing if that’s why you’re here.”

Julian laughs. “No! I want you to perform the ceremony. Though I am happy that you approve.”

“She’s already said yes?” Nerys asks, raising an eyebrow.

Julian smiles a bit sheepishly and says, “not just yet, but I’m confident!” 

She looks at him, exasperated and amused. “If she says yes, then, of course, I will.” 

Julian is practically walking on air for the rest of his shift, cheerfully blazing through bodily fluids and unhappy parents and research. He’s booked Ezri’s favorite holoprogram of a hike on Trill and asked Quark to pack a picnic with her favorite spring wine. He knows he’s vibrating by the end of his shift. Julian had come close to proposing once, with Palis on Earth, and he had planned it. 

But this is different, adult. 

He’s still lightly whistling when he realizes that he hasn’t talked to Miles today. Even though his shift is technically over, he jumps into his office in the infirmary and pulls up Miles O’Brien on the comm. 

“Julian?” Miles asks, a bit groggy. Oops, Julian forgot to consider the time difference in his excitement. 

“Miles! Sorry to wake you, I just… You know how I mentioned I was proposing to Ezri last week?” 

“Yes?” Miles says, a bit suspicious. 

“Well! That day has come; it’s today! I was hoping you could wish me luck.” 

Miles rubs his eyes but smiles. “I’m happy for you, Julian. Now, if you could save your good news for a time o’ day that isn’t the middle of the night, I’d also appreciate that.” 

Julian chuckles, letting Miles’ rough voice coast over him. “Sorry again. I’ll let you know what happens after dinner. Sleep well.” 

“Blood–” Then Miles stops suddenly and shakes himself. “Julian, really. I am happy for you. You’ve been lonely a long time, and Ezri’s a good girl. You could do a lot worse.” 

“Not sure I could do better, actually,” Julian replies, feeling quite warm. 

Miles chuckles at that. “Damn straight. Now, good luck! Once more unto the breach, and all that.” 

Julian shakes his head fondly and cuts the line. He looks at the time and sees he has just enough to get ready and meet her at the holosuite, which he does. He forcibly keeps down his anxiety and levels his pulse. 

He idly wonders how people without control over their nervous system manage to do this without fainting. 

“--And then Lieutenant Perfect tells me that I’ve misfiled my form,” Ezri continues as she leads him up the path. “It's not my fault that a genetically modified super genius designed the filing system for the medical department!” 

“Complaining about the boss?” Julian asks playfully. “I’ll have you know that my filing system is the envy of all. Just last month, Dr. Crusher visited and was in awe. Asked me to walk her through my file naming conventions.” 

Ezri rolls her eyes. “She only did that because she feels bad about sleeping with you when she was your medical ethics professor.” 

Julian huffs. “Unfair! You only know that because I told Jadzia!” 

Ezri’s face crinkles sweetly as she laughs at him, and Julian lets the sound fill his mind. As they crest the hike's summit, Julian takes a deep breath. The stunning natural beauty of the Trill homeworld is spilling out all around them. It’s perfect. 

Slowly, he approaches Ezri, still facing the remarkable vista, and lowers himself onto one knee. He knows that this is a human marriage custom that Ezri will recognize, and she had mentioned previously that she did not want a traditional Trill proposal. 

“Julian!” She says, still gazing out. “Look at–” 

Her eyes go wide as she sees him kneeling there, a small velvet box in his hand. 

“Julian– are you?” 

“Ezri,” he starts after a deep breath. “I know this might seem quick, but I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this calm around another person in my entire life. You make me happy, and I would like to spend the rest of my life making you happy. So, Ezri Tigan Dax,” he makes sure to include her pre-joined last name, “will you–” 

“Yes!” She cries, flinging herself at him.

“Marry me?” He finishes with a laugh, wrapping an arm around her and inhaling deeply. 

“Oh, yes,” she replies. Her stunning blue eyes are awash with tears, and her smile is so bright that he thinks he just might match it. 

He carefully pulls the necklace out of the box, explaining, “you work a lot with your hands. I didn’t want it to get caught on anything.” 

“Oh, Julian,” she breathes, “it’s beautiful.” 

And Julian Bashir is confident, at that moment, that nothing could bring him down. 

—---

“What the hell do you mean?” Julian barks, not quite able to help but glare at Kira, who looks like she’s going to laugh. 

“I mean, you can’t get married, Julian. You already are married.” 

Julian looks frantically over at Ezri, whose face is frozen and unreadable. “Ezri, I swear, I have no clue what she is talking about.” 

“I mean, you’re–” 

“How can I possibly be married? You’d think I’d remember a little something like that, given my perfect memory.” 

“I guess not that perfect, Julian. Because you got married about two years ago.” 

“What?” Julian replies, even more baffled now. “On the station? To who?” 

Kira is fully chuckling now, but Ezri seems to have thawed. 

“Remember that one mission where you and Garak went to Alpha Sigma IV?” 

“Yes?” Julian answers cautiously. 

“Well, it appears you got married there.”

[saellefanwork]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Reminder: This Demon Slayer fic is rated Mature (adults only) for canon-typical violence and eventual suggestive or explicit sexual content

Return to Chapters List

Chapter 28: Fated Love

Even the ceaseless flow of time Cannot fray the crimson thread Of our everlasting bond

Author Note: Here it is!!! The final chapter of this story. Wow. What an adventure. That's not completely over yet, since this story will still be uploaded later when I'll be creating artworks for it. I don't know yet if I'll put all of them directly inside the chapters or oustide of them. What do you think? Perhaps I'll also post some bonus chapters with cut scenes will see the light of day in the upcoming months if people are interested :D Thank you for your support! Hope you enjoy the final!

This Epilogue contains major KNY ending spoilers.

Cultural Insight: In contemporary Japanese culture, young women express their feelings on Valentine's Day by presenting chocolates to boys or men they are close to. These chocolates come in two categories: giri-chocos, typically affordable and store-bought, given to male friends and colleagues, and honmei-chocos, more personalized and expensive chocolates reserved for expressing love. White Day follows one month later, when boys or men reciprocate by gifting white chocolate and additional presents to the women who shared their feelings.

Additionnal Tumblr Note: Wowwww sorry Tumblr readers, I forgot to update it here for Valentine's day (it was on my Patreon/Kofi then on AO3/Quotev though XD) Enjoy a late Valentine's day now and here though ;)

Two centuries later

"Tojuro!" a voice urgently hushed. "Psst. Tojuro, hey, wake up before the sensei catches you!"

Sensing someone shaking him, Rengoku Tojuro swiftly opened his eyes, sitting up with alertness. He pushed his chair away noisily, standing upright and facing an invisible interlocutor.

"Sorry for the distraction, Dad. I'll do one hundred drills and clean the dojo as compensation!" he declared loudly.

A profound silence fell upon the classroom, the high school students and their teacher gazing in astonishment at the young man's unexpected interruption. The boy blinked his large eyes, looking around with a perplexed expression. Realizing the situation, he burst into laughter, scratching the back of his head.

"Ha! My apologies, sensei! I thought I was still in practice."

The teacher; who was known for being bad-tempered bordering to violent, glared at him with contempt. “That excuse again, uh…? I’ll show you what it means to slack off during my lecture, Rengoku!” he shouted angrily, breaking his chalk into his hand and throwing it at his student in a gesture of pure rage.

His wrath intensified when the boy effortlessly caught it mid-air.

"Oops! That's dangerous, sensei. Be careful it doesn't slip from your grasp again in the future."

Disregarding his teacher's crimson fury, the teenager walked to the front desk and returned the chalk pieces with a broad innocent smile. His comrades observed him with mouths agape, some finding amusement or even admiration in his unfearful demeanor, others struck by his obliviousness to the situation, and many nervously awaiting the teacher's response.

In the end, another teacher passing by intervened before things escalated, and Tojuro only faced additional chores and an extra assignment for discipline, coupled with abundant threats that his parents would be notified if he ever nodded off during a lesson again.

"You're truly passionate about kendo, Tojuro... to the point of not sleeping enough and dreaming about it in class," his best friend Kamado Sumihiko remarked as they exited the building. "It's admirable, but you should be more careful in school; your grades might suffer, and the teachers will start giving you a hard time."

"It's kind of you to worry, Sumihiko, but I've got it. Hey, do you remember your promise for today?"

"Yes..." sighed his companion. "I'll be attending the kendo session tonight."

"Great! I've got a set ready for you, just as we planned!"

Sumihiko smiled somewhat reluctantly, pondering how he found himself in this predicament. A week ago, the teenager had lost a bet against his best friend—or so Tojuro claimed. In reality, the young Kamado couldn't recall making any bet in the first place. However, the flame-haired boy had insisted so vehemently, narrating the bet's circumstances with such persuasive conviction, that Sumihiko eventually yielded, mostly to put an end to the matter.

Now, Tojuro was bringing him to his family dojo on the outskirts of Setagaya to introduce him to his favorite martial art. Once both were attired in hakama and keikogi, the senior handed the novice a bamboo shinai. As Sumihiko grasped the training weapon, he experienced a peculiar sense of familiarity, despite never having held a similar object before. They were in the middle of the fundamentals when a female voice interrupted them.

Emerging from the girls' changing room, you spotted Tojuro and a burgundy-haired adolescent of the same age, unfamiliar to you. You approached them with a smile, always delighted when you had some time to talk with the sensei's son. He was a bit younger than you, but unlike some boys his age, he wasn’t immature. In fact, he was friendly and enjoyable to converse with, and even his quirky antics looked cute to you. He was a passionate, good-hearted person, and a skilled kendo partner.

"Rengoku-kun! Did you come early to give your friend a tour of the dojo? Will you introduce us?"

"Ha! Senpai! Hello!! This is my best friend, Kamado Sumihiko; he's here to try kendo for the first time! Sumihiko, this is Nagase Himawari-senpai—she’s two years our senior."

You and Sumihiko exchanged warm greetings, an inexplicable sense of familiarity coursing through you despite it being your first encounter. A similar sensation had washed over you when you first met the Rengokus. The newcomer observed you with curiosity. He found you very pretty, but what intrigued him the most was Tojuro's reaction in your presence— he was losing composure, turning scarlet, and suddenly becoming overexcited. He spoke even louder than usual, and his companion winced in pain as his eardrums vibrated.

"Nagase-senpai is extremely skilled!" Tojuro almost shouted to his friend. "She's a regional champion!"

You responded with a casual gesture.

"Japan is full of talented people, and you're certainly one of them, Rengoku-kun. I'm just happy to practice an activity I'm passionate about with excellent partners like you," you said, winking at him. "Ha! Your father just arrived; the class is going to start."

You strolled away towards the gathering spot of the sensei and the rest of the club members. Tojuro stood frozen in place, looking lovestruck after that wink and unexpected compliment. Sumihiko watched him with growing curiosity, not used to seeing him react like this.

"Tojuro... Do you have a crush on your senpai?" he asked.

"Huh?! Is it that obvious?!" responded the boy with a shocked expression, his cheeks ablaze.

"Yes... and if it's a secret, you should speak more quietly... I see now why you're so dedicated to kendo," his friend added, amused.

"Huh?! No, of course not! I don't have such impure motivations! I've always loved kendo! Although, I must admit, it's even more enjoyable since she joined the club a few months ago..."

"Tojuro, Kamado, get over here!" thundered the sensei's voice.

"Scary…," muttered Sumihiko as he obeyed, while Tojuro seemed as cheerful as ever under his father's strict tutelage.

The training session unfolded smoothly, and the young Kamado proved to be a gifted student, just as his best friend had predicted. He found out that he appreciated the practice and the dojo’s atmosphere. Even though he doubted he could ever match Tojuro's fervor and commitment to the sport, the idea of becoming a club member and engaging in regular exercise began to appeal to him. Additionally, this decision would bring satisfaction to his mother, who frequently emphasized the benefits of martial arts for instilling discipline in him. Though, a part of his motivation was also linked to the potential romantic connection between Tojuro and you. He cheered for his friend and wanted to be there as support.

Several weeks transpired without any significant developments between you and Tojuro. Nevertheless, Sumihiko remained convinced of your particular fondness for the young Rengoku among the dojo members, even though determining whether it was romantic interest proved challenging at this stage. The issue lay with Tojuro: despite his typical lively and confident demeanor, he unexplainably lost his composure in your presence outside of training. For instance, when you suggested going somewhere, he readily agreed but consistently dragged someone else along, usually Sumihiko. Conversely, although it was evident he enjoyed spending time with you, he never initiated any plans himself. It was rather perplexing, and Sumihiko eventually brought it to his friend’s attention.

"I don't want her to feel pressured!" Tojuro explained earnestly. "Considering someone as kind and popular as Nagase-senpai, I can only imagine the constant stream of suitors vying for her attention. I wouldn't want to add my own insistent advances to that list. Besides, being the sensei's son, I worry she might feel obligated to accept my invitation. I'd rather let her take the lead in that matter."

"Our senpai is undoubtedly kind, but I believe she's more than capable of expressing a refusal," retorted Sumihiko. "If you never take the initiative, she might think you're not interested, and you could risk losing her interest altogether."

"What?! Really?!" Tojuro asked in a panicked voice.

""Furthermore, it doesn't explain why you don't go unaccompanied when she proposes going out," pointed out his friend.

"T-that’s because..." the other boy struggled to find an excuse, mouth wide open, blinking. No valid argument came to him. It was clear he was simply nervous about being alone with you.

"Next time, try going alone," Sumihiko suggested with a sigh. "I feel like a third wheel anyway when I’m around. Consider it a challenge, alright?"

"Hmm! I'll do that, then!" replied Tojuro, crossing his arms with determination, though fear was evident in his eyes. "Do you have any other advice, Sumihiko-sensei?!"

"I don't know much either," the concerned party defended with an embarrassed look, scratching the back of his head. "I'm just sharing my thoughts... Oh! It's Valentine's Day soon, right? It might be an opportunity to learn more about her feelings."

Tojuro's cheeks deepened in color at the mere mention of Valentine's Day. The event, which typically held little interest for him, had slipped his mind. The prospect of receiving chocolates from you alone was enough to quicken his heartbeat. He realized he needed to show you his affection before then.

In the following weeks, Sumihiko noticed that his friend took his advice to heart, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Tojuro seized every opportunity to suggest outings, even for trivial activities like visiting the vending machine or taking a short walk together. Fortunately, you appeared pleasantly surprised by your kouhai's spontaneous invitations and almost always accepted them when your schedule permitted. The two of you even exchanged numbers, and Tojuro seemed to be on cloud nine for several days, losing focus in class and receiving more scolding from his father and teachers. Thankfully, Tojuro's academic prowess helped cushion the impact on his grades.

Valentine's Day loomed on the horizon, and the tension among high schoolers grew palpable. Amid Tojuro's coping hyperactivity and Yoshiteru's incessant whining, Sumihiko found himself stressed about the upcoming event, even though collecting chocolates or not didn't matter much to him. Unable to keep up with his friends' antics any longer, he eventually advised them to directly ask the girls they liked if they intended to offer them chocolates.

As previously, Tojuro diligently followed Sumihiko's instructions and planned to broach the subject on your next stroll together through the city center, scheduled just a few days before Valentine's Day.

The date itself was delightful. You watched an action movie, delved into manga café, then spend some time in an arcade. At the end of the afternoon, both of you enjoyed crepes while sitting next to each other in a serene park. Despite the numerous opportunities that these activities had presented, Tojuro hadn’t dared to make a move on you once, fearing to make you uncomfortable. With each passing moment, his concern grew, and he started to fret whether he could even muster the courage to bring up the topic of chocolates with you.

"Earth to Rengoku, do you copy?" you playfully asked. He sent you a confused glance. It seemed like you had been talking to him for a while, and he wasn’t paying attention.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was deep in thought,” he scratched the back of his head, feeling a bit foolish.

"I was asking if you wanted to run a dojo like your father, Tojuro-kun?"

"Hmm...!" Tojuro crossed his arms, pondering an answer. This pose invoked a pleasant sense of familiarity in you, as if you had always known him to make this gesture, even though it was impossible: you had met a few months ago, almost a year now. "I think I’d rather become a teacher! I’m pretty fond of history, especially historical warfare. Maybe I could teach that. But I still plan to help my father at the dojo alongside my studies and future work, since I’ll probably inherit it someday.

"Being a teacher would suit you well! You have good grades, and you definitely have the charisma and patience for the job. You’re very likeable too. It will be amusing to hear you being called 'Rengoku-sensei.'"

Tojuro blushed. "Thanks. What about you? What would you like to do after your finals?" he inquired curiously.

"I'd like to become an athlete, but my family insists I should have a 'real' job on the side, just in case. I guess I’ll pursue a degree in accounting. That way, I could assist them with their martial arts equipment business while still chasing my dream."

"That's great! Let's give it our all, then!" Tojuro exclaimed, raising his hand for a high-five.

You grinned, meeting his enthusiasm with an energetic clap hands. Your fingers lingered a moment against his, maybe a tad longer than the typical friendly gesture. Or perhaps he was imagining it, because the contact felt too brief when you finally pulled away and stood up.

"Well... I have to go home. Thanks for today; it was fun."

"Thank you very much as well, Nagase-senpai!"

"You don’t have to be so formal with me, especially when we're outside the club. We’re friends now, aren’t we?" you inquired with a sweet smile.

He nodded enthusiastically, delighted to gradually break down the social barriers between you. As you readied yourself to put your bag back on your shoulder, he thought, "She's about to leave. This is my last chance to ask her."

"Nagase-senp-..., Himawari-senpai, are you planning to give me chocolates for Valentine's Day?"

If Sumihiko had been present, he might have facepalmed himself with a weary sigh at such a straightforward query. With an amused smile, you turned to your kouhai, crossing your arms in a teasing pose.

"Maybe… What kind of chocolates would you like, Tojuro-kun?"

Tojuro hadn't anticipated this question. Of course, he yearned honmei choco from you (chocolates for a loved one), but expressing that directly could be awkward if you were planning giri-choco (friendship chocolates). He didn't want to influence your decision.

He grinned and responded, "Whichever your heart desires! I'll gladly accept them, no matter what!"

Now it was your turn to blush intensely at this honest and romantic response. Typically, you were not someone easily thrown off balance.

"I... alright. Um... See you then, Tojuro-kun."

The much-anticipated Valentine's Day finally arrived the following week, and the school was abuzz with excitement. Teachers struggled to maintain order, as students were solely preoccupied by the expectancy of chocolate exchanges and their underlying meanings.

Sumihiko, being well liked by many girls in their school, ended up collecting a lot of giri-chocos. He also stumbled on a honmei choco accompanied by an anonymous love letter in his locker, sparking widespread speculation about the mysterious identity of the secret admirer. Yoshiteru, on the other hand, received only a fistful of giri-chocos, and most were made by his own family, much to his disappointment.

Tojuro, however, was crumbling under a mountain of chocolates. He didn’t refuse any, but when faced with what seemed like honmei gifts, he would take them with a pre-emptive note:

"Thank you very much! I hope these are giri-choco because my heart is already taken!"

In response, the girls hastily claimed they had indeed prepared giri-choco, even if it wasn't the case, eager to avoid an awkward rejection.

At the end of the day, burdened with the numerous sweet offerings tucked into his backpack and clutched in his hands, the young kendoka hurried to the dojo. Since this session was reserved for experienced students, Sumihiko went straight home after school. Already attired in hakama and armor, you greeted the sensei's son with a smile upon his arrival, but your exchange remained brief as training swiftly commenced. After the class concluded, you distributed chocolates to the club members to share, and also presented a box to the sensei, who graciously accepted them, placing them beside the ones his wife had made for him. Tojuro received nothing personal and had minimal interaction with you, as you found yourself engulfed in conversations with seniors eager to discuss upcoming competitions.

Contemplating whether to wait for you, Tojuro ultimately dismissed the idea. After all, you had never confirmed that you would make chocolates for him, and showing that he expected them would be impolite. He finally decided to go back home and bid everyone farewell. Your gaze followed him as he left but you didn't stop him.

Upon reaching his home, Tojuro slumped on his bed. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't disappointed with the day's conclusion, but he refrained from overthinking about the events. The absence of chocolates didn’t necessarily indicate you disliked him; perhaps you had your reasons. Without clear signals from you, though, he knew he would need all his courage to express his feelings directly one day. He held onto the hope that, in case of rejection, you would still be willing to remain his friend.

Somewhat apprehensive, he decided to divert his thoughts by indulging in silly social media videos. After an hour of adorable cat memes, a message that suddenly appeared on his screen made him sit up abruptly.

"Meet me at the usual park."

The text was from you. As if summoned, Tojuro hurriedly put on his jacket and dashed out of the house. Seated on a swing a few streets away, you noticed him sprinting towards you with a surprised look. Only a few minutes had passed since you sent the notification.

"Wow, you're quick! You didn't even take a moment to answer."

Catching his breath from the run, he inhaled deeply and straightened up, wearing a serious expression. "Yeah... I didn't want to keep you waiting, in case it was important... why did you want to see me...?"

His dedication and earnestness brought a smile to your face. You handed him a small red paper bag, adorned with a golden ribbon.

"Here, I wanted to give you this after kendo practice, but there were too many people, and I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention on us."

Beaming with anticipation, Tojuro accepted the package. Upon opening it, he discovered a heart-shaped box of treats, strongly suggesting that it contained honmei-choco. His heart skipped a beat.

"You can open it and taste them," you invited him. "I'm quite pleased with how they turned out."

Nodding excitedly, he lifted the lid and uncovered beautifully crafted homemade chocolates, adorned with small edible flames— the crest of his family and of the kendo club. Taking a bite, his eyes immediately lit up.

"UMAI!" he exclaimed loudly.

Startled, passersby turned their attention to you. You chuckled, muffling the sound within the sleeve of your jacket.

"I'm glad you like them."

"These are the best chocolates I've ever had," Tojuro assured. "Thank you for making them for me! I'll savor them dearly!"

"You received a lot, though. I saw all the packages you were carrying earlier," you remarked mischievously.

"Perhaps, but I was only waiting for yours!" he replied honestly.

Cheeks aflame, your gaze dropped to your toes out of embarrassment.

"If you liked them that much, I could make them for you again next year," you said bashfully.

Tojuro's smile illuminated the scene, competing with the setting sun. He took one of your hands in his and exclaimed, "If you're okay with it, you can make them for me for the rest of our lives, Himawari. I'll never get tired of them!"

Curious onlookers discreetly observed, drawn by the spectacle of this unusual public declaration. Your already warm cheeks turned crimson, but you couldn't help laughing at his enthusiasm. It looked more like a marriage proposal than a suggestion to go out together. Not that you minded too much, though. Taking his other hand, you leaned closer to him and lightly pecked his cheek, amused by his lovestruck expression when you stepped back.

"Hehe! That’s a deal, then, Tojuro. I challenge you to accept them for that long!"

The End

Modern Era Secret: In their first White Day together, Tojuro presented Himawari with homemade white chocolates and the memoirs of Kyojuro Rengoku, the brother of his ancestor almost ten generations ago. The chocolates were a bit busted, however Himawari loved the writings of the famous swordsman and co-founder of the Flame dojo. She was surprised to find that his wife shared the same name as hers but didn't dwell on it, attributing it to an amusing coincidence.

Thank you for reading to the end! If you liked this fic, consider liking it, commenting, reblogging it and/or subscribing to my page! It always set the flame in my heart ablaze ❤️‍🔥